Betrayal of Innocence (A New Adventure Begins - Star Elite 1)

“I have no idea,” Sir Hugo sighed. “I just know that it is highly unusual for the hierarchy in our organisation to get involved in anything like this, and odd for a man like Weeks to request assistance in this way. I don’t like it, Simon. I don’t like it one bit.”

Simon looked sharply at his boss, but Sir Hugo was already mounting his own horse. Simon looked at the gates of the yard for a moment or two before, with a growing sense of impending doom, went to find his own horse.

“Will you slow down?” the young man chided gently, his eyes alight with mirth.

When the young girl darting in and out of the trees grinned cheekily at him, his smile widened in spite of himself. He shook his head in disbelief. He knew she was going to fall over at some point, but for the life of him couldn’t find the will to deny her the moment to enjoy herself. Not when she looked at him like that, with her eyes alight with an intimately knowing look that stirred up intimate memories. They brought forth a shiver from within him that made him want to venture closer and hold her hand again. Quickly glancing around to make sure they were still alone, he carefully stepped closer. He sighed impatiently when he found the tree Felicity had been standing behind completely empty.

“Where are you?” he called, his voice hushed for fear of discovery.

Silence greeted him. Sighing again, he began to look for her, and swiftly spotted the brilliant blue hue of her skirt peeking teasingly from behind a tree. He tip-toed toward her. When the material vanished, he lunged forward.

“There you are,” he cried only to stare in disbelief when he saw the space behind that tree empty too. “Where are you?”

“Here,” Felicity cried teasingly from a tree only a few feet away. She promptly vanished again, her laughter tinkling merrily around the empty woods.

“No. Here,” she called again from a different tree a few feet further away.

“Don’t go too far,” he snapped, frowning a little when he realised just how staid and boring he sounded even to his own ears. Throwing back his shoulders, he decided that if he couldn’t catch her he could at least join her. Tiptoeing toward the tree behind which she had once stood, he paused and waited. This time, he didn’t call out to her, but let the silence fall instead. He waited. One moment passed, then two, then three.

“Where are you?” Felicity called tentatively.

He smiled and followed the sound of her voice. Darting quickly through the dense vegetation, he shifted from one tree to the next, creeping gradually closer until he circled around her. Closer and closer he drew until he could see her hiding behind a thick tree-trunk. Slowly, he stepped toward her, careful not to disturb any twigs or branches underfoot. When he was right behind her, he leaned forward and blew gently on her ear. She squealed and ducked away from his outstretched arms. He dived after her, his husky chuckle echoing her in

fectious squeal of delight.

They chased around the woods until they struggled for breath. Eventually, when they grew bored with their chase they subsided on a small knoll overlooking the small village of Lunville.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she breathed as they studied the dusky haze enveloping the sleepy valley before them.

He didn’t reply. He wasn’t interested in the buildings over which stood the tall tower of the old Norman church. Without removing his gaze from the delicate curve of her pale cheek, he nodded.

When he didn’t speak, Felicity looked at him. Her cheeks blushed when she saw the predatory look in his eye. There was something in his smile this time that elicited a shiver down her spine. Boldly, she brushed aside the small ripple of unease it brought with it. Instead, she smiled at him, a small knowing curve of her lips that was boldly daring.

“I really must go,” she whispered, even though her gaze fell to his mouth with rampant curiosity he knew he would satisfy before he released her.

“I know,” he replied quietly. “In just a few minutes, though.”

Felicity thought she knew why.

The only sound to break the silence between them was her heady sigh as she was slowly lowered into the lush grass.

Ten minutes later, he rose and stared down at the woman at his feet. With her eyes closed she looked like a porcelain doll. He had seen one once, in a shop window in the posh end of town. The pale cheeks of the lifeless doll had looked very much like the young woman whose body was equally as lifeless - now. He clenched his fists; a small frown on his face. Deep inside, a shiver of something distinctly alarming swept through him, but he refused to look at it. He couldn’t. It was too worrisome and made him feel bad.

With a shake of his shoulders he studied the area carefully but knew they were alone. The hour was late given nightfall was almost upon them. Nobody was going to be out on a cold, foggy night like this. The village now stood in shadow, lit only by the gentle glow of candlelight from a few un-shuttered windows. It was doubtful anybody would have seen them, high atop the knoll. If they had happened to glance out of their windows they would see nothing untoward. He had made sure of that when he had chosen the spot.

With one last look at the body at his feet, he tugged the collar of his jacket up and slowly ambled away. He would come back of course, but he had more work to do before the night was over. Like a wraith in the moonlight, he slid back into the woods which had once housed a warm afternoon of teasing joy, but now stood a haunting echo of what once was. It would never hear the infectious laughter of joyous youth or house an afternoon of frolics between two carefree lovers. Not once the villagers heard of the murder. The woods neighbouring their homes would swiftly gain a reputation for being haunted. Nobody would venture near unless they absolutely had to.

“Well, I have to,” he murmured quietly.

He paused when he heard quiet rustling in the undergrowth a few feet away. Fingers clenching, he scowled and remained perfectly still while he waited. Suddenly, a rabbit hopped out from between the trees. It paused in the middle of the path before him, sniffed the air and waited. Man studied animal. Animal studied man. The rabbit lifted its nose, as if to scent the air. Whatever it scented in him, with a twitch of its tail it scuttled off.

Heaving a sigh, the man watched it disappear before he resumed his journey. It was impossible to go home just yet. Not least because he had to do something with the girl. It was a shame she had had to go. While he had enjoyed the afternoon with her, that laughter of hers had started to grate on his nerves. She had swiftly become irritating, and while he had liked the way she had looked at him, there was something deep within him; an inner voice of menace, that had taunted him, urging him over and over to stop her annoying habit of avoiding him. He hated that. He didn’t like it when people avoided him. He hated it. He hated them.

When the world around him started to fade and become overwhelmed by darkness again, the man glanced about him, his gaunt features fearful. As usual, he felt the same disturbing darkness settle over him, despite his best efforts to keep it away. It was so fetid, so stench-filled that he couldn’t stand it but was helpless to deny anything it demanded of him. He was its servant, it was a simple as that. It was the voice, the horrible feelings that resurfaced that made him do it. It wasn’t him. He knew it wasn’t. It couldn’t be him. He couldn’t ever be so vile; so inhumane as to take another person’s life. It was the voice.

“It’s the voices,” he whispered aloud, as if saying the words would confirm it.

He looked down at his hands and clenched his fists again when he saw how much they trembled. They didn’t feel like his hands anymore. But they were. He just didn’t know what they did, or why. Taking her life had been something he truly hadn’t wanted to do, but he knew he had to. They wouldn’t leave him alone if he hadn’t killed her, just like they had told him to. He knew that for a fact. Every time he had thought about taking another one, and chosen not to, the voices and feelings had grown worse, until he had been forced to take another one so he found the blessed silence that followed.