by Tim O'Rourke
Slowly, he slid his hand from mine and uncurled his fingers. Murphy looked down at the crucifix he now held.
“Are you sure it’s yours?” I asked.
“Positive,” he said.
“Do you remember it?” I asked, hoping that it might spark some memory inside of him. Were my actions dangerous? Could they destroy everything I had hoped to protect? Possibly. But it was a risk I had to take. I wanted Murphy to remember me. In my heart there was a sudden ache that wanted everything to go back to how it had once been before – however bad that had been.
“Yes, I remember,” he said, closing his fist around the crucifix again and placing it into his pocket.
“Remember what, exactly?” I asked.
“Losing it in the office a week or so ago,” he said. “Where did you find it?” He went back to his seat, picking up his pipe and mug of stale milky-tea.
“Under the desk,” I lied, when all I wanted to do was scream at him to remember the truth.
Unable to bear it any longer, I got up from my chair and went to the door. “I’ll see you when Potter gets back,” I said over my shoulder, pulling open the door.
“So what do you remember, Kiera?” I heard Murphy ask before I’d had a chance to step outside.
Strangling the urge to tell him everything, I glanced back and forcing a smile I said, “Only that it’s my birthday today.”
“Sorry, I didn’t know,” he said getting up. “Happy birthday. Have you anything nice planned?”
“I’m going out this evening to some restaurant with a friend,” I said.
“Which one?” he asked.
“It’s called the Light House.”
“I wasn’t talking about the restaurant,” he said. “Which friend?”
“You wouldn’t know him,” I said.
“Is he a human?”
“Yes,” I nodded.
“Be careful, Kiera,” Murphy warned, just like he used to when offering me some type of fatherly advice. God, I missed that. “Humans and Vampyrus shouldn’t mix. The agency might not like it. Don’t go looking for trouble.”
“One thing I do remember,” I said, “is that trouble comes looking for me.”
Without saying another word, I closed the office door behind me, and headed down the steps to my car.
Chapter Nine
I drove through the town. I didn’t want to go back to my room yet. It was still only early afternoon. I was hungry and my head thumped with everything I had learned from Murphy. But how much had I really learnt? It seemed that I had more answers than he did. My intention had been for my friends to be pushed back so they could be happy together with those they loved. Instead, it seemed that they had all been displaced in some way. The only sense that I could make of it was that these were not my friends; that I had come back into a different layer – different from the one my true friends had been sent to. I hoped that, but in another way I didn’t. Even though Murphy had told me very little, I knew at least Kayla and Isidor were both in this world. But where were they? If I could find them, perhaps they would know more. Murphy had hinted that Kayla hadn’t liked Sophie. Why had that been? Had Kayla sensed that something wasn’t quite right and had gone looking for answers with Isidor? I would never know unless I found them. There was only one person that might know the answer to that question.
Finding a parking spot on the main high street, I pulled over at the kerb and killed the engine. Taking my phone from my pocket, I went to my contacts list. I had three numbers now: Potter, Lois Li, and Nev. I pressed Lois Li’s number with my thumb. There was no dialling tone. All I could hear was a faint clicking, which was followed with the same automated voice I had heard before.
“The Agency is now closed. Please try again later. Sorry for any inconvenience caused,” the voice said.
I ended the call, stuffing the phone back into my pocket. “What’s the point of adding the number to my contact list if you never answer the goddamn phone,” I hissed.
