As we talked for over an hour she told me more of the time at my father’s house. I enjoyed the vision of Gabriel killing both my brother and father; though I did not show it. I faked slight melancholy. But when she mentioned my mother, I felt nothing but hate. I was, however, not totally hateful of all my family. I was glad that the last surviving sister would grow up to a normal life that I did not have. Again, a jealousy crept in.
I thought of the time Lilah had spent with Gabriel and whether there had been any strong bond there. Had he kissed her? She was too young. Stop it! I had scolded myself for there was no reason to feel this way.
I looked around her room and in her wardrobe, suddenly envious that she had a glorious room in this castle while I had been living in a broken down house only fit for vermin. Oh yes, it was novel at first but I deserved more. I went through her cupboard and told her what dresses I liked and we reminisced about the children.
She asked me if I missed it and I lied in saying yes that I did and would never have left if Sister Gertrude and I had seen eye to eye.
‘Perhaps you can go back…’ she said but her words trailed away and her eyes were downcast. We both knew that my wonderful nights with Gabriel meant that I was no longer one of the sisters. I felt the urge to laugh. Imagine if I had never known what it was like to lie with a man who desired me, to have someone look at my body with such admiration, to have my glorious hair free from cover. I turned to examine myself in a looking glass to confirm my thoughts but froze at the image.
All I could see was that ruinous scar, the one that had taken my beauty.
Lilah came to stand beside me.
‘Are you worried about the scar?’
I ignored her.
‘Don’t be,’ she said. ‘You still look beautiful to me and to Gabriel.’
I turned and gave her my brightest smile. I would play along. Of course it didn’t matter. Our friendship went far deeper than such trivial concerns and on and on I went. She seemed pleased with my attitude.
‘Now my dear,’ I said. ‘I did come to see you today not just to spend some wonderful time with you but to tell you some exciting news.’
She sat at the edge of her seat, eager but cautious.
‘Gabriel and I are getting married.’
‘Oh,’ she said looking away. ‘That’s wonderful, but…’
‘But?’
‘Well the two of you have so little in common.’
‘Did you think that we cannot live together? Let me tell you there are no differences between a strigoi and a human when they are between the sheets.’
She blushed at this point and I wondered then at exactly how much experience she’d had. Her talk of Emil was tender but it was inconceivable that she was anything but a virgin.
She thought a moment then came to a conclusion. ‘Well then I wish you both well,’ she said and it could not have been more sincere.
‘There is one more thing I need to tell you.’
She frowned and I felt like a vulture picking over the bones of the dead. I admit that I did somewhat enjoy the moment.
‘I am to become one of the strigoi.’
She looked confused. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Lewis will make me one of them at the next full moon.’
‘But you are not a witch?’
‘But there is a way of making me a strigoi, bypassing the mediocre step of being a witch.’
‘No. I have read about this. I have read that it is rarely successful, that such a rite can turn you into a beast. You will have none of the healing powers that I have; all you will be is immortal, feeding on blood. Don’t you know about the strigoi?’
I was insulted then. ‘Yes, you silly girl. I know that Gabriel kills the degenerates for their blood. It does not worry me.’
‘You have seen him?’
‘No. He has not seen the need.’
‘Arianne, I watched him drain the blood from your father’s neck. Remember how you used to tell the stories told by your brothers to frighten you of the beasts which steal the lives of people during the night? Well these are those creatures.’
‘You are a hypocrite, Lilah. You live in all these comforts among them, aren’t you just as guilty.’
‘But I am connected somehow. You have no excuse.’
‘You are not like them. You will never cope here. I would suggest it is you who leaves here and finds another life for you will never accept their way of life.’
‘I know it is their nature, that they cannot help it. I know that perhaps my own parents or grandparents had the dark skills. I cannot change who I am but you, who has a choice, is choosing this! Are you not even aware of the risks?’
‘Of course!’
‘So you know you could die.’
Gabriel had told me this but to hear it from Lilah put an element of doubt, which I resented.
Lilah stormed off out of the room in search of Gabriel. I followed her. There was no way this girl would get in my way. The hallways were long and magnificent but there was no time to examine them today. I could not lose sight of Lilah. I was there when she found Gabriel in the stables. ‘Gabriel you cannot allow this.’
Gabriel looked at me. ‘She has made up her mind,’ he said calmly and I sent him a secret smile.
‘You know that she could die. Very few have lived and those who do can come back changed.’
‘I know all this as does she.’ And he reached to touch my hand.
Lilah looked at his touch, a delicate union. Her face screwed up and I thought she would cry but instead she turned and ran.
I had been foolish to trust her. We may have been friends once but I no longer needed her. Gabriel looked at me and I made a melancholy face to mask the excitement I felt.
‘Are you alright?’
‘Yes,’ I said, and forced a tear from my eye. ‘I thought we were good friends but I have lost her.’
‘You haven’t lost her, my darling. It is just that she cares.’
‘No, I don’t believe that. I think that she is jealous. Jealous that I will have everything she has.’
A shadow of disquiet spread across Gabriel’s perfect face. I cupped my hand around his neck, and with my thumb gently rubbed his smooth flesh. He seemed to relax, closing his eyes to imagine us together later that evening.
