by L. T. Kelly
“He followed your little friend.”
“My friend?” I reared my head back, my features crumpled.
She bobbed her head up and down in response. “Rose… She murdered my clan’s men. She wants the amulet, and it appears she’ll stop at nothing to get it.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? Rose was in London with me when those men died.”
“Was she, though? Those men died two days before I summoned Bartholomew. It required a little investigation before we established it had been a vampire.”
I bit my lip. In that case, I couldn’t be sure she was in London. Rose and I barely maintained contact nowadays, almost always meeting up on account of something dramatic with our mutual friend, Alex. With her marriage to Geo fraying at the seams, I couldn’t swear he was aware of where she had been at any given time, either. They both seemed to be avoiding each other. However, she had been back to London. I saw her the evening of my final dress fitting. Could it be Rose playing clever games, ensuring she kept her engagements to avoid arousing suspicion?
“Listen, I need to find him. If Rose has gone after the amulet and Bartholomew followed, then where is it?” I realised David said Bartholomew was going to Dublin, but I had to be sure I wasn’t embarking on yet another fruitless venture.
Freya tittered, only stopping after the longest and hardest stare I’ve offered anyone for many years. “You mean you don’t know?”
Pearl sighed loudly. Things were really bad, because Pearl had to be the politest of my friends.
“If I fucking knew, would I be standing here waiting for you to tell me?”
“Your family has it, Teagan. That had been part of the deal.” Her tinkling, impish laugh forced my shoulders into a cringe. “That pendant is the cause of why you were turned and how you survived your human turmoil.”
Eleven
Memory
“I need your help.”
“Where have you been? I’ve been worried about you. Rose and Geo have vanished from the face of the earth, too,” Alex said through the phone. Sleep ghosted his voice. Dawn was coming in London.
“The world has gone to rat shit. Rose is in deep shit, Alex.” My breath hitched in my throat as Pearl and I walked toward the parking lot across the moors. I pulled my coat tightly to my body. The wind whipped around me, forcing an ache of coldness that penetrated me to the bone. Poor Pearl must have suffered even more due to not bothering with wearing anything to keep her warm. She never bargained on becoming a human and being subjected to the effects of the weather.
“What happened?” The laziness extinguished from his voice now he established his maker was in trouble.
“Has she ever discussed any sort of amulet with you?”
“Amulet?” He parroted in a high-pitched voice. “No, I don’t think so. Not that I can recall.”
“I believe she’s in Dublin looking for it, and Bartholomew’s last known destination was to search for her. The amulet belongs to him, and he doesn’t want anyone else to get it.”
“If he harms a hair on her head, I swear to God–”
I cut him off. “Now isn’t the time. I’m not going to go into huge detail with what I know, but seriously, Alex. I need you to listen to me when I say this.” I sighed, knowing it would be hard for him to accept Rose’s wrongdoing in any situation. He would defend the indefensible for her, as any vampire would for their maker. “Rose is no innocent party. People needlessly died.”
“Mmmm.”
His mumble failed to convey his exact thoughts on what I said. “When you wake up this evening you need to get on a plane to Dublin. Call me when you arrive.”
His voice faded, though it sounded as though he agreed.
I’d admitted to Freya that I planned to travel to Dublin to find Bartholomew as soon as possible. I explained how he failed to make any correspondence and my worry that something had gone drastically wrong. I hated watching her face morph from a smug expression to pinched. What I told her caused her concern, too.
“You must go now. This will wear off by tomorrow evening. Use my blood to travel through the day,” she told Pearl and I with urgency, then held up her arm and sliced lightly with a small dagger into her forearm. Her red blood splashed into a wine glass. I took a sip as directed. I didn’t need much more.
“How can I be certain this isn’t a trap? That you won’t kill us both as soon as I drink this and become a helpless human?” Pearl asked, tipping her head and viewing Freya through narrowed eyes.
Freya huffed, as though entertaining a spoiled, ungrateful child. “Believe it or not, Bartholomew is my family and I care for his well-being as much as you do. However, I cannot leave my clan to fend for themselves whilst I go off on a rescue mission.” She held up her hands and rubbed them together. “Besides, the magic in me meant I could have killed you both at any point since your arrival.” She shrugged.
Freya’s words appeared to be enough for Pearl, who pressed the glass to her lips and tipped her head back, draining the contents.
We finally managed to reach the car. The walk took its toll on both our bodies.
“My feet are fucking killing me,” I complained as we both climbed into the vehicle, moaning with relief at sitting down, coupled with the heat from the blowers.
“Mine, too,” Pearl agreed. “And I’m absolutely famished.”
“There’s one food I’ve seen a lot of that always makes my mouth water, as though I’m looking at a thick, juicy vein. Now I can actually eat food, I need to try a burger.”
Pearl chuckled. “Me, too. Not that the sight of burgers does it for me in the way you describe, but it would be nice to share the experience with you.”
We pulled into the closest diner. The server shot us odd looks when we ordered burgers and fries whilst the few other early morning occupants tucked into oversized plates of breakfast. I lied, saying we had just arrived in Scotland from the States and were jet lagged, hence the request for burgers. The lady seemed to buy it.
