Lailah (The Styclar Saga)

by Nikki Kelly

  I was so hungry. In a very unladylike manner, I scarfed piece after piece of fruit. A pocket of juice squirted out of my lips from the nectarine that I was chewing on, dribbling down my chin. I smudged my lips with the back of my hand. A thick, red liquid trickled down my knuckles, shocking me. Confused, I spat out the fruit. It looked perfectly normal.

  Gripping the remnants of the nectarine in my hand, I nearly fell off the bed in my haste to get to the bathroom. The mirror was still steamed up, so I quickly wiped my sleeve across it. I shot backward. My mouth was oozing the same thick maroon-colored substance, tarnishing my pearly white teeth. What was it and where was it coming from? I couldn’t fathom it. Then my thoughts rewound: hadn’t the same strangeness happened to me while Frederic burned? I paused for a moment and thought back once more to the blaze, but this time I needed to inspect my hands. In my memory, I had been so entranced by the flames and the smell of the bonfire that I hadn’t taken any time to observe myself except for the scar that had formed on my back. I needed to see my hands, I had to get back into my body, but I didn’t know how to control it.

  Emptying all thoughts from my mind, I let the images fill my memory and cautiously focused harder. I was still watching myself stand at the bonfire, not reliving the event. I was straining to see when the fire, roaring in the background, drifted into my concentration. I began to feel its heat spread over me. The sensation was intense and I allowed it to ride across my body, surrendering myself to the moment.

  I found myself once more inside my body, back into the past.

  It was so real again; the flames burned brightly and I squinted and coughed as the bitter, pungent aroma filled my lungs, reeking like melting paint. I didn’t feel the same sense of awe that I did the first time I was here. I wasted no time; I threw my hands up to my face and, sure enough, they were covered in the ruby-red solution. I smeared the tips of my fingers against my jeans and ran them over my lips and gums, revealing the same substance. It resonated through me, perturbing my taste buds. It was addictively sweet, but also oddly metallic in my mouth. Then it hit me. This was blood, but not my blood.

  Panicking, I willed myself back to the bathroom, back to the present and, sure enough, I returned to the exact same position that I’d left. Urgently, I swilled my mouth with the cold water from the tap, gargling and spitting it into the sink until the redness washed away and the water ran clear. I lifted my head up to the mirror but instantly withdrew when, for a split second, the eyes that reflected back at me glinted red in reply. I stumbled, unbalanced, and tried to regain some state of calm as I worked my way back to the bed.

  Dropping onto the tray the remains of the nectarine that I was still clutching in my hand, it bumped and rolled and my gaze followed it. All the other leftover pieces of fruit were painted red. I gulped hard and threw them into the wastebasket.

  What was happening to me? I couldn’t help but wonder if being in such close proximity to these unearthly beings was in some way drawing out the abnormality that hid under my own skin.

  EIGHT

  I SLEPT FOR WHAT SEEMED TO BE only a few short hours; but when I finally got dressed and made my way down to the living room, Gabriel informed me that I’d actually been out for a couple of days. He made me a cup of tea and we sat down together on the tan leather sofa.

  “You look very pretty in that dress,” he commented.

  I thought he was just being polite. I pulled a face. “Every outfit Brooke has lent me is either pink or purple and nearly all made of silk for some reason!”

  I was sitting awkwardly, feeling uncomfortable, but grateful that the black skinny jeans I had borrowed in the first place were still intact. I’d pulled them on since the strappy minidress was barely covering me.

  Gabriel chuckled. “Hmm … Brooke is very young. She likes to think of herself as being at the height of the trends.”

  “I guess my taste is a little old-fashioned by comparison.…”

  I watched him as we bantered about the dress, or lack thereof. His blond curls were tickling his forehead, bobbing down past his ears, and his large, wide eyes were alert. His fresh, model-like looks certainly drew my eye, but it was far more than that. I felt an invisible pull toward him, like we were deeply connected; I just wanted to be near him.

