Lailah (The Styclar Saga)

by Nikki Kelly

  “You want this?” he replied, handing it to me.

  I flung it around my body and tied it up tightly, pushing my damp hair behind my ears. “Can I help you with something?”

  “Well, if you’re offering…”

  He stepped into my space, overstepping the mark. I raised my hands and pushed his shoulders, and to my surprise, he fell back a little. He gathered himself rather quickly.

  “Calm down! I’m just messing with you, Cessie!”

  His smirk seemed to suggest he was pleased to get a reaction out of me.

  “The door was locked.”

  “I’m a Vampire. Plus a locked door is too tempting to resist.”

  I scurried around to the other side of the bed, putting a little distance between us.

  I was about to ask him to leave when I noticed his eyes seemed to have changed color—the hazel shade was diluted with flecks of maroon. Then I remembered what Brooke had said: he had been feeding a lot these last few days. I felt a chill run down my spine.

  “How many people have you killed?” I demanded. I wasn’t usually so assertive, but after what Brooke had said about there being occasional casualties in order for them to survive, I suddenly had to know.

  “No light souls, I promise. Only the dark ones.”

  His words cut through me. I didn’t care if they were good or bad. The very idea of him drinking from unwilling victims made my stomach churn; but I was well aware that I was wearing nothing but a dressing gown and underwear, so now didn’t seem like the right moment to get into a heated debate.

  He, on the other hand, was sporting a rather unusual russet red–colored rugby shirt with the collar flicked upward, which contrasted against his skin and eyes perfectly. His hair, which as I had come to know him was always tousled and flawlessly out of place, was no different this morning. He was stupidly good looking, and I felt a pinch of excitement low in my belly, and my cheeks began to burn in embarrassment.

  “Dime for your thoughts?”

  I shook the musings from my head, and gave myself a good dressing-down mentally.

  “It’s ‘penny’ for them, and trust me, my markup is higher than a penny.”

  He smirked at me before replying in a low murmur, “Name your price.” Tilting his head, he winked at me and wetted his lips. His upturned smile was goading me, daring me even, to play his game.

  “Again, did you need something?” I said, gesturing toward the door.

  I’d never liked playing games.

  Straightening himself he replied, “Only to say that I thought I would take you into the village, show you around.”

  He wasn’t asking. He never seemed to ask.

  “Thanks, but Ruadhan’s actually on duty today. Gabriel’s already arranged it.”

  Momentarily, I caught a look of disappointment flit over Jonah’s face, but it only lasted for a brief second.

  “Wouldn’t you rather someone a little less ancient and a lot more fun take you sightseeing?”

  Jonah seemed irritated that I hadn’t jumped at the chance of spending some time with him. Judging by the lines on his forehead as he screwed up his face, you could tell that he didn’t enjoy, and wasn’t accustomed to, having to work for attention. This was someone who was used to being in charge, getting what he wanted the way he wanted it and whenever he wanted it.

  “The last time you did that, I ended up pinned up against a wall, so I think I’ll pass.”

  “Fine.” He made for the door and I immediately felt guilty for reminding him that I hadn’t quite let go of the incident in the cottage.

  “Jonah, perhaps you could take me for a drink sometime? I hear there’s a pub near here?” I softened, wanting to show a little more willingness.

  He glanced at me over his shoulder as he went for the handle. “Perfect. It’s a date.”

  I thought he almost sniggered and it quickly dawned on me that he had fooled me into agreeing to go drinking with him, rather than escorting me on a mundane tour. I was annoyed with myself; I would have to learn to be sharper.

  I turned my back to him, and just before he pulled the door, he just couldn’t help himself. “Nice butt, by the way!”

  Argh! I was so cross with myself; he was way too cocky. He definitely needed taking down a peg or two, even if he was pretty gorgeous.

  I was more cautious dressing after he left, trying to put my new clothes on under the dressing gown, just in case he decided to make a reappearance. I did however take a moment to check out the reflection of my bum in the mirror.

