by E. C. Hibbs
Confusion flowed through me. Why was I hesitating? Here was my chance for escape; for vengeance; for freedom. Yet in the demon before me, I suddenly saw a man, who I had felt for and taken comfort in, no matter how awfully. And the expression on his face baffled me more than anything.
“James,” I said instead, “why are you telling me this?”
“You can’t do it,” he declared, with an undercurrent of triumph.
I drew in a shaky breath. “What are you doing? What do you want from me?”
“You shared the kills with me. Your own conscience is far from clean.”
“I know. But that was why I have done all I have since then. I need to know there is still something good in me, something pure!”
“Of course there is. That’s what makes you so perfect,” James smirked. He released his hold on me and I lowered my arm, rubbing my shoulder where it had begun to ache.
“What are you talking about?” I hissed. “Perfect for taking the blame? Just how many have there been like me? How many have given their minds blindly, let you lead them to their deaths?”
James grimaced slightly. “Too many to count,” he admitted. “Though you do know of one. From Whitechapel, eight years ago.”
My eyes widened. “The Ripper? You told me you left London because he would have drawn attention to you!”
“I lost control of him, so if I stayed, his actions would have,” said James. “He was a naive juvenile demon, abandoned as most are. But he refused to listen to me. Does that notion sound familiar, my little murderess?”
Those last words darkened and he lowered his face so it was nearer to mine. I swallowed nervously as our noses tapped together. The mist tendrils wound around the both of us.
“Please don’t,” I whispered, though I was cut off when James angled himself and kissed me. His arms curled around my waist, pulling me close. Like always, it was hard and unyielding, but I was surprised to now sense something like desperation in his movements.
I quickly brought my hands up and pushed him away. “Don’t.”
He sighed; the sound on the edge of a growl. “You’ve done something to me, Éva,” he said. “I may not have it in me to hate you, but you have a part to play for me yet.”
With that, his eyes flickered to the lamp on the wall beside us. At once, it burst into darkness, along with the one at the far side. Then he glared intensely in the direction of the engine. There was a sudden jolt, followed by a deafening screech of metal. The entire carriage shuddered, and sparks flew past the window.
“What have you done?” I cried as James wrenched me into the centre of the compartment. My eyes prickled, turning red with panic. In the flashing light coming from the tunnel, I noticed a smirk on his lips.
“Someone is thirsty,” he said in an undertone.
Realisation slammed into me like a hammer-strike. “No! I won’t do it!”
“This is a familiar argument,” James muttered. “Your voice is awful today. I can tell when you need it. And nobody is down here to stop us. I counted forty-one people on this train before we left. Forty-one throats...”
“I won’t do it!” I snapped again, showing my teeth. “And don’t you dare go near Benjamin, or I will kill you!”
James sniggered as the train slowed and drew to a halt. “That’s more like it.”
For a moment, there was silence, but then I began to hear commotion outside as people came to investigate what had happened. Over the clamour, a guard proclaimed that the engine had derailed and to please remain calm. Then came another voice, which I recognised as belonging to my husband.
“Éva!” it shouted. “Éva, where are you?”
I drew in a breath to warn him off, but James pulled me around and kissed me again. His hand appeared on my bun, holding me there. I tried to resist, but he kept a firm grasp, his other arm still around my waist.
“Stop this!” I barked, managing to shove myself away a little.
“Éva?” Benjamin called, obviously having heard me.
Before I could do anything more, the compartment door rattled open, revealing him with George in tow. He stopped short when he saw me, still in James’s clutches, a slack expression on his face.
“Benjamin, get away from here!” I shouted, wrenching vainly to free myself.
“Good evening, Mr Jones,” James said with an air of cynical politeness. “A terrible shame your journey has been cut short like this.”
Benjamin’s brows immediately lowered into a fierce slant. “Let go of her, demon.”
“Oh dear,” James tutted. “An empty threat. Isn’t it a pity you don’t know my name?”
