The Devil & Lillian Holmes (24 page)

“I am not sure I believe anything that devil claims, but I assure you, I would not hesitate for a moment to end her reign of terror on me and mine.”

“You may not hesitate now, but you cannot know what you will feel in months, in years… Let me take care of her, if I can.”

Lillian pushed Phillip away. “You are quite right. How could I imagine? What a family have I had! You heard her. I was a waste of her time, a total waste, as was my son. I was a mistake.” She shook her head. “That is not my mother. I have no mother! I never did, and I never will. That creature let me be raped by one of her servants. Then she stole my child. I have no father! He was hanged, an insane murderer. What would you have me do, Phillip? Leave my George to rot here? This city, this world has not seen the likes of that monster called Madame Lucifer, and you would have me walk away?”

“Quiet!”

“I…I will not be quiet. I will never be quiet again.” Lillian loaded her pistol. “Tell me if my silver bullets will kill her. Tell me how to do this. I shall do it with or without your help.”

Phillip took in a deep breath and pushed the gun away. “No, they will not stop her. And I know of nothing short of a miracle that will.”

Lillian shook her head and pushed past him. She reentered the house and made her way down the hallway to the stairs leading to the cellar.

“After you, Miss Holmes,” Phillip muttered as she passed.

George rose and stood statue-still when he saw her reach the bottom of the landing. She stopped for a moment and focused on him alone. He glanced behind her at Phillip then met her gaze again. A half smile passed across his face as a noise of amusement sounded from the other side of the room.

Lillian wouldn’t look at Marie, not just yet. “Didn’t you know, George?”

“Know what, my love?”

“That neither of us could let you go. I know now that it is not because you are our maker. Is it, Phillip? It is because we love you. I love you. Truly. The maker’s bond did not trump my desire to find my child, but I chose you anyway. I will save you, and then I will save him.”

“What a lovely speech.” Marie’s sarcasm was overdone, like everything else about the woman. “I am the one who gave you life.”

“No.” Lillian turned and faced her. “You didn’t.”

Despite her words, the horrible truth of her parentage tore through her at the sight of Marie. But Lillian took care to stand as tall as she could, and Marie seemed to become frailer in comparison. It gave her hope.

“What do you know of it? I am your mother!”

“No, you are not my mother. I deny you that title. I reject it, I reject you. I will be an orphan always, although I do have a maker, who has loved me as well as anyone could. That will do nicely.”

Marie scoffed. “You cannot reject the facts, my dear. Did you know that George and I were lovers? How does that sit with you, the thought of his lips against mine, his insatiable passion for me, the hours—
days—
spent in one another’s arms? The sharing of our blood. That is a particular favorite of his, isn’t it, Georgy? Or has he given that up? Would you still have him?”

Phillip put himself between them. “Marie, stop it. What do you want from her? What sin of yours is she paying for?”

“Ah, he finds his voice. My timid husband, cuckolded by his own brother, hiding in corners of the world for centuries. You, Phillip, were truly a waste of everyone’s time.”

“Ugly, body and soul. You always were, and you are still the most hideous creature. I was pleased when George took you off my hands for a while. You never imagined that I loved you, did you?”

A slight movement of her hand sent Phillip to the floor clutching at his throat, and for the first time Lillian saw Chauncey Sullivan. The dark-skinned giant stared on, as if he watched a play he had no part in.

“That’s enough!” Lillian strode to within a few feet of her mother, horrified at the visible signs of her evil life, the stench of her, the insanity in her eyes…and the sadness. All the power in the world hadn’t brought her an ounce of happiness.

Marie held her hand out briefly, and Lillian wondered what the gesture meant. Surely she did not expect an embrace.

With a flash of insight, Lillian nearly lost strength in her legs. “You never wanted George. It was never about hurting him.”

“Of course it was, stupid girl!”

“I am not stupid. I am quite intelligent. You wanted me—for what purpose, I cannot imagine, as you have deemed me a total waste of your time.”

Marie lifted her chin in defiance, but Lillian saw that she bit back a protest and was unsure of herself.

Lillian forced herself to stop shaking. “Why?” She screamed this time. “Why, why, why? How could you do it? How could you abandon me, shame me, lock me away?”

