Sepia and Silver (Tragic Silence Book 3)

by E. C. Hibbs

  “I will,” I replied; then saw him out with a timid grin. I shut the door and spun around, pulse instantly heightening.

  Directly on cue, James reappeared, stepping out from the shadows behind the armoire. The wings were gone, but a strange mist was pooling around his ankles in thin grey tendrils. He fixed his eyes on me with a somewhat bemused smirk.

  “You’re a good actress,” he noted.

  I didn’t move, suddenly feeling very vulnerable in my simple nightdress. I hurriedly snatched the revolver again and pointed it at him.

  “Stay back!” I snapped, trying to hold my nerve. “I know what you are!”

  “It wasn’t obvious enough already?” said James. “Do not fear me. I am no danger to you, Miss Calvin.”

  “You lie!”

  “Come, if I was going to kill you then I would have done it by now. I’m not the type to be frivolous with my time.”

  I cocked the gun, but it was an empty threat, and we both knew it. After the commotion, there was no way I was going to shoot – I was certain Norman wouldn’t be so unsure about the noise if he heard it a second time. And I was aware, deep down from Zíta, that a weapon like this would not be enough to kill a dark one.

  “Purely for your own future reference, let me say that you can’t use that in defence from the likes of me,” James said, as though reading my thoughts. “Conventional methods are useless.”

  “What do you want with me?” I demanded, still not lowering the revolver. “Why have you come back? Why didn’t you attack me last night?”

  “Another demon has already beaten me to it,” he replied; then tapped his neck to indicate my scar. “Don’t you know that you are for the same path as me?”

  Horror froze my veins. “What?”

  “You are a juvenile demon,” said James, surprisingly gently. “When you awoke, and I saw the colour of your eyes, I knew. I didn’t realise until I was close. And I can smell it now: the amount of venom in your blood. It is far too much to have been transferred willingly.”

  I felt panic beginning to mount. “What are you talking about? You are lying!”

  James shrugged. “Believe what you want. The end result will be the same if you don’t control yourself, and fast. You will suffer if you fail to do this.”

  I remembered the Izcacus saying something similar just before his teeth sank into my neck. “Are you threatening me?”

  “I’m warning you. Nothing more.”

  “Stop speaking in riddles!”

  James looked at me for a long moment. “Trust me. As a fellow vampire, put your faith in me. You are the only other one in this city besides me; why else would I refrain from acting further when I realised last night you and I were the same? We are alone in a world that cannot understand us.”

  “I am nothing like you!” I cried, angry tears filling my eyes. “How dare you say such things to me! I’ll tell everybody what you are!”

  “No, you won’t,” James said surely.

  “What do you mean; I won’t?” I snarled.

  “Use your brain, Eva, like you did with your grandfather just now.” James crossed his arms in a nonchalant manner. “Who would believe you? How do you catch a nightmare, as you so eloquently claim I am?”

  I hesitated, realising his point with horrid conviction. But then I steeled my mind and kept the gun steady, futile finger still on the trigger.

  “Get out of here,” I said, my voice bordering on a growl. “Leave me alone!”

  James glared at me, and I braced myself, expecting the verbal joust to ascend to a new level. But I was shocked when he raised his arms in defeat and turned away, walking back towards the window. Without even laying a finger on it, the latch rose and the panes opened of their own accord.

  He looked over his shoulder with an impenetrable black gaze.

  “I leave freely,” he said, “but you think on what I said, Miss Calvin.”

  I narrowed my eyes, not moving. James smirked again; then strode out onto the balcony, disappearing from sight. I stayed still for a few moments longer, making sure he was truly gone, before I sprinted over and slammed the window shut.

  I flung the revolver onto my bed and tottered towards the basin to wash my hands. They were shaking violently, and I dropped the soap bar twice while trying to work it into lather. I ground my teeth in anxiety, looking up at the mirror. My attention was instantly drawn to the thin scar over my jugular vein, and I raised a hand to it, finally recalling clearly the strange inky substance that I thought I had seen under my skin.

