by Dima Zales
Aya curled her lip in a snarl at the memory of being forced awake by it. It had felt like she’d be doused with a bucket of cold water.
“Do you know who wrote the spell in my grimoire?” asked Gabby, picking it up and turning to a place marked by a slip of paper.
Aya looked at the page Gabby pointed out and sighed. “I helped your ancestor, once upon a time. I can't believe that idiot wrote a spell. At least it's not specific, but troublesome.”
“What do you mean, troublesome?”
“I've done a lot of things to annoy many people. None more so than Katrin. I get followed by her thugs more often than not. So, you can understand why this spell is inconvenient.”
“Is that why you hid yourself from us? For fear that we were working with Katrin?” Sam asked gently.
“One reason,” Aya confirmed. “Though, fear had no part in it.”
“Of course not,” Zac snorted.
“Why could you come into Alex's house without being invited?” Liz asked.
Aya thought for a moment, then said, “I can walk wherever I want.”
“But, why?”
“Because I can.” The statement was final.
“Zac, remember the vampire you killed. He was one of Katrin's, wasn't he looking for someone?” Sam prodded. “And he's what started the mess with the werewolves.”
“And what happened to them?” Aya asked, knowing full well she was what happened.
“Gone. They won't bother us again,” Zac glowered as if remembering something horrible. “The vampire was looking for you, Aya. No doubt about it.”
“What makes you say that?” she asked.
“I remember because I made fun of him. He said he was looking for a woman; black of hair, blue of eye. And you're the only one fitting that description around here.”
“What was his name?”
“Alistair something. Payne? I don't really remember.”
“And you killed him?” Aya cocked her head.
“Yes.”
“Good. He was annoying.” She seemed satisfied.
“You knew him?” Sam asked.
Aya snorted in frustration. “It doesn't really matter, now. Unfortunately, I've lost the element of surprise, but we can work with that. Katrin was watching you somehow.” How the hell had they tracked her here? Again?
“How could she be watching us?” Liz looked horrified.
“Katrin is a very old witch, Liz. She found a way to stop her spirit passing on, thus remaining in an in-between place to continue influencing the living. She has many vampires and witches in her following and can see many places through the eyes of others.”
“So, you think there's someone physically watching us?” asked Zac, knowing full well that at least one vampire had them under surveillance.
“Perhaps. It's hard to tell. Usually, I can sense who's around, but a witch can help shield them. Especially now that Katrin knows I'm here, that's even more likely.”
“Then it would all be in our best interests if you stay here with us at the manor,” Sam stated. “As you said, they're after you as well. There's plenty of room and I'm sure Zac won't mind.”
Zac glared at his brother. “I do mind, actually. What's to stop her killing us all in our sleep? All we have is her word and after all the lies she has told us … ”
Aya rolled her eyes. “If I wanted to kill you all, Zac, I could have done it a billion times by now. Besides, I've only ever told you the truth with a few glaring omissions.” Zac huffed in annoyance. “Katrin has caused me much trouble in the past, so I would really like to finish the bitch off. I have no issue with you other than that you're an asshole.” Gabby let out a laugh at Aya's statement. “I won't murder you in your sleep. Cross my heart.”
“If you cross the line, Aya, be warned … ”
“What are you going to do Zac? Punch me like a twenty pound weakling?” She walked around him, sizing him up. “I'd like to take you down a few pegs.”
“Cut it out, you two,” Sam said firmly, ever the level headed mediator.
Gabby cleared her throat, changing the subject yet again. “So, what do you suggest we do? Go on the offensive or defensive?”
“There's not much we can do until either Katrin shows herself, or one of her thugs appears. Which won't be long,” Aya shrugged. “Once the witch has come out of hiding, we need a way to break her hold on the living and send her to the other side for good. There's some witchy homework for you, Gabby.” Aya doubted that she could find a way; she seemed totally unaware of her potential. It radiated all around the young witch, but telling her as much would defeat the purpose. Gabby had to find it for herself.
