by Clare Daly
‘By him?’
‘By…’
‘God?’ said Gabriel.
‘I had my freedom and I took it and I sought out my brother, the only person I could punish for what had happened to me.’
‘Woltacht didn’t sacrifice himself with his men. He lives. He moved beyond the Kolyma Mountains, taking the chosen few.’
‘I don’t believe you. Why would he let me go?’
‘He took you in the first place because he knew he was about to be infiltrated, I don’t know how. Regardless, he turned you. Favoured you for immortality over a blood slave, thinking that he would one day send you back to your brother and ultimately to me. And here you are…the infiltrator.’
‘You think me a spy?’ Sasha said, his eyes shooting between Gabriel and Evelyn.
‘Are you?’
‘No! I thought he was dead. I had no knowledge of this.’
Gabriel uncurled his legs and dropped to the floor where he stood beside Evelyn, his hand resting on her knee.
‘I could ask Evelyn to burn you, simply on suspicion, but I will hold my mettle for the battle and we will see where your loyalties lie. I do hope it is with us,’ he said.
Evelyn saw the fear in Sasha’s eyes and a part of her enjoyed the reversal of power, her hand coming to rest on Gabriel’s, pledging her allegiance.
‘If what you say is true, Gabriel’ she said. ‘We need Sasha.’
‘Indeed,’ he said. ‘Forgive me Sasha, but your appetite for revenge has been sated. How are we to truly know now your motivations?’
Sasha looked at Evelyn.
‘She knows them. They’ve been clear since I met her.’
‘How do you know he advances now?’ asked Evelyn.
‘Long before you happened upon him Sasha, Woltacht sent out a group of his soldiers west, to the Earthen City. A band of vampires, primitive in their ways, raised by him, the best that Castle Valla had to offer. Woltacht sought to even up the number of vampires to humans, making them the superior race, turning the best while the rest would be enslaved like livestock. A new world order. As a keeper of the grey world in which humans and beast collide, I couldn’t allow that to happen and we fought back. The Earth belongs to the humans, it was created for them, not us. We are merely the shadow walkers. Anyway, into Moscow they crept in the dead of night, killing indiscriminately. They slaughtered families in their sleep, swords and hatchets working alongside their teeth and though we lost many, we were able to overcome them and capture their survivors, leaving them exposed to the rising sun, a reminder to Woltacht of our superior powers and the limitations of his. With his best soldiers erased, he had to start again and he did, amassing great numbers and that’s when I approached Vladimir to see if he would go to Castle Valla and give himself to Woltacht, with immortality as his prize. Well, you both know how that turned out. Vladimir came back to me unchanged, our mission a failure, until you showed up Sasha and so the stories have begun to be whispered again, that he now has a new stronger army assembled and ready to unleash outside of his homeland, on the very being that defeated him the last time. We don’t know when they will reach this island, they may already be here. Woltacht is a master of cloaking his presence but as his charge, you may feel him where I would not, and I am trusting you to share this information with us. Evelyn, you will stay with me now. His forces will look to better the odds by my demise and I would like you by my side, where we can protect each other. We must assume Woltacht knows nothing of your power. A day walking vampire would be of great interest to him, as you can imagine, and there is no end to the lengths he would go to get to you. Even through Michael.’
‘Michael is gone,’ she said sadly. ‘Is he safe where he is, in Ireland?’
Gabriel looked to Sasha to answer her.
‘He’s not in Ireland. He gave Baker the slip before the ship set sail. It seems he had a change of heart.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she said.
‘Because you drove him away yourself, for his own safety. Did it really matter where he went?’
‘It matters now,’ she said. ‘Where is he?’
‘Baker had a dock worker follow him. He left New York on a coach headed to Philadelphia. From there we don’t know.’
‘So, he’s out there somewhere. We have to find him. I want him with me,’ she said.
‘It will be done,’ Gabriel said. ‘Michael is never it seems, too far away from trouble. He won’t be hard to find.’
37
The pendulum swung in the grandfather clock, as Michael paced in the hall. He took a deep breath and knocked on Mr. Boudreaux’s study, or as he’d heard him call it ‘his only sanctuary in this godforsaken henhouse’. Michael feared the worst, that he and Salome had been discovered. They’d been meeting every night since they’d first spoken. Even Thomas knew that when the master summoned you, it wasn’t a good thing and so he had passed on the message to Michael with a look of worry and concern. When he entered the room though, Mr. Boudreaux’s face was only one kind of flustered – the kind reserved when it came to his youngest daughter. He waved his hand impatiently when he saw Michael at the door.
‘Yes, yes, come on boy the quicker we get this done, the quicker you’ll be back,’ he said. ‘Now see here, my Ashleigh is heading into town and wants you to drive her. I need you back here, Mr. Foster has a lot of work for you today so make it quick, see that she gets the things she needs and bring her straight back. She can take to socialising in town, but I’ve told her to spend whatever in hell she’s going to, and get back. She won’t go with Bailey and I don’t trust any of the rest of them.’
