Panting, she pulled back far enough to look into his blood-red eyes. Although she knew she should be afraid of him, Helena smiled softly. Her hands travelled up his neck and held his face.
“Let me feel you,” she said.
He seemed uncertain. His eyes cast downwards as he contemplated her words.
“Please,” she added and saw his will bending to please her.
Lucious closed his eyes and the soul-bond between them filled with the pain he held in. Tears escaped the prison of her eyes, and he set her down. He pressed his forehead to hers, waiting for her to calm down.
Once she pushed the waterworks back, her hands ran up his strong chest. “We share our souls now, Lucious. The burdens you carry, I carry too. I hope that you won’t abandon me and return to a dark past like that.”
He kissed her forehead, brows, and eyelids. The love he showered her with soothed the panic and the fear of what was to come, and she welcomed it. Giving in, she bid goodbye to the remnants of her untainted soul and let him claim her for the second time.
They lay there, naked, on the floor of the Council’s Archives. Staring up at the mesmerising blue witchlight, Helena snorted. “Imagine Eliza’s face if she saw us do this in her building.”
Lucious gently caressed her shoulder. His fingers travelled down her bare arm, tickling her. “I fear she would sentence us both to death then and there.”
Her humour waned at his words. “We should get dressed then…”
It was his turn to laugh. “The deed is already done. I believe we were already caught on a camera or two.”
She gasped and shot up, covering her chest with his leather jacket. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Helena hissed, feeling like a naughty child who got caught stealing from the cookie jar.
“You did not care to ask.” He kissed her shoulder, trailing tiny kisses up to her jugular. When his lips settled on her pulse, she sucked in a breath, anticipating and dreading what would happen if he bit her. As he made love to her again, not once did he attempt to bite her. Even though his eyes never changed from that strange crimson shade, she felt safe in his arms. She felt needed.
“So, what now?” she managed.
Lucious retreated from her neck, his eyes locked on the bracelet she wore. “What is that?”
Automatically, she covered it with her other hand. “Maya gave this to me.”
His relaxed expression formed into a scowl. “You accepted something from a demon?”
“Which she became because of me.”
He rolled his eyes and grabbed his tank top. In five minutes, both of them were dressed, and he lifted her wrist, scrutinising the leather bracelet with his stare.
“I do not like this,” he said.
“Why not?”
He whirled her around, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Look at it,” he said and his shields cocooned her.
The bracelet morphed into black vines. The three blood-red gems centred in the middle turned into eyes that blinked at her. Horrified, she turned her wrist. Dark tendrils pierced her skin and seemed to tangle around her muscle and bone in layers.
“Oh God!” She yelped and attempted to pry it off.
“It’s like the mark you once had on your shoulder. It requires your life energy to remain in this realm. Without a demon’s help, it cannot be removed,” Lucious said.
Helena tugged on it, feeling the tendrils digging into her bone to remain. It hurt. She stopped struggling and stepped out of Lucious’ reach. The demon jewellery terrified her less when she couldn’t see it for what it truly was. She shuddered.
“Maya didn’t say anything about it needing my life force. She said it would help her track me.”
Lucious walked to the railing beside her and rested his elbows on it. He observed the library below and said, “It is hard for me to gauge the function of that item. I would have thought you would stay away from anything to do with demons. Yet, here we are, in the Council’s Archives, surrounded by that which we fought tooth and nail to escape from mere weeks ago.”
She crossed her arms, already regretting giving into her body’s demands as his harsh words stung. “I wasn’t given a choice. Vincent asked me to look into this…”
“He could have asked his children to deal with this or any of the ghouls in the Council!” Lucious slammed his fist against the railing, bending it from the impact. Cursing under his breath, his clenched hands relaxed, and he brushed his knuckles along her cheek. The contrast from the rough display earlier surprised her. The gentlest of touches caressed her skin while the red in his eyes retreated.
“I will talk to him. He only needs one of us to work on this case,” Lucious said.
