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Authors: Lynsay Sands

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BOOK: Born to Bite
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“Are you going to get any other animals?” Armand asked as he started down the stairs.

“No, just the cow for now,” John answered. “I’m working into it gradually.”

Armand nodded, and then sighed and brought up the subject he felt he should most approach while here. As he stepped off the last step, he said, “John, Agnes showed Eshe your blood collection when we were over the other night. I think we should talk about it.”

There was a heavy sigh from behind him and Armand started to turn to face him, and then grunted with surprise as something slammed into his head. He felt himself falling and reached out instinctively to break his fall, coming to a halt on his hands and knees, but then gave a little moan and collapsed into the waiting darkness as he was hit again.

Eighteen

It was full dark by the time Eshe reached the
Maunsell house. As usual the lights were all off, and Eshe’s heart sank at the sight. Not sure what else to do, she pulled into the driveway anyway, glad she had when she spotted Agnes just opening the driver’s side door of the little yellow car parked by the house. The woman paused and glanced toward the SUV with curiosity, unable to see who was driving through the tinted windows.

Eshe parked and slid out to move around the SUV toward Agnes, managing a weak smile in response to the broad one that graced Agnes’s face when she recognized her.

“Eshe,” Agnes greeted happily, getting out to meet and hug her. “What a lovely surprise. How are you?”

“Fine,” she murmured, automatically hugging the smaller woman back as she glanced around. There was no sign of the van or Armand’s pickup and all the barn doors were closed. Forcing a smile, as Agnes stepped back she asked, “Where are John and Armand?”

Agnes’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “I imagine John’s visiting one of the other farms but I have no idea where Armand is. Was he coming here?”

“Yes, John called and asked him to come take a look at a new dairy cow he’s just got. He thought she was ailing.”

Agnes frowned. “We don’t have any cows. Johnny says they’re stupid and useless. We only do agriculture.”

“He said he just got it. Perhaps it’s at one of the other farms,” Eshe suggested, but her heart was sinking again as Agnes shook her head.

“Armand must have misunderstood. The farms are all jointly owned. We both have to sign the checks for purchases and we definitely haven’t purchased a cow.”

Eshe closed her eyes, just knowing she’d been right…which meant Armand was in trouble. Forcing herself to breathe slowly, she tried to calm down and think. After a moment, she said, “Agnes, I need to know if Johnny has someplace he goes alone at times. Somewhere no one else would know to find him.”

Agnes tilted her head and asked quietly, “What’s happening, Eshe?”

She met her gaze and then asked abruptly, “Were you in Europe when Althea died or here in Canada?”

“We went to Europe after Althea and Armand married,” Agnes said evasively. “I told you that.”

“Yes, but were you still there at the time of the fire in the hotel?” Eshe asked insistently.

Agnes frowned. “Why are you asking me this?”

“You were here, weren’t you?” Eshe said, sure it was true, and then cursed and paced away a few steps before whirling back. “John called and told Armand he had a sick cow he needed help with. If there’s no cow, then he’s lured him out for another reason, and I think that reason is so he can kill him.”

Agnes appeared taken aback by the words and began to shake her head at once. “John wouldn’t hurt Armand. He gave us a home for centuries even though Susanna was dead. He treated us like family. He
is
family.” She shook her head firmly. “He’d never hurt Armand.”

“Well, someone has tried to kill us three times. They locked both Armand and me in the shed and set it on fire and then controlled the housekeeper and had her attack me, and then last night the house was set on fire while we slept. Someone is trying to kill us and I think it’s John.”

“Why would Johnny—”

“Because we were looking into all the accidents and deaths that have happened around Armand, starting with Susanna’s death,” she interrupted, knowing it was urgent they get moving quickly.

“Oh dear,” Agnes breathed, and then asked almost plaintively, “Why would you do that?”

“To save Nicholas,” she answered at once.

“Nicholas?” Agnes blanched. “What’s happened to Nicholas?”

Eshe shifted impatiently; they really didn’t have time for this. “I need to find Armand, Agnes. Please, think, is there anywhere—”

“Tell me what’s happened to Nicholas first,” she snapped, showing an unexpected temper.

Eshe paused, but then said, “Annie was murdered fifty years ago and Nicholas was framed for the murder of a mortal. He’s been on the run ever since. That’s why they haven’t been back to visit you.”

