Curse of the Lord of Darkness

Curse

of the

Lord of Darkness

Sherile Reilly

www.SherileReilly.com

Copyright 2018 Sherile Reilly

All rights reserved.

EPUB ISBN 978-1-7751177-2-8

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

This book or any portion of it may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Publisher: Saborn Press

Cover Design: The Killion Group

SR181101

www.SherileReilly.com

Curse of the Lord of Darkness

In 1895 Connecticut, Alexander Winslow dreads the midnight hour when darkness permeates his soul, spasms of pain slash his body and hours of torment begin. Afflicted by an ancient family curse, Alex endures a nightly transformation and is doomed to stalk the countryside, searching for prey.

Seeking refuge from her greedy uncle who wants her killed, New York heiress, Victoria Northcote, flees to Connecticut and seeks refuge with a family friend. However, the friend is dead and Alex, the new master, has his secret to guard and he doesn't welcome Vicki.

Alex is intrigued by the captivating woman who is his guest, while Vicki is inexplicably drawn to her mysterious, taciturn host.

Together, they seek how to break the curse, while Vicki’s deceitful uncle continues to threaten her life.

Also by Sherile Reilly

Contemporary Romance

Bringing Jamie Home Trilogy:

Jamie’s Choice

Jamie’s Secret

Jamie’s Gift

Children’s Books

Greg and the Barbarian

Spunky: Tapping into Trouble

Historical Paranormal Romance

The Spirit Keeper’s Seduction

(coming soon)

Table of Contents

Title

Copyright

Also by Sherile Reilly

Dedication and Acknowledgments

Beginning

The Spirit Keeper’s Seduction — excerpts

Dear Reader

About the Author

Dedication and Acknowledgments

For Ed, Mike and Betty Eileen, with love . . .

I’d like to thank the following people for their valuable help with this book: Ed Reilly, Elizabeth Bruerton, Donna Tunney, Adrienne Kerr, Ted Williams, Suzanne Stengl, Diana Cranstoun, Marlene Dunn, Judith Mulholland, Catherine Saykaly-Stevens, Barry Yzereef, Grace Panko and Sylvia.

Prologue

Connecticut 1895

From the library of Winslow Mansion, the grandfather clock tolled the final stroke of midnight. Every clang sent shockwaves of dread through Alexander Winslow. Trying to ignore Lucky, his snarling, but ever faithful half-wolf hound, Alex prayed that this night would be different from every one for the last year—when the curse crippled his spirit and transformed his body.

Sitting on the floor, he slumped against his bed and envied the simple lives of people in the nearby town of Stavely. This Sunday morning they’d awake refreshed and ready for church, as usual. About five in the morning, he’d skulk back to his bedchamber, crawl into bed and try to sleep, hoping to forget another night of hell.

The pain started hard with a crippling spasm slashing his gut. He doubled over while a blast of fire surged up his windpipe, leaving his throat and mouth parched.

Shuddering, he pushed to his feet and stumbled to the bathroom. Drenched in sweat, he soaked some towels and collapsed to the floor, slapping the cold cloths on his burning skin. Shutting his eyes, he savored a few seconds of relief as he cursed his fate. He squeezed drops of water from the towel into his stinging mouth. For a moment the throbbing eased.

In the next instant, tentacles of agony weaved up his arms and branched down the length of his back, jabbing and prickling his skin. He tried to stand but his legs gave way and he fell. Surrendering to the shocks pulsating in his body, he lay on the floor, twitching and knowing he couldn’t remain in the house. It wasn’t safe. He staggered to the door leading from the bedroom to the veranda outside and pushed it open, stumbling down the stairs and onto the lawn.

As he neared the carriage house, his howls pierced the night.

Part One

Chapter One

New York 1895

The game started at the Northcote’s mansion in her brother’s bedroom. Victoria Northcote lifted the hem of the checked gingham housedress and kneeled on the rug. From her drawstring bag, she retrieved a deep blue sea marble and placed it on the floor. Balancing the marble on her forefinger, she eyed the position of her brother’s blood red, swirly patterned marble.

She flicked her thumb. The marble arced, bounced on the wooden floor, rolled and struck Davey’s marble with just enough force to move it a few inches.

I got you, she said, smiling at her seven-year-old brother.

Small and slight of stature for his years, Davey, in his blue denim suit, crouched on the floor, avoiding the carpet that ran down the center of the hallway. Brows furrowed, he looked up at her. I’m going to win, he said.

Her brother was a gentle child who loved his cat, the one she’d bought him a year ago, and playing games with her.

Silly goose. Vicki tousled his brown hair. It’s only a game.

Taking a quick shot, Davey clipped the edge of her marble. It bounced down the stairs and landed with a clunk at the bottom. He raced after it.

Vicki let out her breath as she drew the drawstring on her marble pouch and let her arm drop to her side. For now, she’d succeeded in getting her brother out of his room and preoccupied with a game, away from the gloom that gripped the house since her father’s illness.

Trying to display a carefree attitude, she skipped down the stairs and into the large living hall with the free-flowing connection to other rooms on the first floor. Her father had described it as a truly American style of house.

