Sepia and Silver (Tragic Silence Book 3) Page 32

  He looked up, checking on Erik’s progress. “They are gone,” he announced. “It is a good thing for them not to see you like this.”

  He let go of me, as though unsure of how much physical contact should be allowed. But then he frowned, leaning in closer, inspecting me with newfound interest. He reached to my collar, pulling it away a little so my scar was exposed, and felt it. The touch was gentle, but I still drew in a sharp breath of pain. Apa quickly snatched my hands and checked my nails, now even bluer.

  His expression tightened with certainty.

  “Come,” he ordered, taking hold of my wrist. I gasped with surprise as he led me through the snow towards where Erik had been standing. When we reached the mausoleum, the door swung wide on its own accord, and he ushered me inside before bolting it behind us.

  I was immediately cast into absolute darkness; stale air rushed up my nose and made me cough violently. But I barely had time to recover before we were descending a curving staircase, down into the depths of the earth.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded.

  “Keeping you safe,” he replied.

  “Safe from what?”

  “Yourself.”

  “What? Wait, I don’t understand!”

  My eyes had adjusted to the low light by now, and I watched as Apa opened another door, which he in turn pulled me through. Once again, he shut it securely, before finally releasing me.

  I wasted no time in backing away, suddenly uneasy. I went to reach for the revolver, just in case, but then remembered with a stab of dismay he’d knocked it from me.

  He seemed aware of my uncertainty, because he made no move to follow me, only held out his hands as though trying to calm a scared animal.

  “Éva, do not fear me,” he said gently. “Please. I would never hurt you.”

  My hips hit something. I glanced around, seeing it was an exposed stone sarcophagus in the middle of the floor. I instantly darted behind it.

  “Why have you brought me here?” I asked.

  “Because the final transformation is near,” he said. “That is what I was examining you for. All the signs are present. It will not be long now. And I will help you.”

  Dread flooded my body. So that was why I had needed so much blood; why my powers had heightened. The end was coming.

  My hand flew to my locket, conscious of the Hungarian soil still contained inside it. Then I looked at my surroundings to gauge whether there were any possible exits. My heart sank when I found none, but a part of me still expressed silent wonder at the sheer grandeur of the crypt in which I stood. The room was completely circular, with a domed ceiling, the walls lined with small doors behind which I knew coffins lay. The only sign of decay in here was a tiny hole which had worn through overhead, casting a thin beam of light through the dusty air.

  Just off to the side, I noticed a bulky shape, and swallowed when I recognised it as a body, thin and as pale as ivory. Most of it was covered by a thin blanket, but I saw blonde ringlets splayed across the floor.

  Having been around death for so long, such a notion did not disgust me. That woman had to be my father’s last victim. And I recalled James telling me it was a typical mannerism of many demons to take up residence in places like this.

  Apa slowly walked closer. I jumped with nerves, but he gave me a placating look which urged me to remain still, until we were facing each other directly, separated only by the sarcophagus. He motioned at it wordlessly. I let my eyes wander to where he was indicating, and found a name chiselled into the stone, illuminated by the streaming light.

  Here Lies

  MIRRIAM TÁKACS

  1858-1879

  A Rare Beauty Who Blessed All Who Knew Her,

  She Was Stolen By The Shadows

  To Sit Among The Angels

  My memory ran wild, bringing the awful sound of raining blood; the screams of Hattyúpatak’s Final Purge; the pain of a lifetime of dreadful dreams. The conversation I had heard during my convalescence swam back: Zíta had known who that demon had been, and Erik swore her to secrecy about it.

  I glared at Apa with overwhelming conviction. I took in his long black nails, remembering how every single one of the demons from that night had shared the same trait.

  Lidérc, I thought. That was what Zíta said the dark ones were. The flying bringers of nightmares.

  “It was you,” I breathed, stepping back. “It was you who killed her!”

  Apa’s jaw clenched, laying a hand over the epitaph with a tenderness that surprised me.

