ELDRA CEASED HER writhing on the bed as the pain mercifully released its hold over her body. She fell limply against the mattress, her eyes slowly slipping closed.
She lay so still that Mary drew in a sharp breath, fearing that her newfound friend had passed from this world into the next.
Maeve rushed from her bed to Eldra's side and bent close, watching for the faint rise and fall of her breast, and relief washed over her when she heard Eldra breathing steadily in the quiet room.
Maeve reached out and clasped Mary's trembling hand.
Mary searched her eyes desperately for any hope that Eldra still lived.
"She's sleeping," Maeve whispered. "The priest must have broken his blessing."
Mary released a shaky breath, her eyes never leaving Eldra.
"Thanks be to God!" Mary exclaimed, raising her hands toward the heavens.
As Mathew burst into the room they both jumped, the giant hurried into the room, his broad chest heaving as though he had run all the way there.
"How is she?" he asked anxiously.
"Better," Lady Mary assured him.
Mathew crossed the room to where Eldra lay.
For a moment, he simply stood there, watching her still form. "She is sleeping," Maeve whispered. "The pain has passed." Mathew nodded, though the worry did not leave his face. "Will she wake?"
Maeve hesitated before answering.
"I believe so," she said quietly, hoping that she spoke the truth.
Mathew reached down and gently took Eldra's hand in his great calloused one. Her fingers were cold against his palm.
"Come on, lass," he murmured. "You have frightened us enough." Mary watched him closely, her own fear returning at the uncertainty in Maeve's voice.
* * *
When Father Thomas returned from his mission, Eldra sat propped up on the bed her friends surrounding her. Though she looked wrung out from her ordeal, a bright smile lit her face when the priest entered the room after a quick knock on the door.
"Thank you father," she said weakly. "Tell me how fares my love?"
Father Thomas glanced around at the others who crowded the small space, seeing Mathew amongst them, he cleared his throat.
"Perhaps we should speak in private," Father Thomas suggested, looking toward the weakened woman upon the bed.
"Of course, Father," Eldra replied, a look of concern showing in her eyes.
She turned toward Lady Mary. "Would you and the others mind giving us some privacy?"
Lady Mary nodded, rising from the edge of the bed, and she motioned for the others to follow her toward the door.
Mathew passed close by the priest, his broad shoulder nearly brushing against him.
As he did, he fixed Father Thomas with a warning look that left no doubt as to what he thought of the man.
Father Thomas held his gaze for a moment before Mathew finally moved on.
Lady Mary paused at the doorway and glanced back into the room, concern lingered in her eyes as she looked from Eldra to the priest.
"Call if you need us," she said quietly. Eldra gave her a faint nod.
Lady Mary hesitated another moment before pulling the door shut behind her, leaving Eldra and Father Thomas alone.
The priest took Mary's vacated seat by the bed, his face grave. Eldra held the priest's gaze.
"Tell me. No matter how bad it may be. The not knowing only makes it worse." Eldra pleaded with him.
Father Thomas lifted Eldra's hand with his own, bestowing a chaste kiss to it before lowering it beside her on the bed.
"He is badly wounded. The chains have cut into his skin in places and in others they have burned down to the muscles that lay beneath. But as with yours, his suffering has eased. Tell me child how did he become as he is? Or Has he always been the killer that Mowbray believes him to be?" The priest asked gently, thinking perhaps that Eldra would tell him Vincent's tale since they had not the time while he visited him.
"No father he once was mortal flesh until in his youthful folly he allowed his friends to challenge him to enter a place where he should not have entered. There a vampire attacked him and he became something else. Something that he no longer is. He has learned over the centuries how to control the beast that he once was," she replied.
"Tell me father what did you see when you looked into his eyes? A beast or a frightened man?"
Father Thomas watched her face, casting back his memory to what he witnessed from the man held within the cage.
He could understand the monster that had once overwhelmed the man. Did he himself not possess a devil that took control of him, demanding to be fed?
Though his demons craved pleasures of the flesh, not blood.
Eldra could see the priest struggling with his own inner demons as he considered his answer.
She moved a finger cautiously closer his hand where it still lay beside her upon the bed.
As their hands touched Eldra could see what the priest did to the boys entrusted to his care and she jerked her hand away so quickly that the priest jumped up from where he sat, rubbing the hand she had touched absently with the other.
"I think you can understand Vincent in some small way," she whispered, before raising her eyes to meet his.
Father Thomas turned away, the shame he felt at what he had done to the boys suddenly overwhelmed him.
"Yes, I can understand him," he said flatly.
He turned back to face Eldra a look of deep shame evident on his face. Returning to her bedside, though not to his place beside her on the chair, Father Thomas leaned in closely, kissing her on the top of her head.
"There were things Vincent wanted me to tell you." Father Thomas paused, gathering himself before continuing. "He asked me to tell you not to try to come for him, and for you to leave this place and never return."