To her right, Davey sat on the parlor floor in front of the green brocade sofa, biting his lower lip.

When she entered, he looked up tearfully, his voice shaking. When can I see my daddy?

She hurried across the room, sat on the sofa, leaned over and put her arm on her brother’s tiny shoulders. Why did she think one game of marbles would put all his worries aside?

Resting the side of her face against the top of his head, she said, Soon. When Father is feeling better, he will want to see you. For now he needs rest and quiet.

Davey pulled away and scowled. I want to see him, now. His face twisted and when she didn’t reply, he said, Why doesn’t he want to see me?

Of course Father wants to see you, it’s just . . . Words failed her. This past winter he’d played hide-and-seek with them in the house on bitterly cold days. Was she making a mistake in trying to protect Davey from the reality that their father was dying?

She shuddered at the word. It was the truth, although the doctor hadn’t said so outright. She’d read the resignation in his face when he looked at her father and then back at her. His words had been, We’ll do our best to keep Mr. Northcote comfortable.

There was no room for self-pity. For her brother, she’d be strong. Sitting up straight, she said, How’d you like to play a game of hide-and-seek?

He hung his head to the side, his gaze not meeting hers. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nurse Barnes, standing at the bottom of the stairs, tilting her head and indicating that Vicki was needed upstairs. Her heart raced. If Nurse Barnes, the woman she’d hired, wanted her in her father’s room, there’d been a change in his health.

She put one hand on Davey’s shoulder and with the other, she tilted his chin, so he looked at her. His light brown hair fell past his ears and his bangs needed cutting.

Davey, Nurse Barnes wants to talk to me. I won’t be long. She forced herself to smile. Do you remember that new board game I bought for us?

Tiddlywinks. The word brought a little smile to his face.

· · · · ·

Even with the window open, a sour smell lingered in her father’s bedroom. While Vicki crossed the room and approached him, Nurse Barnes graciously withdrew, allowing privacy.

The large mahogany headboard dwarfed the white-haired man sitting up with pillows stuffed behind him for support. His face was drawn and withered, but for the first time in weeks, he was smiling.

Vicki held his hand. His formerly elegant and long narrow fingers were like claws—all skin and bones. His wrists, once so powerful when lifting Davey into the air, were sinews covered with thin skin.

But his smile spoke a different story. Had the doctor given him a new, more encouraging diagnosis? She leaned over, giving her father a kiss on the cheek. His skin was cold and dry to her touch.

Father, you’re back to your happy self. I hope you have good news to share with me.

She glanced at the bedside table filled with medicine bottles, a pitcher of water and a glass, half-filled.

He clutched her right hand and for a moment his grip felt stronger. In the next, it waned and his hand was limp. A shiver slithered down her spine.

My darling daughter. I’ve had the best of news. He coughed and pressed a handkerchief to his mouth.

Vicki reached for the water glass.

He sipped and handed it back to her. She placed it on the table, wishing she could alleviate his pain, but determined to remain positive. Turning to him, she said, Now, tell me what is this good news that has you smiling and making me happy to see your spirit revived?

I’ve been working on something—a surprise for you. Dear daughter, everything is going to be wonderful. My labors have finally come to fruition.

Chapter Two

Vicki sat on the edge of the bed and leaned closer to her father, looking for answers in the pale and blurry blue eyes that only a few months ago had sparkled and been sharp. Once his pride and joy, his thinning hair poked from his pink scalp in scattered strands of wispy-white. Deep lines etched paths from his eyes down his cheeks.

She raised her hands in a gesture of delight, but the word ‘wonderful’ made her shiver. Why, she didn’t know. The only surprise she wanted was for his health to return. Even as the idea tantalized her thoughts, she knew it was impossible, yet his words intrigued her.

You must tell me. What is this wonderful surprise? She let her hands drop on the covers, hoping, but fearing his answer.

He held up a gnarled finger, like a child ready to divulge a secret. First, I have something to give you.

She glanced around. At the end of the room, opposite the bed, was a tall and narrow chest of drawers with a mirror attached on top. The adjoining wall held his wardrobe. Heavy draperies covered the two windows facing the door. Nurse Barnes had pulled them back, securing them with tassels. The opened windows let in light and fresh spring air. Nothing in the room appeared to have changed, except the man in the bed.

She turned her gaze to him. You don’t have to give me anything. The most wonderful gift you have given me is your love, trust and knowledge. What more could I possibly want?

Look in the top drawer of the chiffonier.

Vicki crossed the room and opened the drawer. Inside was a bundle of letters tied with a ribbon. She lifted it out and placed it in her father’s outstretched hand, while she perched on the bed.

He clutched the bundle to his chest. These letters tell about the true meaning of the friendship I had with a fellow soldier in the war.

A cold chill tingled down her legs. The American Civil War ended thirty years ago and had never been discussed in their household. Her mother once mentioned Vicki’s father being in the war as a young man. Why delve into the past now?

