Lailah (The Styclar Saga) (6 page)

I released my straining fingers, which had crushed the glass shards deeper into my palm. “How did you do that? How did you pull me back here?” I asked softly.

But Gabriel had already left. He rushed back to me, and placed ice cubes in my hand and wrapped a clean patchwork tea towel around my sliced skin.

My hands and legs were shaking uncontrollably, and my knees were knocking together. I was suddenly overwhelmed with a full range of emotions, coupled with complete exhaustion. It felt like I had climbed a mountain to reach this point. A mountain I could barely recall scaling—though the physical and emotional scars all sat below and on my skin from the lengthy journey.

Gabriel leaned in and placed his hands on either side of my chair, which was wobbling as I shook. I turned my face away from him, embarrassed. But he wouldn’t allow it. “Hey…” Gabriel murmured.

His soft voice floated to my hearing, carried by a single breath that tickled my neck as he tilted his face to meet mine. I wasn’t sure how he did it, but my body stopped convulsing.

Hesitantly, I rolled my neck so my eyes met his and I was surprised to see his bottom lip trembling. He gulped, hard. Gabriel stared into my eyes, and I watched his eyebrows dip—he looked sad.

His composure changed and urgently he lifted me up and wrapped his strong arms around my back and waist, pulling me into a tight embrace. I held my hands clamped together on his chest, his chin resting on the top of my head as the tip of my nose brushed his skin just below his Adam’s apple.

Eventually releasing me, he placed his hands over the top of mine, rewrapping the towel firmly. He demanded, “You need to tell me everything.”

I sat back down, and took a few minutes to gather myself while Gabriel sat patiently waiting. His blond curls were pushed back behind his ears, leaving a few unruly strands hanging above his shining eyes. His expectant stare reached deep inside of me. I felt exposed. “What do you want to know?” I asked quietly.

“Let’s start with what just happened,” he said. “You were sitting here one second perfectly fine, and the next thing you’re completely frozen, as if you were in a trance.”

“I was locked in a memory,” I replied. “I have visions of things that happened in the past. Memories, I assume, when I’m asleep, dreaming. Sometimes when I’m awake it happens to me too, if I touch something that was familiar.… Sights, smells, sounds can all take me back.”

Gabriel pondered. “You didn’t look like you were experiencing a happy memory. You broke the glass from gripping it so hard. What did you see?”

“That was something different. I was watching you and me, having a picnic in the summer. But the memory dissolved and something, or rather someone, came to me.”

My hands started to shake again, and my eyes prickled with a stinging sensation. A tear ran down the side of my cheek.

Gabriel appeared startled and began to hum low, comforting sounds. I felt calm instantly. I ran my fingers over my cheeks to dry them and panicked when there was blood on my fingertips.

I stared at Gabriel, confused. “Why are my tears blood?” I asked, as if he might possess the answer.

“Has that happened to you before?” he inquired as he tightened his grip, adding more pressure. It was starting to sting.

“I’m not sure.”

He paused and seemed puzzled with the answer I had given. “Does it hurt?”

“A little,” I replied, looking at my hand.

“Francesca—”

“Call me Cessie,” I interrupted.

His lips curved up just a little at the edges, a sad smile.

“Francesca.” Ignoring my request, he inhaled sharply. “We knew each other, we were quite close … a long time ago.” He stopped to gauge my reaction, and I stiffened.

“I’m pretty old, I get that. But I don’t age; I’ve been seventeen for a very long time. But I can die, it’s just … I wake up again. My dreams, my visions are the only windows into anything that came before, and I don’t pretend to understand them.”

His face fell away from mine so I couldn’t see his expression. He leaned back before he said, “When was the last time that you … died?” His wide eyes flashed up to mine. He seemed to hold his breath as he waited for my answer.

“Six years ago.”

His shoulders slumped forward and I felt him tighten his grip around the tea towel. “So you don’t remember me at all, not really.…” He trailed off.

“Maybe I don’t remember you, but I never forgot you. Who were you to me?”

Glancing up to meet my eyes, I felt warmth resonating from his being, almost stroking my skin. “All that time ago, we were … well, we were close friends.” He smiled.

