Condemned

THE CONDEMNED SERIES 2022

Felix Marlowe-Cain

CONDEMNED

ONE

Sharp, cold air. Lungs heaving. A head filled with fog. Adrenaline coursed through my blood singing a song of desperation. The predator stalked… And I, the prey, ran for my life. Pavement beneath my feet. Icy. Deadly. Cars upon a crowded road. The horns blaring, the engines revving. My ears rang with every note of city life. So much pain.

Pale, lithe fingers were gripped tight around my wrist as I was pulled - dragged - ever onward. A girl ran just ahead of me, knocking aside pedestrians with no care for their shouts of protest. Short and curvy, she was crowned with thick ginger curls and dressed in a knee-length patchwork skirt and a blue denim jacket; muddy, torn on the left elbow. She glanced back, large green eyes behind thick glasses were wide with horror as she fixated on something - someone - over my shoulder. “Hurry!” she all but screamed into the night.

A dark presence clawed at my back, the very nature of its power draining what little strength I had left. It snapped at my heels as it gave chase -

The root of a barren tree caught on my foot. I tripped, falling hands first into wet mud. The darkness grew thicker. I choked upon it! There was no time; no time to stumble, no time to stop. I scrambled back onto my feet and, ignoring the protest of an injured leg, I gathered my thick silk skirts and lifted them enough to run.

Tortured screams shattered the night. The forest glowed with flame. Blood and ash lent stench to the air. Somewhere, deep into the blackened trees, I heard the ceaseless crying of an infant. The horror of war… ever unchanging.

A hellish path was laid before my feet, one I was destined to walk, a fate… a death… I could not deny. Every fibre of my existence pulled me to take it. Even the gravest of mortal peril could not dissuade me. Purpose in every footfall. Assurance in every haggard breath.

Rushing water stained red. The river was piled high with the dead. Armoured soldiers and their victims caught in the crossfire. Bloodied, broken beyond repair; men, women and children. A bridge arched over the watery grave. Stone…

...Wet and cold beneath my hand. I paused, pulling my wrist from the girl’s grasp so that I might catch myself on the low wall and face into winter’s wind, as yet untainted by the pollution of city fumes. My hair was whipped back. I gasped down a precious lungful. Eyes wide with fright, I found myself staring down into water… black in the night, twinkling with the shimmer of artificial lights.

I was in such agony! Wrists, shoulders, back… a terrible burning ache. Misery stifled the will to go on. I fought the urge to scream, to cry, to beat my fists upon the stone. I was broken...

I shut my eyes tight, my hand coming up to grasp my pounding head. Thoughts were racing in my skull. Fragmented memories clashed, blurring the lines between what was now and then. Disorientation. Dizziness… What? Where? Who? Questions demanded answers!

“Robyn!” The girl was back, grasping my shoulder, pulling at my arm. “We mustn’t stop! We have to go. Now!” Her desperate shriek was an explosion of pain. I pushed her away. I needed something to hold onto. Something, anything. Just a shred of familiarity.

The darkness grew closer. It’s talons seemed to wrap around my throat. I turned, looking for it, seeking to recognise my enemy. But the face was either lost in the crowds, or not one I knew to fear.

“Robyn!” The girl was pulling at me again. “Robyn, please!”

I turned on the spot. My eyes flitted from one thing to the next as I took in the shape of the city. Buildings flanked the mighty riverbanks as if trying to cage and claim it’s glory. A wheel towered over the water. Another turn. A statue. A station. A clock that pierced the starless sky. A flash of recognition burst through the fog. Words came crashing across my mind giving name to the world I stood in. ‘Big Ben’. Westminster. London.

I let the girl reclaim my wrist with another frantic exclamation. Reluctantly I tore my gaze from the iconic clock and followed her in her haste. London. I knew this place. I knew this city. A spider of thought mapped the roads and streets like a web in my mind. We crossed the bridge, heading towards the large wheel. “This way…” I pulled her back, changing our direction abruptly and instead leading her. Down another crowded street, then turning onto something narrow, crooked, old buildings with stories in every brick -

I rushed through unfamiliar allies, ducking back, turning, skidding out of the way of fights I had no chance of surviving. This was not my battle. This was not my war! Figures without faces. Shadows against flames. I could make none of them out. Their magic was too hot, too much. It crackled, buzzed, as spells barely missed me! Anger stirred with anxiety. Exhausted tears swelled in my eyes. Enough! Please enough!

