Forsaken (32 page)

Shocked, she stared at Levi. “How can you say that? About your own brother?”

“Don't you think it's killing me to do so?”

And she knew it was. “I will not let you harm Jacob. Just let him go, Levi.”

“Not if he's going to harm others. How could I live with myself then? I have to make a stand and end it once and for all. Don't you see I can't protect you both? Not anymore. It's you or Jacob, and since he's no longer really Jacob, then the choice is easy.”

“It is not a choice for you to make.”

Rachel lay down on the bed, carefully, gently, fearfully, and lifted her feet onto a pillow, all the while breathing in and out, slow and steady. Her hand rested on her lower belly. Not much had changed yet, not much rounding with the baby, as it was still early yet. She'd only skipped one of her times of the month.

She felt no pain, which she figured was a good sign. Yes, of course, nothing unusual, except the gas bubbles she'd been experiencing for the past few days. She should go to sleep and in the morning it would all be better. But that small amount of blood frightened her. That's all she'd seen in her underpants, just a smear. Could she have been wrong about being pregnant? But Mamm had agreed with her, assessing her symptoms and confirming she was indeed expecting. She closed her eyes and prayed for her unborn child, her lips barely moving, but tears dampened her lashes and trailed down her cheeks, pooling along her neck.

Time seemed to pass slowly or quickly; she wasn't sure which. She lost count of how many breaths she drew in and out until the back door opened. The small cottage they shared was attached to the back of Josef's parents house, where his grandparents had lived. Hearing Josef usually gave her heart a happy jolt as she anticipated the evenings when their chores were finished and they changed into their night clothes and snuggled under the blankets, his hands eager, his body warm, hers responding.

But her heart reacted with uncertainty. What would she tell her husband? Should she share her fears? How could he help her? Would he be disappointed? Anxious? Would he blame her?

The pop and whoosh heralded the pale yellow glow from the gas lamp in the kitchen as he rummaged around for something to eat. He'd stayed in the barn later than usual, tending a horse with the colic. She should get up and greet him, but a still, quiet voice whispered in her heart to stay put.
Rest. Relax. Pray.

“Rachel?” Josef called to her. He came to a halt in the doorway, his shoulders filling up the space as he stood there a moment while his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room. “Rachel.” His tone was gentle, unsure.

“I'm here.”

“Are you all right?”

“Yes.” Her voice dipped lower than normal in an attempt to fight back tears. She squeezed her eyes closed. If she looked at him, if she looked into those concerned blue eyes, she would shake apart. Her hands clutched each other in an effort to suppress the fear pulsing through her.

His boots clomped against the wooden floor, creating a hollow sound, and then she felt his weight dipping into the edge of the bed. His leg pressed against her arm. It was not until that moment she felt the chill in the room and scooted closer to his warmth. He covered her hands with his larger one. “Are you sick?”

“Just awful tired.” She had been tired a lot lately, but Mamm had said that was normal while carrying a babe.

“It's the baby,
ja
?”

She opened her eyes, raising her gaze to meet his, and his features changed, wavered as tears filled her eyes again.

His hand tightened on hers. With his other, he wiped away the tears wetting her cheeks. “What is it, Rachel? What is wrong?”

“I should rest.” She patted his hand and prayed harder. “That is all.”

“Are you unhappy then?”

She shook her head, biting her lip to still the trembling. “I've never been happier.”

He studied her for a moment. “Should I get your mamm then? Would she be a comfort to you?”

Mamm.
Yes. She would know if the baby was in trouble. She would advise her what to do. And if she said to go to an
English
doctor then she would without question. She would. Whatever it took. “Yes. That would be awful good.”

He nodded, traced the curve of her cheek. “I will be back shortly. You will be all right,
ja
?”

“I will be fine.”

He stood, hesitating, then bent back down and pressed his lips to hers. His beard was filling out and growing, showing he was now a married man. The kiss warmed her and she lifted her arms around his neck, pulled him back toward her. But he braced a hand against the bed and pulled back. “I will be back quick. No dancing till then.”

She laughed at his attempt at humor, and the tension in the room scattered, banished to the corners by hope, faith, and love.

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank!

Here we will sit, and let the sound of music

Creep in our ears: soft stillness, and the night,

Become the touches of sweet harmony.

Akiva sat on the bank of the creek and listened to the burbling water moving over the smooth rocks, which somehow reminded him of Shakespeare and the musical quality of his words. The moon's hazy light made the fog shimmer and distort the trees into giants with arms stretched out wide, as if offering up prayers to the stars. His prayer had been to be with Hannah again…forever, and he was so close to that reality that he could taste the sweetness of the moment.

He stretched out his mind and called to her.
Hannah. Come to me.

Rising, he began the walk toward the cemetery where he knew she would meet him. She would decide tonight. He sensed it the same way he could smell the thick flow of blood. He needed no light, as his eyes were those of a predator's, sharper in the dark than in the light. Fleeing from his approaching footsteps, rabbits and tiny critters moved through the dry grass under brush or into holes.

