Download pdf - Consumed Excerpt

8/3/2019 Consumed Excerpt

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course Becky, who worked in the tearoom with her, going

on about the Keeps gory history and its ghosts. Mrs. Driver,

the elderly housekeeper, warning her to always lock her door

at night. Patience, the mad old woman at the Green Ladyinn, with her singsong predictions of danger. And then . . .

shed been caught up with St John and his friends. From the

moment shed accessed their weird Hidden History website,

theyd tracked her, trapped her, and shed mistaken it for

friendship. Shed mistaken it for love. They were glamorous,

seductive, and St John was irresistible. Beauty is Cruel, Cru-

elty is Beautiful. . . .

She put down her mug, pulled the duvet over her head.

She was remembering how it had all finished. In her

head she was back in the dungeon again.

She saw the black candles cast their lurid light on the

low brick ceiling; she felt the smothering miasma of fear and

evil. She heard Flora taunting her, saw Abigail terrified

and bleeding, and Marcus and Petra like automatons, obey-

ing St John. People shed thought were her friends, the boy

shed thought was in love with her . . . shed just been their

key to Mortons Keep. St Johns face was gloating, trium-

phant, as he goaded her for falling for him, for liking his

vampire kisses. She heard him claim ancestry with the sadis-

tic Sir Simeon Lingwall, claiming the house and its ancient,

dark power for himself. . . .

She rolled herself tighter in her duvet, willed herself to

see Ethan appearing, hurling the flaming torch, launchinghimself at St John, and knocking him out cold as the raven-

ous fire took hold. . . .


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Fire.She saw fire scorching through the dungeon, and

felt calmer imagining its heat. Her nightmare was wrong.

There was safety in fire. Ethan was with the fire festival

men and hed told her they were watchers over MortonsKeep, and somehow their fires kept it safe. Although no one

was clear what was myth, what was real, it was all shrouded

in a thousand years of uncertainty. . . .

Its over, she told herself. Whatever it all meant, what

was real, what was unreal its finished.Im safe.

But she couldnt get back to sleep.

Dawn was breaking as Rayne, her short coat over her paja-

mas and her wellies pulled on her bare feet, walked out into

the medieval garden. She locked the Old Sty door behind

her and pocketed the huge iron key.

The birds hadnt started singing yet. She wandered

through the trees, toward Mortons Keep. The ancient man-

sion house seemed to crouch like a great beast behind the

woods, its two towers looming.

She stopped in a clearing made by a tree felled in one of

the recent storms, half sawed up for firewood, and with a

catch to the throat recognized where shed sat last night,

with Ethan. She sank down onto a log, where last night

shed sat half-facing him. She felt like crying.

It had started out so right, with her sudden sense that

Ethan liked her, wanted her, with him agreeing to come

back to the Old Sty for coffee.And then it had all gone so wrong.

She covered her eyes with her hands, remembering.


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asked. Or actually I think theres a couple of beers in

the fridge. . . .

Yeah? Id love a beer. Or tea.

She went into the cubbyhole kitchen at the back of theroom, yanked open the fridge, and was relieved to see three

bottles of Budweiser lined up behind the eggs. She decapped

two of them, and hovered undecided over a large bag of

chips lying on the counter. She could tip them in that pretty

blue bowl, she thought, put it between them on the table . . .

no, that was pathetic, too trying-too-hard.

She marched back to the main room. Her breathing was

coming too fast, it was making her nervous. Beer, she

announced.

Great, said Ethan. He was sitting at the table now,

looking out of the window at the dark trees as they swayed

and shushed in the wind. She handed him a bottle and sat

down opposite him, but his eyes wouldnt meet hers. Why is

this so hard?she thought. Extraordinary, cosmic events linked

the two of them. Theyd triumphed together; theyd kept

Mortons Keep safe. It had been a long fight, ending in

the hateful, hidden dungeon of the ancient house. Where

hed . . . she thought the word carefully . . . saved her. On

more than one level, Ethan had saved her.

And in the dark woods earlier, theyd had so much to

say, theyd fallen over their words, but now. . .

