The Crucible of Fear part 5
PART 5
Reverend Timothy watched Sawyer’s return to consciousness with great interest, curious to see what the American would do first. He had heard they could be a bit on the feisty side; would this one prove the stereotype as well?
Tom slowly opened his eyes, his pulse quickening when he felt the presence of something on his face. A gag? Who whacked him so hard? He was talking to.... Forcing his eyes to focus, Sawyer searched the room for the only person who could have hit him from behind. It didn’t take long, his captor was only a few feet away, observing him with a smile.
Timothy laughed at the angry look on the spy’s face, bending down to where Sawyer lay on the floor. “No fierce struggle? I must say I’m a bit disappointed,” he jabbed, grabbing a handful of blonde hair. “Maybe you’re smart enough to know it’s a losing fight.”
Sawyer made no attempts to make a sound, only sending a harsh glare his kidnaper’s way. Feeling the bonds that held his hands behind him, the agent realized he had been tied up with rawhide. If done the right way, the more you tried to get free, the more the bonds would tighten. Testing his theory with a slight turn of his one wrist, Tom had to concede he was stuck for now.
“I’m sure you have all sorts of questions,” the minister talked nonchalantly, pulling the gag down from Tom’s face. “Feel free to ask. We’ll be here a while, might as well make the time pass quicker...wouldn’t you agree?” When the American agent didn’t respond, Reverend Timothy yanked on Sawyer’s hair. “It’s up to you, boy. If you don’t want to talk, you can spend your time screaming in pain. No one is going to hear you down here.”
“Just where is ‘here’?” Tom finally spoke, remembering the tiny walking talker he still had in the inner pocket of his vest. Turning himself to one side, he maneuvered his arm so that it pressed upon the device, hoping it would be enough to transmit to Nemo’s duplicate.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” the minister grinned mockingly.
“You’re the one wantin’ to be all chatty,” Tom shot back. “Besides, how the hell am I goin’ to be able to run and tell anyone?”
The reverend chuckled at his prisoner’s bravado. “I guess one should know where he’s going to die at...”
“Let me guess, after Allan signs the papers that gives Twazul his worldly possessions?”
“Actually, I get to kill you after Allan personally finalizes the rights, which gives you almost two days. After that, everyone is going to suffer and die from a horrible fate, so there will be no one left to morn over your passing.”
“What?” Sawyer lifted his head up in alarm. “What do you mean by everyone?”
Giving the side of Tom’s face a hard tap, the fake minister smiled ferally. “ Eventually, everyone in England.”
“I can’t trust Hyde!” Henry protested hotly. “Do you realize what you’re asking me to do, Allan? If Twazul takes control of my alter ego, everyone in this house is doomed! Including Tom.”
“There’s no damn other way!” Quatermain insisted. “You said so yourself that Hyde won’t help you while you remain in your form. The lad could be anywhere...and if we try the conventional path, it could be too late!”
Captain Nemo rushed up to the two men, his face flushed from running. “We may have a way! Sawyer still has the communication transistor on him, and somehow it’s transmitting a signal!”
“The bloody what?”
“The walking talker,” Skinner supplied, arriving with Gray and Mina.
Positioning the small device in several different directions, Nemo grunted in frustration. “I can hear talking, but it’s too faint for me to make out. He must be somewhere within thick walls.”
“Allow me,” Mina insisted, taking the machine from the captain. With her bat like hearing, she could easily make out the voices and words being spoken. “It’s Tom,” she informed the others, “and...and Reverend Timothy....”
“The minister?” Skinner nearly choked. “Twazul took him too?”
“I think our good reverend kidnaped Tom,” Mina corrected, raising a finger to her full lips for silence. Her eyes widened in horror as she overheard Twazul’s master plan. With the money received from the three combined fortunes, he would create a machine capable of intensifying his mental powers, shredding the minds of every man, woman, and child in Great Britain.
“How could you help him in something so cruel?” Tom demanded, praying inside his friends were listening as well. Even if they couldn’t save him, they had to save all those innocent lives. “The League will stop Twazul, no matter what happens to me.”
“Your spunk is tiresome,” Timothy said dryly, retying the gag, “but expected since you still have the fire of life in you. Let’s see how brave you are when it’s fading.”
“There’s no more talking,” Mina frowned, lowering the walking talker, “and the reverend didn’t reveal anything about the location he’s keeping Tom in.”
His face turning into a mask of hard steel, Allan resumed his badgering of Dr. Jekyll. “No more time for games, we need Hyde!”
