Penmort Castle (57 page)

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Authors: Kristen Ashley

BOOK: Penmort Castle
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“You
bitch!
How
dare
you humiliate me in front of my
friends?” Alistair demanded, getting in another jerk, causing the
rest of the champagne to splash against Nicola’s chest and also in
her face, triggering another now-horrified murmur to race through
the crowd.

Fenella got
close to the couple, her body rigid, she demanded loudly, “Unhand
Mummy!”

Alistair’s eyes
sliced to Fenella and he barked, “This is none of your goddamned
business!”

It was then
Cash arrived at the scene. He moved between Fenella and Alistair,
positioning himself in front of the three sisters, his back to the
crowd.

Even so, his
deep voice carried when he ordered, “Take your hand off her.”

Like a demented
schoolboy who was abusing a toy, Alistair gave Nicola, who was now
fighting his grip on her wrist, another hefty wrench and her entire
body shook with it, so much she nearly came off her feet.

All three
sisters pressed in behind Cash but at Alistair’s action, Cash’s
deadly voice cut through the room. “Take your hand off her,” he
repeated, “
now
.”

Alistair,
clearly mad in the face of Cash’s warning, enraged tone, narrowed
his frightening eyes at Cash. “Who do you think you are? This is
my
wife and
my
house. I’ll do what I damn well please
and I won’t let the bastard son of a Scottish bitch-in-heat stand
there telling me what to do!”

Abby felt as if
all the air in the room was sucked away as, with a vicious tug,
Nicola tore free of Alistair. She stepped aside and Abby watched in
disbelief as Alistair, robbed of one victim, turned his eyes to
another and he took a swing at Cash.

Then two things
happened at once.

One, Cash
easily caught his uncle’s fist in his hand, twisted his arm,
twirling Alistair so his back was to Cash and then he jerked
Alistair’s arm up forcing him to emit an ugly grunt of pain.

Two, Vivianna
Wainwright materialised in the air above Alistair, her dress and
hair drifting and snapping about her. Her eyes, cruel and filled
with venomous hate, were on Alistair.

As the room
went entirely still, Vivianna opened her mouth and screamed.

 

 

Chapter
Twenty-Seven

Showdown, Part
One

 

Vivianna’s
scream filled the room and with it mingled other terrified noises,
muted shrieks and urgent voices.

Then, moving as
one, the crowd shifted, panicked, toward the door.

Except Abby,
Jenny, Mrs. Truman and Kieran who all stood frozen staring at the
scene in front of them.

And Nicola,
Fenella, Suzanne and Honor who were gazing wide-eyed up at
Vivianna.

And finally
Alistair and Cash, both immobile, heads tipped back, Alistair’s
mouth agape, Cash’s jaw set.

Then Vivianna
moved.

She trailed the
length of the mantel, her phantom arm out, melting through the
vases and figurines it displayed. Some of them rocked, several fell
crashing to the floor.

Then she picked
up speed, whipping through the room in a ghostly frenzy, causing
screams from the edges of the crowd who had not yet acquired
escape. She shot through the light fixture hanging from the ceiling
rose in the room’s centre. The fixture swayed alarmingly, the
crystals jingled, dust drifting down.

After that, she
darted forward, toward Cash.

Abby strangled
back a scream and barely checked an urge to dash forward as Cash
released his restraining hold on his uncle. He bent into him,
covering his uncle’s body protectively as Vivianna descended and
made a pass. Abby was so terrified, she didn’t process the fact
that she saw Vivianna’s trailing skirts drifting
over
Cash’s
body, like they were real, not
through
it, like they were
ethereal.

Vivianna’s
speed sent her through the fireplace and she disappeared.

Cash came up
quickly, bringing Alistair with him. He whirled, sending Alistair
flying several feet but he didn’t watch his uncle move.

His eyes
immediately turned to Kieran.

“Get the women
out of here,” he ordered.

“But Abby has
to stay. She has to go up to the gallery.” Only Mrs. Truman would
argue with a Cash Fraser who looked ready – no, more to the point
he looked like he
wanted
to tear someone limb-from-limb.

“Kieran, get
them the fuck out of here,” Cash repeated, his glance going back to
the fireplace, his addition of the f-word boding bad tidings.

