Blood Memories vm-1

by Barb Hendee

  "You were fortunate."

  "And look how splendidly things turned out," he rasped. "He deserves more. Mother and I deserve less."

  Part of Eleisha wanted to stop him, to urge his secrets away. These words were born of exhaustion and sorrow. Right now he needed someone to talk to. Tomorrow he would despise her for knowing his weakness.

  Suddenly, that didn't matter.

  "Things don't always work out the way we plan," she said. "Your father is proud of you. He always has been. Don't you remember his laughter at your party? Not false or forced-a happy night."

  "Does he remember me? Does he know who I am?"

  "Of course."

  "How long have you been sleeping in here?"

  "Two years. He has trouble sleeping. Bad dreams."

  Eleisha watched Julian's tall form as he stood for a long while beside William's bed. Then, without a word, he turned to the door.

  "Sir?" she said quietly.

  "What?"

  "Tomorrow I won't remember any of this. I won't remember you were here."

  He stared at her briefly and then walked out.

  "Heartless thing!" Katherine wailed. "Cold and cruel, like a lake in December."

  Why Julian didn't simply leave remained a mystery to the servants. Each night, his mother's railing grew worse. She hounded him in the halls, cried to him in the study. His face betrayed obvious horror, but he seemed unable to escape. Some invisible force held him at Cliffbracken, refusing to let go. He ate nothing, slept all day, and sat staring at Lord William most of the night. Eleisha grew accustomed to his presence and even slept well. A bizarre scene. Scandalous. A young lord, an old lord, and a serving girl spending each night in the same room. But no one said a word.

  "It will be my fault if he dies," Julian whispered through the dark.

  "Of course it won't," she whispered back. "Don't talk like that."

  "No, it will be. Mother's right about that part at least."

  This obsession grew worse, and Lady Katherine sensed it. "Why don't you help him? Why don't you save him?" she cried at dinner the next evening. Neither of them ate a bite.

  The pressure built. The storm gathered for weeks before exploding into a nightmare. Eleisha heard Julian cry out from the study, and then the sound of books being thrown.

  "All right! All right, Mother. But this is your doing. Your wish. If he hates me afterward, I'll kill you myself."

  What was he going to do?

  Fear closed Eleisha's throat. Julian swept into Lord William's room, eyes gone red. "Get out," he snarled at her.

  "What are you going to do? I could hear you shouting from here."

  Without answering, he grabbed her arm and threw her out the door. His hand felt cold. She hit the hallway wall and fell, scraping her elbow. Lady Katherine climbed up the last step on all fours, wispy hair hanging loose, an insane, triumphant look on her face.

  "What is he doing?" Eleisha asked. "You've got to stop him."

  "It'll be fine now, dear," Katherine whispered. "Just fine. Go to your room and stay there."

  For reasons beyond logic, beyond fear, Eleisha got up quietly and did as she was told.

  The next day, Lady Katherine did not emerge from her private quarters, and Lord William had vanished.

  "Where could they have taken him?" Eleisha asked a sniffing Marion.

  "I don't know. It's a loony house, it is. What with them shouting through supper 'bout God knows what."

  "Lady Katherine's mad."

  "'Course she's mad! They're all mad. You just noticing that now?"

  The day passed silently. Several cooks and servants slipped away without collecting wages. No one blamed them. Julian's habit of emerging in the evenings made Eleisha wonder if she shouldn't follow suit and disappear before dusk.

  But what about William? She couldn't leave him. And what if she interfered? Julian would kill her. That much seemed certain. If it had been anyone but Julian, her courage might have won.

  Knowing she could not pack up and run, she simply went to her room before sundown and locked the door. Perhaps events would work themselves out. She would just wait. Despite Marion's outburst, Eleisha knew Julian hadn't lost his mind. To the contrary, if anyone had control of this terrible situation, he did.

  The screaming began shortly after dark. Eerie, keening wails from Lady Katherine swirled up through the floorboards. She wailed on and on until nearly ten o'clock. Eleisha pulled a comforter off the bed and crouched down inside the closet. Around midnight, she had just drifted off when a loud, smashing sound jerked her awake.

