Falling Apart

by Jane Lovering

  ‘What does that mean? Jess?’ Liam pushed the tablet closer, almost between the vampire and me, as though he could capture the meaning of the words by proximity.

  ‘He’s working through the blood. He’ll be back in the land of the living in a minute.’ I glanced up and met Liam’s worried stare. ‘We’re not going to get any more. That must be all he can remember.’

  ‘Oh, shit, Jessie …’ Liam grimaced. ‘I don’t like this.’

  ‘I can’t process this right now. We need to get away, back to the office or … somewhere.’ I rubbed the back of my hand over my face, feeling the sweat of low blood pressure clammy against my forehead. ‘We need to get where Zan can see us, so he doesn’t suspect anything. I’ll take the car back to the hospital, you come and pick me up there – he thinks I’m there anyway, so we can do that legitimately. Then …’

  ‘Then we can panic.’

  I flashed him a grin without humour. ‘Yes, probably.’ I found my hand inadvertently cupping itself around Sil’s head, treasuring the feel of what was left of his hair. ‘I’m going to get him back to the house first.’

  ‘No.’ Sil spoke quickly, decisively for someone who was still half-stoned. ‘Let … let Liam take me. You need … get clear.’

  ‘No. This is down to me. Liam, you get back to the office and I’ll meet you there. If Zan calls then I’m … out on the streets somewhere. You don’t know where I am.’ Liam hesitated, but then held out a hand. ‘What? I’m not going to tip you.’

  ‘Car keys. I need to get your car under cover, just in case someone spots it. And don’t hang around, Jess. I need you back at HQ; there are a lot of implications here.’

  ‘Yes, boss.’

  Liam closed his fist around the keys, screwing his fingers tight enough that he was going to have Volvo embossed on his palm. ‘Be careful.’

  ‘Just go.’

  I waited until we heard the sound of the car moving into the lower yard before I tried to lift Sil to his feet. He staggered against me, the feel of his cool, firm body triggering the desire to coil myself around him, hide somewhere dark and pretend that none of this life-threatening stuff was really happening. To lie in his arms again with his cool body above me and his eyes fixing mine, to feel his whisper against my bare skin and that tremble at the edge of my soul that was my love for him.

  But that was a weakness I couldn’t afford. Not right now. There was simply too much at stake for me to give in and cry in the arms of my lover for a world we couldn’t have.

  ‘Jess.’ Sil’s voice was a breath in my ear that licked its way into my brain and short-circuited away all good sense and resolution. ‘I did not betray you … In London. There was no other. There can be no other for me now.’

  I tried to keep him upright as we wobbled out of the barn and down the stony track to the farmhouse. ‘It did cross my mind that you’d gone to … well, to do vamp things. Without me knowing.’

  ‘You believed I would do that?’ He moved away from me slightly so that he could turn his head and look down on me. ‘To you? But surely, Jessica, surely you must know … how could I ever do something that would cause you such pain?’ His eyes were oddly shaded, the various colours that usually gave them tone seemed to be twisting, undecided how to settle. ‘That I would do that to you …’ he muttered, dropping his gaze to the cobblestones as we reached the back door. ‘I would have to be insane.’

  ‘What are we going to do, Sil?’

  My question seemed to stop him in his tracks. He paused in the hallway that led through to the living room, almost rocking to a standstill. ‘Keep breathing. Keep hoping that there will be an answer to all this.’

  ‘No.’ I followed him as, motion restored, he stepped over a cat in the living room doorway. It flicked an ear, but didn’t wake. ‘I mean about us. You and me. This … whatever it is that we’ve got going on. You’re vampire, you’re pretty much going to live forever and I’m human, well, human where it counts, and …’

  His mouth was on mine, stopping the words, swallowing them down into a place where they never existed. His hands pulled me so close to him that we could have worn the same trousers. ‘Jessica,’ he whispered into my hair as his mouth slid along my jawline, ‘however long my life may be, I cannot imagine one second of it without you. I do not want to imagine it without you. You are my all, do you understand? You are my purpose and my rationale – whenever I think of the times before you it is as though I am staring into the darkness.’