“Don’t make me use it!” I hissed quietly, words wheezing with dry need.
James chuckled to himself; then abruptly spun me around so my back was to him, and grasped the front of my throat, forcing me to look at Benjamin. My husband’s eyes grew wide with horror; behind him, George’s cheeks turned white. I realised my irises were still red; this was the first time he had ever witnessed me in the vampiric state.
“Can’t you almost see it?” James murmured in my ear. “Imagine it, all that wonderful blood, just in front of you.”
I turned my face away in repulsion, struggling not to cry. I could feel the thin skin of my control quivering, almost ready to rupture beneath the strain.
Call his name! My mind raged. Éva, shout the name!
Benjamin suddenly sprung into the compartment, his cane raised at James’s head. James threw me onto one of the seats so I wouldn’t be struck. The two men grappled momentarily with each other, but then Benjamin flew backwards and hit the window, hands above his head. The glass splintered from the impact, and his eyes fluttered shut, a red trail beginning to run through his hair.
My entire body went into shock. I saw James heading towards Benjamin, his mouth open, revealing his fangs.
I leapt at him with such fervour; I pushed him off his feet, and hissed at him like an incensed creature.
“Hagyja békén!” I screamed. Leave him alone!
James glowered at me. “That’s it, Éva Kálvin, let it out! Be what you are!”
The smell of blood made me turn back to Benjamin. He’d slumped to the floor now, released from James’s hold, and wasn’t moving.
Fighting every single drop of the appalling venom within me, I flung myself next to him, cradling his head, trying to ignore the wound. My heart pounded with terror as I checked him for a pulse.
“Benjamin?” I cried, tears overflowing. “Benjamin, wake up! Please!”
George appeared beside me, struggling to see in the near-darkness. The lamps flickered temporarily as the guards worked to restore power. I recoiled from the bursts of light, but kept my attention on my husband, tapping his face in desperation. My irises returned to normal as I finally noticed him breathing.
“What the hell was that?” George demanded, his hands trembling violently. “What are you?”
“Do not be scared!” I pleaded through my sobs. “I’m so sorry!”
I could just make out his face, blank with fright. I’d never seen him like this before, and my stomach turned over to think that all that fear was directed at me: the girl who he’d collected from the docks; who he’d given away at her wedding.
“George, I’m sorry!” I said again, but my voice trailed off into a snarl. Barely aware anymore, a haze descended over me, and the entire world spun. I felt as though I was on board the ship again, swaying with the waves. My head hammered with tense pain, and I couldn’t hold it in for another moment. I exposed my teeth, battling with my resolve, wishing I could tear myself apart.
The scent of Benjamin’s blood overcame me. I wanted it; needed it, more than anything else. I had to drink, now.
I lunged, mad with necessity. I felt warm skin; crushed through it powerfully, moaned with relief as the sweet liquid flowed into my mouth. I didn’t waste a single second, gulping it down, caught in a frantic fit for every last drop. I was vaguely aware of hands trying to pul
l me off, but I held firm, and they rapidly fell limp. When I could draw no more, I moved away, just as the lights flared back into life.
I gasped out with horror. Benjamin was untouched – but George lay limp in the middle of the floor, eyes flat and blank, throat absolutely destroyed. I could see the rings of his windpipe plainly around the torn flesh.
I looked over my shoulder for James, only to find an empty seat. He had disappeared, leaving me alone, with no trace. I went to wipe the wetness off my lips, but then my gaze caught sight of my hands and I froze.
They were covered with blood. And I wasn’t imagining it this time.
“No...” I whimpered, shaking my head hysterically. “God, no!”
There were sudden cries from the side, and I spun around to see a couple of guards at the door to the compartment. They surveyed the carnage with clear repulsion, eyes so wide, I could see all the white areas. I stuttered, going to defend myself, but no words came. How could I possibly explain this?