“Abby has to
stay!” Mrs. Truman shouted.

Cash’s torso
twisted and he shouted back, “She’s on the ground floor! She’s not
fucking climbing steps when that thing is loose.”

Kieran was on
the move, hustling Abby and Jenny toward the door and they moved
with him quickly as Fenella and Honor guided a stunned Nicola in
their direction.

Suzanne didn’t
move. “I’ll stay with –”

Cash cut her
off with one word, “Go.”

She looked at
him. “Cash, I can help.”

He leaned into
her and roared, “
Move!

At that, as
anyone would, Suzanne moved.

They were
closing in on the exit when Vivianna reappeared, forming in front
of them rapidly, her spiteful eyes on Alistair. Then they swung to
Abby and her gaze was so poisonous the entire assemblage skidded to
a halt upon viewing its venom.

Then without
hesitation she zoomed toward Abby. Fenella let out a choked scream
and before Abby could take even one step back, Vivianna swept low
to the floor, her body swirling around Abby’s ankles and then
up.

Abby stood
frozen, not because she wanted to, but because she was stuck and
even though she told her legs to move, for some supernatural
reason, they didn’t.

Before terror
could fill her all of a sudden an arm hooked at her waist. She was
jerked back and then half-dragged, half-walked backward. Cash’s arm
was about her, his body tight against hers.

Vivianna
stopped her swirl and hovered, eyes narrowed on Cash and Abby.

Or more
accurately, Cash’s arm held protectively around Abby’s body.

Then she opened
her mouth and screamed, the sound far louder and far, far,
far
more terrifying.

“Stop it! Stop
it! Stop it!” Fenella shrieked, hands to her ears then she pointed
one finger at Vivianna who had turned to her and Fenella screeched,
“Why don’t you leave them alone? Why can’t you just
go
away?

Vivianna’s
scream stilled and she aimed a twisted smile at Fenella before she
darted toward her. Abby saw Fenella’s body brace but Vivianna
sifted right through her and then she turned, curling around the
room.

Cash took the
opportunity and moved, half-carrying, half-dragging Abby, he
sprinted toward the door but Vivianna zipped in front of them and
they collided with her.

Abby and Cash
flew backward like they’d hit a wall, bright white and red sparks
bursting from Abby’s chest as they did so.

Vivianna reeled
back as well but caught herself, ready this time for Abby’s
protection, and made a mad dash back toward Abby and Cash. His arm
curved tighter around her, his upper body leaned into hers, forcing
her forward and to the side, preparing to shield her from impact
but before he’d accomplished his task, in front of them the body of
a straight, tall, immensely handsome, see-through man appeared.

When it did
Vivianna’s face became startled and she tried to halt her progress
but she slammed into him and his arms immediately went about her,
imprisoning her in his grasp.

Abby, half
bent, Cash’s chest pressing heavily into her back, her head turned
to the action, stared in stunned disbelief at the ghost of Anthony
Beaumaris, Cash’s father, standing before them, subduing a
struggling Vivianna.

He turned, his
eyes on Cash, and his mouth formed one word, a word heard
shimmering through the air rather than emitting from his lips.

“Gallery.”

Then he and
Vivianna disappeared.

Before Abby
could even begin to process this Cash yanked her up then, with a
hand at her wrist, whirled her around. His fingers still around her
wrist, he pulled her arm out, bent double, released her wrist, his
shoulder went into her belly and she was being lifted. Once he had
her in place, he began running, her torso hanging over his back,
her legs down his chest.

He sprinted
past everyone through the hall. Even though she couldn’t see where
they were going, when she saw they’d passed the stairs she knew he
was heading to the front door.

“Cash, we have
to go to the gallery,” Abby cried urgently, but her voice was
halting as she rocked on his shoulder.

“No fucking
way,” Cash growled back, stopping after he descended the stone
steps of the entry to heave open the door but Abby started
struggling, writhing on his shoulder.

“Cash, your
father said take me to the gallery,” she shouted.

He’d taken two
steps outside when he lost control of her squirming body. She slid
for a second out-of-control down his arm before he caught her. His
arm under her shoulder blades, the other rounding her thighs, he
put her safely to her feet.

Then he grabbed
her hand and started to move.

Abby planted
her feet but her shoes skidded across the stone as he pulled.

