Marking Time (The Immortal Descendants)

by April White

  “Not destroy. Protect.”

  Mr. Shaw’s gaze sharpened on Archer’s face. “What does the Clocker mean to you?”

  Archer’s voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “I love her.”

  Mr. Shaw roared and lunged at Archer.

  “Stop it!” I put myself between them again and almost got taken out by the force of his blow. “Enough! Archer won’t hurt me but you will if you keep attacking him.” That must have gotten through to him. He stepped back and I was able to get my feet back under me. Mr. Shaw sat warily on a hay bale while Archer retreated to the other side of the barn.

  There were scars marking nearly every inch of Mr. Shaw’s bare chest. I’d seen the newest ones on his back, but the crisscrossed lines on the front looked like the rake of claws across his skin. He didn’t notice my horrified glance and I was able to look away before he caught me staring.

  “What is the game you’re playing, Clocker?” The Bear’s voice was gruff, and I didn’t like how he kept calling me ‘Clocker.’

  “I’m not playing a game. I got thrown in the middle of one and all I want is to find my mother.” My voice broke.

  “Why is the Vampire here?”

  I looked back at Archer, still pacing on the other side of the barn, his shoulders tightening visibly at the Bear’s tone. “I met him in 1888. He helped me escape then from the killer who may have my mother, and he found me again now. He has information I need…” My voice broke again. “And he’s my friend.”

  It sounded lame to my ears after Archer’s proclamation of love, but I honestly didn’t know what I felt. And I didn’t need to be announcing it to my teacher, whatever it was.

  “So this isn’t the Vampire you want to kill then.” It was a statement, not a question, and I almost heard the hint of a joke in the Bear’s gruff voice.

  “No. I don’t actually want to kill anyone. I just need to know how.”

  Mr. Shaw looked at Archer. “Got any tips for her, Vampire?”

  His mouth tightened and his eyes narrowed. Archer really didn’t like Mr. Shaw, and I had the sense that feeling was quite mutual.

  “Go for the jugular, isn’t that what you teach your cubs?”

  Okay, that was enough of that. “Archer, I need to finish my lesson with Mr. Shaw. Can we meet later?”

  “You’re not allowed outside at night.” The Bear was back to full growl-mode.

  “Isn’t that because of Archer though? I mean, he is the Vampire they’re hunting, right?” It galled Mr. Shaw to concede that point, but he finally nodded. “If you’ll leave the solarium window unlocked I can make it back in without letting anyone know I’ve been gone.”

  “And how will you evade the Hunters?”

  “She’ll be with me.” Archer’s voice sounded posh and upper class in comparison to Mr. Shaw’s, but it was equally dangerous.

  Mr. Shaw considered him for a long moment, and then looked at me. “The Hunters won’t be out for another hour, so you have your conversation now and we’ll finish our lesson in my office when you’re back inside.”

  I nodded meekly. It seemed to mollify him a little.

  Mr. Shaw threw one last menacing look at Archer as he stood up to go. “Your accent puts you around a hundred and fifty, but don’t think I’m not stronger, faster or more experienced than you, Vampire. Regardless of your age, you’re still a cub to me.”

  Mr. Shaw grabbed his sweater off the barn floor and stalked out of the barn. I noticed the bandage on his shoulder had been ripped off again. The wound was almost healed and I had a moment of irrational pride that my poultice had done well on him.

  Archer was suddenly in front of me. “What the hell are you doing, Saira? Why do you need to know how to kill a Vampire?”

  I rubbed my eyes tiredly. “I’m not planning to sneak up on you while you’re asleep if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

  He scoffed. “Until the other night I wouldn’t have been. Now I’m not so sure.”

  I gaped at him. “You can’t be serious. I would never hurt you while you’re sleeping.”

  “Just when I’m awake, hmm?” There was a bare hint of bitterness in his voice, but it was enough.

  “I don’t know how to react when you say you love me. I barely even know you.”

