Prophecy: Child of Light (15 page)

She tried to sit up, but found that she couldn’t move her hands. She looked at her left hand and attempted to lift it off the table but it wouldn’t shift. In desperation, she tried to move her ankles and found they were stuck too. A chill of fear swept through her. It was as though she was being restrained but couldn’t see the bonds.

“The boy can see her.” The tall witch cast a glance at the door.

“Likes her.”

“Has tasted her.”

She felt a finger run over the marks on her throat and furrowed her brows. She tried to move away from it and desperately wriggled. There was something soothing about their voices as they continued to talk and she began to focus on them, shutting out the fear that was engulfing her and the spots of searing pain that began to burn deeper at her shoulders and over her chest and stomach.

“Their paths are entwined.”

“Now.”

“Forever.”

Whose paths? Were they talking about Valentine and her? They said he had tasted her, and that he liked her and could see her. See her how? There had to be a deeper meaning to it than just being able to physically see her. Was it because of the blood he had taken from her? Were they talking about the vision he’d had?

“It is a good match.” The thin witch’s hands began to get closer to her, still drawing the invisible symbols in the air.

“He will protect her.” The short one’s hands edged towards her, matching the descent of the thin one’s.

“Save her.” The young one smiled at her and brought her hands down to hover over her chest. She craned her neck to see what was happening as the witch continued to draw symbols.

“Like she will save him.” They all spoke at once and fiery pain ripped through her body as their fingers touched her, moving in a pattern against her skin and searing her.

The thin one’s hands were marking her shoulders and she could feel the short one touching her stomach while the youngest witch drew upon her chest. Prophecy could see faint marks appearing as the witch’s hand moved faster and faster until it was almost a blur.

She felt numb when all the pain focused on where their hands were touching her and she screwed her eyes shut as it began to intensify, making the points where they were in contact with her feel as though someone was pushing a hot poker into her flesh.

She arched off the table, flung her head back and screamed.

* * * *

V
alentine ran to the door the moment he head her scream and pounded it with his fists. She sounded petrified, in pain, and he had to get to her. He banged on the ice, hitting it with everything he had and growling when it didn’t break.

“Prophecy!”

He was thrown away from the door by some invisible force and reacted quickly when his senses screamed danger at him. He flipped backwards over the cold fire, narrowly avoiding it and coming to land gracefully on the other side of it on one knee and with one hand pressing into the floor.

He looked up the instant the door opened and stood, ready to fight if he had to.

It was Prophecy.

She looked white as snow against her black clothing, her body trembling as she held herself tightly, and he knew it wasn’t the cold that had done this to her. It was the witches. He went to attack them when they appeared behind Prophecy but the youngest one stopped him dead in his tracks by simply holding her hand up.

“We did not harm her,” the thin one said.

“She will be stronger,” the short one continued.

“Stronger now than ever,” the youngest witch finished.

“Prophecy?” He looked at her.

She was shaking badly, her eyes fixed on the fire in a distant stare and her arms crossed over her chest, her hands gripping her shoulders. He went to move closer to her but she backed away, her eyes wide when she finally looked at him. She blinked rapidly and furrowed her brows.

“What did you do to her?” He didn’t hide his anger as he looked at the three witches who were standing behind Prophecy.

They didn’t answer him either. They were more interested in Prophecy.

She had turned to face them, her body still shivering and her lips as ashen as her cheeks. It made her red hair look like blood against white tiles and an image of the nightclub bathroom flashed in front of his eyes. He wanted to lick his lips as he remembered the sight of Prophecy’s mouth covered in blood. He had to get some food, and not just for himself. Whatever they had done to her, she looked like she needed blood in order to speed her recovery. He would take her back to the hotel and make sure she was asleep before heading out to get supplies. Shaking his head, he focused on the witches and what they were telling Prophecy.

“In two nights, come to see us.”

“When the moon is fat.” The short witch moved to the steps.

“Then the key will be ready.”

He saw Prophecy nod and stepped to one side when she began to move, giving her room to walk past him without upsetting her any further. He glared at the witches and they all smiled at him as though nothing had happened. He shouldn’t have let her go in alone. He should have gone with her or not let her go at all.

But it hadn’t been his decision to make.

He walked in silence behind her. She quietly descended the stairs, her arms still wrapped protectively around herself. When they reached the bottom, he removed his jacket and placed it around her shoulders. She smiled weakly but didn’t say anything. She looked too drained to speak.

He didn’t speak either as he walked with her back to the hotel, letting her go at her own pace. She continually stared at the floor and held herself, showing no sign of even knowing that he was there let alone wanting to talk to him. When he looked up to see the sign of the hotel, he was silently thankful. She had clearly been through a lot tonight and was going to need to rest. There were only another three hours until sunrise, but something told him that she’d be asleep long before it came.

He held each door open for her as they made their way back to their suite and took his jacket from her shoulders when she finally came to a halt in front of her bed.

“Do you want me to?” He intimated her shirt and she shrank away from him, shaking her head. She sat down on the edge of the bed and curled up. “You need blood. I shall go and get some for you.”

She shook her head again, swallowed hard and opened her mouth. “I just... I want to sleep now.”

“I understand. Get some rest,” he said.

She crawled further up onto the bed and pulled the covers over her without taking her clothes off.

He looked at her feet. She hadn’t even taken her boots off. He didn’t notice what he was doing until her boots were in his hands and then he looked at them for a moment before placing them down at the foot of her bed. He wanted her to be comfortable. That’s all it was. She’d suffered some kind of trauma in that room, bad enough that she didn’t want to talk about it, and it had awoken a desire in him to look after her.

She seemed so small and weak, like Mathias had thought on first meeting her. She looked as though every ounce of strength had been drained from her.

