The ghost gazed at her warily, floating nearer. “Don’t be taken in, Sophia. Oblis is clever, and will stop at nothing to torment us all.”
She held the plate in one hand and opened the door with the other, casting a withering glance at Byron. “I am no fool, sir.”
“It was never my intention to imply otherwise,” the ghost replied.
Sophia did not favor him with any further comment. She entered the nursery and closed the door softly behind her. Once inside, she took a breath to calm herself and steadied the dinner plate in both hands. The news was too wonderful to allow Byron to spoil it.
“Good evening,” she said.
Henry Swift sat in the chair, chains crisscrossing his body, trapping him there. He turned toward her, and she braced herself for the venomous glare of the demon.
Instead, she was greeted with the soft, kindly, sorrowful gaze of a man who had turned old before his time.
“Sophia? Oh, my dear, it’s always so nice to see you,” Henry Swift said.
With a sigh of relief, she approached. “I’ve brought you dinner, Henry.”
“Soon it shall be ‘Father,’ ” he said.
She beamed at him, full of joy. “That will be so wonderful.”
Sophia sat in a second chair, facing him, and set the plate on her lap. It seemed demeaning to feed the man, but there was no other way. And she really did not mind. When she lifted the fork to give him a bite, she found Henry looking at her quizzically.
“What is it, Sophia, dear? You are positively abuzz. You’ve had some good news, I take it.”
Her excitement bubbled up into a small laugh. “Oh, excellent news, Henry. Truly.”
“Well, do share.”
Her mouth opened, but for a moment no words came. She hesitated, studying him closely. Then Sophia waved away any doubt. Byron’s warnings were insulting; she wasn’t a fool.
This man had been so kind to her.
“It’s to be tonight, Henry. I don’t know if there’s really a demon within you. I’ve never been sure of that. But if there is, and all goes well, tonight you will be rid of that demon forever. And if not, well, then, your children will finally recognize that. Either way, you will be free of your chains.”
The man was speechless. Joy lit his eyes and he shook his head, taking a deep, shuddering breath.
“Do you really think so?” he said at last.
“Tamara seems confident.”
Henry smiled cautiously. “Oh, Sophia. I don’t dare hope.”
Sophia patted his hand. “I shall do all of the hoping for both of us. Now here, have a bite to eat.”
She brought the fork to his mouth and he chewed a small bit of veal. After he had swallowed, he took another deep breath.
“Thank you, my dear,” Henry said. “You’ve no idea how grateful I am for your company.”
THE NIGHT WAS COOL but the air in the carriage felt warm and stifling. William had the curtain pulled back and he gazed out of the window at the trees and fields in Highgate as Farris guided them homeward. The clop of the horses’ hooves was a rhythmic comfort to him, lulling him into a kind of trance.
William scowled and let the curtain fall back into place.
Enough, he thought. Let the past be past.
Ramsey had remained silent under the questioning of the authorities. Only when William had at last gone to see him in jail did he reveal the motive for his crimes. There was bitterness and jealousy, of course. He envied the life William led.
If only Ramsey had known the truth, William was sure the man would not have envied him at all. But he felt as if his lot in life was somehow diminished, and that William did not appreciate his friendship or his service. It was the furthest thing from the truth, but there was no arguing with the man’s perceptions.
William had felt certain all along there was more to it than that. And sure enough, face to face with William, Harold had crumbled into tears and confessed that his sister was an opium addict, and that she and her new baby required medical care, and he had been too ashamed of their circumstances to come directly to William and ask for help. Bitterness and desperation had corrupted his heart.
William had thus decided that he would not press charges against the man. It was likely he would be set free, if Swift’s did not pursue the case, and he had no intention of doing so.
Ramsey had been grateful, but William had made it clear that the man was never to cross his path nor seek him out. Not ever.
Let the past be past.
Outside, Farris called gently to the horses and the carriage slowed. William felt them turn and glanced out the window again. They were on Peacock Lane, heading up toward home. In the distance, at the top of the hill, he could see lights burning in the house.