“Wait a minute here!” Skinner interrupted, as unwilling as Jekyll to unleash the unpredictable Mr. Hyde. “Let’s think this through.... Ima was talking to Tom down the hallway, then she leaves him alone. Reverend Timothy was outside Allan’s room...”
“I never even noticed him,” Gray recalled. “He could have easily made his way towards Sawyer, while we were distracted by Quatermain’s recovery.”
“And being a so called man of the cloth, our young friend would have lowered his defenses,” Nemo added.
“Not to mention his ‘protection’” Henry threw in. “If this man was under Twazul’s influence, he couldn’t hurt Tom, but I can’t imagine him going anywhere with this stranger either.”
“I don’t think this Reverend Timothy was under any influence,” Mina growled, her eyes glowing red in fury at the devilish deed committed against her young friend. “He was placed here on purpose....willingly.”
Quatermain’s attitude mirrored the vampiress’. “The perfect tool for Twazul.”
While the others spun their theories, Rodney surveyed the upper balcony that housed the majority of bedrooms. Captain Good’s room was on the far left, near the staircase, where Allan’s was on the farthest right. There was three other rooms between the two points....
“He had to have been taken into one of those rooms,” the invisible thief announced, pointing upstairs.
“Bloody hell! He’s right!” Allan suddenly realized, picking up on the rogue’s train of thought. “Someone would’ve noticed the bastard taking Thomas if he tried escaping down the stairs. There’s no where else.” Their hopes renewed, the League bounded up the staircase behind their leader, splitting into groups of two to inspect the three bedrooms in question.
Allan and Skinner entered the room in the middle of the hallway, surprised to see Gerald standing stiffly by the window. “How dare you enter without permission,” he scowled, storming up to the two men. “Get out!”
“I don’t have bloody time for this,” Quatermain barked, landing a hard punch to the younger man’s jaw, instantly downing Ima’s husband without batting an eye.
“Should I be disturbed by the fact you’ve obviously have done that before?” Rodney quipped, viewing the unconscious form at their feet.
“I wouldn’t worry, unless you piss me off,” the hunter muttered, beginning the search of the room.
Dorian and Mina rushed into the room nearest to Captain Good’s, their forward progress stopped by the furious figure of Sir Henry’s son, Robert.
“You presume too much to be wandering around my father’s home without the proper permission!” he snarled.
“Such anger,” Gray smiled coyly, feeling his sword cane under his hand. “You wouldn’t be chance by hiding anything...or someone?”
“When the master comes back, you won’t be so presumptuous,” Robert grinned triumphantly. “And your precious American won’t be able to stop him!”
“Precious is the last word I would use,” the immortal huffed indignantly, inching his blade out, “but he does manage to make himself useful from time to time.” His sword fully unsheathed, Dorian placed it at the tip of the stunned nobleman’s throat. “Let’s see how useful you can be....”
“He doesn’t know Tom’s whereabouts, he’s only following orders to stop us from snooping around” Mina said, placing her hand on top of Dorian’s. “I don’t think he even knows about Reverend Timothy.”
“That nosey minister?” Robert asked in disgust.
“How long has he been here?” Mina queried smoothly.
“About two months too long.”
Sharing a knowing glance with Gray, she urged the aristocrat to lower his weapon. “This is an old castle, are there any ‘special’ hidden rooms by chance?” The vampiress’ began to smile at Robert, her body and face emitting a sensual desire, drawing the young man closer.
Consumed by his manly passions, Robert began to kiss Mina passionately. Her prey in her power, she purringly asked her question again.
One eyebrow arching in mild surprise, Dorian heard the nobleman’s unwilling son divulge the secret, even adding that Twazul knew of the hidden chapel as well. The information was rewarded with a bite on his neck by Mina, making sure to only take enough blood to render Robert senseless.
Licking her tongue over her blood covered lips, the vampire met Dorian’s impressed gaze. “Having sway over human sexual desire does have it’s advantages.”
“You belittle your natural femininity,” Gray commented huskily with a slight bow. “I never had to be ‘swayed’.”
Feeling her temperature rising from the memories of their past flings, Mina fought to compose herself. This was not the time to dwell on a past love, no matter how close that lover was....or how alive those feelings really were. “We have to tell Mr. Q the entry is in the room they’re in.” As the former lovers left, they saw Nemo and Jekyll exit the other room, both pairs meeting right in front of the middle doorway.
“There’s a secret passageway in this room, that leads to a small chapel!” Mina explained, ushering her teammates inside. “It has to be where Tom was taken!”
