Lailah (The Styclar Saga) (5 page)

Gabriel carried me up a winding spiral staircase and placed me down carefully onto a firm mattress. “Don’t worry. I’m taking care of you,” he whispered in my ear.

I wanted to say something, urgently needing to talk with him, but I couldn’t speak. My body was failing me, and the burning had begun to fizzle away into a dull ache. My senses were also starting to fade. I knew him. I knew those eyes. After all this time, I had started to think that he was just a dream, a mirage that I had created from the depths of my mind. Yet when I tried to block him from my thoughts, his face only seemed to work even harder to reach me.

I tried to breathe through my nose, but I couldn’t find any air. I opened my mouth and gasped, but all I could taste was blood seeping into the back of my throat, slowly choking me. My gaze was drawn to my side and though I couldn’t feel him grip my hand with his, I watched him as he did.

I stared up into his eyes one last time as the thoughts whirling around my mind started to dissolve. The aching in my shoulder was no longer apparent. In fact, I could no longer feel any part of my body. My consciousness was slipping away; it was on the edge of the emptiness that I found Gabriel’s face in the distance.

I remembered this dream.

I watched as he stepped toward me, as he bent down and kissed my hand so gently, greeting me. Dressed smartly in a white shirt and deep green jacket with gold buckles, it was like watching something from a very, very old film. The smile on his face, which I had witnessed so many times in my sleep, imprinted now in my memory. I remembered the love beaming from his eyes that blinded me, eclipsing my own. The eyes were deep set, and a piercing blue, like a Morpho butterfly’s outstretched wings; his gaze was full of hope in that moment. Deeper and deeper into the dream I floated, at ease with everything in the haze.

Then I was falling.

I jerked as I felt my body being shaken. In the distance I could hear raised voices and panic. I shot back to reality and flipped my eyes open, taking in the scene around me. I was facing a window. I was lying on my side; the pillow my head was resting on was saturated in crimson. I moved my arm instinctively to wipe away the blood that was still oozing from my lips. I let out a low moan, which was just about all I could manage.

“She’s breathing, she’s back!” I recognized Jonah’s voice from the shadows.

“Time for you to go,” I heard Gabriel instruct, and I felt a small whip of air as Jonah left.

Behind me, Gabriel began stitching up my wound, and for the briefest second I was sure he paused. I felt the tickle of fingertips grazing my back; it was so quick I thought I’d imagined it as the sting of a thousand wasps jabbed me while he continued with his work.

But I knew the extent of the injury would dictate how long it would be before my skin would heal and my body would be back to normal, as if it had never happened. I would fall into a deep sleep, the length of which depended on how badly hurt I was and how much time my body needed to heal and recover.

For as long as I could remember, this is how it had always been for me.

*   *   *

A
FEW HOURS HAD PASSED.
I was cocooned in a comforting, thick duvet. My breathing had steadied. My mind was tired and my body ached, but I didn’t want to drift off again. I couldn’t turn my neck to look, but I felt a presence in the room. And even though I couldn’t see him, the light flickering against the darkness of the windowpane told me it was Gabriel.

He moved silently around the bed, positioned an old wooden chair next to me, and sat down. He studied my face and my expression before finally sighing and leaning in closer. With his eyes fixed on mine, he gently placed his fingers against my collarbone. I was intrigued by the look of wonder on his glorious face when he felt the cold chain resting against my skin and I watched him tentatively play with it for a moment before gradually pulling it upward. Only then did he remove his gaze from my own, rolling his head slightly and glancing down.

He lifted the ring, which was threaded through the chain, and placed it in his palm. I watched him as he gaped at the crystal sphere so prominently set at the center of the gold circle. It felt like an eternity before his eyes fell back to my own. He played with the ring lightly in his fingertips, while his stare flipped through the pages of my story, seeking out the chapter that held the answers he seemed to have lost.

Licking his thumb, he wiped the blood away from my stained mouth. Lowering his face to mine, he kissed my top lip, so tenderly it felt like little fairies dancing.

“We have a lot to talk about when you are ready.” He smiled.

Now, strangely contented, I let myself float back into the darkness, and slept.

