The Messenger

53

The screaming stopped.

Amanda glanced around the back porch. She saw a clay flowerpot, filled with dirt, all plant life long gone. She grabbed it and ordered the dogs back, then launched it through the door’s glass pane.

She hid to one side of the small porch, expecting that the noise of the glass breaking would bring someone up to investigate. She heard a voice, indistinct but with a strident quality, as if issuing commands. She strained to hear what was said but could not make out the words.

She continued to wait and listen hard for long moments, but heard no sounds other than her own pounding heartbeat and the soft panting of the dogs, just behind her. She took a steadying breath and reached inside the door and unlatched it, then opened it cautiously.

She stood aside, again uncertain. The dogs came up beside her and leaped over the broken glass and into the kitchen. They looked back at her, waiting. Once she entered, they quickly moved to a closed door and scratched at it. She opened it, and was immediately taken aback by a strong odor of mustard and an underlying scent of decay. The dogs seemed unaware of this-no sooner was the door open than they ran down the stairs.

She heard Tyler’s voice shouting hoarsely, “No! Shade, Wraith, no!”

This was followed by the sound of a blow and a groan.

She hurried down the stairs after the dogs.

First she saw the dogs growling at a man who cowered in a shadowed corner. Her mind went back to her own experience of being attacked, then to what she had witnessed not long ago on the staircase of her home. Although they bared their teeth at the man, she sensed that they hesitated to attack. “Come to me,” she said to the dogs, not quite steadily.

They quickly retreated to her side, although almost immediately Shade began to whine, focused toward her right. She turned to see what held his interest and received a shock that made her sway on her feet.

Tyler lay on a table, his face and body covered with blood, some of it drying. She could see a red slash on his throat. His hands were wrapped in rough bandages, his face etched with pain. She hurried to his side, the dogs with her. “Tyler-”

“Amanda, I’m so very sorry,” he said, in little more than a whisper. He made a motion as if to reach across his body with his right hand, but the chains brought him up short. She gently took the hand in hers, flinching at the touch of cold iron. “Loosen that bandage a little, will you, love? I can hardly feel your touch.”

She read the message in his eyes and carefully extracted the key. His hand felt warm-too warm-he was feverish. He pulled her closer to him.

“Hears everything. It’s not safe…to talk now,” he said in a whisper, and she did not miss the slight pause. Not safe to use the key, then. She slipped it into her pocket, and she saw that he was pleased that she had understood him. He reached up again, and she bent nearer. He brushed the backs of his fingers against the thick sweater she wore, near her collarbone, moving exactly to the necklace of rings before he let his hand drop.

“Shade should not have shown you…”

“Where to find you?” a voice said from behind her. “You’re wrong about that. Delirious, no doubt.”

She turned around. On the far side of the room, a hooded and cloaked figure, looking something like a black-robed monk-no, she thought, like Death-stood behind a large desk.

“Please allow me to introduce myself,” the man said. “Adrian, Lord Varre. Daniel, come here. Give me your arm.”

Daniel moved to his side and supported him as he walked toward the table. He had difficulty moving, and she heard him muttering as they crossed the room.

Is Adrian injured? Amanda wondered.

As they drew nearer the table, Shade jumped up on it, standing protectively over Tyler. Daniel came to a halt.

“Forward, you fool. The dog has been told not to harm you or you’d be dead already.”

Shade curled his lip but didn’t snap. He settled alongside Tyler, and for a moment she wondered if his weight would cause Tyler discomfort, but it seemed to Amanda that as soon as Shade was beside him, Tyler’s face grew less pale and drawn.

Unnerved by Adrian’s approach, she released Tyler’s hand to move around the table, positioning herself so that the table stood between her and the cloaked figure. Wraith followed her.

“It’s no use!” Adrian said testily to Daniel as they neared. “I can’t move or breathe.” He turned to Amanda. “I apologize, Miss Clarke. I had hoped to spare you my…temporary hideous appearance by wearing these robes. You will doubtless find the way I look now rather horrifying, but I am told you are one who can see beyond the mere physical.”

“I’m here for one reason-to get you to release Tyler. Do that and I’ll look at anything.”

“Oh, eventually, I’m sure he’ll find a way out of here.” He tore impatiently at the robe, which fell in a heap at his feet. When she saw the glistening, skinless face, the insectlike body and arms and legs, she could not suppress a small sound of revulsion, or prevent herself from leaning back.

“I know. I know,” he said consolingly. “I’m sorry you did not have the opportunity to see me in my original state. I was quite handsome.” He gave a little creaking bow. “I am working my way back to a…more presentable form.”

She couldn’t bear to keep looking at him. She turned her gaze back to Tyler.

“Daniel,” Adrian said, “lower the lights. Yes, that’s it. Miss Clarke needs a bit of time to grow accustomed to me.”

“Don’t be worried about that,” she said, not liking to think much about what might now be hidden in the shadows. “I won’t be here that long. Just release Tyler and I’ll go.” She saw Shade softly exhaling on Tyler’s wounds. Relieving pain, she hoped.

“I know quite a bit about you, you know,” Adrian said. “Even rather intimate information, Miss Clarke. It is still Miss Clarke, isn’t it?”

Amanda ignored him. She turned to the cowering man, who had retreated to a far corner. “Are you the one who shot Tyler?”

“No,” he said, eyeing her fearfully, then confessed, “I brought him here.”

“Brought him here! So he could be tortured!”

“Amanda, it’s all right,” Tyler said. “Don’t blame Daniel for following Adrian’s orders. You heard his screams a moment ago.”

“Oh…I thought that was you.”

“I’ve had plenty of screams out of your lover,” Adrian said. “There’s no need for that to continue, though.”

“I agree. Release him.”

“Perhaps I will, but you really aren’t in control of what takes place here, you know. If you want Tyler to be freed-well, that depends on you, of course. I asked you if you were still Miss Clarke because it’s clear that even though Tyler has taken your virginity-”

“You have no right-,” Tyler began angrily, but Adrian merely reached over and slit his throat with a claw.