by E. C. Hibbs
“There is,” said Henry.
“By going back to my homeland? That is the only way,” I bent over as a fresh bout of sobs seized me.
“It is not,” Henry insisted. “Éva, look at me. You can stay here. You don’t need to escape or think of running from this. I know that thought must have come to you at some point; trying to figure out how you could save yourself. But I can help you. Even your Revenant could have helped you, if he hadn’t been so intent on distorting your sweet mind.
“You see, any full vampire can restore a juvenile’s humanity. At the end of this process, you shall come of age: able to produce venom of your own; grow your wings. As a demon, your eyes will also turn completely black, and you become immortal, with the power of the mind. You never wished this fate upon yourself, but it is not the end. I could give you a life free of this. I can turn back the clock; suck the venom from your veins during the final transformation. And you shall never have to think on it again. You can live out your days here, with Benjamin and little Norman. It is not the end.”
I stared at him, unable to believe what I was hearing. Why had James never told me that? All this time, he could have saved me, and he had kept it a secret from me?
“You can change me back?”
“Of course. And I will,” he said resolutely. “Would you want that?”
I wiped at my eyes, feeling a broad smile sweep across my face. “Igen... yes! Yes, with all my heart!” I cried.
But then I hesitated, and held Henry’s hand. “But why did you leave it so long to reveal all this to me? I have been living in this house for over a year now. Why did you not ease my conscience then? Benjamin, when did you realise what I was?”
Benjamin gave a small grimace. “My suspicions were aroused a little before the wedding. I noticed the way you squinted in the light as similar how Father can also react. At first I allowed myself to think it natural, since ladies are not expected to take too much sun, and Margaret would have no doubt drilled that into you. But on the honeymoon, I saw your scar, and then I began to suspect something more.”
“It was at that point when I started watching you properly,” Henry explained. “I caught a strong scent of the Revenant on you during the ceremony. It hadn’t been long before that when there was a disappearance reported in the slums. It did not take much for me to solve the mystery. But I had known there was a demon here already; I recognised the patterns over the years.”
He paused for a moment and stood up with a groan, heading back to his chair. Benjamin instantly moved around so he was closer to me, keeping hold of my arm all the time.
Henry carried on, a soft haunted light coming into his eyes.
“You see, when I was in Crimea, I saw some native demons at work: witnessed them on the fields looking for an easy meal. Upir, they were called. Each country has its own endemic subtypes of demon; here, there is only one: Revenants. But I saw how mercilessly the Upir vampires drained the blood from their victims and left them to die, in a much worse state than if nature herself had simply claimed the poor buggers.
“So I took it upon myself to put an end to their misery wherever I find them. That is why I killed that girl, Éva. And you and the Revenant were still nearby. I could smell you, even if I couldn’t see you. That was all the proof I needed that you were a juvenile, and you had been ensnared by the demon who has claimed this city.”
Henry sighed deeply. “I just don’t understand why he would do this to you. Demons tend to work alone. They have no ties to anyone, especially after they outlive all their loved ones. I can’t see how it would be simply out of good nature.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“What would be the benefit of it?” Benjamin chewed on his lip thoughtfully. “Why should a demon make such a costly sacrifice as looking after a juvenile who he previously had nothing to do with, when it would be so much easier to keep to himself?”
“There is method here,” muttered Henry. “He’s using you for something, Éva. He must have deeper plans for you than to simply take you out on kills.”
“Then how do you explain how I have been without him for so long?” I replied. “It’s a year since I have seen him, in any shape or form.”
I kept quiet about how it had been me who had instigated the break with James, but my question still seemed valid. For as much as I was confused by my cocktail of feelings for him, I couldn’t deny the truth of what Henry and Benjamin were saying. I’d always suspected James thought something else about me, which he had been careful enough to never name.
Had I been correct all this time; had I only been a tool for some unknown purpose he’d planned for me? He had admitted himself that there had been others before me, but what was the reason for that?
Or, on the other hand, could my own desperate hopes about him be real? I fleetingly remembered the way he had kissed me in Sefton Park; the feeling of his arm curling around my back as we sat on the roof of St George’s Hall.
I knew he was a good actor, but at what point did he cross his own line? He’d never said anything explicitly to me about what he felt, yet I still found myself wishing it was something good, after all the bad he had done.
Henry still hadn’t answered me, so I gritted my teeth nervously and continued, changing the subject.
“So you will turn me back,” I said, “but what about him? Is that the real reason why you never revealed all this to me before? Because you were trying to track him through me; hoping I would lead you straight to him?”
Henry raised his eyes in defeat. “Yes.”
“So you could kill him?” I asked, a tense note creeping into my voice.
“Éva, you must understand something.” Henry rested his elbows on his knees. “Usually, demons will form a small territory, and take victims very occasionally: every seven to ten years. They keep them alive and feed off them like a long-term parasite in some hidden place. And I admit that is just as appalling, but it does mean that, on the whole, fewer innocents die.
