ELDRA SLEPT BADLY and rose before Vincent had awoken from his fitful nights sleep, her stomach rumbling with hunger. She could not recall the last time she had eaten a proper meal, and she hoped that either Father Thomas or Mathew would provide her with some food soon.
She did not know how much longer she could go on in her present state. Every time she used her powers, they drained her further.
She felt Vincent stir beside her, and he reached out his hand taking hers, lifting it gently to his lips.
"I had thought that perhaps I had dreamt of you coming to my rescue," he said weakly.
Eldra pulled herself up onto one elbow, looking down at him lovingly. She ran a finger gently over the mostly healed cut on his cheek. "You're going to have a scar here, my dark love," she said. "I saw it upon your face when we were in the stone circle, as the priest cut away your flesh from the chains."
She smiled at the memory, thinking that it only added to his rugged, and dangerous beauty.
He groaned as he tried to sit up, then winced in pain.
Eldra could see the ravages Mowbray had left upon his body, though the terrible wounds were healing slowly.
"You need to feed my love. How long has it been since last you fed?" she asked.
He turned to look at her, still not believing that she was here, that it had all not been some fevered dream.
That he still remained a prisoner locked up like some animal within the cage.
"There were many rats to feed on at first, but they quickly learned to avoid coming too close. If not for them, I would have died from my wounds already."
"I'm sorry it took me so long to come for you," she whispered, "but with Mowbray's men all around us at the tavern..." Her voice trailed off.
He drew her close despite the pain it caused him, and she rested her head carefully against his chest.
"You should have fled, my little raven, but I am glad now that you did not," he said, a broad smile lighting his face as he pulled her closer, closing his eyes, and savoring the warmth of her within his arms.
Mathew cleared his throat loudly as he entered the crypt, a large hamper filled with food held in one massive hand.
"I didna mean to interrupt your... whatever this is," he said, smiling sheepishly.
"Mathew!" Eldra exclaimed, jumping to her feet and hurrying over to give him a welcoming hug.
He held out the hamper toward Eldra, and she snatched it greedily from his hands.
"Kara, though she hasn't forgiven me for getting mixed up in this business, thought ye might be in need of sustenance. Leave it to my soft hearted Kara to think of others, though she be peeved at me," he said.
Eldra opened the hamper, happily rummaging through its contents, before seizing a pork pasty, and eating it with relish.
"Hmmm. Delicious. Please thank Kara for me, and thank you for bringing the hamper, Mathew." Eldra said in between bites. Mathew let out a hearty laugh as he watched Eldra eat.
"Has there been any word on Mowbray's movements?" she asked him between bites.
His face clouded, and he hesitated to relay any disturbing news since it seemed she was enjoying her food.
"Ferdy tells me that when Mowbray returned to Johnas' house with his garrison, Lady Mary was nowhere to be found. We have had no word from her since we left her alone with Bertha's body."
A frown deepening the furrows between his brows.
"It is as if she has vanished into thin air."
Eldra ceased eating, placing the half uneaten pasty back into the hamper, and wiping the crumbs from her mouth with the back of her hand.
"Mary's gone?" she said. a concerned look on her face, as she pondered her friends fate.
"Did not Johnas hear anything?" she inquired.
"If he did, he is not talking. As a matter of fact, from what little information our group at the tavern has been able to glean, it appears he is making ready to flee the country," Mathew informed them. "It seems he has had his fill of Mowbray and his villainous ways. And now, with Bertha's death hanging over his head, he has had enough."
Eldra paced the stone floor. No.
She would not let Johnas run away.
He must be punished for the part he had played in bringing Mowbray to their door, and he must pay for what he had done to Maeve, and what he had tried to do to her.
Tonight.
Tonight they would all pay for what they had done, she vowed.
"Thank you, Mathew, for the information and the food. Now go home and spend some much needed time with your family," she said brightly.
Mathew stared at Eldra for a moment.
He could sense a plan forming in her mind, but what it might be, he did not know.
Once Mathew had left them alone once more, Eldra turned to Vincent, she searched his haggard face for a moment, then lowered her eyes to study the open wounds covering his body, and as she paced the crypt, she began to formulate a plan to exact her revenge upon Johnas and Mowbray.
But she would need Vincent's help, and she was not certain he would agree to her terms.
She moved to him, sitting down on the rushes at his side, drawing in a deep breath before revealing her plan to him.
His eyes grew dark and he turned away from her lest he weaken at her request.
She withdrew his Spatha from where she had hidden it, draw it across her wrist.
Vincent's eyes burned deep crimson as the scent of her blood began flowing freely onto the stone floor of the crypt, flooded his senses.
Overcome with hunger, he pulled her wrist to his mouth and began to feed.
Eldra was overcome by a strange feeling of exhilaration as he fed upon her, her body seeming to float as he drained her.
But then she remembered his story of how he had nearly drained Aurelius dry. She needed to hold him in check.
