The Black Lotus (Night Flower) (38 page)

“Disapp
ointed De Vire?” Montjoy spoke as he walked forward, a nasty nice smile playing about his lips. “I believe I said I would have my revenge.” He then lunged at her brother.

Marcus dove back out of the way and Montjoy missed, his swing going wide, sending him off balance.
Marcus retaliated, his fist punching Montjoy in the ribs and stomach, knocking the man backwards, yet the older man still came on. Melissa scrambled forward and seized Marcus’ dropped pistol. Picking it up, she cocked it and aimed at the struggling pair, waiting for a chance to shoot. Even with the dark suspicions running through her mind, she couldn’t let Montjoy hurt Marcus.

Marcus and Montjoy’s fight ranged across the room, knocking over chairs and tables. Melissa’s hand shook as she tried to keep a sight on Montjoy. Despite the blows that were landed on
his frame, the older man kept coming. Marcus stepped backwards and fell over a small footstool, landing in a tangled heap on the floor. Melissa saw her chance and fired. The lead pellet smashed into Montjoy’s chest and he gasped, the blood draining from his face as he fell to the ground.

“Thanks,
” Marcus gasped as he stood up. Walking across the room, he stared down at Montjoy’s body in confusion. “What the devil was he doing?” Melissa shook her head, her eyes not leaving Montjoy’s prone frame. The suggestion that he was as cursed as she, still lingered in her mind. She kept her gaze on the body, watching for signs of movement as Marcus knelt down, his fingers closing about Montjoy’s wrist as he felt for a pulse.

“I think he’s dead,” He announced after a few moments. Standing up, he walked up to Melissa and clasped hold of her shoulder. “I think you killed him.”
She did not respond, her eyes still staring at the prone form. Marcus glanced at her stony face and took it for shock. “You had no choice Melly,” He muttered reassuringly. “He must have attacked Mother and Alice.” He released her shoulder and walked back towards their mother. As Marcus moved away, Melissa darted forward to Montjoy’s side. Rolling him over on his back, she stared down at his face. His eyes were wide and unseeing. Taking a sigh of relief, she stepped back from the body and moved over to help her brother.

“Is she going to be alright?” She asked, her voice a whisper.

“I think so.” He glanced over at the sideboard. “Fetch some brandy.”

Melissa nodded and picked up the decanter that she had
placed down earlier. Picking up a glass, she poured a good measure of the spirit and walked back across the study. Handing the glass to her brother, she waited impatiently while he tried to rouse their mother.

Chapter 41
:

“I’m here on behalf of Katherine,” Alistair muttered as he nursed his bruised hand.

“Katherine or John?” Emily asked as she shut the door. “You can’t honestly expect us to believe that she is acting independently?” Stepping away from the door she sat down on one of the chairs and smoothed down her skirt.

Alistair sighed as he sat in one of the other chairs. “Alright, I would have to say that I’m here on John’s orders.”

“And what pray tell does John want with us?” Hugh picked up one of the decanters and poured another glass of brandy. Sitting down on the couch, he took a sip and relaxed. “More exhortations to join him in his crusade against your brother perhaps?”

“No,” A nasty nice smile crossed his features. “He wants you to stay clear of him and not get involved.”

“I believe we already do that,” Hugh replied, toying with the glass as he stared at the younger Lestrade.

“No, you skate on the edge of neutrality,” Alistair replied, a cold light glimmering in his eyes as he nodded at Hugh. “And you,” he indicated Emily with a dismissive wave, “You periodically sleep with my brother. I fancy that John finds that behaviour distasteful.”

“Oh heaven forefend.” Emily stepped away from the wall and
walked towards Alistair. “I don’t care about John or his crusade.” She walked towards him, anger evident in the set lines of her face. Stopping just shy of Alistair, she glared straight into his eyes. “I made my peace with Justin long ago.” She unfurled the fan and gently wafted it through the air. “I don’t particularly care for this curse but I’m living with it.”

“But do you want to make an enemy of John?” Alistair asked.

