by Darci Darson
She was determined to accept Imre with his all flaws instead.
When they reached the main entrance, visible in the chasm of the blooming night with the help of tiny flickers of candles from inside the house, a carriage pulled by a couple of black horses, arrived and stopped right behind them. As Alyssa and Imre turned to face the vehicle, a couple got off it. It was a man in his thirties with an expression marked by an alcohol overuse and a cold grey glance. His companion was a young woman, pregnant as well; she had an aura scented with a strong connection to the earth energy. Alyssa could sense her power with her whole being. It was much more potent than that of Horatia or Felicia, as if the woman had been born with natural skills to master the knowledge better than the Reese healers. The man wore elegant and fashionable clothes and the woman was dressed in a black gown with a matching jacket.
The man looked Alyssa up and down as he stopped in front of her. In the dim light from the house she could notice the hatred and anger darkening his glance.
Imre’s face sharpened and his fangs lengthened as he tensed, preparing to fight.
The woman raised her hand and the vampire fell to his knees grabbing his head with both hands as a deep groan left his mouth.
Alyssa stood still, immobilised. She tried to clear her thoughts and buy somehow more time as the intentions flowing to her from the man’s head were far from friendly.
“I received a letter from my mother,” the man started. “I dare say you must be a witch that you made my own mother leave you the house. Where is the will?” he added in a cold voice.
“Who are you?” Alyssa asked, but, in fact, she did not need to know as everything was becoming clear for her now. The faces staring from the walls, the scraps of information from Kitty and Horatia, Kitty’s scared glances. She had been enchanted by Philip, descending to his mystical world, deaf and blind to the messages coming to her all the time.
“My name is Owen Reese and you are a trespasser,” the man introduced himself. As he did so, his hand gripped Alyssa’s throat. “Where is the will?”
Alyssa could not move. Owen was not only a member of Felicia’s coven. He was much more than a healer, much more than Horatia or Felicia too. His soul was sprinkled with a strange, navy darkness that wanted to erase Alyssa. She could sense his desire to twist her neck and hurt her unborn baby as well as his internal fight for sanity and control. He was Horatia’s son and Philip’s brother. Owen was Horatia’s son who enjoyed the life in town.
“Do not hurt her,” the woman, his companion, pleaded. “She is important for our coven. Your greed is blinding you. This dark power is blinding you.”
“She is not the one that we are waiting for,” Owen said. “She is a thief.”
“Owen, please, the money is not worth it,” the woman pleaded once again.
“This is my house and my land,” Owen hissed.
“You said that I was yours and that our love is the only thing that only matters to you,” the woman said, seeming devastated. “We should not have touched that magic,” she added, entirely defeated.
“Kill the vampire,” Owen ordered.
“Release the girl,” the witch said with her shaky voice. She seemed torn between her obligations against the coven and her sick love for Owen.
Owen did not listen and as his grip grew in strength, Alyssa saw blackness in front of her eyes. She sent the last clear glance to the woman and watched her descending to the ground. Surprisingly, Owen liberated her from his clutch and stepped back as she swayed.
“Give me the papers and we shall kill only the vampire,” Owen said.
“No,” Alyssa said, somehow feeling responsible for the future of Westfad Manor and fulfilling Horatia’s will but most of all she wanted to protect Imre and her baby. She took a few deep breaths and placed her right hand against her pregnant belly.
This was her house now and her family. Owen and his companion were trespassers. She understood now why Horatia had left the house to her. Only Alyssa could now ensure its survival for the future generations of the Reese family. Owen would have wasted the estate, playing cards and drinking too much. She embraced her Varuh as well as the knowledge of the elves and whispered a quiet incantation, reaching to that balance and neutrality and channelling it against her attackers. It gave her an instant of distraction. In this moment, Imre leaped towards Owen and with a speed unable to be perceived by a human eye, he separated his head from his neck. A noise of breaking bones and torn tissues broke in the air. The beheaded corpse collapsed to the ground with a loud crunch as the separated head gently rolled at Imre’s feet.