“Mrs Jones?” one of the guards said in astonishment. “It can’t be...”
I held my hands out imploringly, but that only caused them to recoil. “Please, this isn’t... I mean... I didn’t...”
“Murder!” muttered the second guard. “Police... Police! Here, quickly!”
“No, please!” I protested, but cut myself off when the officer appeared.
It was none other than my dark companion, the stiff hat on his head, body devoid of any mist. He gaped at the sight, feigning complete ignorance.
“Good God!” James gasped, gaze wavering between George and Benjamin. Then he saw my soiled hands; called down the corridor for backup. A few more policemen arrived, aghast.
James looked at me as though we had never met. “Arrest her.”
“No... Nem!” I screamed when the other officers ran forward at me. The larger one snatched me from the floor and bent me over one of the seats; drew my arms behind my back and cuffed the wrists. Both of them pulled me upright, restraining me tightly.
“Where do you want her, Inspector?” one of them asked.
“Off this train. I won’t have her frightening the passengers,” James replied, not breaking character at all. “Hold her at the station and we’ll deal with her when everyone has been evacuated. Fetch an ambulance crew while you are there.”
With that, the two policemen dragged me forwards. I twisted to see Benjamin, noticing him stirring a little, before we stumbled through the doorway. James passed within inches of me, and I struggled furiously, wanting to pounce on him.
“Get her out of my sight,” he said coolly.
Unable to stem my tears, I gave an unintelligible yell; lapsed into Hungarian before changing back to English. “You monster! How could you? How could you?!”
James paid no heed, watching as I was dragged away down the corridor, shrieking like one possessed. But at the last moment, I thought I saw a flicker of remorse in his eyes.
CHAPTER XXXI
I was taken to the platform and bundled off the rails. The underground part of the station had been cordoned off, so there were no civilians nearby, but the policemen standing guard were shocked to see me. I fought my captors every step of the way, still screaming for help, though it was to no avail.
“Shall we take her upstairs?” asked one of the officers.
The other shook his head. “No, best to not let the public see her. Wait for the Inspector.”
I instantly swore in Hungarian. “Let go of me! It’s him you want! Listen to me!”
But they didn’t, and instead forced me across to the far side where a storeroom sat. I was pushed inside and darkness surrounded me as a key turned in the lock. I kicked at the strip of light seeping under the door.
“Let me out!” I shouted. “Please! Let me out of here!”
“Be silent!” someone replied from outside.
I shook my head piteously, resting my temple against the wall before sliding to my knees. I began to weep, curling over so my body formed a ball against the barrage of horridness. The tiny room was stuffy; filled with nothing but paper documents, and dust flew up my nose with every breath.
I wanted to scream or pray, but I had no words anymore. All I could do was cry. The blood was making my hands cold and sticky. My thirst was sated, but I could still smell it, and realised there was more on the front of my dress which I hadn’t noticed before. As I hunched forward, the weight of the locket swung freely around my neck.
Against a wall of white noise inside my mind, faces and images paraded around me. I sensed Grandfather, Henry, George, Christine, Zíta, Erik; then my dear little boy. I wailed, knowing I would never see him again. There was no doubt: they would kill me for this. I’d be taken to court, and then to the gallows, to be silenced forever. James would see to that.
“Norman!” I moaned into the empty air. “Benjamin!”
I instantly remembered the sight of my husband’s limp body. The final glimpse I’d managed to catch of him told me that he had only been unconscious, but it still sent chills through me. I sobbed harder, gasping for breath when my nose closed over. My shoulders were hurting from the angle of my arms, though it was nothing compared to the pain in my chest, as it felt like my heart was literally breaking.
*
After what seemed like hours of nothingness, I was taken from the storeroom and upstairs to the main body of the station. The entire place had been emptied, so it was a simple matter of getting outside and being pushed into the back of a police wagon. I looked all around for James, but there was no sign of him. I supposed he was deliberately keeping himself clear, in case I shouted his name.