The room was in shambles, everything that could be moved was cast aside like a turbulent storm had struck, and Skinner and Quatermain were in the thick of it, their faces mirroring looks of futility. There wasn’t any hidden stairs, trap doors, fake walls in a closet....nothing.
Squaring her shoulders, Mina purposely walked up to the fireplace, pushing on the exact stone to activate the doorway. All but Dorian stood in awe as the ‘unmoveable’ object slid over. Quatermain began to rush into the corridor, but Skinner stopped him, mouthing a silent no as he removed any trace of visibleness.
Understanding the strategy, the adventurer nodded in conformation, thankful for the rogue’s quick thinking. In his haste to retrieve Sawyer, he almost alerted the boy’s kidnaper they were on to him. Anxiously he allowed another to go in his place, wishing he could be there for his surrogate son, but knowing it was not feasible at the moment.
“There’s another door that leads to the chapel,” Mina informed the invisible rogue in a whisper, giving him a small kiss on the check before Skinner fully removed his face paint. “Be careful, and find Tom.”
Showing more confidence than he felt, Rodney wiped off the last bit of evidence of his presence. “With a send-off like that, a man can do anything,” he spoke softly.
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Reverend Timothy sat in a chair near the pulpit, sharpening his Bowie knife as he shot glances over at his prisoner. This boy was too calm for his liking. Why wasn’t he showing fear in those eyes? All he saw was anger. He wasn’t silly enough to think his friends could find him? Inspecting his blade, the false minister decided to place some fear into his captive.
“Ever see someone skinned alive?” the pastor asked casually, smiling at the jerk of the blonde head. “Amazing what you can do with the human skin, almost like using animal hides...” He walked behind Sawyer, and grabbing a hold of the American’s shirt collar, he pulled Tom up slightly, placing the tip of the knife under his chin.
“I’m bored quite frankly. Thought you might like a demonstration to liven things up a bit. Give you a peek of what’s going to happen in a day or so.” Seeing the resistance building in the hazel eyes, Timothy laughed. “Now that’s more like it, I knew you had a bit of fight in you.” While keeping the knife in position, he pulled on the agent’s shirt, drawing him up enough for the minister to make a grab around the middle for better control. The blade was temporarily lowered, and Sawyer used the reprieve to strike.
Tom kicked at Reverend Timothy’s shin with the heels of his boots, causing a cry of pain and a loosening of the tight grip. The American spy then lunged to the opposite side, tearing himself free from his captor’s hold. Falling to the ground, Sawyer awaited the expected response, and when the minister came rushing after him in fury, the agent kicked his legs up and behind his pursuer, his bound feet hitting Timothy in back of the calves, knocking him backwards.
A sickening thud echoed in the room as the evil reverend’s head split open on the corner of a pew he connected with. Avoiding looking at the ghastly sight, Sawyer focused on retrieving the Bowie, trying desperately to free himself. The more he moved his hands to better grip the knife, the more the rawhide constricted around his wrists, making it hard to maneuver the blade.
He had to get free, the others still had no idea where he was, and Twazul was moving ahead with his diabolical plan. A faint noise alerted the agent to another possibly coming into the chapel. Was it Twazul? Calming his rapid breathing, Tom kept the knife near his numbing fingers, ready to use it if he could. If it was the dark-hearted bastard, Sawyer knew Twazul couldn’t touch him, and the only one who could was dead.
His eyes narrowing dangerously, Sawyer awaited the opening of the door, prepared to do whatever it took to defeat this newest threat.
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Skinner cursed under his breath when the crusty lock creaked under the pressure of being picked. The slightest noise could give Tom’s kidnaper the head’s up, and surprise was the only weapon he had at the moment. Staying still for a few moments, the thief thought over his possible plans of action. If he only knew where Reverend Timothy was, that would help solve one dilemma. But what if he had his young friend nearby?
What the hell should he do? He couldn’t go charging in without knowing.
Whoever was on the other side of the door was hesitating, Tom guessed. Twazul would have come barging in like a conquering king. Could the others have found him? Scooting over to a nearby statue, the spy used a marble hand protruding from the work of art to work the gag from off his mouth.
“Hello?” Sawyer called out, hoping it was a friend, not a foe. He still had the knife barely clinging in his cold hands, the circulation being cut off from the bonds. Letting out a sigh of relief when he saw the door open with no one on the other side, the spy knew he was safe. It had to be Skinner.
“I let you out of my sight for one second, and look what happens,” Rodney said cheerily, thankful to see Sawyer unharmed and alone. “Where’s that low life who took you?” he asked, whistling when he noticed how tight the spy’s hands were tied.