Marie closed her eyes. “Take a look at me. What would you have done?”

Lillian dropped her arm and closed her eyes to spare herself the horrible sight before her, a wretched, evil, tired, bloodied, decaying woman, who should look no older than herself but instead looked as if she carried every disease, every burden she’d inflicted on others, every sin she’d enacted.

“I, madam, would have done my best. I do not know how, but it would have been better than what you managed. I would not have killed innocents such as Annaluisa and Aileen. I would not have ruined a thousand lives. I would not have bargained with corrupt mortals. I would not have abandoned my baby. I am not you.”

“Ah, but you are so like me. You just don’t understand it yet. I am dying, Lillian. Would you not at least offer me a bit of grace? Surely I lost my soul long ago. My only salvation could be a bit of your compassion.”

“I have nothing to give you. You must rot in Hell knowing you were never loved.”

“I left you alone as long as I could bear.”

Lillian let the words flow through her, let the truth of them fill her every fiber. She said nothing.

“You were mortal, and lovely. You did not know your mother was a monster. They told you she was dead so you wouldn’t look for me. So you would be free. I did something for you.”

“But you let a man take me against my will, and then you killed me again by taking my own flesh and blood. I could have loved a vampire. I
do
love a vampire. I could not love a monster.”

Marie nodded. “I only wanted…”

Lillian shook her head. “No. There is nothing in the world that will excuse that sin. But I will grant you the thing you gave to me: abandonment. I abandon you. Let George, Phillip, and Sullivan go. Give me my son, whom you find so very uninteresting, and let us carry on with our useless existences as you see them.”

Sullivan closed his eyes for a moment. “I am able to sweeten the bargain, Marie.”

“You?” Madame Lucifer barely turned. “What use are you?”

The giant pulled a chain from around his neck and let the vial swing free. It was hypnotic. Lillian wanted to sway in time with the vial, and she could have sworn it emitted a high hum. “Let them all go, and you will have your immortality, and health, and beauty. All that is slipping through your fingers.”

“Nonsense,” Marie whispered, but she moved closer and extended her hand. “What is that? It is old; it is strong. Is this some voodoo magic of that pathetic woman of yours?”

“Ancient, and yet it is liquid still. The fountain of youth, Madam. Elder blood.”

Chauncey pulled out the stopper and spilled a drop of scarlet onto his finger. Lillian’s pulse quickened, and hunger gnawed at her. She took a step toward the giant, but George ran to her side and held her arm.

“No,” he hissed into her ear. The power of his bond crashed through her, and she nearly fell to her knees. He would not let her move. Phillip stood like a statue, too, frozen by George.

“There are no Elders. There is no Elder blood.” But Marie stood before Chauncey, body shaking. She grabbed his hand and stared at the drop on his finger, and then at the vial.

“His name is Vasil, and he is my Lord, Heaven help me. He favors me and gifted me this vial.”

“Favors you? A lowlife, a cannibal, a
Negro?
”

Chauncey’s eyes flashed with the first emotion Lillian had seen on his face. Fury. The gentle giant had awoken. “Fine, Marie. I will keep if for myself and for my love. We will rule together with Vasil’s power flowing through our veins.”

“Vasil’s power? Vasil’s poison! If that is powerful Elder blood, take a drop for yourself first, Chauncey.” Marie looked on anxiously, barely able to contain herself.

Chauncey dipped his finger in the vial, closed his eyes, and put the finger in his mouth. He sucked on the blood there. No one moved for a minute, until Chauncey blew out a deep breath and opened his eyes.

Marie knocked him to the ground and sucked at his fingertip. He laughed as she grabbed the vial and emptied it in one swift drink, and she stood and lifted her arms in triumph. For a moment she looked young, and healthy, and almost mortal.

Marie turned to Lillian. “Would you still reject me as I am now? I am as an Elder!”

“I only wanted a mother.”

“Then die. Die motherless.”

Marie extended her hand. Her summons didn’t break George’s bond at first. Lillian held on to him, crying. All was lost. Intentionally or not, Chauncey Sullivan had betrayed them.

“My baby,” she whispered.