She was ready to respond when Levile climbed up the steps. “You are still here, Mr Ellwood?”
Lucious glared at the man. “Is that a problem?”
Levile’s gaze went from Helena to Lucious. A pleasant smile adorned his lips, and he joined them. “Master Vincent contacted me. Since the sun will be rising soon, he said you may stay until evening.”
“I will be going back now,” Lucious replied.
“But it is over an hour at our fastest speed. It would be wise to wait,” Levile said.
After kissing the back of Helena’s hand, Lucious drew away. Already she ached at the separation. “The sun does not affect me.”
Vincent’s childe lost his composure and gaped at him. “Is that supposed to be a joke?”
“No,” Lucious said. “Take care of her.”
“Master Vincent’s orders were clear. I will guard her with my life,” Levile responded without pause.
Mumbling something like ‘it might not be enough’, Lucious fleeted out of the Archives, and Helena was left to stare at the space he occupied a second ago.
Levile’s eyes, filled with curiosity, watched her.
She sighed. “What is it?”
“Is it true? The sun doesn’t affect him?”
A light nod of her head confirmed his suspicion, and Helena almost laughed at the shocked expression on the vampire’s face. “Is it so rare that a vampire can walk in the sun?”
“It is not rare, Miss Hawthorn. It is impossible,” Levile replied and hurried away.
Helena guessed he went off to inform Vincent of this development. She was certain Lucious would have a lot of questions to answer when he meets the Councilman. Pushing her hair out of her eyes, she noted his folder remained on the ground by the box. Curiosity got the best of her. She sat next to it and lifted the thick stack of bound papers into her lap. She skipped the names this time, finding long letters in the faded cursive handwriting she recognised to be Lucious’.
Picking up the first one, she began to read and soon, her hand covered her mouth. Acid climbed her throat at the devastating contents…
July 1886, London
The hunt continues. I can see no end to the disease that brings more filth to the streets of London I used to love. The hunters are a menace. They are the cockroaches that should be eradicated. What good is the damned Council? They patiently let them pick us off, one by one. Must we suffer for their negligence like my sire had?
Anna did not deserve what she got. She was a woman with dreams of a happy family. We, her children, must do what we can to avenge her. Phillipe does not see things my way. He blames me, and, in private, I do too.
Anna’s good friend, Hartwin, on that dreadful December night in 1884 showed us proof of her passing—Anna’s ashes. The sombre expression and true agony in his eyes told us everything we needed to know. She was gone from our lives, from all existence.
I ask myself this often, why her? Why not me? I am inconsequential in this world. My family cared not for my well-being and no friend of mine would visit my gravestone for a chat when I am gone.
The hunters must pay for what they have done. I will find the ones responsible, be they my kind or the hunter scum that roams the London slums.
L
September 1887, London
A lone beast resides in me.
I feel nothing. Perhaps I am nothing. When I see them dying by my hand, ripping into their guts or slicing up their chests, they tell me I am a monster as life abandons them. Their desire to live does not reveal the identity of those responsible for my sire’s demise. Do the hunters have a code? Must they protect each other even in death?
Strange, but I taste the truth when those men and women tell me they didn’t do it. Like I have done with the others, I cannot permit them to live. They will kill more of my kind. Would it be my blood-brother next? My sisters?
I must kill them all. Maybe then my soul will find peace.
L
September 1888, East London
I counted fifty-three dead by my hand, and the world knows only of a handful. Is that a lot? There are times I am curious if others like me have killed this many, but I dare not read their files. To each their own.
I feel so little these days. Only anger and hatred come to visit me when I cut the hunters open. They remain alive, of course. Their screams do not reach the ears of others when I cover their mouths with my gloved hand. And, when it is time, they tell me not what I wish to hear. I must find the truth, and they must see I am serious in attaining what I desire.