“I see. If we were friends then how are you still alive?” I asked. “Are you a Vampire too?” I don’t know why I even asked that; I could tell he wasn’t. He was so different.

“No.” He inhaled. “I’m an Angel.” He waited for my reaction.

I sat silently. I hadn’t known Angels existed—well, not outside of myth at least. But then, I had thought the same of Vampires until a few years ago. To the best of my recollection, I hadn’t ever come across an Angel. I trod carefully with my next question. “If you’re an Angel, shouldn’t you be in Heaven?”

“Angels don’t ordinarily live on Earth, that’s true, unless the Angel is fallen,” he answered. “If Angels choose to fall, they lose their connection to our world; their gifts cease. Rendered useless on this plane, they become mortal. Seldom is that choice ever made.”

“But if choosing to fall means you become mortal, then I don’t understand. You are the same as in my dreams, you look the same?”

“That’s because I didn’t fall. My situation is a little different,” he explained.

“And these Vampires … Jonah? Are they somehow part of your different situation?” I pushed.

“Yes and no. I have been on Earth a long time and I have freed a number of Second Generation Vampires. They were human once; the life they have now was forced upon them. If I see a chance to grant salvation, I take it.” He paused thoughtfully before continuing. “Jonah was, well, a special case. When I came across him, he showed through his actions that he was capable of change. I offered him his freedom, and I try, just like with the others, to help guide him back to some sort of humanity.”

“How long has he been with you?” I asked.

“Not long enough. He needs more time, and there are others involved—It’s not that simple. He remains loyal to me in gratitude of my help. When he is able to leave, and if he wishes to, I will let him go.”

He must have known I was about to pursue the conversation further as he quickly changed the subject. “How’s your hand?” He peeled away the towel, raising my palm toward him. He met my eyes, disbelieving, when he saw that it had healed already. “How is that possible? You were—are—mortal.” He stumbled over his words.

“It just is, I don’t know why. Let me ask you, if we were such close friends, where did you go? Why did you leave me behind?”

He winced as the words left my lips and I sensed that I had asked the question he most wanted to avoid.

As Gabriel pondered his answer, Jonah bounded onto the patio.

“Hey, Cessie, you’re up and about?” he asked, somewhat surprised.

Gabriel glared at him. I figured he was still unhappy about Jonah feeding from me.

“Gabriel.” He nodded at his friend respectfully.

“Yeah, I’m a lot better, how are you?” I replied.

“All good.” He seemed far more humble than when we had first met.

I stood, and both Jonah and Gabriel moved in my direction.

“Here, let me help you.” Jonah scooped me up effortlessly. “You should be resting anyways.” His arms were solid and they held me firmly.

“Put her down, Jonah, she’s fine. She can walk.” Gabriel’s tone was far less gentle than the way he had spoken to me.

Jonah looked baffled, but placed me down.

“Francesca, why don’t you take a warm bath and freshen up? Brooke will have laid out some clothes for you, you’re about the same size,” Gabriel said.

I scowled back at him—I still had plenty of questions.

“We’ll continue this when you’re done. I need to speak with Jonah. He’s been recuperating himself, so we haven’t had a chance to talk,” Gabriel said, nodding at me.

I took “recuperating” to mean feeding.

Defeated, I reluctantly went back up to the room I had slept in and I ran a long, hot bath. The tub was wide and deep. I couldn’t resist adding some of the salts that were placed tidily next to it. I unhooked my necklace and placed it carefully on the nest of tables.

Peeling off my clothes, I dipped my toe in but pulled it out quickly as it sizzled. I took a deep breath and tried again, this time stepping all the way in. I released my long, blood-stained hair from its elastic and let it flow down the nape of my neck and float on the surface of the clean water.

Sinking in as far as I could, I bobbed my head under and swilled my face. I rested for what felt like too long, before cleaning my skin and scrubbing my hair furiously. I reached for the white cotton towel, though I could barely see it, the room was so steamy.

I was anxious to return to Gabriel. I felt a powerful pull toward him and, strangely, out of the many questions I desired answers to, the only one I truly cared about was if he had loved me. I chuckled to myself, almost in disgust at my own indulgence. As if someone like him would have loved someone like me. He was exceptional, and I was not. But I knew his face, the way he smelled, and the way he had looked at me once before, in another lifetime. Mostly I recalled his smile, how it extended from the height of one cheek to the next; he was extraordinarily beautiful.

