Sepia and Silver (Tragic Silence Book 3)

by E. C. Hibbs

  “How long were you in there?” I asked, unable to look away from him.

  “Ten years,” James said. “And I only realised that afterwards. A day felt no different to a month.”

  “Why, what happened? Did they let you go, after they were done with you?”

  “Hardly. We were all demons in the end – the ones they abducted – because they never asked for permission before infecting us with the venom. And I know not a single soul in that place would have given consent even if it were requested. But that’s beside the point. Many came of age, struggled through the transformation, and became Revenants, because that’s the only demonic vampire you can find in Britain. Almost all of them were killed afterwards, so the potential danger was lower for the scientists: stakes were driven through their hearts and their heads cut off. But some were kept alive for further study. That was what they intended for me.”

  The typical cruel smirk returned, and he held his hand up, glancing over it as though inspecting the flesh for some kind of blemish. “But I had other ideas.”

  I swallowed, sensing something terrible was coming. “What did you do?”

  “What all the others should have done,” he replied. “I got through coming of age, became a full demon... God, just remembering it makes me shudder. The pain of the sprouting wings was unbelievable. I wanted to tear myself apart.”

  He made a fist. “I lay on the floor; weak, desperate for blood. They had scarcely given me enough to survive the transformation. So they came in to examine me, and that was when I unleashed myself.

  “I killed them all; drank their veins dry. It was a mad frenzy: a red mist came across my eyes. I was the animal they had treated me as, and I raged through the entire building. Not a single one of those bastards escaped me.

  “Last of all, I found the German. He was cowering in the theatre where I’d first seen him; tried to ward me off with some ludicrous pleading. But it fell on deaf ears. No amount of begging is effective against me. The last thing I did in that damn place was give Bernstein a taste of his own medicine, literally. Then I found my escape, and fled into the streets. I located my brothers again, but they shunned me when they realised the truth. I had no choice but to watch them grow old and die. Since then, I’ve never looked back.”

  I gaped at him, unable to believe what I was hearing. The horrors he had endured were so much worse than anything I could have imagined. My own nightmares paled in comparison to what he must have seen.

  And it now made perfect sense why his demeanour was so cold and insensitive; he would have had to re-learn practically everything about basic life, after a decade of nothing. The experience had imprinted on him: made him the ruthless man I knew. But my heart went out to him, rife with pity. If any demon was completely undeserving of his fate, it had to be him.

  “So you would have been twenty-nine, when it all ended?” I asked.

  “Yes, and time hasn’t given me a single day since,” James replied, a little more airily.

  “You were turned at the same age as me,” I realised. “We were both nineteen.”

  James glanced over. “But this is the difference between you and me, Éva: I do not see coming of age as the end. If anything, it was the beginning.”

  “Then what did you do after you were free?”

  “Nothing much, for a while. At least, nothing worth telling. I felt the hooks digging into me though: that route that so many demons turn down, and tested the waters somewhat. After I was caught in 1812 and hung, I took up residence in Highgate Cemetery; made it my territory for a time. I used to kidnap victims and keep them imprisoned to accommodate myself. But that only lasted for about forty years. I grew out of it. It was too much trouble: the stalking, keeping them alive, making sure they were always hidden and quiet. And... it reminded me too much of what I’d been through.”

  He adjusted his weight on the slates. “Now, let me guess. Are you wondering how I came to be here in Liverpool?”

  I nodded. “Did you grow tired of London?”

  “In a way. I soon knew every single corner of it, from the highest ballroom to the lowest den. I was in Whitechapel for a while. But then I decided to move further afield after the Ripper drew attention to the area.”

  I gasped. “The Ripper? I have heard of him!”

  James raised an eyebrow shrewdly. “What have you heard?”

  “Only that he was a murderer there a few years ago,” I replied, suddenly wary. “Why? Did you know him, or something?”

  “He was a young demon on an early feeding frenzy,” said James. “So now you understand why I fled.”

  I gave a nod. “Yes. It could have drawn attention to you.”

  “It taught me a valuable lesson about being careful who I associate with,” James mumbled darkly. Then he sat up straight and moved his arm. I felt it brush against my back in a fleeting caress. “But that is more than enough about me. Now it’s time for you to answer a question of mine.”

  “Of course,” I replied.

  “Are you still planning on returning to your homeland?”

  I covered my eyes with one hand. “I... don’t think so.”

  “Why not? Doesn’t the prospect of a new beginning appeal to you?”

  “Not anymore.”

  James grasped my chin and forced me to look at him. “Why? I’m inquisitive.”

  “You are controlling,” I said.

  “Yes, that too,” he smirked. “Are you still afraid of the harmless? Still set on diverting his attentions?”

  I shook my head, working myself loose from him. “James, I will only tell you this one last time. I cannot do this anymore. And I mean it.”

  He laughed quietly to himself, taking hold of me again. It was still firm, and he moved closer to me, so I felt the tip of his nose on mine. Our eyes met; I saw my face reflected in the coal-like depths of his. My heart instantly beat faster, conscious of the short distance between our lips.

