Lockhart's Legacy (Vespari Lockhart Book 1) (27 page)

The Gentleman seemed not to notice however. He reached out and grabbed Wynonna by the ankle. She pulled away from him, but his fingernails dug deep. She couldn’t free herself. Spotting an unlit lantern hanging from a hook on the wall, Wynonna reached up and grabbed it. She then turned and smashed the glass over the revenant’s head, spilling the oil inside all over him. The crash was enough to cause the Gentleman to release his grip on her, but he quickly recovered.

Wynonna just needed her lighter. In the chaos of the tackle and the falling bookshelf, she’d lost track of it. Looking around, she didn’t spot the little metal box, but that was fine. Wynonna had one other idea. She crawled away from the revenant and reached for the metal pipe she’d brought. She knew it had cooled since grabbing it in the smithy, but she hoped that with the aid of the lantern’s oil, it would be enough to ignite the revenant in a blaze.

Meanwhile, the Gentleman had freed himself from the bookshelf, and he now crawled after Wynonna. He grabbed her leg once more before she took hold of the pipe, dragging her back enough so that the weapon was beyond her reach. With her other foot, she reared back and kicked him square in the jaw. He didn’t release his grip on her, so she repeated it. And then once more. With the third, she dislodged his jaw, which was enough to cause him to finally let go of her foot, giving her enough room to get the pipe. The metal was still warm on her now ungloved palms, so she hoped it would be enough.

Wasting no time, Wynonna turned around and hit the Gentleman with the pipe but lost her grip on the metal. It didn’t matter. Just as she’d hoped, the rod had retained sufficient heat to ignite the oil. Flame engulfed the entire revenant’s head, and it quickly overtook his entire body. The fire then spread from him to the building itself. Not wishing for the flames to consume her as well, Wynonna got to her feet, turned, and headed for the door. She was certain to grab Lockhart’s revolver along the way, and as she did, she turned to appreciate her victory.

The Gentleman writhed back and forth on the floor, attempting to put out the fire, but the monstrous creature still made no noise to signify the pain he was in. This was the only aspect of his death she didn’t appreciate. All this time, she’d wanted to hurt him, to see him suffer, but he refused to grant her this. Regardless, he would die from the flames, and she smiled, watching the fire engulf him and send dark black smoke into the air.

As the fire spread closer and the smoke grew with it, Wynonna backed up further, but she refused to look away. She couldn’t see much through the smoke and fire, and she lost sight entirely of the Gentleman, but still she looked on. She kept backing up into the street, until she hit someone.

A sudden fear that the revenant had survived the flames, Wynonna swiveled around, aiming the revolver. A hand caught her by the wrist, however.

“You o-okay?” Lockhart asked, looking past her at the blaze.

***

She smiled at him. “Oh, Cory. It’s just you.”

“Where is h-he?” he asked, releasing her wrist.

Wynonna pointed the revolver back toward the fire in the silver mine office.

“You k-k-killed him?”

She nodded, the smile still plastered on her face. “Wasn’t easy, but I got him.”

“How do you f-feel?” Lockhart asked.

“Better,” Wynonna replied, tucking the revolver under her belt. “Better now that he’s dead.”

He shook his head. “N-not what I meant. The t-t-tattoos. You should have the revenant’s p-pain suppression.”

Wynonna held her hands out before her, examining them. She then looked up at Lockhart and shrugged. “I feel the same, I guess.”

He didn’t like that answer. Lockhart reached and grabbed Wynonna’s arm, pinching the fleshy part between his fingers.

“Ow!” she exclaimed. “What was that for?”

“He’s n-not dead. He jumped to a new b-body.”

“But I saw him burn.”

Shaking his head, he told her, “You only burned a g-g-ghoul.”

No sooner than the words had left his mouth, a gunshot fired, and Wynonna jerked forward, clutching her stomach. Lockhart turned around to see the Gentleman standing there with that grinning maw of his and smoke flowing up from the barrel of one of his guns.

