Blood

by K. J. Wignall

  Eloise had already decided and said, “It makes sense— they knew Jex, so they’d be able to tell us about him. And maybe they can help us find the church.”

  Will shook his head.

  “Impossible. Going to Chris and Rachel would mean telling them who I am or at least something of what I’m about—that’s a risk I can’t afford to take.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because that’s how I’ve survived all this time, by having as few people as possible know me.” Eloise didn’t seem convinced and he added, “Besides, I didn’t tell you before, but something troubled me about their behavior, the way they stared at me, the way my wound flared up when they came near.”

  “Maybe for the same reason that the spirits opened the book on this page, and why Jex wrote about them knowing, because they’re part of this—they must have information we can use, and trust me, they’re good people.”

  “Perhaps they are, but you also have to understand my need for caution. The spirits opened that book, but we don’t know whether it was a sign or a warning. For all I know, those spirits are summoned by Wyndham, just as Edward’s was.”

  “You know they weren’t!” She sounded angry and certain, and hardly softened as she said, “Look, something led you to Jex, something led you to me, and now the same thing is leading you to Rachel and Chris. There’s a good reason for it, I know there is, and I’m asking you to trust me on that.”

  Her determination to involve Chris and Rachel was surprising and, with a slight pang, a shadow of the rejection he’d known before, he wondered if she was already tiring of his cold company and wanting to be back with living people again.

  “I do trust you, but I can’t …”

  “Then prove that you trust me!”

  “You don’t understand, I …”

  “I heard them.” Her voice was fierce and had a challenge in it, and in response to his look of confusion, she said, “I heard what the spirits said. Earlier, and again in the pool, about sacrificing me when the time comes?”

  He was momentarily speechless, bewildered by the revelation because she’d shown no signs of having heard them. And he wondered if this was why she wanted to go to Chris and Rachel—she’d been testing him and now she feared that he would sacrifice her.

  He said, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Because I thought you might be frightened, that you might want to leave, and I don’t want you to leave. And because whatever happens, I will never sacrifice you, no matter what comes.”

  Eloise smiled a little and said, “That’s what I hoped. I’ve known you such a short time, but I already know I can trust you completely. So now I’m asking you to trust me.”

  Will shook his head in amazement, that she could have so much faith in him after so short a time. He reached out and took her hand in his, feeling the warmth and the pulsing blood, wishing it did something more than remind him of how much life she had to lose.

  He looked down at her fingers covered in silver rings and said, “Do you mind if I do something?” She shook her head. “It’s just that you have such beautiful hands….” He gently eased one ring free, then the other two, exposing the pale, slender beauty of her fingers. He looked down at her hand resting in his and was overcome with a barrage of memories and half-memories, glimpses of the life that might have been his.

  Eloise looked down, too, and as if having the same thoughts, she said, “Men are meant to put rings on a girl’s finger, not take them off.”

  “If only I was a man like other men.” Reluctantly, he let go of her hand and gave the rings back to her. “I’m afraid of what I might be leading you into, but I do trust you.”

  She smiled and said, “So we can go to see Chris and Rachel?”

  He nodded and smiled, too. He’d already shown more trust in her than he had in anyone since the day of his sickness, and he knew he would yield to her on this, too. It was even possible that she was right about Chris and Rachel possessing knowledge he needed, but the thought of returning to the Whole Earth still filled him with unease because of all that he didn’t know about them.

  What had they seen? What did they know? Above all, if they meant him no harm, why had his ancient wound flared up in their company, reminding him that he had once been bitten, and of all the pain that had since flowed from it?

  17

  It was approaching eleven and the mood in the city was edgy and volatile. Groups of young men and women moved about the streets, many of them drunk, shouting and laughing. For now, the crowds were still light-hearted, but the promise of violence was everywhere.

  Perhaps it was because of the strangeness of the last few days, but Will also sensed, as he had before, that the threatening air about the streets was being caused by something greater than the drink-fueled ugliness they could see all about them.

  It was as if the city itself was preparing for some impending catastrophe. There had always been talk of ghosts and darkness here, even in his boyhood, and now that darkness seemed to be seeping from the stones and timbers as much as it was descending from the heavens.

  What he didn’t know was whether he saw this now only because of his own mood, because of the confusing events overtaking him, or whether the disturbance he felt all around him was real and, worse, if it was happening because of him.

  He supposed he and Eloise made a dramatic pair— pale and dressed in black. Their appearance made them stand out from the crowd and Will heard a couple of snide remarks here and there, similar to the ones Taz had made, but they kept their heads down and walked on.

  Eloise could hear the comments, too, and at one point she said, “It’s funny, I hate violence, but it’s nice knowing you could probably see off all these people if you wanted to.”

  “Yes, I could,” he said. “Except my existence relies upon keeping a low profile. It’s why I’m uneasy about meeting your friends again.”

  “But you’re still coming,” she said, pointing out the obvious.