THREE

A
BRIGHT LIGHT FILLED THE BEDROOM
and I began to stir. Rays of winter sunlight shimmered against the window, accompanied by a crisp breeze sneaking in where it was slightly open. I sat up—straight up. I couldn’t remember where I was or how long I had been here. I tried to recall what had happened to me, but my head was foggy. I hadn’t died; I knew that.

My arm! I pulled my elbow from under the sheets, but it was fine, my skin smooth and pale as always. I twisted my body around to step out of the bed. My jacket and ballet flats had been placed neatly on a chair in the corner.

Not wanting to make a sound, I tiptoed to the edge of the room as quickly as I could. I had to concentrate hard, as my legs struggled to find the strength to keep me upright. As I bent to grab my shoes, a sudden, sharp pain hit me below my neck. I reached and felt a bandage taped onto my skin. Without much thought I swiftly yanked it off, frowning as the tape tugged. I found a mirror and looked over my shoulder to see a faint mark running across it where my broken skin had been stitched back together.

Then I remembered that I had been shot.

More carefully this time, I pulled my jacket over the torn top I still had on and dipped my toes into the muddied flats. Great—the massive blood stain on my jacket was a surefire way to draw attention. Gently, I peeled it back off and ran my fingers through my hair, which was also splattered in dried blood. Brilliant. I reached for the spare hair tie that lived on my wrist and flipped my blond hair into a giant bun.

Then it hit me. Gabriel. The subject of my dreams, my thoughts; he was here. We were here together.

I struggled out of the bedroom and hobbled across the landing, willing my legs to wake up. I made my way down the winding staircase but slammed to a halt when I got to the living room and three hugely surprised Vampires spun around and bared their fangs at me, with a ferocious hissing noise. I stepped back, feeling as though I had disturbed a nest of sleeping dragons, trying not to give them any more reasons to harm me. But instinct kicked in and I flung myself as fast as I could in the opposite direction, charging through a long hallway and out of a large—and luckily for me—open front door.

I tripped as I ran through and toppled to the ground. I rushed to regain my balance, pushing off the concrete with my palms, when a hand wrapped around my arm and pulled me up. I didn’t dare look; instead I screwed up my eyes and started throwing my fists wildly into the air. I’d never had much coordination; today, it seemed, was no different.

He took me by the waist with his left hand and moved his right from off my arm, placing it across my back. I still couldn’t bring myself to open my eyes and I squeezed them tightly shut.

“Hey, hey … look at me.” I recognized Gabriel’s voice. “Francesca, it’s me.”

Reassured, I slowly allowed my eyes to open, and there he was, clutching me tightly. I hadn’t imagined him; he was with me.

“We have to go, there are Vampires inside—they’ll kill us!”

Spurring into action, I tried to grab him by the hand and hurry him away from the danger. He didn’t move.

“The Vampires in this house won’t hurt you. Let me take you back inside, please.”

I flashed him a puzzled look. It took a few moments for me to remember Jonah and these escaped Second Generation Vampires that he had told me about. Still, common sense was telling me to get far away from this house. Going back inside was the last thing I wanted to do. “Let’s maybe just stay here.…” I tried to sound calm. I eyed a shiny Range Rover Sport that sat in the driveway.

“I don’t want you out here, your shoulder isn’t healed yet and the smell might attract unwanted visitors.”

I looked at him blankly; then I understood. “Oh, right…” I lifted his hand with mine and rested it flat on my chest.

He returned my gaze, bewildered, as I slid his hand under my shirt, past my collarbone, and over my shoulder, where he had removed the bullet.

Startled, he withdrew his hand and reached for my wrist; sliding up my sleeve in one swift motion, he stared down. No mark, no Vampire bite, no bruise; nothing. He rushed to my other arm and repeated the action, making sure that he was not mistaken.

“How long have I been out for?” I asked.

His brow dipped in apprehension as he replied, “You’ve been resting a few days now.”

“I didn’t die, you kept my heart beating,” I mused aloud.

“The bullet didn’t hit any arteries or bones. You were lucky,” he said. “But where are your stitches? I bathed your skin last night … they were there and now they’re gone!”