  My heart seemed to climb up through my ribcage, trying to get even closer to his touch and I knew he could feel it, his fingers were cupped under my chin, trailing against my jugular. ‘I … don’t know.’ I stammered, but I did. I knew from the cool strength of his body against me, from the warm flicker of his eyes as they drilled into mine, as though the secret of the universe was printed on my pupils. The way he held me, half in supplication and half in protection, the utter, pounding presence of him. My blood raced itself to a standstill.

  ‘Love.’ He pushed me back half a step so that I could focus on his face. ‘I am talking about love. And it is no longer a word to justify actions, it is a true thing. For the first time in a century, since my wife … since Christie, since the children …’ Both hands moved to rest along my cheekbones, holding me so I couldn’t look away. ‘I have found my purpose. The reason I have this demon; my strength, my speed, it is all so I may better care for you.’

  My inner cynic, the one that sat on my shoulder whenever I had to deal with the sheer splendour of vampires and whispered in my ear that they were only out for what they could get; the thing that protected me from their glamour and poked holes in their film-star sexiness, muttered, Yeah, right, but it was almost inaudible. Everything else inside me had hung out the bunting, put on the party music and was blowing vuvuzelas and whooping. ‘I am capable of taking care of myself, actually,’ I said, but my grin was growing as I said it. ‘But thanks for the thought.’

  He was grinning back. ‘I know. It doesn’t stop me from wanting to assist you though.’ Then the grin fell away and he moved to hold me as though we were about to step into a rumba. His lips brushed my ear. ‘You hold my entire long life in your hands, and my demon heart beats with yours. Without you, the thought of eternity is unbearable; I wish to fight with you, to love with you and to be by your side whenever the end may come.’

  That cynical voice vanished.

  When it returned, it was too late to have any input at all. I was wrapped in Sil’s arms, my head on his chest, in a lazy blur of emotion. ‘Wow,’ was all I could say.

  ‘Wow, indeed. This may not have been the time or the place, and yet …’

  He made love to me. Every action weighted with emotion, with an unspoken commitment and the kind of gentle promise of more to come. And I responded in kind, with a degree of feeling that almost frightened me. ‘Love,’ I whispered. ‘So this is what it really feels like.’

  ‘Generally it does not have quite so many cats associated with it.’ Sil nodded his head at the audience of baffled felines ranged along the back of the sofa, various sizes and colours making it look as though we were being ogled by a patchwork quilt. ‘But, whatever works.’

  ‘Talking of work …’

  He sat up. ‘Yes, I know. Back to the office.’

  ‘I have to.’

  ‘But it is different now. Now I know you are … what are you doing?’

  From my position, sprawled on top of him on the living room floor, I had seen something strange. ‘Just help me move the rug, will you?’

  ‘As post-copulatory activities go, I usually prefer to read, or possibly eat something. Not rearrange the furniture.’ But he helped me to pull the heavy mat aside.

  Our … ahem … somewhat vigorous activity had rumpled it and I’d seen a corner of stationery poking out. It was an envelope and, lying underneath it,
a crumpled sheet of headed paper. ‘What is it?’

  I scanned the words and felt my heated skin chill. ‘Sil …’ His demon rose, feeding off my panic. I could sense it in the speed of his movement as he took the letter from my numbing fingers. I closed my eyes.

  He read the letter. Folded it carefully, meticulously, into a perfect square and placed it on the floor between us. Raised his eyes to mine and, very gently, laid his hand on my cheek. There were no words. Nothing either of us could say.

  Chapter Thirty

  Liam stared as I came in. ‘You were gone a long time. And your shirt is inside out, by the way, so don’t try telling me you had to go to the bank. Unless the manager has got really strict about your overdraft.’

  I held out the perfectly folded piece of paper. ‘We found this. In the house.’

