Chapter Twenty-Six #2
While Elizabeth and the colonel waited for the attack to come, without her notice, Darcy lifted his arms and turned once in place.
“Heads down!” he ordered as the weak flow of energy temporarily blinded the two vampires.
As she remained stunned by the ghostlike presence of her sister, the colonel’s instincts were better trained.
He tackled Elizabeth about the waist, dragging her away from their assailants.
He scrambled quickly to a defensive stance, wielding the sword above his head.
Too soon, Darcy’s arms lowered, and the energy waned. Instantly, the women attacked, first knocking the enfeebled Darcy from the way and then turning their full vengeance on the colonel.
Elizabeth watched in horror as Edward arced his sword through the air, hacking at arms and legs as sharp claws dug at his skin and clothing. “Get Darcy out!” he ordered between strikes, and Elizabeth scrambled to pull Darcy to his feet and towards the exit.
Jerking the door open with one hand, she shoved her husband through. He landed on all fours in the dirt, and then she turned back to the melee. “Lydia!” she screamed as she picked up a poker and challenged her sister.
Lydia turned immediately, providing the colonel a reprieve, the one thing for which Elizabeth had hoped.
Behind Lydia, the colonel still fought with the frenzied older woman, but Elizabeth’s attention rested purely on the creature before her.
Gaping stab wounds now crisscrossed the countenance she loved, and slash marks laced the girl’s arms. Elizabeth groaned in pain, witnessing the evil that controlled her younger sister.
Lydia advanced, backing Elizabeth to the wall. “You wanted me, Elizabeth?” Surprisingly, the sinister words drowned out the shrieks and grunts of the fight raging over Lydia’s shoulder. “My lord will welcome you among his followers.”
“Mama and Papa grieve for you, Lydia.” Feeling guilty, Elizabeth wished to reason rather than to vanquish her sister.
Lydia bared her fangs. “I grieve for no one.” The girl took a step closer. “I will not grieve for you, Sister.”
“But I will grieve for you, Lydia.” Elizabeth intuitively raised the poker in a defensive stance. “I will grieve for the girl whose hand I once held.”
Meanwhile, Edward fought for his life. With no experience in fighting vampires, at first, he underestimated the brute strength of the animals he encountered, seeing only a beautiful woman and a pretty girl.
But a few well-placed blows from his attackers told him he fought more than the shell in which each was encased.
He fought unearthly demons determined to strip him of his soul.
Knowing Elizabeth’s life was in danger, he doubled his efforts.
Finally, the woman charged, and he thrust at the same time.
When the sword pierced her heart, a blood-curdling shriek filled the room as her momentum impaled her to the blade’s hilt.
Instinctively, Edward jerked upward, ensuring his hit incapacitated his opponent, and then he looked again into the violet eyes of the woman he had just killed.
She had died before, but now she was at peace.
A smile turned up the corners of her mouth as she closed her eyes and welcomed heaven.
“Lydia, no!” he heard Elizabeth’s warning behind him as he pushed hard on the woman’s body, following her to the floor.
Screams continued as Edward frantically wrestled with the woman’s limp form to free the sword. Finally placing his booted foot on her chest and yanking at the handle with all his might, the sword came free of her rapidly decaying form.
Darcy, hearing Elizabeth’s calls of distress, fought his way to his feet.
Reeling from exhaustion and desiccation, he knew he must discover some means to reach her.
He must prevent Elizabeth from being the one who destroyed her sister.
She would never forgive herself, no matter how justified the action.
Staggering through the open doorway, he battled for some sort of control.
Assuming she could rekindle the goodness she had once known in her sister, Elizabeth reacted too late to fend off Lydia’s attack.
Darcy watched as she struggled to keep Lydia’s claws from tearing at her face and neck.
Lydia’s unhuman like strength evidently surprised Elizabeth as his wife twisted and turned to wrench herself free of the viselike grip of Lydia’s hell-bent fury, but her sister’s demonic possession pushed Elizabeth against the wall, effectively pinning her and permitting Lydia the planned final mastication.
Elizabeth’s scream shattered the near silence of the room as Lydia lowered her head.
Although weak, Darcy raised his arms, and everything moved in slow motion as Edward pulled the sword free and turned, preparing to charge across the room.
Darcy reached his wife first, and the colonel instinctively released the metal, sending it turning end over end.