Emily laughed and snapped shut the fan. “I made an enemy of John a number of years ago. In fact…” She glanced around at Hugh. “I’d go so far as to say that we’re all enemies of that psychotic bastard.”

“Then you’re not worried?”

“Not in the least.” The door opened and Alistair stepped back, schooling his features back to polite disinterest. Emily turned and faced the door, smiling at the people who crossed the threshold.

“I really think you should listen,” Alistair hissed to her as she walked past him.

“Talk to Hugh.” She whispered. “Thank you however for the warning.” She stopped and leant closer. “But if John wants to play his games with me, then he’d better be ready for the consequences.” With that she swept past him and out of the room.

“Hugh?” Alistair looked at the older man, who shrugged and crossed the floor. A babble of conversation rose from the newcomers, covering there conversation.

“Don’t talk to me dear boy,” Hugh interrupted, shaking his head. “John knows not to mess with me.”

“You don’t understand Hugh…”

“Oh yes I understand very well.” Hugh chuckled, a harsh humourless laugh. “John is threatening us with the same torment he handed out to Justin.” He glanced up at the mirror and straightened his cravat. “I’m neutral Alistair. Both John and your brother know where I stand. I will assist either one of them, but.” He turned back to Alistair and a grim line appeared across his forehead. “If John feels the need to threaten me, then I may find my sympathies lying elsewhere.” He reached for his hat and placed it upon his head. “Let him know that.”

“Hugh?”

“No,” He did not raise his voice, yet there was a finality to it that Alistair paused at. “I believe you should work out your priorities. John is a loose cannon and not friendly to his allies, as Katherine discovered to her cost. If you link your fate to John, all you will receive is pain.”

“But what can I do?” Alistair replied with a modicum of panic. “John scares me, even my brother runs from him.”

“Do what Emily and I do,” Hugh replied, brushing down his jacket with a careless hand. “Don’t get involved.” He walked past Alistair then and out into the hallway. Alistair watched him go before leaving the room.

“I take it they ignored you?” Alistair glanced over his shoulder at Katherine and nodded slowly. The brunette walked forward and caught hold of his arm. “No matter,” She continued as she led the younger man from the room. “John has another plan of attack.”

Chapter 42:

Something woke Justin from deep sleep and he sat up, heart pounding in his chest. For several moments he sat there staring into the gloom of his living room. It was gone midnight, of that he was sure and the room was in almost total darkness. The curtains over the windows shut out the moonlight. As the covers fell away from his still wounded body, he realised that he could hear nothing within the house. Fear unfurled in his chest as he came to full wakefulness.

“Coll?” He called out, pushing aside the covers as he got to his feet. The glowing embers of the fire gave only the barest of light as he reached for the candle that lay on the table beside his chaise lounge. As he registered that there was no candle within reach, he also became aware of someone walking across the floor of the room toward him.

“I’m afraid your lackey is indisposed.” John’s silky tones crossed the space as he walked closer. Justin closed his eyes in resignation at the pronouncement. He wondered, or rather he hoped, that John had not taken Coll as a vessel.

“What do you want?” Justin pulled himself to his feet and stared through the darkness at John’s shape. “And light a candle, I’d like to see your face when I beat it.”

“Justin.” The voice chided as the figure stooped to the embers and lit a candle. “So much violence in you,” John stood, the candle throwing light across the room.

“You have this effect on me,” Justin pulled himself upright and walked towards John, raising his fist as he did so.

“Ah ah,” John held up a hand and smiled. “I wouldn’t,” He placed
the candle down on the table and leant back against the table.

“Why not?” Justin replied with a snort. “You took my brooch and left me for dead. You threatened a woman I care for and killed several innocent ones, I feel fully justified in beating you to a bloody pulp. Granted it won’t take but I least I’ll get some satisfaction out of it.”

“Justin, you misunderstand.” John smiled chuckling slightly as he did so. “Of course you may beat me, but that will only waste you time.”

Justin stopped moving and he stared at John with growing suspicion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean while you’re here beating me, my agent is dealing with your paramour.” Justin took a step back and stared at the other man in horror. “Of course,” John carried speaking in a conversational tone. “By all means you can start, but unless you want your current beloved to end up like your last one...”