  “You know me. Better than anyone. And you forget it’s been a hundred and twenty five years since we first met. That is a very long time.” What could I say to that? “I’m not here to pressure you, Saira. Or make you feel anything you don’t. I truly am just here to watch over you while you learn the things you need to know here.”

  I had a sudden thought. “You’ve seen what happens, haven’t you? Mr. Shaw said Vampires keep their Family skills even after they’re turned. And you are a Seer.”

  “My mother was. I was just her barely gifted son.”

  “It was enough. The genes are in you. What have you seen about me, Archer? What do you know about what happens?”

  He hesitated a long time before he finally spoke. “I’ve seen someone betray you, and I’ve seen you hurt, but only the aftermath of both.” He closed his eyes as if trying to block out visions. “I don’t know details or anything else that can keep you safe. So I’m here, now, to do what I can.” He took a deep breath. “And when you go back to my past again you have to find me and tell me about myself.”

  I stared at him. “But it’s already happened. The past is already done. You know what happened then. You can tell me!”

  He shook his head. “I can’t. All of my memories around you are blurry, like I’m looking at all the possible pasts at once. Only the ones that have already happened to you are clear in my head. I can’t tell you what you’ve done because you haven’t done it yet.”

  There was desperation in Archer’s voice and I wanted to put my arms around him and tell him everything would be okay. But I didn’t know if it would. For all I knew, my mother had been turned into a Vampire. She couldn’t die, so if The Ripper bit her, infection was her only choice.

  I had to go back and try to find her. I needed all the help I could get and my best shot at success was standing right in front of me. I took a deep breath. “Will you help me?”

  Betrayed

  Getting into Archer’s bunker was a little tricky because Annie and Mrs. Taylor were still in the kitchen. But Archer showed me a well-concealed route and within a couple of minutes we were in the cellar. My night vision, which had been fine when we were outside, failed me completely in the cellar because there was absolutely no light coming in anywhere. So Archer kept hold of my hand until we were inside his room. When he finally let go to light an oil lamp I felt a flash of loss, like his skin had generated warmth that wasn’t actually even possible.

  With the orange glow cast by the oil lamp, Archer’s room felt like a cozy den where I wanted to curl up with a good book. The only thing missing was a fire in a fireplace. It said a lot for him that he had made such a comfortable place under the school. Most guys didn’t care how they looked or smelled, much less how they lived.

  Archer pulled open a massive, old-timber armoire. “I think there are some things in here from earlier this century, but I’m not sure about anything older.” He was sorting through hangers of clothes, mostly black, but with a flash of white or gray thrown in for ‘color.’ I laughed.

  “Do you have any idea how weird that sounds?”

  He smiled. “You’re just lucky I’m a clothes horse.”

  “Is that what you are? To me it just looks like you never threw anything away.”

  He scoffed. “Let me guess, everything you own is in that suitcase you brought with you.”

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “More or less. When you’ve moved as much as I have you tend to throw stuff away instead of pack it all the time.”

  “I guess that’s the difference then. I’ve had this room here for about the last eighty years. And before that I kept a room in the basement of King’s College.”

  I stared at him. “Seriously? Didn’t anyon
e notice the same guy hanging out year after year?”

  He smirked. “Students. They’ve always been my camouflage. It’s a little tougher here because I’m older than everyone. But this is a better hiding space, and much more comfortable. When they closed down the upper floors most of the furniture was brought here so I’ve had my pick of good pieces. The bed was my favorite though. It reminds me of the one in my father’s bedroom.” I watched him rifle through his clothes, pulling out hangers here and there draped with dark-colored, soft-looking fabrics. “Did you ever see your dad again… after?”

  He paused in his task. “You mean after I was turned?” I nodded. He turned back to the wardrobe and continued pulling items. “I used to go out to the estate and watch him. Ultimately, I couldn’t stand to see my father get frail, and when he died I stopped going.”

  “So he believed you died?”

  He shook his head. “He never knew. I actually inherited some land from him in Epping Place that I was able to claim after my brother died. I’ve kept it in my name so my tenants could stay indefinitely. Actually, Millicent’s housekeeper uses the cottage as her weekend home, much like her grandmother did.”

