I recognized nothing. I’d flown along the darkest streets to the farthest outskirts and dawn threatened to break at any moment. Sparrows broke into song.
I’d run out of time to make it home.
Westminster Abbey welcomed me with its familiar perpendicular style—simple lines and minimal artifacts. I strolled down the aisle tempting daylight, passing under wide arches and admiring the stonework and half-finished stained glass windows—some relaying biblical narratives, others perfectly crafted images of serene saints captured in their moment of martyrdom.
I made my way through the nave then down into the cathedral’s lower tenements. With the drop in temperature came the promise of darkness. I peeked into one of the few doors along the corridor and found a burial chamber. Hoping for something more suitable, I trekked on, checking out my temporary dwelling.
I reached a dead end.
My foot splashed into a shallow puddle and I traced its origin. A trickle of water leaked from the roof and trailed under the end wall. I studied the lower bricks.
I ran my fingers up and along until I found the lone brick that jutted out just a little more than the others. I heaved open the doorway and was hit by a burst of cold air and a puff of dust. Excited by my find, I entered and strolled down a long tunnel. Within a few minutes, I had arrived at the end of the passageway and found another door. My skin tingled—nature’s way of alerting the undead. Unable to resist, I peeked through a keyhole.
Light!
I flinched and staggered back. A stupid idea to take such a risk. Searing pain settled in my right eye and I bit into my hand to stop me from yelling. Rubbing it, trying to ease the searing stab, blinking several times and willing normal sight to return, I headed back. Once through, I gave the wall a shove and secured the passageway.
The burial chamber would have to do.
I banged the door shut. The air felt clean and the chill actually quite refreshing. Nearby, water dripped. Already, it irritated the hell out of me. When my sight returned, I viewed line upon line of caskets, the scent surprisingly pleasant. From the ornate brickwork and craftsmanship on the dark wood shelving, this place was reserved for the privileged.
A rat scurried around at the back of the chamber. And something else too. A Vampire.
“Good evening.” I bowed.
Luminescent eyes glared from beneath his hood, which he’d pulled forward, making it difficult to read his expression. Hidden from view, but detectable, a woman lay just around the corner.
I gestured to the door. “As soon as it’s dark, I’ll leave.”
“Who are you?” he asked with a cockney accent.
“Daumia. And you are?”
“Why are you here?”
He had a tall, slender build, not as tall as me, but almost.
“Did Count Delacroix send you?” His hood flopped back and revealed an eighteen-year-old face.
“Who?”
“To take us back?”
“No.”
He eyed me suspiciously.
I gave a wry smile. “Nice place you have here.”
“Piss off.”
“If we’re going to spend the night, we might as well be cordial.”
“Get out.”
“You know quite well that’s not possible.”
“Turn around and leave.”
I shrugged.
He looked puzzled.
“Your name?” I asked.
“Get out!”
As I studied his mind, a stream of confused thoughts flowed. He had no idea that he’d been turned.
He closed his mind, an interesting skill for a fledgling and an ability I still had to master.
“What’s wrong with the girl?” I asked, softly.
He glanced in her direction. “You knew we were down here?”
“Well, now I do.”
“Don’t hurt her.”
“Of course not. How long have you been here?” This threatened to be a long night. “Are you a Londoner?”
“Why?”
“I’m just making conversation.”
He stared at the door behind me. “I’m Benjamin.”
“So this Delacroix . . . ?”
“You really don’t know him?”
“Never met him.” I stepped closer to the girl.
“Don’t!” Benjamin’s eyes widened.
“All right, all right. She’s not well. I was just—”
“We don’t need your help.”
“So I can see.”
He stumbled, quickly finding his feet again. “I feel . . . kind of . . .”
“How long have you felt like this?”
“A couple of nights. I’m sick.”
“Well, you’re definitely afflicted.”
“You’ve seen this illness before?”
“You could say that.”
“Can you help us?”
I held my patience. “Sure.”
“What’s wrong with me?” Benjamin’s face reddened.
“May I take a look at your friend?”
“Sister.”
I turned the corner and there on the floor lay a young girl, sixteen or so, her hair a vibrant titian. I knelt beside her.
“Can you help her?” He looked woeful, as though already aware of the answer.
“What’s her name?”
“Rachel.”
“She’s very pale.” I felt a wave of sadness. In his confusion, Benjamin had drank from her, leaving her close to death.
“Does she have what I have?” he asked.
“How did you come to be down here?”
Benjamin settled beside me, his face sallow. “Rachel got a job as a housekeeper and I as a servant at Delacroix’s.”
“Go on.”
“The count found favor with her.”
Delacroix had also found favor with Benjamin, but I didn’t push it. Again, Benjamin closed his mind to me, providing only controlled glimpses, allowing me just enough to make assumptions.
Benjamin sighed. “The count’s behavior was so strange.”
“I get the idea.”
“No, I don’t think you do.”
Rachel’s bodice was tight. I wanted to loosen it to aid her breathing, but knew how it would appear.
“Is she dying?” he asked.
“I think she is, yes.”
Benjamin’s anxiety was increasing.
Rachel had not been turned, but if it wasn’t done soon, she wouldn’t last another night.
“Tell me something,” I said, “have you bitten your sister?
“He did send you!”
