“Today’s the day then?” The elderly lady, recognising her visitor, hobbled from around the counter, using its sturdiness for balance as they approached through the only uncluttered pathway, which led from the door directly towards the old-fashioned cash register.
“Good afternoon, Mrs Huston,” Ashley greeted, fishing in her purse before producing the remaining notes. “Thank you so much for holding it so long for me.”
“Of course, dear, and like I’ve said before, do call me Ethel. My Mabel would never forgive me if I had let it go to someone else.” Her trembling hand reached out, finding the silver bell on the counter top and gave it three soft taps to send its summons into the air. “Are you feeling better? She told me you’ve not been in work for the last week or so. Missing you something rotten, she is. She says having a youngster there keeps them young.”
“I had a temperature so they wouldn’t let me work,” Ashley explained.
“Where is that boy?” Ethel chuntered, chiming the bell three more times. “Honestly, these last weeks, getting that grandson of mine to do anything has been like pulling teeth.”
“What is it, Gran?”
Ashley, thinking she recognised the voice, turned to see Will near the door into the rear area. He gave her an energetic smile as he realised who the customers were. She couldn’t believe he was here. She had known his gran owned a shop, but she hadn’t even considered these two were related. They looked so different to one another.
“Fetch young Ashley her bike, would you?”
“Sure thing.” He pushed his hand through his golden hair before disappearing through the bead curtain into the back, causing it to rattle.
“Oh goodness me, you’re that Huston? I never realised,” Tess blurted, before she could help herself.
“What do you mean, love?”
“The Holistic Hustons.”
“Now, there’s a name I’ve not heard for a turn or two. Seems like a long time ago now.” The old lady’s features seemed to mist over, a smile tickling her lips.
“My mother used to sing your praises. She wondered what happened to you. I never realised Will—”
“I became too old, love, and our son never took an interest in the family business, he was born without the gift, you see. It ended with me, I’m afraid. Besides, my boy was all into antiquities and curios.” She gestured to her surroundings as if to make her point. “After he passed, we hung up our crystals, so to speak, to keep his dream alive.”
“Sorry it took so long,” called Will from the back. “You know, I heard you talk about paying off a bike, I just hadn’t put two and two together.” Ashley felt her heart begin to race as she set sight on the object of her desire. It was the most magnificent thing she had seen. Its midnight blue frame glistened, and its small engine shone, as if it had been recently polished.
“Yeah, thoughts of this guy have got me through many a tough week. Speaking of tough weeks, we’ve hardly seen you lately. Is everything okay?” she asked, her fingers tracing the frame affectionately, learning its every contour.
“You know me, I sometimes get busy. I got involved in a project group, it’s consuming all my free time. I’ll be sure to make it up to you soon, maybe a movie one night?”
“That would be great. You know we miss you. I can’t believe I didn’t realise Mrs Huston was your gran. How dense can I be?”
“It’s a popular name. There are three others I know of in our academy alone.” He gave her a charming smile, his gaze seeming a little too intense, as if he was waiting for something.
“Ashley!” Tess broke away from her conversation with Ethel, looking at her friend’s purchase for the first time. “You never said it was a dynamo!” Tess gushed, with a girlish lilt to her voice. She dropped to her knees before the bike as Will fully released it into Ashley’s possession. Tess ran her hands across its frame, studying the complex mechanisms that charged the in-built battery which allowed the rider to switch to assisted pedalling if they grew tired, so long as they had stored enough energy. “They don’t even make these any more. Does it work?”
“Of course it works, love,” Ethel chimed. “We changed one of the bulbs in the front light, but other than that it was in good condition.”
“Now I see why you wanted it.” Tess grinned, still running her hand appreciatively down the frame just like Ashley had done moments before. Ashley smiled back, her gaze straying to Will who stood watching them in mild amusement.
“Well, we should get going. I can’t wait to try him.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve already picked out a name?” Will teased, leaning on the counter.
“Afterglow, because that’s all you’ll see of me,” Ashley beamed. “Will you, Tess? Please.”
“Alright, I’ll get the stencils, my dad won’t mind us using his paints.”
“And tagging it?” she posed hopefully. “I’ve spent so long saving for this beauty, I’d hate him not to be registered.”
“Hey, if you wait five minutes I can get it tagged for you.”
Ashley turned to look at Will, wondering whether to accept his offer.
“We’ve got the kit in the back. We’ll throw it in as a complimentary, right, Gran?”
“Thanks, but Tess’s dad promised to check it over for me,” Ashley replied hastily, before Ethel had the chance to reply.
Tess turned to her with a grimace. “I can’t believe you kept it from me. When I asked him, I thought you meant a pedal bike.”
“He won’t mind, will he?” Will scooted around them, holding the door as Ashley began to wheel the bike forward
“Mind? It’s all I’m likely to hear about for a week.”
“Thank you, Mrs Huston,” Ashley called back, before thanking Will for holding the door. “See you later, Will.”
