Chapter 27

She was gone when the sun set, the summer day drawing out for far too long as we were forced to wait. Agitated. Restless. We'd known something was simmering in the air, there was a bitterness clinging to everything.

She is ours. She belongs with us, we love her. We are supposed to protect her from Carver.

Except we haven't.

And when the sun had sunk down below the horizon, she was nowhere to be found.

Sax had told us to split up while we searched the entire estate, afraid that Carver might have taken her somewhere else. Someplace we couldn"t go, bound to the grounds by our stupid curse.

I don't know what made me fly straight to the West Wing. It was a tugging in my chest, something leading me there. The door was locked, and before sanity could make me second guess myself, I used my claws and tore the door from its hinges.

I hadn't ever been in this part of the house. It felt wrong, like a black ink stain on the map of the manor. A suffocating space, filled with forgotten screams and a pulsing evil. I could feel it now – pushing against whatever magic flows through me. Warning me not to get too close. Throbbing with an angry hunger.

Opening doors, I search for our little dove, but the first few rooms yield nothing. Just boxes and dust.

The next room makes me freeze. Something is throwing me off, my head fuzzy as I step into what looks like a private museum. The collection makes no sense, there's no coherency in the items.

As if being pulled towards a cabinet in the far left corner, my body moves of its own accord. Tucked behind a spyglass, a pocket watch and some jewellery there's a small leather notebook, bound shut with a faded cord and a tiny flower charm.

My chest feels like I've been stabbed, as I suck in a ragged breath, fear and pain washing over me. I didn't need to breathe, so why was I feeling this? Like I'm suffocating.

Smashing my fist through the glass, I grab the book. The fragile thing feels flimsy and light in my large hand and as the pages fall open there's something about the scrawled notes and poems that remind me of…I don't know. I scratch the tip of my claw against the inkings of bluebells and nettles. The memory blinks away as fast as it came, like sand through my fingers.

I don"t have time to chase smoke ghosts but as I go to replace the book of poems, my gaze snags on the name scribbled on the inside cover.

Jasper Francis White, 1829.

I freeze, unable to move. Unable to think.

What is this? What does it mean?

A shout pulls me out of the daze I'm in.

Arianwen.

I drop the book, letting it fall with a quiet clatter, pages coming loose and sliding across the polished floor. The past no longer matters because she's our future and she needs us.

Voices seem to come from the walls as I start tearing down paintings and frames. Growling, I let out a frustrated roar. I know she's close, but why can't I find her?

Finally I land on the right portrait, the heavy frame coming away from the wall with a groan, revealing a hidden doorway.

It leads me down into a smugglers' cavern beneath the estate. Carver has clearly had it made larger over the years, as it now fits an ornate cabinet, shelves and hooks with tools, a medieval torture device and a large stone altar.

There are candles lit everywhere, wax dripping down the surfaces but the dim lighting does nothing to hide the blood that's been spilled here.

This is the evil heart of Clifton Manor.

A stone tablet is propped against the wall, surrounded by even more candles, the grainy surface stained with rust coloured patches. If Ari wasn't bound to a chair, I would take more time to explore the horrors of this room.

Instead, I fly towards the Lord of the Manor, whose hands are wrapped around my love's neck as he squeezes the life out of her. I can see the light fading in her ocean eyes as her long lashes flutter shut, soft pink lips parted with a strange smile.

Feral with rage, I fly towards him, and wrench him away from her, throwing Carver against the nearest wall. The sickening crack sends a sense of satisfaction through me, but I don't waste my time on him. He isn't my priority.

"Ari, little dove?" Using my claws, I slice through her bindings, the rope falling away. There don't appear to be any wounds besides teeth marks on her cheek, but I notice the dried cum painting her thighs. I bite down on my tongue to stop myself from snarling.

I'm going to kill him. Tear him limb from limb.

But first, she needs me.

Pulling Ari against me, I let her bury her head in my neck as I whisper against her hair. "I'm sorry."

She sputters and coughs a little as she gasps for air. Tears stream down her cheeks as her small fingers dig into my back, holding me close.

Peppering her with kisses, I touch her as if to reassure myself she's real and unharmed. "I'm sorry it took me so long. I'm here now."

"Jas?" she croaks as she presses her lips against mine softly, arms coming around my neck. "Jas!"

Something hard hits me on the back of my head and I realise Carver has come around. I push Ari aside carefully so I can deal with her sick fuck of a step-father.

Carver stands with a crowbar in his hand, blood running down his face and dripping into his eye as he bares his teeth at me.

"What the fuck are you?"

"What does it look like, Lord Clifton?" I offer him a lazy grin as I spread my wings wide, taking up all the free space in the cavern. His gaze snags on my fangs.