Tom thrusted his head in the direction of the dead imposter. “Meetin’ his maker.” Wincing when he felt an accidental nick from the knife, the agent turned worried eyes on his friend. “And Allan?”
“Up, around and loaded for bear,” Skinner joked, using one of Tom’s Americanisms. “Sorry ‘bout the cut, that rawhide is about like a second skin.”
“Don’t worry on it,” Sawyer shook his head, using his former gag to wrap around the cut. “How is Captain Good and Sir Henry doin’?”
“Captain Good is up, thanks to you,” Skinner replied, the Bowie knife floating in the air as it came to the agent’s bound ankles. “Sir Henry, well... no one’s seem him yet, but we have been worrying about someone else recently.”
Rubbing his hands together to get some feeling back into them, Sawyer nodded gravely. “We have to break him of Twazul’s hold. He doesn’t have much time left before his body shuts down.”
“Ain’t getting no support from his boys,” Rodney commented, freeing his younger teammate and helping him up.
“Maybe Allan, Captain Good, or even Ima can do the trick,” Sawyer said hopefully, anxious to see his father figure again. Carefully he walked out the door with his invisible friend, looking around in wonder at where he had been taken. A secret passageway?
“Thomas!” The young agent had barely stepped out of the corridor when he was grabbed into a big, impulsive hug by Quatermain. Smiling, Tom returned the fatherly gesture, grateful to see the adventurer back to himself. Soon the others joined in with pats, chorus’ of relief, and in Mina’s case, a kiss to the forehead.
“Did he hurt you, lad?” Allan demanded, doing a poor job of hiding the concern in his voice.
“Not really,” Tom admitted, absently placing a hand in back of his head where Timothy had hit him. When Quatermain pressed gently on the area, the spy winced involuntarily, giving away his injury.
“Dammit, he did hurt you!” the hunter roared, prepared to beat the living hell out of the bastard who dared harm his protege.
“He’s dead,” Sawyer informed his mentor. “We have to break Sir Henry of this mind control, and then we can go after Twazul and finish him off once and for all.”
“You go and have the Captain and Ima help you,” Allan answered, squeezing Sawyer’s shoulder as he turned to leave the room. “I’m going to find Twazul.”
“Not without me.”
“You have a head wound. Besides, I’ve broken Twazul’s hold over me...it’s personal, boy.”
“I’ve never met Sir Henry before, only what I’ve read from the stories,” Sawyer tried to bargain, chasing after Allan.
“Tell him one of those damnable lies, and that’ll get ol’ Henry out of bed,” Quatermain winked half-heartedly. Seeing the blonde agent still shadowing him, the adventurer paused, his face softening a little. “Thomas,” he sighed, “I need for you to stay here and help the others. Twazul will eventually try and use them, but you’re the only one who can stop it. I also want Jekyll to check out that lump in back of your head.”
“I’m fine,” Tom argued. “I think we all need to go after Twazul.”
“Yes, we could all go, but it’ll be the same...you’ll have to stop the others from obeying the twisted images in their minds. It’ll be better to deal with it here.”
“Translation..., I’ll be safer here,” Sawyer muttered, frowning as he crossed his arms.
Chuckling, the seasoned explorer slapped his protege on the back. “Now there’s my smart boy.” Noting the wheels of ingenuity sparking to life behind those expressive eyes, Allan grabbed Tom’s left upper arm. “NO!” he ordered forcibly.
Satisfied he had made his point, Quatermain eyed the others in the room, a silent order given to them in parting. He was doing this alone.
“Then at least take this,” the American spoke quietly, holding the walking talker in his outstretched hand. “The minute it gets to be too much....”
“I’ll call, son,” Allan had to smile, lightly ruffling Tom’s shaggy mass of hair, before turning on his boot heel, and leaving the others standing in the bedroom.
“He’ll be fine,” Jekyll offered Sawyer in comfort, probing the tender lump in back of the spy’s head. “You’re lucky Reverend Timothy didn’t hit you harder. He could’ve done some major damage.”
“Twazul can hurt Allan,” the blonde agent replied worriedly, “or use someone else to do it.” Looking at his teammates, Sawyer knew the adventurer shouldn’t face the threat singly. “Skinner?”
“I’m on it,” Skinner accepted. “I’ll even pinch the walking talker if the old boy won’t listen to reason and use it myself.”
The youth smiled his appreciation, listening to the invisible thief’s bare feet padding on the hardwood floor. At least his father figure wouldn’t be totally alone.