The priest drew in a long, shaky breath, his brown eyes lowering to the floor.
"And he wanted you to know that he loves you deeply." Eldra stared at him, her heart aching at the words.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Father Thomas turned toward the door, making to leave, but before he could take another step, Eldra reached out and gently grasped his hand.
"Thank you, Father," she said quietly.
When she released him, her hand fall back onto the woolen blanket. The priest gave her a solemn nod before opening the door.
He stepped out onto the landing and began his descent down the narrow staircase.
Moments later Father Thomas emerged from the tavern into the twilight kissed streets.
* * *
Vincent drained the last of the rat's blood from its malnourished body, tossing its corpse deep into the darkness beyond where the torch lights reach, he could feel its life force coursing through his veins.
Already, the wounds inflicted by the chains were slowly closing, his flesh knitting itself back together.
The rats offered little blood, but they at least they were plentiful in the feted cellar.
And for now, they would have to be enough. Vincent listened to the darkness around him.
He could hear the faint skittering of claws against stone. More were coming.
His eyes opened, glowing faintly crimson in the darkness as the beast stirred.
Vincent turned his attention to the noises coming from the house above him. All seemed quiet except for the movements of the old woman, whom he believed to be somewhere in the kitchen.
He could smell food being prepared, the aroma cutting through the fetid stench of the cellar as it crept beneath the door.
He could hear the clattering of the cast iron pots and pans as they were placed upon the hearth.
Despite himself, Vincent smiled as the old woman hummed softly while she worked.
Vincent lowered his gaze to the chains binding him and tested their strength once more pulling against the iron with all the force he dared.
The links groaned beneath the strain, but held firm.
He ran his fingers along them, searching for even the smallest flaw in their construction.
"Damn Mathew and his flawless craftsmanship," he muttered bitterly.
His words were answered only by the faint skittering of rats somewhere in the darkness.
Vincent sighed.
"Very helpful, the lot of you." He snorted.
The silence of the house was suddenly broken by the sound of the front door being violently pushed open.
Vincent heard the familiar voices of Johnas and Mowbray echo through the house. Their heavy footsteps stomped across the entryway floor directly above his head.
"Bertha!" Johnas bellowed. "Where is my supper?" The old woman hurried to obey him.
Vincent could hear her muttering curses beneath her breath as pots and dishes clattered in the kitchen, and he smiles slightly.
Johnas and Mowbray continued toward the stairs, their footsteps growing fainter as they ascended toward their bedchambers.
Vincent waited in silence.
He could hear the key being turned in the lock of the cellar door, followed by the creak of its hinges.
The glow from the kitchen above lit the upper steps of the stairs illuminating them faintly.
Bertha appeared at the top of the steps.
She looked down into the torch lit cellar, her face filled with pity.
"Sir," she whispered, keeping her voice low. "The master and that bastard friend of his have returned. May God be with you."
Bertha quickly crossed herself before pulling the cellar door shut once more. The heavy lock clicking into place, and Vincent could hear her replace the heavy key on the hook beside the door, before her footsteps retreat across the kitchen floor.
Vincent sat motionless in the darkness. Mowbray had returned.
* * *
Mathew gathered with the others in the private room at the back of the tavern, Robert, Ferdy, Albert, Lady Mary, Maeve, and Eldra all sat around the table in the center of the room.
Earlier, Mathew had helped Robert move the table into place after Mowbray's men had either retired to their rooms for the night or left to spend their coin at the bawdy houses that lined the streets down by the docks.
Mathew lowered himself gingerly into the chair beside Eldra, casting a weary glance around the table.
The events of the past days weighed heavily upon them all, but none more so than Eldra.
She sat quietly, her face still pale from her ordeal, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.
"We need to decide what we are going to do," Mathew said at last. The others fell silent.
They all knew there was little time to waste.
"I think I should return to Johnas's house," Lady Mary said, speaking first. "I think I will be safe, at least for the moment, now that Mowbray has his pet locked safely in the cellar."
She gave Eldra a quick look.
"I'm sorry, my dear," she offered by way of apology. "But who better to keep watch over Vincent while he is their prisoner?"
Eldra remained silent, though the thought of Vincent alone in that cellar made her heart ache.
"And I am sure Bertha will assist me," Mary continued. "Old she may be, but she is as sharp as a tack, and fearless to boot."
A faint smile touched her lips.
"She was the one who slipped me the knife before Archer dragged me from Johnas's house. I was attempting to use it to cut my bonds before your good man rescued me."
Mathew glanced at Mary in surprise.
"Bertha gave you a knife?" Mary nodded.
"She did. I suspect the old house keeper has far more courage than most of the men in Mowbray's employ," she said with a sour look. Mathew grunted in agreement.
"That she does."
Eldra looked up a worried expression on her face.
"If you return there, you won't be putting yourself in danger."She exclaimed.