How long had the village stood only to burn now? What history might be lost to the ash? Impossible creatures roamed every narrow street. They clashed fist, claw and fang against beings that should never have dared tread this earth! Indignant fury. I had not the strength to cast them out… But I could cage them. Predator would become prey. Even the darkness of night would not shelter them here!

A town square. An ornamental fountain was shattered, the water washing the pavements. An aging grey-stone church towered over the small houses. A failed guardian, doomed only to watch as the congregation burned under the fury of unchecked demons. This was the place. The irony dawned upon me with a bitter, choked laugh.

A shout behind me. Another flash of perilous fear and I ducked passed arched doors to claim sanctuary. Deep down, however, I knew the church could not protect me anymore than it had its devotees. I was alone in this… I was always alone in the end.

Pews were upturned. The altar was smashed. Christ, hung upon his golden crucifix, was tossed upon the floor in insult. Pages from holy books paved the way. Flames burned behind stained glass giving the archangel wings of fire. And there - where the altar ought to have been - was my reason for living.

A sphere of whitest light, bright and pure even amid the chaos. I walked like a bride down the aisle, ready to face my fate. Arms outstretched, I reached for the power with all the yearning of mother to child.

It cracked against my touch, growing, expanding, filling the narrow space. A hole. A tear. A break in the fabric of our reality. My flesh burned. Tribal markings familiar and old blazed blue upon my skin. With careful guidance I beckoned the pieces, bid them to draw closed. I stitched the break with all the magic I had left. Slowly it shrank down once more until even the sphere faded into nothingness. Gone. So absolute it may never have been there in the first place. My spirit found peace. My duty was done. My magic was spent. The urgency and demand, that fateful pull to this place ended.

It was a bliss short-lived. I awoke to crash of doors upon stone. The chaos of the war poured into the sacred chapel. Ash and soot. Blistering heat. Corruption.

We turned into a narrow alley. The girl screamed as he blocked our path. A man, tall, slender, beautiful yet alien. Ebony hair framed his face. The angelic beauty was deceptive; betrayed only by the corrupt burn of his ruby eyes! We skidded, tried to turn, only to find our path blocked again by another. She clung to me, her breathing ragged, matching the frantic thrum of my heart. They stalked closer, malice in every movement.

Trapped! Hands I could not see grabbed at me, clawed at me. Infuriated roaring rang in my ears. Anger. Such venomous hate! I cowered, lost, broken, human! I shielded my head with my hands. My tears streamed over my face. I thought of home. I thought of happiness, anything that might give me strength to face this moment. A face danced in my mind. A smile, a pair of dark eyes. “Gus!”

The name meant nothing to me. Empty, cold, yet ringing with fevered meaning as it fell from my lips.

The girl looked up at me, confusion trespassing over her terrified expression.

A pale hand materialised from the darkness behind her and clasped over her lips! The hand vanished back into the shadows and took her with it!

My eyes flew wide with shock. My own lips parted as if to scream. Cold fingers clasped about my mouth, and I was dragged into blackness itself! My back hit the solid form of a man’s chest. I was pinned firmly in place by the clasping hand. Darkness clouded my vision, as if the fog in my mind had thickened to cover my eyes. I could only just make out the shapes of the pursuing creatures. I watched as they stopped, stunned for a moment before they began to look about themselves with wild curses on their lips. One of them kicked the wall, exactly where I stood. His foot passed through me as if I were not there! “A fucking Shadow Dancer!” He spoke in some language unnatural to this land, yet familiar on my ears. He grabbed his companion and threw him towards the mouth of the alleyway. “You can tell the General!”

The other protested, but the angry one would hear none of it. I watched, barely daring to breathe as they walked away, vanishing into the crowds still bustling in the street beyond.

A shot rang out, echoing against the stone. For a long second, I didn’t understand it. Then came pain. Blinding agony deep in my gut. My bodice turned a darker shade of red, the silk irreparably stained. My knees crashed against the tiled floor. Pages of the holy book fluttered about me, red droplets upon white paper.

A creature dropped down from the rafters. He glowed, the same pure brightness as the sphere I had sent away. A burst of his radiant magic and the darkness scurried, the corruption purged. What little remained he beat back with a dance and a song. Then he was beside me, his face so bright I could not make it out. Only the eyes. Blue, as beautiful and as clear as a summer sky. Arms embraced me as I fell. An old, warm comfort. Something was twined about my fingers. Hair more golden than the sun. Words trembled from soft lips, an ancient -familiar- tongue I could not decipher but that filled me with such blessed relief. A promise.

