by A. D. Koboah
Lina’s voice rose to a deafening shout as she continued the incantation. Luna was overcome by another spasm.
She fell to her knees with a tortured cry. Luna’s gaze met mine. I saw pain and confusion, intense confusion, before her gaze was torn from mine as another spasm rippled through her body.
She doubled over in pain, revealing four long crimson lines of blood seeping through the back of her gown. Another streak blossomed, and she screamed in pain again. Her entire back was soon soaked with blood, staining the skirts of her gown and pooling on the ground.
Her eyes were glazed over, her features darkened with pain so intense it consumed her. Her mind was laid bare for the first time in so long. My throat clenched as I watched her transported to that whipping post, Master Henry flaying her with the whip so soon after the trauma of childbirth. She had been numb to the pain at the time, but she relived it now. The physical pain was as fire streaking across her back and blazing to every part of her body, her heart wrenched in two after giving away the child—Lina—that hated child she so loved now.
I felt nausea rise up as Luna continued to scream out in pain. My limbs felt weak as her mental anguish overwhelmed me. I almost made a move forward and it was only Lina’s grip on my arm that prevented me from going to her.
Blood soaked the ground beneath Luna. Her cries turned to whimpers and I caught one word amidst her incoherent sobs: “Avery.”
“That’s enough, Lina,” I said.
Her chanting rose in the air, even faster now. Her grip on my arm felt as if she would crush me, and it was well beyond that of an ordinary human being.
Fearing it would be impossible to break her grip, I reached for Lina’s hand and pulled it away from my arm. I placed my hands on her shoulders.
“Enough, Lina. That’s enough!”
At last, Lina opened her eyes and fell silent. She looked past me to Luna lying on the ground covered in blood, her expression unflinching.
“Take me home,” Lina said.
“Should we not—”
“Now!”
Luna was struggling to get to her feet. “Avery?”
I saw terror in Luna’s eyes and the crippling distress I saw every time I had to leave her on her own. But I did not want to antagonise Lina into continuing the assault.
“Avery!” Luna screamed.
I shimmered out of the grove with Lina, leaving Luna trapped within the circle whilst the sun rose fully to claim the land.
I took Lina home.
“Thank you. For sparing both our lives.”
She faced me and I saw sadness and exhaustion written across her face.
“Of course I did. You really think I wanted to kill my own mama?”
“You could have. In truth, it is the only way to be sure the killing will end.”
“It’ll end. You’ll see to that. I ain’t seen it before now, but you the only hope she has. But you in for a world of pain, that much I know.”
She entered the house and closed the door.
I returned to the grove. Luna was sitting along the farthest reaches of the circle, leaning against one of the trees in an attempt to get some shade from the sun. It offered her no protection and the sun beat down as merciless as if it was punishing her for all those she had slaughtered. Her thoughts were shielded from me, but her eyes told of her fury when she glanced up at me.
I wanted to pick her up and take her home, but Lina had warned me that under no circumstances was I to free Luna before sunset. I was reminded again of the seemingly unlimited nature of Luna’s strength and power, because no other vampire could have survived that amount of blood loss and remained coherent, let alone survive in the sun for as long as she had.
She only spoke when I made to leave.
“Avery? Avery!” She tried to get to her feet but fell back against the tree.
I disappeared into the ether, but could still hear her screaming my name.
I stayed nearby, listening to the sound of her heartbeat, a tattoo of hope I clung to. She was, and always would be, my only reason for existing, the only reason why I would continue to live. Without her, I had nothing.
Chapter 33
When I returned to the grove at sunset, I found her sprawled out beneath one of the trees. I thought she was unconscious until I entered the circle and she lifted her head up to glance at me. Tears were streaming down her face.
I did what I had longed to do all day. I gathered her in my arms and picked her up. She continued to weep as I entered the nothingness and took her home.
When we returned to the mansion, I lay her on the sofa and held out my wrist to her.
“You are incredibly weak, Luna. And you will be for some time. Drink my blood.”
Lina and I had already decided that until Luna could be trusted not to kill another, she would have to drink small amounts of my blood.
At first I thought she was going to just lie there, but she eventually took my wrist and bit into it. That first mouthful, after having had so much of her blood drained, made her swoon and tighten her grip on my arm. She didn’t protest when I pulled my wrist away after only a few mouthful’s, but merely sat back on the sofa and watched me, her thoughts shielded.
Noticing she was shivering slightly, even though it was warm in the mansion, I got up to get her a blanket.
She spoke when I got to the door, causing me to come to a halt.
“You know, I never thought you’d do that to me again.”
“Do what?” I said as I faced her.
“Leave me.”
She looked extremely pitiful sitting there, her clothing stiff with blood, her hair dishevelled, her eyes filling with fresh tears.
“I did not leave you, Luna,” I said, trying to suppress my own anger. “I did what I—what we—had to do to save you from yourself. And save the lives of others.”
She rose to her feet.