  "Where are you?" Julian shouted.

  He was in her room. Sounds of the bed being jerked amidst gasping snarls terrified her into silence. Maybe he wouldn't think of the closet. Maybe he'd just go away.

  The fragile whitewashed door flew back as its hinges were ripped out. Julian's hand closed over her wrist, his eyes bloodshot, his breath stinking of something stale and sweet.

  "Please, please don't…" Fear drove every other thought away. In all her life, Eleisha had never begged for anything-not food, not money, not mercy, not pity. But she begged now, like a frightened, kicked dog. Her fingers clawed at his. "Please, let go."

  "Quiet."

  He yanked her up and toward the door. By the time they reached the hall, she was sobbing. A familiar face peered out from the opposite room.

  "Marion, help me!"

  No one answered. Marion couldn't stop Julian. Nothing could.

  He dragged Eleisha straight to the end of the hallway and slapped the end wall with his free hand. To her amazement, it opened up to a black stairwell. Turning, he picked her up with one arm and descended the stairs rapidly. She stopped fighting and clung to his neck, too numb to think.

  Soft light emanated ahead. Julian ducked his head below a beam and entered a glowing open space with stone walls decorated by four torches. Lady Katherine sat in a heap on the floor.

  Dead center of the far wall stood a door. Dead center of the door was a two-foot barred window. Julian carried her over to it.

  "Look inside," he whispered.

  Barely discernible muttering drew her attention before she made out the room's occupant. William paced back and forth in a ceaseless flow of motion, talking to himself.

  "Lord William."

  The sound of her voice caused him to whip his head around. She grasped the bars in helpless frustration, but then pulled back when he rushed up to her. His prominent wrinkles had deepened to dried creases, his flesh looked chalk-white, and dried blood covered his hair and cheeks.

  "What have you done to him?"

  "This place used to be a prison," Julian said. "Not a legal prison, but a place where my grandfather locked away troublesome servants and relatives. I used to play here as a child, pretending the cells were full of people. Father always hated it here."

  "What did you do to him?"

  "Made him immortal."

  "No, you failed!" Lady Katherine cried from the floor.

  Julian's body shook slightly, and for a moment Eleisha thought he might begin screaming himself. But his voice went on in low, controlled tones. "He is an abomination now, not what was intended. I worried about his reaction, his morality, trapping his once-sharp mind in an aged body, but never this. His illness is forever now. I've damned him to eternal senility."

  Julian's white shirt was soiled and stale. He smelled of mold and something sickly sweet. Waves of fear washed through Eleisha.

  "Please, put me down," she said.

  "No. My father must leave this place. I can't bring myself to kill him, but he has no place here."

  "You want me to take him away?" Her heart rose slightly. Julian might have slipped over the edge with his mother, but he might let her take William and run. That was almost too much to hope for. "I'll take him far away, as far as you like. Just unlock the door and let him out."

  "It isn't that simple," he whispered. His jaw twitched. "You'll die in one lifetime, and then what happens to hi
m?"

  He walked over against the wall and slid down, holding Eleisha in his lap with one tightened arm. "Whether you believe me or not, I find this regrettable. You aren't the right type any more than he is."

  She sobbed once and tried pushing him away as he grasped a handful of loose hair to pull her head back. "I'm weak and tired," he whispered. "This will hurt."

  The world exploded into white. Awareness waxed dull, and memories grew dim. Eleisha didn't feel his teeth, but thought his lips were burning, crisping the flesh on her neck. Pushing at his chest, too lost to cry, she grew light and faint until the ceiling seemed inches away. Perhaps it was.

  Her eyelids fluttered. His white face looked down from directly above, teeth ripping at his own wrist. He forced it into her mouth. "Take it back. All of it."

  Warm.

  Rich.

  Liquid flowed freely into her mouth, and when it stopped flowing, she bit down to draw more. Heaviness filled her again, then darkness.

