Lailah (The Styclar Saga)

by Nikki Kelly

  I texted Gabriel, asking him to call me as soon as possible. Then I made my excuses and went for a nap in the basement bedroom.

  I must have drifted off thinking of him, for as I slept an image of his blue eyes opened up in my mind. At first I was excited to see his face. He was in a bar, tucked away in a quiet corner, and he wasn’t alone. I watched as he talked quickly and I peered past his image to see a far older, light-haired man who was listening attentively while scratching his head, an intrigued look on his face.

  I was dreaming, but I was confident that what I was seeing was real, either from the past or perhaps of the future. It was difficult to know.

  The man Gabriel conversed with looked fairly ordinary and nondescript; if I hadn’t known Gabriel was searching out a fallen Angel I would have assumed this being was human. Gabriel paused briefly to pull his iPhone from his pocket and I watched as he read the message that I had sent him. He bundled it back into his jeans’ pocket and continued talking.

  Now the fallen Angel rubbed his stubble and began to speak. I couldn’t tell what he was saying; as ever, the picture was muted. As he spoke he waved his hands about in the air, expressing himself with dramatic effect. The conversation seemed to go on for a very long time. I started drifting away but then the fallen Angel’s body suddenly stiffened at something Gabriel had said, rekindling my interest. He gawked at Gabriel, his tumbler slipping toward the table a few inches from where he grasped it. I wondered what Gabriel had told him that had caused his reaction. He stood up and made his way over to a pay phone, sliding in some silver coins, with his back to Gabriel.

  When he returned he wrote something down on a napkin, folded it carefully, and handed it to Gabriel. Nodding respectfully as he uttered a few last words to him, Gabriel seemed to thank him in reply and then was up, striding through the bar and out of the doorway. I watched him leave, but I found myself unable to follow, so instead I turned my attention to the fallen Angel still sitting at the table. Now alone, he held his face in his hands, and swayed from side to side.

  After a moment, he made his way over to the bar. I watched him neck a brandy as if to steady his nerves. The bar woman seemed to inquire genuinely after his well-being, and this time he spoke slowly enough for me to read his lips: “Nothing. Just the end of all worlds.”

  I wished for Gabriel and, like a genie in a bottle, he appeared in front of me against a different backdrop.

  He was fumbling around in his pockets and finally produced a key. He stood in a walkway leading up to a seedy motel room opposite a dusty highway. I tried to call his name; maybe I could speak to him? But he didn’t hear me. I remembered then that he was far away and I couldn’t communicate with him. I wanted to tell him what I read from the fallen Angel’s lips, and ask him what was happening. Why hadn’t he called me yet?

  He turned the key in the doorknob and I followed him into the most basic of rooms. He pushed past the sofa and, searching hurriedly, made his way into another room. He called Hanora’s name hastily, and I watched his lips curving in and out over the three syllables that made up her impressive name.

  I thought he’d said that he had separated from her. Were they sharing a room together? I think my heart stopped as he halted inside the doorframe and I looked around, observing Hanora strewn over a bed and wearing little more than an enticing smile.

  I bolted upright in my own bed. And as the haze dispersed, my thoughts fell to Gabriel and Hanora, throwing the fallen Angel’s words far back into the deep recesses of my mind. I wasn’t quite sure what to do.

  Anger filled me, displaying itself in my burning cheeks. I reached for my phone but stopped. If my dream was the present, was the moment happening right now? Would I interrupt them? I found his name and pressed the call button. I didn’t know what I would say, but I had to reach him, tell him that I knew what he was doing, that I had been right all along and that I never wanted to see him ever again. I didn’t get the opportunity. He canceled my call.

  Furious, I leapt off the cotton sheets. Ripping away the glamorous clothes that were molded around my body, I chucked on jeans, T-shirt, and sweater instead.

  Exiting through the garage off the utility room, I marched through the grounds. Where I was going, I had no idea, but I needed to move, to argue with myself in private. It was dark now—I’d overslept; my late afternoon nap had inadvertently turned into an early night. Though it was the early hours of the morning, day was not far away. The planes of grass were slippery; it must have rained during the night. I didn’t care if I fell. I hoped I would fall and keep falling away from here, away from this life.

