Hell's Rayne (Book 1)

Chapter 18

“What on Earth is going on?” Frances repeated as her small, yet surprisingly imposing figure entered the room.

The knife had fallen from my fingers and landed with a clatter on the hard floor when I jumped away from Frank's still slumped and cowering body and her eyes were drawn to it instantly; nothing got past those eagle eyes. I could almost see the cogs turning in her mind as she put the scene together. Her mouth gradually dropped open as her eyes slowly flicked from Frank to the knife, the broken table, and finally coming to rest on my statuesque form.

I stood still, frozen to the spot through fear of what I might do if I moved. A heady mixture of anger, frustration and blood-lust still seethed through my veins and didn't much care at who it would be directed as long as I gave it an outlet to escape through. But one tiny, still rational part of me knew that the situation could so easily spiral even further out of control if I let it all loose, and that thought alone was enough for me to keep it reigned back in. Calm, composure, that is what I needed in that moment; I also knew I needed to get out of there, the pub could no longer be my 'safe haven' in the village, I had more than outstayed my welcome.

“My good God, Heather! What do you think you've been doing down here?” Frances shrieked, “look at this place!”

Of course she would be much more concerned about the mess and the expense of the broken table than about the drunk and the knife; if I'd have slit the man's throat she'd have been most concerned about the bloodstains on the floor. I rolled my eyes, from what I'd learned of Frances it really shouldn't have come as a surprise.

Frank too, it seemed, had noticed her seeming lack of concern for his welfare. Even drunk and possessed this bothered him and he was going to remedy that situation; I didn't even need to say a word – which suited me just fine, I wasn't sure I'd even have my tongue under control quite yet.

“She went mad and attacked me,” Frank yelled, suddenly, taking both Frances and myself by surprise. He hauled himself back to his feet and made a slow, unsteady progress towards the landlady, his arms spread wide, imploringly.

With Frances's presence in the room, and a knife no longer pressed to his throat, all fear Frank may have felt earlier had dissipated and he looked out for revenge.

“Came at me like a mad woman she did, had that knife at me throat. Insane, I swear Frances you want to watch out, someone like that working here.”

Frank turned a glance towards me and I saw that flicker of shadow behind his eyes once again as a sinister smile curled his lips. He was preying directly on her worst fears, someone untrustworthy and dangerous encroaching on her carefully controlled life and her precious business – couldn't blame her for feeling that way I supposed, I hated it when someone got in the way of me doing my job. I met Frank's eye as the Whisperer taunted me from behind that glassy grey stare and I knew it's presence there had to be more than just coincidence.

Both Frank and Frances glared at me, accusingly, and all I could do was gaze back, feeling at a complete loss for something to say. I mouthed soundless nothings as I longed for the return of my wit and sharp tongue to cut through the awkward silence.

I shook my head. “This is all getting ridiculous,” I finally managed to blurt out. It wasn't quite the witty repartee that I'd been hoping for but I felt in control of myself and my emotions, even as I threw my hands up in the air in a physical gesture of exasperation.

Frank continued to study me, a little too closely for my liking, as if he were daring me to voice my suspicions and spill the beans about the demonic passenger he carried in his head. I wouldn't give in to that, besides Frances was never going to believe a word I spoke again, why would she buy some outlandish story about demons?