“I'm only new at this, Aya. I don't know what good I can do.” Gabby tried to hide the panic in her voice, but it wavered, giving her away.
“I'm sure you'll find something.” Aya smiled for the first time. “We'll have a lot to keep us entertained in the meantime.”
“Like what?” Zac was still annoyed.
“Staking vampires, thwarting assassination attempts. You know, all the fun stuff.” Aya groaned inwardly at the awkward silence that followed. What a boring bunch of vampires. Even she had a taste for a little persuasive violence now and then. But, perhaps not quite as persuasive as ripping apart werewolves had been.
“Well,” Liz proclaimed to cover up the awkward silence. “It's rather late, so we better be going home. Could you give me a ride Gabby?”
“Sure,” Gabby looked relieved as she gathered her things, her mind seeming preoccupied with the task Aya had entrusted her with.
“Speak to you tomorrow.” Liz gave Sam a quick kiss on the lips as they left the parlor, the front door closing a moment later.
Zac glared at Aya and disappeared from the room without a word. Sam shrugged apologetically. ”Do you need to go get anything?”
“No,” Aya shook her head.
“Nothing? No clothes or anything?” He seemed a little taken aback. She supposed most people had some stuff, a change of clothes would be normal, even for a vampire. She wasn’t really what constituted as ‘normal’.
“I'm not attached to possessions.”
“Well, let me show you upstairs. We have a spare room you can use.” He cocked his head towards the door.
Sam led her up the stairs and opened the first door next to the landing. “You can use this room. The bathroom is through there. It joins to my room on the other side. If you need anything, let one of us know. If you want to buy anything I can give you some cash, we don't make a habit of compelling people if we don't have to.” He turned and walked back to the bedroom door. “And we don't eat them, either.”
Aya nodded her understanding and he closed the door behind him. How the hell had she wormed her way into the Degaud manor? She didn't intend to harm any of them, but it was way too easy. She made a mental note to have a word with Sam about security.
11
When Aya opened her eyes it was light outside. She sat up, taking in her surroundings in the stark light of day. The room they had given her was modest, but the bed was comfortable. Better than she had slept on in the last one hundred and fifty years, but anything would be better than a lump of rock.
There was no sound coming from the bathroom or the room beyond. Sam had already left for work, it seemed. She showered and dressed in the same clothes as she wore yesterday, making a note to get some more later on.
Venturing out into the hallway, she caught the faint hum of Zac's blood somewhere on the manor grounds. Keeping a note of his general location she began to explore the house. The brothers had done a lot of work to it since moving in. The entire place had been wired with electricity with soft tasteful lighting in every room. She wondered how many workmen they had to compel to have this done. Then again, their parents had been rich plantation owners and a hundred years of interest in their bank accounts would have made them even more well off.
She passed the door to the master bedroom she knew to be Zac's and kept walking. She
shuddered to think what was in there. That one could remain a mystery. Tiptoeing down the stairs, she wandered to the back of the house, where the kitchen was located. It was attached to a formal dining room with a long mahogany table with twelve chairs and what looked like the original chandelier hanging from the center of the room. Landscape paintings were on each wall, but otherwise it was bare and looked unused.
She wandered back down the hallway, coming to another closed doorway. Running her hand along the frame to the door handle she listened for a moment and turned it quietly, the door creaking inwards. She found herself in a room that served as a study. A large mahogany desk stood to one side, covered in old papers and books. Behind it, the entire wall was lined with bookshelves filled with more books and trinkets. Opposite, were floor to ceiling French doors that opened up onto the verandah. Outside, she saw the wisteria that had once been grown in such a manicured fashion had over taken most of the railings, ventured up to the second floor and onto the roof. It had been a long time, but she remembered this room as if it were yesterday. Actually, in light of her current predicament, it was only last week.
