Lockhart's Legacy (Vespari Lockhart Book 1) (28 page)

“Whoops,” she muttered, going around beside him.

She patted him down, searching for it, as she wasn’t sure where he kept it. The ghoul continued toward them. This one seemed stronger than some of the others she’d seen. Older, maybe? More mature and farther along in the transformation than the others? She didn’t budge, but it certainly moved faster than the others. She didn’t have time. The ghoul was right behind her. She growled under her breath, grabbed the revolver, and twisted around. She held the barrel nearly to the creature’s forehead and fired, watching the ghoul’s brains splatter out the back of its skull. Due to the strain, her gut ached as though it was on fire, but she couldn’t worry about that now.

The problem wasn’t resolved. Two more ghouls appeared, drawn by the noise of her gunshot. These were even faster moving than the first had been. How long had the Gentleman been making ghouls? Wynonna slid the revolver back under her belt and continued to search Lockhart’s unmoving body. She switched back and forth between looking at the ghouls and watching what her hands were rifling through. She didn’t want to waste any more bullets. They were already down two, and only four were even loaded at the moment.

She finally had a bit of luck when she found the knife in Lockhart’s boot. She thought it a dangerous place to store a knife, but in the heat of the moment, she didn’t much care. Wynonna stood up and approached the two ghouls with the knife. Kicking one in the knee to knock it down and get it out of her way, she had the time to handle the other creature. She slid the knife into its temple, sending it to the ground in a heap. The other ghoul got to its feet just in time for Wynonna to stab it as well. The threat dealt with, Wynonna turned back to Lockhart, so she could get him to safety. Upon turning, however, she found another ghoul crouched over him and about to bite into his neck.

***

Petronila grabbed the fatty arm of Alviva, trying to pry her off the hemorrhaging vargulf. The bulbous beldam swatted her away. Petronila didn’t relent.

“You have to stop!” she told them.

Still, none of them listened, and Lockhart could do nothing either. He wasn’t sure why Petronila had suddenly changed her mind about preserving him. He had been bluffing. He had no idea what would happen if the ghouls killed him instead of the mark. They would still get whatever monster souls they’d already consumed anyway. If he were in their position, he would do as Alviva intended and gorge himself. Why the slender beldam wanted to draw it out, he wasn’t sure. It didn’t make any sense to him, but he didn’t much care, as long as it spared his life and gave him more time to kill the very creatures who threatened him.

Again, Petronila grabbed Alviva. This time, she managed to pry the fat beldam off her meal, but it resulted in an elbow to the face. Petronila stumbled back and Alviva followed her, blood still dripping from her mouth. She kept going until, Petronila hit a wall, and Alviva grabbed her by the neck.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” she said. “I lead this coven. I only allowed you to join us because of your knowledge of these spells. Because of the promises you made. Promises you haven’t fulfilled.”

“That’s… why you… need to listen,” Petronila struggled to say, her forked tongue hanging out of her mouth.

“You convinced us to do this to the vespari. Why would you want us to stop now? What are you planning?”

“I’m not… planning anything… The vespari is right… If you… let him die… we don’t get his energy…”

Alviva pointed her bloody hand back at her meal. “And that’s why I was eating what I can. You’re stopping me. Why?”

Petronila tried to shake her head, only managing to wiggle it a little. “It’s for your sake. Too much energy… will kill you.”

Alviva snarled at the slender beldam under her grip. “What are you talking about?”

***

Wynonna pulled the revolver from her belt and fired another shot. The bullet pierced the ghoul’s skull, the same as the former, and the creature fell over Lockhart’s body, spilling its black blood all over his chest.

“Gross,” she muttered, hobbling back to him and kicking the dead ghoul off her master’s body. “Three left,” she said, looking at the revolver.

Having a moment of respite, she thought it best to reload. She had the extra runed bullets she’d carved in her pocket, so she loaded three more into the chamber. Two bullets remained in her pocket. They were dwindling faster than she would’ve liked. Stowing the revolver back under her belt, she leaned down and grabbed Lockhart’s arms again, once more dragging him toward the barbershop.

Wynonna managed to make it the rest of the way there without further incident from any ghouls or the revenant himself. The pain in her gut was the greatest challenge she faced. Getting Lockhart’s limp body up the step to the walkway, however, presented a bit of a problem -- he was heavier than he looked. Through more strain though, she eventually got him up there. He’d likely have a bruise when he woke up. If he woke up. She pushed that thought from her mind. She would protect him. She just had to find a safe place to stow him, so she could deal with the rest of the ghouls and end the Gentleman for good this time.

Pushing open the door and dragging him through the entrance, Wynonna sat Lockhart down next to one of the two barber’s chairs and looked around. Not exactly a fortress, but it would do. The ghouls wouldn’t bother to come into a place like a barbershop if they didn’t see any sign of life within. The revenant would, after all, send the ghouls after treasure, and barbershops weren’t known to be overflowing with such things.

Her bullet wound, however, needed attention. Though the bullet had passed cleanly through, she was still bleeding. Finding a long towel hanging over the back of one of the chairs, Wynonna grabbed it and lifted up her shirt. Wrapping the towel around her midsection, covering both the entry and exit wound, she tied a knot into it, stopping the blood from leaking out anymore. She felt dizzy and lightheaded from the blood loss so far, but she had to keep moving. She had to get back out there and kill the Gentleman.

Before she could, however, she had to take care of her master. That just meant finding a spot to keep Lockhart out of sight. There were windows in the front that granted sight into most everything in the shop, so she was going to need to stow him somewhere for the time being. Spotting a closet off to the side, she suspected it would do the trick well enough. Approaching the closet door, Wynonna swung it open and discovered it wasn’t unoccupied.