Alyssa stepped back, wiping dark blood from her face and sitting on the ground. A dreadful silence pervaded the air. The echoes of the killing still rang in her ears.
Chapter 10
The woman rose to her feet, stroking her pregnant belly and crying quietly.
“You shall pay for this, vampire,” she said in a cold tone and got into the carriage, knocking on the edge of the roof and, as she turned back once more, peering through the door, she added, ”You shall pay because I want my revenge, but I can use you for the coven benefit.”
As the vehicle shot forward, Alyssa noticed that there was no coachman to control it; it was as if the two attached horses knew for themselves what to do. Their hooves clicked against the ground and the carriage advanced with the sound of rattling from its enormous wheels.
“Are we evil, Imre?” Alyssa asked with a flat, emotionless voice.
“He wanted to hurt you,” Imre said. “He was evil.”
Alyssa leaned forward as she observed Imre collecting the corpse and taking it to the back garden. As he disappeared round the corner, Alyssa touched her belly, deeply disturbed by the incident. She knew that Owen’s darkness had aimed to destroy her and wondered whether his infection by evil had anything to do with her stretching the rules all the time. She also wondered how Imre had found the way to embrace that darkness in him and turn it into something good.
She lifted her head as her grandpa returned, his garments soaked with wet black soil.
Alyssa could not move and she felt that the baby was preparing to leave the safety of her body.
“Imre, the baby is coming,” Alyssa said in a weak and hoarse voice as a warm and wet sensation went along her tights and knees.
Imre lifted her from the ground and, cradling her gently in his arms, transported her to her bedroom as though she was lighter than feathers. When they passed Kitty, she looked appalled with the blood that contaminated their skin and was clearly aware of the incident in front of the house. Imre looked straight into the servants eyes and recited a compulsion to make her forget about the frightening memories. Alyssa wondered why her young friend had not fled, after she had witnessed such horror. Maybe her attachment to Alyssa was far greater than her fear. Imre put Alyssa gently on her bed and left her to make sure that Jenny would not alarm anybody about the incident either.
He returned after just a moment and to Alyssa’s surprise, Imre was planning to stay with her. He wanted things his way even more than Yasmeen. Alyssa suspected that he had also controlled every tiny detail of Cherry and Yasmeen’s life, ensuring the welfare of the women that counted to him more than anything in the world.
Kitty sent him a fearful look and dropping a curtsy, she started in a quiet and timid voice, ”Sir, men should not be present in such circumstances.”
Imre glanced at her as if he wanted to behead her as well and growled, “I know what to do. I hope that you did not think about calling a midwife. They are fools with no skills. Listen to my instructions.”
Alyssa saw that her young friend let out a deep sigh of relief as she probably had forgotten to even think about bringing a midwife.
It was a night of excruciating pain for Alyssa, as well as a night full of Imre’s growling and cursing with accompanying squeaks from Kitty. In the moments, when the pain ceased, she wanted to throw something very heavy towards Imre at the same time being pleased with his atte
ntion and that he felt so responsible for delivering her baby safely. Kitty obeyed his commands with no objection, but it was clear that she had the knowledge about babies to be born far greater than Alyssa and Imre put together. Even Jenny climbed the stairs to share her advice, but sensing an atmosphere of excited arguments, she escaped as soon as possible.
The baby turned out to be a beautiful girl with electric blue eyes and blonde hair. Her facial features resembled Imre’s to such an extent that Alyssa laughed for a moment when she gazed at her baby daughter. Not to mention that the tiny face was flawless, without the thin scar that marked Yasmeen’s and Alyssa’s face.
“Calla,” Alyssa said. “This is little Calla.”
“It is a perfect name,” Imre muttered. “You could not have chosen anything more connected with graveyards indeed than this white lily.” He then approached them both, mother and daughter, and caught up little Calla in his arms, cradling her gently, kissing her little head and rocking her tenderly in his embrace. He looked so happy that nearly like a human. The bond between Calla and him seemed so natural and beautiful.
