by Eva Alton
“It depends,” she whispered, like she didn’t want her companion to hear. “Hopefully soon, if you don’t have any past records. Now you wait here, and someone will come for you.”
She left me in the empty room. The lock turned and she disappeared through the door. The clock on the wall confirmed my suspicions that it was long past midnight.
When the policewoman came back in, I had already eaten all of my fingernails, and I was about to start with the ones on my toes. I was cold in my torn and wet dress; but also tired, and so fretful that I could have produced enough electricity for The Cloister if I could power it with my growing anxiety.
They took me to a counter, behind which a man with saggy bags under his eyes glanced at me with the fed-up look of those who have already seen everything. He remained impassive when the policewoman summarized how they had found me trespassing and I had tried to resist the authorities.
“Date of birth?” he asked, although he had my ID in front of his nose and it was obvious.
As soon as I said it, I realized it was my birthday. I had completely forgotten about it.
“Happy birthday?” he said, furrowing his forehead.
“Birthday?” A handsome policeman with short blond hair appeared in the interrogation room, whistling merrily.
“What are you doing here, Lombardi? Shouldn’t you be in Emberbury? In case you haven’t noticed, some of us have to work and build up this country.” My interviewer didn’t seem so happy to be working the night shift.
“I just heard there was a birthday party here, and I didn’t want to miss it,” the other one answered with a wide grin.
“Get out,” said the man in front of me.
“Can I talk to the cemetery trespasser for a couple of minutes? I’ve always been fascinated by necromancers.”
“I’m no necromancer,” I objected.
“I said get out, Lombardi,” repeated the other policeman, and the newcomer left with a shrug.
“Sorry you have to be here on your birthday,” the man on the counter apologized, “but it was really foolish of you to run away when the police tried to stop you. Are you aware of that?”
I nodded. “I just... wasn’t really thinking.”
He filled out some forms and made me sign them. “That’s it. Your bond is set to $500,” he said with exhaustion. A web of red veins marred the white of his eyes.
“I don’t have that much money with me. Actually, a man with a dog took all I had in my wallet. And the money wasn’t even mine.”
The man yawned. “So, let’s get this straight: first, you said that two... magicians... witches... whatever, were following you. And now, that a man with a dog took all your money. Not only that, the money wasn’t yours. Please, madam, why are you testing my patience? Don’t you want to go home? Because I’d love to. I miss my bed. And my wife. Just tell me who is going to post your bond, all right?”
I slumped on the chair and closed my eyes, too tired to argue. It must be almost dawn, and I couldn’t think of one single person who might be willing to drive all the way to Saint Emery to get me out of jail. Mark was clearly out of the question: that bastard would let me rot there forever if he could and enjoy it immensely as well. Mom and dad had passed away, and college friends... I hadn’t called any of them for ten years, so they weren’t going to be thrilled. Finally, Francesca was a vampire, responded only to snail mail, and as far as I knew, couldn’t walk under the sun without turning into fowl.
This narrowed the choices to just one person, and I knew beforehand she wasn’t going to be happy to receive my call.
“Okay...” I sighed. “Please call Mrs. May Yang.”
MAY YANG ROLLED HER eyes at least ten times in a row when the door to my cell opened and she found me sitting on a plastic chair and holding the leftovers of my dress with a vintage cherry amber brooch. She was wearing a silk robe dress, which made her look like she had just crawled out of bed, and led me out of the police station under the attentive glances of the few remaining policemen, who no doubt wondered whether the robe would open just enough for them to catch a glimpse of her perfect thighs. Her brand-new white pickup waited outside, parked by the entrance. She opened the door for me, probably to keep my filthy fingers from coming into contact with the pristine snowy metal.
“I must be crazy to be here,” she said, as she buckled her seat belt without even looking at me.
I stared at the floor, feeling like a complete loser. I dreamed about sticking my head into a hole and staying there forever, like a big, featherless ostrich.
