Testimony of Children (Alice Gray Book 2)

56

"Mary, darling. Look what I found. Another pet for you to play with. A kitty this time."

The voice came from just outside the door. I was too late.

I knew who was coming though. I'd heard that high-pitched, overtly feminine tone before. It was the Baroness, Thomas Knyvet's wife. The vampire bitch who tortured James and Thomas after her husband had turned them.

Where the hell did she fit into all this?

Backing away, I tried to put as much distance as possible between me and the two threats: Mary, sat in the far corner with her hideous creation of fur, skin and blood, and the Baroness, who was about to enter the room from the only doorway.

There wasn't anywhere to hide, so I pressed my back to the wall next to the door. Maybe I could slip past and out before she noticed me. Mary was oblivious, her grotesque 'dolly' taking up all her attention.

The Baroness glided into the room with dainty steps. Pausing in the doorway, her head tilted on her long, graceful neck as she surveyed the room. So far, she hadn't turned far enough to notice me, but it wasn't going to do any good. She was blocking the only means of escape.

Trapped, panic threatened to overwhelm me. Sweat beaded on my brow and nausea bubbled in the pit of my stomach. I had to get a hold of myself. I wasn't the only one in danger. The Baroness was hauling a huge unconscious black panther by the scruff of its neck.

The Baroness flung Becca across the room as though she was as light as a feather. Mary squealed and pushed what remained of Dominic off her lap without another thought. A sickening splatter sounded as his parts landed in a heap on the ground. The metallic tang of old blood circulated in the air.

"What do you say, Mary?"

"Thank you mummy."

Mary reached up on her tip-toes and placed a kiss on the cheek offered by the Baroness.

A shiver rippled over my skin. This was so creepy that my mind found it difficult to process the twisted drama playing out in front of me.

With some difficulty, Mary dragged Becca over to one of the altars. The sight should have been comical, a seventy-year-old woman manhandling a huge panther. She held Becca under her front legs, her huge feline head lolling to the side, long pink tongue protruding out of her slack jaw.

It wasn't funny because I knew what was in store for the panther shifter if I didn't get us out of here.

Suddenly the Baroness's head shifted a fraction more to the side and she caught me in her crimson glare. Everything stopped; breath, heartbeat, it was as if my entire being froze as her face tilted even further. A bird of prey zeroing in on a helpless field mouse.

"Alice, dear. You're up. We thought you would rest for longer. How are you feeling?" The concern in her sweet, high voice rankled the churning lump of fear in my gut. You'd think I was a guest in her home, rather than a prisoner in this house of horrors.

"All recovered. I think I'll be heading on my way." I started to move towards her, intending to slip past before their sick game of happy families played out to its obvious conclusion.

Eyes focussed straight ahead, I prayed that they'd keep it up for just a few minutes longer. If I could just get some help before Mary started 'playing' with Becca, I could save us both.

"Mummy, she broke my dolly," a high-pitched whine piped up, just as I moved past the Baroness. A hand shot out and grasped my arm in a vicelike grip.

"What was that Mary, dear?"

"Alice broke my dolly, she needs to be punished."

Mary left Becca lying on the stone altar, and scurried over to where the Baroness and I stood by the door, eager to tell her tales.

"Is that true?" the Baroness said, playing the part of stern mother to her two unruly children.

"I didn't do anything," I said, falling into character despite myself.

"Liar," the Baroness yelled, her sweet voice transforming into something loud, shrill and terrifying. "Set the circle, Mary dear, it's nearly time."

Mary jumped up and down and clapped her hands in delight. She skipped round the room dropping her small black poppets at regular intervals. I knew what that meant: a circle. If I didn't do something I'd be trapped with no way to help Becca or myself.

My silver life-force felt cold and sterile without the connection of the pack bond or Stephen's magic, but I had to get past that. If I believed that Lucas had been cut up and put back together by Mary I would lose it completely.

I focussed inwards, trying to wake the magic.

First the buzzing started deep within. It travelled outward with my blood, until tiny pin pricks of silver welled in the pores of my skin and I heard the faint chimes of metal against metal.

The Baroness cocked her head to the side, and then turned, moving with such speed that it made me shudder in terror. Crimson eyes bored into me.

"Ah, ah, ah. It's not quite time for that yet."

She moved to my back, pinning my arms to my sides. I felt something crack inside. Searing pain shot through my chest. My breath wouldn't come. An ominous gurgle from deep within told me that something was very wrong.

I didn't give up. I couldn't. The chimes became discordant and frenzied, climbing towards a crescendo that I knew would release the power to bring the lunatics to heel. But time was running out.

As the climax approached, Mary reached the starting point of her wide circle of poppets. The magic leeched away from me and into the circle, strengthening it.

"There, there, Alice dear. The solstice moon isn't quite at its zenith. The circle will hold all that lovely silver for you, ready for the transfer."

Tears ran down my face and my body sagged against the Baroness's steel frame. A combination of the pain from the cracked rib that had probably punctured my lung, and despair that I had failed, crippled me. Limp, all hope having fled, I couldn't even resist when Baroness laid me back onto the altar.

"Mary, be a dear and let me use your pussycat for the sacrifice."

"Yes mummy," Mary's voice came out sulky, but the excited sparkle in her eyes told me that she longed for the spectacle.

I found it increasingly difficult to care.

The seconds passed as the circle pulsed with the silver power that it had taken from me so easily.

Looking up, I saw the glint of a silver dagger raised in the Baroness's hand.

Closing my eyes, one face was imprinted in my mind as I prepared to meet my death.

The knowledge that I was never going to see Thomas again was the final nail in the coffin.

Oh Alice, her thoughts are with Thomas at the final moment...