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“Yes, Benedict. Oh, he’s more than brooding. I suppose I need to prepare myself for his next high jinks!” Mariah said lightly. She didn’t feel light. Something was very wrong with Benedict, and why Maggie’s sudden interest in him?
They chatted for a few more minutes before disconnecting.
“Benedict? I’m sorry,” Mariah called into the empty bar. She didn’t understand what she was apologising for. But she knew she needed to say it.
Benedict refused to reply, and Mariah felt unwelcome for the first time.
Benedict.
He passed through the dark, cold passages to the cave under the inn. Once it had been used for bootlegging, now it was a prison. As he did once a week, Benedict checked the confinement, holding his prisoner in check and keeping him unconscious. It was unthinkable that he should wake. An evil like his could never be stopped. Worse than the witch his brother had ridden to fight, Benedict knew this creature was unstoppable. Satisfied that the runes and spells were secure, Benedict returned to the upper levels.
He never dared transport here, frightened that it might wake the monster trapped below. No, he entered as a ghost but on foot. And once a month, he shed blood to ensure the spells stayed strong. The Black Cat’s presence in the cave was stronger. It always was down there. A good part of her watched diligently over the sleeping captive. Should one hair on his head stir, she’d alert him. The Black Cat’s vigilance was unsurpassed.
The villagers, Mariah, and everyone around in local towns would sleep safely in their beds each night. For three hundred years, there’d been no risk of danger escaping. Not since the evening he sacrificed his life to save them. It was not something Benedict ever regretted. It was his role as a God’s Scourge, and he’d embraced his end willingly, knowing innocents would be protected. But Benedict was uneasy. Something was in the wind. A change. It wasn’t starting here; there was more afoot. The Black Cat was part of something huge.
Benedict had no desire to release evil upon the world. Whatever was happening could bypass his inn. For Benedict was a Knight of God. He was a man of honour, and he’d keep to his vows and oaths.
Benedict left the dark passage behind with a bitter smile and carefully ensured the entrance remained hidden. Then he made his way back to his bedchamber. But if he paused and checked, Mariah slept safely and soundly; it was only to ensure she hadn’t been harmed.
Benedict looked at his purple hands and sighed. The purple hid the horror of his features from her. And she’d never look at him with fear in her eyes. Somehow, that mattered to him. His thoughts were a mess; Benedict lay down on his bed and closed his eyes. He didn’t sleep, but he meditated. And tonight, he needed the soothing calmness meditation would bring him.
Chapter Four.
Mariah
Mariah was rightfully on guard the next day. She had no doubt that she might have pushed Benedict too far! But at least her heart would be saved. She made some toast and walked into the inn, intending to give it a quick clean. The bulk was done before starting some gardening. Instead, Mariah fell backwards, her hand raising to her cheek as if she’d been slapped.
The atmosphere within the bar was terrible. Always warm and welcoming, now a distinct air of being unwanted hit her. Mariah blinked in confusion before determinedly setting a foot back over the threshold that separated her apartments from the bar. The Black Cat didn’t want her presence and was making no bones about it.
“Get over it!” Mariah murmured as she walked through the bar and straightened a few things before turning to look outside. Two women stood looking at the inn, and Mariah opened the front entrance.
“Hello, there. Sorry, we aren’t open for service yet!” Mariah called out in a friendly tone.
“Oh no. I’m Bea, and this is Melisandre. Mr Evans asked us to visit. We deal with interior design and restorations,” the older woman responded.
“Oh, I’ve been expecting you!” Mariah replied sheepishly. “Would you like to come in?”
“Yes, hi there. This is a beautiful inn. The second such one we’ve seen. We visited the Jekyll and Hyde a few days ago,” Melisandre spoke with a warm smile as she began to enter before pausing. She blinked as the Black Cat blasted her with unwelcome vibes.
“Oh, my!” Melisandre exclaimed, and Mariah felt a sudden worry. Would whatever Benedict was up to now drive away Mr Evans and his team? She didn’t wish to be the owner of an inn she couldn’t open.
“Waverley,” Melisandre murmured, and Mariah twisted her head to stare at her. What was a Waverley? Mariah didn’t have time to wonder as something slapped the Black Cat hard. The three women felt the inn shudder, and the negative vibes disappeared.
“Much better! Thank you,” Melisandre spoke again, stepped over the threshold, and looked around.
“Waverley?” Mariah asked, following behind with Bea chasing after them.
“Did I say Waverley? Sorry, I was thinking of my home for a second,” Melisandre said politely.
Mariah wanted to call her on it. Melisandre hadn’t been considering a house. She’d called upon something. And that mystery item had slapped the Black Cat’s bad mood into touch. Why would Melisandre lie?
“What did you do?” Benedict roared, appearing from nowhere. Bea and Melisandre’s mouths dropped open at the outline of the purple ghost.
“Nothing, Benedict!” Mariah yelled back.
“You did something, you stupid wench!” Benedict accused.
“Not me!” Mariah said, folding her arms and not wanting to admit she knew what had happened. Well, she didn’t understand what Melisandre had done, but she didn’t want to point the finger at the lady.