The papers called me ‘Jack the Ripper’ and Scotland Yard refers to my deeds as that of a ‘Whitechapel murderer’. Watts must be turning in his grave, knowing I was using the techniques he taught me during the war for such evil. I must admit, I see no end to this dark road. The more lives I take, the less I feel. Their faces are a blur, a distant dream and nothing more. Is that how my conscience copes with the atrocities I’ve committed? Do I have a conscience to begin with?
L
August 1890, London
They whisper the name they gave me in the dark corners of every brothel, pub, and street corner. The Ripper may be remembered for my dark endeavours, or the history will forget him. Right now, I know my actions weren’t for nought. The hunters fear me now. I am their nightmare. Somehow, their deaths become more violent, too.
Have I changed so much?
Am I still Lucious Ellwood?
Whatever happened to the man who grieved with a drink instead of going on a quest to slaughter humans? He may be gone for good…
I find it strange. Some vampires pat me on the back. The Council had sent me a letter of gratitude for cleaning the streets for them, but I remain an empty shell. Will my anger ever go away? It matters little now. I have paved my path in this afterlife. I cannot stop now. Anna will one day rest in peace while I burn in Hell.
L
A set of photos slid out the side of the folder. She picked them up. The monochrome close-up images were blurred as the horror of his actions became clear. The first woman lay facing up on the dirty cobbled ground. Her short dark hair fell lifelessly around her as she stared at the camera with glazed over eyes. Helena brushed away the tears, noticing the deep cuts along her neck—the cause of her death. She seems so young…
Hiccupping, she put the photo aside and read the name ‘Chapman’ on the back before flipping it over. This woman was much older, possibly in her early forties. She seemed almost peaceful. But then, Helena looked at the full image. Her abdomen was cut open with dark liquid staining the skirts of her dress.
Nauseated, she tossed the photos and the folder away. She huddled in the corner for a long time, her body shivering uncontrollably. Killed and tortured—those women did not deserve that, even if they were hunters. She couldn’t let Vincent turn Lucious back into this creature. It would prove everything Maya and Ben stood for. She couldn’t let that happen.
Using the shelves for support, she climbed to her feet and stumbled down stairs in search of Levile. When she didn’t spot him in the Archives, she wandered to the seemingly endless dark staircase.
“Levile?” she called out in a shaky voice.
From behind her, she heard his reply, “How may I help you?”
Helena jumped and cursed vampires for being able to always sneak up on her. She stuck out her hand. “I need to call Vincent. Give me your phone.”
“There is no reception here, Miss. I suggest making the call from upstairs.” He tilted his head to one side, his long silver hair shifting like a veil around his shoulders. “May I inquire why you wish to call him?”
“The phone, please.”
Thankfully, he produced the device for her. Scaling the stairs, two at a time, she reached the top in five minutes, mumbling curses of how unfit she had become.
Three bars of reception appeared on the mobile’s screen. She searched the contacts, finding only two: Hans and Vincent. Obviously, Levile did not have a productive social life. She dialled Vincent’s number and waited for the call to connect.
“Vincent?” she asked, breathless.
“Helena, did you find something of importance?”
She aimlessly wandered the corridors as she spoke her mind. “Don’t ask Lucious to do that. He shouldn’t hurt those people!”
There was silence on the other end. For a while, she thought the connection had dropped, so she checked the screen. The call was connected.
“I’m sorry. As I have feared, I cannot influence the hunters in our grasp. They drank too much colloidal silver for too long. The only way to loosen their tongues is through…other means, and Mr Ellwood is best at it.”
“There has to be another way!”
Vincent’s chuckle permeated through the speaker. “You are much too young to understand the world for what it is, Helena. The hunters spare no second thought when experimenting on us. Yet, you would have us pardon them because they are human and do not heal as quickly?”
“Don’t ask him to do it, please…” She managed to find her way into a small garden with trimmed shrubbery and a large square fountain at the centre.
