Page 45 of Wynter's Bite

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Justus snarled.

“H-how did you move so quickly?” Keene cried, clutching his broken hand.

Damn! Justus cursed inwardly and lied. “I’m an accomplished fencer.”

The woman called Bronson glared at Justus before turning to the doctor to examine his hand. “You foolish man. Now we’ll have to summon a bonesetter along with the constable.”

Justus decided that was their prompt to leave. “We’ll be going now.” He adjusted his grip on Bethany and slowly headed down the corridor. The guards shrank back, and Greeves suddenly remembered that he’d been sacked and scurried off in the opposite direction.

Keeping hold of the blunderbuss, he carried Bethany down the endless flights of stairs as fast as possible while still trying to appear human. One of the guards and a few servants lurked in the corners of the main floor, but they did not try to stop him as he took his precious love out the broken front door.

The gate squealed open after a swift kick to the rusting iron and as he crossed the threshold, Bethany looked up at the moon and laughed. “I’m free. I cannot believe it. Lord in heaven, please don’t let this be a dream.”

He paused to press a kiss to her forehead. “No dream, I promise. You will never have to go back to that place again.” He then carried her to the cluster of bushes where he’d hidden his pack. Still maintaining hold of Bethany with one arm, he slid the blunderbuss into the pack and then switched her to his other arm to get the straps over his shoulders. Then, cradling her with both arms at last, he sighed at the feel of her. “Hold onto me tightly. We’re going to run faster than we did the first time.”

She complied, clinging to his shoulders and wrapping her legs around his waist, making him bite back a groan of desire at her softness pressing against his groin.

When he took off, her breath hitched near his ear. They covered the ground in a blur of motion, dodging trees and boulders. Bethany trembled at the furious speed, but there was nothing to be done for it. They had to get as far away from Manchester as possible.

As if conjured by the thought, a shout echoed behind him, followed by the sound of pursuit at the same pace he ran. The Manchester vampires had spotted him.

But the border was only a few kilometers away. If he could elude them a little longer, they’d be in Cheshire and out of their reach. And hopefully there were no Cheshire vampires about. Silently praying to whatever deity favored damned souls like his, Justus mustered every ounce of strength his last feeding had given him, and quickened his stride.

The Manchester vampires drew closer, until Justus swore he could feel their breath on the back of his neck.

“He’s got a human!” one of them shouted.

“Hurry up then, before he gets away!”

Lungs heaving, Justus kept running, willing his body to move even faster. A tree branch whipped his cheek, slicing a burning gash, but still he pressed on. The road turning to Cheshire came into view and he focused on it like it was a beacon in the darkness.

Just as he sensed that one of the vampires was about to lunge for him, he crossed the border. The Manchester vampires cursed. According to Rochester’s spies, the Lord of Cheshire despised the Lord of Manchester and forbade any of his vampires from entering. Justus prayed that would continue to work to his advantage, but there was likely no hope that the Cheshire vampires would be any kinder to him. Thankfully, he didn’t sense any of them around.

Though his chest burned, Justus did not dare slow down. Eyes darting around for shelter, he continued his punishing dash even though the Manchester vampires had given up their chase. After four more miles, he saw piles of old stone ruins.

“Thank you, God,” he breathed. It was an old church razed in one of England’s countless wars. Which meant there would be a cellar, maybe a crypt.

Ducking under the crumbling arch, he searched until he found a stairwell at the far end of what used to be the south transept, almost completely buried in rubble.

“Bethany,” he whispered. “Can you stand a moment? I need to clear the way.”

She murmured, but didn’t stir. The drugs still held sway over her.

As gently as possible, Justus laid her on the floor and set to moving chunks of charred wood and broken marble out of the stairwell. When the path was clear, he lifted her and carried her down.

Even with his preternatural vision, the chamber below was almost too dark to see. Hopefully, that meant the sunlight would not penetrate. And to his further optimism, he did not detect the slightest scent of another vampire, or any living being, for that matter.

“Justus?” Bethany’s teeth chattered in his ear as she spoke. “It’s so dark in here. And so cold.”

Concern squeezed his heart. It had to be pitch black to her. Focusing his vision, he looked around until he saw the vague outline of a slab and what looked like catacombs. It was a crypt, thank heavens. He carried her to the slab and brushed off the dust, grateful that there weren’t any bones on the marble surface.

After he set her down, he rummaged through his pack and pulled out a blanket.

“Thank you,” Bethany whispered as he wrapped it around her shoulders.

“I’ll build a fire,” he said and searched for his matches. In the darkness he could make out shapes that he hoped were wooden boards. He could fetch some from above, but he didn’t want to leave her.

Matches secure, Justus gathered up all the scraps of wood in the crypt and built a fire at the base of the stone steps so the smoke would vent up and out. Others may smell it, but he’d deal with that then. Now his only concern was seeing to Bethany’s comfort.

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