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘Like a thorn bush she is this morning – gets that from her mother. Tell me why must women be so much trouble? Telling her mother and I, that she won’t marry George Cassidy this summer when it’s all arranged. Anyway, take her to town and see she buys whatever she wants. It may help the situation.’
Michael thought perhaps he would have preferred his other fate, as the thoughts of spending the afternoon with Ashleigh was unbearable. Nonetheless he had Thomas ready the horses for the carriage and shortly after he pulled up out front, as Ashleigh came down the porch steps.
‘Isn’t it a glorious day?’ she said. She was wearing her prettiest dress, with matching yellow bonnet tied with a huge bow under her chin, her ringlets tucked inside. He helped her up into the carriage. Through the window, Salome was clearing away the mid-morning tea.
‘Indeed, it is,’ he said quickly, taking his eyes off her and seeing to his passenger.
The skies were a slick of clear blue as they rode along, and Ashleigh babbled on about which items she might get in which store, while Michael threw in the odd comment to appease her. When they had spent the morning in town going through every boutique for dresses, bonnets, and shoes, Michael loaded up her purchases and they made for home. Soon they were out in the country roads again and Ashleigh removed her bonnet, taking the afternoon sun on her face. Her golden hair shone in the sunlight and Michael suspected she had spent all morning refining it. She moved closer to him as he held the reins, slipping her gloved hand around his arm.
‘I’ve told Father I won’t marry George Cassidy. No matter what. He’s a plantation owner’s son, down in New Orleans. Wealthy but my he’s insipid and ugly too. My Aunt sent his picture to Mama. He won’t do and I’ve told Father. I won’t do it. I’ll marry when I am good and ready, to a man of my choosing. Lord knows they form a queue at the State Ball every year. There has to be better than George Cassidy.’
‘I don’t see you have much to worry about,’ said Michael. ‘You can have any number of…’ (he wanted so badly to say idiots…) ‘gentlemen. They are yours for the choosing, I imagine.’
‘I just think there’s so much more to be explored before you settle down to be an old married woman, don’t you?’ she said.
&
nbsp; ‘I don’t think your father would be pleased to hear you say that.’
‘Do you think I’m pretty, Michael?’ she asked, inching closer to him before pulling the reins in his hands. The horses came to a stop.
‘I don’t think, Miss Ashleigh, I should answer that,’ he said, trying to pry the leather straps from her.
‘Michael, there’s only you and me here,’ she said, the carriage standing among the shaded line of trees.
‘We should go,’ he said.
‘Kiss me,’ she said leaning into him, her full rosy lips parted.
‘Now, wait that’s not a good idea. Come on,’ he said.
She smiled at his flapping, delighted to have taken him by surprise.
‘Just one kiss.’
‘Your father wouldn’t approve and I like my job just fine,’ he said. He started to pull the reins free from her fingers but she yanked them back, angry.
‘You will kiss me, or I will tell my Father that you forced yourself on me. He is ever so protective of my virtue.’
‘That’s ridiculous,’ he said. Before he could react, she planted her lips on his, their soft flesh pushing against him. She held them there a moment before she gasped, swooning, a little girl thrilled with her conquest.
‘I knew I would kiss you today,’ she said bringing her fingers to his lips to wipe off some wayward rouge.
‘That’s enough,’ he said, pushing her hand away angrily, rubbing his mouth with the back of his hand. He grabbed the straps and pulled hard on the reins.
‘Michael, you’re such a baby,’ she giggled.
The horses trotted onto the road again and he didn’t speak a word for the remainder of the journey, pushing out to the other side of the bench, much to her amusement. He cursed himself for playing into her hands and knew he’d set a world of trouble in motion, the moment his lips met hers. She, on the other hand, comfortably basked in the kiss all the way home, and as he helped her out she whispered, ‘It will be our little secret’, before skipping up the porch steps.
Later that night as he walked with Salome in the woods, her hand in his, he told her what happened.
‘You shouldn’t have kissed her.’
‘I didn’t. Before I knew it, she was on me.’
‘Your lips have a power – a magical effect on a woman,’ she said, nudging her shoulder into him.
‘That depends on who they kiss,’ he said as he put his arm around her.
Something slithered on the ground beside her bare foot and she reached down, carefully picking up a tiny snake, it’s forked tongue sliding back and forth in its mouth.
‘Don’t be fooled by Miss Ashleigh,’ she said, bringing the snake to her face, as it curled itself around her wrist. ‘She’s dangerous. Always has been. As a child she would have nightmares, terrors that would wake her in the night screaming and sometimes, she would sleepwalk right out of her bed and across the lawn to the woods. Imagine it, a ten-year-old girl, waking from a nightmare, frightened and lost, with no idea of how she had come to be there. One night, she must have walked deep into the trees, because we heard her cries. Joshua, Thomas’ daddy, ran to her and she, still trapped in that nightmare, cried out against the demons that sought to drag her down, banging her head against the ground, her hair mussed up with mud and leaves. He thought if he held on to her tightly, he could calm her, waking her and the episode would end, but she swung out at him, scratching him and even biting his arm so hard she drew blood.