“I only need a few days to heal. It’s all right.” Now I found myself comforting him.

“How are you even here?” he asked.

“I could ask you the same thing. I’ve known you before. I don’t know when you and I were together, but I believe it was a long time ago indeed. And yet, it doesn’t seem that you have suffered from the ages.”

His lower lip quivered; he seemed sad. I waited, letting him contemplate, but he didn’t answer my question. “Let’s go inside, we can sit in the gardens at the back,” was all he said.

Entwining my hand with his, as though it was the most natural thing in the world, he led me back through the country house. For now, at least, it seemed empty of Vampires. He guided me through the kitchen to the garden outside, where he sat me down on a cushioned rattan chair in front of the French doors. He made his way back inside the kitchen and returned with a jug of chilled lemonade and two glasses, pouring one for me.

I took a sip. It was real, fresh lemonade, nothing quite like it. The crisp, bitter flavor danced on my taste buds with a clean, dry finish.

The aroma filled my senses and, against my wishes, memories began to cascade in.

My eyelids started to flutter rapidly as my vision began to blur. I was no longer sitting on the patio with Gabriel. Instead, I was watching myself with him, munching from a picnic on a beautiful green, grassy verge, overlooking a lake. Wearing an almost military-style outfit, complete with a long velvet navy jacket, Gabriel looked incredibly handsome. Where this had been, I didn’t know—when it had been, I could only assume was a very long time ago.

The sun was high and I could almost taste the summertime. We were clinking our glasses together and sipping the same lemonade. I was laughing at something he had said, and blushing. I hadn’t watched this scene play out before; but there it was, within reach.

I moved my fingertips toward the image and the air seemed to undulate, like a pebble skimming over water, creating ripples before my eyes. The dreams and visions I had started to make sense. But I still hadn’t put the pieces together. It was so frustrating, not knowing if what I was seeing was a true memory or merely my imagination. Like the past, which had become distorted and cloudy, my mind was in shadow, unable to separate reality from dream.

I turned my attention to the bushes farther back; something was rustling in among the leaves, spying on Gabriel and me together. Slowly, I moved my focus over to the disturbance. There was a young man holding his knees to his chest, his face hidden. I could only see him from behind; his shoulder-length hair was tied in a low ponytail behind his neck. His hands shook. My eyes were drawn to a large gold sovereign ring. I moved toward him, but came to an abrupt stop. It was as though I had hit an invisible wall.

Something was wrong.

The air seemed to pop and then it was black, empty: a void. The sun was no longer shining, the warmth of the light breeze had vanished, and darkness engulfed me. I froze, too terrified to move.

Thunder pounded through the stillness; something was approaching and fast. I searched for Gabriel and me, but everything about the memory vanished. Just as quickly as it had come, it disappeared.

Out of the nothingness, the creature stepped forward. The sight of me ignited the bonfires that burst from his globes as though he was envisioning the world aflame. I was able to see his stained face. He tilted his head ever so slightly, considering me.

I came back to my body. My hands were ghost-like in front of me. I felt my fists clench defensively, shaking uncontrollably as the creature snarled, bearing his fangs.

And he wasn’t alone.

The thunderous noise underfoot had stopped, replaced with high-pitched squawks, piercing my hearing and surrounding me.

They were watching.

My gaze traced the quill-shaped lines of black ink that ran across his face. He had a hypertrophic scar stamped across his glabella, a spiral that coiled in the middle and branched out above the brow of his left eye.

He extended his arm and, with his clawed finger, signaled for me to move closer. I felt odd, compelled to do as he bid.

“Francesca!”

The darkness broke apart, cracks of light separating the black.

His burning flames extinguished, and he dissipated.

The fragments of light hung in the air until I heard my name again. With the second strike, they bounced and further shattered, becoming tiny shards. In one final swift movement, they disappeared.

I was back.

I looked down at my hand, scrunched into a tight ball. I’d caved in the lemonade glass, sharp pieces gouging into my skin.

“Francesca! Francesca!” Hearing Gabriel’s voice was comforting. It soothed me until I barely felt the glass. “I’m here,” he whispered more calmly, bringing his lips to my cheek. His voice, like a song, traveled through me.