  Something in my expression or my tone made him straighten. ‘Jess?’

  ‘Just read it.’

  He read it. Aloud, which didn’t help my already frayed nerves.

  ‘“Government Department of Human/Otherworld Affairs” – swish headed paper, this. D’you know, I think they’ve even got embossing … must be serious.

  ‘Dear Mr Grant,

  ‘We, at the Department, have been advised that, some thirty years ago, you were in contact with a woman named Rune Atrasia. Our records show that she was deceased in 2008; however, there is some confusion regarding her life prior to that date.

  ‘To clarify. Rune Atrasia was a member of a Government Department, which she left under somewhat unpleasant circumstances in 1979. The Department lost contact with her around that time and now wish to establish details of her whereabouts and arrangements between this date and her decease – to whit, whether she formed any relationships and whether she gave birth to any children who may still be living.

  ‘Our information shows that in 1980 Miss Atrasia entered a programme to assist young women living on the streets during the Troubles, and that both you and your wife were connected with this scheme whilst you lived in Exeter. Therefore we feel you may be well placed to have knowledge of her life up to, and possibly beyond, this time. Any information you can give us regarding her known associates will be treated in the strictest confidence and will be subject to an Order of Government Dissemination.

  ‘“Yours,” – something illegible which certainly doesn’t look like the James Doyle that’s typed underneath it – “Under Secretary for the Department.”’

  ‘Jessie?’

  ‘I think it’s what caused my father’s heart attack. He wasn’t having a fit when my mother found him: he was trying to hide this. I found it shoved under the rug.’ I took a deep breath. ‘I think they’re looking for me.’

  Liam cupped his hands over his face. ‘But they don’t know. It sounds more like they’re fishing for information, and your parents have always told everyone that you’re theirs, haven’t they?’

  ‘But what if Malfaire told someone? What if it got out on that side? And’—I gestured towards his tablet, propped up on the desk and still playing the recording we’d made of Sil—‘what about this? Where does it all fit in?’

  Liam lowered his head to his folded arms. ‘Shit,’ he said, muffled.

  I swivelled my chair from side to side, using the motion to burn off some of the bitterness that churned through my stomach. ‘Sil went to London looking for my mother’s records.’

  ‘Sweet, really.’ Liam’s chin came up so that he could look at me. ‘Sounds like he wanted to find her birth certificate. Maybe he wanted to trace your family, draw you up a family tree or something? Perhaps you’ve got relatives still alive? On your mother’s side, obviously, any rellies that your dad might have left alive aren’t exactly going to be the type you invite over for Christmas, are they? Unless you have, like, really demonic Christmases, with blackened-soul pudding and roast eyeballs and stuff.’

  ‘You have clearly never eaten my mother’s sprouts.’ I carried on spinning. ‘Eyeballs would be an improvement.’ I stared at the tablet. ‘So. Sil went to the records office to trace my mother, he found the book she should have been in, and the birth certificate wasn’t there, yes?’

  ‘Yes, oh queen of the recap.’

  ‘I’m trying to get it straight in my head. But, there’s loads of reasons that the certificate wouldn’t be there. I mean, she was born during the Troubles – maybe she didn’t get registered?’

  Liam shook his head. ‘Not possible. Births were monitored, had to be. Humans needed accurate accounts of the numbers in case … well, they just did, and you couldn’t get aid or housing or pretty much anything without the official paperwork.’ He stared hard at me and I realised I was frowning. ‘I’ve got a degree in modern history. You did read my CV, didn’t you?’

  ‘There was a page from Colour In Pirates, I thought that was it.’

  ‘Very funny. But the chances of a birth going unregistered … well, that opens a whole can of worms that I’m not sure I want to have to shovel back in.’ His stare hardened. ‘You are understanding the implications here, aren’t you?’

  ‘Um.’

  ‘It was a legal requirement – well, still is, that all births in a district be recorded, and those records be duplicated in a central location, in London. In case of enemy destruction of one or other location, you see.’