Mary reached across the table and gently took her hand. "So might Vincent if you try to rescue him tonight." Eldra lowered her eyes.
Mary squeezed her hand and said. "Let me do what I can, my dear. If Vincent is to remain in that cellar for the moment, I would rather have someone watching over him whom you know you can trust."
Maeve shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
"What shall the rest of us do while her ladyship is putting herself in peril?"
All eyes turned toward her, and then to Eldra.
"We need spies everywhere," Eldra said. "Open ears and open eyes who can blend into the background, watching and learning all they can about Mowbray and Johnas's plans. Not only for Vincent's sake, but for my own as well."
She paused, her gaze falling to the table.
"Mowbray may have his PET caged, as Mary put it."
Eldra's voice faltered. Fear bloomed in her chest at the thought of not knowing what Mowbray had planned for Vincent.
She drew in a slow breath before continuing.
"But Johnas will not stop until he has me in a cage beside him." Robert spoke up for the first time since the meeting had begun. "Maeve can come back to work for me here at the tavern. That is, if you're willing?" he asked her.
A smile immediately lit up Maeve's face at the suggestion.
"I believe I could manage that," she replied.
Robert leaned back in his chair, looking pleased with the idea.
"Maeve was always very popular with my patrons, and a good listener too, according to some," he said with a wink across the table. "I think she would be just the thing to help loosen Mowbray's men's tongues."
Maeve laughed softly.
"I suppose there are worse ways to earn my keep." "And safer ones," Robert added, with a knowing look.
Maeve raised an eyebrow. A look of suspicion crossed her face. Had Robert known about her working at the bawdy house all along? "Safer?" she asked.
Robert shrugged.
"Perhaps not. But at least here, you'll have Mathew nearby to scare off anyone who gets too friendly."
A few of them laughed, easing the tension that had settled over the room. But Eldra did not smile.
She knew that beneath Robert's jest lay a serious truth. Maeve would be putting herself among Mowbray's men, listening to their drunken boasts and careless words.
If they were to learn what Mowbray and Johnas were planning, someone would have to get close enough to hear it, and it pained her to think that Maeve was willing to do exactly that.
Putting herself in harms way.
"What do yer want Albert and me to do?" Ferdy asked.
Mathew leaned back in his chair, considering the two men before answering.
"What you do best," he said. "Drink and listen."
Ferdy bristled for a moment at the remark, but Mathew continued before he could take offense.
"And should Johnas summon ye to his house, report what ye have seen there. Anything that seems out of place. Anyone coming or going. Whatever ye hear."
Ferdy's irritation faded as he realized Mathew was speaking seriously. He nodded his head in agreement.
"Aye. We can do that."
Mathew turned his attention to Albert.
"And you keep your ears open as well. Between the two of ye, we might learn more than Mowbray would like us to know."
Albert nodded quietly.
For the first time that evening, the group began to see how they might be able to turn the tables on their enemies.
* * *
Vincent could hear the men laughing and talking as they ate, above him, dishes clattered as each course was served by Bertha, the housekeeper.
Their voices carried through the floorboards, punctuated by bursts of drunken laughter and the scrape of utensils against metal chargers.
When they had eaten their fill, Johnas and Mowbray adjourned to Johnas's study.
Vincent listened intently.
A moment later, he heard the unmistakable rattle of decanters and the soft clink of glasses being filled.
It appeared they had decided to drink late into the night rather than come down to the cellar and torment him.
For the moment, Vincent was grateful for the reprieve.
He settled back against the cold metal bars of the cage, listening to their muffled voices above.
Perhaps, if they drank enough, they might become careless, and Vincent had learned long ago that drunken men were prone to making mistakes.
Like the mistake he had made, all those long centuries ago, when he had allowed his friends to goad him into entering the crumbling estate.
Vincent let his mind wander back in time to that night.
The look upon Aurelius face when he had pulled Vincent's mouth from the wound on his wrist, his children offering their blood to him as he lay weakened on the floor.
The sound of his feeding from them as Vincent lay frozen on the floor, his vision changing, as the room around him distorted.
The unbearable pain as his guts twisting from the change that was taking hold within him.
He could hear the scuttling of the rats in the walls, as his bowels purging the last remnants of his mortal existence onto the floor around him.
Then the feeling of power that coursed through his body from Au-relius' blood surging through him as he rose from the floor, stripping his body of the soiled clothing, standing naked before his Maker.
Reborn, yet still inhabiting the same body he had possessed during his mortal life.
He looked down on Aurelius, bent down and pulled him to his feet, and then embraced him.
His Maker took him by the hand and led him out into the darkness where his companions waited for his to return.
"Feed!" he commanded.
Vincent stared at the waiting figures, and for the first time, he understood what it was to be the hunter and not the prey.
But now Aurelius and his clan were long dead, turned to dust and still he remains, he thought.
And now once more he has become the prey.