Wynonna dropped to her knees, doubled over in pain. She couldn’t deal with the revenant in that moment, so he had to. Lockhart leaned down, grabbed his revolver from her belt, and turned to fire on the revenant. He knew it wouldn’t kill the creature, but he struck it right in the head anyway. He didn’t have time to burn the body correctly, so he decided to take it out and give them an opportunity to recover.

As the Gentleman’s body tipped backward and fell, black ooze pouring out of the bullet hole in its head, the creature changed from revenant back into a standard ghoul. It was no surprise to him, but it proved with certainty that there were still more ghouls around for the Gentleman to hop into. He hadn’t killed them all yet.

“You know, I think you’re right,” Wynonna said to him, still clutching the wound in her gut and giving him a strange grin. “I don’t think I have the pain suppression.”

Lockhart smiled at her. “Don’t w-worry,” he told her. “As long as w-we get the bullet out, you won’t be in any d-d-danger. The tattoos will protect you from the t-toxic effects.”

“Yay,” she muttered with faux enthusiasm. “Then, the pain is just a bonus?”

“Let m-me see,” he told her, putting the revolver down on the ground.

Lockhart then moved Wynonna’s hands from his way and looked at the wound in her gut. It wasn’t good, but it could’ve been worse. In fact, given its placement, he thought it might’ve gone clean through her. Shifting around to her back, he saw the same type of wound there.

“You’ll b-be fine,” he told her. “Bullets already o-out. You just need to deal with the p-pain and the blood.”

Wynonna gritted her teeth and grabbed the revolver again. “Yeah, and I know exactly what’ll make me feel better.”

“We need to go together this time,” Lockhart said, helping his apprentice to her feet.

“Yeah, alright. Fine. What’s the plan?”

Before he could speak, Lockhart’s face drew gaunt, and his eyelids drooped. He collapsed to the ground.

***

Lockhart found himself in familiar territory. The beldams had brought him in for yet another feast. They couldn’t have picked a more inopportune time. Wynonna was alone to deal with the Gentleman, and his own body was vulnerable and only going to slow her down. He couldn’t expect his apprentice to deal both with protecting him and killing the revenant and all his ghouls.

The beldams all crept forward from the darkness to examine him. Alviva licked her lips, Mabilia caressed her handless arm, Estrild grinned and cackled lightly to herself, and Petronila stayed in the back, rubbing her hands together in her typical scheming manner.

The vespari had chosen to stay silent in every encounter with these beldams, either in reality or in the dream world they conjured. No longer.

“S-s-send me b-back!” Lockhart demanded.

“Ooh!” Alviva said, tilting her head to the side. “The vespari finally deigns to speak to us.”

“And with a stutter,” Mabilia added. “How pathetic.”

“He’s stupid!” Estrild shrieked, jumping up and down on the spot and clapping.

“S-send me back!” Lockhart repeated, ignoring their taunts. “I’ll d-die if you d-don’t.”

“We want you to die, little vespari,” Alviva told him.

“But not like th-this,” he replied. “You want my energy, b-but if you don’t send me b-back, a revenant w-will kill me. He’ll t-t-turn me into a ghoul. I’ll b-be useless to you.”

Petronila laughed so loud the other beldams turned back to look at her. “You really do want to go back,” she said. “But, I wonder how much of that story was true.”

“It’s a-all true!”

The slender beldam wagged her finger at him. “Now, now. I know a thing or two about those marks on your chest. I know you can’t become a ghoul. Try again.”

“How d-does a beldam know a-a-anything about vespari marks? Your k-kind rejects all m-magic but your own.”

Again, the other three beldams all looked back at Petronila.

“How do you know about them?” Alviva asked. “How did you know about the Caustic Brand either?”

“None of that matters,” the slender beldam hissed. “I’ve brought us power, and I know he lies! He won’t become a ghoul.”

***

“This is no time for one of your naps, Cory!” Wynonna said, leaning over his body and shaking him. “Don’t do this to me! Not now!”