He imagined Hannah lifting her arms to him, tilting her neck to give him free access, and that first sweet taste of warm, pulsing blood. He had to be careful, he had to draw the life from her slowly, leaving only enough to keep her heart beating, and then he would offer her a taste of forever. Which meant he needed to feed first, to have a sacrifice ready for her, so she could draw life from it and feel the surge of power, the strength forming deep within her, the change overtaking her.

It would come quickly, this strength. Her eyes would darken, maybe even widen with surprise at the rush. And it was a rush, better than any drug he'd ever taken. Then they would be together. Forever.

From far away, he heard the clippity-clop of horse's hooves on the pavement. Akiva went very still. The metallic sound of horseshoes against blacktop came closer; the jingle of the halter sounds were loud in the stillness beneath the solid moon. Someone was out late, probably some young man courting his love. The steady rhythm of the hoof beats echoed through the cold night air as fog floated above the ground, curling about his ankles. The clip-clop, clip-clop began to recede, and Akiva veered toward the sound, an answer to his need for curbing his appetite. He would feast only enough to render his prey helpless and then he'd give Hannah the rest for her first meal.

Taking his place in the middle of the road, he waited and watched for the yellow lantern light on the buggy. It grew larger as it approached, the horse's hooves striking the pavement louder too, then the clippity-clops slowed. “Whoa.”

Akiva stood still, not approaching. Not yet. Patience was as much a part of the hunt as the chase.

“Hello?” came the voice from the buggy. A male voice.

Making his voice panicked and weak, Akiva called back. “Can you help?”

“
Ja
, sure. Let me pull off the road.” A click of a tongue and slap of reins encouraged the horse to the side of the roadway.

Akiva moved forward then, and the horse began bobbing its head.

“Easy,” the man in the buggy said. He swung down from his seat. “Did you have a car wreck or car trouble?”

“Something like that,” Akiva answered.

“It was an accident,” a feminine voice came out of the dark, and then Camille stepped into the circle of golden lantern light.

A cold sense of dread washed over Akiva. What did she want? To ruin his plans? To destroy his future?

Her eyes glowed darkly, and her long black hair hung about her shoulders like a mini cape. She was dressed for New Orleans' weather, not Pennsylvania cold, but of course Akiva knew the biting chill disturbed her as little as it did him. But he could see the Amish man giving her an odd look, as if he considered her a foolish
Englisher
.

“We were just driving along and the car died.” Camille gestured behind her toward the Miller Cemetery, then walked toward Akiva, her mouth pulling sideways in a confident smile. “I can't imagine what could be wrong with it.”

“I don't know anything about car engines,” the Amish man said, “but I was headed toward my wife's parents' house. Their neighbors are Mennonite and have a phone. You could call someone from there.”

“Oh, how perfect. I'm Camille. And you are?”

“Josef. Josef Nussbaum.”

Camille slipped her arm through Akiva's and she snuggled against him, smiling up at him. “Isn't Josef just the nicest to help us out this way? That's what I've written my friends about Promise. We've discovered just the nicest folks here. Haven't we,
ma cherie
?”

A low guttural growl emanated from Akiva's throat, an instinctive response to her encroachment. “What are you doing here?”

Camille touched his chest. “Helping you.”

Why did he doubt that?

The Amish man took a step back, bumping into the horse, which snorted.

Camille snapped her attention toward him, dipped her chin low and cooed. “Where do you think you're going?”

The wind howled through the trees, a lonely, forlorn sound that caused a shiver down Hannah's spine. The long branches of a willow whipped and waved, and leaves fluttered to the ground, skittering and twirling in utter surrender to the elements. Hannah's hands and limbs trembled, but not from the cold. Fear shook her from the inside out.

After Levi left to return to the barn, she'd entered her father's house but had not gone to her bedroom. She'd crept to the other side of the house, lifted the side window in the sitting room where she wouldn't be seen by Levi or Roc, and left the house, her family, and Levi behind.

Only she could end this. Only she could make Akiva understand.

Where was he? How could she find Jacob? Or Akiva? Or could she? Was it even possible? All the times she'd spent with Akiva had been when he sought her out, found her, came to her. On the road. In the barn. The cemetery. He always found her somehow, as if he had an ability to see where she was. She had no idea where he stayed, slept, or spent his time. Maybe she should have asked those questions. So many maybes led her backwards instead of forwards, and she was ready to move ahead now and leave the past in the past. Shouting for him would do no good. But in her mind, she called out to him. “
Jacob! Akiva? Come to me. Please.
”

But there was no response. On the road only her footsteps were accompaniment to the steady swish of the wind and beat of her heart, where she should have heard his voice, felt his presence, but now she sensed only a vacancy.

Her flashlight wove back and forth and jiggled ahead of her as she followed the asphalt that led to the cemetery. When she arrived among the silent stones, she climbed the fence and traversed the uneven ground, moving through rows of graves to the one place she hoped Akiva would come.

