CHAPTER: 33
CHAPTER: 33
And Adira suddenly found herself twisted backward and held in Allison's small but strong arms. She felt
heat tear through her body at Allison's first touch, as if lightning had struck her. And then Adira's own
dagger was wrested from her hand and held to her heart, and Adira cried out, certain her life was about
to end.
Allison got her face close to Adira's ear, and whispered, "First lesson, Adira. Trust no one."
Adira shuddered at the familiarity of those words, the way they echoed what her mother had written to
her. And then she released Adira and gently pressed her weapon back into her hand as her heart
thundered against her ribs.
"I would say, Adira, that it is a very good thing I was the first to find you," Allison said.
"You weren't," Adira told her. "Another one... a man, attacked me before I left England."
"And you defeated him?" Allison's golden brown eyes were wide then with disbelief.
Ashamed, Adira lowered her head. "I escaped him. Barely."
"You survived," Allison told her. "There is no shame in living to fight another day, Adira. Come now, and
take me to your home. I will be needing a place to stay, and also a silly dress so I can pass as one of
them."
Allison expected her hospitality? After what she had just done?
Smiling, Allison glanced at her dagger. "You can put that away, Adira. It will do you little good, anyway,
up until I have taught you to use it properly."
"I believe I will hold on to it for a bit longer," Adira responded.
And Allison's smile grew wider as she nodded her approval. "Very good, Adira. You are a fast learner.
You always were."
"And how would you know that?" Adira asked, studying her closely.
Allison laughed at herself, shrugging. "Oh don't mind my comments. I am a bit of a psychic, actually. I
can read people. It is just something I picked up on. Besides, after what you have been through, having
to flee for your life, start over, you would almost have to be a fast learner, wouldn't you?" She then
turned and began walking the road toward Adira's home, glancing at the tracks the wagon wheels had
left in the dirt.
Adira had little choice but to follow her.
**********
Damien paced the length of the simple and not particularly comfortable cabin he had been given as
shelter, turned, and paced again. The fire snapped and popped loudly, drawing his gaze, and he found
himself going still, staring into the flames, remembering.
The trapdoors dropping. The girl falling, the entire weight of her body crashing toward the ground and
then stopping short at the end of that rope. The way she had jerked at the bottom. The way her head
snapped. And the way it had fallen upon his shoulder when he cut her down, as if her neck were
boneless, or made of liquid.
Steel collar. There had been no steel collar, Damien recalled.
The flames in the fireplace leaped and danced, and he thought of the fire he had seen dancing in
Adira's eyes. Hellfire? he wondered. Or something else?
If he were truly a man of God, he would tell what he knew. He closed his eyes and lowered his head.
No, if he spoke out, she would be arrested. Harmed, killed, perhaps. He could not believe that to be
God's will, no matter what she was.
Had she done something to him? Put some spell on him? Willed him to feel these things for her? Was
such a thing even possible? Damien wondered.
Heavy steps sounded outside, and he opened the door before old Alex Davies could announce his
presence. The man's face seemed grim. He said, "We have to talk. There is... something you need to
be made aware of."
"Come in," Damien said. And he wondered why he was irritated at the interruption. He ought to be glad
to be distracted from thinking about her. Seeing her again--God, he was bordering on obsession now
that he had seen her. It was with absolute self-control that he could keep himself from going to her.
Right now, tonight.
"I had not intended to trouble you with this, Reverend Walter, but upon seeing you in the church with
Mistress Thompson this morning, I felt it necessary," Alex Davies said.
"This concerns Mistress Thompson, then?" Damien asked.
Alex Davies nodded and, clasping his hands behind him, began pacing much as Damien had been
doing only moments ago. "Reverend... I fear the woman is trouble," he said. "You recall the
conversation we had before you came to the Sanctuary, do you not?"
Damien nodded and instantly knew what Alex Davies would say next.
"The enchantress I spoke of is none other than Mistress Thompson herself," Alex Davies said.
A cold hand seemed to clutch Damien's heart when Alex Davies' words confirmed what he had already
guessed. He lowered his head, hoping to hide the flare of alarm that widened his eyes.
"I fear, my friend, she may be more than just a temptress. Much more."
"Say what you mean, Alex. I dislike guessing games," Damien said to him. NôvelDrama.Org (C) content.
Alex Davies shrugged. "Surely it is obvious. The woman could be a practitioner of the black arts... a
witch."
The hairs on the back of Damien's neck bristled, and he found himself instinctively defending her, not
even giving his words a thought before speaking them. "Don't be ridiculous, Alex. Why would you think
such a thing?"
Alex turned slowly, his eyes narrow. "She is unnaturally beautiful, is she not?"
Holding that gaze, Damien nodded. "Incredibly beautiful," he said. "But why do you say it is unnatural?"
"Because of the way she parades her beauty before the men of this congregation. I bet not a single
person must have escaped her tricks. All of them lusting after her, I am telling you, no matter how God-
fearing they might be. And that is her plan, Damien. To lure us all into sin, and damn us before she
moves on to the next God-loving gathering," Alex Davies said.
A/N: To be continued...