Page 33 of Devil at the Gates
“Devil!” Redmond shouted from the front door, but the dog didn’t move.
Redmond walked the distance out to the gates and stood beside his furry companion. Both of them stared down the road where Harriet had gone. Suddenly Devil spun to face the house, his hackles raised as he growled. Redmond turned as well and gasped in shock. A woman’s face stared out of his bedchamber window. Even at a distance, he knew who it was.
Millicent.
“Red…” The whisper he heard was neither male nor female, and the way it caressed the air around him made him shiver.
The woman raised a hand, pressing her palm to the glass. “Red… He has her…”
Devil stopped growling and stood frozen, watching as the face in the window faded. The birdsong and wind blowing in from the cliffs soon came back. Only then did Redmond realize that everything had stilled while Millicent spoke to him. Her warning flashed through his mind again. His fears that the ghosts that haunted his home meant to bring him harm seemed to fade in that instant. They were warning him, helping him.
“Harriet!” He sprinted for the house, yelling for his horse.
“Your Grace?” Grindle rushed out into the hall as Redmond entered it.
“I have to go after her. She’s not safe. I never should have let her go.”
He ordered his horse to be made ready and went into his study to retrieve a pistol from his desk drawer and loaded it. Then he tucked it into his coat before getting on his horse. He rode for Dover, but as he reached the main road that split between Dover and Faversham as the gloom upon the land began to settle in, he saw something standing there, blocking the road to Dover.
Redmond stared at the phantom, which seemed to glow in the darkness. Redmond’s lips parted, but he spoke no words. His usually gentle mare bucked wildly, as though sensing, perhaps even seeing, this supernatural vision.
Thomas.
His brother pointed toward the road leading to Faversham. His pale form glowed from a light source deep within, leaving him a ghostly pearlescent version of his former self.
“The inn…” The words had barely left Thomas’s lips before he vanished.
Redmond stared down the road to Dover, where he knew Harriet had gone, but then he looked down the opposite path his brother had pointed toward. Was he losing his mind to not only see but trust these visions?
He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. He had to trust them. He steered his mount toward Faversham.
“Show me the way, brother. Show me,” he pleaded upon the winds as he raced on.
He saw the distant lights of an inn ahead. A vision filled his head, clear as day. Harriet reaching for a knife, Halifax lunging for her. Redmond didn’t waste a second as he stopped at the inn and threw the reins of his horse to a stable boy. The inside of the inn was eerily quiet. A few men sat in a corner, drinking ale over hushed whispers. They eyed him warily as he strode in. Redmond ignored them and sought the innkeeper.
“I’m looking for a man named Halifax. He may have come in with a young woman. I will pay handsomely for full information.” He slapped a small purse on the counter.
The barman’s eyes widened. “They were here, stayed for dinner in one of the rooms upstairs. But they started shouting, and the woman ran out toward the cliffs. The bloke went after her.” The man reached for the bag of coins.
The bitter taste of panic filled Redmond’s mouth. Harriet was headed for the cliffs? What was she thinking? She could fall…like Millicent.
“Where is your back door?”
The man pointed over his shoulder, through the kitchen.
“Thank you.” He ran to the door, his heart pounding as he prayed that he wasn’t too late.
Harriet clawed George’s face as he wrestled her to the ground. The grass was wet with melted patches of snow. She had slipped as her boots caught on a slick spot of snow, giving George the chance to catch up with her. Now she was fighting for her life. Her body ached with the weight of him atop her.
The meager moonlight darkened the shadows on his face. He snarled and hurled himself at her. He clubbed her savagely on the temple, and she lost her hold on his hands, which now curled around her throat. She struggled for breath, trying to reach for the small knife that lay inches away from her hand. His eyes were lit with the demonic lust for death as he held her down. It would be so easy to give in, to surrender and let go. Harriet was tired of running, tired of fighting. She wanted Redmond, to be back in his arms. Her vision began to dim, and she could hear her mother’s voice.
“Harriet…fight…”
He laughed heartily, the awful sound of his joy jerking her back to her senses. Her fingers touched the tip of the blade, and she strained until she curled her fingers around it. Then she swung, jabbing it deep into his side. He threw back his head and cried out in pain. His hands released her, and she punched him hard in the throat, sending him stumbling back. The instant she was free, she tried to crawl away from the cliffs, but her head swam and she nearly fainted from the pain in her skull. When she turned to see George, he was a few feet away at the cliff’s edge, staring at her in fury.
“You little bitch!” He pulled the knife out and stared at her. Then his face hardened, and he stepped toward her.
Crack!
