Stolen Night (18 page)

‘Lenah,’ Justin said. I jumped and turned. He stood alone before me, wiping sweat from his forehead. The definition of his biceps kept my attention.

‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Didn’t mean to scare you.’

‘You didn’t,’ I lied.

‘You’re beautiful.’ Justin smiled at me again. ‘Have I mentioned that?’

‘Oh,’ I didn’t know what to say. ‘Well, no,’ I said, my cheeks suddenly hot. A thrill rushed to my stomach. I looked back over to Quartz and examined the darkened
shadow made by the building. Rhode was gone. To my surprise, I was glad Justin and I were alone.

‘That was an . . . interesting scrimmage,’ I said, looking into Justin’s eyes, not entirely sure what to say next.

‘You liked that?’

I flinched, not understanding what he meant.

‘Liked what?’ I asked.

Justin held his shoulders back and casually licked the sweat from his lips. He smirked at me, raising an eyebrow. ‘Lenah, come on. You like me.’

He took a step closer, so close that I could smell the sunblock and sweat on his skin. I did like him. It was no act. His mannerisms were so thoroughly twenty-first century. Even the casual
flick of his head to rid himself of the sweat rolling down his face was a gesture that would have been alien to Rhode. Gentlemen of past eras would wipe their brows with a handkerchief.
Justin’s movements were quick, abbreviated. This world was one of instant messages, instant communication and interaction. People spoke to one another with a casual cadence and clipped
colloquial words. Even though I had been born in the medieval era, I had come back to life in the twenty-first century. Justin’s world was my world now.

‘You know how I feel about you,’ he said softly before I could think any more. The way he spoke sent a shiver down my spine. Tiny beads of sweat lined his upper lip. He glowed and
always would to me. He emanated a life force which I had loved when I was first human and even now I wanted a piece of it.

He lifted his hand, running his fingers lightly across the cut on my collarbone. It made me tremble.

‘Your bandage came off,’ he said.

‘You may have to re-dress it,’ I said, with sudden heat to my cheeks.

‘I will.’ He took a step closer, his expression suddenly serious. ‘Any more sightings of the blonde?’

I shook my head. No.

‘Enos!’ someone called from behind us.

Justin backed away, dropping his fingers. My skin cooled where the warmth of his touch had been. Suddenly he stopped walking backwards and gestured by lifting his helmet towards me.

‘Hey! I almost forgot,’ he said. ‘Happy birthday!’

My jaw dropped. It
was
6 September, wasn’t it?

‘Of course,’ I said. ‘It is my birthday, isn’t it?’

‘You forgot your own birthday?’ Justin asked, incredulous.

Ah, well, my soulmate of six hundred years is living here at school, but I can’t be with him because a supernatural force ordered us to stay apart. You’re beautiful in every way,
shape and form, but I probably blew my chances with you. My best friend, Tony, was murdered and my friend Vicken killed him.

‘A lot on my mind,’ I replied.

‘Well, I’m having a party tonight,’ said Justin. ‘I’ve asked the guys. Down at the camping ground. I tried to find you earlier to tell you.’

The moment in the listening room replayed in my mind. His arms travelling over my back and shoulders as we danced.

‘So does that smile say you’ll come?’ Justin asked.

Was I smiling? It seemed impossible after everything that had happened over the last two days.

‘Look – meet us at seven. Site 404. Lovers Bay camping ground. You can bring Vicken – you know, because we have to keep in twos. It’s a couple of miles up Main
Street,’ he said. ‘There’ll be a lot of us,’ he added before I could say no. ‘We couldn’t book it unless there were at least ten of us.’ Once he said that
a part of me, the foolish part, didn’t want to refuse, no matter how bad an idea I knew it was. Justin gathered up his kitbag, and when he threw it over his shoulder the pendant around his
neck caught the sunlight.

He turned away to join the rest of his team, walking towards the gymnasium. As I was about to turn away, he glanced back at me with a bright smile.

He always lured me in this way. He so easily commanded a room when he walked into it. Everyone wanted to see the tiny lines appear around his mouth when he smiled. The casual mess of his sandy
hair. I couldn’t help but want to go. I couldn’t help but want to be happy, even just for an evening.

As far as Ms Williams was concerned, as long as the campus was safe, it didn’t matter what happened off campus. This particular point enraged Vicken endlessly, who
thought off campus was definitely
not
safe.

