“No.” He was sullen that night, not exactly depressed, but adamant in his refusal to be cheered. “I have more work to do.”
“Let me help then. Where were we?” I shuffled through the gathered papers until I found the scroll he had been reading from when our discussion had erupted. It was a text from a land not far from the place where it all began, where Bestin created the first of the Family. It was not old, perhaps twenty years or less. “There is then, hidden by the darkness, an evil which drinks the very life of our people, stealing through the night and leaving in its wake a trail of death,” I read to him.
I had seen the words before, though couldn't place where. “It was once as we are, but the demon rose within it, and changed it forever. It cannot die, it cannot be stopped.”
I put the scroll down. “It sounds to me like the ramblings of a paranoid mind.”
“Perhaps,” he conceded. He was thoughtful, his handsome face almost blank as his thoughts swirled around the words. I found it fascinating to watch, I was holding my breath. “Perhaps the author was paranoid. Perhaps he was demented. Does that make his words any less true? Slanted, maybe, but he must have seen something to make him write this. Here, what about this one?”
He pulled a much older clay tablet to him and tilted it to the flickering light. He licked his lips, and read haltingly, translating as he read. “I am Darious, priest and teacher. I serve his Highness Dukant . On this night, I have seen evil with my own eyes. He came from the mountain and fell to prey upon two men. He had eyes of coal staring out of the whitest face, and teeth that were long and sharp, cutting the skin on the necks of his victims easily to drink from their blood. When he was done, the demon raised his bloodied face and took to the skies. I pray I never see such evil again.”
I shivered. Something in the words or his voice as he read them conjured the image of Crenoral. I willed it away, but my face betrayed me. “See, your heart knows the truth,” he said, his dark blue eyes lighting up. “What would you say if I told you that I too had seen this demon, this blood feeder?”
I looked at him, and knew. His soul lay open briefly for me. I saw the reflection of that trauma of his youth. It was just a flash really, a white face, a screaming child. Then, just as quickly, it was gone and his face was once more closed to me. “I would say, enough for tonight. Let it rest, Jesse. Let it be.” I rose and left him there, among his books and notes, but I would return. There was something in that young man that beckoned me.
It was on a night several months later, when both of us were about our own separate matters that my fate would find me, or us as it would turn out. It was nearing the time we both normally went to our separate beds, yet I was ensconced comfortably in a chair in a dark back corner, a single lamp shedding a dancing light across the tablet of poetry I was reading.
I felt him enter, long before I heard his footsteps. I sat up and put my reading aside, listening as he came closer, my senses filling the space between us, trying to identify him and his intent. It had been many years since any of my kin had been so close. His attention was on Jesse, who was bent over his notes, oblivious to the intruder. I stood and silently edged closer. The intruder didn't appear to know I was there, so intent was he on Jesse. Just as he came within arm's reach of him, I called out. “Jesse, is someone else here?”
Jesse's head came up and the other stepped back slightly. As he did, he moved into the light of a nearby oil lamp, and I started. The hair was longer, the face more drawn, but I couldn't mistake him for any other than my childhood tormentor, Vahe. I stepped out of the shadows, gathering my hard won confidence around me as his eyes widened in recognition.
“The young man and I were just preparing to retire for the night.” I said, hoping he would accept that Jesse was my chosen prey for the night. He raised an eyebrow at me and smiled vaguely.
“As I recall, he isn't your type. Imagine Father's delight when I bring you home. We had nearly given you up for dead.”
I moved closer, an old, familiar anger stirring within me. “I am not dead, nor do I plan to return with you to Crenoral.” I was trying to remain calm enough to keep the Change from coming, to protect Jesse's fragile trust in me. His own growing discomfort triggered a need to protect him though. “You can tell him I said so when you go home to him. As I said, my friend and I are retiring for the evening.”
“What, still playing with your food? Step aside, let me see how he suits my palette.”