His eyes widen and there's this unhinged madness about the man that makes me cautious.

"Gargoyle." He laughs, throwing his head back. It's a manic sound that bubbles up his throat. "The Clifton curse. It's real."

I don't know what the Clifton curse is, but I know he will never lay another hand on Ari. I will break every finger in his hand before he comes even a step closer.

"I'm a grotesque, you moron," I hiss as he throws himself at me, swinging.

The steel tool hits the side of my head with more force than I'm expecting, but the idiot still hasn't seemed to register that I am not human. I am not made of skin and bone. I am magic and mayhem. He charges, taking another swing and we grapple.

Folding my wings back in to avoid accidentally hurting Ari, I wrestle with the pathetic man. His third attack manages to chip my shoulder, barely a graze but Ari starts screaming for me, which seems to urge Carver on, energising him.

He is relentless in his next barrage of hits, smashing and swinging, only landing blows when I reign myself in to make sure Ari isn't hurt in his attack.

What I don't count on is Ari jumping on his back and clinging onto him like a limpet.

Carver isn't expecting it either, and as she wraps her braid around his neck and pulls, using her body weight against him, it throws them both backwards onto the floor.

He thrashes for a moment, trying to escape her but she holds on, determined, and for a moment I just watch as she keeps her legs wrapped around his waist and her hair around his neck.

Freeing my wings again, I land on his chest, using my wings to keep my full weight off them but it's enough to stop him from squirming and fighting her.

"You're doing a good job, love," I praise when her eyes meet mine over his shoulder. "A little more and he'll pass out."

She gives me a small nod and pulls tighter, the silvery blonde braid cutting into his neck as he gargles and his face turns red, and then slowly purple. Veins bulge in his head, and his eyes get wide and panicked before they shutter and close.

All the tension drains from his body as he loses consciousness, and when I'm convinced he's out for the count, I help her untangle her braid from his neck and roll him off Ari.

She sits up and pushes her hair off her sweaty face with a laugh. A second later, the tears are flowing again and we both move at the same time.

Cuddled together on the bloody floor, I squeeze her tightly. "I'm so proud of you, little dove. My little fighter. A survivor."

"I knew you'd come for me," she says between sobs.

"Always." I promise. "Love, we will always be there for you."

"Fire!" I yell as we fly through the corridor, following Jas' trail of destruction. There are splintered doors, smashed glass and torn paintings everywhere. But the chaos leads us to the secret passage hidden in a wall, leading underground.

I should have known Carver had hideaways in the house. The Clifton family had been committing treacherous acts for far too long to not have ways of hiding their proclivities. My chest tightens as I think about what sight is about to greet us, and I know Mal is the same because he's practically pasted to my back as we follow the passage into a cavern.

Jas and Ari are locked in an embrace on the floor, his wings and tail wrapped around her, cocooning them. Shielding her. This is a room filled with death. There are body parts decaying in containers. Blood congealing on the walls. The floor. The altar. Tools, like knives and saws are rusted with old blood, hanging on hooks. And candles are everywhere, as if the orange glow could hide the evil.

My eyes land on a stone carving surrounded by candles. The poem inscribed makes my head hurt. ‘Souls twist into stone'…that was us, wasn't it? ‘Death intertwines with fate'? Does that mean…we died here? Were we human once?

"There's a fire, we need to move." Mal's words cut through the questions racing in my mind.

"A fire?" Jas echoes, as he gets to his feet, carrying Ari in his arms.

"That mad fucker Danvers!" Mal rubs his face before kicking over a box, which he instantly regrets as intestines slop onto the floor. He peers into other containers, face wrinkled in disgust.

"We split up to look for you, and Mal found the groundskeeper," I explain, reaching out to stroke Ari's cheek. She nuzzles against my palm, her blue eyes ringed red from crying. "He tried to get Danvers to tell us where Carver had taken you."

Mal snorts, "But the crazy cunt grabbed his shotgun and started firing."

Ari's mouth opens in shock and she reaches out for Mal to check him over. I notice the chip missing from Jas' shoulder, but I say nothing, knowing that he will tell me later what happened and why Carver is unconscious at our feet. I can kiss them both better once we're out of this chamber of evil.

"We're fine," Mal reassures her, with a soft smile before he shakes his head. "But he can't aim for shit, so he hit a petrol can in one of the sheds, then the bushes caught fire, which meant the house caught too. And now everything is burning."

That was an understatement. All the antique woods, the neglected furnishings, the derelict rooms, it's all being consumed by the blaze, and if we don't leave soon, we'll be trapped down here in a fiery inferno. The derelict manor house is the perfect kindling.

"We need to leave," I say, pushing authority in my voice. This is my family. And I'm not going to risk their lives for a second longer.