  I stomped for over a mile, searching for explanations as to what was truly going on with Gabriel and Hanora.

  In the distance, I spotted a horse; in the vast stretch of land, it was the only living thing for miles. I made my way over, and as I finally neared the mare, she didn’t shy away. Running my hand down her silky black coat, she nuzzled into my side. I didn’t know what she was doing here or who she belonged to, and I didn’t care. Well over sixteen hands high, I still managed to hoist myself onto her back, clutching her long mane. I squeezed her sides and she began to trot. Throwing my weight into my bottom, I urged the mare into a canter. It felt freeing to ride through the fields by myself, the crisp silence calming my mind of every erratic thought.

  We neared a forested area; hundreds of deciduous plane trees were grouped together, each one having long lost its leaves with the onset of winter. Their branches resembled splintering claws, seeming to direct me inside. Their thick roots were graying, as though they had been drained and were dying. I half wondered if they were marking an entrance to some sort of house made of gingerbread, waiting for an unwitting person to stumble inside and be consumed by a wicked witch. I considered what evil might lurk—hidden—within.

  At the opening to the forest, the mare sidestepped, shying away from the trees as though something inside them was spooking her. I squeezed my left leg to her side, pushing my weight down harder, in an attempt to encourage the mare to stay still.

  A cold chill ran from my neck down to my toes and suddenly I was mindful that I was out in the wide open and all alone. It occurred to me that any number of my ghosts could be poised like chameleons inside; the girl in shadow, the Pureblood that invaded my visions, maybe even Eligio.

  Then the obvious dawned on me. Ethan.

  We had unfinished business. I needed to talk with him, alone. Clearly he sought the same opportunity. He must have answers, I just didn’t know if he desired my life in exchange for them.

  “Ethan?” I chanced in a soft whisper, my voice traveling on the wind rippling through the trees.

  It was met with stillness, and the mare underneath me waited anxiously. I was about to guide her toward the opening when the arms of the branches began to sway, stretching from the back and moving toward the opening.

  I held my position, mustering my bravery. The branches stopped moving and I was sure for the briefest of seconds that I saw a pair of dulled, red eyes lingering from behind their fort.

  “We need to … talk,” I stuttered.

  My courage was dwindling, though I didn’t believe his intention was to kill me. My memories had led me to believe that we had been close, once. That he hadn’t meant to end my life. But then, he was human when I had known him; now his eyes burned and his soul was submerged in blackness. What had become of him, and how?

  The mare began pacing nervously backward. I patted her neck and felt the wetness of the steam rising from her coat. As though she was able to sense that whoever or whatever had been inside the forest was now edging closer. She knew that this game of hide-and-seek was over before it had really begun.

  A stray twig in the bush snapped as a heavy weight fell. That was all it took. I was thrown off balance as the mare reared with a panicked snort. I braced myself to hit the ground; instead a pair of arms wrapped around me, breaking my fall. The mare bolted and was gone before I had a chance to see where.

 
“You never belonged to the Scouts? ‘Be prepared,’ remember?” Jonah’s voice cut through the eeriness of the now motionless backdrop and I was momentarily relieved that it was him.

  Sitting in his lap, I searched the trees ahead of me. Ethan was gone. But I would find him again, or more likely he would find me first.

  I scuffled about, tilting my head up to meet Jonah’s face. “Where the hell did you come from?”

  “Behind you. After yesterday, you think I’d let you do a runner in the middle of the night, all by yourself?”

  “I get the feeling you’ve always got one eye on me, regardless of the day’s events. Do you remember what I said? You know, about finding another hobby?”

  He wrinkled his nose and said teasingly, “You gonna get off my lap now?”

  “Yes!”

  I stumbled to my feet, dusting myself off in the process.

