Lilah (5 page)

I had just turned fifteen and I was no closer
to knowing who or what I was.

Chapter 4

Gabriel

The moon loomed large and bright,
hanging low above the trees and perfect for hunting. The forests at night were
exhilarating and I ran, bounding through new pathways, brushing past low branches;
feeling the rush of fallen leaves churn from the ground and sail behind me. The
intensity of wild rosemary made me light-headed, and midnight felt like a fine
silk sheet around me.

Sometimes I would stop to scratch messages in
the bark for my strigoi friends: Giorgio, Nokëg and others. We were all clever
at this childish game of hide and find, though none as good as I. The elders
were the best having spent many years at such frivolous pastimes; several of
whom
looked younger than me, so long had they slept to
rejuvenate. I was just a few years past two hundred; my own youthful appearance
restored from many years buried beneath the earth.

During our hiding games, I would carve
patterns, maps and letters into the bark – ancient messages read only by
our kind in
witch speak
– and these were left to help the others
locate me. Our senses would be drawn to the fragrance of freshly etched wood.

Often our games took us across borders and
sometimes we lost a few participants along the way – those not specially
gifted, or inexperienced reborn distracted by the smell of prey – but
always there was a winner and most often it was me. Sometimes such merriment
went for days and the object was to catch me before I returned to our castle.

But that night, there were no games. It was
time to feed.

The lights of a small town glimmered ahead. I
travelled far for hunting. It seemed less civilised to hunt close to home; to
deplete supplies from one area. I was trained from elders who knew best about endurance
and had always been discreet. I often carried with me a heavy purse and silver
cane, and my finely woven shirt and leather trousers had been tailored by the
best enabling me to comfortably consort in fashionable towns. It was easy to
lure those human predators with an eye for someone else’s coin.

I did not always reveal the destinations where
I travelled well beyond the listening skills of my master, Lewis. It was just
one of our many disagreements, since I felt that we were entitled to some liberties.
Lewis was too rigid with rules; though as coven master, it was his right to
make or change them. A stoic leader, nonetheless, but one I regarded out of
duty sometimes more than respect.

It had been a month since my last hunting and
nearing the town I could smell that familiar distasteful reek of human waste
and fear. Although I was fond of some humans, I admit that many were quite
disgusting in their behaviour, and if not for my appetite for blood I would
avoid those sections where debauchery was the main source of entertainment;
where they drank, pissed on themselves, and abused the weaker of their kind.

Once at the town I stood outside a small,
well-built house. A celebration of some kind was taking place within. A young
boy and girl danced to the sounds of a lute while adults clapped them on. I
took a moment to sit and listen, enjoying the sound of their feet tapping on
the floor. There was more applause at the end and
cakes on
silver trays were offered by servants wearing aprons edged with lace
.

These honest people would not do
;
of course. My prize was elsewhere. At the other end of the
town, where it was darker, where the river smelled of rotted meat, was the
place where I would find what I was seeking.

I lurked near the door of a
csarda
where
the air was fetid with the smell of beer spilling out into the streets. The
establishment was full of harlots and men who boasted of very little and spread
rumours about nothing, while a few weary travellers kept a safe distance in
their corner booths away from the revelry. The rowdy group drowned out the
pleasant sound of nightingales.

It was not uncommon to find a person of
interest leaving these taverns for a more dubious destination. And tonight I
easily found my mark.

The man had recently come to town; a tinker
with trinkets and chains, and anything else he could get his greedy hands on to
sell. Though, others would not have known that his goods were stolen. He had
killed for some of these items; worthless pieces of silver, some ripped from
the teeth of his victims.

I waited patiently for him to roll out drunk.
He had a strumpet with him – a girl barely older than fourteen. Her
thoughts were open to me and I learned that she had been earning her living for
two summers already, possibly a trade handed down from her mother. The rogue
leaned on her heavily.

‘Here, you’re too heavy! I can’t be carrying
you home. It’s too far.’

‘Stop your whining, bitch.’

And with that the man seemed to press even more
weight on the girl. They staggered along a track just outside the town. The man
did not want to spend any of his stolen coin on tavern beds and since the
weather was fine he had made a makeshift shelter off the track.

He shoved the girl downward to crawl into the
small enclosure, prodding her rear as with cattle to move her faster. Once
inside he began to tear away her clothes with dog-like ferocity.

‘Wait a minute,’ she said. ‘We haven’t set a
price.’

‘Shut up,’ he shouted and slapped her hard
across the face. She touched her cheek but did not seem overly shocked. She
then proceeded to unlace the front of her bodice, but the man was impatient and
brushed her hands aside before ripping her clothes clumsily with short bullish
hands. Her protestation and skinny arms
were
no match
for the weight of him. The faded brown bodice was stripped from her body to
reveal a linen chemise.

‘What’s this? A secret stash of coppers!’

I heard the tinkle of coins. A woman often hid
such in her hose but this girl still too young in the trade to bury her gains
while she worked.

‘That’s my earnings. Leave them alone.’

From behind my tree I could make myself unseen
to humans. So quiet were my steps and skill at camouflage that I could watch
the events unfold.

The girl scrambled for her coins and was halted
by a fist to the back of the head that thrust her forwards, face to the ground.
She lost a moment’s consciousness before attempting to sit up. The man pushed
her down again while shoving the coins in his own boots before beginning to
fumble the front of his breeches. He pushed the girl’s skirts roughly up her
thighs.