“Back off, Vahe.” I was between him and Jesse now, and Vahe's face took on the look of the Hunt, his sharp teeth bared as he ran his tongue along them. Jesse swallowed hard, perhaps attempting to determine which of us was the bigger threat.
“What will you do? Will you fight me for him? I have feasted well this night, Little One, and by the smell of it, you have not. Step aside, lest I have to hurt you.”
“Jesse, this would be a good time to leave,” I said quietly, feeling the Change pulling at my features until they mirrored Vahe's.
“What's happening?” Jesse asked, as I pointedly kept my face turned from him.
“Leave now and don't look back.” Vahe came at me then, and I lunged forward to meet him, hoping Jesse had listened, but not having the chance to be sure. Vahe had spoken true, he was strong with the blood of his night's victims, and his blows hit hard. I, on the other hand, had postponed my supper while I read. He pushed me and I fell against the table, scattering scrolls of parchment to the floor. I kicked out hard as he came closer, landing a solid blow to his stomach and sending him into a chest, which crushed beneath him, leaving him lying in a pile of wood and stone on the floor.
I backed away, moving under the overturned table, seeking some cover while I regained my composure. I hadn't much chance against my childhood tormentor, but I had an advantage knowing that he would not seek to kill me, only injure me and haul me back to Crenoral. Still, he would not be averse to inflicting as much pain as possible, without killing me. I pulled myself up and out from under the table, using it as a shield between us. After a little cat and mouse, Vahe grew angrier and flung the table, his teeth bared as he came for me. I ducked, coming up under him and pushing him into the nearest shelves. He howled in pain as he crashed to the floor and I moved for the dangling leg of the table.
I pounced, from across the room, and almost made good with the weapon, but he was stronger and tossed me aside like a rag. He roared his irritation and the building shook around us, threatening a landslide of tablets and scrolls off the nearest surfaces. He moved toward me, on hands and knees, warily climbing over debris as his eyes locked on mine.
We rose together and circled one another warily once more. He closed in, and I tripped over shards of a chest or shelf that lay scattered underfoot. He was on top of me in less than a heartbeat, his hands reaching for my head. I bucked beneath him, but was unable to throw him off, he had me pinned and was moving in, his teeth bared. I was unable even to prevent his bite.
His face suddenly changed, his eyes growing wide, the Change fading, his hands releasing to clutch at his chest where a broken table leg protruded from him. Hands pulled him off of me, pushed him to the side, then reached down for me. As they pulled me into a sitting position, Jesse took shape behind them. His face was drawn and pale as he looked upon my Changed face. I licked dry lips and willed the Change to leave me. “Thank you, Jesse.” I said after a time. My voice sounded distant and cold in my ears.
Beside me Vahe was decomposing, his wide eyes staring at me in accusation. We watched silently as I came back to myself, then our eyes turned to one another. Everything had changed. “You should not have done that, my friend. One of them will surely come seeking revenge. You must leave this place. Go as far and fast as you can.” I was already scanning around for signs of Arda. She and Vahe never traveled separately. She would miss him soon.
“What of you?” he asked gently, genuine concern coloring his eyes.
“I too must leave,” I replied heavily. “They will know I was here,
my scent is strong here, and seek to return me to Crenoral.” I said it as if it explained all that he had just seen, when indeed, it told him nothing. I let him help me stand, and shakily crossed the debris strewn floor to my chair in the back where my oversized bag hid a bottle of my formula. There was precious little left, and the other bottle was nearly an hour's walk away, but I lifted it to my lips and drained it, letting it slip down the back of my throat, spreading some semblance of strength back into me.
Jesse's eyes were one me, watching closely. I held the empty bottle out for his inspection. “It isn't blood, only a pale imitation, something to get me through the long nights.”
After only a moment's hesitation, he took it, sniffing at its mouth and shrugging. “I was only curious.”
“I know.” I took the bottle and dropped it back into the pack. “Now, we should both be on our separate ways. It won't take Arda long to find this place. I thank you again for saving my life.” I shouldered my bag and headed for the door, but his hand on my arm stopped me.