“Every white person I’ve ever known has done me wrong. God knows why I thought you’d be any different.”
“How dare you bring this down to race?”
“You...you attacked me, the same way Massa Henry attacked me. At least he had the courage to take the whip to me himself. You used my baby, the baby I lost because of him!”
“You didn’t lose Lina. You threw her away!”
She stared at me stunned, tears rolling down her cheeks. I regretted those words instantly but could not take them back.
“Do not compare me to your old master ever again, Luna. I love you and I’ve put you first—always—from the moment I saw you at that chapel. I’ve sacrificed and sacrificed and indulged you, and your irrational anger, over something I did for you! I gave you up and suffered so you could live, and you hate me for it? Sometimes I wonder if Lina was right and the woman I fell in love with died a long time ago.”
She stared at me, aghast. I walked out of the room only to hear her footsteps following. She was behind me a few moments later as I mounted the stairs.
“You have no right to judge me. And neither does Lina! She didn’t grow up a slave. She wasn’t treated like cattle that was only good for breeding. In all the time I was at that plantation I never saw Massa John whip his horse the way he used to whip us slaves. Lina never experienced a life like that and neither did you! You tell Lina...” An anguished sob escaped her. “You tell Lina she is no daughter of mine. I curse the day she was born. I curse the day she walked back into my life. But she doesn’t have to worry about me killing her. She’s old, she’ll soon be dead and I’ll stand over her grave and laugh!”
I spun to face her then, horrified at what she had said. Perhaps something in my expression, or whatever she could see of my thoughts in her weakened state, told her of the deep anger and disgust I felt at hearing those words. She remained silent, especially since she knew how much Onyx’s words, and what she had possibly stolen from me when she killed Julia, had haunted me for decades.
I stepped past her and back down the stairs.
“Where are you goi
ng?” she cried, an edge of panic in her voice.
I didn’t answer. I moved to the door and materialised outside the mansion. She pulled the front door open moments later and ran outside.
“I said where are you going? Answer me!”
“I need to get as far away from you as I can before I say something—before I say anything else—we will both regret. I will be back in the morning when I have calmed down. But first I need you to give your word you will not kill anyone, this night, or any other. It is the only reason Lina let you live. So promise me.”
“She knows I won’t kill! You didn’t need to do that to me because I would have stopped. I would have stopped for you, Avery. But if you think you can just walk out of here after what you did—Avery? Avery!”
I dipped into the ether, knowing she couldn’t follow, but the sound of her screaming my name whirled around me for a few seconds before it disappeared.
I walked aimlessly through the woods, deep in thought. I was no calmer when dawn came into view, but I returned to the mansion.
Luna was not there.
Unease gripped me, but Luna had given her word she would not kill again. Despite her faults, she had never broken a promise in all the time I had known her. Instead of going to the bedroom, I went down to the cellar, where I fell asleep.
When I awoke that evening, Luna had still not returned. I ventured upstairs to our bedroom and a startling scene met my horrified gaze. The wardrobes and chest of drawers hung open and were emptied of all clothing. My clothes were strewn across the bed and floor. I believe every single one had been cut or torn, most beyond recognition. Anger swiftly bubbled to the surface at such a juvenile display.
But then I noticed that not a single item of clothing belonging to her remained in the room.
I was still for a very long moment. Then I entered the room fully and searched it. Perhaps she had simply moved her clothes to another room. I exited the room, trying not to let panic overtake me. I searched the entire house. Nothing of hers remained.
I went into town and searched the minds of everyone I came across to find out if they had seen her.
No one had seen her.
I returned to the mansion and waited downstairs.
I was angry at her childish behaviour and determined I would not spend the entire night chasing after her, begging her to return home, which was what she obviously expected. When she came to her senses, she would return. So I stayed alone in the dark drawing room waiting for her. But it was hard to ignore the apprehension crawling around my stomach.
At dawn she had still not returned. I went to bed alone for the second time in decades, already aching for Luna.
***
Two months later, Luna had still not returned. I found myself at Lina’s home. She was sitting in a rocking chair on the porch waiting for me.
Her children and grandchildren were in the living room and the sound of laughter reached me, pulling me deeper into the grip of anxiety. I was reminded of decades alone in the wilderness, a ghoul on the outside of life, and the living, forever looking in at what I would never have.
“I know,” Lina said when I approached.
“But where is she? She has been gone for two months now.”
“If I knew I wouldn’t tell you. She’s angry but she ain’t killing no more. It’s best you stay away from her for however many years it takes for her to quit being angry at you.”
“Years?”
She opened her mouth and closed it again. Then she sighed heavily and looked guiltily away.
“You think she will be gone for years?” I continued. “But...but...I do not understand why she would just leave. She knows how much I love her. She knows I would die for her a thousand times over. How could she just leave?”
Lina’s face had become sadder the more I spoke.
“She’s angry,” was all she said.
I closed the space between us and knelt before her chair. If she looked unhappy before, she looked positively miserable now.