“This demon acts very differently: similar to the movements of the Upir which I saw. It is not selective, it is purely opportunistic. He has made every single street of Liverpool his territory, and nobody is safe from him. You have witnessed the endless stream of death he leaves, and it will have been happening for decades before you even arrived in England, my dear. I can’t even imagine how many lives he will have taken. Somebody must oppose him and stop this from happening.”
I fell silent. I had a mind to snap at Henry for being so judgemental, as I remembered James telling me about his lonely and abused past. Just the thought of him imprisoned in that tiny cell for ten years was enough to make my heart skip in horror.
It was true that he had undoubtedly committed terrible acts: performed unspeakable evils. But, I reasoned, how can one truly claim to establish a condemnation when the whole story is not laid bare? Like me, James had never asked to be this way. So why was I so deserving of everybody’s praise and unyielding support? Why was it that I warranted a second chance? Didn’t every living thing on earth deserve the chance to simply live, to survive, and endure their own trials in any way they could?
I cleared my throat, but kept my eyes downcast. “I appreciate what you are saying, Sir,” I muttered. “But I simply cannot betray him. I promised. And I... owe him too much.”
“What do you mean?” asked Benjamin, grasping my chin and forcing me to look at him. I gazed at him earnestly, taking his hands in mine.
“My darling, I don’t mean anything,” I replied, feeling the lie bleeding out though my teeth. “But the Revenant did save me. Please accept that. I owe him my life, and I will not repay the debt by being the cause of his death.”
I pulled myself free and turned to Henry. “Sir, if you wish to hunt him, then I cannot stop you. And a large part of me would not want to stop you. But you must do it alone. I would never forgive myself if I aided you in this.”
Henry stared at me for a long time, but eventually gave a single nod of accep
tance, and sat back in his chair. He toyed with his pipe and took a huge drag from it, so the tobacco flared red.
“Fine,” he declared. “I will leave you out of it.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“No. I am the one who should apologise,” Henry said. “I placed you at the centre of a cruel game with the Revenant. I should not have used you like this for so long, sweet girl.”
“Neither of us should have been so secretive,” Benjamin added. “My darling, I am so sorry for all the pain you have suffered. But know I am here for you. The secrets are brought to light; there is nothing shadowy between any of us now. I made a solemn vow at our wedding that I would always take care of you, and to that I hold. Father will turn you back into a human like me. And the demon will never get near you again. I promise.”
He leaned in and kissed me on the forehead; then his lips crept lower until they could shape themselves over mine. I closed my eyes, feeling tears break free as he gently cupped my face in his hands.
“I won’t lose you, Éva,” he whispered. “Never.”
I wrapped my arms around his back and embraced him, pulling myself as tightly to his chest as I could manage.
“Thank you,” I said. “But... there’s just one last thing I don’t understand.”
“What is that?” asked Henry.
I glanced at him. “How am I to survive if not on my own now?”
“By relying on me,” he replied. “Move in a manner of little and often. Take only as much blood as you need every couple of months. There will be no lasting damage. I will show you how to survive like this properly, with much less trauma to both parties. Just until you come of age, and I can reverse it all.”
“That’s how you have done it, ever since your youth?” I said incredulously. “You have honestly never killed for blood?”
“Not once.” Henry swallowed. “Though sometimes I have been forced to take more drastic measures than how the harmless generally favour moving.”
“Like what?” I asked.
At that, Benjamin held his hand before me. “Do you remember, at the Christmas party where we first met, I wore a bandage? Well, that wasn’t from hanging a painting.”
I gaped. “You donated blood for your father?”
“Only when it is impossible for me to get it any other way,” Henry explained quickly. “I can count fewer than ten occasions when I’ve been forced to seek his help, Éva. But I will ensure you never have to.”
“I never would even if I did have to,” I declared vehemently, caressing one of Benjamin’s sideburns with my finger. “The day I hurt you will be the day I am the death of myself. Nothing could make me do that. Ever.”
CHAPTER XXVII
From that moment on, I walked with a new lightness to my steps, feeling as though the overwhelming burden was finally lifted from my shoulders. There was no need for me to hide anymore, and I began to find myself again: that person I had been before all this awfulness began. I saw joy and happiness in the simple things: the way sunlight made visible every single vein in a leaf amid a mosaic of green shades; how a fountain sent dancing ripples across the surface of water. I sat and played with baby Norman for hours on end, telling him stories from the forests of eastern Hungary, about the tree-sprites that flew out of burning wood in bursts of spectacular colour.
I stood before the mirror in the bedroom, wearing nothing but my petticoats and corset, and surveyed myself with a calm air. My hair hung loose down my back, the tips just reaching my hips, shining with a healthiness I had forgotten. Like always, I looked older than I really was: even now at age twenty-one, I held the appearance of someone several years more mature. But the shadow had disappeared from around my eyes; my cheeks looked less gaunt.
My attention went to my neck, finding the brown mole, and then the line of scar tissue. I placed my fingers over it gently. I could almost see the film of corruption Benjamin had spoken of: something not normal to my nature, which had percolated into me as I was forced to adapt to a life outside everything I knew. I had struggled with vampirism, and also with the move to a new country, climbing the social ladder until this moment: the opposite end of the spectrum from my simple existence in Hattyúpatak. After such a constant barrage of things trying to change me, I had adopted a notion that there was no choice in the matter than to accept it and let myself be lost.