“When Mark said you had gone bat shit crazy and were drinking too much, getting lovers and neglecting the kids, I didn’t believe him. I mean, I had a feeling there must be some truth in it, but I wanted to think he was... exaggerating.” May said, changing lanes expertly and heading to the highway.
“But now you believe him word for word,” I offered, eyeing May’s warm wool cardigan with longing. “What if I told you all this is a misunderstanding?”
“You will agree you aren’t making a very convincing case,” she said, pointing at my dirty knees and my cold bare feet. “For a start, I just paid good money to get you out of a jail cell.”
I nodded. She had the right to doubt my words.
“So why did you come anyway?”
“We had coffee at the gym yesterday,” she said casually, “and Renée said she had seen Mark while you were away.”
“And he wasn’t alone,” I ventured.
“You knew about it?” May seemed surprised. She grabbed a few chocolate chip cookies from a bag on the back seat and offered me one. They were a bit stale, but munching on them felt oddly comforting.
“I just found out about it yesterday. But I don’t mind. We are almost divorced anyway. I pity the girl, to be honest.”
“It just made me realize that, if it were me, I wouldn’t like Han to walk around the neighborhood parading a new lover and saying such nasty things about me at the same time,” May said, wiping the crumbs off her face with the back of her hand. “If something like that happened, I’d like someone to listen to my case. At least give me the benefit of the doubt. I thought you deserved to be heard.”
“Thank you, May.” I closed my eyes and allowed the exhaustion of the day to finally start to trickle. The chocolate chips melted in my mouth and reminded me of my grandma’s kitchen, where there was always something baking in the oven.
“I’m sorry for kicking you out of my house,” May said, nudging my knee amiably. “I shouldn’t have believed Mark right away.”
“It’s fine. Thanks for driving all the way here to get me out of that hole. I almost froze in that cell, you know? They went crazy with the air conditioning.”
“There’s something else I found out yesterday,” she said, biting her lip in hesitation. I looked at her, expectant. “The girls at the gym. They are good listeners, as you know.” Oh, yes. Those women were sharper than the secret services. “They said Mark and his new girlfriend intended to fly with your daughters to Costa Rica. He wants to leave them there with his girlfriend until he gets full custody. And they are staying at Mark’s parents’ place for a couple of nights right now. He also suggested you would have no chance of defending against his accusations, because...” she paused, “because you are so...” May gave me an apologetic smile and left the sentence unfinished.
“Stupid?” I offered.
May shrugged, widening her grin. “Sorry.”
The sun was high in the sky as we drove past the city limit sign of Emberbury.
“We’re driving straight to my house so you can shower and change those dreadful clothes once and for all,” May said, “I’ll lend you something of mine.”
Awesome, I might be able to tie my hair into ponytails with her size zero pants. Still, the shower offer sounded tempting, although there was a place I needed to visit before that.
“I know this is going to sound extremely weird, but...” I said, biting my lip, “would you mind taking m
e to Saint Anne’s cemetery first?”
Chapter 31
Alba
When she heard my request, May stepped on the brakes so hard that she made us both bolt toward the front window.
“You must be joking,” she yelled, putting a finger to her temple in a very descriptive gesture. “Another graveyard? Do you have a death fetish or what?” She narrowed her eyes and leaned toward me without releasing the wheel. “Are you one of those freaks who like to get laid on tombstones?”
A laugh escaped my lips against my will. “No, I’m not!” Below them would have been more accurate, anyway. “It’s hard to explain,” I said. Revealing the existence of The Cloister would have put May in trouble and, besides, she wouldn’t have believed me. “There’s something important I need to deal with as soon as possible. I’ll go back to your house afterwards, okay?”
May pulled up near Saint Anne’s Park and grabbed my wrist before I got out of the car. “Promise me you will get professional help once the divorce is over, will you?”
“Don’t worry about me.” I nodded, trying to look convincing. “See you in a bit.”