  Eleisha woke up in the crook of Julian's arm, lying on the dirt floor, stunned to find she had both wet and soiled her nightdress. Lady Katherine was gone. William whimpered from his cell. How much time had passed?

  When she sat up, Julian stirred. She stared at him. "Your wrist is still bleeding."

  "Get cleaned up and pack a bag. Then do the same for my father."

  "Where are we going?"

  "Just do it."

  An hour later, the three of them were traveling in a carriage at top speed down the coast road. Eleisha feared Julian was going to kill the horses.

  "You're driving them too hard."

  "Quiet."

  "Where are you taking us?"

  "I've booked two tickets on a ship to America. It's an old cargo ship, and you can't feed on the sailors. Don't try to eat any real food, or you'll be no good to anyone. Just manage by draining rats or whatever else is available. I've heard we can last up to three months like that if necessary. You'll have to hunt for my father as well. Stay out of the sun completely, or you'll die. Are you listening to me?"

  "Julian, I don't know what-"

  "Just do as I say!"

  She clutched tightly to William's shivering form and remained silent for the next two hours. When they pulled into a small wharf town, Julian hid the carriage in an alley and jumped out. "Stay here no matter what happens. I have to hunt."

  Eleisha lost track of time. She sat, comforting William and waiting in terrified confusion. She almost sighed in relief when Julian's tall form slipped around the alley corner, and he climbed back up beside her. His face looked fuller, healthier.

  "You have to feed before boarding. At least once." Using his own teeth, he tore at his wrist again. "Here, drink this."

  "No."

  He grabbed her head and forced his wrist in again. The warmth grew overwhelming. A hunger touched her mind, and she bit down again, this time consciously hating his closeness but unable to stop. He finally pushed her away.

  "What am I?" she asked without emotion.

  He didn't answer, but turned instead to William. "Open your mouth, Father."

  William tried feeding, but spat and choked blood on the carriage seat.

  Eleisha grasped his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

  "I don't know," Julian answered, troubled, confused, but perhaps beyond caring. "That is your concern now. Besides sending you money, I wash my hands of this. He is your charge, your responsibility." He pushed a velvet bag into her hands. "This should see you to America. My banker will open an account for you in New York."

  "I don't know anything about banks… I don't know anything about America."

  "Come with me."

  Helping William, she followed Julian down to the dock. A stocky man dressed in a blue uniform awaited them. "Yes, sir," he said nervously. "I've prepared a space in the hold, as you asked."

  "The old man has a skin condition," Julian said. "He's not to be out during the day. His maid will stay with him at all times."

  "Very good, sir."

  Julian handed the man a pouch of money and walked away. He never looked back.

  Three nights later, hunger struck. It was faint, uncomfortable at first. They had no rooms to speak of, only blankets laid on the ship's floor in the windowless cargo hold. William crawled around, sniffing the blankets like an animal.

  "Lunchtime, yes, it is. Must be lunchtime."

  Remembering Julian's last words, Eleisha cornered and caught a squealing rat, amazed at how swiftly her body worked and how easily she had sniffed the creature out.

  "Here," she murmured through cracked lips. "Bite down on this and suck."

  William snapped down as though the rat were a juicy bit of fruit. She watched in dull horror as he drained every last drop of blood and fell back in exhaustion without choking or spitting as he had with Julian.

  Wanting to vomit, but finding herself unable, Eleisha lay on the floor and stared into darkness.

  "What am I?"

  Chapter 14

  Wade pulled out of my head and lay back on the carpet. Funny how he was always the one to jerk away first.

  "What's wrong?"

  "I can't look anymore," he choked out. "Need to stop."

  "Are you okay?"

  "It hurts."

  My hands shook from intense emotion, and I realized why Wade asked so many questions after letting me read his memories.

  "That old man downstairs is the same Lord William?"

  "You know that," I answered. "You can recognize him."

  "The memories are hard to take. What Julian did to him. What he did to you."

  "It's more complex than that. The nobility labors under a pride you could never understand. Julian epitomizes that mental trap. He got lost in it."