But now I could finally see that was not to be my fate. Once more, the spirit of Éva Kálvin was awakened within me, and she reigned free like a bird soaring cloud-high.
Henry gave the revolver back to me with a guarded expression, and I placed it inside a drawer at the bottom on the armoire. There was no need to keep it hidden anymore, just like there was no need for me to sneak out with it concealed on my person.
As promised, Henry took me out one evening to one of the docks, and we hid behind a building while he picked out a target. When he pounced, I instantly felt a jolt of nerves, half-expecting him to move the way James did.
But to my relief, and vague surprise, he simply knocked the man unconscious, made a tiny cut on his calf, and invited me to take no more than four mouthfuls. I complied carefully, and had to stop myself from drinking more, but when I drew away, I found myself satisfyingly replenished. Henry then had his turn, before he pressed hard on the wound to stem the flow. Then he pulled the man’s trouser back down his leg and hid us both in the shadows. We waited until he came to, ensuring he was alright, before making our exit.
I was stunned by how simply and inconspicuously Henry was able to gather his fill. The man we had used would merely presume he’d suffered a fainting fit and gashed his leg during the fall. And my conscience instantly felt a little cleaner in the knowledge that no lives had been taken, or even overly traumatised.
The term ‘harmless’ truly was accurate. How I’d ever believed Henry to be a murder-mad enemy was now a ridiculous notion to me.
Things were made even easier for my peace of mind after Margaret left the city. She didn’t even bother trying to fight us, knowing that in this matter, she was defeated. I could not bring myself to see her off, so I ordered her thirty-five pounds delivered on my behalf the day before she was scheduled to depart.
After the train had whisked her away to Manchester, I presented George with the keys to the house, revealing my surprise to him and Christine. They were amazed, and although they initially tried to refuse, Benjamin and I were adamant, and gave them three days off work to arrange things with their mother. To my relief, we never heard from Margaret again.
Secretly, I also expressed my other reason for wanting so much for them to have the property. I hadn’t forgotten how, after Grandfather’s body was discovered, Christine had fleetingly mentioned that people sometimes went missing from Anfield. Although there was nothing to suggest even to me, that James was responsible, I was taking no chances. I would have certainly refrained from going near the Rose family, but James didn’t know them, and would not behave so selectively if the opportunity came. Even if it wasn’t his fault, I reasoned there was no harm in moving my friends away from the area, just in case.
Benjamin and I took advantage of the time to be together with baby Norman. We spent many hours walking through Sefton Park, me pushing along a wooden pram, my hand tucked securely in Benjamin’s arm. It felt like life had allowed us to return to a simpler way of being; strangely akin to a childlike bliss for each other’s effortless company.
But I immediately went quiet when we passed by a cover of trees close to Weaver House. My mind flashed with a picture of me pressed up against a trunk, pinned in James’ arms, our lips locked together.
Time moved on, leaving summer behind, and autumn came once again to Liverpool. The flowers died away for another season; canopies transformed into an inferno of red and gold. It was now two years since that fateful day when Zíta had handed me the letter from Grandfather; since the Izcacus sent his venom raging through my body.
While Benjamin slumbered beside me, I lay in bed wi
de awake, listening to the hours chime away, and thinking over everything that had befallen me. Then my wanderings flew back to the blurry image of my angel: the mysterious demon that had come to me in the woods. Once again, I focused hard on it, trying to think of any kind of facial features which I may have picked up amid my delirium. But it was to no avail, and I closed my eyes with a frustrated sigh.
The photograph from the christening was printed, and placed beside that of the Kálvin family in an ornate frame on the piano. I often sat there while Benjamin played with Norman; performing Beethoven and Mozart, improvising the occasional Magyar folk song. Then I would retreat to simpler nursery tunes, until my sweet little boy was sound asleep in his cot.
I took my fingers from the keys and let them rest over the locket, tracing the fine engravings of the crest on the front. The pendent was still full of the Hungarian soil, but I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away, even now my salvation was assured.
One weekend in early October, I was in the parlour, working on my embroidery hoop. Henry was opposite me, his entire face obscured by a broadsheet newspaper. A cup of fresh tea was on the table at my side, and rain lashed itself against the window, highlighted by the gas lamps and a flickering fire in the grate. The temperature had dropped alarmingly, and the relentless weather hadn’t ceased for days. In one respect, I was glad, because it made the light a lot less harsh, but I found myself wishing for a return of the long summer days.
I heard the sound of the front door, and then of an umbrella being shaken out, before Benjamin entered the room. He gently tapped me on the arm to get my attention. I glanced up at him, inspecting the speckles of raindrops on his shoulders.
“You’re lucky you didn’t catch your death,” I said. “Are you planning to tell me what was so desperately important for you to go out in that?”
“Now I have confirmation of it, of course I will!” replied Benjamin with a smile.