  I towel-dried my hair and picked out a mini Mulberry satchel handbag, courtesy of Brooke. I popped the new iPhone and credit card inside, along with the house keys Gabriel had handed to me before I had retired.

  From the dresser drawer, I checked on my assortment of fake IDs, including my passport. Ruadhan had ventured into the house in Creigiau after Eligio’s clan had attacked Jonah and me, rescuing my only belongings from my backpack. Gabriel had sent him back provided the coast was clear; he didn’t know what I had left behind. As I imagined Ruadhan searching the levels, I wondered if he had left the property in the same state as the one Gabriel and his Vampires had, as we sped off toward the motorway a few days later. I hoped he hadn’t. Such a waste. However I was pleased to have my documentation; I’d need it if we had to leave the country quickly.

  And so, I was ready to face the day.

  I wandered down the hall, passing several doors as I went. I hadn’t actually inquired who was staying in each of the rooms. I had hoped Gabriel had put me next to his. I reached the top of the stairs and Gabriel stood at the foot of them, waiting for me.

  “Morning.” He beamed.

  He looked as luscious as ever; he had styled his blond curls behind his ears today, though a few stray strands still tickled his forehead. I bounced down the many stairs to the foot, where he was leaning his elbow against the wall at the bottom, one leg bent behind the other. I was about to greet him when his grin faltered and his face seemed to fall. I stopped at the last step, positioning me almost at eye level with him. Shuffling uncomfortably, he stared at me with that familiar puzzled look on his face.

  “Um, everything okay?” I said.

  “Yes, of course.” He picked himself up quickly. “Where did you get that blouse from?”

  “Oh, this one was my choice; we found a little vintage shop. You don’t like it?” I said. I started to feel terribly self-conscious, even more so when Gabriel didn’t answer.

  Automatically I turned and began making my way back up the stairs. I needed to check my reflection.

  “Wait!” He grabbed my arm and brought me back in to him. “It’s quite lovely, really. I was taken aback to see you wearing a style like that. It just reminded me of, well, you.”

  He hadn’t meant to say the last part. I wasn’t an idiot.

  “It’s old-fashioned, I know; I just liked it. I’m sorry I reminded you of me.” I was deflated.

  We continued to stare each other out, neither of us flinching; finally he broke into a laugh at my stubborn expression and, even though I attempted to keep the frosty exterior going, I couldn’t resist and I started laughing too.

  “Being reminded of you, the you I knew, is never a bad thing. You just caught me off guard. I was expecting something a little different, that’s all.”

  He recovered well and I was quick to forgive him as he stroked my arm with the back of his fingers. I got goose bumps almost immediately at his cool touch. It was strange that sometimes he felt so warm and other times he was ice cold. It was like he could control his temperature to suit.

  Joining me on the step, he ran his palm underneath my hair and pressed his opened hand across the keyhole cutout of my blouse, bringing me in a little closer. Grazing my lower back as he swept his hand downwards, he leaned in to me, sweeping my waist-length curls out of the way.

  “I think the detail is meant to show off your back. I hope you’re wearing a top underneath because it’s chilly and not because y
ou are trying to cover up your scar?”

  Gabriel had a way of hitting the nail on the head. That was, of course, precisely the reason.

  “I don’t like it. Even though my hair covers it, I feel more comfortable this way.”

  Sighing, I watched him become more troubled for me. “Come on!” he said, lightening the moment. “I have something to show you.”

  He found my hand and he led me right down to the back of the house, into a grand library, full of bookcases filled with all types of literature. At the far end, in the bay window overlooking the grounds, sat a beautiful custom-made wooden chessboard placed upon a mahogany table with two leather chairs on either side. It reminded me of an old man’s den.