I could not feel the cold. There was no pain while he touched me, but I could see the end. I felt it dripping from my body, moment after precious moment stolen away until there was nothing left. I clung to the light of the creature that held me even as the world darkened about him. The sounds and smells of battle faded away. Piece by piece I was robbed of it all until even his light went out.

The darkness around us lifted. My feet connected with solid ground but failed to take my weight. I stumbled and fell, my knees colliding with the hard, cold stone of the pavement.

“Robyn!” Her voice was muffled, echoing through the hazy fog that thickened dangerously in my mind. The touch of her hands as she gripped my arms felt so distant. Like a memory. “Get, up, please! We can’t linger, they’ll be back any minute!”

“Muddled memories. Broken thoughts. Nothing real. Nothing solid.” A man crouched in the space before me. “I’m solid, Miss Rose…” He reached out, his pale hand brushing at my face. “The here is now.”

Sallow skin and dark sunken eyes. Thick black hair fell in ringlets over his shoulders. He might have been handsome once with his sculpted face and smart goatee beard; but madness seemed caught in the air about him. It was apparent in his wide, unnerving stare and broken speech. The smell of death clung to him. The touch of his skin was as chilly as the winter night in which he stood. Not quite a ghost, but just as dead. ’Vampire’ my senses warned.

My red-haired companion was gazing at the creature with an interruption of surprise. “Who are you? How do you know her?” She looked back at me. “Robyn?”

“They stole me from her.” His wide eyes burned with distressed melancholy. His hand reached to brush against my forehead. “Shattered the history and buried the pieces.”

“Uh-huh.” The redhead girl grabbed my arm and pulled it over her shoulders. “Thank you for your help, but you’ll excuse us if we don’t hang around the crazy vampire too long.” She hauled me up onto my feet.

The man rose with us. “You won’t run far. Corruption lingers on every corner. It hunts your faces.”

“And you have a suggestion I take it?” The girl was already pulling me deeper into the alleyway, shaking her head as she went. “Sorry, but I don’t fancy handing her over to a nest of vampires.”

“No vampires. Only me.”

The girl was struggling to take the weight I leaned upon her. My every footfall was clumsy. The effort strained her voice. “Look, I appreciate the offer, and it’s nothing personal, but you vampire types tend to be on the other side of the playing field.”

“I’m different and strange,” the man retorted, matching our steps and following us.

The redhead scoffed. “Your words. Not mine.”

I reached out, forcing her to stop with a grab of the nearby wall. My gut lurched. I felt as if I had been dropped from a height! With a choke and retch what little I kept in my stomach was emptied onto the pavement.

My companion cursed loudly.

“I know a healer,” the vampire offered. “Maybe her thoughts can be found. Pieced back together to make something whole. I want her to be whole.”

“Why do you care?”

The vampire darted into the shadows and reappeared standing in front of her, blocking our precarious path. Fury was etched into every line of his face. “I am what I am, for her! I had to find the time to wait!” He pressed a finger into his forehead. “The three eyed people don’t get centuries.”

My companion paused, her brow furrowing as she carefully unwound the riddles in his words. “You knew one of the other incarnations?”

The vampire was quiet. His anger seemed to drain out of him, leaving only the distress and pain behind. “Imogen.”

This meant more to the redhead than it did to me. I saw sympathy arrive with understanding. “I’m sorry.”

I felt a familiar clawing in the shadows. The rapid approach of fresh danger. I wasn’t the only one. The girl looked up, her eyes wide and wild with fright. “Vampire or demon? The gods have a warped sense of humour!”

“Vampire.” My voice was a raspy wheeze.

The redhead agreed with a short nod. She turned back to the man standing before her. “So, this healer you know…”

With a smile he stepped up close, reached out and clasped our shoulders.

I gasped with shock as we were flung again into the incorporeal state of darkness. The world whizzed and moved about us. Colours blurred. Sounds whistled. I could comprehend none of it. My grasping hands clutched desperately at whatever I could find. A woollen texture, a cold body beneath. Skin hurt as it pulled against bone. Blood rushed. Stomach churned. Too much and too fast! Torture. Agony of a new kind! I would have begged for mercy where my lips capable of movement.

A skid. A jolt. We came to a halt so abrupt that my spirit itself seemed to fly from my body! A rush of dizziness. My vision blurred. Desperately I tried to right myself, to cling to consciousness. I could hear the girl shouting. I felt hands on my shoulders, holding me up. My body would not straighten. My empty stomach retched pathetically.