We both groaned as we chewed on our first bite, savouring the thick beef patties slathered with melted cheese and sandwiched between a brioche bun.
“Oh, my god. Humans don’t know they’re born with all this access to food. When I lived, there was nothing like this. My people thought themselves lucky if we caught a pig now and then. The rest of the time we ate vegetables and berries,” Pearl told me, gluttonously shoving the burger into her mouth.
I scooped up the two remaining salty fries from my plate, savouring the crispy coating and fluffy potato centre. “Come on. We need to get a move on for the ten AM flight.”
We scrambled back inside the vehicle with another thirty-minute drive to the airport. My stomach ached, full to bursting, and my eyes were weary, as though I hadn’t slept for a week. The exhaustion catapulted me back to being a mother. Up all hours of the night nursing a screaming child.
“Can I ask you something?” I viewed Pearl’s side profile. She looked as worn out as I felt. I needed to keep her awake enough to get us both to the airport, preferably alive.
“Hmmm?”
“What happened to your wolf?” I’d wanted to ask her the question since she made the admission that saved my life. She, too, drank from a wolf, and I always got the inkling whatever occurred hadn’t been a platonic relationship.
“I moved to London in the mid-fifties. Claire was headed toward retirement and offered to show me a way into The Assembly. In my human life, women were only useful for cooking, cleaning, fucking and the subsequent child rearing. Only I was very different. I refused to tie myself into a miserable existence with a man.”
I nodded in agreement, aware of the struggle she suffered. I submitted to the things she mentioned, though. Some of us accepted our place in life more freely than others. “So, anyway, what about the wolf?”
“Claire, Virginia and I were close friends with an understanding of how it was to be different by society’s standards back then. We frequented many bars and clubs, and that�
�s where I met him. The most beautiful olive-skinned man…”
The memory heated the vehicle, and a smile curved her lips, the road ahead less of a focus than it should be. My heart ached inside my chest as my own memories of meeting Marc sparked beneath my breastbone.
“What happened?” I whispered, as though someone may be listening to our private conversation.
She shrugged, but her pursed lips informed me whatever she experienced took a piece of Pearl’s soul, just like Marc took some of mine.
“The same as what happened to you, he was destined to marry a woman from birth, and that is what he did.”
“And was my description of taking the blood the same?”
“Exactly. The single most divine thing to explode in my mind, like a colour spectrum of flavours igniting visions so mesmerising in my brain.” She inhaled sharply and turned to inspect my reaction. “Nothing can compare.”
Now I bit my lip, because the words she spoke held absolute truth.
“Yes, Pearl. It can, because it wasn’t real. The whole thing was bloodlust. True and pure love like what Bartholomew and I shared these last eighteen years is no comparison.”
I forced myself to think back to our relationship before the secrets I uncovered over the last few days. Could that be responsible for our downfall?
Pearl remained silent until she pulled into the car hire place and handed over the Mini Cooper to the hire company at the airport and headed to the terminal building.
Her palm closed around my arm as we walked. She tipped back her head and drew in a long breath. “I know it seems wrong to feel so happy given the circumstances we find ourselves in, but isn’t it wonderful?” Pearl turned to stare at me.
Light had peeked through the clouds, and we hadn’t burst into flames. What’s more… We stayed awake at sunrise.
Admittedly, I’d been shitting myself on the way to the airport. It wasn’t that I mistrusted what Grace told me about the witch’s blood. It was down to my own life experiences in respect to the fact that I’m unlucky. It would have come as no surprise to me if the blood hadn’t worked, that I’d somehow been immune to the effects and been left a skeleton stuck to the passenger seat of the Mini.
So yes, I stood with Pearl, holding her hand and gazing up at the miserable, overcast day, relishing in the natural daylight for a moment or two before urging her to enter the terminal building.
*****
Funny. I hadn’t lived in Dublin for one hundred sixty-eight years, yet traipsing through the streets still felt like being home. The strangeness of being awake and walking around in daylight was almost removed, because these streets had been the last I saw during the day. Okay, totally wrong to say these streets, because the city morphed into something different each time I travelled here. It was the feel of the place, the spirit, the lilting laughter flooding from the pubs, bars and restaurants I missed when visiting other cities, the exchange of friendly smiles and people engaging in conversations with strangers. Dublin had always been that way, and that was why I loved the place. Dublin stood as a contradiction to the coldness of London.
Pearl hardly spoke a word. Her eyes darted with illumination from one thing to the next, enjoying the light and the daytime bustle. It felt good to be able to walk around in the daytime, despite the dreary weather. I wished we’d been here under much different circumstances.
The black waters of the Liffey ran beside us as we wandered beside it and turned off to the famous Temple Bar, locating the towering, painted black building with round windows at the top and red, arched entrances.
This was where Freya directed us to come in search of Bartholomew. If she had the knowledge of where to go and he knew where the amulet was, why hadn’t he returned once he discovered the bloody thing? Rose had been named as the person trying to locate and take it for herself. Perhaps he had to find a new hiding place for his precious amulet. I tried the door of the building to find the entrance locked. A sign indicated the building was a nightclub and didn’t open its doors to the public until ten o’clock in the evening.