Marie suddenly clutched at her stomach and fell to her knees. Youth faded from her body, and the old, foul stench filled the room. She shrieked and struggled, beckoning at last for Lillian to help her. Her black veins ruptured, and in moments all her blood drained from her body onto the floor. She lay motionless, a hideous shell.

George hugged Lillian, who found she could move again. He spoke over her head to Chauncey.

“Why did you not tell us?”

“You felt the pull of Vasil’s blood before you knew. I didn’t think you wanted Marie’s fate.”

“No, hardly. Why didn’t it have that effect on you?”

“I…I don’t know. I took a chance. He said… Well, it is not important. Perhaps I am not so evil as to be killed by it.”

“As I told you, my good man. You
are
a good man now, and it is time for you to accept the present.”

“How do you know Vasil, Chauncey?” Phillip sounded skeptical, and Lillian wondered again if they could trust their ally. “What exactly did he say to you?”

“He found me for this purpose.” Sullivan gestured to the goo and ragged clothing on the floor, all that was left of Marie.

“Tell us about him, please!”

“Phillip,” George interrupted, pulling his brother by the arm. “We have time for that later. We must find Jacques. Who knows what allies remain to our foe?”

“Perhaps Doyle and Moran have found the boy,” Lillian volunteered.

“Doyle and Moran?” George shook his head. “You brought them here?”

“No, they came on their own.”

“I don’t know if they are more brave or stupid,” Chauncey said, tiredly washing his palms across his face.

“Come, Lil. There’s nothing more to see here.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

The congressman and his wife.

Despite their victory, Lillian could not stop shaking. She turned away from George to reach for the pills in her bag as they raced down the main hallway of the house, but she couldn’t find them. Perhaps even medicine wouldn’t cure this case of nerves. They were seeking Jacques. Her
son.

George reached back and hurried her along.

“Where is Chauncey?” Lillian asked.

They stopped and listened. The house seemed completely deserted. No children or servants stirred, and they heard no noise of Moran or Doyle. It was as a crypt.

“He’s fled, I suppose,” George said. “I wanted to thank him—”

Phillip held his finger to his mouth, and they were more silent still and heard nothing. “Should we spread out?”

“No!” Lillian said. “There could be any number of traps.”

“Darling, traps can’t hurt us, remember?” George whispered. “At least not ones meant for mortals.”

“I’d prefer all three of us to emerge from this hellish den in one piece, if you please,” Lillian commanded. “Follow me.”

She scurried up the grand staircase, careful not to make a sound and motioning to the men to do the same. George rolled his eyes and took a great leap to the second-floor balcony, and Phillip followed.

“Well, yes, I’m new at this,” she hissed when she arrived next to them.

The first three rooms were empty. George opened the door to the fourth and cursed. Lillian pressed past him, but he put his arm around her waist to hold her back.

“I do believe that is the congressman from the second district.”

“Dear God, he’s been shot?” Phillip seemed more surprised at the manner of death than the murder itself.

“Quiet! And let me through.” Lillian extracted herself from George’s embrace and fell to her knees. “I see no footprints or smudges of mud, and it has been wet these last few days.”

“Blazes, Lil, what does it matter now? We must find Jacques!”

She looked up at George. “There is an order we must follow. If our murderer took Jacques, it would serve us well to know who he is.”

“From a nonexistent shoeprint?”

“It narrows things down, yes!” She crawled toward the body and examined the bullet wound to the temple. “A good shot, indeed. I am not so good. I believe the bullet is still in his head, as I see no second opening.” She turned his head to the side and poked through his bloodied hair.

“How do you put up with this, George?” Phillip joked.

“Shut up. Lil, come
on!”

“Did you hear any shots, George? He was killed before you arrived then, which was over an hour ago?”

“At least.”

“Then it was not Mr. Doyle or Johnnie. No, this blood is too dry.” Lillian stood and, with logic, fought back her exhaustion and nausea. “So there may be another.”

They opened four more doors and found only bedrooms and privies.

“Where are they?” she said. “Where are the servants, other children—doesn’t the congressman have children?”

“I’m not sure, but I think not. There are no children’s accoutrements in any of these rooms. But where is Mrs. Coyle?”