“The choice remains with Mr Ellwood, does it not? I believe he knows what must be done to help us stop this union before it occurs. Otherwise, no one will be safe, not you, not Lucious, and certainly not anyone in Europe.”
His words weighed heavy on her heart as she sat on the edge of the stone fountain and studied the clear water. The sun warmed her skin and puffy white clouds drifted by after a few days of stormy weather. Who was she to pry into the dealings of the Council and their vampires when she couldn’t even protect her loved ones?
“I’m sorry I interrupted you,” she said, slumping her shoulders.
“We must all sacrifice in a time of need. There is no way to avoid that, Helena.” His voice softened. “I will make sure young Lucious does not become consumed by the darkness from his past. You have my word.”
“Thank you.” Defeated, she hung up and ran her hand through the chilled water. Even though it was the middle of summer, she didn’t have a chance to enjoy any of it. And what made it worse was that she had eight days left before she had to leave him and everyone here behind.
7
Celebrating Life
It had been a long time since Lucious had a chance to enjoy the morning sun. The warmth seeped into his skin, and he closed his eyes, letting his body absorb the poisonous light he had feared an encounter with for over a century. The morning rush commenced. Men and women left their homes with a cup of coffee in a thermos or a sandwich in their mouth. He inhaled the scents around him, strolling at a human’s pace.
His heart pumped the blood through his system, an odd sensation he couldn’t comprehend. Indeed, he was as close to being human as any vampire could get. Would this miracle continue? He found the thought of losing such a gift sobering. The soul-bond may have permitted him to walk in the daylight, but at the core, he remained a monster of the night. His rose-tinted glasses fell away, and he saw the world for what it truly was—a grey emptiness.
Lucious rounded the corner, getting the full view of the street the nursery was on. A white van had been parked out front with no one inside. He looked past it as two black Jeeps approached and closed his eyes, listening out for the heartbeats. They were drowned out by the diesel engines of the adva
ncing vehicles. Though, the sound of weapons being readied was unmistakable.
Hunters. Ducking around the corner, he grabbed his phone and dialled Byron’s number. After a few rings, the werewolf picked up, and Lucious whispered into the receiver, “We’ve got company.”
“How many?” Byron asked.
The conversations on the other side of the line came to a halt, full attention was on Lucious.
“I cannot be certain, the engines mask the heartbeats. Plus, there are too many pedestrians nearby. I suggest getting out back.” He briefly glanced around the corner. Two cars parked up and eight humans climbed out, forming a perfect line.
Byron’s voice rose with agitation. “You’re not pulling my leg here, are you? We have a vampire with us. He can’t exactly walk around in sunlight.”
“Cover him up, do something, but move. Now!” Lucious snapped. He stashed his phone away once he heard footsteps getting closer to his location. Taking no chances, he sped down the road and crossed the street to hide behind a brown-brick, semi-detached house. His heart rattled in his chest and, for once, he cursed the organ for beating again. It summoned more agitation as he fought to listen past its echoing sound in his skull.
The footsteps retreated. He assumed the hunters simply checked the perimeter before bursting into the nursery. His patience was thinning. Yet, he waited for his phone to vibrate in his pocket. When it did, he slid his thumb across the screen.
“Where are you?” Lucious demanded.
Byron huffed a reply, “I’m going to kill Lucas’ new Laeva. That tool fell asleep on his watch.”
Lucious rubbed his eyes and rested his head against the rough brick surface of the house. “Once you are safe, meet me at Phil’s.”
Byron hung up, and Lucious tucked the phone into his jacket’s pocket. He peered around the corner, noting that no one stood at the top of the street. Satisfied, he ran in the direction of the informant’s office in Central London.
Tired and drained from the amount of energy he had to exert by fleeting around London at inhuman speeds, Lucious collapsed against Phil’s office door. The muscles in his legs cramped and his lungs burned. He was surprised he wasn’t spewing fire by the time his fist collided with the metal door.
Crumbling Control (Helena Hawthorn Series Book 3) Page 9