Reverend Timothy watched Sawyer’s return to consciousness with great interest, curious to see what the American would do first. He had heard they could be a bit on the feisty side; would this one prove the stereotype as well?
Tom slowly opened his eyes, his pulse quickening when he felt the presence of something on his face. A gag? Who whacked him so hard? He was talking to.... Forcing his eyes to focus, Sawyer searched the room for the only person who could have hit him from behind. It didn’t take long, his captor was only a few feet away, observing him with a smile.
Timothy laughed at the angry look on the spy’s face, bending down to where Sawyer lay on the floor. “No fierce struggle? I must say I’m a bit disappointed,” he jabbed, grabbing a handful of blonde hair. “Maybe you’re smart enough to know it’s a losing fight.”
Sawyer made no attempts to make a sound, only sending a harsh glare his kidnaper’s way. Feeling the bonds that held his hands behind him, the agent realized he had been tied up with rawhide. If done the right way, the more you tried to get free, the more the bonds would tighten. Testing his theory with a slight turn of his one wrist, Tom had to concede he was stuck for now.
“I’m sure you have all sorts of questions,” the minister talked nonchalantly, pulling the gag down from Tom’s face. “Feel free to ask. We’ll be here a while, might as well make the time pass quicker...wouldn’t you agree?” When the American agent didn’t respond, Reverend Timothy yanked on Sawyer’s hair. “It’s up to you, boy. If you don’t want to talk, you can spend your time screaming in pain. No one is going to hear you down here.”
“Just where is ‘here’?” Tom finally spoke, remembering the tiny walking talker he still had in the inner pocket of his vest. Turning himself to one side, he maneuvered his arm so that it pressed upon the device, hoping it would be enough to transmit to Nemo’s duplicate.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” the minister grinned mockingly.
“You’re the one wantin’ to be all chatty,” Tom shot back. “Besides, how the hell am I goin’ to be able to run and tell anyone?”
The reverend chuckled at his prisoner’s bravado. “I guess one should know where he’s going to die at...”
“Let me guess, after Allan signs the papers that gives Twazul his worldly possessions?”
“Actually, I get to kill you after Allan personally finalizes the rights, which gives you almost two days. After that, everyone is going to suffer and die from a horrible fate, so there will be no one left to morn over your passing.”
“What?” Sawyer lifted his head up in alarm. “What do you mean by everyone?”
Giving the side of Tom’s face a hard tap, the fake minister smiled ferally. “ Eventually, everyone in England.”
“I can’t trust Hyde!” Henry protested hotly. “Do you realize what you’re asking me to do, Allan? If Twazul takes control of my alter ego, everyone in this house is doomed! Including Tom.”
“There’s no damn other way!” Quatermain insisted. “You said so yourself that Hyde won’t help you while you remain in your form. The lad could be anywhere...and if we try the conventional path, it could be too late!”
Captain Nemo rushed up to the two men, his face flushed from running. “We may have a way! Sawyer still has the communication transistor on him, and somehow it’s transmitting a signal!”
“The bloody what?”
“The walking talker,” Skinner supplied, arriving with Gray and Mina.
Positioning the small device in several different directions, Nemo grunted in frustration. “I can hear talking, but it’s too faint for me to make out. He must be somewhere within thick walls.”
“Allow me,” Mina insisted, taking the machine from the captain. With her bat like hearing, she could easily make out the voices and words being spoken. “It’s Tom,” she informed the others, “and...and Reverend Timothy....”
“The minister?” Skinner nearly choked. “Twazul took him too?”
“I think our good reverend kidnaped Tom,” Mina corrected, raising a finger to her full lips for silence. Her eyes widened in horror as she overheard Twazul’s master plan. With the money received from the three combined fortunes, he would create a machine capable of intensifying his mental powers, shredding the minds of every man, woman, and child in Great Britain.
“How could you help him in something so cruel?” Tom demanded, praying inside his friends were listening as well. Even if they couldn’t save him, they had to save all those innocent lives. “The League will stop Twazul, no matter what happens to me.”
“Your spunk is tiresome,” Timothy said dryly, retying the gag, “but expected since you still have the fire of life in you. Let’s see how brave you are when it’s fading.”
“There’s no more talking,” Mina frowned, lowering the walking talker, “and the reverend didn’t reveal anything about the location he’s keeping Tom in.”
His face turning into a mask of hard steel, Allan resumed his badgering of Dr. Jekyll. “No more time for games, we need Hyde!”