  "That doesn't make him any less of a bastard."

  "No," I said slowly, regaining my composure. "It doesn't."

  "I thought Dominick had lost his mind," he whispered. "You do live on blood, don't you?"

  "Yes."

  "Did Maggie?"

  "And Edward Claymore."

  Long-fingered hands drew up to cover his face. "Your thoughts were so different back then. You were so-"

  "Ignorant? Naive?"

  "Compassionate."

  "That was a long time ago." I laughed. "Julian left us to fate, hoping we'd drop off the earth and fall into whatever pit waits for incompetent vampires. But we didn't. Edward showed me what my gift was, and I taught myself to use it."

  "You'd do anything to survive, wouldn't you?"

  "Probably. So would you."

  He sat up suddenly and fingered the bottom edge of Maggie's satin comforter. "What do you want, Eleisha? Showing me that past was painful. I could feel how much it hurt. You never would have let me in without a reason."

  "Could you feel everything as I experienced it? Like you were there?"

  "Yes." The psychic in him canceled out morality for a moment. "Everything-fear, horror, love, pride-like being inside a movie, watching your life flow past me."

  "Did you have any emotions of your own?"

  His eyes dropped. "Pity. Frustration."

  "Frustration?"

  "That I wasn't there. That I couldn't do anything."

  His reaction caught me off guard, as I wasn't emanating my gift. "You couldn't have helped us, Wade. No one can stop Julian."

  "You still haven't answered my question about what exactly you want."

  "I've changed my mind about leaving. I want to keep William in this house-moving terrifies him-and I want Dominick to leave us alone."

  "He won't quit."

  "Then make him think we've run. I can charge a set of airline tickets to Boston or Sweden or China. Pretend to track the charge card down like last time. Just help me convince him we're gone."

  He stood up and walked over to the cherrywood vanity table, lifting a small crystal bottle of perfume. "How many people a month do you have to kill?"

  "What?"

  "How many?"

  "Don't judge me.
I didn't do this to myself."

  His shoulders were hunched forward. I realized how torn he must feel. How would I have reacted in the same situation one hundred sixty-nine years ago? How would anyone react? "If it makes you feel any better, William lives on rabbits."

  "Rabbits?"

  "Yeah." I almost smiled. "Want to walk out back and see my hutches?"

  The corners of his mouth curved up slightly, but no words came.

  Maybe he felt it a split second before me. The world slowed down, and I watched his knees buckle just before the waves hit. Psychic energy cut off my own physical control and passed through my thought patterns in rapid bursts. It was not agonizing, not like the death of Maggie or Edward. The release was milder, yet more vivid.

  Visions of green fields, pheasants, a young Lady Katherine, rabbits, chess pieces, wolfhounds, and most of all, myself… image after image of myself. I could see his dreams, the focus of his undead energy leaking out, dissipating into space.

  No!

  It went on for what felt like hours. I couldn't move. I couldn't get up. I cried without tears, caught in the choppy sequences of his confused, beloved mind.

  "Eleisha." Wade's sweating face looked down into mine. He was gasping for air. His eyes were wild. "Dominick's in the house," he breathed. "William's dead."

  We both knew it was true, but I still cried out, "No!" and struggled up on all fours.

  "You can't help him! He's gone."

  This was too much. Too much. I couldn't think or cope or even feel anger.

  "Hide here. Stay here," Wade rushed on. "I'm going downstairs. Whatever happens, don't open the door."

  I should be protecting him. Hiding him. Fighting his battles. But I didn't. My William was gone, murdered, and I'd been upstairs, sharing memories with a mortal.

  Frozen in sorrow and guilt, I just crouched there and watched Wade walk out.

  William. My William. What did his body look like?

  A sharp confusion struck me, and I could see an aged, headless corpse.

  I was looking through Wade's sight line.

  Without conscious awareness, we'd slipped into each other's minds. He experienced my sorrow. I saw through his eyes. It didn't occur to me until later to wonder at how easy, how utterly natural this feat had been.