Either way, I thought we should go to the party, and I wanted to. As long as we all signed out together, we could go. Odette had shown no sign of coming back yet. Presumably the fake ritual was
still occupying her, and I doubted she would make an appearance in front of so many people.

I guessed if Rhode knew I’d decided to go off campus without his supervision, he would have been furious.

That evening, I looked at my reflection in the mirror next to my bureau. My eyes seemed a darker blue than usual, as though I could not hide the anxiety brewing and churning inside me. I
smoothed down some flyaway strands of hair and then looked over at the photo of Rhode and me on the bureau. It was back in its rightful place after Tony stole it last year, trying to uncover the
history of my vampire life.

In the mirror I could see the scabbard that had held Rhode’s sword for the last two hundred years.

The sword was gone, the scabbard empty, as I expected it to be.

I got down on the floor and checked the herbs from the barrier spell, as I did every day since I had first performed the spell. If a barrier spell works, the herbs ignite, leaving nothing behind
of the intruder but charred ash. As long as whoever came into the room was accepted, the herbs were not dangerous.

I turned back to my reflection and started to put on a pair of gold ear studs I had bought in the early 1900s. They had been in my jewellery box, almost forgotten, but now that my mother’s
earrings were lost, gone in the Hathersage fire, I decided to wear the studs. I pushed one into my lobe.

An overwhelming stench of apples
exploded
in the room.

I slammed my hands against the wall and dropped forward, my body engulfed in the stink of apples. I grabbed at my gut because it twisted and turned. Fake apples. How could someone manufacture
such a beautiful smell and make it so ugly? So sickly sweet? Its force knocked me to the ground. I fell to my knees, the gold studs skidding across the wooden floor, and just when my palms hit the
ground . . .

‘She must be isolated so no one can find her.’

It is Suleen’s voice I hear first. I am in Rhode’s mind again.

Together, Suleen and Rhode stand by a tombstone in the cemetery directly next to my mansion in Hathersage. Four or five headstones are together in a small plot surrounded by a wrought-iron
fence.

There is my tombstone. No epitaph, no name. Just an L carved into the stone.

Rhode buried me in 1910 and uncovered me one hundred years later to perform the humanizing ritual. Based on Rhode’s appearance, he is the modern-day Rhode, the Rhode I saw when I first
awoke at Wickham Boarding School. He uncovered me in secret, without the coven’s knowledge, without Vicken’s knowledge. I recognize Suleen’s appearance from modern times as well.
He wears white and his traditional turban.

‘You are sure of this, Rhode,’ he asks. Rhode nods but Suleen’s expression is dark. Rhode turns, looking at himself in the reflection of a house window. In this memory,
Rhode’s marble-like eyes are colder than in his human self. It’s hard to believe I am now accustomed to his mortal face.

‘It’ll be easier this way. I don’t trust her coven. Have you noticed how strong they are? Vicken, Heath, Song and Gavin. They’re all hand-picked for their strength and
cunning. We need to do it while they are not here.’

‘That’s not what I mean. This ritual? Sacrificing yourself?’ Suleen asks. The sun is almost fully descended, a full moon above brightens the evening sky. ‘Your death
offers me no comfort, Rhode.’

‘This ritual is the only way for Lenah to live. The Hollow Ones will protect her. They’ll make sure nothing happens to Lenah after I am gone.’

‘The Hollow Ones will keep their end of the bargain only if you die. There is no telling what will happen if you survive. They cannot be trusted, Rhode.’

Rhode stares into the hills as the sunset washes them in gold.

‘What about her soul?’ he asks Suleen.

‘What about it?’

‘How do we know?’ Rhode’s eyes flick to Suleen’s and then back out to the field. ‘How do we know Lenah’s soul isn’t damaged. That as a human she
won’t fall back into her desire for power. Even I . . .’ He stops and considers what he is about to say. ‘She killed a child, Suleen.’

‘Do you question your forgiveness? It is key to the sacrifice,’ Suleen reminds him.

‘I question her human self. Can she love after being capable of such evil?’

‘I cannot answer this for you,’ Suleen says. He looks to the sky. ‘If you want to unearth her, you must do it now.’

‘Tell me, Suleen – can someone who has done such evil really come back? Her evil has surpassed that of any vampire I have ever seen.’