Looking through the windshield I could see that I had pulled up outside a small bakery. Climbing from my car, I went inside and bought myself a sandwich. The weather was warm, so taking off my coat and throwing it over my arm, I meandered through the narrow, cobbled streets checking out the shops while I ate my sandwich. Holiday makers passed me by on the streets, eating ice cream and cooling themselves with cold drinks. Again, I couldn’t help but wonder how different the Ragged Cove appeared in this where and when. It all seemed too good to be true. And perhaps it was. For I knew that only a few streets away stood the offices of The Creeping Men – a secret agency which enlisted the help of supernatural creatures like me to hunt down other creatures that didn’t want to play by the rules. They wanted to kill the humans they secretly lived amongst. Was that why the agency seemed so opposed to Vampyrus and human mixing. I had always known it to be forbidden, but that had been the laws set down by the Elders, and they were gone now. I had destroyed them. Perhaps the rules weren’t so stringently adhered to in this new world. Potter was mixing it up with Sophie. Perhaps I should pray the agency tighten up the rules – and quick – before Potter and Sophie got married. Perhaps their marriage wouldn’t go ahead, perhaps this Lois Li would put a stop to it? Perhaps that’s how Potter and I end up back together. Perhaps that’s how we get married and have a daughter just like Jack said we did…
…perhaps that was all just a dream, Kiera…
Perhaps I should just be content with my lot. Couldn’t things be worse? I knew that they could be. I had lived through a lot worse. How bad were things anyhow? I had come back to a place I knew. A place that was better than I had known it before. My friends – of sorts – were here and I was working alongside them once more. Maybe Kayla and Isidor would come back from wherever they have gone. They might not remember me, but I certainly remembered them and would never forget. Perhaps then, like I had decided not to go looking for my parents in this new world and be content with the happy memories I had of them, I should do the same with my friends. Treasure for always in my heart how I once knew them to be, and embrace the new friendships they had offered. After all, wasn’t this what I had wanted? Hadn’t all of this been my choice in some way or another? Shouldn’t I just accept my lot? It was my birthday after all. A new year and new start for me. Perhaps for the first time in my life I shouldn’t go looking for answers, I should just see things as they first appear to be.
But even as I headed toward a shop where a dress that hung in the window had caught my eye, I knew that it wasn’t in my nature not to go searching for the truth – however dangerous the truth might be.
“I won’t let you leave the shop without it,” the assistant said. “The dress looks beautiful – you look beautiful.” She almost seemed to dance about me as she gently tugged at the straps over my pale shoulders, then leaning down to ruffle the hem. “The dark blue really compliments the colour of your hair. Are they highlights, dear?”
“No, the colour is natural,” I smiled.
“Really?” the woman frowned, then smiled, like she didn’t know if I was teasing her or not. “I’ve never known anyone to have natural blue hair before.”
“It’s a genetic thing,” I smiled back at her.
“Of course it is, dear,” she said, preening the dress again, then turning me around so I could see myself in the full-length mirror attached to the shop wall.
I stood and looked at myself. It was the first time I had seen myself in a dress for as long as I could remember. It was a dark navy in colour, with straps over the shoulder. It was cut fairly low over the chest, but not too low. The dress stopped just above my knees. I had taken off my boots and was standing barefoot. I thought that the heels I had arrived wearing in this world would match the dress perfectly.
“I wish I had your figure,” the woman smiled at me over my shoulder and patting her hips. She turned me around again and took another look.
“I’m not sure,” I said. It wasn’t that I didn’t think the dress was prett
y, it just felt a little odd wearing it. For so long now I had hiked about in boots, denims, and my long black coat, that anything else made me feel as if I was wearing an unfamiliar skin.
“Not sure!” the woman cried, throwing her hands to her face. “You look astonishing!”
I couldn’t help but think the term astonishing was somewhat melodramatic, but the woman was just trying to be kind and make a sale.
“Okay, I’ll take it,” I smiled, a bubble of excitement bursting inside of me. I couldn’t remember the last time I had treated myself to anything. It felt good.
“What’s the special occasion?” the woman asked.
“It’s my birthday today,” I smiled. “I’m twenty-one.”
“Twenty-one!” the woman cried, somewhat over the top. “My twenty-first birthday seems like just a distant memory now. Married and divorced twice in that time. They were both pigs. But I’m happy now. Got me a toy-boy.” She winked back at me. “Going anywhere nice in your new dress?”
“Just out for dinner,” I told her.
