“Kill the beast!” they screamed in chilling unison.
They were almost through the door, the splitters widening with every swing bashed at the wood.
I grabbed Silas, searching for any way to go.
The grounds would be flooded with villagers out for blood. The ghosts erratically screamed, shifting from this realm to the next. Some of the ghost forms barely held on before disappearing into the crumbling walls altogether. If the villagers would have made their way inside, what was stopping them from making their way to the west wing, to the shadows and to the ghost of Cecilia, who’d possibly rip them in two?
I spun around only to be caged by Silas’s protective arms, creating a barrier between me and the shadow at the garden entrance door. Mud-coated black trousers and his long coat shielded him from the worst of the winter cold. Hair skewed from the blast of wind as the snow picked up with wild eyes staring from behind the rear sight post of a rifle.
William cocked the gun back, the barrel aimed at Silas’s chest. “Get your hands off her, demon!”
Thirty
“Stay behind me,” Silas whispered to me.
The beating of the door drummed louder, threatening to burst from the hinges. We were trapped between William’s gun and the mob, with our only exit being the balcony.
Silas’s body towered over mine, a shield from William’s cold, hard gaze.
“Don’t make me say it again, beast,” William growled.
“When I say run, run to the balcony,” Silas commanded. “I’ll be right behind you.”
I nodded, aware of the cries for blood. Aware of too many things as the world threatened to plunge further.
“Run!”
Gunfirerang out, and I scurried to the ledge of the balcony. Footsteps quickly shuffled behind me before sweeping arms took hold of my waist and dropped us ten feet down into the snow-laden earth. I tumbled out of reach, groaning as pain fired up my limbs from the impact. To my right, Silas laid still, bleeding profusely from his chest.
I scurried to his side. “Oh my gods, Silas!” I shook him, trying to stop the bleeding—anything.
Silas moaned, taking his hand into the hole and extracting the bullet. His chest heaved as the wound slowly tried to heal. “I’m fine. We must move.”
Another shot rang out into the night.
Silas jumped and covered me with his body as it made an impact. “Argh!”
William stood atop of the balcony, the rifle barrel pointed at us dead center.
“Can you walk?” I asked, draping him over my shoulders and mustering up the strength to make it through the night.
Silas nodded, wrapping his arms around me. “Hold on!” As another shot rang out, we disappeared into the garden.
Part of the way into the maze, Silas came to an abrupt stop, coughing up black blood and crashing into the statue. He collapsed, chest heaving as the wounds showed no signs of healing.
“What the hell were in those bullets?” he croaked out.
I took a hold of his hand, watching as his breathing became more erratic. “Silas, you need blood.” I shoved my hair aside and ripped off the bandages to days’ old wounds.
“I can’t, Valeria. It would be more dangerous now than ever. They will kill both of us, and they are armed to the teeth,” Silas grunted as he shoved his finger into his abdomen and extracted another bullet.
The silver bullet was intricately engraved, coated in white ash within the grooves, similar to the ash that had been given to me sometime ago.
Silas tossed it aside and sat up against the overturned bench. “It won’t be long before they find us.”
The lone gravestone stood, watching this play out all yet again with its carving ofVi et animoetched into its surface, mocking us.
I once again urged Silas. “Drink. You are right. We don’t have much time. But what I do know is that they are out to kill you—not me. Drink and hide until this can pass.”