  “Not by choice, Éva.”

  “How can you say that?” I snapped. “You were responsible for her death!”

  “No,” he said firmly. “Her blood will forever lie on the hands of another man.”

  He looked at me. “Listen, I adored your mother. I loved her more than any words can ever say. It tore me apart when I realised what I had done; when I realised I could never be a part of your life because of it!”

  I faltered, stunned by the passion in his voice. “But... you did come back. That night in the forest...”

  “I hoped I might find some measure of forgiveness by watching over you,” he said. “I sensed that Izcacus was nearby, and when I found him attacking you, I did what any father would have done. I was distraught when I realised I was too late.”

  “Was that why you wrote to me?” I asked.

  “Yes. I found your address in England from your previous correspondence. I did not wish to reveal my nature to you; I was afraid you would shun me.” He sighed, as though the words bore the weight of the world. “But I hoped my survival alone would be enough to entice you home. It was all a gentle attempt to get you here to me. Then I could turn you back into a human.”

  I brought a hand to my chest. I couldn’t believe he’d planned this all along; made me his absolute priority since before he’d even swung that axe at my turner’s neck.

  It fleetingly occurred to me that, in a way, it would make more sense for him to leave me be. Now I was in my homeland, if the transformation was completed and I became an Izcacus myself, I would be immortal, unable to die naturally – just like my father. He had the choice to keep me forever, have me as an immortal daughter, to compensate for all the time we’d lost. I felt no doubt, looking into his imploring eyes, that he would care for me and help me if such an event occurred. He would never abandon or harm me. I would be safe with him.

  But then my mind engulfed me with images of my new family. Before me, I saw my beloved Benjamin, with our sweet little son in his arms. I imagined caressing their faces; bringing my lips to my husband’s. I would never be the same; never be their wife and mother again if I let this happen.

  Benjamin slowly transformed into James. I gazed at him, Jack Wotton, remembering all the hell he had put me through. But in the end, it was he who had saved me. And both my treasured men had urged me to find a full vampire in Buda-Pesth, to reverse everything which befell me.

  I knew I would no longer be the sweet innocent girl from before; I had been seized and changed into a completely new being. But now the chance of redemption was here, in the form of my old saviour. I would be a fool not to take it.

  I smiled gently. “I... have something to tell you, too.”

  Apa cocked his head slightly to one side. “What is it?”

  I pulled off my headscarf and bundled it into my pocket; then reached over so my hand lay atop his.

  “You have a grandson.”

  He gasped, the corners of his mouth turning up in pleasure. “How old is he?”

  “Six months,” I replied. “His name is Norman Henry Jones.”

  The two of us smiled together, and I felt walls slowly beginning to fall away. True, I had harboured resentment towards this man; curiosity that he had always been absent, only to become such an invisibly integral part of my new life. But none of it had been his fault. I understood that with more sincerity than I could voice.

  I turned my eyes back to my Anya’s resting place, tracing th
e letters of her name with my finger.

  At that moment, something broke inside me.

  My eyes turned red; entire vision suddenly shaking. I stumbled onto the floor with a cry of agony. It seared through every muscle and blood vessel in my body, drawing itself around the thin scar on my neck. Then it flooded to my shoulder blades, and I felt two points of intense pain, pushing against my skin and bone, as though something was trying to burst out.

  Wings, I realised. It’s time.

  Apa shouted, leaping across the sarcophagus. I convulsed fiercely as he pulled me into his lap. I screamed, feeling the venom running through me like liquid fire, beginning to work its influence. It was unbearable; tears seeped uncontrollably out of my eyes. I grew faint, as though a corset was compressing ever-tighter around me.

  “Give me your wrist!” I distantly heard Apa snapping.

  Then he grabbed my arm, tore back my coat, and sank his teeth into the soft skin. I yelled in panic, trying to pull away, but his will pinned me so I couldn’t move.

