by A.N. Meade
spirit! She is not yours. Give her up from your waters.”
The woman shrieked with an unimaginable tone. It sounded partly human, and partly like some ocean creature. She was furious. The demon reached his arm backward. A great wind rushed toward the woman and threw her backward onto the floor. She climbed out of the window, and was gone. Then, he turned to face Dacian, who looked up at him. His eyes flashed. His pupils were elongated like a cat, and they had taken on an inhuman opaqueness.
“We’re almost finished.” The demon used his finger to write on her thigh. It seared the flesh like a fire brand. “She is marked now. I will follow her, and I will bring her back to you.”
Aimee looked up at Liam, having finished telling him everything. Her eyes welled with the pain of the memory of it.
“Thank you, Aimee. You have told me all I needed to know.”
Her voice was low, and breaking. “Can you help me, Liam?”
“I have faith that I can. I believe that I am the only chance that you have.”
Aimee looked over at Marc. She wondered how he would react to learning what she did. He had always said that her past didn’t matter, but she noticed that he didn’t look her in the eye and it felt like rejection. She wondered if he thought worse of her now. She thought too quickly. He took a moment, glancing out of the large window, and when he looked back at her she knew that she had misjudged him. There was compassion in his eyes. She could feel his love for her. She didn’t deserve it, but she had finally come to accept it. It felt wonderful.
Just then, Enric entered and called out to Liam. “Your friends are here.”
He rose immediately to go down and meet them. Aimee watched them from the window. There were two men who got out of the big black car. They had on dark jeans and black tee shirts under dark overcoats. They reminded Aimee of Liam, which was strange because she had always thought of him as such a unique being. They spoke a moment with one another. His friends must have also possessed Liam’s knowing spirit, because the man in the center glanced up, looking directly into Aimee’s eyes. She drew the curtain in a bit to try and hide herself.
Marc walked up beside her. He held her close and kissed the side of her face. “I should go and meet them.”
“I’ll go with you.”
They were standing in the hallway when Marc and Aimee reached the bottom of the stairs. “Welcome, any friends of Liam’s are friends of mine. You can use the sitting room to prepare. If you need anything let me know.”
“We will, thank you,” said the man at the center.
While Liam sat talking to his friends, Aimee wondered what they were saying behind those closed doors. How much hope was there for her really? Things seemed so severe.
Marc noticed that Aimee was staring toward the parlor doors. He gently pushed the hair back from her face. “They’ll find a way to stop this.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I know, because in all the years that I have roamed this earth I have never seen him interfere in the matters of vampires so actively. He is devoting so much of himself. I have heard stories of the men he called, but I had never met them until today. Some refer to them as the “trinity.” They deal with the darker side of Christianity, things that have faded far out of public conscience over the centuries.”
Aimee was curious, “What sort of things?”
“They understand many things: the passage of the spirit from this world to the next, and the passage of spirits within this world. They are said to have studied demonology, runeology, possession and exorcism, and even necromancy.”
This new information lent a depth to Liam that she hadn’t considered before. His past with his friends, this “trinity”, explained a lot. Liam was very broody. He always seemed to be lost in thought. For every question that this information answered it raised twice as many more.
Aimee was intrigued to learn more, “How did they learn of such things?”
The excitement showed in Marc’s eyes as he spoke. This was clearly a topic that interested him as well. “They learned of it first hand, if you believe in legend. The ancient scrolls are said to tell of them and their workings in these subjects.”
Aimee leaned forward, engrossed in what Marc was saying, “Which ancient scrolls are you talking about?”
“It is the only reputable record of immortals held by men. They are kept in the Vatican, in Rome.” Marc spoke in a whisper.
“I had never heard of such a record.”
“Few have heard of its existence. I once had a great friend in a human priest. He was part of an order of mortal protectors that were in charge of those records kept by the Catholic Church. I learned of the scrolls through him.”
“A human priest seems like a strange friend for someone like us.”