“Yes, thanks, see you tomorrow, Will,” Tess said. “I’m glad he’s looking a little better. I was getting quite worried,” she whispered, once the door was closed and they were far from earshot.
“We’ve not seen him for a while now. I wonder what’s going on? I know we don’t have any classes together, but he always used to join us at lunch. I know he said he has a study project, but… I don’t know, something about him seems off,” Ashley said, realising exactly how long it had been since he last sat at their table.
“I’m not sure. He’s been looking really burnt out, though. I spotted him coming out of one of his lectures the other week, but he wouldn’t even talk to me. Something is going on with him, but at least he doesn’t look like he’s joined the ranks of the walking dead any more.” Ashley felt herself blanch at the reference, earning herself a sympathetic look from Tess. “Sorry, bad choice of words. Now, let’s get this bad boy back to my place.”
Ashley was fighting the urge to sleep, her head dropping as her eyelids refused to obey her will for them to remain open. After the second time her elbow had given beneath her as she leaned on the breakfast bar, dozing in and out of sleep, she surrendered, partially at least. If her eyes were going to betray her, then she would just have to complete the preparation another way. With a freshly-made strong coffee, she settled back on the sofa and, plugging her headphones into her device, she activated the text-to-speech function.
Allowing her heavy eyelids to rest, she leaned back, cradling the coffee protectively as the words washed over her. The soothing voice lulled her into further relaxation and the words became the bridge between wakefulness and sleep as she slowly transitioned between the two. Just as the words were fading into oblivion, a sharp knock at the door caused her tentative grip on the mug to slip. Gasping as the contents spilt, she jumped to her feet, now wide awake thanks to the dark fluid soaking through her pyjama top. Snatching several tissues from the wooden box on the table, she had just started patting herself down when the knock came again.
Tip-toeing across the living room towards the front door, she continued to dab at the stain, grimacing as the wet cloth peeled from her flesh with every step she took. Just as she was won
dering who would call at this time in the evening, her vision wandered across to the antique clock that had been in the Ciele family for generations. Seeing it was 8pm, she gave a sigh. It felt much later
Cracking the door just an inch to allow her to see through, a wash of confusion enveloped her as she saw a dark-haired stranger standing on her stoop, looking nervous.
“Ashley Ciele?” he questioned, trying to peer through the door. She opened it a few more inches, instantly regretting the decision as his gaze turned to the almost transparent texture of her damp top. There was something in his expression she didn’t like. Without thinking, her hand slid down the inside of the door jamb, her fingers grasping the handle of the metal baseball bat her brother had got her for protection, her thumb resting on the button which turned this weapon into a functioning torch.
“Yes?”
“Sign here, please.” He thrust a device forward with a fingerprint signature request. Releasing a breath and the bat, she cracked the door a little further and reached through to touch her thumb to his screen before the young man produced an envelope. She met his brown eyes briefly, sensing something familiar in his presence that she couldn’t quite place. She took the manila envelope, waiting for the dark-haired stranger to let himself out of the screeching gate before closing the door.
Turning the envelope over, she slid her finger across the fold, removing a small picture with a note attached by a paper-clip.
If you want me to keep your secret, you'll have to do something for me.
The back door, midnight.
Until then,
Liam.
Ashley focused on the picture, her heart quickening as she looked upon a still image of herself in the grasp of her attackers. Their faces were a mesh of anguish. The small time stamp on the bottom suggested it was a caption taken from moving footage, a recording. She felt her heart hammer, unaware the paper within her hand was aflame, being reduced to cinders. Swearing, she dropped it, stamping on the curling paper, but it was too late to salvage anything. Turning the envelope over, she looked for a post location, anything she could recognise, only to find the envelope was blank. Snatching the door open, she dashed down the overgrown path, cursing as her bare feet caught the loose stone chips as she hurried, hoping to catch sight of the delivery man. No address meant someone had handed it to him. She had to know who. Standing at her gate, she looked left and right, hoping to catch a flash of taillights or hear the roar of an engine being brought to life, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Liam stood masked by the shadows cast by the overgrown back garden. The unpruned shrubs created the perfect cover for a slender man such as himself to fade into the background. He couldn’t believe he was actually doing this, but her blood had saved him, brought him back from the brink and now it was all he could think about. He could still recall seeing her there, lying on the bandstand bleeding, fighting for life yet unable to prevent it from fading away. He had seen what she had done to survive and had lingered in the darkness, much as he did now, ensuring she was on the verge of unconsciousness before daring to approach.
It had been his intention to help her, nothing more, but he had been weakened and exhausted from the trials of the evening. But as he saw the injury, the enormous slice expanding from the upper part of her thigh to almost her knee, he knew to fail would be to let her die. As he had sat trying to staunch the flow of her blood and knit the wound together, he felt his remaining reserves wane and his instinct took over. It had been as if he had known her blood would rejuvenate him. Through a haze of exhaustion, he found himself latched onto her thigh, suckling in the same manner her attackers had. He had taken only a mouthful, maybe two, but he felt his strength returning and her wound sealing, reacting to the surge of energy which flooded through him. No longer caring for the intimacy of the location, he greedily devoured the remaining fluid, resisting the urge to bite her and draw more of the sweet ambrosia from the jagged scar he had left.