  “I’m still coming,” he said, and smiled, and they turned into one of the narrower streets where it was quieter.

  It was eleven by the time they got to the Whole Earth and the last customers were just leaving. Chris was saying good-bye to them and clearing tables, but his expression changed when he saw Will and Eloise approaching. He looked at them expectantly as they reached the door.

  “We need your help,” said Eloise.

  Chris looked as if this was something he’d hardly dared hope for and said eagerly, “Of course, come in.” He stood to one side and then locked the door behind them, changing the sign from OPEN to CLOSED.

  He stood for a moment, indecisive, and then Rachel came out of the main room and smiled broadly as she saw them. “Hello, you two! This is a nice surprise.”

  “They need our help,” said Chris. Will saw the same expression in Rachel’s eyes, that of someone whose lucky day had come. He knew this was wrong, and not just because of the wound on his arm, which was almost burning in their presence. Just standing there with them, he felt like a rare moth lured into their light trap. Only Eloise’s reassuring looks kept him from running back into the night.

  Rachel smiled warmly and said, “Why don’t you come with me through to the house?”

  “I’ll finish up out here,” said Chris as Will and Eloise followed Rachel through the kitchen and into a connecting corridor.

  The building had clearly been extended considerably at the back since its early days because Rachel now showed them into their sizeable, if rambling, living accommodation.

  Bookshelves covered most of the walls, and where there weren’t books there were crystals and odd little statues. It looked like a more cluttered version of the café.

  Rachel showed them into a sitting room where two dark green sofas faced each other across an Oriental coffee table.

  “Please, sit down. I was just about to have green tea— would you like some?”

  “Thanks, I’d love so
me,” said Eloise.

  “Not for me, thank you.”

  “Can I get you something else?”

  “Thank you, but I’m fine, really.”

  Rachel nodded before walking away.

  Eloise took off her coat and sat on one of the sofas. Will remained standing for a moment until Eloise gestured for him to remove his own coat. He did so and sat next to her and looked casually at the walls of books, some of which looked old and rare enough that he might consider them for his own collection.

  Eloise was looking around, too, and said, “Isn’t this great? I really like the feel of the place.”

  Will nodded and said quietly, “Haven’t you been here before?”

  “Not in the house part.”

  He wondered if she had a single suspicious bone because she didn’t seem to consider it at all strange that Chris and Rachel should suddenly be giving them such special treatment. Even after Will had voiced his concerns, Eloise still couldn’t see anything sinister here, only good people and honest hospitality.

  Before he could say any more, Rachel came back in with a tray. There were three large cups of green tea and a plate with some type of coarse-looking biscuit on it.

  She was just setting the tray on the table when Chris also came into the room and the two of them sat on the sofa opposite. As Rachel handed out the tea, she said, “Will, I feel awful you sitting there with nothing. Are you sure there isn’t …”

  “Really, I’m fine, but thank you for offering.”

  Rachel shrugged in surrender and offered the plate to Eloise. She took a biscuit just as Chris said, “So you said you needed our help.”

  The biscuit stayed suspended halfway to Eloise’s mouth as she answered. “Yeah, we need you to tell us what you knew about Jex.”

  Will studied the couple closely as she said this. They didn’t look at each other, perhaps because it would have been too obvious, given that they were both facing the same direction. But their reactions were almost identical—both looked slightly surprised, suggesting they were expecting a different question.

  Chris hesitated, as if wondering whether he could move the subject back to what he really wanted to talk about, but then gave a big sigh and said, “We don’t know a great deal. He’d been doing a doctorate at the university, theology, I think, but he dropped out years ago, went traveling, then came back here. That was when we first met him, only because he came in here. He became quite a regular.”

  Rachel added, “Chris helped him out with some money, but he insisted on repaying it a couple of months later.”

  Eloise looked frustrated and said, “Did he ever talk about the city, you know, about its dark side or about its history?”

  Chris said, “Sure, he often babbled on about things like that. But then so do we.”

  Eloise tried one last time. “So there was nothing else unusual about him?” She used the end of the question to finally take a bite of the biscuit.

  They both shook their heads, but then Rachel said, “Oh, except for the blackouts.”

  “Yes,” said Chris. “Of course, I didn’t think about that.”

  “He had blackouts. Had one in the café once, and while he was out, he began speaking in Latin.”

  Will said, “What did he say?”

  “I don’t know—it was Latin.”

  “You don’t speak Latin?”

  Chris looked incredulous and said, “Do you?”

  “I do, a little,” offered Eloise.

  Will avoided answering by waving his hand at the room as he said, “I just thought you both must be very educated.”

  “I suppose we are,” said Rachel, “but sadly, neither of us are linguists.”

  As if a door had somehow been opened to other matters, Chris said casually, “What about you, Will, where are you from?”

  Will could feel Eloise become tense, and Rachel was equally on edge, trying too hard to look casual now. Chris was a better actor, remaining fresh-faced and open, as though it had been the most innocent question in the world.