  I hadn’t imagined it. Something had happened to me. My heart seized tightly in horror.

  Juvenile demon? What does that mean? How could I be...?

  Then I noticed a fiery glow reflecting off the water, and I peered into my own eyes. Once again, the blue irises had transformed a bright red; my pupils dilated to something akin to a nocturnal animal.

  A shuddering breath crept from between my lips and I bent forward, determined to keep my control. Fright quickly gave way to fascination as I explored the scarlet colour, noticing how remarkably different I looked.

  I suddenly realised I couldn’t feel the floorboards under my feet. Frowning, I glanced down, and snatched hold of the basin in alarm. I was a good few inches higher than normal. I was hovering in mid-air.

  I gave a little shriek and instantly plummeted. I was unprepared for the impact and my knees buckled beneath me, sending me sprawling onto my backside. I crawled away until my shoulders hit the wall, overcome with disbelief.

  How had I been in the air like that? It was over before I could really examine what was happening, but I could steel feel the electricity in my blood. It was terrifying. But at the same time, I could not deny that it also thrilled me.

  CHAPTER XI

  A few weeks passed with no further sign of James. His words still ate at my mind, but I determined to not let them get the better of me, and tried to carry on with life as best I could. I practised piano and singing; turned out sampler after sampler; took tea with Norman, Margaret, and Miss Lockwood in the centre of the city.

  There were a few occasions when I felt my eyes changing colour and quickly hid myself, lowering my head or exiting a room as graciously as I could. I learned the redness came with an odd tingling sensation in my head: a subtle warning which I could act upon. I fought against a constant headache, squinting in the strengthening sunlight.

  But it was my throat that gave me the most grief. Ever since the night James came back to me, I felt absolutely parched, as though I hadn’t drunk for days. And despite all the water I downed, day after day, nothing would quell the pain.

  I knew something was very wrong. But I couldn’t think what I might do to help myself. I simply gritted my teeth, and closed my eyes to it. There were no other options available to me.

  In March, a final light snowfall cast itself over Liverpool, covering the streets and hedgerows in a dusting as fine as icing sugar. It was nothing compared to the depths I had seen in Hungary, and I could feel some definite warmth in the air despite the cool wind. But that didn’t stop Margaret from insisting I carry on wearing a ridiculous amount of layers. I obeyed her, but no longer made any secret of how much she annoyed me.

  One day towards the end of the month, I was invited to a friendly meeting with Benjamin. Not having seen him since a dinner hosted by Norman in January, Margaret was insistent that I take up his offer, and steered me to my room to pick out some clothes.

  “I’m not sure I want to go,” I said, standing at the end of my bed.

  “Nonsense,” Margaret replied immediately.

  “I have not been sleeping well,” I insisted, noticing the croak in my voice from my dry throat. “I feel ill.”

  “The fresh air will do you good.”

  “I do not want to.”

  Margaret looked around, her eyes hard. “Watch your tongue. You don’t turn down an invitation like this. Hasn’t anything I’ve tried to teach gone into that thick skull of yours?”

>   “I have learned not to walk in the snow when one feels ill,” I replied with a snap.

  We glared at each other for a few seconds before Margaret returned to the armoire; then tossed something at me with barely-controlled disdain. I inspected the item as I laid it over the mattress, and my disapproval must have shown on my face, because she scoffed loudly.

  “And now you show scant regard for even the clothes on your back? Is all this too good for you now?”

  I cut off another curt response before it could escape, and glanced up squarely, giving a small shake of the head. “Thank you, Mrs Calvin. I can dress myself.”

  “I should hope so. At least that is one improvement we’ve reached,” Margaret muttered, taking herself outside. I stared angrily after her, my hands in fists, before turning to the garment.

  It was a ghastly green thing, with faint pinstripes and buttons from neck to hipline. Norman had bought it for me a few weeks prior, along with some other new spring outfits. But I didn’t want to infuriate Margaret further, since she would be accompanying me through the meeting with Benjamin, and it was one of the most expensive everyday dresses that I owned. So I worked my way into it, re-pinned my bun, and collected gloves and a hat before making my way downstairs.

