Reign of Evil

CHAPTER 2

Member of Parliament Gordon Miller felt like his head had been stoved in and his brains replaced with porridge. He and that sweet little waitress from Lions Head had drunk enough G&Ts to fill a water tank last night. Now, waking up to the frigid morning and an even more frigid realization that he’d failed to respond to not one but twenty-seven texts from his dear wife, especially the last one, which said: You might as well go fuck yourself because you’re never going to fuck me again, made his morning complete.

Sigh.

She’d said the same thing twice before and it had proven expensive to get back in her good graces. Real fucking expensive. He’d have to test his mettle and see if her golden triangle was worth it this time.

The bathroom door opened and Veronica stepped out naked, her raven hair still dripping. She held a towel to it as she regarded him, already in his suit, chewing breath mints and guzzling water.

“You gonna run out on me, governor?”

He shook his head. She had the dark skin of a Gypsy and the night moves of an alley cat. He wanted nothing more than to have another go at it, except for the fact he was fresh out of little blue pills. What’s a fifty-five-year-old overweight MP to do? Plus, he needed to get home and not with the smell of strange on him.

“Sorry, luv. Mother called and wants me home.”

She gave him a smile much like the one she’d offered him in the pub. It promised absolutely everything. “We going to do this again soon?”

Gordon couldn’t help but smile. “I hope so. Just need to figure it out.”

“Don’t leave me hanging, governor. A girl loves to be treated like a woman by a rich man. Especially a rich man who’s on television as much as you.”

So she knew. So much for his pretense of being a simple businessman. And the damn girl was smiling again. “I’ll take care of you.”

“I’m sure you will.”

She turned and went back into the bathroom. He couldn’t help but watch. Even if his body wouldn’t cooperate, his mind was creative enough to fill in the blanks.

His cell phone buzzed. He checked it. Wifey.

Your shit is on the back porch.

His fingers hovered over the phone as he prepared to answer her. But then it buzzed again. His secretary had sent the schedule for the morning, including an updated time for his conference with the Muslim League about increased funding for their defense account. What another pain in the ass. Not that he didn’t mind their considerable support to his campaigns, but they insisted on taking an incredible amount of his time. Still, if he wanted to remain in office this was something that had his full support, which also meant he couldn’t afford to miss the appointment.

He texted his secretary to confirm. He also asked that she text his wife and tell her that he’d worked late and stayed at the office. Roxy was a good secretary and would do it with no questions asked. Of course, she’d expect a significant holiday bonus.

Damn but this was proving to be one of his more expensive days. It was barely dawn and he already owed three women. He couldn’t help but chuckle. Of course he could have it the other way. No job. No women. No sex.

He took one more gulp of water, then stood. He straightened his tie in the mirror by the door, then grabbed the keys from his overcoat pocket. He left the room and entered the cold Bromley morning. The wind whipped the fog in the parking lot, making it move as if great objects were passing through. A ship’s horn broke the early morning. So did the barking of a dog.

He had to search for his Mercedes. He’d been in such a rush to get into Veronica’s knickers he hadn’t paid much attention to anything else. He chuckled. Yet another reason he was proud to not be American. Them and their damned paparazzi. If he’d been in the American Congress he’d never have a chance at these dalliances. The first time he’d try he’d be on Facebook and Twitter and Twatter.

There. He spotted his car three rows up.

Dogs began to bark incessantly. As if in answer, a baying came from deep within the fog. The dogs barked madly. He turned in a full circle. What was going on with the dogs? One thing he hated was strays. Not a time to be bit if he could help it.

The baying came again, this time followed by a horn. It didn’t sound like a ship’s, though. Was there a foxhunt nearby? Why would someone do it in this weather? Never mind that the hunts had been made illegal.

He became aware of figures moving within the fog. He only caught fragmented glimpses of them, but they seemed to be carrying weapons. The fog billowed and covered the cars.

The baying came closer, now with the sound of claws scraping against the pavement as the hidden creatures bore down on him. He had a moment to think, then turned and ran right into the side of a car. The impact drove the air from him. He fell but clawed his way to his feet.

Someone yelled behind him, then sounded a horn.

The baying was now all around him.

He held his hands up in front of him.

“Okay. Okay. Enough of this.” An animal brushed his leg. “Do you know who I am?”

The fog parted for a moment and he beheld a man dressed all in green, like a hunter. He wore holly-patterned clothes and an iron crown on his head. But what drew the MP’s eyes was the great rack of horns on the white stag the man rode. Even as the MP stared, the man brought a hunting horn to his lips and blew. The stag’s eyes blazed red, then the beast lowered his antlers and charged.

The MP screamed and turned. He managed four steps before the tips of the antlers pierced his back. The pain caused him to stagger, but he was unable even to fall. The stag lifted him and picked up speed. Soon they were careening through the fog, baying beasts running all around them. He wanted to scream for them to stop. He wanted to beg them to let him go. But amidst the clatter of hooves and the blowing of the rider’s horn, he felt his spirit ripped from his body. By the time the stag shook his great head and dislodged Miller’s body many miles later, he could barely remember who or what he’d been. All he knew was that there was a hunt, he was part of it, and it gave him so much joy that he bayed.