“Annie murdered?” she whispered with dismay. “But why?”

“Because she was looking into the deaths of Armand’s wives.”

“Why would she do that?” Agnes cried unhappily.

Eshe shrugged. “I guess she was hoping to find out what had happened in the hopes of getting Armand back in the family for Nicholas’s sake. She loved him.”

“Of course she did…Poor Nicholas, he loved little Annie dearly,” she said on a sigh and then asked, “And you say Nicholas was framed for murder?”

Eshe nodded. “We think it was to prevent his looking into what Annie was investigating. He would have been executed if he’d been caught,” she pointed out. “Instead, he ran and has been rogue for fifty years. That’s why he never visited again and you couldn’t reach him.” She allowed her a minute to take that in, and then added, “I was sent to see if I could find out what had happened…If I can’t, they’ll execute Nicholas,” she added grimly even though she didn’t think that was true anymore. After everything they’d learned and all that had gone on here, she didn’t really think Lucian would execute Nicholas for a murder they were almost positive he hadn’t committed, but she wanted to motivate Agnes.

“The poor boy,” Agnes moaned, and then whispered, “Oh, Johnny, what have you done?”

“He’s murdered four immortal women, one mortal woman, framed the nephew who is like a son to you, and tried to kill Armand and me repeatedly,” Eshe snapped impatiently. “Now he has Armand somewhere, and if we don’t find him, he might very well kill him too. So where could he take him, Agnes? Please, think.”

Agnes looked torn for a moment, and then sighed and turned to move back to her car.

“Get in,” she ordered as she slid behind the wheel.

Eshe didn’t hesitate but hurried around the car to the passenger’s side and slid in. Judging by the surprise on Agnes’s face, the woman hadn’t really expected her to obey her order, but Eshe would have walked into hell to drag Armand out. She loved the man, he was her life mate, and she would go wherever the woman said if it would take her to him.

“You have an idea where they might be?” she asked.

“Yes,” Agnes said quietly as she started the car and sent it shooting up the driveway. “We haven’t purchased a cow, but did buy a new farm a couple months ago. We only got possession last week. Johnny has been interviewing managers for it, but hasn’t hired anyone yet. It’s the perfect place. No one would be there.”

Eshe nodded. That sounded like a likely place to kill someone.

“Why did Armand never tell me about Nicholas and Annie?” Agnes asked, anger in her voice.

“He thought you knew,” Eshe told her. “John said not to bring up the subject around you because it upset you. Armand only found out you didn’t know when I told him after our visit the other night.” She paused and then admitted, “I wanted to tell you then, but I thought I should talk to Armand first. I didn’t know if there was a good reason you hadn’t been told.”

“Oh, there was a good reason,” Agnes said grimly. “Johnny knew I’d never forgive him if I’d found out about Annie and Nicholas.” Her mouth tight, she added, “Rosamund was one thing. She was nosy and wasn’t a life mate to Armand anyway, but Annie was Nicholas’s life mate. She was family and such a sweet girl. And Nicholas…” She shook her head grimly. “He never should have hurt Nicholas.”

“You knew he killed Rosamund?” Eshe asked carefully.

“Yes. He told me, of course. It gave him something to hold over my head. ‘I killed Rosamund for you, blah blah blah,’” she said with disgust, and then cast a dry glance at Eshe. “You don’t know how many times he’s hammered me over the head with that. He uses it every time we have an argument. I ask him to do something for me he doesn’t want to do, and it’s ‘Haven’t I done enough already? I killed Rosamund for you.’ I try to get him to stop drinking, and he blames it on me and trying to forget killing Rosamund for me.”

“Why would his killing Rosamund be for you?” Eshe asked slowly, afraid she already knew the answer.

Agnes shook her head and heaved out a long sigh, then glanced to her with regret. “Please don’t think less of me for this, but John killed Rosamund because she was apparently snooping around about Susanna and Althea’s deaths and he was afraid she’d figure out that I killed them.”

 

Armand opened his eyes slowly, at first only aware of the agony in his head and the cramping in his body. He’d sustained a bad head injury and his nanos had used up a lot of blood repairing what damage they could, but he obviously needed more blood for them to finish the job properly or his head wouldn’t hurt. The cramping was an indication that he needed that blood for more than just repairing his head.