Ari clears her throat, and nods towards Carver. "What if he wakes up and crawls out of the fire?"

I raise my brow at her as I usher Mal towards the door. "He's not our priority love, you are."

"We can't let him leave here," Mal protests, pushing back against me. He grabs a saw from one of the hooks but I take it from him with a shake of my head.

"Let us handle this, little dove," I assure her, but her brows draw together in a frown. I hate that little line she gets, I want to smooth it out with my finger and erase all her worries.

"No." She climbs down from Jas' hold. "This is one monster…one nightmare that I need to face."

She pushes her braid back over her shoulder, closes her eyes and inhales slowly before her eyes flutter open with a determined glint.

"Help me lift him?" she asks Mal, and a moment later I realise why. Jas is too softhearted for what they plan to do to Carver.

They drag him over to the Iron Maiden and swing open the door. The spikes are dirty, stained like every other thing else in this room. Carver's poison touches everything.

Carver groans, and he starts to come around, but it's too late as they position him against the metal stakes and close the door, clicking the lock into place, the sound drowned out by his screams. The spikes are designed to hurt, but they won't kill him anytime soon. He'll bleed to death, and it won't be quick.

"Is it me or is it getting hot in here?" Jas asks, as Ari stands before the torture device, looking through the gap into her step-father's eyes.

"You'll never hurt anyone else, ever again," she vows as blood begins to trickle out of the bottom of the device.

"You can't leave me here. People will miss me, princess," he tries to rasp out, but there's liquid in his lungs as he coughs, then cries out when the cough jostles him on the spikes. "I'm not a nobody who can just vanish, like you."

"Will you bleed to death, Carver? Or burn?" Mal asks, tapping against the metal shell with his claws. "Do you think you'll smell like roast chicken? Or more like pork?"

"This is a quicker death than you deserve," Jas hisses, before he ducks into the passageway. "And Mal, I reckon he'll smell like rancid burnt pork."

"I'll take that bet. My money is on chicken." Mal laughs, and rubs his hands together as he follows Jas. "How about the loser bottoms?"

"Deal," Jas replies as their voices fade.

The heat picks up another couple of degrees, and there"s a smokey scent in the air.

"We're running out of time," I warn Ari as she turns away from Carver to look for something in one of the cabinets. Smoke has started pouring in now, in thick black unfurling waves.

"Wait!" she yells as I toss her over my shoulder. "It's that one!"

Glancing at where she's pointing, I grab a braid with the sea blue ribbon and leave behind a screaming Lord Clifton trapped in a hell of his own making.

The west wing is on fire, but Jas and Mal have already smashed through a large window, leaving it clear for me to follow with Ari.

Once we're free of the house, I don't set us down, not yet.

From the air, we watch as everything is consumed by the flames. Everything except the tower. Our tower.

"Find the groundskeeper," I say to Mal, who nods.

"Mal…he worked with Carver." Ari's voice is quiet, but even with the sounds of the house collapsing, warping and splintering beneath us, we can all clearly hear her words. "He likes to torture little girls."

He clenches his jaw. "I understand."

I allow her to slide down my body and into my arms, so she can wrap her hands around my neck as we fly towards the beach.

We land on the sand, the tide retreating as the skyline is filled with black smoke, thick and heavy.

"It's over, my love."

She stands there, nightgown and hair blowing gently in the breeze as she stares at the burning ruins of her old life.

We settle on the beach around a small fire, sitting on some large rocks and a fallen tree trunk as the horizon continues to glow orange and red.

It doesn"t take long for Mal to return, his mouth drawn into a tight line.

He sits next to Ari before pulling her into his lap. "The groundskeeper is dead, it looks like he was trapped by a falling beam."

His gaze catches mine over her head, and I know he's lying for her sake. But I'm glad that what needed to be done has been done.

She nods, and gets to her feet after offering him a tender kiss. He follows her, as if he's tethered to her by a magic bond, and slides his huge hand around her tiny one.

I find myself joining them, wrapping my arm around her shoulder to kiss the top of her head. "Once the flames die down, we'll return and see what remains."

"It doesn't matter." Straightening her shoulders, she lifts her chin. "I have you, and that's all I need."

Jas joins us, standing behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist with his chin resting on her shoulder.

"We love you, Arianwen," Jas whispers.

"Our little dove," I reply.

"Our hellion," Mal murmurs.

Our words are spoken with reverence, like a vow, our promise to love and protect her for the rest of our days, however long they may be.

"I love you all." Her words float on the breeze, and wrap around us.

We've not yet acknowledged that when Carver dies, the magic that binds us to the estate may fade too.

When the sun rises, she could be alone.

But she will be free, and that's all that matters.