“Morgan!” The vampire hammered his fist against an aging wooden door. We stood clustered on a set of old stone steps. Towering above us, a crooked house of rusty red brick and dark wood beams. A sign hung above, creaking in the wind. ‘The Witches Brew’. The vampire hit the door again in a long, unending tirade.

I leaned heavy against my redheaded companion as my feet threatened to give out from under me.

She shook in the freezing winter air but kept a tight grip upon my arms. Glancing up, her brow furrowed, and her skin prickled. “Even blind I can feel the magic on this place.” she all but murmured. “A defensive ward, I think. Something to make humans wary enough to keep away.”

The door opened with a loud rattle and creak, halting the vampire’s furious banging. “By the gods, Gus Arben!” The woman that stood on the threshold had a sorceress’s aura. As brilliant and green as the shade of her beautiful eyes. That same aura betrayed a power that came only with experience and training. She was older than she looked. “Do you have any idea what time it is? We mortals do tend to sleep at night in case you’ve forgotten!” The somewhat elfin look of her features and form betrayed a pure Zenronian heritage. Long auburn hair fell in a perfectly straight sheet down her back. She wore a bed robe of dark purple silk.

“Arben?” My redhead friend turned a stunned expression to our vampire rescuer. “You’re an Arben?”

He gave a polite nod and pushed his way through the door, knocking back the shocked sorceress. “Gustavo Arben,” he introduced himself belatedly. “Vampire-Seer extraordinaire, at your service, Ma’am.” He gestured wildly towards the sorceress he had forced aside. “Morgan Pendle.” he moved his gesturing hand from her to us. “Bethany Illusia and Robyn Rose. Excuse us.”

Morgan caught my other arm as I tripped on the last step. “Lazula’s mercy!” Wide eyed and horrified, she took in the sight of our broken, tattered bodies. Lifting her hand, she conjured a small, flickering flame to her fingertips and moved the light towards us for a better look.

The dancing shine caught upon the vampire’s withered face. The orange glow twinkled in old, dark eyes. A flash of recognition surged through my blood. My heart raced and hammered behind my ribs as desperately I chased the half-formed thought. I knew this man. I knew him…

He rode a chestnut horse across a sunny field of tall grass. The moment ran slow and silent across a tattered memory. The sweat on his brow, the flushed energy in his cheeks. So much life in him! He was handsome. A brilliant smile. A glimmer of mischief in dark eyes. Some exotic appeal in the bold gypsy stylings of his clothes. His white shirt was half-open to the breeze. A red scarf was tight about his hips. His fingers were adorned with a few golden trinkets.

I reached out, took his hand, our horses trotting side-by side.

He kissed my knuckles. A promise hung in his eyes.

“Sit her here.” Morgan flicked her wrist. The light of her flame rushed from her hand to illuminate the candles of her ceiling fixture.

I moaned and shut my eyes, the now brilliant golden light hurting my head. Cold hands had taken hold of one of mine, the form and shape now recognisable. I gripped tight in reply, allowing Gus to lead me across the room and sit on a tall wooden stool before a rough countertop. He tried to release me once I was settled, but I kept my hold on him. I couldn’t let him go. Of the three of them, he was the only person I recognised. I clung to that moment. I clung to the comfort his presence could now offer me because of it.

Gus smiled. The mad gleam in his eye was not so frightening now. He stepped close and squeezed my hand with his own as I dared to turn my head and take in my new surroundings.

It was a shop fit to serve magically inclined folk. Barron floorboards squeaked with every step. Walls lined with shelves upon shelves of books, crystals and artefacts so strong in magical aura even I could sense their power.

Morgan was moving about the room, collecting up vials and jars of strange ingredients.

The redhead - Bethany I presumed - was limping over to me. Her exhaustion seemed to be catching up on her and she leaned heavily against the counter next to me. “This vampi-... Gus…” she corrected herself, glancing to the vampire to receive a nod of confirmation. “He told us he could bring us to a healer.”

Morgan bustled around the counter and set down the various jars she’d collected. “You cannot know how lucky you are to have run into the only benevolent vampire in all of London, no, all of existence!” She shook her head as she retrieved a pestle and mortar from beneath the counter. “Luckier still that he does readings at my shop.”

“Readings?” Bethany frowned at him. “You still ply your trade as a seer?” She turned to Morgan before Gus could answer. “Does the public have no fear of his vampirism?”

Morgan scoffed as she began adding ingredients and grinding them with quick, firm turns of her hand. “Oh, they fear him, but the chance to have one’s fortune read by an Arben is not one that many would pass up, vampire or otherwise.” She glanced toward Gus with a small smile. “He’s become quite infamous these last few years.”