‘Now, Rhode! You must start before the sun fully descends.’

‘What if I can never forgive her?’

The truth finally comes out. He has not forgiven me for killing a child. For falling into madness as a vampire.

‘Now!’ Suleen yells.

Rhode lifts a shovel and stabs the earth.

‘
Stop him! Stop him!’ I screamed. Someone was holding my shoulders and trying to shake me awake. The hardwood of the floor cooled my back and I blinked.

‘Lenah! Hey. Lenah!’ Vicken was calling my name. I looked up at the ceiling. Vicken leaned over me so his shaggy hair fell into his eyes. He raised an eyebrow. ‘You fell asleep
on the floor. You have a couch, a lounge chair and a bed. But, hey – don’t let me criticize your choice of napping locale.’

I sat up, swallowing hard, and ran a hand through my hair. I sat there for a moment staring at the base of the bureau, gazing at its carved legs and intricate woodwork.

Vicken squatted down beside me. ‘Does this need immediate attention? Should I be calling someone to help you?’

‘I . . .’ I concentrated on the floor, following the grain in the wood. ‘I don’t know.’

It’s not that Rhode
couldn’t
love me any more, as he had said in the woods after visiting Tony’s grave. It was that, at one point, he didn’t
want
to.
Because I didn’t deserve it. Perhaps that’s why he didn’t come back last year. He didn’t want to return to someone with a heart like mine.

‘Who or what are the Hollow Ones?’ I asked.

Vicken frowned. ‘Hollow Ones?’ He shook his head. ‘Never heard of them.’

‘Help me stand,’ I said, and lifted a hand. Vicken’s warm fingers grasped mine and he pulled me up. I walked to the wall and leaned my back against it. Vicken stood looking at
me, his arms crossed over his chest. Rhode’s memory swirled in my mind.

‘I’m seeing Rhode’s thoughts,’ I said, and it came out in a rush. Vicken’s eyes narrowed. ‘I see his thoughts, sometimes his memories.’

Vicken dug in his pocket for a pack of cigarettes. He lit one, then said, ‘What do you mean? Thoughts . . .’

I slid to the floor and wrapped my arms around my knees. ‘I see him in my mind, but it’s as if
I’m
in
his
mind. I verified it. I dreamed that I saw him punch a
mirror. And then when I saw him in person there was fresh gauze wrapped around his injured fingers.’

‘Why on earth would he punch a mirror?’

‘He couldn’t stand to look at himself. So he punched it.’

Vicken shook his head. ‘Odd.’

I exhaled, looking out of the balcony door at the dark void. From above, the moon lit up the tiles and my vampire remains still sparkled. It felt good to tell someone the truth.

‘Why would I see his thoughts now? I’m completely mortal. I don’t have my ESP or my vampire sight. And it never happened at any other time in our history. When he left before .
. . before I met . . .’ I hesitated and chose my words carefully. ‘When I met you.’

Vicken thought it over for a moment, then shot up. ‘Remember that story Rhode used to tell?’ Vicken said. ‘The one about the vampire who loved the human girl. The one during
the Plague. The—’

‘Anam Cara?’ I said, remembering Rhode telling the story by firelight. I had forgotten the phrase until now.

‘Yes. The vampire had a deeper connection to her than any other. So much so that he could sense her thoughts, not just her intentions. He hid his vampirism from her, and when she got the
plague—’

‘He let her die,’ I said.

‘Yes!’ Vicken said, and went over to the trunk pushed against the wall below the iron candle holders. He sifted around inside.

‘Uncommon for vampires, who are inherently selfish,’ Vicken said, and the smoke from his cigarette wafted and hung over his head. He pulled out one of the few leather-bound books
Rhode had left me when I was first human:
A Book of Celtic Magic.
‘It would have been easy. Cure her – make her a vampire forever. Instead, he let her go to her death as she
should have. Not a pleasant death, but she got sick. And she died as humans do.’

I liked that story and I remembered it well. It reminded me of how I felt for Rhode. Except, he didn’t let me go . . .

Vicken opened the book.

‘Here it is – “Anam Cara. A soul-friend. When one finds one’s Anam Cara, the connection is undeniable. Unyielding. It is a white string of light connecting two souls
through space and time. Some believe the Anam Cara share a mind. A mind of a past so deep, so interconnected, that they can share thoughts.”’