But a noise stopped her, and she strained her ears. The snuffling, burrowing sound came from up ahead. She swept the light over the tops of the leaning granite stones, and it slid past a large lump. She jerked the light back until the round glow illuminated a dark shaped object. Fear welled up within her. What was it? Should she have brought Levi? Even Roc? What if there was a wounded deer? Or some other wild animal? After all, it was hunting season.

But then the dark mass shifted, turned, and a pale face with dark, glinting eyes turned and stared at her. Those eyes fixated on her, bore into her.

Jacob
.

No, not Jacob.

Akiva
.

She took three steps toward him, relief pulsing through her, until she heard a growl rumbling from deep in his throat. His mouth was wet and gleaming. Behind him, something twitched and moved. A leg. But not a spindly deer's leg. This was a man's leg, covered in dark cloth, the shoe plain and tilted far to the side. Once more, she stopped, her legs suddenly wooden. Her heart lurched in her chest.

Akiva rose from his position on the ground, his shoulders hunched slightly until he straightened fully. His movements were slow and sure as he took one step and then another in her direction. His path, however, was not straight but curving outward, as if to come at her from a different angle or to turn her from the sight of the man lying on the ground. Was he hurt? Wounded? Dead?

Akiva licked his lips and swiped his arm over the lower portion of his face, smearing what she now saw was blood.

A trembling took hold of her and shook her from the inside out until she thought she would fall to the ground, unable to stand. “What are you doing here?” Her voice sounded distant, odd, as if it was not really her speaking. She gestured toward the man. “What's wrong with him?”

“You wanted me here, didn't you? You called to me.”

So he had heard her.

“Yes, but…This is…” Her voice faltered, trembled, and the words wouldn't come, and she took a step back. “Should I get help?”

“No.” His voice was firm, commanding.

Her gaze shifted toward the man, and the leg twitched again, kicked out in a weak impotent way. “What are you doing?”

“This is how I survive.” He emphasized the last word.

“But it's—”

“Is killing a cow so different? Or a pig or goat? You must eat too.” He took another step closer.

“This is a man…a person…someone's…” She stared as the man struggled to sit up. The flashlight struck him in the face but he was too dazed to even flinch, and she almost dropped it.
Josef.
A gash in his neck bloodied his white shirt, which matched the paleness of his face. “…someone's husband…father.”

Jacob cut her off, angled her away from Josef. “You don't want
me
to die, do you, Hannah?”

She shook her head.

“You prayed for whatever it would take to bring me back. Well this is what it took. Your prayer has been answered. Now are you going to reject the very thing that gives me strength? That gives us the ability to be together?” He walked past her, turning her toward him, like the moon trailing the earth. “There is power in the blood. Power that I need.” He came to a stop and stared down at her, moonlight flooding one side of his face and slanting shadows across the other side, revealing distortions in his features, in his soul. “And I know the secret of that power.”

“Secret?”

“It will give
us
, you and me, a life together.
Forever
. Isn't that what you want too, Hannah? Isn't that what you have prayed for? Yearned for?”

Fear trapped her in its steely jaws and held her frozen in this place when all she wanted was to run.
Run for help for Josef. Run for Levi.
“What have you become?”

“A vampire.” His tone was as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. “It is not some crazy notion in fantasy novels or the movies, Hannah. It's real. I'm real. The old, old stories and myths are true.” He leaned toward her, his voice only a whisper. “Everyone has always wanted to find the fountain of youth. Well, I have. It pumps within each human.”

She took a step backward, her head still shaking, her body trembling, but he stayed her retreat with a hand on her arm, a solid band of resistance. “This isn't right, Jacob…Akiva.” Her voice cracked on the name. “I don't even know what to call you anymore.”

He bracketed her arms, and she felt the strength in his hands rattle her bones. It was useless to run, fight, or attempt escape. Would he hurt her? Jacob would not have. But this truly was no longer Jacob. Her Jacob was dead. Now, this Akiva lived.

“Where am I?” Josef spoke behind her, his voice weak as a mewling kitten. “Rachel?”

Hannah tried to turn but Akiva held her firmly. “It's okay, Josef. I will help you.”

Akiva laughed. “Will you now? Or will you help yourself to him so that you can really live? This is how we can live together, Hannah. Forever. Just imagine. We can go anywhere. We can be together, as you and I have always dreamed.”

She stared into Akiva's black eyes. “You must let him go. It's Rachel's husband. You know Rachel! She needs Josef. They're going to have a baby. Please…Jacob, for me….”

“It is
for
you, sweet Hannah.” One hand held her upper arm, but the other snaked up over her shoulder and cupped the side of her neck. “
He
is for you.” His gaze shifted downward, studied her neck, and his lips parted. “This will not be difficult. Trust me. Soon, you will feel the strength of a thousand.” He took in a deep breath, his nostrils flaring. “You will see as you never have before. You will feel so much more.” His thumb slid along the length of her windpipe, caressing or threatening she wasn't sure. “It is all for us.”