We all stood in the trees watching, young Thomas holding my hand. His daddy eventually soothed her, singing to her as she wept into his shoulder, glad that the demons weren’t real and she was safe. Bailey ran to fetch her Mr. Boudreaux to come and take her but he didn’t understand what Bailey was saying. He ran into the trees and all he saw was his daughter in the arms of a black man, his face dragged by her nails, blood running over his arm. And I saw her. She drew her head up and the shame and embarrassment hit her that we or anyone else would see her like that. Barefaced she told her daddy, that she could remember being lifted from her bed by a man, and she had woken to find Joshua laying her down in the woods and that’s when she started screaming for help and fighting him off. Well, Mr. Boudreaux went from deathly pale to purple in a heartbeat. Rage will do that to a man and he had Joshua immediately taken by Mr. Foster for hanging. Bailey and the other grown-ups protested but they were beat down, and that night they hung Joshua from that tree that hangs just over the edge of the lawn, and made us watch, even us kids, and I saw her standing at her bedroom window with her Mama and she was smiling. No-one ever gave her cause for that again and word is she’s slept like a baby ever since.’
‘Jesus.’ Michael said.
‘So, now you see,’ she said, freeing the snake back into the undergrowth. ‘We take a great risk, especially if she’s taken an interest in you herself.’
‘Then we’ll leave, run away from here. Somewhere they won’t find us.’
‘They always find us when we run,’ she said.
Michael considered her words, an image of his sister flashing into his mind, and with it the thoughts of her and Sasha eventually finding him, their teeth bared in attack.
‘We just need to make sure no-one finds out,’ she said.
‘Sorry, yes, you’re right.’
‘What is it? Sometimes you look so lost in there,’ she said as he leaned away from her. ‘There it is again, a look in your eyes, something that you try to keep hidden from me.’
‘It’s safer if I keep some things to myself, that’s all.’
‘You’ve lost someone. Someone you loved.’
‘It’s not what you think, really. You’ll think I’ve taken leave of my senses.’
‘You’re the most sensible white person I’ve ever met,’ she said smiling. ‘I doubt it.’
Michael looked around as the wind hissed in the trees. It swayed the branches, the leaves crackling and he realised he was about to tell her a secret, the wood already knew. Saying it out loud would be a catharsis of sorts, for these creatures were as real as they were.
‘My sister...’ he started, trying to find the words. ‘We ran into trouble after we arrived in New York. Got ourselves mixed up with some people, well…creatures I suppose, that took my sister and changed her into one of them. A thing that lives on blood. I know how ridiculous that might sound but...’
‘Vampires,’ said Salome. ‘When you live a life surrounded by evil, you learn of all threats that lie in wait for you. It’s a duty among our people to educate each other about such things. Stories have passed down through generations about them. Are you afraid she will come for you?’ she asked.
‘She drove me away, in fear I suppose that her maker would kill me or she herself. I don’t think they know where I am, but I know the day will come, when I will see them again. You have to tell me what you know. Is there any way for her to be saved or at least freed from them?’
‘They care only about the blood. That hunger drives them to commit murder without mercy. They must have it at any cost, but you should talk to Meega. She has lived in these woods as long as I can remember, hidden from the slave masters. They tried to find her once, when she spread word that we could chew the cotton root to kill the babies inside us. All the unwelcome babies – for who would bring a child into this. The next generation of slaves. They went deep into the woods, but they never found her. She shows you the way, only if she allows it.’
‘Do you think she’ll talk to me?’ he said desperately, but the wood already gave him his answer, as a flurry of dead leaves fell from the branches above them.
38
Despite the chilly night, Michael could feel the sweat dampen his shirt. They had travelled beyond the plantation, moving through the thickest part of the woods. The air here was warmer, the canopy of leaves and branches overhead keeping its climate temperate below, a little world un
touched by the seasons. The ground itself was thick with branches, some from fallen trees, some just twisted and briary, growing along the path, making it difficult to navigate – if that is indeed what they were doing.
‘It feels like we’re going in circles,’ Michael said.
‘Be patient. We will know soon enough,’ said Salome, working her way through the thicket, her feet sinking in the swampy earth.
‘There,’ she said, ‘look.’
Through the trees to their right, peeping through the foliage, came the soft glow of light from a wooden hut. Once a hunter’s cabin, it looked like a hurricane had run through it, for it leaned to one side, cradled in the trees. The roof was on the verge of collapse, branches lifting it from the inside. The only thing that kept it on was the tapestry of vines, binding it together. Salome caught Michael’s hand and led him towards it, knowing that if they were lucky enough to find their way through the trees and watery perils, it was because Meega let them. She knocked and gently pushed open the door.
‘Hello Salome,’ came a voice from within. ‘You brought me a guest.’
‘Yes, Meega,’ she said. ‘He needs your help.’
Meega was seated with her back to them by the fire, her small frame hunched over, her bony hand poking it with a stick before throwing it onto the flames. Her grey hair showed no signs of thinning. It framed her face like a lion’s mane, her dark skin loose and wrinkled, her brown eyes, shining brightly as she extended her hand to usher them in.
‘You sit here,’ she said to Michael, ‘beside me.’ She pointed to an upturned crate.