  “Don’t forget what I will do to you,” he warned smoothly, breath freezing over my skin. “Inspector Hayes is the only one who can protect you.”

  “Please,” I whispered. “Let me go. You must.”

  I put my hand on his shoulder. There was nothing else I could think to say now, except the truth.

  “I am with child.”

  His expression instantly fell limp. He drew back a little, glancing down at my stomach. But I kept a grip on him, not letting go for a second.

  “And I think it’s yours,” I said.

  James stared at me. “That’s impossible.”

  “You told me you weren’t sure demons could bear children. But the fact remains,” I insisted. “This baby may be Benjamin’s, I acknowledge that; yet you cannot deny there is a chance you are the father. It is possible.”

  I pulled myself closer to him, so my forehead was on his. “You talk of living and surviving... I don’t want to just do that. I want to see life made, new life. I want to be a good mother while I can.”

  James was quiet for a long time, not moving. I waited nervously, unsure what his reaction would be. I began to fear that one might not come at all, for better or worse. But then his arms curled around me, anchoring my body to his. One hand snaked between us to rest over my belly.

  “Am I correct in assuming you have been a juvenile now for one year?” he asked gently.

  “Yes, just less than a year,” I confirmed. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “It means that you will likely be safe,” he replied. “I took ten years; there was a girl with me in the cells who was six months. You could come of age any time. But another nine months should be enough, at least. You will see your baby.”

  I gasped with a mixture of joy and relief; though before I could speak, James clutched me tighter. I noticed it wasn’t with the domineering force that I knew was commonplace with him; it was alarmingly akin to how Benjamin held me: careful and affectionate.

  “You’ve earned my silence, Éva,” James whispered. “That’s no
easy feat.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “You got what you wanted. I release you. I will never come for you again.”

  My heart skipped a beat. “Do you mean it?” I asked.

  “Yes.” His hand appeared in my hair. “I’ll not corrupt your life a moment longer. But I still expect you to hold true to our agreement. Never betray me. And know that I will always be watching you.”

  Before I could do anything more, he angled his head and kissed me. It was still hard and demanding, yet alarmingly calm; over quickly and without another word. Then he gathered me in his arms and soared with me across the city, rising up against the glittering sky. I held tightly to him, relishing the wind, and the power of his wings.

  The journey was over too soon, and he deposited me back on the balcony of my bedchamber, perching on the stone balustrade like a living gargoyle. We fixed each other with a deep, penetrating gaze as I walked away, letting my fingers slip from his. I watched him fly away into the darkness; then sneaked inside, locking the window behind me.

  Benjamin was still asleep when I climbed into bed, not having moved a muscle. I looked fleetingly at him, reached under the mattress until I found my old ragdoll. I held her to my chest, staring up at the canopy, beset by the turn of this night.

  I would never spend time with James again. The macabre, sordid hours of murder and sin were all behind me. And I wasn’t sure whether that brought absolute relief, or unspeakable pain.

  CHAPTER XXIII

  Autumn transformed into winter, replacing the falling leaves with flurries of sparkling snow. We celebrated my twenty-first birthday, and held a Christmas party, practically identical to the one I’d attended here the year before, except that now I wore two golden rings on my finger. When Margaret arrived, I had to take a moment to myself, suddenly burdened with the fact that Grandfather would not be with her. I shed tears into Benjamin’s arms, taking comfort from how I was not alone in my sufferings. He and Henry missed Norman terribly too.

  The snowdrops sprouted, followed by daffodils; and pink blossoms on cherry trees across the city. The nights waxed; then waned, bringing returned warmth and colour to the sun. I took advantage of my lack of a chaperone to look after my needs, doing as James had taught me and pulling unsuspecting pedestrians into the shadows. I focused my attentions on people my own age, which would have a harder time resisting.

  But there was one action which I did not copy from my earlier days. I never dealt death. In a vague manner of my own turner, I instead knocked them unconscious, and then drank from their arms, allowing life to remain after I fled the scene.

  Since I was not disposing of evidence, stories of my attacks in the poor areas began to spread, but I was careful to broaden them across the districts. In total, I only took three feedings.

  It was perhaps less than what James would have wanted, but true to his word, I never saw him. I sometimes even found myself at the topmost storey of Weaver House, peering out across the darkened streets for a glimpse of him. I noticed police officers, with their characteristic stiff hats, walking along the pavements, though none of them were the wiry figure of my old companion. For as certain I was that he was still here somewhere, it was as though he truly had vanished from my life.

  But despite everything, time continued to pass, and my belly gradually became rounder, until I was forced to change my wardrobe to accommodate it. When I first started to feel kicking, I all but broke down in tears, now completely sure of the miracle within me. I rushed towards the study to find Benjamin, desperate to show him.

  I raised my hand to knock on the door, but then paused, hearing hushed voices inside. I knew I wouldn’t have been able to pick them up with normal human ears, but now they were as clear as though I were standing right beside them. Unable to quell my curiosity, I turned my ear in their direction.

  “I don’t see why you cannot simply tell her,” my husband was saying. “She’ll find out sooner or later. This is not fair.”

