I spun around to face the voice. It was impossible to see through the crowd, but it seemed to be coming from the direction of the churchyard. People started to scream and cry. My fingers tightened around Heathcliff’s arm and Oscar’s harness, and urged them forward. We had to know what was going on.
“Mina Wilde, you get back here,” Mum yelled after me. I ignored her. We pushed through the crowd as people scrambled toward the shops for cover. When I got close enough to see what was going on, I gasped.
In the middle of the cemetery, someone had stacked a small pile of items. I recognized some of the signs advertising the festival, several of Mum’s Vampire Vanishing Kits and…the rare occult books I’d sold earlier today. I’d been wrong about the spotty kid – he wasn’t a double agent, he just really missed his dog. The Gandalf-wannabe had betrayed us all. But that wasn’t the worst of it.
Tied to a stake on top of the pile was the new vicar, Reverend Mosley. At least, I assumed he was the new vicar because he wore vestments and I hadn’t seen him before. He was quite handsome, with vivid blue eyes and long, pale hair that curled below his ears.
But wait a second, if this is the real Reverend Mosley, then did that mean Jenna wasn’t meeting Dracula for cemetery sexy-times?
“Somebody help me,” he cried, struggling against his bonds. “These crazy women tied me up and they want to—”
“The only person who can help you now is Jesus.” Dorothy Ingram stepped forward. “You’ve been caught red-handed cavorting on sanctified ground. Now, everyone please, turn away from that blasphemous symbol of pagan ideology and feast your eyes on God’s true wrath. Starting with Argleton’s peddler of profane and Satanic literature, Mina Wilde.”
Dorothy lowered something in her hand and pointed it directly at me. It was only when Heathcliff threw himself in front of me that I realized it was a gun.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Step out of the way, gypsy.” Dorothy Ingram waved the gun at Heathcliff. “I’m perfectly happy to put a bullet through your chest to save this village from eternal damnation.”
“No one needs to shoot anyone,” I cried out. “Dorothy, can’t you see this is ridiculous? You’re talking about murdering people. I don’t think your god would want you to do that.”
“Yes, come now, dear.” Mrs. Ellis shuffled forward. “This festival is just a bit of harmless fun. I think what you need is a nice cup of tea.”
“Please, Dorothy, darling.” Cynthia was inching along the cemetery fence toward Dorothy. ”This isn’t the way—”
Dorothy spun around, pointing the gun at Cynthia. My hand flew to my mouth. Everyone gasped.
“You…you blasphemers,” Dorothy spat. “All this started with your little banned book club. And now you’ve added Satan worship and witchcraft right here in the middle of our village. Well, we need to clean up this town, starting by burning all the objectionable material.” She kicked her pile of books, and a couple of volumes tumbled across the grass.
“That’s my Peter Jordanson book.” Socrates hopped up and down. “And my Nietzsche. These are great thinkers. Some might even call them students of my own teachings.”
“These so-called philosophers reject the very god who watches over us all. These books are a corrupting influence and must be destroyed to purify our thoughts.” Dorothy advanced on Socrates. I glanced around.Where are the police?
“This is just like the Assembly of Athens. You’re making up nonsense claims of impiety and corrupting the youth to hide the fact you can’t handle your own beliefs being questioned. And I thought I left such ignorance behind me.” Socrates folded his arms. “What’s next, you’ll drown us all in a hemlock bath?”
“Socrates,pleasedon’t provoke her,” I pleaded.
“Who are you, anyway? You’re another of Heathcliff Earnshaw’s relatives. Well, we don’t want your sort around here anymore.” Dorothy spun back to face Cynthia. “First, I’ll sacrifice the rot – this impure priest and the Spirit Seekers Society – then I’ll run every person associated with Nevermore Bookshop right out of town!”
There was a clicking noise as Dorothy slid the safety off the gun. I closed my eyes as Heathcliff barreled forward, but I knew he was too far away to stop that bullet from tearing through Cynthia.By Isis, please, someone do something.
“I’m afraid you won’t be doing that.”
Thank you, goddess.
My eyes flew open. I expected to see Inspector Hayes arresting Dorothy. Instead, a hunched and unsightly figure stepped out of the cemetery trees to advance menacingly on her, a wide-brimmed straw hat pulled low.
Grey Lachlan.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dorothy gasped, her hand wavering as she took in the sight of him.
I didn’t blame her for her shock. I’d seen Grey just the other day, but that had been in the gloom of Mrs. Ellis’ old flat. in broad daylight, he looked like complete shit. The skin of his cheeks hung in tatters, and his eyes and lips were rimmed with red. He shuffled forward with an almost insect-like gait, and even from here I could smell an unpleasant odor wafting from him – an odor of death and decay.
“Grey?” Cynthia cried. “Help me.”
Dorothy must’ve decided someone so hideous as Grey couldn’t be a threat, because she continued to point the gun at Cynthia. “No one can stop me doing what I came here to do. I have the Lord on my side.”