  I stared at him. “Sanda? Does she know you own it?”

  “She knows of me, but we haven’t personally met. Her grandmother was a very good friend to me… in the beginning.” Archer seemed to shake himself out of his memories. He held up a pair of dark trousers and a black topcoat. “Here, these might fit the style you’re looking for. Try them on and I can make any alterations you might need.”

  That surprised me almost as much as the change of subject. “You can sew?”

  His smile was wry. “And hang a door, and re-cover a chair, and fix an engine, and patch a tire. Not too many of those services are open after dark.”

  “Wow.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Glad there’s at least something I can do to impress you.” He held out the clothes. “There’s a screen over there. Try them on.”

  Our fingers touched as I took the hangers from him and I got that impossible jolt of heat again. I couldn’t look him in the eyes as I went around the screen. What the hell had gotten into me? Why was I suddenly acting all fluttery and lame? I had always wanted to smack the girls who acted like that around guys because it seemed so fake. I guessed maybe it was time to let up on a few of the harsh judgments I was so good at.

  I usually wore skinny jeans because there was no excess fabric to catch on fences and door latches when I was free-running, so the trousers felt loose-fitting and almost sensuous with their silky lining. His white shirt had tiny little buttons and was huge on my shoulders, but I tucked it in and cinched the waist of the trousers with a belt.

  Archer’s eyes flared when I stepped out from behind the screen, and I felt a flush of self-consciousness at the intensity of his gaze. I held my arms out for inspection.

  “Everything’s big on me, but it’s all so soft. You have nice things.”

  His voice was oddly husky and very controlled when he spoke. “You make them look good.” I felt a little pinned by his gaze and was relieved when he finally looked away to the wardrobe. He pulled out a black sweater and tossed it to me.

  “Here. A polo neck will suit the docks.” The turtleneck was fine cashmere and so soft I wanted to wrap myself in it. “Try it and we’ll see how much the trousers need to be taken in.”

  I slipped the black cashmere over my head and it fell perfectly around me, big like sweaters should be. Archer nodded.

  “If you wear the shirt under it you can quickly change looks as needed.”

  I smiled. “The master of disguise, huh?”

  He returned my wry expression. “Often a matter of survival.”

  He pinched the fabric of the trousers on each side of my hips and deftly pinned it in place. It was strange to have his hands on me, but I tried to will myself to feel like a mannequin. After a moment he stepped back to look at his work. “The length is good, and I think taking it in a little on top will make you look less like a boy playing dress-up with his father’s clothes.”

  “As long as I still look male, that’s all that matters.”

  He smiled wryly. “If it’s night and your hair is out of sight, maybe.”

  “Hey, I fooled you, didn’t I?”

  “You couldn’t now.”

  “Why not?”

  He scoffed. “I’ve lived through the last half of the twentieth century. Clothes no longer define gender like they used to.” He gestured to the garments I wore. “Take those off so I can fix them.”

  I slipped behind the screen again and quickly changed back into my jeans and T-shirt. It was cold in the basement so I held out the black cashmere sweater as I emerged. “Is it okay if I borrow this?”

  Archer gave me a funny look. “Anything I have is yours.”

  “Careful, you’ve got some rugs down here that would go a long way toward warming up my little room up in the castle.”

  I pulled the gorgeously soft sweater over my head as he scrutinized me. “You’re no longer sharing a room with the Monger.”

  “How’d you know?”

  “I looked for you there last night.”

  I couldn’t believe I actually felt a sense of loss that I hadn’t been there. I shook my head. “I moved myself. There’s an empty wing on the North side. I’m on the second floor, down at the end by the fire escape. Did Raven see you last night?”

  “Raven is the Monger? No. I saw at once she wasn’t you so I left before she woke.”

  “She’s pretty though, huh?” I should have bitten my tongue off before admitting I cared what he thought.

  He shrugged like he hadn’t given it a second thought. “She wasn’t you.”