  “That may be, but it is the best way, at least at the moment,” Henry replied. “I want to try and keep the element of surprise.”

  “She is not the enemy! It is not her you seek! Do you not think that if there was any hope of this working, it would have by now?”

  “Patience, son. That is the key. Don’t forget that he will also have learned to bide time, and I am certain he knows now who I am. We are watching each other from the shadows. I cannot be known to make the next move. At least not obviously.”

  “But must you really involve her like this, like some pawn on a chessboard?”

  “I’m afraid so. But it won’t be forever, I promise you that.”

  “Madam?”

  I spun around in alarm at the new voice. One of the footmen was standing behind me with a puzzled expression, which quickly turned to one of apology.

  “Sorry, Ma’am, I did not mean to startle you.”

  “It’s fine,” I said quickly. “How long do you think my husband will be occupied?”

  “Do you wish me to ask for you?” The footman reached for the handle, but before he could touch it, the door opened from the inside, revealing Benjamin. He instantly smiled, smoothing a crease out of his waistcoat.

  “Éva! I thought I heard you out here just now,” he said. “Are you alright?”

  “Yes,” I nodded, thankful that my acute hearing meant I could stand an unsuspicious distance away. I peered over his shoulder to see Henry standing idly by the French windows, pipe clenched between his teeth. He threw me a friendly smile.

  “I’m not... interrupting anything, am I?” I inquired carefully, mulling over their words in my mind.

  “Oh, no,” replied Henry. “We were just talking about an oafish Lady who sometimes sees fit to give us grief. Nothing to worry yourself about.”

  I held his eyes for a moment, but then nodded, not wanting to let suspicion show on my face. I supposed I did believe them; I’d heard the two of them speak in similar manners in such circumstances, when someone decided to play a snide battle of aristocratic wit with the family. It was very likely it was the truth now as well.

  “Madam wishes to speak with you, Sir,” said the footman, bowing before making his leave.

  “What is it?” Benjamin walked over to me. “Is something the matter?”

  “No,” I said, unable to stop myself from grinning. “I felt a kick! Here!”

  Without wasting another moment, I snatched his hand and pressed it to my stomach. After a few long moments, there was a tiny shudder from within me. Benjamin gasped in wonder, eyes shining.

  “Extraordinary!” he announced, voice ecstatic with happiness. “Oh, come with me now!” He took my hand and led me into the parlour, sitting me at a small table. He pulled up a chair at my side, bringing a pencil and sheet of paper with him.

  “We must decide on names,” he said. “Let’s imagine it is a girl first of all. What would you choose for her? Would you like her named after yourself, darling?”

  “Another Éva?” I replied, bemused at his excitement. Then I shook my head. “No... I think I would pick Zíta.”

  “Was that your mother’s name?”

  “My cousin’s. But she raised me. She was my mother, I suppose, to all intents and purposes.”

  Benjamin smiled. “Well, it certainly is a unique name, I must say. As unique as our little darling is sure to be.”

  I nodded in gratitude as he wrote it down. “What about you? Would you want to call her after your mother? What was her name?”

  “Cathy,” said Benjamin.

  “Beautiful,” I grinned. “But it may not be a girl. What if we are blessed with a son? Should we simply exchange the names of mothers for those of fathers?”

  “That was my thinking,” he admitted. “So I would have Henry as a part of it. Though I recall you mentioning how you feel about your own father. What would you do? Would you give the baby his name?”

  I lowered my eyes, thinking for a moment. Then my hand crept towards my b
reast where the silver locket still hung, heavy with its cargo of Hungarian earth.

  “No,” I whispered. “I would give my grandfather’s.”

  Benjamin smiled softly, placing his fingers over mine before kissing me on the lips. “You are the most gracious lady in all England, Éva,” he said. “I’m truly blessed that you belong to me. God knows I would have no-one else.”

  I closed my eyes when he said that. He could lavish me with all the praise in the world, but the fact remained that he was oblivious to my darker side. I was no angel, hardly the pure soul that everyone claimed to see. Would he be so liberal with his affection if he only knew what I was capable of, what I had done?

  I tried to give little thought to the notions of evil, instead focusing on the calendar as the months flicked by. Benjamin’s old childhood nursery was refurbished; new miniature clothes were bought, causing me to fawn over the little bonnets and gowns of lace. Then, one evening towards the end of May, the pains began, and I was hurriedly whisked upstairs to a spare bed chamber.

  Midwives had been on call for a week beforehand, waiting for this moment. They fetched towels and warm water, and shut the door firmly. I imagined Benjamin pacing anxiously outside as they stripped me out of my dress and corset. I was guided into an old nightgown and positioned on the mattress.

  I snatched a nearby hand, gritting my teeth together, working with all my might. Sweat was gently mopped from my brow as I let out a stream of restrained cries. The women muttered comfort, urges, assuring me of my progress. I screamed, unsure how much more I could take. But then, in one blissful moment, it was over, and I heard the unmistakable sound of a crying infant.

  I gasped with joy, an exhausted smile breaking across my lips. I looked up wearily, desperate to see. One of the midwives approached, clutching a linen-covered bundle.