Sanctifying Grace (Resurrection) (12 page)

Roman’s thoughts were travelling along a different path.

‘I have learnt from my mistake with Wilfred,’ he said. ‘Viktor advised me not to wait so long next time: once a human has agreed to be resurrected, then the deed should be done immediately.’

‘Have you resurrected someone else?’ It wasn’t really any of my business but I hoped he hadn’t
. I wanted Roman all to myself. It was bad enough knowing he had relationships with other humans – I don’t think I could deal with him having a regalato.

‘No. I have shared my vision with Viktor and a very few other vampires, and they have agreed to resurrect if necessary, leaving me free to plan and learn, unburdened with the bonds that a sanguinisto must bear.’

‘Vision? What vision?’ What exactly was Roman planning?

He scanned our surroundings once more before answering.

‘There is something in the blood,’ he began. ‘Human blood. It is different to that of animals or else vampires would be able to live off cows and sheep. I am trying to discover that difference and once I do, then maybe, just maybe, I can understand why my kind is dependent on yours for our survival.’

‘What’s the point?’

‘The point, my lady, is if something were to happen to the human species, a disease that wipes you out, or if your numbers were to be decimated like they were during the Great Plague, then vampires, too, would die in large numbers. I wish to prevent this.’ He squeezed my hand tightly. ‘There also may be clues in the blood as to why some humans can be resurrected and others cannot.’

‘You mean me?’

‘I mean you.’

‘Have you found anything yet?’

‘Alas, no. We have barely begun to comprehend how blood works in humans, and there is so much more to be done before we appreciate how it works in vampires and why your blood is vital to our existence.’

He helped me down from the wall, careful not to scrape my bare buttocks on the rough stones. ‘There are some who have joined with me in my quest to seek out humans who excel in their fields and resurrect them, although it will be some time before they can be put to work. Yet others are learning for themselves, and that is the hardest, for they have to live more like humans than is easy for us to do.’

I glanced questioningly at him as we made our way towards the house.

‘As you are aware, it is difficult for us to walk in daylight, and to do so we need to drink as much as four times more often. Such activity is not easy to hide. My,
our
, laboratories are in big cities, London, New York, San Francisco, where our chances of being discovered are so much less. Thanks to you and my knowledge of the future, I am rich enough to indulge this whim of mine.’

I had no doubt this was not a whim
, it was a driving force. Roman had found something so fascinating and compelling that he was pouring all that he was, and all that he had, into it.

He searched the fields once more, and again I wondered what he was looking for. He was uneasy and on edge and I had never seen him act this way. It scared me.

Roman took the key from me as we reached the front door and slid it into the lock. I halted, reluctant to enter: there were too many unpleasant memories in this house.

As the door swung open he asked, ‘Do you know what
Gaia
means?’

He was trying to distract me, to get me inside the house. I knew what he was doing
, but I played along anyway. I shook my head.

‘The Gaia hypothesis, or theory, proposes that all organisms interact with each other and their surroundings to maintain a much bigger living organism – the Earth itself. The theory states that the planet is alive, in and of itself, in spite of most peop
le believing only the obviously living organisms which inhabit it have the gift of life. I have named my company ‘Gaia Industries’; part my own name, Gaianus, and part a play on this theory. If this hypothesis is correct, then vampires have as much right to exist as every other thing on the planet, and even if we can’t share this knowledge with the wider world, then at least
we
will know,
we
will accept that we, too, are part of the Earth and not an aberration, an abomination. Too many of my kind cannot see the beauty in their own existence. I would like to change that.’

And if he did, what then? Would vampires be tempted to step out of the shadows and live openly amongst humans? Could normal people tolerate one of their nightmares coming to blood-drinking life?

In so many ways, vampires were superior to humans: strength, hearing, eyesight, speed, and let’s don’t forget longevity. And they, mostly, had a grasp on their own emotions we humans could only aspire to achieve. Given a choice, armed with the knowledge that vampires live amongst us, how many humans would actively choose to become one? I thought there would be many, and then the problems would begin: factions would appear and there were enough of those already. There would be division between those who were able to be resurrected and those for whom to try would be death, as their bodies, for whatever reason, rebelled against the process. Then there would be those humans who refused to believe vampires are not inherently evil and rallied behind religion and fear.

Roman tried to usher me into the hall, but I held back. ‘I need to get you inside,’ he urged.

‘Why? Can’t we go somewhere else?’

‘We will,’ he promised, ‘but first you need some clothes.’

‘You can bring them out to me.’

He sighed, and put one foot over the step
, but as he did so his head cocked and he turned to stare over the fields.

‘Too late,’ he said. ‘We need to go. Now.’

It was then I heard what had alerted him: dogs. Distant, but closing in, a faint baying howl making the hairs on my neck stand up and sending shivers down my back. I knew without being told what it was they were hunting.

He lifted me into his arms and ran, keeping away from the road, heading out through the short grass.

‘Roman, what –?’

‘I’ll take you as far as is needed,’ he whispered. ‘Once we are away from Brecon you will return to your own time.’

‘No! I want to stay here, with you.’

‘It’s too dangerous for you.’

‘What about you?’

He grunted in disgust.

‘I won’t go,’ I insisted.

‘You’ll do as you’re told.’

I knew I had no choice; he wasn’t going to put me down and I couldn’t fight my way free of him, but I could perhaps persuade him.

‘Please,’ I pleaded. ‘You can outrun them, then circle around and come in to town from the other side.’

He stopped to listen to the night and the muscles in his shoulders relaxed. I guessed we had either lost our pursuers or they had fallen far behind.

‘I will try it your way,’ he conceded, ‘but if there is any chance of them discovering you, then I will send you back to your own time.’