Justin didn’t wait to hear any more. Despite the screaming pain in his ribs he raced from the room. Running through the main hall, he headed out in to the night. Ignoring the agony from his injuries, he raced across the drive towards the stables. Pulling open the door, he stopped. The scent of coppery blood hung in the air and his feet slipped on the slick floor. Looking down he swore as he took in the body of Coll. His retainer lay on the floor, his eyes wide with horror and his throat slit.

“I’m sorry Coll,” He whispered as he closed the man’s eyes. Pushing open the stable doors fully, he raced back into the building. It smelt of horse, sweat and now blood. Reaching the stalls, he pulled open the first door he came to and reached for one of the horses. Dragging himself onto the horses back, he urged the horse out of the stables and into the cool night air. There was a waxing moon in clear sky and the world was bathed in shades of milky white. In desperation, he kicked the horse into a gallop and they flew across the landscape, heading for the woods and Melissa’s house beyond.

Chapter 43:

Melissa watched as Marcus tended to their mother’s wounds. She felt like breaking down from the events of the evening. First there was her disastrous meeting with Hugh and Emily and now, she risked a glance at Montjoy on the floor, now he had come to her home. She bit her lip and tried not to cry, she had done enough of that already this evening.

“Mother?” Marcus stared down at their mother’s form with concern. “Melissa,”

Melissa was at his side in an instant, looking at the bloody wound to their mother’s head with apprehension.

“What is it?” She choked on the words, fear strangling each syllable. She took a deep gulp of air and tried again, hoping that what she feared was unfounded.

“Give me a hand?” Marcus reached down and took gentle hold of their mother’s body. Steadying himself against the dead weight, he picked her up. “Get the doors; we’ll take her upstairs.”

Melissa nodded and walked forward. She was stepping over Montjoy’s body, when his hand snaked out and seized hold of her ankle. With a scream, she crashed to the ground and watched in horror as the man dragged himself upright.

“It worked after all,” The older man sneered as he watched the shock on Marcus’ face with a grin. “I believe you owe me boy.” Montjoy lumbered forward and reached for Marcus. His body was slow and uncoordinated, but still moving. “And after I deal with you,” He cast a glance at Melissa, “I believe I’ll have your sister, after all, you can’t stop a dead man.”

“No!” Melissa grabbed a nearby vase and flung it at Montjoy’s head. The heavy ceramic shattered into myriad pieces, cutting into the man’s face. He bled freely, rivulets trickling over his skin to drip over his shirt.

“You can’t stop me girl,” Montjoy gasped out as he staggered forward.

Marcus carefully placed his mother on the ground and advanced on Montjoy, his face bleak. “Get out of here Melly,” He uttered in deadly grim tones.

“No! I’m not leaving you to…” Marcus grabbed her arm and propelled her towards the door.

“Get out of here and find the servants,” He gave her a push through the door, “If you can’t, get to the stables and run.”

“No Marcus!” She shouted as he pulled the door shut and she heard the bolts strike home. “No!” Flattening herself against the heavy wood, she hammered futilely on the hard surface of the door. From within she could hear the sounds of a struggle and she sank to her knees, weeping in frustration and fear as she tried once again to beat on the unyielding wood.

“Please Marcus don’t die,” She whispered, despair running through her as she imagined her brother lying still and cold. Something large or heavy fell over in the other room and she looked up, wondering if her brother was now lying dead.

“Crying about it won’t help,” She whispered to herself as she picked herself up from the floor. Looking at the closed door, she pushed aside the desire to curl into a ball and hide. Wiping the tears from her face with the back of her hand she turned and faced the hall, resolve building in her chest as she took stock of her situation. “If I find the servants it may be too late,” She muttered. Making a snap decision, she reached out for her father’s cane. Her fingers closed around the smooth wood and she pulled it free from its stand in the hall. Clasping the cane tightly in her hand, she ran from the study door. With light steps, she raced to the front door and pulled at the handle. Flinging it open she raced through and out onto the drive.