He walked over to the chair in the corner of her room and put his jacket down over the back of it. Sitting down, his eyes fixed on Prophecy when she shifted on the bed.

He would wait a few minutes to make sure she was sound asleep and then he would go to retrieve some blood for them both. It wouldn’t take him long and then he could return to this place where he could easily see her without being too close to her. He could feed while keeping an eye on her. He wouldn’t move from this spot all night or all day.

He would wait here for as long as it took her to get the rest she needed.

When she finally awoke, he would be here. He would be the first thing she’d see and she would know that she hadn’t been alone.

She would know that he’d been watching over her.

V
alentine watched Prophecy’s eyelids flutter and her nose wrinkle up. He could feel the sun setting outside. He managed a smile when she opened her eyes and looked at him. He was leaning back in the armchair, his elbows resting on the arms and his hands together with his fingers pressing into each other and his palms apart.

She frowned and cleared her throat. He flicked the switch on the table lamp beside him so he could get a better look at her and she squinted as the light filled the room. She was still paler than normal and her eyes still betrayed how tired she was even as she sat up.

“I shall get you some blood,” he said and stood. He went to the mini bar in the other room. The little bottles of water and alcohol now sat on the counter above it, discarded in favour of keeping the blood chilled. He opened the door and took out one of the packs of blood he’d got last night from one of the Paris sources.

He poured its contents into a tall glass and took it to her. She would need more than just a glass to feed her properly, but he didn’t want to rush her. She had refused his offer of blood last night. There was a chance she would refuse him again if he offered her more than she could stomach. He’d be satisfied if she only had a sip. Even a sip of human blood could go a long way to giving a body the strength it needed to heal.

He held the glass out to her. She was now sat on the edge of the bed and when she took it from him, he moved back to his chair and sat down.

She looked at the blood and then closed her eyes and drank. She was hungry, he could see that, but she wasn’t drinking it as swiftly as she’d done in Oxford.

When the glass was empty, she glanced at him.

“Would you like more?” he said but she shook her head.

She looked terrible.

He tried to think of some way to make her feel better again. The blood clearly wasn’t going to have the effect he desired. Although it would help her body heal, it would do nothing for her mind. She blinked and when she opened her eyes again, they were fixed on the window behind him.

She longed to go out. It was written in the way she was staring at the curtain, as though she could see straight past it to the night falling on the other side.

He considered what he was about to suggest. Experience told him that it was too dangerous to leave the hotel without a good reason. Someone associated with the seven was likely to see them and he was certain that it had been the hunter who had followed them when they’d first arrived.

He looked at her while she continued to stare at the window and ignored all the warnings that were ringing through his head.

“Would you like to go out? I mean...” He stumbled on the words when her eyes moved to look at him, her lips curving slightly at his suggestion. “Would you like me to show you Paris?”

She nodded, her smile increasing. It felt good to see it. It seemed to bring a hint of colour to her ashen cheeks and her eyes looked brighter.

“Get dressed and I will take you anywhere you want to go.” He stood and walked to the door, closing it behind him and giving her some privacy as he went to his own room. He was sure that this would turn out to be a mistake, but he had to do something to get some life back into her and take her mind off whatever it was that was plaguing her.

Putting his jacket on, he waited for her while he drank some blood, taking the edge off the hunger that was beginning to creep in. He never had been one to gorge himself. He always preferred to be just the right side of hungry. Not enough that he couldn’t control himself, but enough that his senses were sharper and more likely to detect humans in places they shouldn’t really be at night. Cemeteries, parks and open industrial areas were all a favourite haunt of vampires and therefore vampire hunters. His hunger not only made them easier to detect, but it made him want the kill more.

He looked up as the twin doors to Prophecy’s room opened. She was dressed in black again. Her boots were in place, hidden beneath the baggy bottoms of her combats and she had put on the only other black shirt he’d been able to find for her. It was a little tight, but it suited her, and it meant she’d blend in more. All women’s clothing seemed to be either tight or overly revealing these days. Cornelius had told him he was too old fashioned and needed to see the advantage of their restrictive clothing. Apparently, it gave you something to look at before you decided to kill them. All he saw when he looked at humans was his next meal or a potential problem. There was no attraction.

He smiled at the same time Prophecy did. She looked self-conscious and he realised that he’d been staring at her. He dragged his eyes away and headed for the door. Opening it, he checked that the do not disturb sign was still in place. The maids were probably becoming annoyed by the fact that they weren’t allowed to tidy the suite, but he didn’t want them coming in while he and Prophecy were sleeping and vulnerable, and it certainly wouldn’t do to have them discover the blood stained glasses or the packs in the refrigerator. He waited for Prophecy to pass him before closing the door.

Turning to face her, he began to walk down the corridor towards the lifts.

It would be good to get her mind off things, if only for a short while.

* * * *

P
rophecy’s eyes were wide as she surveyed the city stretching out below them, a mass of twinkling lights in varying hues of yellow with different intensities. Valentine looked away from her and at their surroundings. There were buildings that stood out from the rest, landmarks that were lit by bright spotlights. He could see the church of Sacré Coeur in the distance to his right and the Arc De Triomph directly in front of him. Between the arch and where they were standing, there was a long row of fountains. Their water carried the light as they danced in the darkness.

When his eyes fell to rest on Prophecy again, she was still staring at the city, drinking in the sight of it. She looked much better. Her eyes were bright and her lips were curved into a permanent smile. Even her skin had more colour.

He couldn’t get over how fascinated she was by what she could see. They had already seen the Arc De Triomph close up. She’d watched the cars whizzing around it, their taillights streaking through the night as they hurried to unknown destinations. They’d walked down from the arch to the Eiffel Tower, and she’d insisted that they go up it. He had paid the entrance fee and let her choose her floor. She’d mumbled something about heights and had chosen the first.