I snuggled into him, as much from relief as to try to keep warm. ‘Thank you.’

It took more than an hour for Roman to lay a convoluted trail back to the town, and once we reached the first houses he took to the water. The river was in full flow, high from heavy spring rain, though only hip deep if he stayed near the bank. As careful as he was, I couldn’t help but get wet and I was blue from cold by the time he squelched out and set me down, miserable and shivering. I clung to him, too weak to stand upright on my own.

‘Wait here. I will bring clothes and then we will find shelter.’

I had no sooner sat on the damp, chilled ground than he was back with trousers, shirt, jumper, long wool coat, socks, and wellies.

‘It was the best I could do,’ he said, helping me into them.

I didn’t care. I was grateful to be clothed again and I noticed that Roman, too, had changed out of his wet trousers.

There were houses along the river bank, with gardens backing onto the water, and it was through one of these he led me, unlatching the gate and dodging forgotten washing.

I held back as he tried the door, surprised when it opened. He stepped inside and I followed cautiously. This was no unlived-in house; there were dishes in the sink, clothes folded in a basket, a still-smouldering fire, and the smell of cooking in the air.

‘Who lives here? Does it belong to you?’

‘I don’t know and no. Don’t move.’

He stalked out of the tiny kitchen
and I was certain I heard him mutter, ‘I must be mad’. Then there were sounds of a scuffle, a muffled scream, and Roman returned with a squirming child under one arm.

‘I enthralled the mother, but this one,’ he shook the boy none too gently, ‘is one of the minority that is immune. What do you want me to do with him?’

‘You can put him down for a start,’ I said.

He shrugged and dropped the boy. ‘He bit me.’ Roman incredulously showed me his arm and I suppressed a smile. There wasn’t a mark on it
, and biting was normally Roman’s forte.

The boy made an immediate dash for the door
, but the vampire yanked him back by the collar of his pyjamas.

‘No you don’t,’ he growled and the boy kicked him, hard, and screeched
, when the only damage that occurred was to his own foot. Roman clamped a hand across the boy’s mouth.

‘What about his mother?’ I asked.

‘She’s asleep and will stay asleep for as long as we need her to. She won’t remember anything about tonight, or tomorrow for that matter. My concern is the child. What do you want me to do with him? What will you let me do with him?’

I stared at Roman, aghast. Surely he wasn’t asking for my permission to kill him?

‘You wouldn’t!’

Roman was quickly losing patience. ‘No, I wouldn’t,’ was his rather cross reply. ‘Have you learned nothing about me?’

‘Sorry, but I thought that if a human learns about – Ow! You hit me!’ I rubbed my arm where Roman had lashed out. ‘As I was saying, if a –’  He slapped at me again. ‘Stop hitting me!’

‘Don’t be such a baby. I didn’t hit you hard enough to hurt. Now, be quiet and listen. The boy knows nothing, but he will if you don’t watch what you are saying.’

‘Oh.’ The penny dropped: of course the child didn’t know. How could he guess? Why should he guess? He was much more likely to think we were escaped prisoners or some sort of criminals.

‘I ask again, what will you allow me to do? Can I tie him, or would that offend you?’

The boy was wriggling frantically in Roman’s firm grip, the vampire’s hand still tight over the child’s mouth. He was angry, rather than frightened, if the noises he was making were anything to go by.

‘You better had, and gag him, too, unless you want to hold him for the rest of the night.’

I searched the cupboard drawers until I found a length of string. Roman tied the boy securely to a chair, found a sock in the washing basket and stuffed it into the child’s mouth. I hoped for the lad’s sake it was a clean one. He glowered at us balefully and angrily rocked the chair legs. He had spirit; I don’t know anyone who wouldn’t be scared if two strangers broke into your house in the middle of the night and tied you up, but this little lad had plenty of fight still in him.

He was about nine or ten, tow-headed and blue-eyed, and as skinny as the legs on his chair.

‘You said his mother is asleep. What about his father?’ I asked.

‘No idea. There is no one else in the house apart from his mother, but there are men’s clothes in the wardrobe.’ Roman looked pointedly at what I was wearing. ‘Let’s hope he stays away.’

‘If I take your gag off, will you promise to be quiet?’ I asked the boy.

The child nodded. Roman rolled his eyes.

‘He’s promised,’ I argued. Roman turned his back and hunted through a drawer.

I untied the scarf that was holding the sock in place and the boy promptly yelled. Roman was at his side in an instant, holding a knife to his throat. The silence was instantaneous. My lover gave me a ‘told you so’ look. I pointed at the knife.

‘You’re scaring him,’ I said.

‘Good, then he will remain silent.’ Roman turned to me and winked.

I didn’t like scaring small children, but we needed somewhere safe for a few hours and he needed to keep quiet, for all our sakes.

‘Where is your dad?’

‘Fuck off!’

Roman rapped him on the head with his knuckles. ‘There is no need for such language, runt. Now answer the lady.’

I had to admire the boy – he was tied to a chair with a knife at his neck and he still had the balls to scowl at me.

‘Army.’

‘Will he be back soon?’

‘Dunno.’

‘What’s your name?’

He shrugged.

‘What’s your name?’

He continued to scowl.

‘You must have a name,’ I cajoled.

No answer.

Roman lost patience. ‘Tell her what she wants to know else I will tear you limb from limb.’ Suddenly he was all vampire, and menace hung around him like perfume. He dropped his veil of humanity and allowed the boy a brief glimpse of the alien being underneath. The child screwed up his eyes in terror, refusing to believe what was in front of his face, trying to pretend Roman didn’t exist.