Prophecy: Child of Light (20 page)

Grabbing her arm, he hauled her onto her feet and sat her down on the couch while he gathered their things. They needed to leave now. He had been foolish to waste time by letting her drink from him in the same place where he’d killed the dart she’d been shot with. The hunter would have used the homing device it was fitted with to track her here.

He threw everything back into the bag and zipped it shut before walking into the living area and putting it down on the table. He took his jacket and placed it on Prophecy, not listening to her weak protestations as he did so. When it was on, he grabbed the bag and put an arm about her waist to help her stand. He led her to the door and took one last look around the room to make sure they had everything.

Leading her down the corridor to the lift, he thought about what to do. They would check out and get as far away from here as possible without being spotted. They were going to need somewhere to hide, somewhere quiet and safe, and she needed more blood.

There was only one place he could think of.

A cemetery.

* * * *

V
alentine turned to face Prophecy when she began to lag behind. He pressed a hand to her forehead and frowned when he found she was burning up again. He was running out of time. Whatever poison the hunter had laced the dart with, it was powerful and he feared that if she didn’t feed soon it was going to consume her. He’d never seen a vampire as sick as she was. She was constantly shivering, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as she held his jacket closed. He picked her up, shutting down his own pain as she nestled close to him and aggravated his shoulder. He had to get her to safety. The sky was on the verge of lightening and there wasn’t a sign of shelter so far in the cemetery.

When he reached the small church in the centre, he placed her down by a narrow door. This side would remain in shadow for most of the day. She would be safe here and it would be quicker for him to find shelter without her slowing him down. He crouched and ran his fingers across her brow as she murmured.

“I shall not be long. You will be safe here.” He promised her and she curled up, holding her knees. She said things beneath her breath that he knew were directed at him. “We are running out of time. Stay here. The sun will not get you.”

He straightened up and took one last look at her before walking off around the other side of the building. He hadn’t got far when he sensed someone in the vicinity and turned to see a man dressed in dark clothing walking towards the spot where Prophecy sat. He moved swiftly, aiming at first to cut the man off before he reached her and then deciding to wait so he could see the man’s reaction.

He rounded the corner, looking at the man who was now bent over Prophecy and reaching a hand out to touch her. She growled and the man paused.

“Leave her be, preacher man, this is something that you do not want to see,” he said.

The clergyman looked at him. “She is hurt. She needs assistance. She must come into the church and we shall help her.”

“To help her is to sin.” Valentine took a step towards the man. “To look upon her, is to look upon the Devil himself.”

The man’s expression became one of confusion and Valentine knew it was no use telling him again not to look. The man’s eyes were already moving to Prophecy and all Valentine could do was wait.

Prophecy snarled at the clergyman, exposing her fangs by curling her top lip up.

The man stumbled backwards, his face blanched and his hands trembling as he stared at her.

“Wha... what... what is she?” The clergyman looked at him.

“We’re angels with broken wings.” Valentine grinned, snapped the man’s neck and caught his body before it hit the ground.

Grabbing the keys from the man’s belt, he carried him over to the small door and opened it. He placed the man down just inside and returned for Prophecy when he heard her whimpering outside. The sun was rising. He could feel it. He helped her up onto her feet and picked up the bag as he walked with her into the cold stone building, locking the door behind them.

He dropped the bag, put his arm about her waist and led her deeper into the church. It was small and bare. The altar was home to a single gold cross. He got the feeling that it wasn’t visited very often. He didn’t mind churches and the crosses that adorned them barely bothered him. They were handy places to hide since most demons hated them and most hunters never thought to check them, presuming that vampires hated them too.

Setting Prophecy down in a sheltered part of the building, he went back for the clergyman and the bag. She was muttering to herself again by the time he returned and her head snapped up when she smelled the man. Valentine let the man fall to the floor beside her and smiled when she pulled him to her and sank her teeth into his neck.

Watching her feed, Valentine wondered how many more sins they would commit before the Law Keepers caught up with them. Revealing the existence of vampires to humans was always a favourite of theirs, but this time wouldn’t count since they had killed and fed off the human. The law was really created for vampires like Mathias, who clearly harboured feelings for his female housekeeper. Some of the most well known trials by the Law Keepers had been about human/vampire relations.

He couldn’t see the attraction himself.

He stared at Prophecy. She was gorging herself on the clergyman, drinking so deeply that she looked as though she’d been starving for blood. How did she do that? How did she make him watch her like this? How did she make him want to watch her as though she was the most enthralling thing on earth?

Sitting down, he leaned back against one of the pillars, sighing to himself as he watched her.

She’d literally drained the clergyman dry when she dropped the body. His eyes followed the motion of her hands as she wiped the blood from her face, licking and sucking her fingers clean as she relished the last of it. He could feel the sun rising but it didn’t bother him. They were safe here. They had gone far enough into the outskirts of Paris to not be tracked by the hunter. The area was quiet, the church was locked and the clergyman was dead.

Valentine closed his eyes.

He frowned when he felt Prophecy close by. He opened one eye and watched her curling up next to him. Holding an arm out to one side, he let her nestle close to him so she would feel safe.

“You shall be fine by nightfall,” he assured her.

“The witches... power... a key... my blood... the hunter in the square... why don’t I fight? I’m sorry... sorry for everything... you’ve sacrificed...” She trailed off when her head came to rest heavily against his shoulder and he realised she’d fallen asleep.

“It will be worth it. I am certain of that,” he said and let his hand rest around her upper arm, holding her to him.

She winced.

He frowned again.

Peeling the jacket off her shoulder, he pulled her shirt to one side to reveal what should have been smooth white skin. It wasn’t. There on her shoulder was a black star, intricately patterned with symbols around it. It was red raw like a new tattoo. His fingers hovered over it and he was surprised when he could feel power in it. Moving his fingers downwards, he looked inside her shirt to find a similar mark over her heart. He let her shirt cover her again and stared at her. Something was going on here.

