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Authors: Laurel O'Donnell
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room.
A bright fire lit the hearth at the far end, and deep patches of
shadows spotted the walls.
Damien smiled grimly. Darkness was his
friend. Darkness always hid him. He slid into the room unnoticed by
the two women near the fire. One stoked the flames, adding wood to
the fire. The other stirred a kettle above the burning, crackling
wood, humming softly to herself.
Another doorway nearby was open, giving
Damien a glimpse of stairs leading down. Damien walked silently
toward the open doorway keeping himself safely hidden within the
flickering shadows of darkness. He reached the entryway.
The woman attending the kettle suddenly
stopped humming.
Damien cast a glance over his shoulder, but
the women were still busy near the hearth, neither one looking in
his direction. Silence trailed him as he descended the curved
stairway. He took each step soundlessly, moving with fluid
grace.
A shadow shifted in front of the light from a
torch at the bottom of the stairs. Someone was coming up the
stairs.
Damien’s hand moved to his sword handle.
A large man rounded the curved staircase. He
bridled at seeing Damien, stepping back, his hand moving to the
dagger in his belt. He sighed and a small grin formed across his
lips. “Beggin’ yer pardon,” the large man said.
It was hard to see the man in the darkness,
but the torchlight glinted off his bald head. He was half a head
taller than Damien. Despite Damien’s limited view of him, there was
something about the man that set his nerves on edge. Something very
familiar. “Where is Marie?” Damien wondered.
“She’s down there,” the man answered, jerking
a thumb down the stairway.
Damien hesitated a moment longer, his fingers
rubbing the hilt of his weapon.
The man smiled. He was missing two front
teeth.
Tingles shot across Damien’s shoulders. God’s
blood, he thought. I know this man. But from where? As the man
moved by, the smell of ale and vomit wafted from him. The stench
set off alarms inside Damien. Cautiously, he watched the man
continue up the stairs until he disappeared into the kitchen. Only
then did Damien guardedly move down to the bottom of the stairs.
“Marie?” he called.
There was no answer.
Damien stepped into the room. Crates filled
with potatoes and bags of spices were stacked against one wall,
some ten high. He did not see anyone. Had the man lied? And if so,
why?
Damien walked to the back of the room. It was
empty. Marie was not there. He turned around…
…and saw why Marie had not answered.
She lay on the floor, her body hidden by a
row of crates, her head twisted grotesquely to the side, her eyes
wide and vacant.
Chapter Nine
L ight burned
against Aurora’s inner eyelids, bringing her back to consciousness.
She opened her eyes slightly. A small face with a crooked nose
leaned into her blurry vision, bright light splashing across the
back of his head and his shoulders. His lips moved, but her muddled
mind could not understand his words. Panic began to fester inside
her.
Another face appeared. A handsome face. A
familiar face. A face she knew to be safe and protecting. The panic
washed away, replaced with comforting warmth. She relaxed with a
sigh. Damien. His dark eyes looked at her with heated intensity, a
troubled frown marring his brow. She wanted to touch him, to soothe
his worry. It took all her strength to lift her hand and brush it
across his forehead, as if a simple swipe of her fingertips could
erase his concern. Her lips turned up at the corners.
Then, blackness descended like night,
blanketing her.
***
A ghostly tingling danced across Damien’s
forehead where Aurora’s fingertips had moved. It was an odd
feeling, one he had never experienced before, as if she were still
touching him even though it was hours later. He had to admit he did
not want the feeling to fade.
The chill of the shadows he stood in brought
him back to reality. His place was in the dark, separated from the
rest of the world, not
A bright fire lit the hearth at the far end, and deep patches of
shadows spotted the walls.
Damien smiled grimly. Darkness was his
friend. Darkness always hid him. He slid into the room unnoticed by
the two women near the fire. One stoked the flames, adding wood to
the fire. The other stirred a kettle above the burning, crackling
wood, humming softly to herself.
Another doorway nearby was open, giving
Damien a glimpse of stairs leading down. Damien walked silently
toward the open doorway keeping himself safely hidden within the
flickering shadows of darkness. He reached the entryway.
The woman attending the kettle suddenly
stopped humming.
Damien cast a glance over his shoulder, but
the women were still busy near the hearth, neither one looking in
his direction. Silence trailed him as he descended the curved
stairway. He took each step soundlessly, moving with fluid
grace.
A shadow shifted in front of the light from a
torch at the bottom of the stairs. Someone was coming up the
stairs.
Damien’s hand moved to his sword handle.
A large man rounded the curved staircase. He
bridled at seeing Damien, stepping back, his hand moving to the
dagger in his belt. He sighed and a small grin formed across his
lips. “Beggin’ yer pardon,” the large man said.
It was hard to see the man in the darkness,
but the torchlight glinted off his bald head. He was half a head
taller than Damien. Despite Damien’s limited view of him, there was
something about the man that set his nerves on edge. Something very
familiar. “Where is Marie?” Damien wondered.
“She’s down there,” the man answered, jerking
a thumb down the stairway.
Damien hesitated a moment longer, his fingers
rubbing the hilt of his weapon.
The man smiled. He was missing two front
teeth.
Tingles shot across Damien’s shoulders. God’s
blood, he thought. I know this man. But from where? As the man
moved by, the smell of ale and vomit wafted from him. The stench
set off alarms inside Damien. Cautiously, he watched the man
continue up the stairs until he disappeared into the kitchen. Only
then did Damien guardedly move down to the bottom of the stairs.
“Marie?” he called.
There was no answer.
Damien stepped into the room. Crates filled
with potatoes and bags of spices were stacked against one wall,
some ten high. He did not see anyone. Had the man lied? And if so,
why?
Damien walked to the back of the room. It was
empty. Marie was not there. He turned around…
…and saw why Marie had not answered.
She lay on the floor, her body hidden by a
row of crates, her head twisted grotesquely to the side, her eyes
wide and vacant.
Chapter Nine
L ight burned
against Aurora’s inner eyelids, bringing her back to consciousness.
She opened her eyes slightly. A small face with a crooked nose
leaned into her blurry vision, bright light splashing across the
back of his head and his shoulders. His lips moved, but her muddled
mind could not understand his words. Panic began to fester inside
her.
Another face appeared. A handsome face. A
familiar face. A face she knew to be safe and protecting. The panic
washed away, replaced with comforting warmth. She relaxed with a
sigh. Damien. His dark eyes looked at her with heated intensity, a
troubled frown marring his brow. She wanted to touch him, to soothe
his worry. It took all her strength to lift her hand and brush it
across his forehead, as if a simple swipe of her fingertips could
erase his concern. Her lips turned up at the corners.
Then, blackness descended like night,
blanketing her.
***
A ghostly tingling danced across Damien’s
forehead where Aurora’s fingertips had moved. It was an odd
feeling, one he had never experienced before, as if she were still
touching him even though it was hours later. He had to admit he did
not want the feeling to fade.
The chill of the shadows he stood in brought
him back to reality. His place was in the dark, separated from the
rest of the world, not
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