  Sitting me down on a dark green chair, he made his way over to the corner of the room, pulling up a floorboard mysteriously. When he returned, he was clutching a heavy box that he placed carefully next to the board before sitting down opposite me. Opening it, he proceeded to place a set of red and white ivory chess pieces into their rightful positions on the board. He didn’t rush and took his time to put each figure carefully in its correct square. The pieces were hand-carved and quite remarkable, having been kept in immaculate condition, despite their obvious age. He tilted one of the rooks up to me, displaying the stamp underneath on its base.

  It read: Calvert, 189, Fleet Street.

  For a second, it seemed to mean something to me, but I was grasping at a loose thread; no change there. For once Gabriel answered, looping the thread and tying it neatly in a bow.

  “I bought this set in 1839, from a small shop in London, as a gift for you.”

  I felt my eyes widen—1839!

  Too quickly the words tumbled: “How old was I when you met me, how many lives had I lived? Do you know?”

  “You were mortal then. I met you when you were sixteen. I celebrated your birthday with you when you turned seventeen, just the two of us,” he said.

  “What happened to me?” My heart pounded hard, thudding against my chest.

  “You died, Lailah. You were gone and so I left. How and why can wait. You need answers, I need them too.”

  “But where did you go, where have you been all this time?”

  “Where I went isn’t important. You said you never forgot me. Well, now I want you to remember what it was that you never forgot. I want you to have those memories back. The rest will come, in good time.”

  He could tell me more. He knew everything about me, back then at least. There was a reason why he wasn’t revealing everything to me. It was as though he was trying to anaesthetize me, to soften the blow.

  I slouched back, swallowed up by the broken leather, and waited.

  Finally, he moved, slipping his hands together in a prayer-like shape, resting his elbows on his knees, watching me. I was confused to say the least; I didn’t know what he was expecting.

  I broke the silence first, nodding at the chess set. “It’s very beautiful, but I don’t know how to play.”

  Was he waiting for me to start?

  Gabriel remained mute, his hands covering his lips making it difficult to read him. His mouth, I had noticed, had come to give him away on occasion. If he had a tell, it was his lips. Still he said nothing. I tuned in my other senses; he wasn’t communicating to me through my mind, but as I focused in I could feel a level of expectancy rising within him.

  He left it a little longer, then outstretched his strong arm and placed his hand on mine, positioning it on top of a pawn. As he curled my grip around the cold, silky ivory, the room started to vibrate and pop all around me.

  I found myself zooming through a tunnel of light, and at the end, the exact same chess pieces. Images began seeping in, but I was reluctant, so they didn’t come easily. I thought I heard Gabriel in the distance encouraging me to explore them, so I eased myself and stopped trying to escape.

  As soon as I accepted the vision, I found myself staring at an image of Gabriel and my past self. We were perched over the chessboard. This was my memory; brushing the pawn had triggered it. He must have hoped it would.

  Gabriel was kneeling behind me, hand on top of mine, moving the pawn up and diagonally along the squares. I was giggling and he was cheek-to-cheek with me, talking, explaining the rules. We were in a barn. Horses were tied up below us. The board rested at the very top of a high pile of stacked hay bales. We were having fun and a stream of summer sunlight filled the space through the open doors. Delight and excitement overwhelmed my past self and it rushed over me as I watched.

  My outfit was a little over-the-top compared to current standards: a light cotton pastel-blue day dress with petticoats and big puffed-up sleeves. My face was the same; even my hair retained warm, vibrant shades of blond blending delicately together. Other than the clothing, I didn’t look any different.

  I observed him gently moving my hand and the pieces across the board in different ways. I felt myself knot inside as his hand touched my own. Just as I was acclimatizing to the scene, smashing hooves clipped against an uneven ground. The sharpness of the clatter from a rearing mare scratched my eardrums, and the image splintered. The broken shards of a glass sheet fell all at once.

  Hiding behind it was a new memory.