***

Alviva loosened her grip on the slender beldam, allowing Petronila to breathe. “What are you talking about?” she asked.

After leaning over, coughing, and finally regaining her breath, she replied. “The energy wasn’t meant to be consumed so quickly. It’s dangerous. It’s combustive.”

Both Estrild and Mabilia stopped eating upon hearing this particular word.

“Combustive?” Alviva asked, wiping the blood from her mouth.

Petronila pointed at the vespari, struggling to breathe in this dreamscape they’d forced him into. “The tattoos. They contain the energy in a way that prevents it from harming him. We don’t have that same protection. We are susceptible to its unstable nature.”

Mabilia stepped forward and joined the conversation. “But we’ve had more than this before.”

“She’s right,” Alviva said. “You’re being overcautious. We should hurry and finish what we’ve started.”

Petronila gestured toward the numerous stacked cages lining the back of their manifested dream, each filled with a monster Lockhart had killed in his time as a vespari. “By all means,” she said. “Have your fill, but be certain, it will be your last meal.”

“I don’t want it to be my last meal!” Estrild shrieked, spitting out chunks of meat with each word. “I want to eat more! Lots more!”

Alviva stared at Petronila, sizing her up. She finally shook her head. “No. You’re planning something. You’re scheming. All this time, you’ve been planning something. I don’t know what it is, but your words have been poison to us all.” Alviva pointed a fat finger at Petronila. “You got Gunnilda killed. Filled her head with false thoughts. Then, you convinced Mabilia it was my fault.”

“It was your fault!” Mabilia shouted.

Alviva growled and kept going. “You’ve kept Estrild frightened. You got us to mark this vespari when we should’ve just killed him and been done with it. No more. We listen to you no more. I’m feasting on this vespari, until he succumbs. Then, I will deal with you.”

***

A man cowering in the closet held up his arms to shield himself from her. “Get back!” he demanded in a quivering voice.

More because of the surprise of the moment rather than the man’s assertiveness, Wynonna stumbled backward and fell on her butt. Upon seeing how unthreatening he was, she sighed and stood back up.

“What are you doing in there?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips.

“You’re… you’re not one of them?” the man asked. He peered out past her and surveyed the barbershop. “They didn’t follow you?”

Wynonna shrugged. “Just me… and him,” she said with a nod to Lockhart. “Now, what are you doing in there?”

“This is my shop. What are
you
doing here?”

Frowning, she turned back to Lockhart. “I need a place to hide my friend. I guess you had the same idea.”

The barber looked at Lockhart’s unmoving body. “Is he… is he… going to turn? Like the others?”

Wynonna shook her head. “No. He’s a vespari. Immune to that. Besides, he hasn’t even been shot. He’s just… he hit his head. He’ll be fine, but I’ve got to go deal with those things before they destroy the whole town.”

“You?”

“I’m a vespari too,” she told him with a certain flair of pride.

“But… you’re a woman.”

She glared at him. “Yeah. And?”

The barber shook his head. “I… uh… nothing. Nothing.”

“That’s right. So sick of people saying that,” she muttered. Then, pointing back to Lockhart, Wynonna told the man, “Help me get him in there. You’re going to look after him.”

“But, I--”

“But nothing. Get up and help me get him in the closet.”

The barber nodded. “Right. Okay.”

He stood up slowly and walked over to Lockhart. She grabbed her mentor’s arms, while the barber picked up his feet. Together, they carried him into the closet, where Wynonna leaned him up against the corner. She then moved back out and nodded toward the closet.

“Get in,” she told the barber.

He no longer argued, just doing what she told him. “Right.”

Wynonna grabbed the doorknob and started to close it, as the barber sat down across from Lockhart. Standing in the doorway, she said, “If he wakes up before I come back, tell him I went to the smithy.”

The barber nodded, shaking a little and saying nothing more.

Wynonna pointed at Lockhart. “Anything happens to him, I’m coming back for you. Got it?”

He nodded again, this time more vigorously. Wynonna wasn’t sure what all this meek little man might do against ghouls and a revenant, but she felt better leaving Lockhart with someone all the same. She closed the door on the two of them and left the small barbershop. She knew where she had to set up her trap. The smithy. It would be easy enough to burn a place like that down. The trick would be getting the revenant inside and preventing him from switching bodies before the flames consumed him.

The Gentleman’s interests seemed only to be for coin, treasure, and anything that glittered. How could she use that to draw him and his ghouls in? She wasn’t sure yet, but she wasn’t ready for that anyway. First, she needed to set things up in the smithy.

Wynonna almost felt bad for what she was going to do, but not so bad that she wasn’t prepared to do it. For all she knew the blacksmith was dead. She hadn’t seen any sign of him during her last visit there, anyway. She used that as her flimsy reasoning to go ahead with her plan. The smithy would provide the fire she needed. That just left a means of spreading that fire. Thinking back to what she’d seen at the silver mine entrance, she didn’t remember seeing any explosives. She hoped that there had been some though, because that was the best idea she had.

The barbershop wasn’t far from the silver mine, so Wynonna didn’t have far to go. She didn’t see any additional ghouls along the way, and the Gentleman hadn’t shown his face again after she’d burned him inside the office building. That was for the best, but there was no way she was going to let him slink away for good. Burning him once had felt good, but it meant nothing if he was just going to come back. She had to finish it.

With this goal in mind, she arrived at the silver mine entrance. The fire in the office had died down, with only small flames still crackling on the remaining boards. She scoured the ashes and smoke for a sign of the revenant’s discarded body, but the fire she started had destroyed it. She moved on, getting closer to the entrance of the mine. That was when Wynonna spotted a small building, far removed from everything else. On the outside, someone had painted ‘DANGER’ in big, bold, white lettering.

“There we go,” Wynonna said to herself.