We galloped past the castle. It was truly a spectacle. The large beasts guarding the entrance were majestic, the stone steps leading to the large doors told of expense. There would soon be legitimacy for me to live there where I would be treated like a queen. No more squatting in the squalor of our rundown house, which Gabriel seemed to think I found adequate. They say a strigoi can read human thoughts. For some reason I am made such that it does not work on me. Perhaps there is a little bit of witch in me from long before. No matter. This would soon be my home and perhaps it would be too small for both Lilah and me.
I touched the scar and imagined that once I had successfully made the change – something I did not doubt – my face would be returned to perfect once more.
Lewis
Lilah knocked on my door requesting an audience. I was annoyed at her presence. I did not like to be disturbed when I was travelling through my memories. It was one of the few times I found peace these days. I dreamed of the times when my parents walked freely as strigoi, when we were respected rulers and land owners. We were a higher order in the civilised towns and hunters in the barbarian lands outside the city. And then our numbers grew less and the strength of which declined. Famines came, then ice and for a period chaos reigned. It was only a matter of time before the barbarians who had the brute strength to live through anything rose up to demand more. And it was only time before the civilised towns grew fearful.
But long before the time of the revolts I lived in a place of gold on a cliff top overlooking the sea. I played with my brothers and sisters. I had watched my mother die – she had never taken the vows of the strigoi.
‘I am sorry to disturb you, Master, but I
must remind you that if it does not work effectively, she could die.’
‘Yes. That is the risk.’
‘So you will disallow it.’
‘You cannot tell me anything witch child!’ but even as I said this the word was superfluous. She was no longer a child.
‘You can stop this, I beg of you.’
‘Do not beg, Lilah. It is uncomely.’
She sat down distraught, her face in her hands. I did not care for such mortal traits as these but something touched me about this. I had never encountered a being so concerned with the welfare of another especially one as shallow as Arianne.
‘Surely you cannot care for the girl. As far as I can see, she cares naught for anyone but herself.’
When she raised her face I was shocked to see her tears. ‘She has been my friend since I was small. She took care of me.’
I laughed then, which seemed to shock her.
‘Please do not mock me and make this such a small thing.’
‘Lilah, this human does not share your feelings of care. She feels very little towards you.’
‘That is not true. Arianne was a loving person who took care of many.’
‘Was. That may be true. But she is changed now. She is no longer balanced, which is perhaps why I cannot read her thoughts. If she dies, perhaps it will be better for all of us.’
‘You cannot say that,’ she said standing. I had never seen her so angry.
‘Calm yourself. It will be done. I have promised Gabriel and I cannot go back on my strigoi word.’
‘But…’
‘Silence!’ I shouted and she jumped to cover her ears. I did not like to use my voice to hurt her. She was trembling now aware that she had lost any fight.
‘Then can I ask one thing of you?’
I nodded, keen to be rid of her and the empathy that had crept in. I must remain in control as master of the coven. My ability to rise above the smallness was what kept our circle in check.
‘Please allow me to be there at the ceremony. She may be in need of healing.’
She was a strong and a good healer. I did not care whether she healed the girl or not but neither could I deny her presence. It was perhaps time that she learnt firsthand of some of the rituals. She was of age and it was nearly time for her to take her initiation. This was perhaps a good thing for her education.
‘Yes, you may attend. Three nights hence I will come and collect you and take you to the ceremonial rooms.’
She nodded formally and left.
Chapter 11
Lilah
I had hoped that the relationship between Gabriel and Arianne would eventually end and she would return to her work for the poor. I was naive to think such a thing but never did I believe she knew so much of Gabriel’s kind. I thought that he had disguised that of himself and had somehow only shown his ‘human’ side. She had more understanding than I had given her credit for.
I had witnessed the killing of Istavan and never did I want to see another one. It was best that I lived alongside these creatures, my former ancestors, without bearing witness. I was living a lie, I know that now. I may be a witch but that did not mean that I would ever become like them.
As promised, Lewis woke me in the night and said that it was time.
He led me along dimly lit corridors and through a false door down a long stone staircase before entering a giant chamber. Strange circular patterns were engraved in the marble floor. Out to the sides were more corridors with cage frontages, and I could see that at some point this had been a dungeon, all the more eerie to think that this perhaps was where certain human sacrifices I had read about took place. It was then I remembered the herbs in the gardens used to calm humans and knew immediately that this was the same place where the strigoi took some of their drugged victims to feed; part of an elaborate luring game in times of celebration.
The ceiling was high with marble columns. It was a vastly empty room and I shivered from the damp and cold. This room was well lit with torches on the walls and columns, and enough light for me to examine the patterns on the floor that matched many of the book covers in the library. The symbol of circles joined was designed centuries ago so that others could recognise the residences of the strigoi. In earliest times, when they ruled, the circles would be made in bronze above their abodes. Later, when they were driven to hide, these marks were scratched on the base of doors so that other strigoi would recognise it as a safe house.