I knew well enough from our conversations of the previous months that he had a fair understanding of what had gone on there, of what Vahe, and I, were. I saw something akin to sympathy in his eyes, and felt, for the first time, a small returning of emotion that I had held for him for so long.
“I should be thanking you. I could have been his dinner,” he said somewhat uncomfortably.
“More likely dessert, he'd fed at least once already this evening.” I said lightly, understanding his feelings and trying to ease the burden. “But, you are welcome. Perhaps then, we are even?”
I again started for the door, but his voice followed me. “Where will you go from here?”
I turned, a small smile on my face. It had been a long time since I had someone care where I was headed. “I don't know. Away, to some other quiet place. It isn't the first time, and won't be the last.” I wanted to hold him, to comfort the turmoil of fear and affection and loneliness I felt from him. “You shouldn't tarry here, Jesse. If they find you, you are as good as dead … or worse.”
“I have nowhere to go. They've found me before. I have nothing … I am here because I have nothing left.”
I thought for a long moment, rationalizing my decision before I had even spoken it aloud. He was, after all, just a boy and he would need someone to defend him if they came. When they came. It was easy to surrender to the need to keep him with me. “Come along then, Jesse, let us leave this place.”
He hesitated only a moment, his eyes reflecting something akin to desperation before he marshaled himself and nodded. He picked his way to my side over smashed tablets and ripped scrolls and I slid a comforting arm around him as we left. The night was largely gone, and together we were confined to travel only as fast as he could. I resigned myself to the slow journey, and did my best to settle him to the ways of the night. We would live in twilight and dark, daylight lost and dawn our enemy.
Chapter 5
Thus began our time together, our running. We hid near the outskirts of the city until midday when Jesse found us a merchant traveling the blue waters of the Mediterranean ocean to take us north, to Gela. I entrusted myself to him, though it terrified me, in a cart covered in oiled canvas, I rode alone as he pulled me to the docks. The streets were rutted and bumpy and I jostled about in silent anxiety. My fear grew as he lifted me from the cart, tucking the thick canvas around me in the hope that the sun would not reach me. As night fell we huddled together for warmth and comfort, a physical closeness we hadn't shared before. It made my heart race, the scent of him so strong, the feeling of him in my arms.
He seemed stunned, speaking little and clinging to me if I shifted too far away from him. Echoes of nightmares followed him from his sleep whenever he chanced to doze off, though I only caught the echoes, none of the images. That first night seemed to go on forever, sitting in the dark under the cover of nothing more than that canvas shroud, waiting for death or the morning tide to find us.
Finally, the boat began to move and I felt some relief. The trip was longer than I wanted it to be, imagining our pursuit closing in around us, and unable to feed. My formula was gone, and I needed supplies and space to make more. By the time we had landed in Gela, I was shaking in hunger and might have fallen to the need if I hadn't had Jesse beside me. It was there, in Gela, that the first of them came.
As I suspected, it was Arda who found us first. There was fury and anguish etched on her face and her strength was unbelievable as she chased us through narrow streets and into an alley. Jesse was hurt, his arm broken. I was weak from lack of food. She closed in on us trying to decide which made the better target. Arda lunged at Jesse's cowering form, getting past me easily. In turn I lunged at her, the Change snapping my face into a mask as I bit into her neck and clung to her back. I drank deeply, swallowing greedily as she screamed and tried to pull me off. We stumbled backwards, into a wall, but still I drank. She had fed well before coming after us, and had managed to bite Jesse at least briefly before I had taken her by surprise.
She collapsed beneath me, first to her knees, then face first into the dirt. As I drank the last of her, I could taste Jesse. It stirred me, aroused me. The blood coursing through me was more than I had tasted in years, and the heat of it filled me. I wanted more. The scent of Jesse's blood filled the air and called me. I was on my feet and moving toward him before I realized it. There was blood on his neck, the small wounds still oozing lightly. He was on his feet, cradling his arm, his face contorted in pain.