He had not felt that energised for a long time, but the high soon wore off, and now he needed more. It was the least she could do. After all, he had saved her life. Creeping forwards, he placed a small box on the back doorstep before once more retreating to the shadows. There was no chance she would recognise him; he had already confirmed as much when he delivered the doctored image. It hadn’t been his best work, but it had needed to show very little, especially when her panicked mind would fill in the details. He had seen what she had done and mirrored it in the image as best he could. There was no reason she would doubt its authenticity.
He tensed as he heard the door handle rattle. Light spilt from inside, flooding the garden with the pale illumination, but he knew this place well. There were areas where shadows always remained dominant, especially since she had never gotten around to changing the bulb in the back security sensor.
“Hello?” He could hear the fear lining her voice, and for a brief moment felt guilty before assuring himself he was owed this. The fact that she stood there now and could call out like this, was because he had intervened. She was alive because of him.
“There’s a box on the step. Pick it up.” He watched as she stepped forward from the safety of the house, her rust-coloured hair reflecting the many red lowlights within as her eyes fixed upon the lock box. Glancing around again, as if to seek him out, she obeyed.
“What is it you want?”
“The contents are self-explanatory.” He paused for a moment, thinking he should offer her a little more incentive to comply with his demands. “How is your injury?”
“Healed,” came her snipped reply. “What am I meant to do with this?” she asked, a frown creasing her delicate features as she peered into the box at its contents. He suddenly realised his mistake. Anyone unfamiliar with Taphouses would have no idea what was inside.
“They left you to die.” The coldness of his tone surprised him. He saw her shudder, the hand not holding the small box rubbing the chill from her arms.
“What is it you want?”
“I saw what you did to them. I had to wait until you were almost unconscious before I dared save you.”
“You?” She straightened slightly, once more peering into the shadows as if they would somehow peel back and reveal him to her.
“Since that night, I’ve not been able to get you out of my mind.” He stepped from the safety of darkness, hearing her gasp as he allowed the light to wash over him. Committing himself, he approached slowly, with what he imagined to be a sinister smile playing upon his lips as he thrust his shoulders back, advancing with confident steps that she mirrored in the opposite direction. Over the threshold, he continued his approach, his steps confident, driving her backwards as her fearful gaze remained fixed upon him. When she was but a few steps from being cornered, he spoke again. “I need more.”
“More what?”
“Blood.” He saw her back collide with the work surface, and a new fear cross her expression as she realised her retreat had granted him entry into her home. “It did something to me, something amazing. I need more.” Ashley opened her mouth as if to respond, the crease of her brow showing a renewed resistance building within her, but the cold glare he fixed her with stole any words that would have come. “Before you refuse, bear in mind that I saw what you can do. I’ve tasted your blood, and I know people who will be very interested to learn of your existence. I’m not being unreasonable. I saved your life, so the least you can do is repay me.”
“I…”
“You have a choice. You give me what I want, or I tell people, some very influential people, exactly what I saw and you’ll find yourself a favourite among the Elite.” He hadn’t wanted to threaten her. He had hoped she would simply comply, pay him for his favour. But he could see nothing about this would be easy, not unless he played to her fears.
Ashley only remembered feeling this helpless twice in her life. The first time had been as she heard the grinding boom of another car ploughing into her parents’ vehicle, sending them tumbling off
the road as passers-by restrained her attempts to run to them just seconds before their car erupted into flames. The second time had been the night she had been attacked. The night this man had apparently saved her from death. It was only as she felt the small of her back pressing into the corner of the kitchen unit that she realised she was still trying to retreat from his piercing stare. Even had her legs been able to move, owing to the way he had herded her she had nowhere to run. He stood before her, a boyish smirk on his lips as he studied her in the same way he had done when delivering that envelope to her door just hours ago. Back then, she had thought his gaze lecherous, but now she saw it for what it truly was; hungry.
A chill passed through her as she leaned against the counter, praying she could keep herself upright. The sickening realisation that he knew her secret burnt like acid through her veins, sending a hot flush of colour to her cheeks. This man had feasted upon her when she had been at her most vulnerable. She was alive because of him, she owed him a debt, and now he had come to collect.
Her eyes bore into him hatefully, committing his every feature to memory. His dark, tousled hair framed his pale face, making his brown eyes seem darker than the honey shade they were. In another place, at another time, she may have found the sharp contours of his jaw attractive, but now all she could see was images of him in her mind, latched upon her flesh, drawing her life from her, a life he thought belonged to him. Through her shuddering breathing she tried to look inward, to locate the feeling of heat that had flooded her before. If she could summon whatever had brought forth that vampire-slaying power, she could free herself of him, of the danger he posed. She could save herself. But where that heat had once burned, she now found only the icy tendrils of fear.
Salvation's Kiss (Tales Of Mython Book 1) Page 11