She began to weakly push against his head, but he would not lift his mouth from her wound.
In desperation, she felt for the spatha and brought its hilt down against his head, finally forcing him to release her.
She saw the panic in his eyes as her consciousness began to slip away, and she seemed to float into nothingness.
Then warmth began to return to her body as his blood flowed into her mouth, drinking deeply from him.
After a short time he gently lifted her mouth from the wound upon his wrist, where he had bitten deeply into his own flesh to feed her.
Her eyes flashed crimson for but a moment before returning to emerald green once more.
She could feel his blood coursing through her as she rose from the floor and turned to look at him.
She gasped.
The wounds covering his body had completely healed, leaving only a few puckered scars where the chains had bitten deepest into his flesh.
Vincent rose and took her into his arms, feeling the thrum of her magic as Eldra's blood filled him with a sensation he had never experienced before, not even when they had mingled their blood within the glowing cavern deep within the mountain.
He felt as though his very soul had become intertwined with hers, and the power of that bond left him almost breathless.
As the parish bells began to ring high above them in the tower of the church marking All Hollows Eve, and the call to prayer for the villagers they coupled. Not as mortal and vampire this time, but as something else, as two immortal souls bound to each other for eternity.
* * *
Mowbray gathered his men on the village green as the church bells began toll loudly, much to his vexation.
The villagers were busily stacking great pyres of wood in the recently harvested fields, preparing for the bonfires that would burn throughout the night to ward off the evil spirits believed to roam freely on All Hallows' Eve, when the veil between this world and the next was thought to be at its thinnest.
Some had already prepared soul cakes for the poorest among them, who would go from door to door begging for food in exchange for offering up prayers for their dead relatives.
After vespers, a candlelit procession would wind its way through the village streets to the graveyard, where the faithful would lay wreaths of flowers upon the graves of their dead.
All around the village, preparations continued beneath the gathering darkness, unaware that something far more sinister than wandering spirits was moving among them.
His men had found no evidence of the vampire and his whore as they searched from house to house, nor had they discovered any sign of them within the barns or root cellars of the villagers' homes.
Mowbray's garrison was now making preparations to search the forest surrounding the village once more.
The men stood straight backed and silent, awaiting his command, their weapons glinting in the pale light of the setting sun as dusk began to gather around them.
Mowbray surveyed them with growing impatience.
"Spread out," he ordered. "Search every trail, every hollow, and every damned cave. They cannot have simply vanished!" He raged.
His men nodded as they began to move, eager to be away from their lord's increasingly dangerous temper.
Mowbray marched off in the direction of Johnas' townhouse.
They had much to discuss before the coward made good his escape.
For one thing, Mowbray wanted to know exactly what Johnas had heard on the night that Lady Mary had disappeared.
And if the man proved reluctant to tell him, Mowbray was prepared to use any means necessary to wring the truth from him, even if it meant turning Johnas' own collection of torture devices against their owner.
Though he suspected that merely threatening such a tactic would be enough to bring Johnas to heel.
After all, had he not witnessed firsthand just how far Mowbray was prepared to go after watching him torture the vampire?
Johnas was a coward despite all his bluster, and Mowbray knew that the threat of forcing him to taste his cruelty would be all that was needed to loosen Johnas' tongue.
There was already a baggage cart loaded down with Johnas' belongings when Mowbray stepped into the grand foyer of the townhouse.
The priggish man was barking orders at the carters as yet more of his possessions were loaded onto the waiting carriage.
Mowbray paused upon the threshold, his eyes sweeping over the mountain of trunks and chests.
He noticed that many of the trunks were secured with heavy pad-locks. A slow smile crept across his face.
No doubt they contained all the money Johnas had embezzled from the village taxes.
Money that had mysteriously failed to make its way into the King's coffers.
Mowbray had always suspected Johnas was lining his own pockets. Now, it appeared, he had proof.
He turned his gaze toward Johnas, who was still fussing over the carters. "Are we planning on going somewhere Johnas?" he asked, as the fat man huffed and puffed his way around the entry hall, tallying what had already been loaded on the cart and what remained to be loaded upon it.
Mowbray walked over to one of the stacked trunks, casually flicking its padlock back and forth with one finger, like a cat toying with a trapped mouse.
"And I see you are taking a little something that belongs to the King with you," he said, tapping the top of the trunk with his hand, before standing to his full height. A cruel grin spreading across his lips.
Johnas' eyes blazed with indignation at Mowbray's jibe.
"I have no idea what you mean." he snapped. "Oh, I think you do."
Mowbray gave the padlock another playful flick.
"I have always wondered where all those missing taxes found their way to."
Johnas' face reddened.
"Those are my private possessions." Johnas said, eyeing the nobleman with displeasure.
"Of course they are." Mowbray's smile widened. "Then I am sure you will have no objection to my having a look inside."