  Again it was the two of us, our attention drawn over the heavy wooden board underneath an ancient oak tree. Autumn leaves cascaded down, forming a messy pile covering the grass next to my feet. We sat opposite each other, contemplating our next move. I watched and many minutes seemed to roll by before I finally picked a white knight and moved it carefully to a new spot. Gabriel wore a cheeky smile as he instantly took it with a bishop and presented me with my impounded piece. I tossed my head up to the sky with a disgruntled sigh; Gabriel placed the knight back on the board and reshuffled his bishop to where it had been. He seemed to be trying to show me where I had gone wrong and where I should have placed my piece.

  It was odd; all my visions tended to be in silence, except for the occasional sharp noise. I never heard the voices. I had learned now to interpret body language and movement.

  Watching memories was gripping, but being overcome by the strong emotions that they brought with them still felt unusual. All I felt watching the memory was pure rapture, and I couldn’t recall knowing such happiness in my current life.

  I stretched my arms out in front of me and the tips of my fingers tingled as the air swelled around them. I was on the outside looking in. I had time to take in the memory for a few more moments but Gabriel couldn’t resist any longer; he had jumped into the tunnel, tuning in to my private channel, and watching once again.

  As he joined, my memory broke apart into tiny segments, and as if blowing gently through a plastic tube, he manipulated the image, creating a series of tiny bubbles all reflecting the story that had disappeared somewhere inside me once upon a time. The bubbles drifted and vanished from sight.

  My memory, now blown away, became replaced instead by images from Gabriel’s consciousness. He presented me with a slide show, but this time the photos whirled around, spinning and twisting.

  They depicted similar moments of playing the game, always just the two of us in each other’s company. One of the images floated directly in front of me, tempting me. I reached out, trying to capture it as the picture paused just long enough for me to succeed. I poked my fingertips through its seal and it welcomed me by playing the story for me to watch.

  I was sitting once more atop the haystack, hiding in the far corner. Gabriel sat behind me, my back lying flush to his chest, resting in his arms.

  The white king lay horizontal and the other characters were scattered in a small heap next to the thick wood. An overwhelming sense of joy filled me and I realized that I was starting to feel what Gabriel had felt in that moment. I was suddenly intensely aware of a sensation of desperate longing. Had he joined in, so I could feel how he had felt and experience this the way he had?

  I wasn’t sure, but I became, in that split second, more certain than I had been about anything else. H
e had loved me!

  I homed in on us, Gabriel weaving his fingers through the ends of my long hair, my eyes closed. Skimming his hands down my arms in front of him, he tickled them, grazing his fingertips along my pale skin.

  He breathed into my neck as he nuzzled into me lovingly. I viewed him stroking my face, engulfed in light and happiness. My former self opened her eyes and I knew that I had been pretending to sleep. As he gazed adoringly into my eyes, a tremendous ache gripped my heart. He had pined for me so deeply.

  The tips of our noses brushed together before finally our lips met. It was a deep lingering kiss. The kiss of two lovers. It was so strange experiencing the emotion of our first embrace from Gabriel’s perspective, but not at all unsettling. I was elated by it on every possible level. As our lips parted the memory froze, suspended in that last image.

  Lailah.

  Time to go back. I didn’t want to leave; I wanted to see what happened next.

  Lailah. He was calling me out, back to the now. But I preferred it there, in the past. By all accounts, it seemed far less complicated.

  It’s time to come back.…

  I still held on, staring at that last image.

  Lailah … He called my name differently this time, reaching and pulling me out.

  I found myself back in the library, hand still cupping the pawn, Gabriel’s still resting on top. I flicked my wide eyes to his.

  Entirely enchanted by him, I couldn’t stop smiling.

  TEN

  “WE WERE A COUPLE BACK THEN?” I asked finally.

  Removing his hand from off the top of mine, he shifted in his chair, taking his time to respond. “Yes and no. The first time I met you, I was completely and utterly captivated and intrigued by you.”

  “By me?” I found that difficult to believe. I had never considered myself anything special and Gabriel was so unique and beautiful.

  “Yes, by you. Don’t seem so surprised! You were innocent and so full of life. Everything about you captured me. I manufactured ways of bumping into you, and reasons for us to spend time together. But even back then there were … complications.”