  I moved away from that minefield of a topic. “Did you know the Monger teacher, Ms. Rothchild, brought Romanian Hunters to the school? They look like jackbooted skinheads.

  “They’re Weres.”

  I stared at him. “As in Wolves?”

  He nodded grimly. “Their scent is everywhere. They’ve been marking the woods all around the school.”

  “They’re here to hunt you.” Now I was really scared for him.

  “I’ve encountered Weres before. Mongers have always used them as enforcers for the dirty jobs, and though they’re very good with weapons, they lack control when they change. Unlike Shifters, Weres lose themselves to blood lust, which makes them just as weak as it does dangerous.”

  Was he serious? I could barely wrap my brain around the idea that so many nightmares were actually true. Again, self-preservation kicked in with the realization that the rulebook was way out the window. ‘Just roll with it’ was my new motto. Archer seemed to realize he’d freaked me out.

  “Do you know about warded rooms?”

  I shivered. “I know they’re cold places I have no desire to hang out in. Why?”

  “Do you know where the wards are in St. Brigid’s?”

  “One. It’s up in the East Tower.”

  “Could you get to it if you had to?”

  I stared at Archer. “The Weres aren’t here for me.”

  He took another deep breath and nodded. “I just need to know you’re safe during the day when I can’t be there.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  Archer’s gaze never wavered from mine. “Don’t forget, you’re also being hunted.”

  I suddenly shivered at the thought of Slick. “By a Monger.” My voice was a whisper. “I can feel it. I have an insane need to bolt anytime a Monger is near me. And Slick is one, I know it.”

  Archer accepted my words without a question. “For some reason the Mongers have painted a target on you. Until we know why, I exist in fear that they’ll take you from me.” His eyes were locked on mine.

  I’d been feeling fairly secure at St. Bridgid’s, but Archer’s words reminded me of the predator/prey game that had played out around Whitechapel Station with Slick.

  “I need to go to London, Archer. Can you get me there?�
�

  “Okay. When?”

  “Can we go tonight?”

  “And the Shifter?”

  “I should go to his office now before he starts tearing the place apart to look for me. But if you can take me later, there’s something I need to check out under the London Bridge.”

  Archer nodded, thoughtfully. “The dogs come out at 9pm and the last of the staff goes to sleep around midnight. I can come for you then, but we’ll need a diversion.” I thought about the different ways to distract dogs and steak came immediately to mind. I said as much to Archer and he laughed. “I meant the Weres. Don’t worry, I’ll deal with them, you just be ready to leave at midnight.”

  The Weres. He was so casual about them, while I was practically wetting my pants at the idea of running from Werewolves. “How does one ‘deal with’ a Werewolf?” Archer grinned in a way I can only describe as wolfish. I shuddered. “Okay, I don’t want to know.”

  He stopped laughing. “Do you need me to bring anything?”

  I smirked. “Breadcrumbs? I’ve never been where we’re going and I don’t know my way around.”

  He grinned. “Sounds fun.”

  I headed toward the hidden entrance and Archer’s voice came from right over my shoulder. “Be careful with the Shifter.” I turned around, surprised at how close together our faces were. But I didn’t step backwards. His eyes glinted in the dim light from his room.

  “He’s a good guy.”

  Archer grimaced. “None of us are.”

  And suddenly he kissed me.

  His lips were soft and their touch made my heart pound so hard in my chest I was sure he could feel it through his teeth. I couldn’t breathe while his mouth was on mine.

  He pulled back a fraction of an inch, just enough to break the contact between us, and my body felt hot all over. I wanted to reach out and pull him back to me. Oh God, I had to get out of there! I backed up into the wall and Archer reached over my shoulder. I thought he was going to pin me in place, but he unfastened the catch and slid the door open behind me.

  “Bye.” My voice didn’t work properly and the word came out in a whisper. Just as I turned to leave I thought I caught the hint of a smile on his lips, and I couldn’t decide if I liked it, or if it made me want to hit him.