Marc nodded in agreement, “I had saved what was left of his family, he and his younger brother, during one of Damian’s raids. I looked after them until they grew old and passed away.” Marc’s gaze drifted. She could see that he remembered them fondly.
“Why did you save them?”
“To this day, I am not sure. It just felt like the right thing to do at the time.”
Aimee smiled. His compassion and sense of conscience wee some of the things that she loved most about Marc.
Marc paused a moment, and then continued “I learned a lot from him. He joined with the Order shortly after the attack on his village. It was a good place to raise his brother. He helped me to find a sense of peace within myself that I hadn’t felt in a very long time.”
“I wish that I could have met him.”
Marc nodded in agreement, “Yes, you would have shared many long talks I’m sure of spirituality, and humanity, and such things.”
“You have met so many interesting people. You’ve experienced so many things in your travels.” She just stared at him in awe, wishing she had been there to know some of them.
“I hope to share many new adventures with you, once we put the past to rest.”
“I look forward to that very much.”
Aimee kissed his lips lightly. She could not wait until the day that their greatest concern would be their next destination.
A couple of hours passed before the men had finished their business in the parlor. It would not be long until dusk. His two friends went ahead of Liam to prepare the attic space for their ritual. Liam went out into the woods by himself to pray and prepare. By now, Aimee’s hunger had begun to grow. It was the same with Marc, and so they decided to retire with Enric and Natasha before the ceremony began.
Natasha had a great sense of understanding which Marc liked very much. She was a lovely human, to be sure. Her family was of perfect reputation, and proper breeding. It showed in the way that she carried herself. Marc noticed it now, as she crossed the room toward him.
“How are you this evening, Marc?”
Marc released the breath he had been holding. Just as Enric had become a confidant to Aimee, Natasha was to Marc. “My spirit is troubled.”
“You worry about tonight?”
Marc shook his head, “No, I worry for her.”
“Put yourself at ease. You have searched diligently, and waited so long to join yourself to her again. You are meant to be together.” She always spoke with wisdom well beyond her few mortal years. It did help to put his mind at ease to speak with her.
In Aimee’s room, Enric decided to try another tactic with his friend. He did not lead the conversation, but instead remained silent. He undressed to the waist and sat down on the bed. Aimee sat down beside him, and ran her fingers across his torso. It had been a long time since she had fed. He longed for her, just as she hungered for his blood. This aspect of their agreement he had failed to anticipate. He had missed her, craved her, perhaps more than she had even thought of him. A fleeting moment of pain wracked through him, and then gave way to a great wave of pleasure as she fed. He wanted to be there for her, for whatever she needed. At the moment, she needed blood more than discussion. It wasn’
t that he loved her more than Natasha. Natasha was his world. It was more that this was a different kind of relationship altogether. It wasn’t really love, not in the traditional sense. He cared about her, and he needed her. She needed him. It had more to do with other needs that the relationship fulfilled. It was a unique relationship between them. It gave him a greater sense of purpose. It excited him, and it helped him feel complete. After it was over, she cleaned the wound, and wiped the blood from her lips.
Looking at her, he decided to ask what he was wondering. “Are you going to be okay with them tonight?”
“Yes.”
He took her hand. “I am here for you if you need me.”
She knew that he was. There was no pressure when she was with them. Their relationship, no matter how difficult to define, meant equally as much to both of them.
Marc and Aimee met back up by the stairwell leading up to the attic. Aimee took in a deep breath, as they made their way up the stairs, slowly, together. Marc held her had tightly in his. Whatever it was that Liam was about to do would mean a change that would affect them both for better or for worse.
The room was bright with the light of dozens of candles which lined the walls. In the center of the room on the hardwood floor, Liam had marked out in chalk, the Star of David. Salt traced out a circle following its points, and in the middle sat Liam. His feet were folded beneath him, and he raised his arms to shoulder level. His head was bowed as if in prayer. He was turned away from them,