The twang of the silver as it sliced the air mixed sharply with Elizabeth’s screams and Edward’s fight for breath.
Darcy paused, focusing all his energy into one movement.
Edward had placed all his trust in Darcy to finish the battle.
The glint of the silver as it caught the refracted light of the morning sun resembled a flash of lightning in a storm, and Darcy’s arm shot out to catch it as it wobbled towards him.
Without thinking, he lunged forward, striking his target from behind, and the blade again found its mark.
Lydia Bennet slumped forward, clinging to her older sister as they both collapsed to the floor, Lydia lying face down in Elizabeth’s lap. Elizabeth rolled Lydia to her back, and with the last of his strength, Darcy pulled the sword free.
“Lyddie.” Elizabeth caressed her sister’s cheek, but there was no response.
“We must depart now,” the colonel said as he pulled Darcy to his feet.
“Elizabeth.” Darcy reached for her.
“I cannot leave her, William … not like this.” Elizabeth’s eyes pleaded with him to do something.
Darcy turned to his cousin. “Can you carry her, Edward?”
Elizabeth thought it odd that Edward unwillingly agreed.
To where had the amiable colonel gone? “I can carry her long enough to keep her body safe. I will come back for her later.” The colonel hoisted Lydia Bennet’s limp body onto his shoulder as he led the way.
The decaying body of the once-beautiful opera singer and the overturned furniture marked the battle.
In the open again, Elizabeth scurried between the colonel’s steady footsteps, carrying the dangling limbs of her sister, and her husband’s faltering footfall.
In retreat, they were slower than in their advance.
At last, they reached the final field. The inn in sight on the horizon, Edward placed Lydia’s body under a cluster of trees, while Darcy also sat to rest.
Bent over in fatigue, the colonel stated the obvious: “We look bad enough as it is. We cannot go waltzing in with a body slung over our shoulders.”
Darcy and Elizabeth took a close look at each other.
They were all three covered in blood and dirt and sweat; clothes were torn and tattered.
“William, Edward and I departed together. It is best if he and I return at the same time. If anyone asks, I fell down the hill behind the church, and the colonel scrambled to save me.”
“We will freshen up and come back for you.” Exhausted, Edward now leaned against a tree.
Elizabeth knelt beside her husband. “Will you be safe?”
“I have the sword, and a few minutes to rest will do me well.” Darcy touched her face. Like a man starving for what he could not have, he traced her lips with his fingertips. “You will hurry?”
“I will bring you clean clothes. Peters led Wickham on a merry chase, but we should still have time to assist you to the inn.” Elizabeth gently touched his cheek. “Not long, William.”
“Edward,” Darcy said as he turned his attention to his cousin, “make arrangements to send Lydia’s body to Longbourn. It is the least we can do for her parents.”
“Certainly, Darcy.” He turned towards the inn. “Come, Elizabeth, we must make haste.”
She kissed Darcy’s cheek before following the colonel across the field. She ran the few steps it took to catch up with him. Impulsively, Elizabeth’s hand touched his arm. “Thank you, Edward, for everything—for William’s life, for my life, and for my sister’s peace.”
He said defensively, “Your husband saved you, Elizabeth, not I.”
“With your weapon,” she insisted. She was uncertain what had brought on the colonel’s dudgeon, but she held her suspicions.
Although she had to take two steps to every one of his, Elizabeth did not falter.
She would speak to what neither of them had acknowledged previously.
“Edward,” she pleaded, “please do not do this. You knew my marriage to William was not one of convenience. I cannot lose you in my life because of something that cannot be, and I will not be the cause of a rift between you and your cousin.”
He did not respond, but he did slow his pace, telling her in the only way a man of honor could that he would deal with her heartfelt sentiments.
Just before they crossed the stile leading to the inn’s road and courtyard, he caught her hand.
“Permit me to assist you,” he said as he lifted Elizabeth over.
Setting her down gently before him, Edward murmured, “It will all be well, Elizabeth. William remains my best friend.”
“Thank you, Edward.” Elizabeth looked away.
She could not deny her dependence on her husband’s cousin.
Without him, Darcy’s life would still be in danger.
For his efforts, she was eternally grateful, but Darcy was her sun and her stars.
When they reached the inn, always the perfect gentleman, Edward blocked the view of bystanders, sending Elizabeth hurrying to her room before he casually followed.