“Wait a minute here!” Skinner interrupted, as unwilling as Jekyll to unleash the unpredictable Mr. Hyde. “Let’s think this through.... Ima was talking to Tom down the hallway, then she leaves him alone. Reverend Timothy was outside Allan’s room...”
“I never even noticed him,” Gray recalled. “He could have easily made his way towards Sawyer, while we were distracted by Quatermain’s recovery.”
“And being a so called man of the cloth, our young friend would have lowered his defenses,” Nemo added.
“Not to mention his ‘protection’” Henry threw in. “If this man was under Twazul’s influence, he couldn’t hurt Tom, but I can’t imagine him going anywhere with this stranger either.”
“I don’t think this Reverend Timothy was under any influence,” Mina growled, her eyes glowing red in fury at the devilish deed committed against her young friend. “He was placed here on purpose....willingly.”
Quatermain’s attitude mirrored the vampiress’. “The perfect tool for Twazul.”
While the others spun their theories, Rodney surveyed the upper balcony that housed the majority of bedrooms. Captain Good’s room was on the far left, near the staircase, where Allan’s was on the farthest right. There was three other rooms between the two points....
“He had to have been taken into one of those rooms,” the invisible thief announced, pointing upstairs.
“Bloody hell! He’s right!” Allan suddenly realized, picking up on the rogue’s train of thought. “Someone would’ve noticed the bastard taking Thomas if he tried escaping down the stairs. There’s no where else.” Their hopes renewed, the League bounded up the staircase behind their leader, splitting into groups of two to inspect the three bedrooms in question.
Allan and Skinner entered the room in the middle of the hallway, surprised to see Gerald standing stiffly by the window. “How dare you enter without permission,” he scowled, storming up to the two men. “Get out!”
“I don’t have bloody time for this,” Quatermain barked, landing a hard punch to the younger man’s jaw, instantly downing Ima’s husband without batting an eye.
“Should I be disturbed by the fact you’ve obviously have done that before?” Rodney quipped, viewing the unconscious form at their feet.
“I wouldn’t worry, unless you piss me off,” the hunter muttered, beginning the search of the room.
Dorian and Mina rushed into the room nearest to Captain Good’s, their forward progress stopped by the furious figure of Sir Henry’s son, Robert.
“You presume too much to be wandering around my father’s home without the proper permission!” he snarled.
“Such anger,” Gray smiled coyly, feeling his sword cane under his hand. “You wouldn’t be chance by hiding anything...or someone?”
“When the master comes back, you won’t be so presumptuous,” Robert grinned triumphantly. “And your precious American won’t be able to stop him!”
“Precious is the last word I would use,” the immortal huffed indignantly, inching his blade out, “but he does manage to make himself useful from time to time.” His sword fully unsheathed, Dorian placed it at the tip of the stunned nobleman’s throat. “Let’s see how useful you can be....”
“He doesn’t know Tom’s whereabouts, he’s only following orders to stop us from snooping around” Mina said, placing her hand on top of Dorian’s. “I don’t think he even knows about Reverend Timothy.”
“That nosey minister?” Robert asked in disgust.
“How long has he been here?” Mina queried smoothly.
“About two months too long.”
Sharing a knowing glance with Gray, she urged the aristocrat to lower his weapon. “This is an old castle, are there any ‘special’ hidden rooms by chance?” The vampiress’ began to smile at Robert, her body and face emitting a sensual desire, drawing the young man closer.
Consumed by his manly passions, Robert began to kiss Mina passionately. Her prey in her power, she purringly asked her question again.
One eyebrow arching in mild surprise, Dorian heard the nobleman’s unwilling son divulge the secret, even adding that Twazul knew of the hidden chapel as well. The information was rewarded with a bite on his neck by Mina, making sure to only take enough blood to render Robert senseless.
Licking her tongue over her blood covered lips, the vampire met Dorian’s impressed gaze. “Having sway over human sexual desire does have it’s advantages.”
“You belittle your natural femininity,” Gray commented huskily with a slight bow. “I never had to be ‘swayed’.”
Feeling her temperature rising from the memories of their past flings, Mina fought to compose herself. This was not the time to dwell on a past love, no matter how close that lover was....or how alive those feelings really were. “We have to tell Mr. Q the entry is in the room they’re in.” As the former lovers left, they saw Nemo and Jekyll exit the other room, both pairs meeting right in front of the middle doorway.
“There’s a secret passageway in this room, that leads to a small chapel!” Mina explained, ushering her teammates inside. “It has to be where Tom was taken!”