Heading out into the darkness, she raced towards the side of the building, heading for the windows to the study. Her skirt wrapped about her legs and she fell heavily. The breath whooshed out of her lungs and she scraped the skin on her hands and face. Bruised and almost in tears from fear, she picked herself up. Blood ran freely from a long scratch on her hand and pain radiated through her. She looked down at the long restricting skirt and swore. Reaching down, she grabbed the front of her dress and tore, ripping the fabric from the hem to the waist. As her legs became free, she seized hold of the cane and started to run. Heading for the side of the house, she raced round it, fright fuelling her movements. When she reached the study window, she swung the cane, shattering the window with several powerful blows. In a panic, she clambered over the windowsill, slicing the delicate skin on her hands as she did so.

“Marcus!” She called as she pushed herself against the heavy shutters, hoping that the household staff hadn’t managed to secure the panels yet. “Marcus!” She could hear fighting from within and she pushed again with renewed hope. The shutter rattled in its place but did not move. As she readied herself for another blow, she heard a familiar voice cry out from beyond the shutter. In her fear and worry, she threw herself at the shutters, jarring her bones painfully as they gave way. She spilled through the window and into the room, landing in a heap on the floor. Dragging herself upright, she stared into the room looking for her brother and Montjoy.

“Good evening Miss De Vire,” She choked back a scream as Montjoy’s arm closed about her throat and pulled her close to his chest. As he dragged her across the floor, she could see her see her brother. He lay before the fire with his eyes closed and shirt bloody. Her cry of horror was choked by his hold on her throat as he dragged her mercilessly across the floor. She could see her mother still unconscious in the chair and took a deep fearful breath.

“How nice of you to get ready for me.” Montjoy’s voice echoed in her ears as one of his hands reached down to her torn skirt.

“Bastard!” She swore and kicked back, feeling her heel connect against his hard shin.  He staggered back but did not let go.

“Enough of that,” He growled in her ear before throwing her to the ground. “You’ll only make me angry.”

Melissa lay on the floor and stared up at him. His shirt was red from where she had shot him and he limped toward her, his injuries clearly slowing him down.

“As you can see, I can’t die.” He reached into a pocket and pulled a black lotus blossom from its depths.
“Such a wonderful thing isn’t it,” He whispered in a marvellous tone. “I can just keep going.” He walked forward slowly.

Melissa rolled and stood, reaching for the mantel and several large vases. Grasping one in her hands, she threw it across the room, where it broke against his head. He staggered back, woozy from the blow.

“You’re only making it worse.” He threatened as he lurched forward.

She threw another vase, this one caught him in the chest and he doubled up in pain. Melissa reached for something else to throw but at that moment, her mother groaned as she started to come round. Montjoy turned and headed for Lydia, flicking open the lotus as he did so. Melissa threw the next vase before racing across the room towards Montjoy.

Melissa grabbed hold of Montjoy’s arm, but even as wounded as he was, he was still stronger than she. He pushed her back to the floor as he reached for her mother, holding the lotus blossom in his hand.

Justin reined in outside of the De Vire manor as an anguished scream rent the air. Throwing himself from his horse, he raced into the manor as fast as his legs could carry him. He reached the main hall and caught sight of the dead body in the hallway.

“Melissa!” He shouted, hoping that she was nearby.

Melissa stared at the body of her mother in shock. It had taken but a moment. As Lydia De Vire’s eyes had flickered open, Montjoy had thrust the brooch before her gaze. Just one look sealed her fate. Melissa had watched as her mother jerked as though she had been shot. Blood poured from wounds that appeared from nowhere as Montjoy stood straighter, the damage leaving him.

“Melissa!” She heard the shout from the hallway and screamed out, trying hard not to watch her mother die.

Justin raced through the hall and entered the study, stopping in horror at the sight that met his eyes. Montjoy was reaching for Melissa as her mother lay crumpled and dead nearby and Marcus, he glanced down at the other man but couldn’t tell whether he were alive or not. The thing that really drew his attention was the lotus bloom in Montjoy’s hand.