As a new day was about to dawn, Alyssa closed her eyes to get some rest, leaving Calla in the safety of Imre’ care and sending Kitty to bed. She felt somebody’s gentle touch on her forehead. She knew this hand and its caring softness. She rolled on her side to face him.
“Philip,” she whispered as her skin glowed, filling the room with her love and sadness. This was not this pearly light that Yasmeen and Rav dispersed. This was the sparkly greyness of her broken heart. “You came to me.” She gazed into his warm, loving eyes and saw this desperate sadness of his face that he was unable to give more to his daughter and Alyssa.
He leaned over her to place a kiss on her lips and brushed her cheek with his fingers.
“I cannot stay with you,” Philip said. “I shall not see you again.”
“I know,” Alyssa said as her choking cry poured out from her chest.
Philip lifted her chin and sitting on the edge of the bed, enclosed Alyssa in his loving embrace. He cuddled her with his whole warmth. It was as if he wanted to give her enough for her whole life and she could feel how much she meant for him. She was his angel, his light, his solace in the torment of his trapped soul, the love of his ended life. He then stood up and as he passed Imre and Calla, he merged with the air, disappearing. There was this sacred and mystical silence hanging in the bedroom after Philip’s departure and a crushing pain of loss in Alyssa’s chest.
“I called my father,” Imre said through clenched teeth, “but he is silent and does not answer my please. He shall not help.”
“These are the rules, Imre,” Alyssa said. “But I will find a way to break them.”
“He is a ghost and does not belong here,” Imre said.
“You are a vampire and you don’t belong here either,” Alyssa said, furious.
“Sleep, you mad woman. You are too weak to talk.” He approached the bed and holding the baby girl with one arm, caressed the back of Alyssa’s head with his other hand and kissed her forehead. “Sleep and I shall give my instructions to the servants for the day.” He was about to leave but seemed to change his mind as he sat on the edge of the bed and hugged her with a surprising warmth. The baby slept, nestled in the crook of his arm as his other arm wrapped around Alyssa. She cried quietly and trembled, melting into this vampire and absorbing his care. As her glance shifted to meet his, she saw that Imre cried with her. He left the room when the first sun’s ray brushed Alyssa’s face.
A sudden flow of memories surged through her mind now.
It was two weeks before her abrupt leaving of Iioliv. She stood on the wooden bridge, staring at the stream below. It murmured its eternal song and reflected the sun’s rays that burned her back as she leant over a solid railing that had a rose floral design. She cried quietly as suddenly the sound of somebody’s strides diverted her attention. Her glance met Ettrian’s. He was carrying a big bag filled with arrows and bows. He stopped next to her, placing the bag on the bridge.
“Tsarra told my parents about the dancing,” Alyssa exploded. “Why is she so mean to me? The elves don’t gossip. They don’t care either. Why did she tell them?”
“She is young and she is feeling offended,” Ettrian said and smiled at her.
“My parents are not cross with me,” Alyssa continued. “They are disappointed. They are not talking to me now. My mum is not talking to me. My dad is a bit worried but my mum...”
“Alyssa,” Ettrian interrupted her. “You are not a girl anymore. Tell your parents that you need more freedom. Yasmeen is not coping well with your immortality. She wants to delay things in your life as much as possible. Ask them for more independence. If you explain with respect they will understand.”
Alyssa sobbed and wiped her nose but there was more and more of the thin clear mucus pouring out from her nostrils. She buried her face in her hands as a burning sensation filled her chest.
“I need a tissue,” she murmured and jerked her head back. The mucus flowed down to her chin. Peering through her fingers, she saw Ettrian take off his shirt and get closer to her. He removed her hands from her face and gently wiped her nose and fingers with a piece of fabric as a wide grin crossed his face.
Alyssa wanted to die of embarrassment as Ettrian watched her with joy, holding the shirt in his right hand. A strap of her violet blue dress slid down her arm but she was too frozen to correct it. Ettrian raised his left hand as his fingers moved up her arm to put the strap in place. Alyssa’s subconscious was aware of the slow sensual delicacy of his touch but her whole focus was directed towards Aymar who now approached them at a fast pace.
