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Visions of the townsfolk rebelling against him two hundred and fifty years ago flooded back to him, and once again he saw his
beloved Elise dead before his eyes. For a moment, he felt as helpless now as he had then. It was only when he realized that he
could save her this time that he snapped out of his funk.
"NO!" He pulled off her and moved towards the door, just in time to see it burst open.
Margaret, the costume shop owner stood there dressed as a nun with a large wooden cross in her hand. "I have the faith to back
this up, demon. Don t you worry none bout that. We ll see you turn to dust before we let you take Elise from us. Go, go back to
the hell hole from which you spawned, demon!"
Jean-Pierre shielded his eyes from the white light that began to emanate from the holy object. He hissed as Margaret moved
closer to him. Her gaze went to the bed and she cried out, "Elise! Oh Lord have mercy, what has he done to you?"
"I saved her life, you old fool." He batted at her, but she held tight to her protection. As long as the cross still glowed, he was
powerless to stop her. His body weakened quickly and it took all his might just to remain standing. Margaret walked to the bed
and put the cross near Elise. When Elise didn t respond she turned her narrow gaze back to Jean-Pierre.
"You killed her. You didn t turn her. You killed her. You re a murdering demon and you re going back to hell. Didn t they warn
you? Didn t they tell you that there d be a price?"
Jean-Pierre tried to make sense of Margaret s words. Didn t who tell him what? The more it thought about it, the more he
remembered the hag sisters who d assured him that he would indeed see Elise Marie again. They warned him not to tempt fate,
not to fight what had been predetermined, but still he did. Now, they were at the mercy of a religious madwoman who somehow
knew about the warnings a set of equally insane sisters gave him over two hundred years ago.
"You should have listened to them. I did, right before I sent them to hell, too!" Margaret shouted.
The idea of Margaret, a seemingly mild-mannered shop owner being able to kill three hag sisters actually alarmed him. If she could
kill three seers then she might very well be able to kill a newly formed vampire--Elise. He wasn t concerned about himself. It
would take quite a bit more than Margaret to destroy him. Sure, she could inflict pain on him, but killing him was an entirely
different matter altogether.
"Come on in, boys, and get her body out of here. We need to cleanse her with holy water before we cut her heart out and bury
her," Margaret yelled.
Two large men burst through the door, wearing robes, and carrying ropes and burlap bags. They looked a good deal like
Margaret so he assumed they were relations. One of the men looked down at Elise s body and Jean-Pierre could smell the man s
arousal as he stared at her naked, blood-stained body. The need to tear the man s head from his shoulders was great--too great
for the demon within him to resist.
The French doors to his bedroom blew open, and the cold October wind blew into the room. All around him, candles flickered
and screams sounded. The screams hadn t come from anyone in the room, but rather some unseen force. Margaret s little helpers
cowered in the corner as shadows appeared out of nowhere, trying to grab them--taunting them.
The sound of soft songs rode over the screams and Jean-Pierre knew that the supernatural community had gathered their strength
to aid him on this night--All Hallows Eve. The power of the paranormal was ten fold and with the help of his brethren he would
not lose Elise to crazed townspeople again. No. It was time that an end came to those who would persecute others simply for
being different.
The light from the cross faded and the woman behind was revealed to him. In one moment, he saw all the sins of her past. All the
murders she d committed over the years, claiming to be working for God. She d murdered women, children, anyone who she
deemed evil. All the lost souls, but his and the three seers, had been ordinary people that her twisted mind had perceived as evil.
Margaret looked to the men she d come with for help, but Jean-Pierre knew that she d find none there. The men, if not dead yet,
would be locked in insanity, prisoners of their own minds. The spirits of their victims now had their vengeance. "No! I will not be
harmed by you, devil!"
Jean-Pierre tipped his head back and laughed wickedly as the wind around him brought about the sound of thunder. "I am not the
devil, old woman. I am much worse." He leapt at her and flung her back against the wall. A sharp pain in his gut made him glance [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]