Hunted Souls

by Lisa De Palo

  She watched him nervously, half expecting him to blow up, but he hardly even acknowledged her. All she got was a slight nod of his head. It got the better of her and she knew that she had somehow wronged him.

  “Jeremiah please, I know I have hurt you but that wasn’t my intention. What do you want me to say?”

  They stood outside of O’Leary’s when he stopped and turned to her.

  “Layla, I understand what you are trying to say, but he is the one that turned you into what you are. I don’t understand how you could still want to help him.”

  She stepped up closer and offered him a warm smile.

  “I was angry for a long time for the same reason, but, I came to realize he wasn’t trying to take something from me… he was trying to give me a chance at a new life. Deep down, he believes he saved me…”

  “Saved you? do you even… ah, forget it.”

  She could see Jeremiah was furious, he wouldn’t let himself see it from any other point of view. He was an angel after all, and being reborn into a blood hungry beast was not his idea of salvation.

  But, Layla had grown, she began to understand situations for what they were rather than how they seemed. She studied Jeremiah’s poker face for a few moments before the first rays of the morning rose.

  “Thank you for coming for me… again,” she said.

  Layla stepped up on to her tiptoes, kissed his cheek and gave him a hug before leaving to go inside of the pub.

  22

  TREPIDATION

  Layla ran for his screams. They echoed through the drab corridors and bounced between the walls. There was just enough moonlight to see the cold stone floors and it glistened off the iron locks that braced each door.

  “Help!” he screamed. “Layla, help me!”

  Scattered rubbish crunched under her feet as she frantically ran with all her speed.

  “HELP!”

  His voice was wavering, he was in so much pain, she could feel it in every cry. Broken jars and antique wheelchairs were scattered along the corridors.

  She ran upstairs and down darkened halls where shadows seemed to stretch out and grab for her. It was a labyrinth, and no matter how deep she got, his voice still cried out for her.

  “Where are you?” she screamed, straining to hear a reply.

  She heard footsteps and something clanked to the floor behind her. Her pulse went crazy, she spun around and bolted to one of the room’s windows to see where she was, but the heavy, thick bars blocked her view.

  It was cold, so cold… but the chill was different, it was eerie and unnatural. She could sense she wasn’t alone.

  A sudden thump on one of the solid doors echoed down the passage. She froze - all her breath trapped in her chest. She was most definitely not alone. Someone was there in the building with her. She tiptoed down the room. Straining to hear anything. But her foot was lodged in something and as she kicked free, she fell and saw the old mattress lying half hidden in the shadows.

  The old metal springs shot off and shattered against the wall.

  Shit, shit, shit…

  She held her breath and covered her mouth so her hand would muffle any sound trying to escape. When nothing moved at her, she carefully took a step forward and felt something give slightly under the weight of her foot.

  Slowly, she leaned down and picked it up. It was something metal, she brushed away the dust to reveal faded yellow paint. She lifted up to the moonlight and the yellow letters caught the shine.

  HUNTINGTON HEIG-

  A scream shattered the silence and she dropped the sign with a crash. She froze, her muscles seizing her to the spot. She let out a scream of her own and ran out of her room. She twisted at the door and flew toward the end of the hallway. It went on and on and on, seeming to stretch out further with every step. She saw an open door and bolted for it, skidding into one of the cells.

  Her heart wouldn’t settle in silence. Thump- Thump- Thump- Something was in the cell with her. She could feel eyes on her.

  Weapon, grab a weapon…

  Slowly, she leaned down and reached for the floor. She fumbled for something… anything… A scrape along the stone next to her made her freeze. She clenched her eyes shut, waiting for the attack. But then there was a second, slow scrape, like a limping foot being dragged. She opened her eyes and saw the shadow cast against the moon. She jolted up to see as a cry broke from her lips. But there was nothing. There was no one.

  “Help!” a voice screamed from far off again. “Layla, please!”