  Will understood intuitively that the time had come to find out what they were about. They knew something about him and he had to find out what it was before this went any further.

  “Where I’m from is less important than where I am. Why have you allowed me into your house?” Rachel and Chris looked at each other, unsure how to respond. Eloise still seemed uncomfortable, but with Will’s tone now rather than Chris’s question. “You know nothing whatsoever about me, yet on our second meeting, here I am sitting in your home. Why? I doubt you afford this level of hospitality to even your most regular customers, so why would you do it for a stranger? Why am I here?”

  If they were innocent, if they really knew nothing about him and he’d misinterpreted their stares and Jex’s words, this was the moment at which they’d take offense and ask him to leave. They didn’t.

  Rachel and Chris sat immobile, unable or unwilling to answer. Eloise shifted slightly in her seat—he had the feeling she’d have run out of there in embarrassment if given half a chance. It was the kind of awkward social situation she probably spent most of her time trying to avoid and she was undoubtedly wondering why Will had stepped over that mark, but he knew he was right.

  Finally, Rachel sighed heavily and said, “Show him.” Chris looked at her questioningly and she said, “Chris, it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve made complete fools of ourselves. Besides, I’m not in any doubt.”

  “Nor am I.”

  She nodded. “Get the laptop—show him.”

  Chris got up and left the room and came back a moment later with something that, to Will, looked like a large slim book made out of silver. He opened it up, placed it on the table in front of him, and pressed some buttons.

  Chris looked at Eloise then and said, “You know we’re massively into the occult, the supernatural. I mean, we’re not witches or anything, but we’re passionate about it.”

  Before Eloise could acknowledge the point, Rachel added, “We’re trying to establish a chair of parapsychology at the university.”

  “That’s amazing,” said Eloise, apparently genuinely impressed.

  Chris continued, “Well, I suppose we were always interested, but what I’m about to show you is what first really got us going. On the surface, it doesn’t look much, but it made us both believe that there was more to this world than you see on the surface.”

  Chris turned the laptop sideways so that they could all see its screen. He was about to press another button, but Rachel stopped him, saying, “Hold on, you’ve got to tell them the background first. You can’t just show the film.”

  “Of course,” said Chris. Will got the impression they’d shared this so often, and the story was so familiar to the two of them, that Chris forgot the need to explain anything. “We were students at the university here. That’s how we met, in our first year.”

  Rachel smiled at Eloise and said, “Can you believe it? We’ve been together ever since.”

  “That’s beautiful,” said Eloise.

  “So it’s in our first year, a spring night in 1989,” said Chris, and Will immediately became uncomfortable, realizing that the date coincided with his last period of activity. “I’d just got a camcorder, which was really cool, and we were out to see how it worked at night, just fooling around in the square next to the cathedral, filming each other, being stupid.”

  “But the important thing is, it’s the early hours and a weekday, and there was no one else about, no one at all.”

  “That’s right,” agreed Chris. “It was just the two of us, so we were pretty freaked out when we looked at the film later and there’s a third person in shot. Was it a ghost? We had no idea, but it was eerie, I know that much.”

  Rachel shook her head at the memory of it and said, “I can still remember the hairs on my neck standing up when we first watched it.”

  “So that’s the story. Here’s the film.” Chris turned the laptop a little more, making it easier for them to see, th
en leaned over and pressed the button. A freeze-frame image appeared and then the film stuttered into life.

  18

  The film was as Chris had explained, first one, then the other, wrapped up against the cold, laughing and dancing, pulling faces at the camera. They looked dramatically younger in the film, almost as young as Eloise did now.

  Off-camera, the younger Chris, his voice slightly higher than it was now, said, “Let’s see if we can get both of us in shot.”

  There was some maneuvering before Chris, holding the camera at arm’s length, managed to capture some wobbly footage of the two of them standing together. Rachel turned to Chris and they kissed, and the image spun away then as the camera was pointed at the floor. A few moments later, Rachel said, “Getting cold now, let’s go.”

  The camera moved into a different position, randomly shooting the side of the cathedral as the two of them discussed what to do next. It was only a few seconds before Chris realized that the camera was still running and turned it off, but for the duration of those seconds, he’d filmed a figure standing in front of the cathedral wall, staring intently in their direction.

  Will could understand why they’d thought the figure might be a ghost, not only because they hadn’t seen it at the time of filming, but because of the deathly white face, the unusually sad expression. It had been taken only days before his last hibernation.

  And the odd thing was he remembered the occasion because it seemed only a week or so ago in his mind. In each period of activity, the time would come when he needed blood, but did not want it, the earth calling him back more strongly than the hunger to keep going. This had been such a time.

  He remembered seeing them—two people looking not much older than him, kissing, wrapped up in each other— and that feeling had intensified. It was instinct that drove him to hibernate, not choice, but he would have chosen it at that moment anyway because he saw that blood had nothing to offer him but more of this, standing in the shadows, watching other people live.