  ‘Coffee. Now.’

  ‘In a minute. This is the first chance I’ve had to use my degree since I wore the silly hat, and I am bloody well going to go on a bit. Besides, it looks like it might actually be useful for once, and some of those essays took days to write, so you are going to shut up and listen. Unless you’re about to fire me for what I just said, in which case I apologise deeply and will go and get the mugs.’

  ‘No.’ I sighed. ‘You’re right. I am going to regret saying this but, do go on, Liam. Just, you know, not for too long or anything. I’ve got a healthy bladder and I’d like to keep it that way.’

  ‘So the fact that there is no record of your mother is odd.’

  ‘Could her record have been lost?’

  Liam moved his head thoughtfully. ‘There was an Otherworld movement to try to destabilise the human government by creating disorder …’ He glanced around the office. ‘You’re not working for them, are you?’

  ‘I’m going to stop listening—’

  ‘But it never really succeeded. Humans are too good at paperwork. Well’—another quick glance around—‘some of us are. Besides, Sil said something about “numbers” being right. All birth certificates are numbered; I’m presuming he meant that the numbers were consecutive, so that rules out a certificate being torn out or mislaid.’

  I kept swivelling. Motion made it easier to think. ‘Possibilities, then? One, she wasn’t human, in which case her records would be somewhere else …’

  ‘But remember when they did the blood test on Malfaire, to try to find out what kind of creature he was? We used your blood as the control, and it showed you as half-human. So we know that much.’

  ‘Two, then, she wasn’t registered. And that’s the scary one.’

  Liam just made a motion with his head, like a half-nod. ‘She “left the programme” in 1979. When she would have been … how old?’

  ‘I was born in 1981, when she was seventeen, I think Mum said. So, fifteen. Unlikely she’d have been employed that young; she should still have been in school.’ I stopped the chair’s rotation. ‘What the hell kind of programme was it? And then Sil finds out that there was no record of my mother and, suddenly and amazingly coincidentally, he gets shot and put somewhere until he was starving.’

  ‘And let out near a crowded shopping street when he must have been so hungry that his demon just took over.’ Liam pulled a face. ‘Woah. Like I said, can of worms.’

  I found that I was swallowing hard and continuously, almost as though something was risin
g in my throat. Sil. Trying to surprise me, to give me the gift of knowledge, something, anything about my birth mother and now having to hide in fear of his life. He could die and it wasn’t his fault … ‘We need to talk to Zan. Once he knows that it wasn’t Sil going off the rails …’ To my surprise, Liam bent forwards with his hands on his knees, almost as though he was trying to stop himself from fainting. He blew a series of long, deep breaths. ‘You’re not about to give birth, are you?’

  ‘I’m thinking. This is my “thinking” pose. Also my “not shrieking like a girlie” pose and my “oh God, help help help” pose. You might want to adopt it too.’

  ‘Why?’

  He straightened up. ‘I know it’s Sil, and I know how much he means to you. But where the hell is your paranoia? Because, just for once, I think it might come in useful.’

  I stared at him. Various thoughts were dashing through my mind like a sprint final, in first place was, It wasn’t Sil’s fault. We can tell everyone what happened and Zan can let him off … followed by, He loves me enough to try to find my mother’s family. Trailing in a dim, distant third was, So what really happened in the Records Office? ‘Paranoia?’

  ‘We need to keep quiet! Sil wasn’t drugged just so that they could move him somewhere – they could have just tranqued him … Somebody has tried very hard to make sure he wouldn’t remember what he went there for – they couldn’t know that you’d make a frankly quite fantastical leap of logic and try using your blood. And whoever it was knew that killing him, having him disappear completely, would throw up more questions, so they starved him and then let him out among humans so that he would condemn himself to death. Just a heads-up, this is where an “oh God, help help help” pose comes in useful.’

  I stood up and yanked my jacket down from its peg. ‘I need to get out on the streets.’