“Lina,” I said struggling to maintain my composure. “You must find out where she is so I can go to her.”
She sighed again. “She might still be in Louisiana, but you have to leave her be. When I said she could hurt you, I wasn’t lying. I’ve seen it.”
“If Luna wishes me dead, then so be it, because I cannot live without her. Please, tell me where she is.”
“She might be in New Orleans. I can’t be sure.”
Hope sprung into my heart again. It was a start.
“Thank you,” I said and rose.
Lina seemed incredibly troubled when I left her, but I had hope again. Luna was in New Orleans. I packed a bag and left that night.
Chapter 34
I didn’t find Luna in New Orleans, so I decided to go up North, finally making my way back to Louisiana. I eventually searched the whole of North America before I branched out of the United States to travel the world searching for Luna. But I found nothing, not even a trace of her.
Years passed, as Lina had predicted, and Luna had still not returned. I drifted through those years, each one a page turned to ash by the black hole of my anguish. And there were still many more of these pages ahead. The only time I was not searching for her was whenever I saw to the wellbeing of either my family back in England or Luna’s descendants. Lina died a few months after I left Louisiana for New Orleans, so once more, I was completely alone, and as we left one century and entered a new one, I began to believe Luna was dead. She was incredibly weak the night she left the mansion, and perhaps she did not recover her strength.
1922 found me in France. It was the second time I had been to France in search of Luna, and, as before, I found no trace of her whatever. The nights found me wandering the city streets, or drinking alone either in my room or the hotel bar. I had lost hope, but I could not give up on Luna. I would continue to search until I knew without a doubt she was no longer on this Earth. But the nights were cold and empty, and the days, alone in whatever hotel room I was sequestered in, sheer agony.
Where was she? How could she leave me like this and for so long?
I was asking myself that question, one which I asked myself repeatedly over those years, when I returned to my hotel room one bleak winter morning. Dressed in a dark grey three-piece suit, I moved down the corridor under the jaundiced glare of the electric lights that had recently replaced the warm radiance of lamps and candles. This hotel was one of the best, its dark, opulent furnishings of the highest quality, the service impeccable, but it still had the anonymity inherent in every hotel I stayed in and my loneliness bloomed like a fungus that thrived in places devoid of light.
I knew there was someone in my room even before I reached the door. There was a flurry of movement when they heard the sound of the key in the lock and I entered to find one of the maids replenishing the mini bar. It was the smallest one, the one I most often found lingering in my suite whenever I returned in the mornings. She was tiny, like a little mouse, and the only thing that distinguished her from the rest, was the surge of hot emotion that poured from her whenever she was in my presence.
“Good evening, monsieur.” Her English was halting and heavily accented. “I come to change towels...”
I nodded, reached into my pocket and placed some notes in her hand as I moved past her and to the mini bar before I realised she was still standing there, her thoughts awhirl. I saw in her mind snatches of the careful sentences she had learned in English, hoping to draw me into conversation.
I let her thoughts pass over me, remembering briefly a time of such hot crushes as the one she clearly had on me, and how the entire world seemed to revolve around the object of such affection.
Then I remembered the time. The evening chambermaids finished at eleven p.m. and the day maids did not start for at least two more hours. She had come here hours before her shift began so she could catch a glimpse of me before the “Do not disturb” sign appeared on my door for the day.
I put down the de
canter of whisky I had picked up and faced her. She froze. What little English she had learned completely left her. Suddenly she was very aware of how she must look to my eyes—a drab, dreary little maid.
I saw more than that. I also saw that she was nothing like a mouse, more like a bird. She was a pretty, fragile little thing with large forlorn brown eyes and long dark hair that was pulled away from her pale face. In that moment, something about her struck me, and I remembered the first time I saw Luna kneeling by the stream, how fragile she appeared to be, and worn down by so much suffering. This one was the same. Her suffering was nowhere near what Luna had endured, but it was wearing her down nonetheless.
I was so weary. So worn down by my loneliness and my fruitless search for Luna. I was also too old to really remember what it was like to be so young, and far too unhappy and jaded to even bother pandering to her little crush. Even then, my tone was a lot harsher than I intended it to be when I spoke, in French.
“Is there anything else?”
She blanched visibly. “N-no, monsieur. Good night.”
She scurried out, closing the door quietly behind her. She stood with her back to the door for a few moments, her heart racing, her emotions an equal measure of excitement and mortification.
I listened to her berate herself mentally for her stupidity as she moved away from the door and down the corridor. She was soon gone and I was alone with my anguish. I sank to my knees. Today was exactly seventy-five years to the day from when I came back to the mansion to find Luna waiting for me in the snow. I wept on my knees before the drinks cabinet, my head in my hands.
***
A few nights later I was alone in the hotel bar, the bar staff long gone, when I became aware of the maid. She was standing by the door observing me as I sat by a small table with a drink in my hand, staring into the fire.