  I gathered he wanted to talk business by the way he continually cracked his knuckles, but as his eyes softened and his face relaxed, I could see he was enjoying chatting with me. Perhaps business could wait a little longer.

  “Now, I want you to get back to some form of normality,” he told me.

  Perhaps not.

  “This last week has been a strain on you to say the least. You’ve been through so much; I just want you to settle in and be happy.” He smiled.

  I nodded in agreement. I could definitely use some routine, but I still had questions.

  He answered me before the words met the air. “I’m quite sure you still desire answers, and I will share those with you; but all in good time, Cessie.”

  When he used that name, I realized we weren’t alone in the house.

  I cast my gaze around the room, eventually settling it on the door, and Gabriel nodded his head in reply. I understood. We would have to keep this conversation light.

  “So I have a few things for you.” His face brightened as he reached over to the glass-topped coffee table and produced a bag of goodies. “First, an iPhone. The phone number is on the box. I’ve given it to everyone in the house and I have programmed in all our numbers for you,” he said.

  My eyebrows raised; I had never owned such an extravagant piece of equipment—well, not to my knowledge at least. “Thank you, it’s fantastic!” I beamed.

  Delving into his pocket, he produced a shiny gold credit card and handed that to me next. “I’ve had you added to my account. You need clothes and shoes and all those things that Brooke tells me girls need.” He laughed. “She’s promised to take you shopping, though I have to say, better you than me—she’s a keen shopper!” His eyes glistened playfully.

  “No, I can’t take that.” I had never relied on anyone to pay my way and I had no intention of starting now. I tried to give it back to him, but he refused.

  “Seriously, please take it. Think of it as a gift. Think of it as a thank-you for helping Jonah,” he pushed, but I still shook my head.

  He leaned over and whispered, “Please let me feel as though I have done something for you, even if it is barely a scratch in comparison to the penance I have to repay.”

  Here we go, talking in riddles again. I stared back at him blankly, but I could tell he wasn’t going to budge, so I conceded. “Fine, but I’ll pay you back once I’ve found a job,” I insisted, waving the card in the air.

  “A job?” he replied quizzically. “When I say that we need to get your life back to normal, you must understand that you need to remain hidden.”

  “Oh, well, I can’t just stay here every day, I have to work.”

  He rolled up the sleeves of his posh royal blue sweater, as if to tell me that he meant business. His expensive attire made me feel even more inadequate, but I doubted dressing myself in designer clothes would fix that problem.

  With a serious tone, he pushed on. “No, you don’t. You can leave the house but only with one of us. We need to keep you protected; you’re vulnerable on your own. I’m trying to make sense of some things, but in the meantime it’s for the best if you remain here. If you must go out, I will insist that it’s under the protection of one of us.”

  I readied myself to argue with him, to tell him that I was not a prisoner and I could look after myself.

  “Though I hope you don’t mind,” he continued, “that will generally, mostly … always be me.” The edges of his lips curved up. It only took the smallest hint of that luscious smile of his, creeping back up his cheeks, to cause me to change my mind and become instantly amenable. So I returned the smile. “But first you have to go shopping with Brooke.…”

  As I glanced up to the door,
Brooke stepped through it, right on cue. “Jeez! You’re not supposed to wear jeans with that dress!”

  She rolled her eyes at me, irritated, and I frowned at Gabriel. “Why do I have a feeling I’ll regret this?” I grinned sarcastically.

  “Regret what exactly?” Brooke replied. “Come on, we’re going in to town.”

  She grabbed my hand, yanking me up. She surprised me, and I jerked away from her, but I caught myself quickly. If I was going to live here, I would have to get used to the fact that my roommates were Vampires. One way or another, I would have to learn to trust them. I turned back around to Gabriel and picked up the shiny new phone from the sofa.

  “Not town,” Gabriel warned, dipping his eyebrows.

  “What? But Oxford Street calls!”

  “No, stay local. Go to Windsor, there’s plenty of shops there, it’s perfectly adequate.”