  She strained her ears to listen. This wasn’t Marco crying for help.

  “LAY!”

  It was Dean!

  “I hear you!” she yelled. “Where are you!?”

  “Layla!… I need you… HEEELP!”

  She bolted toward the voice, she ran back up the corridor, passed the wide doors of open cells. She ran and ran, and a shadow caught her eye. Every door she passed… something was in them. She shook her head as she ran, it as a trick of the light, it had to be.

  “Where are you?” she cried out. “I can’t find you anywhere!”

  “I’m here, Layla. I can’t move,” Dean cried.

  It sounded like she was running straight at him.

  But as she ran and ran, the corridor kept stretching further and further out and the shadow-men in the cells kept watching her as she passed. She could feel their eyes growing, they were mocking her.

  The corridor suddenly snapped to an end and she crashed through the far door and stumbled face first into the hard stones of the ground.

  “Help…” a voice gasped.

  She looked up half gazed and saw Marco strung up with chains. Thick meat hooks held him in place and his body was a bloody mess of Vermillion. His skin was grey and lifeless, his limp head and dull eyes looked at her.

  “Help me…”

  His lips hadn’t moved. The room slowly filled with a warm yellow glow and Marco’s body faded away. She grasped out for him screaming for him to come back.

  “Wake up!” Came a voice. “Layla! Wake up!”

  Her eyes squinted to focus and the rough stone walls of Shannon’s cellar replaced the nightmare she had been in.

  “Jeremiah?” she whispered.

  “You were having a nightmare.”

  She didn’t answer him, she didn’t know how and he sighed.

  “Layla, you can build walls to keep out fear and sadness, but remember they also keep out love and joy.”

  “It… it wasn’t a nightmare,” she said slowly. “It was a vision.”

  23

  TREACHERY

  Layla understood there was nowhere else to go, her aunt’s house was the last remaining place that was safe for her. She pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to forget the trouble she would bring to Sophie, but she was left without a choice. Layla reluctantly nodded to Jeremiah to go there.

  Sophie was nervously expecting them at the front door when they pulled up on Jeremiah’s bike. She came down to the curb and greeted Layla with her usual warm smile and led them inside.

  “Layla, I know you don’t have much stuff with you, so I went out and bought you some clothes and things. They’re upstairs in the guest room… It’s your room now, darling.”

  Tears welled up in Layla’s eyes and she grabbed her aunt tight hoping to stop them from cascading down her cheeks.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Layla wandered up the stairs to the room and overhead Sophie talking to Jeremiah. She asked him to go and get some blood for her. She obviously didn’t want to go through what had happened last time again. The front door slammed shut as Jeremiah left and Sophie came back to the room and sat on the bed next to her.

  Layla turned to look at her aunt and couldn’t help but show her long face.

  “It’ll be okay, love, we are here with you, don’t worry.”

  Layla’s lips curled and her eyes fell to the floor.

  “Thanks,” she said. “I feel so lost. Everything has gone
wrong…”

  Sophie pulled Layla into her and Layla lowered her head to rest on her aunt’s shoulder.

  “I miss mom,” she said. “And Kendra… A huge piece of my heart died with them, you know…”

  She felt Sophie nod knowingly and then Sophie began to stroke Layla’s long hair.

  “I know sweetheart, I know. Your mom and I weren’t always close, but she was still my sister and I really did love her.”

  “Yeah, I know. I just wish things could go back to how they were,” said Layla.

  Layla tried her best to stay strong but felt her tears welling in her eyes again. She straightened her back and attempted to change the subject.

  “Sophie,” Layla said sitting up suddenly. “Can you locate Marco? I need to know if he is still alive, can you please help me?”

  Sophie pulled her arm back and pushed Layla around to face her.

  “You’re not thinking of going back to the other side are you?” Sophie said, holding Layla’s gaze. “We hardly got you back in one piece the first time.”

  Layla reassured her with a cheeky smile.

