Read Online The Rousing: A Celtic in the Blood Novella by Jess Raven, Paula Black - Free Book Online
Authors: Jess Raven, Paula Black
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about that cold body in the boat, with the smell of death and the sea on it, with its jugular torn out and its blood drained dry.
“Darcy, talk to me,” Liam pleaded.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A cry from the cliffs above stole the response from my lips. Shrill, hoarse and anguished, like the scream of a fox, the sound chilled my blood to ice-water.
Liam turned to see what had transfixed my eyes with terror. A female figure, clothed in grey and crowned by a halo of long, wind-blown hair, stood perched on an outcrop of rock. Her hands were curled into claws and her eyes, oh God, I knew those demonic eyes, and yet this woman definitely wasn’t Adriana. She was something altogether more dreadful. Hunched forward like a vulture, poised to swoop down on us at any moment, the corners of her mouth lifted in a macabre smile, revealing rows of sharp, pointed teeth.
I struggled to stifle the scream bubbling in my throat, and instinct had me backing away. One step, two, never taking my eyes off the cliff. She didn’t make a move, but then neither did Liam. I grabbed at the sleeve of his parka and tugged. We had time. We could dive in the boat and escape out to sea, assuming the creature with its sights trained on us couldn’t swim, or fly, or worse. Fear pulsed through my body, pounding in my throat until I thought it would choke me.
“Liam,” I whispered, “Liam, we have to get out of here.”
“You go, Darcy,” he said, without even turning to look at me. “I’m good right here.” His voice, calm as a slow breath, filled me with cold dread. The creature was doing something to him, influencing him, and before I could even react, he was striding forward, mounting the steps towards it.
“Liam,” I shouted. “Liam, don’t!”
I ran, grabbed onto the back of his coat and with all the strength I could muster, attempted to drag him back. But he was so much stronger than me. He shrugged me off him, and I tumbled backwards down the slippery stone steps.
I landed hard, pain bursting through my head as my skull cracked against a jagged edge of the rocks. Momentarily stunned, I was forced to watch as Liam reached for the creature’s outstretched hand and she pulled him into her. I saw his woollen hat fall to the ground as her blackened fingernails raked his curly hair, closing in a fist that jerked his head to one side, exposing his throat.
“No,” I cried, “please!”
But Liam was docile in her hands, even as her tongue shivered across those pointed fangs and she spread her lips on the pulse at his neck.
Driven by pure desperation, on hands and knees I crawled towards the steps, still reeling from the concussion of my fall. All I knew was that I had to get to Liam before he ended up like John-Joe in that boat. I couldn’t lose him too. He was all I had left. My vision blurred, but still I saw with crystal clarity the moment when her pointed fangs penetrated skin, bleeding crimson ribbons down his pale neck. His pliant body jerked as she sealed her lips to his pulse and sucked from him in long, greedy draws.
A cry of pure anguish breached my lips. Liam was dying and I was powerless to prevent it. “Let him live,” I begged her, “please, let him go.”
“Let him go.”
Confused, I heard my words repeated back at me, not an echo, but the grim authority of a male voice I recognised instantly.
“Let him go,” he said, louder this time. “It’s me you want, not him.”
Squinting up at the cliff top, the image of Jack Pembroke came into focus. Wild-eyed, shirtless and buffeted by the wind and the sea-spray, he looked larger than life. This was no Colin Firth coming from the pond, this was crazy Heathcliff on the moors.
“It’s me,” he called to the creature. “Jack Pembroke.”
At the sound of that name, she paused in her feeding and her black-veined eyes flipped up to pin him with a death-glare. Having drawn her attention away from Liam, he pressed the advantage.
“You came back from
“Darcy, talk to me,” Liam pleaded.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A cry from the cliffs above stole the response from my lips. Shrill, hoarse and anguished, like the scream of a fox, the sound chilled my blood to ice-water.
Liam turned to see what had transfixed my eyes with terror. A female figure, clothed in grey and crowned by a halo of long, wind-blown hair, stood perched on an outcrop of rock. Her hands were curled into claws and her eyes, oh God, I knew those demonic eyes, and yet this woman definitely wasn’t Adriana. She was something altogether more dreadful. Hunched forward like a vulture, poised to swoop down on us at any moment, the corners of her mouth lifted in a macabre smile, revealing rows of sharp, pointed teeth.
I struggled to stifle the scream bubbling in my throat, and instinct had me backing away. One step, two, never taking my eyes off the cliff. She didn’t make a move, but then neither did Liam. I grabbed at the sleeve of his parka and tugged. We had time. We could dive in the boat and escape out to sea, assuming the creature with its sights trained on us couldn’t swim, or fly, or worse. Fear pulsed through my body, pounding in my throat until I thought it would choke me.
“Liam,” I whispered, “Liam, we have to get out of here.”
“You go, Darcy,” he said, without even turning to look at me. “I’m good right here.” His voice, calm as a slow breath, filled me with cold dread. The creature was doing something to him, influencing him, and before I could even react, he was striding forward, mounting the steps towards it.
“Liam,” I shouted. “Liam, don’t!”
I ran, grabbed onto the back of his coat and with all the strength I could muster, attempted to drag him back. But he was so much stronger than me. He shrugged me off him, and I tumbled backwards down the slippery stone steps.
I landed hard, pain bursting through my head as my skull cracked against a jagged edge of the rocks. Momentarily stunned, I was forced to watch as Liam reached for the creature’s outstretched hand and she pulled him into her. I saw his woollen hat fall to the ground as her blackened fingernails raked his curly hair, closing in a fist that jerked his head to one side, exposing his throat.
“No,” I cried, “please!”
But Liam was docile in her hands, even as her tongue shivered across those pointed fangs and she spread her lips on the pulse at his neck.
Driven by pure desperation, on hands and knees I crawled towards the steps, still reeling from the concussion of my fall. All I knew was that I had to get to Liam before he ended up like John-Joe in that boat. I couldn’t lose him too. He was all I had left. My vision blurred, but still I saw with crystal clarity the moment when her pointed fangs penetrated skin, bleeding crimson ribbons down his pale neck. His pliant body jerked as she sealed her lips to his pulse and sucked from him in long, greedy draws.
A cry of pure anguish breached my lips. Liam was dying and I was powerless to prevent it. “Let him live,” I begged her, “please, let him go.”
“Let him go.”
Confused, I heard my words repeated back at me, not an echo, but the grim authority of a male voice I recognised instantly.
“Let him go,” he said, louder this time. “It’s me you want, not him.”
Squinting up at the cliff top, the image of Jack Pembroke came into focus. Wild-eyed, shirtless and buffeted by the wind and the sea-spray, he looked larger than life. This was no Colin Firth coming from the pond, this was crazy Heathcliff on the moors.
“It’s me,” he called to the creature. “Jack Pembroke.”
At the sound of that name, she paused in her feeding and her black-veined eyes flipped up to pin him with a death-glare. Having drawn her attention away from Liam, he pressed the advantage.
“You came back from
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