  We didn’t have long to wait before Benjamin arrived at the house, and after doffing his hat to us, led the way into the streets. I was glad when Margaret and Miss Lockwood hung behind us a little, but noticed how close Benjamin was to me. I wasn’t too sure why he was doing that, though I knew better than to question it.

  We soon arrived at Sefton Park, and the faint songs of birds began to take precedence over the traffic’s clamour. The neatly-pruned trees were peppered with unfurling buds; lines of daffodils and tulips protruded from the snowy fields, marking out the boundaries of their beds. The gravel footpaths had already been laid with salt to make the way clear, and some other couples were walking contentedly in the distance.

  “It’s so nice to have some fresh air after being cooped inside all winter, isn’t it?” said Benjamin, smiling at me.

  I nodded. “Definitely.”

  He chuckled to himself and adjusted his cufflink, before suddenly holding out his arm. I recognised the gesture and slid my fingers into his elbow, letting him lead me on towards the palm house in the centre of the park.

  Blue tits and pied wagtails danced on the breeze ahead of us, and I focused on them, trying to ignore my headache. Over the tree line, I could just make out the tall chimneys of impressive homes, and instantly distinguished one of the more ornate stacks as belonging to Weaver House.

  The sun suddenly swept from behind the clouds and glinted off the palm house’s glass panes. I averted my eyes, only for the light to rebound all around me from the snow. I groaned in pain, raising a hand to my face.

  “Miss Calvin?” Benjamin asked. “Is something the matter?”

  I winced. “No. I am fine.”

  “You do not seem yourself today, if I dare say.” He looked at me, waiting until returned the attention. “Come; let us perhaps go somewhere a little more sheltered.”

  I could hear Margaret tutting behind us, but I instantly felt a warm flow of gratitude towards Benjamin for realising my discomfort so quickly.

  Being this close to his home, I had a thought that he would take us back there for tea. But instead, he ordered his carriage, and we traversed into the city centre, pausing outside a grand old building which Benjamin introduced to me as the Walker Art Gallery. Stepping inside was instant relief, and he fetched me a drink of water before the four of us made our way through the halls of paintings and sculptures.

  As we admired the artworks, I felt Benjamin gently move the arm I was grasping, so we were standing closer than ever. I shot him a confused glance, but he simply returned it with a smile, chocolate eyes shining in the lamplight. There was a strange expression on his face: deep and soft, which I had never seen before, but which twisted my stomach into a peculiar knot. Kindly lines appeared at the corner of his mouth when he spoke, not looking away from me for an instant.

  “Are you feeling better now, Miss?”

  I didn’t reply for a moment, too lost in my own thoughts, but then quickly shook myself back into normality.

  “Yes, thank you, Mr Jones.”

  My throat flared and I spun away. A cough wracked my whole body; I let go of Benjamin, putting a hand across my mouth. He swiftly produced a handkerchief and offered it to me with a concerned frown. I took it, but recoiled when the horrid prickling began behind my eyes.

  “Are you alright?” Benjamin asked; his voice laced with concern.

  I nodded tightly, determined not to look at him. I couldn’t risk anyone seeing the redness.

  When I didn’t speak, I felt his hand appear on mine, and I shot a surprised glance at the contact. But it was short-lived, because my attention instantly latched onto the faint veins branching towards his fingers. My mouth watered.

  No! I screamed silently, forcing myself to remember the sight of James and the Izcacus. You will not give in to be what they are, Éva! Stop this!

  “Miss Calvin?”

  I pressed my lips together until I felt all the blood leave them.

  “I’m fine,” I said, standing upright and straightening my dress. I quickly looked into my palm, checking for a scarlet glow on the leather, and upon finding none, turned back to Benjamin.

  “You’re not,” he replied. “We must get you home. Come on.”

  Without another word, he escorted me down the stairs and back into the carriage, and we made for the house with all speed. When we arrived, he saw me and my chaperones inside, guiding me to settle in my usual chair in the parlour.