Prophecy was going to have to do some explaining tomorrow.

But for now, she could sleep.

His eyes remained fixed on her face. He could remember his first encounter with a hunter and what it was like to be so young. The world had been a frightening place and knowing that he was immortal only seemed to make him fear death even more. There was nothing to comfort him if he was killed. No Heaven awaited. There was only Hell. He wondered how scared she was. She’d barely been out in the world for a few days and so much had happened. She was strong though, and quick thinking by the looks of what had happened to her tonight. She must have run when the hunter attacked and that’s how she got a dart in her back.

He looked down at her hand when she shifted and something glinted. Whatever it was, she was clutching it tightly and when he placed his hand near it, he could feel the same power he’d felt in the marks on her body. What had the witches done to her? There was magic involved, his instincts were telling him that much.

But how was it possible?

Vampires had never been able to control magic; it never obeyed their commands. Centuries of research by vampires wishing to command it had turned up nothing. Every attempt to use it had failed. Even the elders didn’t have the power. But he felt magic in these marks, a power that went beyond anything he’d felt before.

No, not anything. The Three held such magic and he knew of another witch who commanded a power that was this strong.

But this felt different to hers.

He watched her face for a few moments longer as his eyelids began to grow heavy.

She had some explaining to do.

I
t was bright. The sun was setting over unfamiliar scenery, all of it pale and beautiful in the warm light. Row upon row of arched windows surrounded her and the sky was a vaulted ceiling above. She turned on the spot, completely unfazed by the daylight and feeling a strange sense of comfort. She watched the people as they zoomed past her, nothing more than blurs and jumbled words and laughter. She stopped when she saw someone in the distance. The world around her faded into black and white, but the woman in front of her remained in colour. The woman’s wild red hair was long and the rich green skirt of her dress flowed like reeds in the river as she moved in slow motion away from her.

Prophecy followed, wanting to see the woman’s face. She disappeared down the corridor and out into the narrow alley on the other side. Catching her should have been easy, but Prophecy was moving as slowly as the woman was. She felt as though she was running through deep mud or snow, unable to move faster as it hindered her. She just wanted to see the woman’s face.

There was something familiar about her.

She chased her down the street, trying to catch a glimpse of the woman’s features as she spun and turned in front of her. It was as though she was dancing rather than running. There was something joyful about her, wild and free, like a beautiful creature that had been released from a dark cell into the wilderness of the world.

Prophecy smiled too, running after the woman who was crossing over an arched wooden bridge. She could hear her footsteps on it and looked down to see slim dark boats passing underneath. The man who was pushing the boat with the pole didn’t see her. He just waved at another similar boat as it passed him. She looked around to see the woman was far ahead of her now.

Running down the other side of the bridge, everything around her began to blur until only the woman was in focus. Prophecy followed her, watching her spin and twirl while she continued to run. She still couldn’t see her face. Every time the woman turned, her hair shifted and hid it from view.

She stopped dead when the woman hopped up onto the low wall surrounding the long stone road they had been running along. There was nothing but water on the other side. Prophecy stretched out her hand to the woman but she turned and disappeared over the edge. Everything seemed to speed up and Prophecy ran as fast as she could to the wall the woman had fallen from.

Looking over the edge into the water, she found the woman, her face washed of colour but tinted with blue as she shimmered below the surface. Prophecy reached out her hand to her but the woman began to sink.

The woman’s mouth opened.

“Don’t be scared, child.”

Prophecy woke with a start. Her breathing coming fast and ragged, she shot into a sitting position and quickly took in her surroundings. Where was she? She recoiled in fear when her eyes fell to rest on the crucifix on the altar and she shuffled backwards into the corner. Her brows furrowed, her eyes darting about as she tried to locate Valentine.

A glance at the stained glass windows told her it was night. The candelabra above her cast a warm glow on the interior of the church. Others hung above the aisle, but the candles in them were unlit.

She jumped when a door near her creaked open and she instinctively changed, letting her demon guise come to the forefront. She hissed at the intruder.

It was Valentine.

She slipped out of vampire guise and frowned. “Where were you?”

“I was on the roof, watching for danger.” He closed the door and cocked his head to one side when he finally looked at her. “Is something wrong?”

She managed to sit up straight and rearranged her clothing so she didn’t look as dishevelled. Her fingers paused when she realised that she was wearing Valentine’s jacket and her head ached to recall the events of last night. Raising her eyes briefly to rest on him, she saw that he was waiting for her to answer his question. She stared at the floor, trying to remember what she’d seen and felt.

“I had a dream,” she said quietly, unsure of whether she wanted him to know about it or not. If she told him, he might be able to tell her which city it was that she’d seen.

He crouched down beside her and looked into her eyes. “Are you sure it wasn’t a vision? Dreams do not usually shake people up like this.”

“Maybe it was... it was strange. I can’t make sense of it.”

He sat down and smiled. “It is even harder when you are trying to make sense of someone else’s visions.”

She smiled. She couldn’t imagine what he’d made of the things he’d seen in her blood. She had seen nothing in his last night. She remembered drinking from him and could see the marks on his neck as he sat next to her. His blood was strong, rich, and the more she’d drunk, the more she’d craved it. She still craved it.

Dragging her eyes away from his neck, she fixed them on the floor, tracing the cracks in the cold flagstones while she tried to remember her dream.

“I saw a city. There was a big square with a tower that seemed to reach to Heaven itself. There were a lot of people but one stood out amongst them. She was colourful when everything was dark and grey. I followed her down narrow streets with no names and when we crossed over a bridge, I saw a white church and boats that had no rowers.”