Crossing the park, I reached the gates of St. Anne’s Cemetery. They were locked, as usual, and I didn’t have a key anymore. As I circled around the fence, I wondered what level of crazy one needed to reach to trespass upon a cemetery twice in less than twenty-four hours.
A very high one, probably, but no doubt I was above it.
Grabbing the gate with both hands, I stuck my face between two iron bars, and shouted at the top of my lungs, “Hello! Is anybody there? Clarence, come out! We need to talk!”
Nobody answered.
“Elizabeth!” I yelled, “I know you are angry, but I can explain!”
A flock of sparrows chirped from the treetops. The graveyard remained silent. Seemingly, vampires didn’t take banishment orders lightly.
“Fine! I’m leaving,” I grunted, giving up. There was no way I could force a vampire to come out and meet me against his will.
Two security guards passed by. Once they disappeared into the trees, I scribbled a note in a small piece of paper. Then, expecting to attract a certain sparkle-loving raven, I removed two red amber beads from my brooch and left them beside my message.
Then I walked away and hoped he would find it.
IT TOOK ME THE BEST part of the morning to walk all the way back to the suburbs. Instead of bothering May once again, I decided to just break into my house like a burglar. Using a big rock, I shattered the glass pane on the kitchen door, got my hand through the hole and turned the handle from the inside. The alarm went off, but Mark had forgotten to change the password, so it was easy to turn it off timely. Mark was gone, and so were the kids, but at least I’d have a place to stay until his return.
Showering with hot water felt delicious and I could hardly believe how much grime one could collect after one day of wallowing in graveyard mud. After that, I put on a pair of comfortable jeans and a short-sleeved peach blouse and set out to celebrate what was left of my birthday properly, even if it was on my own.
I went to the basement and found the most expensive champagne bottle in Mark’s cellar, then poured myself a glass and sat on the porch, watching the sunset as I thought of a plan. A slight drizzle had just started again, and I closed my eyes to enjoy the soft dripping sounds and the rain scent, well aware that this was just the calm before the storm.
As far as I knew, Mark had taken the children to his late parents’ house while he waited for their flight to Costa Rica. The house was located in a luxury residential area west of Philadelphia, a five-hour drive from Emberbury. Public transport sounded like a very slow option, but the chances of May wanting to drive me so far were also quite slim. The only thing I could think of was convincing my neighbor to lend me her car for a couple of days and getting there by myself.
Yes. I’d just go and ask her. The sooner, the better.
Only I had to get rid of the champagne glass first, so that she didn’t mistake me for one of those people who liked to drink and drive. It was bad enough already that she considered me a necrophile.
I poured the champagne on a flower bed, finding an odd pleasure in the sight of Mark’s exclusive bubbly being spilled pitilessly on the ground.
“That’s going to ruin those lilies,” said a voice behind the magnolia tree. Seconds later, a cloaked man appeared beside me with a whooshing sound, and my heart skipped a beat at the sight.
Chapter 32
Clarence
Find me before time does, the note said.
The signature read Isolde, and two red amber beads, plucked from her Art Nouveau brooch, lay on the ground beside it, resembling fresh drops of blood on the grass. Alba had left her message under the tree where we had almost kissed, on a joyful night with a bittersweet ending which seemed eons away now. I stuck the cherry beads in the pocket of my waistcoat and followed her scent, which still lingered among the foliage like an invisible thread leading to her.
Once I reached her house, I hid behind the magnolia tree for a while, debating what to do next. A sense of finality washed over me, and it took all of my courage to address her, aware as I was of the inexorableness of our encounter.
“Are you the phantom of the opera, or is there a compelling reason why you need a cloak in July?” she said when she saw me. Her face hid the startlement that her loud heartbeat betrayed.