  “I’m so sorry for taking you out when you were feeling unwell,” he said sincerely, removing his hat. “I would never have walked you through the snow otherwise –”

  “It’s nothing, Sir,” I insisted with a grateful smile. “I am used to being outside in all weathers from my past, you understand. Snow means little to me.”

  Margaret sniffed unfavourably, but I ignored her, raising my hand for Benjamin to kiss.

  “Thank you for the afternoon,” I said to him. “I earnestly enjoyed your company.”

  “It was my pleasure,” Benjamin replied. “I hope you are well again soon.”

  He bid goodbye to us, before Christine showed him out of the door with a respectful curtsey. I watched him go with a bemused grin; then let my head rest against one of the chair’s wings, absently running my fingers along the locket chain.

  “I hope you’re pleased with yourself?” Margaret snapped, coming to sit opposite me.

  I opened my eyes, still squinting against the sunlight streaming in through the window behind her. It seemed oddly uniform, coming from all directions and relentlessly penetrating. She was shadowed against it, and I struggled to find her facial features.

  “I thought I made it clear that I felt ill this morning,” I muttered quietly in Hungarian.

  “Excuse me?”

  I switched back to English. “I’m sorry the excursion was cut short, Mrs Calvin.”

  Margaret raised her chin. “I should think so. Especially since you are both courting now.”

  I sat bolt upright. “What?”

  “Benjamin and his father are both very interested in you as a wife for him.” Margaret idly inspected her fingernails; then took up a small silver bell from her side table and rang it. “Your grandfather finds the idea agreeable, too, as do I. Christine, make me a pot of tea and cut a sandwich or two.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” Christine replied, having appeared in the doorway at the sound of the bell. I looked around just in time to see her shoot me a tiny smile before heading for the kitchen.

  I stared at Margaret. “You want me to marry Benjamin?”

  “He’s a good match for you,” she said. “Surely you do not wish to become a decrepit old spinster?”

  “Of course not!” I cried, making sure to keep the politeness in my tone. “He
’s a nice young man, to be sure. But I have barely been here for five months, and I wish to remain with my grandfather.”

  Margaret glared. “You don’t have any choice in the matter, I’m afraid. You must do what is best for us. Responding to Norman’s summons is hardly going to be enough to recoup the huge expense he took in locating you and arranging your passage. The Jones family is one of the wealthiest households in the city. Benjamin may have chosen to become besotted with any of the other girls at Christmas. Be thankful this opportunity is yours.”

  I fell silent at that, feeling anger boiling inside me. I narrowed my eyes, the pain beginning to return in my head.

  “For goodness’ sakes, don’t squint like that!” Margaret barked. “You will have premature wrinkles at this rate!”

  I looked straight at her, hiding a fist amid the folds of my skirt. I excused myself, getting to my feet and hurrying out of the light. Margaret watched me go with a somewhat surprised expression, and I didn’t even think to apologise to Christine when I barely avoided crashing into her in the hall.

  I stormed through the door to my room, all but slamming it behind me, and wriggled out of the dress into a more casual garment. Then I drew the curtains across the window and fell backwards onto my bed, holding an arm over my eyes. Every breath came out as a ragged pant, as though I had run for miles. I worked my fingers into my hair and pulled it free from its tight bun.

  “Miss Éva?” a voice asked quietly.

  I sighed, not moving. “What is it, Christine?”

  “I’ve brought you up a cup o’ tea, Miss.”

  “Thank you. Put it on the nightstand.”

  There was a faint rattle of china as she obeyed. “Are you alright? You’re white as death, Miss. Do you want me to ask the Master to fetch a doctor?”

  I shook my head. “No, that won’t be necessary. I think I just need some time alone.”

  “Aye, Miss,” she said, getting the point immediately.

  I heard the door-catch click; then listened to her footsteps disappearing down the stairs before I rolled over onto my side. I curled my legs to my chest; reached out for Mirriam and hugged her frayed body. My gasps became raspier, and I clutched my throat, as though pressure would somehow lessen the soreness. Before I could resist, I lapsed into weakened slumber.