I could not, of course, stand to watch anymore.

As he raised his fist to land another blow
– for it wasn’t just the impending intimate act that motivated him but
something far more depraved and self-gratifying – I reached for his wrist.
He found he could not move his arm from the strength of my grip and his face
showed surprise that, at first, all he could do was blink drunkenly at me a few
times. I released him to wait outside.

He lurched after me, unfolding his human form
slowly and thrusting his chest forward several inches, presuming that his
height would frighten me so that I might retreat. As you would expect, I did
not.

Under the full moon we were now clearly visible
to one another; though my sense of sight was far beyond anything any human
could own. He charged at me, butting his head and shoulder into my chest
– but with scant effect on one such as me – while I landed my own
blow against his temple, splitting the leathery outer layers of skin and
felling him to the ground.

‘Strong for a scrawny fellow,’ he rasped. ‘But
bastards like you are all in a night’s work.’ While he contemplated his next
move I helped the girl up and gave her my coat.

‘Stay where you are!’ the man bellowed to the
girl trying to get up but, whether it was from the beer or as a result of the
strike, his feet slipped from under him.

I used these spare moments to turn to the girl
and kiss her hand. She seemed unruffled by what had just happened, no doubt
hardened by such encounters.

‘Please seek me out,’ she said. ‘I promise I
can reward you in kind.’

‘No, thank you,’ I said, pointing towards the
track back to the town. ‘Now hurry!’

She picked up the remains of her coins and spat
at the recumbent man before making her exit. It was unfortunate that her choices
were so limited that she could not find alternate means to exist, and I could
not guarantee her permanent safety from this kind of human, not to mention my
own kind. Many of the newest members of my family hunted in these areas and
were more open to opportunity
;
their interpretation of
‘degenerates’ slightly wider than the elders.

The man’s head was bleeding and it was
consuming every thought, while every muscle in my body was contracting in
anticipation. He stood up unsteadily until he found his balance once more.

Again he came, attempting to sink his thumbs
into my eyes but I was quick to snap his wrists. He yelped in pain.

‘You slimy turd! We could have gone halves with
her,’ he lied.

I circled him. It was a tactic I enjoyed using
to further
unsettle
my victims. He looked cautiously
at me then.

‘I don’t want any more trouble,’ he said,
wincing from the pain, his hands dangling uselessly by his sides. But his eyes
said that he would do it all again if he were able enough.

I threw him at a tree and heard his back snap.
It’s not how I liked to kill. It was more enjoyable to paralyse them with my
feeding and feel their heart slow. To feed on someone helpless took away a lot
of the enjoyment. Still it was perhaps more torturous and if anyone deserved such
treatment, it was this weasel.

I stood over him and watched his fear-filled
eyes. Then I bent to draw from him his life.

Lilah

It was morning and time to leave.
For the second time in my life I was required to take a new direction. I was
yet to learn of the many times I would have to change course simply because I
was born different.

Arianne stood at the gate to watch me go. She
was resolute, her face slightly harder, less
well-meaning
than I was used to.

‘Goodbye, Lilah.
Don’t look back. You are obviously
meant for better
things
as perhaps am I. I will not
forget what you did.’ With those parting words, I headed down the wide road
between the rows of white clay and oak wood houses with their brown-orange
roofs, towards the hilly edge of town where the houses were thatched and
smaller. Beyond this was a world I had not seen.

I had grown so tall this last year. My stone
coloured sheath was freshly laundered and lengthened to just cover my ankles.
Over this, I wore a grey pinafore to replace my novice garment. I clutched at
Arianne’s bag, which kept me closer to her and the place I was raised, while
fighting the urge to look back.

I kept to Arianne’s directions towards her
former home, feeling much anxiety about meeting her family. She had been quite
secretive about them over the years, so much so I was unaware she had younger
sisters. Arianne had only ever talked about her brothers and their riding and
hunting activities. As she grew older she became distanced from her brothers
and it was at this time her parents had agreed to give her to the abbey.

Outside the town, the pathways grew narrower,
just enough for a horse and cart. The day was hot and the straps of my satchel
began to rub my shoulder. I nibbled at the food but my stomach was churning,
suppressing any hunger. Occasionally I passed another traveller or tradesman
who, thankfully, rarely acknowledged my presence.

It was late in the day and I realised that I
would soon have to rest for the evening. My legs had become weary and my body
still weak from the amount of healing skill I had used in previous weeks.
Shadows of trees fell across the pathway and I began to imagine the fearsome
grunts, growls and shrieks that came from deep within the forest were almost
upon me.

The light was dimming quickly and I dreaded
sleeping on the side of the track without any form of shelter, at the mercy of
bears and wolves. While I bent to collect some fallen branches and ferns to
cover me during sleep, I felt a movement in the wind and a slight tremor
through my body.

‘Who’s there?’

The forest bordering the pathway was dense.
Large leafy conifers stretched indefinitely shading dark moist earth. A low
mist wound its way around tall tree trunks forming floating pathways into the
forest blackness.

No-one
appeared from the dark recesses but
I was convinced I was not alone. I’d had such feelings of ‘knowing’ many times
before. There were strange occurrences like guessing what people were going to
say before they said it, or hearing a conversation by people I did not know.

I waited a moment before I called out again.

‘Stop following me!’ I called to the wind only
to be startled when I heard a faint crunching of dried grasses
;
of light-footed steps.