“It’s raining, isn’t it?” I answered, swirling my cloak under the drizzle, with the sole intention of amusing her. I couldn’t help but seize the opportunity to fire up that smile, even if I knew it would be short-lived. However, her tight, narrowed shoulders, together with the tremor in her voice, told me that she was acquainted with the true reason for my visit.
“And in case you were wondering, this phantom hasn’t forgotten his promise to take you to the opera one day,” I added, in a useless attempt to break the ice.
“Will it matter once you erase all my memories of you?” she asked bitterly, approaching me slowly, like I was a dangerous beast. Which I technically was.
“Oh, Alba.” I shook my head and kicked an invisible object on the floor. “Why did you have to leave like that? Elizabeth was outraged when she read your note.”
“I know,” she said, and her messy hair fell on her eyes. I fought the need to tuck it behind her ears. The repressed desire to touch her was almost painful. “So, are you going to do it? How does it work? Should we say goodbye first, or get straight to the point?” Her voice was unsteady. “Maybe say a prayer in case the magic doesn’t work and you end up killing me? I don’t know what the custom is.”
She extended her hands and took mine, then stared at me in defiance, with glassy eyes full of bottled-up teardrops.
“Elizabeth is my queen,” I told her, as a vein started to pulse under my chin. “I owe her my life and my obedience. She just wants us to be safe, and this leaves me little choice.”
“You would just kill me?” She blinked back the tears and studied me like we had just met for the first time. “Is this how it ends? After all we’ve been through, you’ll just do whatever Elizabeth tells you. So much for me being the light at the end of your tunnel.”
“For hell’s sake, Alba!” I shouted, shaking her hands off mine. “You know I wouldn’t. But what if those witches find you again when we’re not around, and they discover The Cloister? It could be fatal for all of us. You can’t walk around knowing things you should not―it’s too risky for everyone involved!”
“But I’m scared of forgetting. Even more than dying,” she said softly, leaning against the porch railing.
“Do you think it’s easy for me?” I stomped the floor with my foot, and the whole porch shook, making her wince. “I don’t know how I’ll go on once I slip from your memory. Once you are gone for good, and I don’t exist anymore in your past.”
This was so hard. So. Bloody. Hard.
I had killed before, many times. But even though Elizabeth had ordered me to end the w
itch if the oblivion didn’t work―and it wouldn’t, after so many weeks―I would never be able to extinguish Alba Andersson’s light. I’d rather end my own life on the spot than take hers. She should know that.
Hell, I was even too selfish to make her forget me. To even try.
I wasn’t there to follow the queen’s orders, but to let that witch charm me into disobedience.
“Humans can’t walk around knowing about us” I said, echoing Elizabeth’s words. “It’s too dangerous. So tell me, Alba, what am I supposed to do?” I asked in desperation.
“I don’t know,” she said, sitting on the wooden floor. “Maybe trust my word?”
Chapter 33
Alba
“I need my memories,” I said firmly. “I need to remember how I brought the light to The Cloister, because that’s the only remarkable thing I’ve done in years. The only feat which will remind me of my own strength as I fight Mark. Without that, I’m just a victim of his whims, a loser who never achieved anything of value in this life. And I don’t want to be that person. I want to know I have the power to accomplish my dreams.”
Clarence stood in front of me, his maroon eyes warm and fierce, and the dark and excessive cloak waving in the warm breeze.
It had taken me half of my self-control not to run straight into his arms, and the other half not to run away from them.
“Damn, Alba,” he said, holding his head with clenched fingers. “You know I can’t do it. I bloody can’t.”
He turned around and started to walk away.
“Wait! Where are you going?” I shouted, following him in the largest strides I was able to manage.
Clarence looked back at me, standing in the middle of my lawn. “I’ll trust you,” he said. “I’ll tell Elizabeth my job is done, that you forgot about us. You wanted to leave The Cloister, then leave. Pretend we never met. Pretend you don’t remember. But if you break your promise, and it comes to her ears, my head will be the first to roll.”