“Lestrade,” Montjoy turned to face the newcomer. “How kind of you to make it?” He lifted his hand and showed him the lotus. “I hear I have you to thank for this.”

Justin ignored him; he glanced over to Melissa and helped her to her feet. “Are you alright?”

“He killed my mother,” She replied, her voice dead and eyes full of hate. “I’ll kill him.” She lunged forward, taking Justin by surprise. Rage powering her, she struck out at Montjoy wildly, attacking with her hands, feet and teeth. He pushed her to the floor, his foot slamming into her side and she gasped in pain. Justin moved between them and seized Montjoy’s arms.

“Don’t you even think about it,” He snarled back, more angry than he had ever been.

“What do you think you can do?” Montjoy smiled back. “You can barely stand, you haven’t healed your injuries and you can’t.” He pulled back and tried to break free, but Justin held on.

“True I am injured.” He replied with a grim smile, “But I know more about this than you.” He twisted the arm that held the locket and watched as it hit the floor. As Montjoy tried once again to pull himself free, he shouted over his shoulder. “Kick it into the fire.” He shouted at Melissa, who rushed forward and bent down. “Don’t pick it up!” He yelled in panic as her hand closed on the smooth enamel. He watched with dawning shock as she stood, lotus in hand and without falling unconscious.

“It’s alright,” Melissa said with a grim smile. “Your friend Emily already gave me my own one of these.” And with that, she threw the lotus into the fire. Montjoy flinched as though he had been struck and Justin took advantage of the distraction, throwing the man backwards and into the wall. He reached down and picked up the poker that had been dropped earlier. With an almost nonchalant motion, he swung the poker at the man’s head. Montjoy fell to the ground and Justin lay about his prone body with the poker, landing blows came thick and fast until Montjoy lay still on the study floor with a bloody mess for his head.

Justin backed off and dropped the poker, his face grey from the exertion. Melissa rushed to his side and stared at the body.

“What do we do?”

“He’ll be awake soon, but he will be decaying.” Justin muttered as he reached down and pulled Montjoy’s body upright. “Help me with him,” Melissa rushed over and helped pick up the body.

“What are we doing with him?”

“Burying him,” Justin answered simply. He took in the shock that crossed her features and continued, “Or at the very least, making sure he won’t move for a while.” Together they manoeuvred the body from the study and out onto the grounds. Justin loaded him on the back of his horse and mounted up behind.

“Where are you taking him?”

“My estate,” He called back. “It won’t take me long,” He glanced up at Melissa’s house and then back at the girl before him. “I think you should pack some essentials, things that won’t be missed. You’re going to have to leave tonight.”

And with that he took off across the grounds at a fast gallop, leaving Melissa to stare after him in shock. Turning back to the house, she rushed into the study and the body of her brother.

“Marcus,” She whispered, reaching down to shake his shoulder. “Marcus,” his skin was warm beneath her fingers and she could see his chest rise and fall, so she knew he was not dead. “Marcus please wake up,” She pleaded, settling back on her heels and beginning to cry.

She was still sat there when Justin returned. He reached her side and hunkered down next to her, his arms sliding across her shoulders. With a moan, she turned and cried into his shoulder, feeling his warm arms supporting her.

“Do I have to go before knowing he’s alright?” She whispered when she finally gained control of her emotions.

“Yes,” Justin replied, his voice low and sorrowful. “Because you will be assumed to have been abducted or killed. When Marcus comes to, he will tell them about Montjoy.” He took a deep breath continued, his heart heavy with all the things he had to say.  “They will see your mother and assume that he found you and left.”

“But I can’t just leave…” He pulled back from the hug and stared her deep in the eyes.

“You have to,” He stood up and reached down a hand. “I’m so sorry I got you into this.” Melissa stared at the hand and then back at her brother.  “He will be alright,” He reassured, stepping closer and laying a hand upon her shoulder. “I should know, I’ve seen more than enough wounds. It’ll take a couple of hours but he will be alright.”