“I like to read the fates,” Gus interjected. “The fortunes of an everyday man are a reprieve from the hell that haunts me.”

Morgan paused her grinding to gesture at him. “And they just love the way he talks.” She counted out plant pods and added them to her mixture before continuing. “‘Illusia’. You’re kin to the house of Arben, aren’t you? You and Gus must be distant cousins.”

“Five times removed,” Gus mumbled.

Bethany narrowed her large eyes at him. “Is that why you helped us? Because you and I share some blood somewhere up the line?”

Gus shook his head but declined to comment further.

“Here. It’s a simple ‘cure all’ to start.” Morgan scooped half of what she had made out of the stone bowl and rolled it in her hand to form a small ball the size and shape of a pill. “This and a good night’s rest will undo most of the deeper damage.” She handed the pill to Bethany before scooping up the rest and forming a second dose for me. “I’d use a healing spell, but I sense some magical disturbance on you both. At worst it could backfire and kill you.” She leaned her hands against the countertops, frowning as she watched Bethany take the pill. “I hesitate to ask, but what the hell did Gus rescue you from? You look like you’ve crawled off a battlefield!”

Bethany made a face as the pill went down. Her voice was hoarse as she answered. “Demons.” She choked. “Water please!”

“Goddess, of course.” Morgan berated herself as she turned and took a door behind the counter. She returned a moment later with two tall tumblers and offered one each to Bethany and myself.

I hesitated for half a moment, then placed the pill on my tongue and took a generous swig of the water. It was hard to swallow even with the help. My rough throat protested as I forced it down.

“I’m sorry, it’s been a long time since I had to actually medicate anyone.” Morgan gestured offhandedly. “I used to patch up soldiers during the Century War. Now the worst I usually get is a broken limb or a case of the flu! Nothing a quick spell won’t fix.”

“You fought in the war?” Bethany asked, her throat apparently cleared.

Morgan frowned, her fingers coming up to twist in front of herself. “No, I didn’t fight, but I did see the frontlines. Restoration magic has always been a forte of mine and it was much needed.” She heaved a heavy sigh that did not quite banish the shadows that had come to her eyes. “I… I took the opportunity to cross over to the Earth-Realms during the last opening. Honestly, I wasn’t sure I was going to make it. The battle that night was ferocious.”

I looked up at her, her words catching my attention and making more sense to me than anything else they’d spoken of. “You were there?” My voice was strained. My throat burned with the effort. I could feel the ghost of long hands about my neck in the form of bruises. “The night I died. You were there?”

Morgan gazed at me for a long moment. There was some fleeting confusion, then a shock of understanding. “Carnen’s grace,” she stuttered. “You’re the keeper? And demons had you?” She looked horrified. “I knew there were some of them lingering after the Century War, but to be organised and numerous enough to track you down and take you? God, I would have sworn you were only human!” She gestured at Bethany hurriedly. “A human ‘in the know’, obviously, but a human nonetheless.”

Bethany reached for my shoulder. “That’s the beauty of her condition. Even seers struggle to identify her as anything more than she appears.” She frowned deeply. “Unfortunately, they’d had my aunt as their prisoner long enough to get a track on Robyn. Aunt Mina broke free and warned my father, but it was too late by then. The demons had identified her family and came for her.”

Morgan put a hand to her chest as if to still a racing heartbeat. What she heard seemed to disturb and frighten her. She was looking at me as if I were something dangerous, yet priceless…

Was I so valuable? Something in my heart told me I was, but it was hard to think through the pain and confusion. I gripped Gus’s hand and pulled him closer. “Am I lost?”

He rested his hand against the small of my back and leaned in close enough to offer the comfort I so craved. I felt him rest a kiss on the top of my head. “No, my rose, you are found.”

I leaned against him. He had a smell about him that was blissfully familiar. Books, smoke, parchment and ink. “I’m so terribly confused.”

Bethany was watching us, her brow furrowed deep behind her large glasses. “He was telling the truth then? You do remember him?”

Gus tapped at the side of his head as he answered for me. “Just a little. Most is missing or muddled, but my eyes are there. Now we’re both broken on the inside.”

Bethany’s lips pursed in abrupt anger. All the stress of the night, the exhaustion and pain in her body had her snapping, lashing out at the vampire. “Look! I can’t read you!” I couldn’t tell if her frustration was truly aimed at Gus or herself. “Whatever those demons did to us, they blinded my third eye, so if you could drop the riddle speak and just talk plainly, that’d be great!”