  “So, how are we going to do this?” she asked, knowing her aunt would help.

  Sophie’s eyes rolled and the side of her lip curled up.

  “You always know how to win me over, don’t you.”

  Layla hugged Sophie tight and her aunt huffed in annoyance.

  “Okay, Layla, I’m guessing that if I don’t do this then you will just head over there anyway, right?”

  Layla didn’t answer her but couldn’t keep the sly smile from her lips.

  “Do you have anything of his?” Sophie asked.

  Layla pat the pockets of her jeans and shook her head.

  “The signal will be weak without it, I will need a stronger connection with you.”

  Layla nodded her head with wide eyes and raised brows, showing that she wanted to know more.

  They went downstairs to the living room and Sophie struck a match, lit three candles and placed them on the small coffee table in front of Layla.

  “Okay, Layla, I am going to need you to do something, and you need to remain in control. I need you to bite into my wrist at the end, when I say so, while I concentrate.”

  Layla shrugged her body back. “What? Why?”

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. It needs to be done for the connection or we will have little hope of finding him.”

  “Is this the only way?” Layla asked, nervously dragging her palms down her pants and remembering how hard it had been to stop the first time.

  “It is unless you have some of his items, Honey,” Sophie said.

  Layla was petrified, her mouth began to salivate on its own and she could almost taste the metallic addictiveness of the blood.

  “If I do this,” Layla said, “then you need to make sure to shove me off hard if I can’t stop.”

  Sophie nodded.

  “I mean it, aunt, I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Yes, Sweety, I understand.”

  She watched as her aunt tapped the couch signaling Layla to sit down and Sophie found a comfortable spot opposite her.

  “I want you to close your eyes and concentrate on a happy moment you spent with Marco and visualize his face,” Sophie said.

  Layla felt her mind struggle and found it almost impossible to concentrate on the flavor of blood lingering on the tip of her tongue.

  “Concentrate, Layla,” Sophie said harshly.

  Layla’s eyelids flickered about as she tried to hold onto a single moment in time where there was true chemistry. Her eyes stopped.

  “That’s it, Layla, there… hold on to that image.”

  She could hear Sophie chanting under her breath and struggled to hold onto Marco’s image. Through the reds of her eyelids, the candlelight began flickering and shifting around as if it was being pulled by some force. She heard Sophie’s chanting getting louder and louder until she suddenly stopped. It was silent for a moment then Sophie began to speak.

  “It’s okay, Sweetheart. You can stop now,” she said.

  Layla quickly jolted her eyes open in excitement.

  “Did you find him?”

  “Not yet, I need to finish this with the bite to get pin-point accuracy.”

  Layla felt her stomach tense as a strange kind of excitement filled her. She took up her aunt’s wrist gently, and slowly wiped where she intended to lay her bite, she watched as the blue vein pulsed and could hardly hold herself back from ravaging it. Raising her eyes she took one last look at Sophie before continuing. It was odd that Sophie was sitting so calmly, prepared for the bite with her eyes closed.

  Layla lowered her head and caught the rich scent of Sophie’s life-force. It flowed through her nose and body shuddered in pleasurable delight, she could almost taste it. She opened her mouth wide and the sharp tips of her fangs revealed themselves for the feast. Her teeth broke through the first few layers of skin and sunk down deeper until small a squirt of blood lubricated her mouth.

  She heard her aunt moan and Layla gripped down harder, entranced by the sweet nectar. She heard the front door unlocking and her eyes sprung open, red from the intensity of the rush. But she wasn’t strong enough to pull away from the blood that was coursed through her veins.

  “What are you doing?” Jeremiah yelled and Layla forced off her aunt.

  She looked at Jeremiah enraged and barely recognizing him. She hissed, bared her fangs at him and held her hands out, ready to pounce.

  “Stop!” Jeremiah boomed and Layla shuddered back from him.

  It snapped her out of her trance and she shook as he stood over her.

