Page 43 of Wolf Trap

As he neared them, they gasped, their chanting changed. “The king, it’s the king!”

As they moved forward collectively, my jaw dropped as my brain seemed to freeze in horror.

The people, all of them, their heads were… back to front.

Jolted as Hakon gripped my arm, I hadn’t even seen him move. He lowered his head to mine.

“In Hell, these are the mages, witches, astrologers and all those that can and do divine the future. Seen as an affront to God, their punishment is quite literal. They spend eternity looking backwards.”

Speaking without thinking,Lycaon muttered, “I’m glad my gods are different. Don’t go to Hell!”

Hakon frowned at him. “You should see what Hell does to werewolves. This is nothing in comparison.”

They clamoured around Anthony, like sheep to the shepherd as he spoke softly, allowing them to grasp at his sleeves, their murmurs quieting.

The dukes stood back a little, heads cocked and I noticed Anthony bent a little as he listened to the sinners. Noddinggently, he lifted his arms as silence filled the cavern. They edged away from him, huddling close together. My mouth filled with saliva, worry trickled through me as I realised what he was going to do. Taking a step forward, Lycaon took my hand, his voice soft as he said, “No. They are tormented. Gods alive, probably only Adara would have the power to restore them, and I’d dread to think. With their twisted magic…”

Lycaon’s voice was lost in the darkness as the vampire conjured a brilliant light, its heat almost scorching as his body shook.

The stench of charred fat, as the cavern dimmed again, a huge pile of dust lay before him but he didn’t turn around.

Stepping close to him the dukes whispered, then tipped their heads as they slowly walked away. Anthony wiped his eyes with his sleeve before shooting us a quick glance, his voice choked, “This way.”

Hakon didn’t relent. Jogging over to Anthony he grabbed at the vampire's shoulder pulling him around.

His face contorted as Hakon questioned him, “But why? You’ve never cared to relieve them of their suffering before, and tears, for them, sinners? Why now? What’s changed?”

Anthony said nothing but moving his head, his teary gaze fell on me.

Hakon didn’t miss it. Wide eyed, his voice throaty as he asked, “Elsa? What’s this, you changed him, a vampire with human emotions! Now, I know Anthony was a vampire that fought his nature. But this? You must stop meddling! We won’t survive if we feel guilty with every drop of blood!”

I said nothing, my eyes darted from Anthony to Hakon. I hadn’t realised that my vampire's prayer had been that effective. Maybe they should feel some guilt. Humanity suited Anthony, Hakon probably not so much. He probably feared it would make him weaker.

Lycaon squeezed my arm, his face shielded from the others as his hair fell forward. But I saw the small smile as he whispered, “Perhaps we, I, could use more empathy.”

Ignoring Hakon, Anthony shrugged him off and walked around the piles of dust on the floor across the cavern. In the dim light I saw a passageway, and as he darted up some steps, my heart eased, relieved to be getting out of here. I hadn’t seen much, but I’d say I’d seen enough and vowed to never return again.

I just hoped my fate after death wouldn’t lead here, but Anthony remained a king of Hell, perhaps his benevolence would be my salvation.

14

THE AUCTION

Hakon brushed his trousers with his hands. “Farewell for now. I live up there, so I’ll catch you all later. I’m home for a shower, I smell like Hell! There’s never a dull moment with you lot.” He laughed and was gone without a backward glance.

Lycaon and I followed Anthony through the cobbled back streets of the tiny city.

The house he owned with Nathaniel was a huge Georgian townhouse in the centre of Bath.

As Anthony opened the front door, a chequered floor and an opulent crystal chandelier reflecting tiny orbs of light greeted us. A solid oak bannister carved with leaves curved up a large stairway.

The aroma was rich and full, with a hint of sweetness and spices taking away the nausea I had from being in Hell.

I felt like a street urchin from a Dickens novel in comparison. The whole house oozed wealth. I’d seen this kind of furniture in magazines that were too expensive to buy let alone the actual cost of it.

The sleek, handcrafted furniture, along with vivid colours on the walls and suede fabrics, oozed of wealth. As we passed the living room, it revealed their technology, which looked like something from the future. And erotic oil paintings with gilded frames lined the walls. A bachelor’s pleasure house.

To make the point, a plum chaise lounge draped with velvet throws and an assortment of underwear and other toys was brazenly displayed for all to see. Or try perhaps.

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