His heart lightened. Sophia would be waiting for him. Tamara would be there as well. All of the preparations for the exorcism had been made. After dinner, they would proceed. He tried to suppress the hope that rose in him, and was only partly successful.
Soon Farris called to the horses again, and the clip-clop of their hooves slowed. The carriage came to a halt.
William did not wait for Farris to open his door. He popped it open and dropped to the ground before the man had even begun to climb down from the high seat. Whip in hand, Farris glanced down at him.
“The dinner bell’s ringing, I suspect,” Farris said pleasantly.
“Indeed. Thank you, my friend.”
Farris nodded once. He was stout of build and equally stout of heart. William did not know what they would do without him. The little sprite Serena sat on his shoulder and whispered something into his ear. Something naughty, given the expression on Farris’s face. For a creature of magic, wings humming and glittering at her back, Serena was a wanton little strumpet.
She had celebrated with Aine that first night, blissfully happy to have her best friend back, safe and sound. But, still stung by the way the fairy council of Stronghold had treated her, Serena had decided to return to London with Farris and the Protectors, though she promised Aine she would visit soon and invited Aine to come to see her at Ludlow House at her leisure.
William had not had the heart to protest.
“Good evening, then, Master William.”
“And to you, Farris. I’ll see you inside, shall I?”
“As soon as I’ve seen to the horses, sir.”
“Very good,” William replied.
As the carriage moved away, William went to the front door.
The lights inside were warm and welcoming. A breeze stirred and he thought he could smell the flowers from the garden all the way from the back of the house. How colorful the wedding was going to be.
He turned the knob and pushed open the door, smiling for the first time that day.
A terrible scream filled the house. It was a man’s voice, raw and terrified.
“What the devil?” William shouted.
Down the corridor to the right of the stairs he saw the young maid, Melinda, clap her hands over her ears and rush into the parlor as if to escape the sound. Behind her came Martha and Klaus, a chef only recently hired.
Another scream tore the air, and now William realized it was coming from above. He started for the stairs and then stopped, staring up, jaw hanging open, as his father stumbled down from the second-story landing.
“Leave me alone, do you hear?” the man shrieked. “My head, don’t you understand? It’s splitting open, my poor head. Feels like my brain’s going to spill out!”
With an elegant leap, almost like flying, Nigel came down the stairs behind him. The vampire alighted upon the second story landing in a predator’s crouch and turned with a snarl to stare at his prey: Henry Swift.
“Close your mouth, demon!” Nigel snarled. “Do you take us for fools?”
“Leave me be!” Henry wailed pitifully.
William felt his heart go cold. He stared at his father as the man held the banister, hurrying down the stairs as best he could.
“Oblis!” he cried, his voice echoing through the foyer. “I don’t know how you’ve gotten free, but— ”
“William!”
Tamara pushed past Martha and Klaus and shouted his name. William glanced at her as she rushed into the foyer, and then his sister froze, much as he had done. She stared at their father, or the demon who wore his form, and an expression of anguish distorted her features. Then it passed, and all that was left was hatred for the creature who had toyed with their hearts for so long.
“Nigel!” Tamara snapped. “How did this happen?”
They had the demon surrounded on three sides. Nigel came down the stairs slowly in pursuit of him.
“I don’t know,” the vampire said. “I heard his cries and came out after him, same as you.”
Henry reached the bottom of the steps. He moved weakly, stiffly, and when he glanced up his face was pale and drawn. There were dark circles beneath his damp eyes and he looked at William with such befuddlement that he could almost believe it was truly his father there, and not the demon Oblis.
“William,” Henry said. Then he glanced over at his daughter. “Oh, Tamara. What has become of me? Of this house?”
Tamara took a tentative step toward him. “Father?”
Holding his breath, heart racing, William stared at the man. “Can it be?” he whispered. “Truly?”
Henry touched one hand lightly to his forehead, thin hair unruly and dampened with sweat. “Oh, my children. I have one of my headaches. I feel as though I’ve had a terrible fever.” Mystified, he looked from son to daughter. “Have I been ill?”