Lewis explained many centuries earlier, and long after the time of Sigimund, that strigoi were the ruling race, living in castles across the lands each with their own dominions. Humans were commoners, tradesmen, farmers, or servants to the strigoi, while the strigoi were masters of nature, art and building design. They did not have to hunt for their own blood – goblets were brought to them of animal blood or blood drained from prisoners sentenced to death. This existence made them lazy and it was a matter of time before humans became jealous, and when the strigoi were usurped by rebellious mortals they suddenly found themselves having to hunt for their own food. During this time they were ill prepared and weak, and when a second cleansing of the strigoi occurred, Lewis’s parents and siblings were burnt to death. His kind was forced to hide, killing humans indiscriminately to stay alive. And survive they did.
Centuries passed, and after these lessons of hardship, Lewis and other leaders maintained stricter control of their covens setting up laws to keep a balance of all living things. Masters sent many of their subjects underground for their one hundred year sleep, and as the human population increased, new strigoi were created to balance the numbers.
Lewis took my hand and led me to the large cushioned chairs on the far side of the room. His hands were ice cold. He returned to the dais at the centre of the room: a slap of raised marble with engravings of beasts and gargoyles along its edges. I had seen those pictures before in Lewis’s books. These were said to be the original strigoi, an angel who grew so old he resembled those gargoyle beasts. In many of the images such demon-like creatures were prayed to and worshipped. I had learnt these creatures were the first to discover the practice of body stealing to restore their youth, another practice now outlawed within Lewis’s circle.
In my studies I had viewed such forms clinically, but sitting here waiting for the arrival of Arianne the whole idea of these creatures sickened me.
The sound of shuffling on the stairs jolted me from my self pity and through the door walked Arianne. She wore a dress of white with a coat of lace fastened tightly beneath her bust, walking like a nervous bride; her bright ruby painted lips sharply contrasting her pallid skin.
Behind her walked Gabriel. He carried something in his arms wrapped in tapestry and laid it gently down on the floor beside the table
Arianne avoided my stare but Gabriel looked at me and whispered to my thoughts. ‘Don’t be afraid’. But this did not in any way calm me. In fact, the thought of his betrayal, by agreeing to make my friend something she was not, fuelled my anger.
Under Lewis’s instruction, Arianne was helped onto the marble dais and despite her smile I could see that her hands were trembling as she lay down. She was indeed aware of the dangers but I could not fathom what drove her to do this act.
‘Arianne,’ I beseeched, stepping forward. ‘Please don’t do this.’
She looked at me. ‘Everything will be alright. You’ll see.’
Her tone was full of disregard and I remembered Lewis’s harsh words, stabbing at my heart. It was true – she no longer cared for me.
‘Stand back,’ Lewis said to me. ‘Stay out of the way.’ There was a warning in his voice that commanded attention. The force of him filled the room. The legends of his power were never more obvious than at this moment. He lifted his arms and a gust of wind shot through the room brushing the hair back from his face. Gabriel had told me that his powers were extraordinary enabling him to turn another strigoi, witch or human into a fireball.
Gabriel took my hand and led me away from t
he dais. When I turned to look back at Arianne her eyes were fixed on us.
‘Gabriel, you must do this,’ instructed Lewis.
Gabriel looked shocked. ‘No. I have not performed this before.’
‘Do as I command. If this is so important to you then it should not be a problem.’
He glared at his master but it was obvious from Lewis’s own look of steel that he would not relent. The younger returned to the dais, clearly not forewarned of his participation in the ritual. I was coming to learn this about Lewis; his desire to test the loyalty of others. Gabriel was still unsure of his commitment to this act until Arianne reached to touch his arm.
‘I want this,’ she said.
Gabriel gazed upon her and paused for a moment before he bent suddenly to feast upon her neck. I heard her gasp, her hands clawing the air for just a moment as if grabbing at the last moments of her life. I could see blood trickling into her hair. Lewis watched on with detachment.
I wanted to run from the room. ‘Enough!’ I cried out.
‘Stay away,’ he warned
I had read that she must be almost between this life and the next before becoming a strigoi. That her soul must first leave her body and then through the smell of blood return once again to her form. I knew also that she must feed directly after her rebirthing.
It was then that I noticed the bundle on the floor move slightly. I made a move to go towards it but Gabriel stood up suddenly. I could see his profile and the trickles of blood on his chin. He did not look handsome but some wild beast, his eyes closed, his breathing deep.
Lewis said something in ancient witch speak. These words were full of magic and I knew their meaning: he was calling for the soul to return. Above Arianne a small mist appeared and hovered. I looked at her lifeless body, her eyes open staring backwards. She was dead.
The mist hovered and Gabriel bent down to pick up the bundle from the floor. As he carried it toward the table, Lewis continued to chant and the mist swirled suddenly, spinning fast and reentering her mouth. She sat up suddenly her eyes sunken, skin shrivelled and grey. Another strigoi appeared from the darkness with a rod of iron, burning hot with orange at one end. He held Arianne’s arm and pressed the heat against the skin on her wrist, which sizzled and steamed. Arianne did not seem to notice this happening and there were no cries of pain. When he released the rod, I saw the blackened circle etched into her skin, which would eventually fade to purple; the symbol of the coven and a pledge of loyalty.
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