Johnas's face turned a pale and his shoulders slumped imperceptibly.
"Really, Mowbray, I have no time for your games. My ship, the Mary Rose departs at midnight, and I have much to prepare before I board her." Mowbray charged at the fat man, pinning him against the wall, trapping Johnas between it and his powerful frame.
His forearm pressed painfully against Johnas' throat.
The impact drove the breath from the coward's body, and he clawed desperately at Mowbray's arm, his vision beginning to fade at the edges.
"You are not going anywhere," Mowbray growled. Johnas struggled to draw breath.
"I...I have done nothing..."
"Do not insult me with your lies dog."
Mowbray tightened his arm just enough to make Johnas choke.
Johnas' face had begun to turn a brighter shade of red as he fought against the crushing pressure at his throat.
"You will tell me everything," Mowbray continued, his voice cold and deadly, "including where Lady Mary has gone."
He leaned closer, his eyes burning into Johnas'. "And you will do so before you board that ship."
Mowbray abruptly released his hold, and Johnas crumpled to his knees upon the floor, coughing violently as he fought to draw breath.
He clutched at his throat, his eyes watering as he gulped in great, ragged breaths.
Mowbray looked down at him with cold disdain.
"Now," he said quietly, "perhaps we can have a civilized conversation." Johnas glared up at him, still struggling to breathe.
"You bastard," he rasped. Mowbray smiled thinly.
"Careful, Johnas. You are not in a position to insult me. Now tell me everything you know about my good lady wife's disappearance." He sneered.
Johnas crawled awkwardly toward the stairs before settling upon the last tread. His eyes were momentarily drawn to the spot where Ber-tha's body had lain sprawled upon the polished wood.
"Help me up, man, and I shall tell you what transpired after the vampire's rescue party departed."
He held out his hand toward Mowbray.
After a moment's hesitation, Mowbray took it and helped Johnas to his feet.
Johnas steadied himself against the banister, one hand still clutching his throat, before glancing about the entry hall.
The two men were suddenly reminded that the men Johnas had hired to carry his trunks to the ship had been going about their business throughout their struggle.
Though they had been paid handsomely for their discretion, Johnas did not trust them not to repeat what he was about to disclose to the nobleman about his wife's whereabouts.
He leaned closer to Mowbray and lowered his voice.
"Not here," he whispered. "There are too many ears."
He led Mowbray through the dining room and into Bertha's little kitchen at the back of the house.
Standing close together in the dimly lit room, Johnas turned to his soon-tobe exhouseguest with an anxious look upon his face.
Being in such close quarters with the man who had nearly squeezed the life from him only moments before made Johnas feel as though he had willingly locked himself in a cage with a wild animal, one that might spring upon him at any moment.
His gaze drifted toward Mowbray's sword.
Though it remained safely sheathed at his side, Johnas knew all too well what the weapon was capable of in Mowbray's lethal grasp.
He swallowed nervously before forcing his eyes back to Mowbray.
"Well?" Mowbray demanded.
Johnas drew a shaky breath.
"As you know, I was bound and gagged, and I wholeheartedly admit I was in fear for my life, should the smithy return and follow through with his threat to end me."
Here he paused for dramatic effect, watching Mowbray carefully.
"Though, to my great relief, when he did return, it was not for me, but for Lady Mary. He implored her to join himself and the others in the waiting cart. The Lady refused to leave Bertha, and so remained behind."
Johnas dropped heavily into one of the chairs beside the table, placing his head in his hands.
"Not long after the conspirators departed, I heard an unfamiliar voice call out to your good lady wife. Though what was said between them I admit is but a blur. I believe the man called himself Percy or perhaps Peter, something or other. Then I could hear a whispered conversation taking place."
He lifted his head, his brow furrowed as he struggled to recall the events.
"The next thing I can remember, they were gone. Fleeing, I presume, out into the darkness, leaving only silence in their wake."
Mowbray's eyes narrowed. "Percy?" he murmured.
For a moment, he stood in silence, searching his memory. Then recognition dawned.
Percival.
The son of one of her Majesties most trusted guards.
Mowbray's expression hardened.
"Percival," he said aloud, the name leaving his lips with growing dread. If her Majesty had been informed, by a traitor amongst his ranks, about his failed attempt on Lady Mary's life then his days at court where over, and perhaps he may also meet a messy end at the hands of the royal executioners axe.
Johnas looked up at him.
"God damn it!" he growled, fury burning within his eyes. He should have killed Mary when he had the chance.
Mowbray stormed through the house and out into the crowded street, where throngs of the faithful were making their way toward the church for the All Hallows' Eve services.
He pushed his way through the gathering crowds, heedless of the muttered curses and startled looks that followed in his wake. His anger had hardened into determination.
He would find Mary.
He would find the vampire. And he would find the witch.
And when he did, they would all pay dearly for the humiliation they had brought upon him.