“Father,” William said slowly, taking a step toward him. Tamara did the same. “You were in the nursery.”
“Careful, now!” Nigel warned as he reached the bottom of the stairs. “We’ve all been taken in before.”
“Father, is it you?” Tamara asked.
But Henry could only stare at William. “Yes. The nursery. What was I doing there, William? Someone has much to answer for. There were chains ”
“How did you get out?” Tamara demanded.
For a moment he seemed to search his memory. Then he smiled gently. “There was a girl. A pretty girl. Sophia, I believe she said. She set me free.”
William froze, staring at his father.
“Sophia ”
“The girl,” Nigel muttered.
“Oh, no,” Tamara said softly. “If this truly is Father, and the demon has left him, then where— ”
A voice came down from the landing above them. The voice of the demon.
“Not to worry, Tamara. I haven’t gone far.”
William stared at the ethereally beautiful figure of his fiancee where she stood along the balustrade of the second floor landing, gazing down at the foyer at him. Her lips moved, but it wasn’t Sophia’s voice that issued from her mouth.
It was a voice from Hell. The voice of Oblis.
“No,” Tamara whispered.
Nigel snarled as he turned and started up the stairs.
“Wait!” William shouted.
The vampire froze on the steps, glancing back at him. William and Tamara moved across the foyer and in a moment were side by side, staring up at Sophia, whose features were twisted into a mask of hatred.
“Why?” William asked. “All this time we’ve tried to draw you out of Father. Why now?”
“What is it?” Henry Swift muttered behind them. “What’s happened to the girl? What are you all talking about?”
William and Tamara ignored the frightened, demanding voice of their father.
“Ah, well, you have pretty little Sophia to thank for that,” Oblis said, sneering the words with her mouth. “She was so happy, you see, when she discovered that the sweet old man, her future father-in-law, who had been her only source of succor these past days, was to be freed at last from the grasp of the demon.”
Oblis laughed, his own voice mingling with Sophia’s, and the sound made William retch. He put a hand to his lips to keep back the bile that rose in his throat. The magical bonds that had held Oblis in place had been created to hold him physically, not to prevent the vapor demon from leaving the flesh of Henry Swift. So focused had they been on exorcising the demon, they’d never imagined he might depart of his own free will.
How simple it had been for Oblis to slip from one innocent and into another. Once out of Father’s body, he had freed Henry from his chains, orchestrating this hideous tableau.
William shook his head, hating himself for his foolishness. Not his Sophia. Wasn’t his father’s torment enough?
“She was so pleased to share the news,” Oblis continued. “And, well, I couldn’t very well sit and wait for you to drive me out, could I? That would be defeat. If, indeed, you have found a way to pry me away from the souls of your loved ones, then I must at last depart your company. But on my own terms. I won’t have it said that you bested me.”
That was the moment when William finally understood. Nothing they could do would reach Oblis in time. Tamara must have understood as well, because she uttered a small sound, a little breath of horror expelled from her lips.
“I depart in triumph,” the demon said, and his grin split the edges of Sophia’s mouth so that blood ran down her chin.
“No!” William cried. “Sophia, no!”
Nigel lunged, bounding up the steps.
William and Tamara raised their hands simultaneously and began to shout the words to a spell that would confine the demon, at least for a moment.
But they did not have a moment.
Sophia, driven by the demon within, threw herself over the balustrade, faster than the Protectors could act. The house was filled with screams as she plummeted to the floor of the foyer. In dreams, later, William would be unable to escape the image of Oblis, smiling at him with his beloved’s lips and eyes, as Sophia fell.
At the last moment, the demon twisted her head so that she would strike at the perfect angle.
Her neck broke with a crack like a whip.
WILLIAM RACED TO SOPHIA’S SIDE and fell to his knees, drawing her lifeless form into his lap. His tears dappled her face.
The demon rose from her body like mist on the moors, taking form as a vapor. Its bodiless mouth opened in eternal laughter, its eyes burned red in the air, and it floated up through the ceiling and was gone. The laughter seemed to echo through the house long after it had departed.
William thought the sound would linger there forever.