He came to that conclusion and then became aware of other things. That he was in a brightly lit room with a cement floor. That he was seated on some sort of crate, and that his hands were tied behind his back, which wouldn’t be a problem were he at normal strength. Armand could have snapped the ropes with just a quick jerking apart of his wrists then, but he definitely wasn’t at normal strength.

He lifted his head to peer around at exactly where he was and paused as he spotted the man lounging on his own crate across the narrow room from him.

“Johnny.” The name was a disappointed sigh on his lips.

“I’ve been waiting here for quite a while for you to wake up,” John said quietly.

Armand eyed him silently. John sat with his legs stretched and crossed at the ankles, his upper body leaning back against the wall with arms folded over his chest. His pose suggested he had indeed been waiting a while, but he unfolded his arms and reached down to pick up a bottle of water, and then stood and unscrewed the cap as he brought it to him.

Armand drank when he pressed the bottle to his lips. It was warm, but it was wet and eased the dryness in his mouth. What Armand really needed was blood, but he was pretty sure at that point that Johnny wouldn’t bring that to him.

“Why wait?” he asked when Johnny took the bottle away. “Why didn’t you just kill me right away?”

Shrugging, John set the bottle down beside him and walked back to his crate. “I wanted to apologize and explain before I kill you. So you’d understand.”

“Nice,” Armand said bitterly, and then arched an eyebrow. “So, I’m guessing you killed Susanna, Althea, Rosamund, and Annie, as well as framed Nicholas for that mortal’s murder?”

“No.”

Armand blinked in surprise. “No?”

“I only killed Rosamund and Annie, and framed Nicholas,” he explained.

Armand considered that and then asked, “Why?”

Johnny sighed and grimaced. “To protect Agnes.”

“From wh—” Eyes widened with realization. “
She
killed Susanna and Althea?”

He nodded solemnly.

Armand stared at him blankly for a minute, finding that hard to believe, and then said, “I know she didn’t like Althea, but why would she have killed Susanna? Susanna was her sire.”

“Basically, that’s why,” Johnny said wryly and then rubbed the back of his neck and said, “Really it was all my fault.”

Armand sank back in his seat as Johnny told him what had happened all those years ago.

 

“Susanna was your sire, Agnes. She was your sister, she loved you. Why would you have killed her?”

Agnes heaved out a deep breath and shook her head before admitting, “I was pretty screwed up back then.”

Eshe sank back in her seat with disbelief. “That’s your answer? You were pretty screwed up?”

“Well, it’s the truth,” she said helplessly, and then shook her head and said, “You have to understand, I was a nun, Eshe. A bride of God. I was very religious.”

Eshe recalled Cedrick saying that Johnny’s betrothed had been very religious and it had made her unable to accept what Johnny had become. She’d thought him demon spawn and would have run off to tell her father and have him appear with an army of soldiers bearing stakes and torches. She supposed being a nun, Agnes would have been even more religious than Johnny’s betrothed, and that might have made it hard to accept what she’d become. But then why had she allowed Susanna to turn her?

“I didn’t allow it,” Agnes said grimly, obviously reading her thoughts. “I was happy at the convent, I was born to it. No one cared there that my face was pockmarked from a childhood illness, no one cared that I was a little clumsy. They accepted me as I was. I blossomed as a nun.”

“And then you got sick,” Eshe said quietly.

Agnes nodded, and admitted wryly, “I felt horrible every day, worse and worse. But that was okay too. I was going to be with my God. And the sisters all wept for me and prayed by my bed for me to get better, and everyone fussed and tried to cheer me, and they gave me the choicest bits of meat to try to build my strength.” She let her breath out on a little sigh. “But then Susanna arrived, beautiful Susanna with her big smiles and easy charm and her fairy-tale romance with Armand. Everyone fussed over her then. They all whispered to her in the corner, telling her how ill I was. And then she sent them all away and came to me and started to tell me the most fantastical tale. Armand was an immortal. He had made her one and she could make me one too and save me.”

Agnes’s mouth twisted bitterly. “I didn’t believe her at first, but then she showed me her fangs and I was terrified. I told her no, to let me be, I was going to be with my God, but Susanna always did what she wanted and just went ahead and did it anyway,” she said with irritation. “She ripped open her own arm with her fangs and pressed it to my mouth, and when I refused to swallow, she pinched my nose closed so that I had no choice.”

BOOK: Born to Bite
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