  Gabriel was clearly the leader of this pack; they all seemed to abide by his rules.

  Brooke huffed and made a disgruntled face. She seemed so much younger than she looked, which was odd for a Vampire. I would have thought that with more years behind them, even if their faces didn’t show it, they would be more mature and worldly.

  “It’s not fair, just because she’s being chased! Why do I have to suffer? I don’t even want to go with her!”

  “I’m being chased?” That caught my attention more than Brooke’s clear disdain.

  Gabriel stood up and paced over to the doorway where we were both standing.

  “No, Cessie. You’re not being chased,” he replied calmly, easing me momentarily.

  “Yes she is. I heard you talking to Jonah,” she shot back snidely, clearly pleased with her eavesdropping skills. “You said that Eligio and his clan are still looking for her.”

  I turned to Gabriel for the truth.

  “Cessie, what Jonah and I were discussing, privately”—he emphasized his last word and glared at Brooke as he did—“was simply that there is a chance that they’re still trying to find you, that’s all. Nothing more than what we already suspected.”

  I tapped my foot on the floor, irritated; he was holding something back, I knew he was. “And?”

  “And nothing.”

  If there was nothing more to add, then why could I feel him blocking me from his thoughts? I didn’t appreciate being kept in the dark.

  “Brooke, go and pull your car out of the garage. Cessie will be with you in a minute.”

  She flicked her red hair, banging the door shut as she left.

  “Well?” I said.

  “It’s nothing to be concerned about, but Michael has been feeling Eligio’s presence a little stronger since we got back.” Still he was trying to protect me, putting it as gently as possible.

  “More than he normally would?”

  “Yes; Michael’s only been parted from his clan very recently, he’s our newest addition. So his connection to his Gualtiero is stronger than that of any of the others.”

  “I don’t understand. Does that mean that everything he knows, this Eligio knows too?”

  “Not at all. Eligio created Michael, his venom will always be part of him, and as such, they will always sense each other to a degree. It’s only when one or the other changes their proclivity that they essentially tune in to one another,” Gabriel explained, trying to soothe me. “Michael can sense that something has changed within Eligio; he feels him stirring. But it could be anything.”

  I let out a breath. It could have been worse. After all, when I saw them outside the burning rubble of the house in Creigiau, there was no question in my mind that they would try to seek me out.

  “But we have to be cautious. You’re certainly precious.” He smiled.

  “Fine.” I accepted his explanation, just in time to be startled by the impatient honk of Brooke’s horn. “I better go, she’s waiting for me.”

  Reluctantly I reached for the heavy handle, pulling the door back open.

  Stay close to Brooke, and be careful. His words filled my mind and I answered him with a thumbs-up as I stepped through the hallway and out of the front door.

  Brooke wriggled in the driver’s seat, revving the engine of a brand-new Mini Cooper; pink, of course. I plonked myself down in the passenger seat and we sped off down the drive.

  As we zipped through the gate, she grabbed a jacket from the backseat and threw it at me. “You’ll freeze.”

  I pulled it on over the ridiculous dress. “So, Windsor? Shopping…” I said, trying to start a conversation.

  “Nope, Oxford Street. You know, London?”

  Ah. Gabriel would not be pleased, but I didn’t want to put her out.

  “And don’t even think about telling Gabriel.”

  Brooke drove the car as if she were competing in the Grand Prix, eventually breaking the speed limit considerably. The landscape in London was vastly different from that of Hedgerley. I swapped views of endless greens for built-up concrete and towering buildings. Brooke blared some rock band or another and as the song hit the chorus, I recognized it to be the same band that Jonah had played in the Range Rover.

  Turning down the volume, I said, “I didn’t see Jonah this morning. Is he okay?”

  Brooke’s face strained for a moment before she replied, “He’s fine. He’s been out feeding more than usual, so he hasn’t been in the house much since we got back.”