Approaching the bookshelves, she ran her fingers across the spines, reading the titles as she went. There was a layer of dust, which gave away the fact that no one had moved anything from the shelves in a very long time. They all seemed to be ledgers from the old plantation. Expenditure, profit … until she placed her finger on a copy of Shakespeare’s Julius Cesar. Her heart clenched for a moment. She had known a few very dangerous Romans once upon a time. Pulling it from the shelf she flicked through the pages, finally looking at the inside cover. In a perfect script was written, For Louis, Many happy returns on the day of your birth, Arthur Risom.
Arthur Risom. The name sounded familiar.
"What are you doing?" Aya turned to find Zac at the door. He was looking at her in a threatening manner as usual, arms crossed over his chest.
She hadn't heard him appear and she should have by the sound of his blood alone. Placing the book back she said nothing, scolding herself internally.
"Do you always sneak around like that?" he scowled at her.
"Pfft. I don't sneak.”
"Then what were you doing?"
She grinned wickedly, biting her lower lip. "Sneaking."
"I don't know what your looking for, but I don't appreciate you poking about my father's study."
"Whatever." She threw her hands up in mock defense. "Touchy this morning, aren't we?"
"Only because you're here," he sneered, looking her up and down.
"Then perhaps I should go watch the show from the sidelines.” She sauntered over to him and looked into his strange green eyes. "When they come for you, you'll beg me to poke around." She glared and pushed past his bulky frame into the hallway. Walking down the hall and into the parlor, she heard him following her for round two.
"Aya," he said, not trying to hide his exasperation. "Just leave that stuff alone. It belonged to my father. I just don't want anyone to touch it, okay?"
She turned, raising an eyebrow at him. "Whatever. If it means that much to you, then I won't go in there again. Satisfied?"
He didn't look convinced, but he nodded anyway and sat on the couch in a huff.
"You know, this place could really use a duster. It's not as nice as I remember it," she jabbed. "I pity those with allergies. This place is a death trap."
"You've been here before?" he sounded surprised.
Nodding, she said, "I never left."
"What do you mean?" he asked, confused.
"I was asleep since eighteen sixty-ish."
Zac didn't mask his surprise. "You've been asleep in Ashburton for the last one hundred and fifty years?"
Aya shrugged, running a finger across the dusty mantelpiece. "If you hadn't summoned me, I probably still would be." Truthfully, the fact that she had slept so long worried her. Who knows when she would have woken if not for Zac and his impulsiveness. It could only mean she was becoming weaker and she hoped that wasn't true.
"Where?" he asked, not fathoming the mechanics of it.
"The cave. By the lake," she said matter-of-factly.
"Then you would have been here when Sam and I … "
"Louis Degaud was quite the gentleman," she said absently.
"My father?"
"Yes. I believe so."
"Did I? Did Sam … "
"I think you would have remembered if you had met me," she laughed. "I had quite a dramatic presence back then. I believe Louis' eldest son was away fighting in the war, which was quite the scandal. His youngest … Well, I don't really remember. Mrs. Degaud, what was her name again? Marie. She was as polite as they came in those days, which meant she'd stab you in the back if you were to come between her husband and her money."
"When did you leave?" he whispered, his expression somewhat shocked.
Aya frowned at his tone. "About the time your parents received word of their sons heroic death."
"I see."
Aya sensed there was something he thought she knew, but was uncertain of asking her. "The last I knew of this town and the world was in the eighteen sixties. Whatever came to pass after that is unknown to me, along with the so called massacre."
Zac was silent for a moment, as if he was trying to decide what to tell her. "I died in the Civil War," he said finally. "I was shot and left for dead. But, before I died a vampire came. I supposed it was because of all the blood. I was the only one still alive in the pile of corpses. She saw I was a captain and took me for her own gain. When I finally understood that she was using me, I left only to find that she had reached my family before I could."
He stood and walked to the window opposite with his back to her. She could feel that he was troubled by it, trying to hide his expression from her. Who was his maker? Obviously a callous bitch by the sounds of it. This was the vampire that had massacred every last human at the plantation after all. No wonder Zac was such an asshole.