The room was in shambles, everything that could be moved was cast aside like a turbulent storm had struck, and Skinner and Quatermain were in the thick of it, their faces mirroring looks of futility. There wasn’t any hidden stairs, trap doors, fake walls in a closet....nothing.
Squaring her shoulders, Mina purposely walked up to the fireplace, pushing on the exact stone to activate the doorway. All but Dorian stood in awe as the ‘unmoveable’ object slid over. Quatermain began to rush into the corridor, but Skinner stopped him, mouthing a silent no as he removed any trace of visibleness.
Understanding the strategy, the adventurer nodded in conformation, thankful for the rogue’s quick thinking. In his haste to retrieve Sawyer, he almost alerted the boy’s kidnaper they were on to him. Anxiously he allowed another to go in his place, wishing he could be there for his surrogate son, but knowing it was not feasible at the moment.
“There’s another door that leads to the chapel,” Mina informed the invisible rogue in a whisper, giving him a small kiss on the check before Skinner fully removed his face paint. “Be careful, and find Tom.”
Showing more confidence than he felt, Rodney wiped off the last bit of evidence of his presence. “With a send-off like that, a man can do anything,” he spoke softly.
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Reverend Timothy sat in a chair near the pulpit, sharpening his Bowie knife as he shot glances over at his prisoner. This boy was too calm for his liking. Why wasn’t he showing fear in those eyes? All he saw was anger. He wasn’t silly enough to think his friends could find him? Inspecting his blade, the false minister decided to place some fear into his captive.
“Ever see someone skinned alive?” the pastor asked casually, smiling at the jerk of the blonde head. “Amazing what you can do with the human skin, almost like using animal hides...” He walked behind Sawyer, and grabbing a hold of the American’s shirt collar, he pulled Tom up slightly, placing the tip of the knife under his chin.
“I’m bored quite frankly. Thought you might like a demonstration to liven things up a bit. Give you a peek of what’s going to happen in a day or so.” Seeing the resistance building in the hazel eyes, Timothy laughed. “Now that’s more like it, I knew you had a bit of fight in you.” While keeping the knife in position, he pulled on the agent’s shirt, drawing him up enough for the minister to make a grab around the middle for better control. The blade was temporarily lowered, and Sawyer used the reprieve to strike.
Tom kicked at Reverend Timothy’s shin with the heels of his boots, causing a cry of pain and a loosening of the tight grip. The American spy then lunged to the opposite side, tearing himself free from his captor’s hold. Falling to the ground, Sawyer awaited the expected response, and when the minister came rushing after him in fury, the agent kicked his legs up and behind his pursuer, his bound feet hitting Timothy in back of the calves, knocking him backwards.
A sickening thud echoed in the room as the evil reverend’s head split open on the corner of a pew he connected with. Avoiding looking at the ghastly sight, Sawyer focused on retrieving the Bowie, trying desperately to free himself. The more he moved his hands to better grip the knife, the more the rawhide constricted around his wrists, making it hard to maneuver the blade.
He had to get free, the others still had no idea where he was, and Twazul was moving ahead with his diabolical plan. A faint noise alerted the agent to another possibly coming into the chapel. Was it Twazul? Calming his rapid breathing, Tom kept the knife near his numbing fingers, ready to use it if he could. If it was the dark-hearted bastard, Sawyer knew Twazul couldn’t touch him, and the only one who could was dead.
His eyes narrowing dangerously, Sawyer awaited the opening of the door, prepared to do whatever it took to defeat this newest threat.
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Skinner cursed under his breath when the crusty lock creaked under the pressure of being picked. The slightest noise could give Tom’s kidnaper the head’s up, and surprise was the only weapon he had at the moment. Staying still for a few moments, the thief thought over his possible plans of action. If he only knew where Reverend Timothy was, that would help solve one dilemma. But what if he had his young friend nearby?
What the hell should he do? He couldn’t go charging in without knowing.
Whoever was on the other side of the door was hesitating, Tom guessed. Twazul would have come barging in like a conquering king. Could the others have found him? Scooting over to a nearby statue, the spy used a marble hand protruding from the work of art to work the gag from off his mouth.
“Hello?” Sawyer called out, hoping it was a friend, not a foe. He still had the knife barely clinging in his cold hands, the circulation being cut off from the bonds. Letting out a sigh of relief when he saw the door open with no one on the other side, the spy knew he was safe. It had to be Skinner.
“I let you out of my sight for one second, and look what happens,” Rodney said cheerily, thankful to see Sawyer unharmed and alone. “Where’s that low life who took you?” he asked, whistling when he noticed how tight the spy’s hands were tied.