  She made no attempt to water down his eating habits; I quite liked how straight-talking she was. It was easy to see that she hadn’t taken kindly to my arrival, but the fact that she cared so little about me actually endeared her to me somewhat. Brooke didn’t give me a chance to respond, turning the volume back up and placing her large black Dior sunglasses over her eyes from on top of her head.

  * * *

  IT WAS DECEMBER and Christmas shopping was in full swing on Oxford Street. We’d been on the go for about four hours and though Brooke was laden with bags, I had only managed to muster up the energy to pick out a simple, long woolen coat and a pair of flat, plain shoes. I was entirely practical about clothing, living in sweaters and jeans. Brooke, on the other hand, was anything but practical when it came to her purchases, selecting only expensive designer shops to grace with her presence. I had spent some time complimenting Brooke on her various outfit changes, and she seemed a little happier with me and offered to take me to a coffee shop for some tea and cake.

  As I sat in the far corner of Starbucks, mug of tea and pastry in hand, my attention briefly caught on a light bouncing off the window; but when I looked again, it was gone.

  Brooke slid into the cushioned seat in front of me and watched, barely moving, as I added several sugars to my tea.

  “Right, the next few hours we are dedicating to finding you some clothes. Gabriel will be rather displeased with me if I return you with one measly jacket!”

  “One measly jacket? It’s Chanel! Did you see the price tag?” I said. I was ashamed at having let Brooke coerce me into purchasing something so expensive on Gabriel’s shiny gold card.

  “Money is hardly relevant. We have bigger concerns.”

  “Such as?” I asked, taking a small bite out of the éclair that had tempted my appetite.

  “Such as existing each day trying not to kill anyone,” she whispered.

  I almost thought she was trying to scare me off, so I replied showing as little emotion as possible. “But you do … kill?”

  “Yes, sometimes it happens. We only feed when we have to—a must-need basis, if you know what I mean. Not for sport. It’s the way things have to be. Gabriel wouldn’t tolerate us otherwise. He’s an Angel, you know,” she added with a grin.

  “I heard.”

  She looked annoyed that she hadn’t been the one to deliver the news, but she pushed on. “So, human girl, what’s the deal with you anyway?” she asked, fussing with her hair.

  “No deal. Just wrong place, wrong time, I guess,” I said, trying to be casual.

  “Been there!” She laughed, but sadness turned the e
dges of her lips.

  I didn’t think now was the time to ask her how she had come to be a Vampire.

  “Hmm … So why are we hiding you? What’s so special about you, that you have Purebloods on your heel?” She lowered her tone. “And why is Gabriel so protective of you?”

  I could have smiled when she said the last part; it made me happy to think she knew he cared. “I guess he feels that keeping me safe is only fair. As you say, he’s an Angel; he’s obliged to do the right thing.”

  I almost wondered myself if that’s all there was to it, despite our history. Maybe he was just obliged; he had commented that he had a penance to pay.

  “I’m not sure why they’re trying to find me. Perhaps they’re mad that I helped Jonah escape? As I said—wrong place, wrong time.”

  At the mention of Jonah, Brooke’s limited attention span perked up. “Well, I guess we have you to thank for that. We wouldn’t have wanted to lose him.” She moved her neck and rubbed her shoulder.

  “Are you and Jonah an item?” I asked, attempting to flatter her. I didn’t think they were, but I hoped to encourage her to drop her guard.

  “Oh, well, no. But we are closer than you could imagine! He actually saved me from … well, you know. I’m sure he wants me, and maybe we would be together, if we could be.” She quickened her sentence defensively.

  “I’m sure, but he’s a bit older than you though, isn’t he?”

  “Depends how you look at it. I guess so. But that’s not why we can’t be together.”

  She ended her sentence abruptly, as if she had said too much.

  Can’t? I blew on my tea and sipped it, casually slipping in a “Why?”

  “Just the way things are. Vampires”—she lowered her voice once more—“can’t be with other Vampires, physically. It’s sort of forbidden. But you know a Vampire could never be with a human either. Not really, it’d never work out,” she said, pretending to look through the tops of her shopping bags.