Rare by Patrick de Moss

Author:Patrick de Moss
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Patrick de Moss

Chapter 10

The White Witch

“C

reature,” said a voice outside, and Emma wanted to cry because it was as clear and shining as trumpets echoing off marble walls. “You’ve reached far above yourself here. Open.”

Emma went to the door.

“Don’t you dare,” Mr. Gustav said. His pale hand was tight around Scarlett’s wrist, but his whole body shook. The light from under the door stretched closer to the back wall, and he seemed to shrink as it spread, to get smaller and smaller. His hair looked brittle, drab. Emma couldn’t believe this man, cowering in the corner under Scarlett’s limp form, was the same towering, terrible force behind a wall of cards only a short time earlier.

“Emma?” Gwen said through the door. “Are you there?”

“I’m here!”

“Scarlett?”

Scarlett’s eyes were glassy, her head slumped to her chest.

“She’s here,” Emma said. “With Mr. Gustav.”

Mr. Gustav hissed a sharp intake of breath as he pulled Scarlett even closer, like a talisman against the light under the door.

“Gustav,” Gwendolyn said. “Count Gustav Branovich.” He was breathing just a little faster. “I know your kin. And you know mine.”

“You can’t touch me, witch,” Gustav shouted at the door, but he didn’t seem very sure. “I know the Law. You can’t touch me.”

“That might be true,” Gwendolyn said. “But I can feel your fingers on one of my friends.”

He mewled; a sick, pathetic little sound like a wounded animal.

“Open the door to me, Branovich.”

Gustav laughed a wild, high laugh.

“You’ve gone mad, witch. You know my Lady would kill me.”

“I’m giving you your last chance to live through the night. Open the door to me.”

He looked thoughtful for a moment. Then he opened his mouth, and it was . . . there were teeth like razors around an endless black hole of a throat that went on and on into nothingness.

“Gwen!” she screamed. He was leaning over Scarlett’s exposed throat, eyes red and desperate. “Gwen!”

The door blew apart with a thunderclap.

~~~

In came Gwendolyn the White Witch and the power she had brought with her.

Time. Time had come to the dark slot room beyond. Time—with its seasons, its daylight hours—streamed into the deathlike embrace of the Lucky 8. The wailing from without was the recognition of that time and of all that had been lost along with it. Of bills unpaid, of opportunities missed, of all the things that waited beyond the doors of the slot room. The despair of existing in the world of all that was real and tangible, and of all that had been put on hold for the vampires of chance and pleasure. The cruel, beautiful light of a summer morning came for Mr. Gustav, too. It was only a sliver, but a sliver of daylight was more than enough.

Sharp, angular, vicious Mr. Gustav rotted before Emma’s eyes, turning a sickly yellow and collapsing against Scarlett’s throat. Emma stepped back as teeth skittered from his mouth, clattering like so many poker chips tossed to the floor, leaving him to gum uselessly against Scarlett’s skin, his own perfect form

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