“It’s okay, darling. We can come back once the club opens.” Pearl placed a reassuring arm around me.
“I’m struggling to wrap my head around everything. What deal could have been struck involving me?”
Pearl shook her head and linked her arm through mine as we ambled away from the nightclub, which apparently belonged to my relatives.
“Honestly, I have no idea. You’re sure none of your family members are witches?”
“Not that I’m aware of. My mother used herbs to concoct tonics and herbal remedies, but she wasn’t a witch.”
Pearl stopped walking and turned to face me. “That sounds like the witchcraft of the time.”
My chin dropped to my chest when I thought back, recalling visitors coming and going from our small, backstreet dwelling. Her insistence I drink the disgusting cups of mixed brews whenever I felt under the weather rushed to the forefront of my mind.
“I hate to break it to you, but it’s entirely possible,” Pearl told me.
“You’re right. I can’t understand why she never told me all this, though.”
“I guess the right time never came. Did you have brothers or sisters who would have carried the clan on?”
“No. I’d been conceived before my parents moved to the city.” I slapped a palm to my forehead. “Witches aren’t city dwellers. She tried for more children. She told me after I gave birth to Lily just how lucky I’d been to have two children.”
My mother soared to an entirely new level in my mind. Both my mother and father were jolly and welcoming. My father struggled to find work in the countryside. My mother didn’t really discuss my grandparents. She explained them away, saying my father didn’t fit in with them.
“Aunts, uncles?”
“Maybe. I’m not sure,” I admitted. “But I never met my mother’s family. They were more southern and lived in the countryside. The owner could be a distant cousin, I guess.”
Things fell into place inside my head. My mother had been raised in a clan. I guessed the clan’s home was much like the one in Ancrum. Only she hadn’t married into the clan, and I could only imagine this didn’t fit with them. So she left with my father and built a life in Dublin. My dad had been a labourer, and my mother made a living with her tonics, which were more in demand than she could keep up with. Now I understood why. They’d been fashioned from magical hands.
“What I don’t understand is why Bartholomew would entrust such an important item to a witch in the city, vulnerable and alone without belonging to a clan?”
Pearl rose both brows, her voice sounding far away. “Ahh… It’s a perfect notion really. People don’t expect witches to be found alone in a city, so why would anyone come looking for a magical amulet here?”
“Yes, but whoever he entrusted it to took a huge risk by agreeing.”
“From what Freya said, they did whatever they did for you. Why would they do that?” She squeezed my arm tighter to her side.
“My husband was handy with his fists. The more he drank, the worse things became.” I didn’t look at her as I spoke.
Once we knew we couldn’t access our destination, I guided her through the streets toward the small hotel Bartholomew and I used whenever we visited Dublin. Both my children’s graves, Charles and Lileth, were situated in the city, and we also created a memorial to both Thomas and Victoria here, as well. It sounded like every trip we took to Dublin was morbid, but each one had been anything but.
Perhaps it was all in my head, but the blood of my countrymen and women tasted so much better than anywhere else. It invigorated me.
We arrived in front of the hotel. I hesitated. “I’m not sure if we should check in yet. Do you think we look and smell human?” I asked her.
“Hmm, possible.”
“This hotel is owned by a vampire. A close friend of Bartholomew. He used to be friends with Thomas and Victoria, too. I’m not sure I can completely trust him wi
th the information about the witches.”
“Won’t it be his human staff, though?”
“Yes, but how can I explain how I got here? We don’t have crates.”
“We need to worry about that later. I don’t know about you, but all this walking has exhausted me. I need to sleep.”
“Me, too.” I tugged her down the street to a human hotel and checked us in.
We entered the room. I checked my watch. “I don’t want to give your location away, but I need to ask a favour.” My aching muscles tensed even further, and I became convinced I’d vomit due to the swirling in my stomach.
“Yes?” Pearl indicated I should continue with a nod of her head.
“I need you to contact someone from The Assembly and ask them to explain to the wedding guests this evening that it won’t be going ahead, but they ought to enjoy the party.” I swallowed hard, but it did nothing to deflate the growing lump in my throat.
“Consider it done.” Her eyes slanted downward, but she managed a soft smile.
Pearl appeared to fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, but my mind whirred on overtime. I thought about Bartholomew. It had been on the same street where the club was that he kneeled down, producing a small, velvet box from his pocket.
“Would you do me the fine honour of becoming my bride?” His eyes had twinkled in the streetlight.
He must have known I’d say yes. My hints about wanting a successful marriage were not so subtle. I never displayed my internal longing for his commitment, but looking back, I must have somehow.
I recalled arriving back at the hotel, the champagne resting on ice. He undressed me, his eyes hungry as they travelled over my body. I couldn’t see how anyone could tire of looking at him.
We stood opposite each other. The huge, sparkling diamond rested heavy on my finger as my hand smoothed over his muscular chest and I dipped my head to kiss it. “I love you,” I told him, flooding me with warmth.