“Mama and Papa grieve for you, Lydia.” Feeling guilty, Elizabeth tried to reason rather than fight.
Lydia bared her fangs.“I grieve for no one.”The girl took a step closer.“I will not grieve for you, Sister.”
“But I will grieve for you, Lydia.” Elizabeth intuitively raised the poker in a defensive stance.
Meanwhile, Damon fought for his life. With no experience in fighting vampires, at first, he underestimated the brute strength of the animals he encountered, seeing only a beautiful woman and a pretty girl. But a few well-placed blows from his attackers told him that he fought more than the shell in which each was encased. He fought unearthly demons determined to strip him of his very soul. Knowing Elizabeth’s life was in danger, he redoubled his efforts. Finally, the woman charged, and he thrust at the same time.
When the sword pierced her heart, a blood-curdling shriek filled the room as her momentum impaled her all the way to the
“Lydia, no!” he heard Elizabeth warn behind him as he pushed back on the woman’s body, following her to the floor.
Screams continued as Damon frantically wrestled with the woman’s limp form to free the sword, finally placing his booted foot on her chest and yanking at the handle with all his might.
Darcy, hearing Elizabeth’s calls of distress, fought his way to his feet. Reeling from exhaustion and desiccation, he knew he must find some way to reach her. He must stop Elizabeth from being the one who hurt her sister. She would never forgive herself, no matter how justified the action. Staggering back through the open doorway, he battled for some sort of control.
Elizabeth had reacted too late to fend off Lydia’s attack, assuming she could rekindle the goodness she had once known in her sister, and now she struggled to keep Lydia’s claws from tearing at her face and neck. Lydia’s inhuman strength surprised Elizabeth as she twisted and turned, trying to wrench herself free of the viselike grip of the being’s hell-bent fury, but Lydia’s demonic possession pushed Elizabeth farther against the wall, effectively pinning her and allowing Lydia to move in for the final mastication.
Elizabeth’s scream shattered the near silence of the room as Lydia lowered her head. Darcy raised his arms, and everything moved in slow motion as Damon pulled the sword free and turned, preparing to charge across the room. Propelling himself forward to help Elizabeth, Darcy reached the point of contact first, and the colonel automatically released the metal, sending it turning end over end.
The twang of the silver as it sliced the air mixed sharply with Elizabeth’s screams and Damon’s fight for breath. Darcy paused, focusing all his energy into one movement. Growing up, he and Damon had fought local bullies in tandem; and without a doubt,
Lydia Bennet slumped forward, clinging to her older sister as they both collapsed to the floor, Lydia lying face down in Elizabeth’s lap.With the last of his strength, Darcy pulled the sword free as Elizabeth rolled Lydia to her back.
“Lyddie.” Elizabeth caressed her sister’s cheek, but there was no response. Darcy had released her from hell, and Lydia rested at last.
“We need to get out of here,” the colonel said as he pulled Darcy to his feet.
“Elizabeth.” Darcy reached for her.
“I cannot leave her, Fitzwilliam…not like this.” Elizabeth’s eyes pleaded with him to do something.
Darcy turned to his cousin.“Can you carry her, Damon?”
Frustrated by the change in the dynamics and his own feelings of inadequacy, Damon unwillingly agreed. “I can carry her long enough to keep her body safe. I will come back for her later.”The colonel hoisted Lydia Bennet’s limp body onto his shoulder as he led the way out the door.They left everything else in shambles, the quickly decaying body of the once-beautiful opera singer prostrate on the hardwood floor.
Making their way in the open again, Elizabeth hurried between the colonel’s steady footsteps, carrying the dangling limbs of her sister, and her husband’s faltering footfall. In retreat, they were slower than in their advance. At last, they reached the final field. The inn in sight on the horizon, Damon laid Lydia’s body under a cluster of trees, while Darcy also sat to rest.
Bent over in fatigue, Damon stated the obvious: “We look bad enough as it is. We cannot go waltzing in with a body slung over our shoulders.”
Darcy and Elizabeth took a close look at each other.All three of
“We will freshen up and come back for you.” Exhausted, Damon now leaned against a tree.
Elizabeth knelt beside her husband.“Will you be safe?”
“I have the sword, and a few minutes to rest will do me well.” Darcy touched her face. Like a man starving for what he could not have, he traced her lips with his fingertips.“You will hurry?”
“I will bring you clean clothes. Peter led Wickham on a merry chase, but we should still have time to get you to the inn.” Elizabeth’s eyes searched his face, needing to convey her undying love. “Not long, Fitzwilliam.”
“Damon,” Darcy said as he turned his attention to his cousin, “make arrangements to send Lydia’s body to Longbourn. It is the least we can do for her parents.”
“Certainly, Darcy.” He reached his hand down to help Elizabeth to her feet.“Come, Elizabeth, we must make haste.”
She kissed Darcy’s cheek before following the colonel across the field. She ran the few steps it took to catch up with him. Impulsively, Elizabeth’s hand touched his arm. “Thank you, Damon, for everything—for Fitzwilliam’s life, for my life, and for my sister’s peace.”
He chose not to look at her, the domestic scene of the past few minutes too raw for his sensitivity.“Your husband saved you, Elizabeth, not I.”
“With your weapon and your help,” she insisted. However, they continued their torrid pace because he wanted to put distance between himself and his mixed feelings. Although she had to take two steps to every one of his, Elizabeth did not falter. She knew the source of his frustration and would voice what neither of them had said before.“Damon,” Elizabeth begged,“please do not do this.You knew my marriage to Fitzwilliam was not one of convenience when we met again on the London Road. I cannot lose you in my not be the cause of a rift between you and Fitzwilliam.”
Elizabeth’s words shook him; Damon knew his behavior to be out of bounds. It was not like him to act so impulsively. He did not respond; he did not want to recognize the truth of her words.Yet he did slow his pace, letting her know—in the only way a man of honor could—that he would deal with her heartfelt sentiments. Just before they crossed the stile leading to the inn’s road and courtyard, he caught her hand. “Let me help you,” he said as he lifted Elizabeth over the opening. Setting her down gently in front of him, Damon murmured, “It will all be well, Elizabeth; Fitzwilliam is my best friend.”
“Thank you, Damon.” Elizabeth looked away. Too much was happening for her sensibilities. She could not deny her dependence on her husband’s cousin.Without him, Darcy’s life would still be in danger. For his efforts, she was eternally grateful; but Darcy was her sun and her stars.
The rest of the way, they did not speak.When they reached the inn, always the perfect gentleman, Damon blocked the view of bystanders, sending Elizabeth hurrying to her room before he casually followed.
Twenty minutes later, Damon tapped lightly at Elizabeth’s door. “I am off to make arrangements,” he said as she opened the door. He looked presentable once more. “I will meet you and Darcy in the fields. Make haste. Peter just rode back into the courtyard. Wickham will be going home.”
Elizabeth nodded and grabbed a shirt and overcoat from among Darcy’s things. She also took a flask of water, afraid to give him anything else for the moment.“I am going out the back of the inn. Should I take Trident?”