We trundled along for a few miles before arriving at the police station. Once again, I was walked down lines of corridors, officers holding my arms. They placed me in a tiny cell composed of three stone walls and a barred fourth one; removed the handcuffs, and then left me.
I half-heartedly tested the lock, even though I knew it was closed. A shabbily-dressed man from the neighbouring cubicle leered at me, so I withdrew, sitting on the thin bed. There was a bucket of water nearby; I dragged it closer and plunged my hands in, washing the blood away zealously.
When my skin and dress were clean, I hugged myself, staring at the window near the ceiling. It was large enough for me to perhaps just crawl through, if it were not for the metal grille separating it from the pavement outside. Night had truly drawn in, and the cell was lit by candle-lamps only on the corridor walls. I had no such luxury.
I passed a long and haunted night. My imagination went haywire. I could hear a chorus of voices in my head, repeating the old accusations of lying and murder. Faces swarmed at me. I spun away to escape them, and found myself in Hattyúpatak. I wrenched free of my cousin and ran forward, past Alexander, taking my mother’s place. The cloud of demons swallowed me. They clawed at my flesh, pulling me down, gagging my mouth. Then I was suddenly in the forest, and the Izcacus flew at me, eyes blazing.
“Insolent girl!” he hissed, slowly morphing into James with every word. “You will suffer for your disobedience!”
The teeth came.
I shrieked, and awoke myself, looking frantically around to gauge where I was. The dank cell swam into shape and I collapsed back onto the flimsy pillow with a groan.
I was amazed at how I had managed to sleep at all. The day wore on, and I passed it by simply lying there, staring into space, thinking of everything and nothing. Every few hours, a small amount of food was fed through the door to me. I leapt up and clutched at the bars.
“I want to speak to Inspector Hayes as soon as he gets here tonight!” I called out. “Do you hear me?”
“With all due respect, Madam, the Inspector is none of your business,” the officer replied before turning the corner and out of sight.
I sighed in defeat, returning to the bed with my bowl. It contained a watery pale substance that reminded me of extremely thin porridge. I ate some of it, but then left the rest, barely able to stomach the taste.
I lay down again; my hand wandering to my breast and finding the locket. I ran it along the chain; then pulled it taught so I could look at the crest. I traced every single line engraved into the silver, until the entire thing was practically committed to memory.
“Angel,” I whispered, closing my eyes. “Help me.”
But nothing entered my cell besides a small fly, which buzzed idly around my feet before settling on my discarded spoon. The sun changed direction until it shone through the window and directly onto me. Too apathetic to move, I simply turned my face into the shadows and covered it with my arm.
“Mrs Jones?” a voice said from outside. Not recognising it, I didn’t get up.
“What?”
“You have a visitor.”
My eyes flew open and I peered around to see a figure standing by the door. Even if it weren’t still the daytime, whoever it was wasn’t tall enough to be James. But then I blocked the light with my hand, allowing me to pick out the facial details, and my heart skipped a beat. I instantly sprung forwards.
“Benjamin!” I cried, reaching to him through the bars. He stepped close enough to embrace me as best he could; planting a thousand kisses on my lips. We held each other for ages, and kept the distance short even after drawing apart, our hands clasped.
“My darling,” Benjamin muttered. “Are you alright?”
I nodded, smiling with relief. My eyes passed over his face. There was a small dressing just above his temple, and a bruise discoloured the skin around his right sideburn, but other than that, he didn’t seem hurt.
“Do not worry about me,” he said, noticing my inspection. “They sent me to the hospital after I woke up, but you were already taken. It’s nothing serious.”
“How is Norman?” I demanded.
“He’s just fine,” Benjamin assured. “I promise.”
I suddenly lapsed into sobs again. “God help me, I’m sorry!”
“Hush, hush.” He stroked my cheek. “It is not your fault. He goaded you into it.”