So, she said at last, do you think its over? Now that

Lingwalls dungeons going to be filled up with concrete?Ethan shrugged. Even if Lingwalls been burned out, it

wont transform Mortons Keep into some kind of holy


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shrine. If the stories are true, that the house is built on a site

of ancient evil . . . He trailed off, took a gulp of beer, and

said, Sir Simeon Lingwall managed to make something

uniquely nasty out of the energy here, but people say thewalls of Mortons Keep have always run with blood.

Shut up, she laughed. I have to live here!

He smiled back at her, looking at her at last. Youll be

all right. Youre protected, arent you?

She knew he meant the green lady, that strange spirit

of the woods who skirled through old stories and half-

remembered folklore in these parts. Whod shown herself to

Rayne in leaves, in birds. Who had an old local inn named

after her and whose presence Rayne had felt, absolutely. But

she couldnt bring herself to talk about all that anymore. It

seemed insubstantial, silly even as if it was all slipping

away from her.

There was a long silence, the awkwardness between

them growing by the second. Rayne looked at him, at his

profile half-turned away from her again, and something

inside her seized up with how much she liked his face, liked

him. She had to get through to him again she had to get

close. Almost in a panic she scrambled to her feet, saying,

Dyou want some chips?

Ethan stood up too. He came round the table toward

her and made a kind of lunge for her, getting hold of her

arms. Then he kissed her, fast, before she could even

focus on his face, but the minute she felt his mouth aviolent shudder ran through her, and she wrenched her-

self away.


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God, breathed Ethan, sorry. . . hey, whats wrong?

She was still shuddering, her breath coming in spasms,

her legs shaking so much that her whole body trembled.

Rayne, Im sorry. Shit, Im sorry. You asked me backhere I thought

She raised her hands to apologize, to reassure him. She

didnt trust herself to speak.

You OK? he asked desperately. His hands were hover-

ing, wanting to touch her, not daring to. Youve gone white.

Look, sit down. Ill get you a drink of water

God, Im sorry, she gasped at last, through chattering

teeth, Im being an idiot

Youre not. Its me whos the idiot. Its too soon its too

soon after everything that happened. . . . Look, sit down.

Before you fall down. Ill get you that water.

He hurried off to the kitchen and Rayne sat down and

tried to calm her breathing, but her hands were jumping on

the table, her legs were shaking still. She felt full of anguish.

What would he think of her now? That she was some kind

of freak who flipped out at a kiss

He was standing in front of her with the glass of water.

She looked up at him and tried to smile. Any better? he

asked.

Yes. Shit, Im so sorry

Its OK. He put the glass down on the table warily, to

one side of her, as though he was terrified to touch her again.

Listen, Im gonna go. You should get some sleep. He wasacting like he couldnt wait to get away from her, and she

couldnt blame him. She wanted to ask him to stay, but


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she couldnt say the words. She just nodded, smiling, over

the rim of the water glass. Ill call you, OK? he said. Ill

call you and see how you are.

Then he turned, and almost bolted out through the doorinto the night.

Oh, brilliant,thought Rayne. You get him to come back here,

then you freak out. Youwanted him to kiss you. Ever since you

first saw him, if youre honest, youve wanted that. So why act

like hes shoved a million volts through you? Shit.Shit!

The shaking had stopped. She wasnt even trembling

now. She stood up and went over to the door and looked out

into the wild, moon-washed garden. It was silent hed

long gone. In her mind she replayed him saying Ill call

you, OK? Ill call you and see how you are and she told her-

self it would all work out, shed see him again. But then she

remembered the way hed practically run out of the door,

and she felt awful again.

He was right, though, it was all too soon. Too soon after

somebody elses kisses.

St Johns kisses.

The birds were singing now; the sun was growing stronger.

It was going to be another mellow autumn day. Rayne felt

calmer, somehow, for reliving, for facingwhat had happened

the night before, but she was chilled to the bone. She scram-

bled up from the log and hurried back to the Old Sty.

She kicked off her wellies, then, still with her coat on, sheclimbed under her duvet, telling herself shed snatch a few


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hours sleep before work. Sleep, she hoped, without night-

mares this time.

She lay there listening to the new-day birds, drifting off

into a doze, and as she did, she lifted a finger to her mouth,and pressed her lips where Ethans had been.