“I have to go,” Alyssa squeaked. “Tell Aymar that I’m not well.” She moved forward but Ettrian’s hand grabbed her arm. “I don’t want to talk to him,” she whispered.
“I want to talk to you, Alyssa,” Ettrian said with a strange seriousness in his voice.
“Why?” she asked, her voice coated with confusion. “Do you want to talk about Aymar?” she questioned as her heart raced.
“No,” he said sharply. “Not about Aymar.” His expression darkened as he whispered an incantation.
Alyssa’s Varuh sensed the vibrations of strong magic. From the corner of her eye, she saw Aymar turn back and walk away. The air circled around her like a momentary violent turbulence which returned to its previous hot stillness in the next moment.
“Thank you,” she said as a sigh of relief left her mouth. “You are very powerful,” she added with admiration. “It’s dangerous to use the strong magic. You are really powerful.”
“You are very powerful too,” he said with a hint of humour, still holding her arm. “Alyssa, I know that you are still very young and we don’t... we never... Alyssa, I want to tell you that I...” His fingers almost caused her pain. A nervous blink of his eyes followed his scrappy words.
Alyssa widened her eyes as this was the first time ever that she had heard Ettrian struggling with producing a sentence.
“Alyssa,” he repeated once more. “There is a large age gap between us but...”
In this moment, Alyssa spotted a slim figure in a slight distance from them. A woman waved to them with her hand as her glittering brown gown ruffled with her movement.
“This is my mum,” Alyssa said and tore away from him. Her legs carried her towards Yasmeen who extended her arms and smiled at her. Alyssa fell into her mum’s warm arms and wept.
“I’m sorry, Mum,” Alyssa said with a faltering voice. “I should have asked you first.”
“I’m too strict,” Yasmeen admitted. “I sometimes struggle with things here. I come from an entirely different world, you know, and you’ve always been a very obedient child. I’m scared, Alyssa, this world is not safe for a young woman like you. I think that I’m suffocating you with my care but I just want you to be safe.”
“I didn’t like the gathering,” Alyssa said. “I don’t want to go there again. Ettrian took me home almost
at once.”
“Really? What was he doing there? He hates these gatherings. He is an elven social freak, avoiding these celebrations like the plague.”
“I don’t know, Mum. He seemed to enjoy the dancing.”
“Who was his partner then?”
“Ettrian taught me the steps...” Alyssa said with hesitation.
“Hello, Yasmeen,” this was Ettrian’s voice, coming from behind Alyssa’s back.
“Hello, Ettrian,” Yasmeen said but her voice was tinged with coldness. “Thank you for looking after my princess during the elven celebration last week.”
“You are welcome, Yasmeen,” Ettrian said and sent her a neutral smile.
“My princess is still too young to look for a prince,” Yasmeen said with sarcasm. “She is not planning to attend any more gatherings. She needs to focus on her education.”
“Alyssa is a sensible young woman,” Ettrian said. “She will know what is best for her.”
“She is still a girl,” Yasmeen said in a sharper voice. “Remember this. Our girl,” she added and arched her eyebrows, looking almost threatening. After a short pause, she continued, “Rav wants to set off in a week. I need more books. There must be something about inter-dimensional travel. I can’t spend eternity in Iioliv. Alyssa can’t spend eternity in Iioliv either. She needs to see a modern world so that she can choose a life that will be better for her. I want her to lead a different life than the one she has here.”
“There is one library,” Ettrian said. “Very expensive but I will pay for all the books. I want to help, Yasmeen.”
“Thank you,” Yasmeen said. “Maybe one day I will be able to take my family to my home.”
“I want to go with you all, Yasmeen,” Ettrian said. “I want to visit this... modern world.”
“One day, Ettrian, we will sit together at Westfad Manor,” Yasmeen said with melancholy. “My dad will cook something delicious for dinner and my mum will smother us with care. My grandpa will entertain us with his frivolous jokes. They will shout and argue and laugh but there will be love and happiness. You will see, Ettrian. And you will see, Alyssa, how my mum can love. I’m sure that she will love you a hundred times more than me. She will be crazy about you.”