I strolled under the stone archway and laid down on one of the coffins. I rested my hands behind my head and crossed one leg over the other. Uncomfortable, but I’d known worse.
“You’re going to wait until I fall asleep.” Benjamin’s face contorted in fear. “Then you’re going to kill me.”
“A moment ago, I was taking you back to the count.”
There’d be no rest today. The last thing I needed was to fall asleep while trapped with a crazed teenager.
I retraced my steps through London, rethought my strategy for finding Jacob. With nothing to distract me, my mind raced. I liked to stay busy, the only way to keep my inner ghosts at bay. I glanced over at Benjamin. His deranged stare was all I needed to look away.
Hours passed . . .
I tried to convey the cathedral to Sunaria, though she’d probably be asleep by now. My gaze wandered over to the exit.
“You can’t go out, either?” Benjamin broke the silence. “You have what we have?”
I loosened my shirt collar.
“How do I know,” he heaved the deepest sigh, “that we can trust you?”
I stared off.
“Well?” he asked.
“My actions.”
Benjamin fell quiet. Rachel’s fevered dreams caused her to sob. Her sighs echoed.
“How come she has red hair and you don’t?” I studied him.
“Don’t know.”
The ceiling’s paint peeled. The painter had done a shoddy job trying to cover up the cracks. Probably, like me, he’d not wanted to hang out in here any longer than necessary.
Benjamin’s sense of melancholy reminded me of my own at his age. Occasionally, he tended to his sister, unable to bear to see her fading. He didn’t stay beside her for long. At one point, I caught him sucking on the back of his hand.
I remembered that feeling.
The drip, drip, drip that broke the silence really pissed me off. Despite my better judgment, I dozed off.
I jolted awake. Benjamin’s face loomed over me. I eased him away.
“Is it true that we can live forever?” he said.
“The count told you that?”
“Yes.”
“So you have some idea of what happened to you then?”
“Is it true?”
I shrugged.
He frowned. “You don’t trust me.”
“Don’t take it personally.”
“The count told me he was over six hundred years old.”
“Interesting.”
Whoever had turned Benjamin had left him for dead, though Sunaria insisted that this taught a newly turned vampire how to survive. I’d take my protégés under my wing and nurture them. The perfect patriarch honored the responsibly from their first night, and stayed with them until they’d adjusted.
Glancing at Benjamin again, I questioned the sanity of turning anyone, especially if his sister had his annoying traits. The thought of Benjamin hanging around caused me to cringe. The old ways certainly encouraged the survival instinct to take over. It was better to respect my elders and do as they did. My guilt lifted.
Thank fuck for that.
Until now, I’d not wanted to turn anyone. I still needed time to come to terms with my own transformation, though if neither of us helped his sister soon, do the dark deed, she’d be dead. In my hands, I held the key to eternal life. If I went through with it, she’d be my first. And my last.
No time for such indulgence or unselfish acts of kindness of which Sunaria would never approve. This place closed in and I badly wanted out. A sense of relief came as my preternatural inner rhythm hinted that day had faded.
Benjamin squinted my way. “How do I know you aren’t tricking me?”
Because in half-an-hour, I’ll be gone.
Rachel stirred.
“If you don’t help her, she’ll die,” he whispered.
I gave a sympathetic smile and my gaze roamed the chamber.
“Please help us.” Benjamin shifted closer.
“How do you want me to help you?”
“To understand.”
I slid off the coffin.
“These cravings,” he murmured.
Soon, I’d be outside and the night air would be cool. Even though an unpleasant city aroma would greet me, I’d welcome it. Thoughts of relief came with the idea that I’d soon be out of there, and this place would be an annoying memory.
His stare was vacant now. “I’m so hungry.”
I reached into my pocket. “Here.” I offered him several coins.
“What’s that for?”
“Get your sister to a doctor.” As I handed over the money, it dawned on me that if a physician examined either of them, a stake through the heart might be the treatment of choice.
“My thirst is driving me to do terrible things,” he confessed.
“Control it.”
Benjamin fell to his knees. “I’m craving rats.”
“Think of something else.”
“Like what?”
“Your future.”
“See, you can help me, you know what this thing is.” Benjamin threw himself at my feet and wrapped his arms around my legs.
I regained my balance.
“I’m so afraid,” he sobbed.
“Please let go.” I pushed him away. “Just stay clear of daylight.”
“Don’t leave us like this.”
I sat back on the edge of a casket.
“Can you help us?” He grasped his hands in prayer.
“Look, just give her some of your blood.”
“What?”
“You’re special now.”
“I’m damned.”
“Come here.” I ran my fingers over his face. He’d been transformed unshaven and he’d remain that way.
Benjamin softened.
“I was also confused,” I said, “when I was first turned. Like you, I struggled to understand my desires.”
He leaned into my chest.
I embraced him. “Benjamin, there’s no going back. You must come to terms with what you are.” I kissed his matted hair. My teeth pierced my wrist and blood trickled. Benjamin leaned in and followed the scarlet trail, pressing his lips up against the gash.
Thoughts of Jacob came to mind, how I’d enjoyed taking care of him. Now I bestowed a different kind of nurturing. After all that had unraveled in my life, I’d managed to hold onto the last remnants of kindness, bestowing it now to this sweet, frightened boy.
He let go and stared at me in awe, his mouth and chin covered in red smudges.
“Feel better?” I asked.