  “Any particular reason you decided to take a random midnight stroll, steal a horse, and go galloping out to the middle of nowhere?” He vaulted from the grass, far more impressively than I had.

  “No,” I lied.

  “Come on.”

  He signaled for me to jump on his back, but I protested with a firm shake of my head.

  “Err, no thanks, I’d rather walk. You go on ahead, I’ll follow.”

  “And miss the opportunity to play question time? I think not! We’ll take a walk together and you can tell me what happened to you yesterday, and all the other days of your two-hundred-year-long existence.”

  Arching his eyebrows at me, he stretched out his arm, pawing through my knotted hair. He was feeling the now closed-up scar that had formed a bump on the outside of my skull.

  I paced next to him, subdued, weighing my options. I had wanted to speak with Gabriel, but now I didn’t care. As I thought of him and Hanora my stomach did backflips.

  “Can I?” Jonah asked, gesturing to my shoulder blade—the one I had managed to keep hidden from him since it had been stitched up.

  There was no point hiding it now, so I nodded and came to a stop. Lifting the sweater over my head, I pulled down the collar of my T-shirt.

  Almost apprehensively, he swept my curls across my neck and brushed the back of his hand over my cold skin. “How long did it take to heal?” he asked.

  “Not long, only left the faintest of scars this time.”

  He released my hair, but before I had time to squeeze the sweater back on he asked, “This time … how many scars do you have?”

  He trod carefully with his questions, softening them for my benefit.

  “A few. The one down my back is the worst. But at least I know how I got that one.”

  Without asking, he slid his fingertips up the length of my spine and I winced.

  “If Frederic wasn’t gone, I would end him myself. I would take my time.” His tone flipped to sinister and I didn’t doubt that he meant every word.

  I pulled on my sweater and walked back toward the house.

  “You gonna tell me what happened to you in the market?”

  There it was: the first potent question of many, and I decided there and then that I would tell him. Never mind what Gabriel thought; he was obviously too busy with Hanora to be bothered. I would, however, omit the detail about Ethan. If Jonah knew there was a Vampire here he would insist on moving us on, and I wanted to connect with Ethan. We shared a history and I now had an opportunity to discover the detail firsthand. Hopefully including the part where I woke up immortal.

  “I have visions of the past, memories of times gone by. They are windows into my own lives, events I can’t remember.”

  “You said that the wound wouldn’t kill you again. That it was two hundred years old.”

  “Sometimes when I have a vision, I don’t just watch the past. I don’t know how, but I fall back into my body and I relive it. Today, I had a memory of my first life, when I was mortal. I relived the very moment I was killed. Somehow the physical trauma transitions into my present reality, but the damage seems to recede. I feel it, but it doesn’t affect me in the here and now to the same degree. That’s why it didn’t kill me again.” I was whispering. I wasn’t sure why. It was just he and I alone.

  “And you’ve lived for two hundred years?” he asked, his face absent of any emotion.

  “Near enough, that’s what Gabriel tells me. When I was killed, I woke up again. Only I was different, I was changed. I became immortal, and before you ask, I don’t know why.”

  Lightening to gray, the day was dawning, and I shivered. Jonah removed his jacket and secured it around me, taking the edge off the chill.

  “Thanks.”

  “So you knew Gabriel back then?”

  “Yes. When I died he left. He thought I was mortal, finished. I found him again when I found you.” I pulled Jonah’s jacket tighter. “Every time I die, I wake up. I don’t remember anything about the past. I have some fragile recollection of who I am, who I was.… The memories, the visions are the only insight I have. Some days, they seem more of a curse than a gift.”

  Today was one of those days.

  “You don’t know what you are?” Jonah asked.

  I felt my eyes well up. It might have been the question; it might have been my mind conjuring images of Gabriel against my will. Regardless of the situation, he always teetered on the fringes of my consciousness.

  “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t need to get upset,” Jonah said, rubbing my arm with his firm hands, and I allowed him a small smile.

  “You can’t tell the others. Gabriel knows—he’s gone off to try and piece it all together. The others … well, they mustn’t know.”