Aya found herself feeling sorry for him, but stopped herself from saying it out loud. She felt sorry now, but back then would she really have done anything to stop it? Instead she asked, "Did you kill her?"
"Yes," he declared, still looking out the window, carefully hiding the emotion in his voice.
"Good." She clapped her hands together, standing up. "Then that problem is solved. The wicked vampire is dead. What was her name?"
Zac turned and frowned at her. "Victoria."
"Oh! Victoria. Long, curly auburn hair? In America by the way of France? Up-herself English bitch? Are we thinking about the same cold hearted vampire here?"
"How did you … " he whispered, eyes wide with surprise.
"Bitch got what she deserved. I hope you made it slow and extremely painful."
Zac was looking at her slightly horrified. He'd met his match in her, that was glaringly obvious.
"Well, thanks for the little chit chat," Aya smiled brightly. "Paces to go, people to eat. You know how it goes." And she was gone before he could open his mouth.
Liz was relieved when Gabby came into the coffee house. The previous night was weighing heavily on her and it was all she could do to remain focused on work. Making herself a coffee, she went and sat with her friend in a booth by the window.
Gabby, seeing she was wound up, produced a flask from her bag and handed it to her under the table. Mrs. Greene wouldn't take too kindly to her staff drinking on the clock and at midday, too. She hadn't tested how much it took to make her drunk these days, but she assumed it was a lot.
"To the Irish," Gabby grinned as Liz dumped the contents of the flask into her coffee.
"Thanks, Gab. I really need this today," she sighed, relaxing back into the booth, conscious of the customers around them.
"What kind of friend would I be if I didn't pick up on these things?" she winked, grinning. "Besides, with the weird shit we have to deal with, a little whiskey never goes astray."
"Mental, is what it is," Liz groaned. "But, we're in it
now, I guess."
"Up to the eyeballs."
"What do you make of her?"
"Who, Aya?"
"Yeah."
Gabby thought for a moment. "Well, she's over two thousand years old. That's gotta screw with your head after a while."
Liz groaned, letting her head loll backwards. "I don't want to think about age."
"Sorry.”
"It's okay. I guess thinking about where I'll be in two thousand years is a bit of overkill," Liz laughed at the idea.
"Well, as for Aya, I believe her. There's a lot she's not saying, though. I'm not sure if we should be wary of that or not."
"She also implied that Katrin was hunting her as well," Liz pointed out. "I wonder what she did?"
"And I wonder how long she's been hunted," Gabby added. "Alistair was looking for her, and he was linked to Katrin."
"You're right," Liz took a gulp of her coffee. "Argh! It makes my head hurt."
Gabby was frowning, her mind having drifted to something else. "What I don't understand is why she would help my ancestor. Vampires and witches don't usually get along. I can understand her hunting them, but forging alliances?"
"You get along with Zac and Sam," Liz said. "And me."
"Yeah, but you guys fight your vampire side. You want to be as human as possible. Aya seems like a force all of her own."
"She's not like vampires are meant to be.”
"No, that's my point. She's not like you, she doesn't hold onto anything that's human. Or doesn't seem to. She's holding onto something else," Gabby said, frustrated. "I just wish I could figure out what."
"Maybe she was a witch. Before, I mean," she offered.
"No. Witches become ordinary vampires when they're turned. All connection with any power and earth sense is lost."
"How do you know?"
Gabby smiled. "The grimoire is more than a book of spells and potions. It also acts as a kind of journal. A connection to those that have come before."
"Like a family record, a story?"
"Kind of. More like passing along advice," she grinned. "Which I really need, since I'm on my own."
"I think we should be on our guard where Aya's concerned. She's obviously got her own agenda," Liz sighed, catching sight of Alex over Gabby's shoulder. He was frowning at them, clasping his lunch so hard his thumb had dented the sandwich.