“With your boyfriend?” she smiled knowingly.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I smiled back.
“He will be once he sees you in that dress, dear,” she said, ushering me back toward the changing room. “Any man would be a fool not to see how beautiful you look wearing that dress.”
Perhaps I should wear it in the office when Potter returns, I thought to myself, closing the door on the changing room.
I parked outside the Crescent Moon Inn and fetched my shopping bags from the backseat. After leaving the shop with the dress, I went a little mad. And why not? The agency had kindly donated a credit card to me, and if I was going to stay in this where and when for a while I would need some new clothes, underwear, and other little luxuries, like some new perfume. It was my birthday after all, I smiled, heading into the inn. I looked about but I could only see one other person – a pretty looking woman sitting alone in one corner writing in a notebook. She wore a short-sleeved dress and I could see a black tattoo in the design of a flower at the top of her right arm.
“Good evening,” someone said.
I looked up to see a stranger behind the bar. The man was huge with a mop of unruly curls for hair. His complexion was ruddy and he wore a red checked shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing off his powerful looking forearms. He stood and cleaned some wine glasses with a white cloth.
“Where’s Phebe and Uri?” I asked, heading for the stairs that would lead up to the landing and my room.
“They’ve had to go away tonight,” he said. “They asked me to stand in for them. My name is Jeremey.”
“Hey, Jeremey,” I smiled, wondering if he too was someone from the Agency I had yet to meet. Was he just a temp or something more?
“If there’s anything you need, just holler,” he said.
“Thank you,” I said, turning my back and heading up the stairs.
I stopped outside my room, and balancing my shopping bags on one arm, I fished around in my coat pocket for the key to my room. It was then I realised I needn’t have bothered. My door was already open. With the tip of my boot, I eased it open and stepped cautiously inside.
“Hello?” I called out. I could see at once that my room was empty. Placing my bags down, I closed the door and went to the bathroom. It was empty. Who had been in my room? Someone who had a key – as the lock wasn’t busted and I could see that it hadn’t been forced at all. But why would anyone want to come into my room? I had nothing of value. The sheets hadn’t been changed by either Uri or Phebe as they still lay in a tangled mess at the foot of my bed where I had left them that morning.
It was as I picked up the bags of shopping and carried them toward my bed that I noticed something had been placed on my desk – something that hadn’t been there when I’d left my room that morning. Placing the bags on the bed, I turned back to the desk and picked up the bottle of Lot 13 that had been left for me.
Chapter Ten
I picked up the glass bottle. A cork had been wedged into the neck. Holding the bottle up, I watched the thick, red liquid slosh against the sides of the bottle. It was a lighter colour than blood, but thicker. I pulled out the cork and held the bottle up to my nose. I sniffed the contents. It smelt sickly sweet just as I remembered it to be. But there was a difference. To smell it didn’t make my stomach lurch with hunger. And as I replaced the cork, I realised for the first time since being pushed again, that I no longer craved blood like I had once before. But my past lust for blood had been because of the cracks breaking out all over my flesh. That flesh had been dead and it had needed blood or Lot 13 to keep it supple – to give it some kind of life.
But what about my friends? I thought, placing the bottle back onto the desk where it had been left for me. Did they still need to drink Lot 13 in this where and when? Did they still have the hunger? I knew that all of them used to go half-crazy if they didn’t drink Lot 13 regularly. Doctor Ravenwood and Lord Hunt had invented it for the Vampyrus to drink. Not only so the Vampyrus could stay above ground for longer periods of time, but to quench their thirst for human blood. But neither Potter nor Murphy seemed to desire human blood like they had once before, and they couldn’t return to The Hollows, even if they wanted to, as Murphy at least was totally unaware that the place even existed. Perhaps it didn’t in this world. But why then had someone left me a bottle of Lot 13? I certainly hadn’t felt the thirst for it, or for blood, since being pushed again.
My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out.
Wot time are you coming over? Nev xx the message read.