I might have taken him then and there, answering the need within, if he hadn't raised his eyes to mine, and I saw an image of myself in them. He smiled tentatively and I felt the Change fade from my face. Self-consciously I wiped at my mouth, though I was sure there was no blood left on it. I covered the wound with my hand as I reached him, my other hand gently touching the arm. “Let's get you inside,” I said thickly. There were more of them about, but none close enough to worry me. Once we had found a place to hide ourselves, I tended his arm, and covered the wound in his neck. His blood stained my hand, taunting me, as the warmth of his body taunted me. I leaned closer, my clean hand brushing through his unruly curls. My first kiss was soft, my lips lingering over his briefly.
He didn't respond right away, but I was not going to be denied after so long waiting and after tasting him. My second kiss was more urgent, and drew him into my embrace. I tried to be mindful of his injury as my hands touched him, sliding down his body as my desire climbed. I felt him respond, after that moment's hesitation that seemed to be his trademark, and his hands found their way to my waist. He had to be invited to be bolder, but proved a quick study, and we found ways to please each other as the day passed. I kept myself vigilant in my passion, lest I lose myself and take him all the way, as I had Adroushan. As the daylight faded and the dark took hold, we rose, donned our clothes and set out.
Whether it had been Arda or some other member of the Clan that found Vahe's dust, the lingering scent which my extended stay left behind was reassurance that I was yet alive. Crenoral renewed the hunt for his lost daughter. He sent the clan after me, and after the one who had killed Vahe. I could hear them in the night air, their voices filled with anger as they tracked us.
We traveled from dusk through dawn, scrambling for shelter as daylight approached. I lost count of the number of them that found us, for they could travel so much faster than we, hampered by Jesse's endearing humanity. They died, one after another, whether by his hand or mine.
Jesse learned quickly, and displayed an incredible talent for being able to sense them, sometimes even before I had. He adapted well to life in the night, to living by firelight and moonlight. He was a fair warrior as well, a fact hidden by his slight physique and mild manner. More than once in that first year I owed my life to him.
We rarely spoke of the past, of things we had done or what we felt. My adoration of him expanded as he grew from the boy he had been into a dark, brooding man who was my brother, my lover, my
protector, and my ward, all at once.
The woman in me who had been awakened all those years before in Adroushan's arms was realized in Jesse. His eyes alone could bring me to my knees with desire. His tears could rip my soul to shreds. His touch was the most sensual thing I have ever known, raising my passion to a dangerous level that might have damned us both. He was a gifted lover, given to romantic play and diversions most mortal men might not have survived with me. I was helpless beside him, more human than at any other time in my life. I could deny him nothing.
He was, however, a product of the society which had raised him, and he had clear-cut definitions of good and evil. He hated the evil, and he focused that hatred into hating the Family as the purest representation of all that he knew to be evil. He mostly overlooked the fact that I too was like them, forgiven by the grace of my birth. He was sympathetic, touched by my conflict. I adored him, nearly to the point of worship. I looked to him for compassion, love … approval. Most of the time I received it. It was only when I was forced to my own nature that he withheld it, on a night in the forests south of Germania, nearly three years after our running began. We were set upon by three of Bestin's clan. We fought. He killed the first of them with the hand carved wooden dagger he had crafted. I was weak by the time I had killed the second, shaking with need and the draw of the scent of blood. I fed upon her and flew at the last of them who had Jesse's left arm and was attempting to close her mouth over the pulsing veins at his wrist. I took her down and fell upon her, draining her as well. When he pulled me from her, my face was sticky with cooling blood and I burned with the feeling of strength it gave me.
He looked upon me then with disapproval, with a reflection of that passionate hatred he reserved for them. I thought the look alone might kill me, his face contorted with anger and disappointment, the stiffness in his back as he walked away, the cold in his fingers when he touched me. Eventually he forgave me, but it changed us forever.
Forever Page 5
