“She wanted to prove to you what she is?”
“Yes.”
“Where is she now?”
“I don’t know.” Jacob’s voice almost broke. “Do you drink blood?”
I avoided his gaze.
His eyes widened. “Have you murdered?”
I picked up a lit candle and approached the bookcase, then yanked at an obscured handle and the shelves swung open, revealing a doorway.
“Where does that lead?” he asked.
“Like to find out?”
“You don’t expect me to go in there?”
I headed on through, paused for a moment, and waited for him to join me.
Jacob sighed deeply, and then took his first step into my world.
* * * *
Jacob leaned back against the door with his hands wrapped around his legs, while I rested atop the long, black coffin.
Jacob’s pupils adjusted to the dark. The fluorescent glare of mine spooked him for a moment, but then he settled. The candlelight helped.
My philosophy had come up short. I refused to accept my lot in the great scheme of things, but rather to strive for a glorious life, to be authentic, true to myself and learn to live with the consequences. But now my relationship with Jacob felt threatened.
Having not fed, the slight shake in my hands increased, though my appetite had dulled. Within the small chamber, the drama of a troubled past unfolded, evolving over decades, a fantastical story that stirred the same emotions as it left my lips.
Jacob listened.
Yet again breaking my own rule, I trespassed into his thoughts, needing reassurance that this would not be the last time I’d see him. Jacob’s flushed face and fresh tears caused frequent pauses in my dark monologue, but his insistence for me to continue forced me to do so.
As I recounted my past, it revealed a new perspective and other possibilities arose, highlighting better choices that could have been made. Decisions of my youth were just that. I fought off the regret. Years ago, I’d mourned briefly and then moved on, hoping that my future would make up for the past. Taking full responsibility for what I’d become, it had been easier to accept. Trying to explain this to my fresh-faced son, who stared up, riveted, offered a new challenge. I gauged Jacob’s reaction.
He wiped away another tear. “If there’s a way back for you, I’ll find it.”
I allowed him solace in believing that.
Jacob stood up. “So light is your enemy?”
I subtly checked, watching for any sign that would indicate he’d test the theory and inadvertently put me at risk.
Jacob’s hand brushed over the door and then he pointed to the coffin. “What’s it like sleeping in that?”
“You get used to it.”
“How have you not been driven mad?”
“Does the mad man know that he’s even mad?”
Jacob squinted. “All those times I thought you were working and you were actually asleep.”
And while you slept . . .
“Your whole life is a lie,” he muttered.
“Smoke and mirrors, that’s all.”
“This is how you justify what you do?”
“You’re not my judge.”
“But God is.”
“I could be pedantic and say that God stood by and watched this being done to me.”
“He doesn’t interfere.”
“How convenient.”
“Do you not fear hell?”
“You and Marcus can have this discussion,” I said. “It bores me.”
“But what of your soul?”
I sighed. “What of it?”
Anxiety in his expression, his mind surely raced. “Are you damned?”
“Perhaps.”
“Aren’t you frightened of dying?”
“No more than you.”
“But are you not excluded from heaven?”
“Me and half of London, if you believe what you read.”
“You’re destined to walk the earth for eternity?”
His words echoed. Not for the first time had I considered the idea—immortalized in this body, being more than I’d been as a mere man, with God-like abilities.
“I will find a cure for you.” He broke the silence.
My fingers traced my jaw line. I was deep in thought.
“What did it feel like when you actually changed into this?”
Death’s drag . . . “I lost all sense of time and place and then blacked out. When I reopened my eyes, it felt as though I’d awoken from the deepest sleep.” Sunaria’s voice luring me, the thrill of her blood surging through mine, reanimating every nerve, sinew, muscle, and bone . . . “When my eyes took in the world again, shapes were more distinctive and colors vibrant. Your senses are so sharp, it takes a while to adjust to the sensory overload.”
“Is there pain?” Jacob’s voice seemed far off.
A difficult question to answer, having been impaled by a child’s sword, the agony of that bled into what followed. I shrugged.
“And now what does it feel like?” Jacob asked.
The ability to feel pleasure so intense that you lose yourself.
So acclimated to my new physicality, I tried to compare it. “We move with great agility.”
“But what does it actually feel like?”
I turned over my hands, studying them. “As though you’ve taken on a new body, one that is made out of something other than flesh, and yet it passes for it.”
“When you died, what did you see?” he asked.
“A blinding white light. A beautiful angel beckoned.”
“Really?”
“No. Just blackness. Nothing. An awful feeling of being awoken from the deepest sleep, and then being dragged backwards over hot coals.”
Jacob was riveted.
“Then the agony subsides into euphoria.” I sighed. “I suppose it’s what entices you to come back into your body.”
The candle flickered.
“What other benefits are there?” He glanced at the fading flame.
“My ability to detect the slightest sound.”
“You can read minds?”
“Rachel told you that?”
He nodded. “Do you read mine?”
“I try not to.”
“But you can. I mean right now you can hear every thought?”
“Yes.”
“Bloody hell.”