Her vespari mentor didn’t reply. He didn’t even stir. The beldams had pulled him into a deep sleep, into their dreamscape. She didn’t know much about it, but from what Lockhart had told her, she wanted no part of it. At that moment, she couldn’t worry about what was going on in the beldam’s dream though. There were far greater concerns in the real world. The revenant was still out there, his ghouls had to be around somewhere, her gut was on fire from the gunshot wound, and now Lockhart’s body was limp and lifeless in the middle of it all.

“What am I supposed to do?” she asked him.

Wynonna found much the opposite of an answer to that question when a series of gunshots fired not far from their location. The revenant had likely just shot someone else, creating yet more ghouls to use against her.

“Not good,” she muttered. Looking back to Lockhart, Wynonna said, “We gotta get you out of here, Cory.”

Another pair of gunshots.

“Damnit. How am I supposed to even kill--?”

Wynonna paused, trying to think of a way to deal with the revenant. She’d lost her lighter and the hot metal rod in the fire at the silver mine office. There was, however, a still burning fire she could use. The smithy where she’d found the rod in the first place. The blacksmith had left the fires going. Surely, she could use that to her advantage somehow.

That still left what she was supposed to do with Lockhart though. Wynonna might be able to drag him somewhere out of sight, but the wound in her gut would make that a painful challenge. A guttural groan nearby, however, was enough of a prompt for her to try. Looking around for a place to hide him, she spotted a barbershop, red and white pole included, not far off. Deciding it would be a good enough place to drop Lockhart off, she leaned down and grabbed the vespari’s arms, just then noticing the new bandage wrapped around his arm.

Leading him to the Gentleman had put him at risk. Maybe the fortune teller was right. She’d denied the consequences of her choice all while relying on the information Iris had provided her. Would Lockhart really die all because of Wynonna’s quest to satisfy her own vengeance? No, she wouldn’t allow it. Not if she could help do anything about it. Gritting her teeth, Wynonna started to pull him toward the barbershop.

***

“Sh-sh-she’s lying to you,” Lockhart said. “D-deceiving you.”

“What are you talking about, little vespari?” Alviva asked.

“Ignore him,” Petronila told the others. “He tries to drive a wedge between us.”

“Send m-me back!” Lockhart repeated. “If I die, y-you don’t get my energy. No, I w-won’t become a ghoul, but th-th-they’ll still k-kill me, and you get n-nothing more!”

Mabilia lumbered to Petronila and grabbed her tattered clothing. “Is he right? What happens if he dies? You promised us so much more than this!”

The slender beldam wormed her way out of Mabilia’s grip and sneered. “Yes, the spell will be interrupted if he dies to any method other than the mark.”

“Then, we’ll gorge ourselves before the revenant can kill him,” Alviva ordered, pointing at the cages and drawing one toward her.

A wild vargulf, the creature a lycanthrope became when killed incorrectly, was what she happened to summon forward. Alviva ripped the cell door open and charged into the cage. As strong as the vargulf had been when Lockhart killed it, it was nothing compared to the beldam in the dreamscape. She tore it to pieces, shoving chunks into her mouth.

“No!” Petronila said. “We don’t have enough time to consume everything.”

“Speak for yourself,” Alviva replied, spitting blood and guts from her lips as she spoke. “My appetite knows no limit.”

“That isn’t what I mean,” the slender beldam said.

The other two ignored her words and called forth their own meals. Mabilia chose a strigoi, a hulking bat-like vampire, while Estrild consumed a pair of ghouls. With each bite, Lockhart felt weaker. He felt himself slip away from his real body, from his obligations, from Wynonna and everything he still had left to teach her.

“Stop!” Petronila shouted at the others.

Still, they persisted in their ravenous feast.

***

A ghoul grew too close. Wynonna had nothing left to attack them with, and still she didn’t want to waste a bullet on such a lowly creature. Lockhart had a knife, but she didn’t see it. She hadn’t seen it as she dragged him toward the barber. It had to still be on him. Wynonna released Lockhart’s arms, letting his body fall to the ground, harder than she’d intended.