As I emerged from the tub, I dried myself off and wrapped the large, cozy towel around my pale skin. I moved into the bedroom and saw, as promised, a tight silk spaghetti-strap racerback top covered in deep purple roses hanging from the mirror on the dresser. For added warmth, a knitted hip-length cardigan was draped over the hanger. A pair of black skinny jeans and some stiletto boots sat on the chair. A pretty makeup bag and a hairbrush with some clips were also set out. I smiled. As far as I knew, no one had ever cared enough to look after me before.

Patting myself down, I set about trying on the clothes. They fit but were a little tight; despite my delicate frame, I had a curvy hourglass shape. But Gabriel had been accurate enough, this Brooke girl and I were a similar size. The boots were shiny and inviting, but the heel height was not, so I opted for my own flats instead. Wringing out my hair, I clipped it half up, half down, allowing the natural curl at the ends to dangle to my waist, leaving my side bangs to frame my face. Makeup was new; I didn’t wear it ordinarily, but I didn’t want to seem ungrateful, so I put a few strokes of blush across my cheeks and a little mascara on my lashes.

Eyeing the reflection in the mirror, I almost didn’t recognize myself. I only ever wore practical clothes. Washing my face was about as much effort as I ever made to look presentable. I immediately felt self-conscious. Baggy jeans and flats meant that I blended into the backdrop; people never paid much attention to me. I didn’t know how to wear clothes like this, I worried I would appear awkward in them. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Shaking my head, I scolded myself; there was nothing wrong with me—why shouldn’t I look nice for a change? I attempted a more confident swagger toward the door.

I was ready to return to my conversation with Gabriel.

FOUR

A
S
I
PACED OUT ONTO THE LANDING,
I could hear Gabriel and Jonah talking in the kitchen doorway. Their raised voices suggested they were arguing and so I loitered before I walked any farther forward.

“… such power, I’ve never experienced anything like it. I knocked them down as if they were nothing.”

“You’d been starved? Did they do anything to you that could have had that kind of effect?” I heard Gabriel ask quickly.

“Nope. I was completely weak and then she found me.”

“You drank from her. You shouldn’t have done that.” Gabriel’s tone was sharp.

“She didn’t exactly give me a choice! And if I hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here now.”

There was a pause, and I moved back toward the bedroom door.

“And while we’re on the subject, are you going to tell me how it is you know her? What is she? She’s not human, I know that.”

“She is,” Gabriel snapped back, though not terribly convincingly.

“I tasted her. She’s something else. Who is she?” Jonah’s voice lowered.

I couldn’t hear the response; I started wondering if I’d been discovered, so I skipped down the winding staircase. As I reached the bottom, Gabriel’s attention immediately switched from Jonah and focused on me for a few moments before that sumptuous smile spread across his face. Jonah spun around and nodded earnestly in my direction.

It was an intriguing sight to behold; the two of them side by side, such a contrast. Angel and Vampire—by definition, polar opposites. Impossible even.

Before I had a chance to speak, a male Vampire came charging through the hallway, slamming the front door so hard the floorboards under my feet shook. “We have to leave, they’re coming!” His words tumbled out, barely coherent.

“What? Why would they track us? They fled when I fought them and they’ll know there are more of us here,” Jonah replied arrogantly. This was the Jonah I had first met.

“I sense Eligio,” the other said. “He’s coming with the clan.”

“What’s left of them,” Jonah scoffed.

“There’s more, it’s not just Eligio. Another Pureblood and his clan travel with him, I can feel it.”

That seemed to quiet Jonah.

“Two Purebloods? Two clans? That’s an awful lot of effort to put Jonah in his place.” Gabriel was thinking aloud.

Almost at the same second, all three of them glanced up at me.

“The girl?” the Vampire said, looking to Gabriel.

Gabriel contemplated this for a few moments.

“Erm, the girl has a name—Francesca. And who might you be?” I asked, a little annoyed.

He inspected me quizzically. “Michael. I’m sorry; I don’t mean to be rude. The situation’s quite serious and we don’t have much time,” he replied through gritted teeth.