  I was alarmed when he started sucking, but even more so as I sensed it was not blood he drained. The scorching venom instantly swarmed towards him, from every single point in my limbs. He detached himself for long enough to spit it aside before returning to the work.

  As he carried on, I became aware of warmth slowly coming into my body. My eyes stopped hurting; the sting of the scar upon my neck died down to nothing. With one final draw, the pounding ceased, and I collapsed with exhaustion. No wings erupted out of my back.

  Apa wiped his lips on his sleeve and pressed tightly over my wound. With his other arm, he manoeuvred me closer, so I was against his chest like a babe. I didn’t resist; too weak from the ordeal. My breathing was ragged, as though I had just run for miles.

  But then I realised, with a jolt of shock, that I felt no urge for blood. Like a switch had been flicked, there was absolutely nothing.

  “Éva?” Apa whispered, brushing my hair away from my mouth. “Éva, can you hear me?”

  I gave a tiny nod, and he let out a sigh of relief, bending his face over mine. He kissed my forehead tenderly and then rested his cheek against it. He felt absolutely freezing now; even more so than before.

  And I realised, with absolute certainty, it was because he had brought me back. My heart beat steadily in my chest with new vigour, sending heat to every part of me. There was no need for cold anymore, for I was no longer a juvenile, and I was not a demon.

  “Human?” I mumbled.

  He nodded awkwardly, not relinquishing his grip for a moment. “It will be alright now, sweet girl. I promise.”

  His body trembled, and I was a little surprised when I felt his tears falling onto my face. But I allowed myself to cry too, overcome by everything that had happened.

  The horrors I’d passed would never leave me. No matter how much time went by, I was now forever scarred by everything I’d seen and done. I thought of all the people I’d hurt; the lies I had lived; the way I had allowed evil to get its hooks into me. But for the first in what felt like forever, I was confident that there was a small part of me still intact; able to be me and who I was.

  I had left another girl behind me this night. Before long, I knew my family would be coming across the sea; I would be reunited with them at last, and we would begin anew. We would grow old together, unburdened by the darkness of our pasts. There was an end in sight, and I smiled to myself, completely unafraid of this death. It would not cast us into oblivion, but herald the start of a new dawn.

  With shaky fingers, I fumbled with the catch on my locket, and opened it, letting the Hungarian earth spill onto the floor. Out the corner of my eye, I watched it mingle with the venom which had been forced from me. There was no need for it anymore.

  The corrupting taint had not consumed me. My innermost being, Éva, was still very much alive, because of him. I turned my attention to my father, laying a hand on his shoulder in gratitude. He stroked it caringly, the talons scraping along my skin, but I didn’t flinch, and grinned as he kissed my head again, comforted once more in the arms of my angel.

  CHAPTER XXXVI

  I didn’t realise I had fallen asleep until I heard the sound of birdsong somewhere overhead. I stirred, rubbing my eyes wearily, and sat up, resting my back against the sarcophagus. Some kind of material fell off me as I moved.

  I quickly looked around. “Apa?”

  But there was no answer. Upon inspection of the crypt, I was completely alone. Even the body in the corner was gone, and I noticed the thing which had been covering me was actually the blanket which I’d seen lying over her. I went to check the other room, but then realised the light coming through from overhead had changed: it was no longer the soft glow of lamps, but a harsh glare which I instantly recognised as the sun.

  I’d never been around James in the daytime, so I had no idea of where demons went or what they did when the hours of darkness ceased. But I had a feeling that my father would not be here for me to see until dusk.

  I eased myself to my feet, brushing down the front of my dress. The intense seizure of coming of age had shaken my hair loose, leaving it in a massive tangle. I pulled it around and began combing it through with my fingers.

  But then I suddenly remembered everything that had happened before I’d slipped into slumber, and turned my hand over so my wrist was visible.

  A scrap of grey fabric, which I recognised as being from Apa’s waistcoat, had been bound around it with a secure knot. I managed to get my fingertip underneath and lifted it just enough to peer at my skin. And, sure enough, there was a thin red line there, directly atop my vein.