He stopped,
spinning around to look at her and clipped, “Abby!”

“Cash, no,” she
cut him off as the others came dashing out of the house to surround
them, “we have to go to the gallery.”

Cash ignored
their audience and bit out, “We’re not going to the fucking
gallery.”

“We have to
finish this tonight!” Abby yelled desperately.

Why she cared
anymore about the end of Vivianna, knowing she and Cash were
through, was a mystery to her.

No, she had to
admit, it wasn’t.

Jenny was
right.

Abby was in
love with Cash. She was in love with him and Penmort was his
legacy. He wanted it and she wanted it for him. All of it. With
none of it controlled by a ghosty she-bitch.

She didn’t have
the chance to sort through the sad fact she was, indeed, in love
with Cash Fraser, International Hot Guy, in love with him enough to
risk her life, because he tugged briskly at her arm.

Abby stayed
determinedly fixed.

“We’ll find
another way,” he declared when she didn’t move.

“There is no
other way,” she shot back.

He leaned into
her and repeated on a shout, “We’ll find another fucking way!”

A different
Scottish voice, this one disembodied, came from behind Cash. “Take
her to the gallery.”

Cash turned and
he, Abby and their entourage stared into the vacant dark.

“Angus?” Honor
called softly.

“Take her to
the gallery,” Angus’s voice, closer and softer now although he
still didn’t appear, encouraged again. “Don’t worry, laddie, I’ve
got your back.”

Cash stared in
the direction of the voice, lips thin, jaw clenched and Abby held
her breath.

Finally Cash
growled, “Something happens to her –”

Angus’s voice
cut him off. “I’ve got your back. More importantly, I’ve got
hers.”

Cash closed his
eyes and sucked breath into his nose. Then his eyes opened and they
sliced to Abby. She watched a muscle leap in his cheek before he
moved toward her.

“Let’s fucking
do this,” he muttered, hand still in Abby’s, he led her back
through the door but once they were inside, he stopped and looked
back at Kieran. “Get them safe, off the castle grounds.”

“We’ll go with
you,” Nicola, clearly having recovered from her shock and morphing
straight into Mom Mode, offered.

“No,” Cash
replied shortly and turned back but he was thwarted again.“Well,
I’m going,” Mrs. Truman proclaimed, Cash came around again and he
and Abby watched as the older woman stomped toward them on her
granny pumps.

“You’re not
coming with us,” Cash stated firmly.

“I am,” Mrs.
Truman retorted, halting and glaring up at Cash.

“No, you are
not,” Cash returned.

She planted her
hands on her hips and snapped, “Yes I am, Cash Fraser. You can’t
tell me what to do. I don’t care how tall you are!”

Abby felt then
quelled the crazed desire to laugh out loud.

“I’m coming
too,” Jenny put in, coming to stand by Mrs. Truman.

“And me,”
Fenella moved forward as well.

“Me too,” Honor
joined the group.

“I am too,”
Suzanne announced, not joining the group but striding confidently
forward, she rounded Cash and Abby and went straight to and up the
stairs.

“Fucking hell,”
Cash muttered and his eyes moved to his uncle. “Can you do one
thing for your wife and get her to safety?”

But alas, at
Cash’s query, Alistair Beaumaris proved he was the Jerk to End All
Jerks.

“You’ll not be
in my house, doing whatever-it-is-you’re-going-to-do, without me in
it,” Alistair announced and stomped forward too, skirting a now
even angrier Cash and heading toward the stairs.

Nicola
gracefully linked arms with Kieran as if they were about to embark
on a moonlit stroll, not battle a she-bitch-from-hell and moved
forward. “Well, it looks like we’re all going.”

“Jesus,” Kieran
mumbled, pained eyes on Cash and everyone shoved in the door,
moving around Cash and Abby and climbing the stairs.

Cash looked
down at Abby and remarked dryly, “You’re racking up quite a debt,
darling, because I think, somehow, you owe me for this too.”

Abby bit her
lip and shrugged but this time Cash did not laugh, chuckle, smile
or even grin. He glared at her so ferociously she gulped at his
scorching look and then he led her toward the stairs.

However behind
them a disembodied male chortle could be heard and Abby knew Cash
definitely heard it.

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