Tom thrusted his head in the direction of the dead imposter. “Meetin’ his maker.” Wincing when he felt an accidental nick from the knife, the agent turned worried eyes on his friend. “And Allan?”
“Up, around and loaded for bear,” Skinner joked, using one of Tom’s Americanisms. “Sorry ‘bout the cut, that rawhide is about like a second skin.”
“Don’t worry on it,” Sawyer shook his head, using his former gag to wrap around the cut. “How is Captain Good and Sir Henry doin’?”
“Captain Good is up, thanks to you,” Skinner replied, the Bowie knife floating in the air as it came to the agent’s bound ankles. “Sir Henry, well... no one’s seem him yet, but we have been worrying about someone else recently.”
Rubbing his hands together to get some feeling back into them, Sawyer nodded gravely. “We have to break him of Twazul’s hold. He doesn’t have much time left before his body shuts down.”
“Ain’t getting no support from his boys,” Rodney commented, freeing his younger teammate and helping him up.
“Maybe Allan, Captain Good, or even Ima can do the trick,” Sawyer said hopefully, anxious to see his father figure again. Carefully he walked out the door with his invisible friend, looking around in wonder at where he had been taken. A secret passageway?
“Thomas!” The young agent had barely stepped out of the corridor when he was grabbed into a big, impulsive hug by Quatermain. Smiling, Tom returned the fatherly gesture, grateful to see the adventurer back to himself. Soon the others joined in with pats, chorus’ of relief, and in Mina’s case, a kiss to the forehead.
“Did he hurt you, lad?” Allan demanded, doing a poor job of hiding the concern in his voice.
“Not really,” Tom admitted, absently placing a hand in back of his head where Timothy had hit him. When Quatermain pressed gently on the area, the spy winced involuntarily, giving away his injury.
“Dammit, he did hurt you!” the hunter roared, prepared to beat the living hell out of the bastard who dared harm his protege.
“He’s dead,” Sawyer informed his mentor. “We have to break Sir Henry of this mind control, and then we can go after Twazul and finish him off once and for all.”
“You go and have the Captain and Ima help you,” Allan answered, squeezing Sawyer’s shoulder as he turned to leave the room. “I’m going to find Twazul.”
“Not without me.”
“You have a head wound. Besides, I’ve broken Twazul’s hold over me...it’s personal, boy.”
“I’ve never met Sir Henry before, only what I’ve read from the stories,” Sawyer tried to bargain, chasing after Allan.
“Tell him one of those damnable lies, and that’ll get ol’ Henry out of bed,” Quatermain winked half-heartedly. Seeing the blonde agent still shadowing him, the adventurer paused, his face softening a little. “Thomas,” he sighed, “I need for you to stay here and help the others. Twazul will eventually try and use them, but you’re the only one who can stop it. I also want Jekyll to check out that lump in back of your head.”
“I’m fine,” Tom argued. “I think we all need to go after Twazul.”
“Yes, we could all go, but it’ll be the same...you’ll have to stop the others from obeying the twisted images in their minds. It’ll be better to deal with it here.”
“Translation..., I’ll be safer here,” Sawyer muttered, frowning as he crossed his arms.
Chuckling, the seasoned explorer slapped his protege on the back. “Now there’s my smart boy.” Noting the wheels of ingenuity sparking to life behind those expressive eyes, Allan grabbed Tom’s left upper arm. “NO!” he ordered forcibly.
Satisfied he had made his point, Quatermain eyed the others in the room, a silent order given to them in parting. He was doing this alone.
“Then at least take this,” the American spoke quietly, holding the walking talker in his outstretched hand. “The minute it gets to be too much....”
“I’ll call, son,” Allan had to smile, lightly ruffling Tom’s shaggy mass of hair, before turning on his boot heel, and leaving the others standing in the bedroom.
“He’ll be fine,” Jekyll offered Sawyer in comfort, probing the tender lump in back of the spy’s head. “You’re lucky Reverend Timothy didn’t hit you harder. He could’ve done some major damage.”
“Twazul can hurt Allan,” the blonde agent replied worriedly, “or use someone else to do it.” Looking at his teammates, Sawyer knew the adventurer shouldn’t face the threat singly. “Skinner?”
“I’m on it,” Skinner accepted. “I’ll even pinch the walking talker if the old boy won’t listen to reason and use it myself.”
The youth smiled his appreciation, listening to the invisible thief’s bare feet padding on the hardwood floor. At least his father figure wouldn’t be totally alone.