  I gasped, recalling what he’d done, and my attention shot to the floor. A few feet away lay a pile of viscous black liquid. Alarmed at how much of it there was, I crouched down and curiously touched it. It was oddly warm, even after lying on the freezing stone for hours, and stuck to me like glue. To see it properly for the first time, I expressed silent shock that it had been coursing through my veins for two years.

  Deciding I’d had enough of the awful substance to last a lifetime, I wiped it off on my skirt and moved away, instead unbuttoning my collar to feel the scar on my neck. The area had felt overwhelmingly tender yesterday, which I supposed had marked the beginning of the final transformation, but now I was barely aware of it. I caught a glimpse of the scratch on my finger where I’d accidentally sliced it with my teeth. It was already healing over – and even though it was my own blood, I felt no urge to bring it to my mouth. Frowning, I anxiously ran my tongue over my incisors, and it was not cut. All of a sudden, they were much blunter.

  A relieved laugh escaped me in a breathy gasp, and I placed my hands to my chest, unable to believe it. I had been too exhausted the night before to really appreciate the fact that Apa really had done it. He had turned me back; restored my humanity. Just like he always intended to do.

  I wished he was still here so I could thank him, but appreciated it would not be possible, and I knew I needed to return to the inn. They would have undoubtedly noticed that I had not come back for the night. Thinking quickly, I decided to tell them I had stayed with an old friend at short notice, which I reasoned was not far from the truth.

  So I finished tidying my hair and wove it into a single braid down my back. Then I tied my headscarf in place and unbolted the heavy door, making my way up the staircase. When I stepped out of the mausoleum into the morning, I screwed my eyes shut as the winter light rebounded mercilessly off the virgin snow. But when I eased them open again, it didn’t hurt me as piercingly as I knew it should have. If anything, it was not merely bearable, but only slightly uncomfortable.

  Smiling broadly to myself, I eased my scarf back a little so it didn’t form as much of a visor over my face. I didn’t care that it was not deemed proper for a girl to take too much sun. I had forgotten what it was like to stand in it with no fear.

  After I’d adjusted to the brightness, I set off towards the gates, barely finding the way since the snowf
all had effectively concealed Erik’s footprints. But when I emerged into the tangle of streets, the ground became much easier to navigate, and I was seized by a sudden idea. I stopped a passer-by, asking for directions, and they kindly advised me to head north. I obeyed, soon finding myself outside a flower shop. My decision made, I went inside and purchased a small bouquet of red roses, bound humbly with a length of string. Then I returned the way I had come, following my own path back to the crypt, where I laid the blooms atop the sarcophagus.

  I kissed my fingers and pressed them to the epitaph.

  “Szeretlek, Anya,” I whispered. I love you, Mother.

  *

  The next few weeks passed by amid a continuous cycle of snow and sun. I basked in it, choosing to spend my time exploring Buda-Pesth. I found myself feeling a little morose at the idea that I would never fly again, but I reasoned it was a small price to pay for having my life returned to me. I felt as though a weight as heavy as the entire world had been lifted from my shoulders. For the first time, there was not an ounce of trepidation in me.

  I found my way around quickly enough, surviving well on the money Benjamin had provided. I became on first-name terms with the innkeepers, who I learned had originally come from Hattyúpatak themselves. However, they did not speak of the horrors which befell the village near two decades ago, so I kept quiet about it, supposing they’d left before Alexander returned to complete his work. I was overjoyed though, when they revealed to me that their ties to my old home meant they were in contact with Erik.

  I spent some time in my room after the revelation, planning out my story. It fleetingly occurred to me that I was acting in a similar way to James: preparing my alibi in meticulous detail, so no suspicion could rain down upon me. Once again, I felt a stab of guilt as I recalled everything which had led me to this moment. I glanced at my hands, half-expecting them to be concealed beneath a coating of blood.