  “Our secret, I promise.” His reply was definite and unwavering.

  We strolled for a while, lost in thought. I broke the silence first. “Ruadhan and Gabriel have warned me away from you.”

  “I know,” Jonah said. He hovered as if he wanted to tell me something.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing, it can wait; after all we have nothing but time. That goes for both of us apparently.”

  “I beg to disagree. Seems the hands on my clock are about to stop ticking.”

  “You reckon because they seek you out it’s the end. I got news for you—your story’s just beginning.” Jonah was confident, knowing. And strangely, that remark made my heart feel even heavier.

  He smiled widely in an attempt to lighten the mood and, without asking, whisked me up, throwing me on his back, and we sped down through the fields. Looping my hands together around his neck, I clung on tightly.

  Despite my troubles, I felt exhilaration racing through me as we moved faster than lightning back to the front door.

  TWENTY-ONE

  CLINGING TO JONAH AS WE POUNDED across the landscape had somewhat emptied my mind of all the heavy thoughts that had been weighing me down. I jumped to the ground as we neared the house and he swung around to face me.

  “Fun?”

  “Very!” I said.

  “Listen, Cessie, I don’t want to add to your complications, but…”

  “But what?”

  “It’s just … you and Gabriel. I get that you have a history, but you know that can’t work, right?”

  I was about to answer when my phone rang. I pulled it out of my pocket. Gabriel.

  I left it; I didn’t have anything to say to him.

  “I’m hungry,” I told Jonah. “I’m going to grab some breakfast.”

  I made my way to the basement entrance, up the stairs, and into the kitchen. He didn’t try to pursue the conversation any further. Instead, he took up a seat on the corner sofa, flicking on the TV.

  Gabriel must have called ten times as I made myself tea and toast. I guiltily continued to ignore him.

  Eventually, Ruadhan came and sat next to me at the table as I munched on my slightly burnt piece of bread.

  “I’ve got Gabriel on the line for you.”

  He handed me his cell and, now cornered, I took it off him reluctantly.

  �
��Yes?” I said.

  “Take yourself somewhere private.”

  Nodding politely at Ruadhan, I pushed my chair back and heaved open the glass doors, which led into the garden, sliding them firmly closed behind me.

  “I’m alone.” I tried to sound standoffish.

  “I have a lead. I’m traveling to Boston to try and find an Angel called Azrael. I think he may have the answers we need. I should reach the city in a few hours. I’m hoping he’s still there. Then I’m coming to get you.” His words were quick. “Are you okay?”

  “What about Hanora, where is she?” I asked bitterly, ignoring his question.

  “Lai, she’s the last person you should be concerning yourself with.”

  “True, you’re concerning yourself with her enough for the both of us.”

  “I don’t understand?”

  “I dreamt of you in the bar, with Malachi. Then I saw you walking into a motel room.” I paused. “For a friend she has a funny way of greeting you!”

  He didn’t say anything. I took his silence to confirm my worst fears.

  “Well?” I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks.

  “How much did you see?”

  “What does that matter? I didn’t need to see much to know what you were doing.”

  “Lai, you’ve got it wrong. You need to trust me, okay? I know it’s hard, being apart, but I will be with you soon. Please, just have some faith in me.” He sounded sad, but he hadn’t exactly gone out of his way to explain what I had witnessed.

  I was finding it difficult not to burst into tears, so I finished the call. “I have to go.”

  Needing a few moments to gather myself, I wandered over to a seating area built out of stone, but as I was about to sit down, a huge bushy tree—balancing precariously against the high wall—distracted me.

  “Everything okay, love?” Ruadhan stepped out onto the decking, but his face fell when he saw what I was looking at. “Ah, you found it then?”

  “Why is there a tree from the mountains in the garden?” I asked.

  “I got it for you! It’s a Christmas tree, a real one!” His smile sat high on his cheeks. “Just because we’re in hiding doesn’t mean we shouldn’t celebrate, now does it! I picked up some decorations in the market, so let’s take it inside and get started!”