  “I had to….” She stammered. “To strengthen the location spell…”

  His eyebrows furrowed and he rounded on Sophie.

  “To strengthen the location spell?” he spat.

  Sophie hung her head and the room went silent.

  “Are you serious?” he said and Layla felt guilt rip right through her.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t-”

  Sophie raised a hand and silenced Layla. She shook her head, and slowly raised enough courage to look up.

  “You don’t have to be sorry…” she said. “It’s me that needs to apologize.”

  “I don’t understand,” Layla said, turning to Jeremiah for answers.

  “A vampire’s bite is laced with venom,” he said, his eyes locked on Sophie. “When it enters the bloodstream it acts like an opiate. It’s how vampires paralyze their prey to drain the blood.”

  Layla looked back at Sophie, her jaw slack with shock.

  “You used me as your drug?”

  Sophie looked down, unable to meet Layla’s eyes.

  “Did you even help me find Marco?”

  She watched her aunt’s body relax, and she slightly turned her head to face her niece.

  “I found him, Layla. Please, believe me, I am so, so, so sorry for what I have done. I didn’t know that this would happen… but after the first time… it’s all I can think about. I haven’t been able to sleep properly ever since… I just needed to feel it again.”

  Layla’s head shook in disappointment.

  “This isn’t a game,” she almost yelled. “I can’t control even control it. I don’t even want it!”

  “I’m sorry,” Sophie said again.

  “Tell me where Marco is,” Layla snapped.

  Sophie nodded and her eyes fell heavily to her feet.

  “I can only tell you what I saw, and I don’t think you are going to like it.”

  Layla’s stomach dropped but she looked at her aunt, waiting for the answer.

  “He’s not dead, but-”

  She noticed Sophie look up at Jeremiah for his approval. He was still standing above them both and gave her a stern nod.

  “He’s being held in the coven, Layla. But he is weak, weaker then you could know. I don’t know what they’ve done to him, but-”

  “But he’s alive?” Layla cut her off. “That’s what
matters.”

  “He might not be the Marco you remember,” she warned.

  Layla sighed deeply at the thought Marco suffering and Jeremiah stepped up close to her.

  “You can’t go over there again,” he said quietly. “If the demons get hold of you, we may never be able to get you home.”

  Layla stood up and straightened her back. She looked at Jeremiah, eye to eye.

  “I won’t leave him there to suffer,” she said.

  “Well if you’re going I am too,” Sophie said.

  Layla swung her head in shock to look at her aunt.

  “No way,” she said.

  “Layla, I’m able to help you, and with all that I have done, I owe you. We will be stronger together.”

  “She’s right, Layla,” Jeremiah said. “Having a witch’s power to back you up will be needed, especially if you come face to face with a demon.”

  “Okay,” Layla murmured. “But I don’t feel right about it.”

  24

  PARAMOUR

  Layla was concerned for Sophie’s safety, but she knew that there was no other choice. They had spent some time coming up with a plan, any way to get in and out undetected was what they hoped for. She sat on the couch sipping on a hot cup of tea before heading out. There weren’t many words shared between them, and Layla watched as Sophie’s knee bounced in anxiety. Layla pressed her hand down on her aunt’s leg to try and calm her.

  “We can do this, aunt,” she said.

  Sophie exhaled deeply and stood tall.

  “Just wait a minute, sweetheart. I want to get you something.”

  As Sophie ducked out the room, Layla put a hand on her belly. Her baby was growing, she could feel it, and even though Jeremiah had taken the pain away, she knew that she was already starting to show.

  She tucked her shirt back down trying to hide her swollen belly as Sophie returned with a small wooden box. She sat down next to Layla and opened the lid and unwrapped the item from the black velvet, and revealed an ancient dagger. She laid it across Layla’s hands and folded her niece’s fingers around the handle tight. Layla studied the blade and the Celtic carvings on the grey ash wood.