“Shit!” I gasped, looking at the time. It had gone 6.30 p.m. already. I had spent longer shopping than I had first thought.
Soon. KH xx I hurriedly text back.
Forgetting the bottle of Lot 13 for now, I ran toward the bathroom, pulling my clothes off as I went. Scooping my hair up into a loose-fitting bun at the base of my neck, I ran a bath. As it filled steadily with water, I returned to my room and took the new dress, underwear, and shawl I had bought and laid them out across my unmade bed. Would Nev think I was as pretty as the woman in the shop had thought? Did it matter even if he didn’t? I wondered, returning to the bathroom and sinking down into the tub. Hadn’t I bought the dress to simply feel better about myself and not for anyone else?
Within five minutes, I was springing from the bath and towelling myself dry. With the towel fluttering away from me like wings, I put on the new clothes I had bought. Smoothing the dress down with the flats of my hands, I returned to the bathroom and fixed my hair. I unknotted the bun and let my thick, black hair cascade over my shoulders and back. Then taking the bottle of perfume I had bought earlier, I sprayed some on each side of my neck and on each wrist.
I looked back at my reflection. “Good?” I asked it.
In my mind’s eye I saw the creature coming forward inside of me. Her long hair was flowing blue and black, skin so pale it looked like ice, lips the colour of blood, eyes blazing like bright pools of fire. With wings shimmering about her, she smiled and said, “Better?”
I looked away, heading back into my room. Slipping on the heels I had arrived in and the shawl about my bare shoulders, I placed my phone inside my purse and went to the door. With it open, I looked back at the bottle of Lot 13 on the desk. Not knowing who had left it for me and why, I stepped out onto the landing, closing the door shut tight behind me.
“Going anywhere nice?” the temporary innkeeper called after me as I fled across the dining area toward the door.
“Catch you later!” I said with a wave of my hand and without looking back. What did it have to do with him where I was going? He really was Phebe’s stand-in.
Teetering on my heels, I made my away across the small parking area. Climbing inside, I kicked them off, stuffing them under my seat. They had started to hurt already. I hated heels! With the engine of my scratched and battered Mini making a series of farting noises, I headed out of the car park
toward the cottage where Nev lived. Pressing down on the accelerator with my bare foot, I took the tight bends and curves in the narrow roads. The sun was just dipping on the horizon. It cast a pink blaze across the sky, like someone had knocked over a giant bottle of Lot 13. I pushed thoughts of that to the back of my mind. I would have to figure out who had left that in my room and why, later. I didn’t want anything to spoil tonight. It was my birthday and I wanted to enjoy it.
I took the turning Nev had directed me down the previous day. As I headed down the road with the waist-high stone walls on each side, I could see Nev waiting by the cottage gate. I suddenly felt nervous and I couldn’t explain why. Was this what a first date felt like? I wouldn’t know. I couldn’t ever remember officially going on a first date. Besides, this wasn’t a first date – it was the start of a friendship – acquaintance. However much I tried not to be in this world, I was in love with someone else. And even if I wasn’t, it would be too risky for Nev to become too close to me and my friends.
I drew my car to a stop. I could see that Nev had obviously gone back into town at some point and retrieved his bike. It was chained to the front gate. I couldn’t help but smile to myself at the sight of the wicker basket fixed to the front of it. The bike looked like something an old lady might ride. But then again hadn’t Nev told me that the bike belonged to Mavis Bateman, the widow who he lived with? Even if the bike looked a little old and cranky, Nev certainly didn’t. He stepped away from the gate with a broad smile on his face and came around the front of the car. His dark hair still looked skewwhiff, but he had trimmed the stubble that covered his chin into a dark shadow. He wore a smart black shirt, jeans, and jacket. He did look good dressed all in black.
With his blue eyes gleaming, he climbed into the car next to me. “Hey, Kiera,” he smiled. Then looking me up and down as if seeing me for the first time, his eyes grew brighter and wider still. “Wow, Kiera, you look stunning!”