His hands shook, but a faint glimmer appeared in his eyes. I want you to know about the loyalty that existed between men in the war and more. I saved the life of a man named Ernest Winslow and he never forgot me. He gazed at the wall. In those horrible days we were often hungry. All we had to eat was hardtack.

If the letters were so important to him, Vicki wondered why they’d never had this conversation before. What possible good could it be to bring up a war where so many had suffered and given their lives?

She chided herself. With her worry over Davey, she was being impatient with her father. If he wanted to relive old memories, she’d listen. He rambled on and then, with sudden energy, he gripped her hand and shoved the bundle at her. I digress from the good news I’ve waited so long to hear.

She placed the bundle on her lap. How could there be any good news?

He spread his splayed hand over his chest and the cords in his neck moved as he swallowed hard. His voice was faint. I never mentioned my brother.

Vicki gasped, but managed to spit out, Brother. You have a brother?

He plucked at the white chenille bedcover, pulling it up to his neck. He grinned at her. He was the black sheep of the family, with a bad case of wanderlust. Much to the frustration of our parents, your Uncle Charles worked at a job for a few weeks and sometimes only for a few days, until—one morning Charlie wasn’t in his room. He left a note saying he’d gone to seek his fortune.

A wayward brother, who left home in the middle of the night—it sounded intriguing. Where did he go?

Eventually to California. His eyes filled with tears. I’m sorry to behave this way in front of you, dear daughter, but my brother, and your uncle, is coming here. After all these years, I’m going to see Charlie again. He sniffed and then blew his nose.

Father, I’m so pleased. Vicki hugged him. With his labored breathing and bony shoulders, she hoped her uncle would arrive before it was too late.

She pulled away.

Her father’s eyes were bleary. Charlie is the answer to all my worries. He will take care of you.

Chapter Three

The next morning, summoned by the housekeeper and doing as instructed, Vicki dressed quickly and proceeded to her father’s bedroom.

From outside the door, she heard his excited voice, plus Nurse Barnes warning him. Mr. Northcote, it is imperative that you do not excite yourself or your visitor will have to leave.

Be damned woman. You won’t send my brother from me. It’s been over thirty long years and the black sheep has finally returned.

He laughed with a sharp, broken noise. Surely such excitement wasn’t good for her father. Vicki burst into the room. Father, are you all right?

She crossed swiftly to his side.

Nurse Barnes lifted a medicine bottle and pulled out the stopper. You must take your medication. I caution you, sir, too much excitement is not good for your health.

Her father flapped his arms. Put that bottle away and don’t be having a conniption fit. Today, I’m right as rain. I’m in fighting form and no one is going to stop me. He raised his fist, defying her.

Then I can’t be responsible for your health. Shaking her head, Nurse Barnes stepped away from the bed.

Vicki stepped closer. Father, perhaps it is best if you heed instructions.

He folded his arms over his chest. And not enjoy this moment.

A man stepped out of the shadows and into Vicki’s sight. She supposed he’d been there all along, but she’d been so concerned about her father that she failed to notice the stranger’s presence.

Although tall and slim, like her father, this man had a lean and strong appearance. The white ruffled shirt was striking against his black suit. A clear glittering stone adorned his black puff tie and a heavy gold chain draped across his brocaded, floral vest.

His neatly trimmed mustache accented his straight, dark brown hair.

When Vicki extended her hand the man, who had to be her uncle, lightly clasped it and kissed the top.

He raised his head and his dark eyes were warm and friendly. It is my great pleasure to meet you, Victoria.

His words were that of a gentleman and he’d obviously been accustomed to politeness and good breeding. She felt a rush of joy that he’d arrived and made her father happy. Dear Uncle Charles, the pleasure is mine as well. My father has spoken of your impending arrival and now you are here.

He gave a slight bow. Rest assured, I am delighted to be here with Jefferson and to meet his daughter. Where is your brother?

How could she have been so thoughtless? Davey would want to meet his uncle. She turned to Nurse Barnes who was sitting in the massive green velvet wingback chair that her father used when he was still able to get out of bed and read.

Nurse Barnes, could you please ask Davey to come here? said Vicki.

When the nurse left, her father patted the edge of the bed. Charlie. Come sit beside me and tell me your adventures.

Excitement laced her father’s voice as he questioned Charlie. You didn’t go into any doggeries. I’ve heard about the swine that condescend to such cheap drinking establishments.

Oh, Jefferson. Get off your high horse. You know me. Since we were kids, I was the one who loved adventure. Certainly, I visited the occasional doggery.

You rascal. What was it like out there?

You mean San Francisco? Uncle Charles’s answer was lighthearted.

Oh, do tell. Lowering his voice, her father said the words like a child asking about a secret. Did casinos and gambling houses line the main streets?

You’re dead right about that, Jefferson. At night the Barbary Coast exploded with excitement. There were dance halls, variety shows and whatever else you wanted.

Both men snickered and Vicki felt like she’d attended a party without being invited.

My game was Faro. Fortunes were won and lost in the matter of a few minutes.

Oh. Her father’s quick intake of breath matched her own. Did you lose a fortune?

I won and I lost.

"Your