“It’s not what it’s cracked up to be,” I said.
“How do you mean?”
“The chatter’s overwhelming. And when someone thinks a bad thought about you, it feels shitty.”
“But you get used to it?”
“You get to control it.”
Jacob removed his jacket. “What did you think I’d say when I learned the truth?”
“That you hated me.”
“You underestimate me.”
“Actually, I don’t.”
“The drawbacks, what are those?”
“Well, you’ve seen one, no reflection.”
“That explains your hair.”
I ran my fingers through my dark locks.
“Just joking,” Jacob said.
I gave a wry smile.
“Actually, I’m always impressed with how dapper you look.” He almost smiled.
“Can’t say the same for you.” I winked.
“Ouch.”
“My tailor can remedy that.”
“Thanks, I think.”
I gestured to the door. “No sunsets.”
“That explains your artwork.”
“Dining takes on a whole new meaning.”
“You can’t eat at all?”
I shook my head no.
“What else?” he pushed.
“I can seduce anyone.”
“Is that how you trap them?”
I sensed where this was going and didn’t like it.
“You have to kill to survive?” he asked.
“The alternative is to take just a sip. But it results in several victims instead of one.”
“What if they see you again?”
“It doesn’t work like that.”
“What do you mean?”
“We return the favor with providing a taste of us.”
“How do you persuade them?”
“Eyes closed.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know. One sip and their arousal is their reward. Then they forget everything.”
“Are you suggesting that, for us, your blood is some kind of elixir?”
I stared down at my shoes.
“You’re talking of an erotic experience?” Jacob said amazed.
“Now you understand why Rachel going anywhere near you made me nervous.”
“Your blood also affects memory?”
“Yes.”
“Please don’t try that on me.”
“Now that would be interesting.”
“I mean it.”
“You have my word.”
“How do you find your victims?”
“Take a walk down any back alley and you soon find yourself threatened. I turn the tables.”
“What do you do with the body?”
I gave the deepest sigh.
He couldn’t hide his horror. “You throw them in the Thames?”
“We’re all faced with complex decisions.” I rose off the coffin. “This is not how I want you to see me.”
He disappeared inside his thoughts. “There are some physicians that bleed their patients. Although I don’t practice this technique, perhaps we could give you the blood that they draw?”
The thought of drinking clotted blood caused a wave of nausea. Drinking for me was so much more than survival, a sublime sensuous ritual. “Please don’t see me as one of your patients.”
“How would you prefer me to see you?”
“As your father.”
“You look more like my brother.”
I shrugged.
He was suddenly anxious. “What happens when I age and you stay the same?”
The sense of evening looming brought little relief. We still had a few hours or so to go before we could welcome the fresh air of outside.
“Have you given any thought to that?” Jacob asked.
“I have.”
“Well?”
“We’ll just have to work through it.”
“This is surreal.”
“You have my word that you will never find yourself in my predicament.”
Jacob shifted uncomfortably. “That’s good to hear. But I’d assumed it was a given.”
“If there’s one benefit to being what I am, it’s that I have the ability to protect you.”
“I don’t need—”
“Trust me, we all need someone to watch over us.”
“I have God.”
“He doesn’t like to interfere, remember? I have no problem with the concept.”
“Some things are best left alone.”
“Like what exactly?”
He was taken aback.
“Jacob, you have my blessing to continue with your vocation, but not to spend any time worrying about me.”
“I’d like to study you.”
With a cringe, I gave my answer.
“I’ve offended you?” he said softly.
With a gesture, I dispelled the idea.
He bit into his lower lip, aware that he’d over stepped. “Perhaps I could follow you one night?”
“Or perhaps you could just stay home.”
“Well, that’s no fun.” Jacob stretched.
“You’re beginning to sound like me.” I smiled.
He stared off at nothing. “Wait a minute.”
“What?”
“All those times we were playing chess?”
I gestured sincerely. “You’re quite adept now. I actually have to pay attention.”
“I really have to go out with you and watch what you do.”
I gave a smile. “Over my dead body.”
Jacob gave a brief, nervous laugh.
“I’m going back to Spain,” I said. “I want you to come with me.”
He looked crestfallen. “I’ve made a life for myself here.”
“Consider it.”
“I don’t even speak Spanish.”
“London is not the city it once was. It’s so dangerous.”
“In what way?”
“Spain has so much more to offer.”
He shrugged.
“I’ll always love you,” I whispered. “You do know that, don’t you?”
His gaze fell onto the quivering candle flame. “This city may have some questionable provinces, but for me it’s still home.”
With his words came the realization that I’d have to face Archer one final time.
Chapter 54
WHEN WE’RE PUSHED to the limit, we discover ours.
With speed so fast that my ears rang and my head spun, I flew out of Belshazzar’s, heading southwest for Archer’s country estate, my feet barely skimming the roof tops, following the main road out of London.
Landing near the great house, I arrived just in time to find the Stone Masters loading the last of four carriages parked outside the front. Deciding to head them off, I started down their pathway and waited.