looked bored.
By the time Nicolas came in from being out in the stable with Delano, they had a small army of finished bullets lined up. He sighed, looking around the room. Belle dipped her thin brush into the inky paint. “How is Delano?”
Nicolas shrugged. “Haggard.”
“I’m sure.” She paused before painting the first stroke. “And Honor?”
“Holding up well.” Sitting next to Jean, Nicolas rubbed his hands over his face, scrunching up the skin. “No sign of infection.”
“Well good. That is truly a relief—”
“Belle,” Andre cut in, turning rapidly in his chair.
He flipped a switch on the vox. The transmissions left Andre’s head speakers and was broadcast to the room.
“LeClair House. LeClair House,” Henri was hurriedly saying. Belle leapt from her seat at the sound of gunfire and growls. “A pack…Too many.” His breathing was labored. Franck shouted in the background. Henri fired his guns between words. “LeClair House, are you there?”
The transmission stopped and Belle dashed across the room, smacking a button on the vox. “Père? Père?!”
“Belle? This is…” The signal wavered, only transmitting fragments.
Belle pressed the button again. “Say again?”
She let the button go. Static.
Andre frantically twisted the knobs and dials. “They must be right at the edge of this thing’s reaching capabilities.”
Belle’s heart raced. She could hardly stand it as she listened intently to the white noise. When the signal came back, they managed to catch one word.
“Hurry—” A loud scream, the sound of a violent death, and the transmission went out again.
There was the slightest of pauses, a moment to let the horror of it sink in, then Belle was headed for the armory with her men just steps behind. They grabbed their shooting irons and swords, strapping them on quickly and snatching communication chips from the cabinet. She unpinned the nice, cobalt top hat she’d picked to see Henri off with and tossed it on one of the wall hooks. Tying her cloak at the base of her neck, Belle was the first to reach the front door. Thankfully, the house was above ground now and she didn’t have to waste time with the elevator.
Lifting her skirts, Belle raced across the snow-covered lawn and into the barn. With the Hunters close behind, she converged on her stall and began saddling her horse. Delano came out of Honor’s stall at the sound of their commotion. “What’s going on?”
“Another pack,” Belle said, hefting the saddle onto Charming’s back. “Père’s in trouble.”
Delano stumbled over his shock and looked back at his horse, as though to confirm he was in no shape to be ridden. “What can I do?”
“You’re staying behind to guard the border.” Belle led the saddled Charming out of his stall, just as Friar Clemens reached the barn. “Friar, ride into town and fetch the doc. We’ll need him.”
Delano closed up Honor’s stall and ran from the barn, likely to grab weapons. Friar Clemens started saddling one of the cart horses. The other Hunters emerged from their stalls as Belle was heading out the door. It was the fastest they’d ever readied. In the sunlight, they each mounted.
Belle cued Charming into a jog, gradually speeding him up as they neared the border. There was no time to stand on formality—no time to stop and pray. So Belle did it on the fly. “Oh Holy Angel, attendant of our wretched souls and afflicted life…”
“…forsake us not.” The Hunters joined in, riding at a close gallop. They passed into the woods, finishing the creed as they followed the path of Henri’s hunting party.
Belle shouted over her shoulder, “Watch for hounds coming from the sides. Let your horses follow me.”
There were plenty of tracks to guide her from both hoof and cart. But it wasn’t necessary. Henri’s party was to stick to the main gas-lit path until they reached its farthermost point and headed into the unknown.
After awhile, Belle slowed
By the time Nicolas came in from being out in the stable with Delano, they had a small army of finished bullets lined up. He sighed, looking around the room. Belle dipped her thin brush into the inky paint. “How is Delano?”
Nicolas shrugged. “Haggard.”
“I’m sure.” She paused before painting the first stroke. “And Honor?”
“Holding up well.” Sitting next to Jean, Nicolas rubbed his hands over his face, scrunching up the skin. “No sign of infection.”
“Well good. That is truly a relief—”
“Belle,” Andre cut in, turning rapidly in his chair.
He flipped a switch on the vox. The transmissions left Andre’s head speakers and was broadcast to the room.
“LeClair House. LeClair House,” Henri was hurriedly saying. Belle leapt from her seat at the sound of gunfire and growls. “A pack…Too many.” His breathing was labored. Franck shouted in the background. Henri fired his guns between words. “LeClair House, are you there?”
The transmission stopped and Belle dashed across the room, smacking a button on the vox. “Père? Père?!”
“Belle? This is…” The signal wavered, only transmitting fragments.
Belle pressed the button again. “Say again?”
She let the button go. Static.
Andre frantically twisted the knobs and dials. “They must be right at the edge of this thing’s reaching capabilities.”
Belle’s heart raced. She could hardly stand it as she listened intently to the white noise. When the signal came back, they managed to catch one word.
“Hurry—” A loud scream, the sound of a violent death, and the transmission went out again.
There was the slightest of pauses, a moment to let the horror of it sink in, then Belle was headed for the armory with her men just steps behind. They grabbed their shooting irons and swords, strapping them on quickly and snatching communication chips from the cabinet. She unpinned the nice, cobalt top hat she’d picked to see Henri off with and tossed it on one of the wall hooks. Tying her cloak at the base of her neck, Belle was the first to reach the front door. Thankfully, the house was above ground now and she didn’t have to waste time with the elevator.
Lifting her skirts, Belle raced across the snow-covered lawn and into the barn. With the Hunters close behind, she converged on her stall and began saddling her horse. Delano came out of Honor’s stall at the sound of their commotion. “What’s going on?”
“Another pack,” Belle said, hefting the saddle onto Charming’s back. “Père’s in trouble.”
Delano stumbled over his shock and looked back at his horse, as though to confirm he was in no shape to be ridden. “What can I do?”
“You’re staying behind to guard the border.” Belle led the saddled Charming out of his stall, just as Friar Clemens reached the barn. “Friar, ride into town and fetch the doc. We’ll need him.”
Delano closed up Honor’s stall and ran from the barn, likely to grab weapons. Friar Clemens started saddling one of the cart horses. The other Hunters emerged from their stalls as Belle was heading out the door. It was the fastest they’d ever readied. In the sunlight, they each mounted.
Belle cued Charming into a jog, gradually speeding him up as they neared the border. There was no time to stand on formality—no time to stop and pray. So Belle did it on the fly. “Oh Holy Angel, attendant of our wretched souls and afflicted life…”
“…forsake us not.” The Hunters joined in, riding at a close gallop. They passed into the woods, finishing the creed as they followed the path of Henri’s hunting party.
Belle shouted over her shoulder, “Watch for hounds coming from the sides. Let your horses follow me.”
There were plenty of tracks to guide her from both hoof and cart. But it wasn’t necessary. Henri’s party was to stick to the main gas-lit path until they reached its farthermost point and headed into the unknown.
After awhile, Belle slowed
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