Read Online Divine Madness by Melanie Jackson - Free Book Online
Authors: Melanie Jackson
Tags: Fiction
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burst out of the mask of bristling quills.Horns glittered on its bull-sized head. A long black tongue unrolled, flicking in her direction. She thought to herself that this impossible thing had to be a hallucination.
Then it looked into her eyes and smiled.
Revulsion rolled through her body, freeing her limbs. She turned and fled back toward the door where she had boarded, intent on nothing except escape. She had seen ghosts, and felt the final trembling shivers of malevolent magic worked in a desecrated graveyard that had been looted by Dippel, but never experienced anything like this.
Demon. The word popped into her head. Then: Saint Germain. Was this a rejected suitor’s revenge? He was certainly egotistical enough to want her dead.
The stench warned her first. She stopped so suddenly that her legs nearly slid out from under her a second time. As it was, she still nearly ran into the thing—or another thing that looked just like the first one—that stepped into the corridor from the opposite end of the car, its ape-like arms spread wide. Taloned hands with too many fingers reached for her. Its head slashed from side to side as though demonstrating how it would gut her with its horns when it had her pinned to the floor.
With a scream that died before it escaped, strangled in her throat by terror, Ninon thrust open the first door she backed into and tumbled into the empty compartment, slamming the door with all her fear-induced strength. The small window cracked and glass tinkled behind the curtain.
No lock. Not that any man-made device would stop the infernal thing, especially not if it was a thing of the mind.
Hail Mary, full of grace—blessed is she among women—
The train was running fast now, but Ninon didn’t care. All that mattered was escape and finishing her frantic prayer.
She rolled to her feet and lunged at the window, tearing off her thick coat. Using all her strength she wrenchedopen the frozen sash. Behind her, the door was flung wide and something cold and loathsome began to pour into the room.
Not wasting another instant, even to look back at what stalked her, Ninon threw herself off of the train, legs kicking violently as she propelled her weight over the fulcrum of the windowsill. She prayed that there was not another train approaching on the opposite tracks where her body landed, and began to tumble with a distressing cracking sound that meant bones were breaking as well as corset stays.
The somersault finally ended. Snow swirled around her as she fought for a first painful breath.
No train . Merci, bon Dieu! Though, even if there had been, terror would have still forced her from the window. An iron horse did not scare her as badly as that creature did.
She rolled onto her back, unable to breathe smoothly through the pain in her ribs, and watched as the locomotive disappeared. She couldn’t be sure, but it seemed to her that there was something impossibly huge and dark bulging out of the window she had just exited. Was it flesh, or was it phantom? Probably it didn’t matter. If luck favored her, the demons would return to their summoner and demand he provide them with his own life as payment for their loss. She’d never been that lucky, though. He’d buy his way out somehow. The best she could reasonably hope for was that Saint Germain would be so inconvenienced by the monsters’ demands that he would not call for these evil things again.
Damn! They’d found her once more, the Dark Man and his son. She had to prepare.
She exhaled painfully and rolled to her knees, gathering her torn skirts with her left arm because her right was broken.
Men! Even the brightest of them were still terrified bywomen who could think, and these two—cowardly bastards! Eventually something would have to be done about them. If only she knew what. How did one kill what would not die?
C HAPTER F IVE
Ninon felt the weight of every assessing male stare as she strolled into the cantina. The jukebox in the
Then it looked into her eyes and smiled.
Revulsion rolled through her body, freeing her limbs. She turned and fled back toward the door where she had boarded, intent on nothing except escape. She had seen ghosts, and felt the final trembling shivers of malevolent magic worked in a desecrated graveyard that had been looted by Dippel, but never experienced anything like this.
Demon. The word popped into her head. Then: Saint Germain. Was this a rejected suitor’s revenge? He was certainly egotistical enough to want her dead.
The stench warned her first. She stopped so suddenly that her legs nearly slid out from under her a second time. As it was, she still nearly ran into the thing—or another thing that looked just like the first one—that stepped into the corridor from the opposite end of the car, its ape-like arms spread wide. Taloned hands with too many fingers reached for her. Its head slashed from side to side as though demonstrating how it would gut her with its horns when it had her pinned to the floor.
With a scream that died before it escaped, strangled in her throat by terror, Ninon thrust open the first door she backed into and tumbled into the empty compartment, slamming the door with all her fear-induced strength. The small window cracked and glass tinkled behind the curtain.
No lock. Not that any man-made device would stop the infernal thing, especially not if it was a thing of the mind.
Hail Mary, full of grace—blessed is she among women—
The train was running fast now, but Ninon didn’t care. All that mattered was escape and finishing her frantic prayer.
She rolled to her feet and lunged at the window, tearing off her thick coat. Using all her strength she wrenchedopen the frozen sash. Behind her, the door was flung wide and something cold and loathsome began to pour into the room.
Not wasting another instant, even to look back at what stalked her, Ninon threw herself off of the train, legs kicking violently as she propelled her weight over the fulcrum of the windowsill. She prayed that there was not another train approaching on the opposite tracks where her body landed, and began to tumble with a distressing cracking sound that meant bones were breaking as well as corset stays.
The somersault finally ended. Snow swirled around her as she fought for a first painful breath.
No train . Merci, bon Dieu! Though, even if there had been, terror would have still forced her from the window. An iron horse did not scare her as badly as that creature did.
She rolled onto her back, unable to breathe smoothly through the pain in her ribs, and watched as the locomotive disappeared. She couldn’t be sure, but it seemed to her that there was something impossibly huge and dark bulging out of the window she had just exited. Was it flesh, or was it phantom? Probably it didn’t matter. If luck favored her, the demons would return to their summoner and demand he provide them with his own life as payment for their loss. She’d never been that lucky, though. He’d buy his way out somehow. The best she could reasonably hope for was that Saint Germain would be so inconvenienced by the monsters’ demands that he would not call for these evil things again.
Damn! They’d found her once more, the Dark Man and his son. She had to prepare.
She exhaled painfully and rolled to her knees, gathering her torn skirts with her left arm because her right was broken.
Men! Even the brightest of them were still terrified bywomen who could think, and these two—cowardly bastards! Eventually something would have to be done about them. If only she knew what. How did one kill what would not die?
C HAPTER F IVE
Ninon felt the weight of every assessing male stare as she strolled into the cantina. The jukebox in the
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