“He can’t,” Morgan interjected. “Gus is ‘mad as a hatter’ as the humans say. Frankly, you’re lucky that he’s making as much sense as he is.” The sorceress straightened up, a frown passing across her lips. She swung herself around the counter and reached out to take Bethany’s chin in her hand. “They blinded you? That must be the magic I can sense on you.” She narrowed her eyes, searching the younger girl’s face. “Yes. I can feel it now. It’s suppressing your power.”

“The spell was meant for Robyn,” Bethany told her. “It backfired, caught everyone in the room.”

“Was that how you escaped?” Morgan asked.

Bethany shook her head. “No. There was some kind of commotion. Our guard was distracted. I hit him over the head with a pipe, took Robyn and ran.” She frowned, her arms folding around herself. “There was a lot of fighting. We snuck past them.”

Morgan was stunned. “You ‘snuck past them’? That must have been some fight they got into.” She jerked her eyebrows and shook her head. “But if this spell supressed your sight, what was the purpose of using it on Robyn? Humans – even the keeper – have no magic to speak of.”

Gus caught the witch’s attention by tapping at my forehead. “Muddled and missing. Past, present and future bleed into one. Time. Memory. Even passion. All is stripped away to make her bare. To remake her in their image. Willing and pliant.”

Bethany understood Gus’s riddles long before Morgan did. I saw it dawn upon her and trigger a rush of panic. She moved to my side and snatched up my free hand. “What do you remember?” She asked desperately. “Do you know where you are?”

“No.” My lips pulled into a frown as I tried to gather what little I did know. It hurt to try, and I was already so exhausted.

“But you know who you are… don’t you?” Bethany’s voice wavered, her fear getting the better of her. “You know who I am, right?”

I frowned and gripped Gus’s hand a little tighter. Her questions were making me uncomfortable. A horrible, squirming fear was uncurling in my gut as little by little I was forced to face my terrible situation. I knew nothing. Everything but the shade of Gus’s eyes and the feel of his hand was cold and unfamiliar. This woman, so concerned, so terrified for me. I didn’t know her. I hadn’t known her name until Gus had introduced her. Yet she had pulled me from the clutches of demons. I looked away from the intense desperation of her gaze and frowned at the floor. I didn’t know my name. I didn’t even know what I looked like. I was lost in a strange place, surrounded by strange people and strange powers.

What little hope burned in Bethany’s eyes was drowned by tears as she found my answer in my silence. Her nose wrinkled, the first sob threatening to rip from her throat. “But you’re my sister.”

“It can be undone.” Morgan rushed to console her, as pity demanded. “It will take some time, but it’s possible. It must have been a suppression spell, so, the memories are still there, we just need to find a way to dig them out. I can do the same with your sight.”

“Work quickly.” Gus waved his finger back and forth in a mechanical gesture. “Time waits for no one. The veil has no keeper while she sits broken in your lap.”

“I will do my best.” Morgan put her arms around Bethany’s shoulders. “You can both rest here in the meantime. Between Gus and my defensive wards, the demons won’t be able to reach you.”

Bethany wiped the tears from her eyes and tried to stifle her crying. “We need to find other allies too.” She paused to take a deep sniff. “My father was trying to contact the London werewolves when…” She choked, her efforts to regain herself failing and leaving her in floods of tears.

“Werewolves will find you,” Gus assured her. “Their noses are good and their ears are always on the ground.”

“That’s true,” Morgan tried to reassure us. “The London wolves in particular have been doubling their efforts in demon hunting lately. I’d be surprised if they weren’t already on your trail. Especially if you were trying to contact them before you were captured.” She moved away from Bethany and gestured to the door she’d vanished through earlier when fetching water. “Come, let me show you to the guest room. You both need your rest.”

With Gus’s help, I was able to follow Bethany and Morgan out of the little shop and into a very small hallway beyond. Morgan led the way up a narrow, steep flight of stairs.

“Will you stay?” I asked the vampire as we made the tricky climb. My legs were as heavy as lead. A shock of terrible pain accompanied each step.

“Morgan lets me use the cellar as long as I don’t bite.”

I glanced up at him. “Do you bite?”

“Not you, no. And not Morgan. She scares me.”

“She does?”

He gave a short nod. “Poison and medicine are old friends.” He turned an unnaturally bright smile towards me. “I won’t bite Bethany either.”

“Because she’s your cousin?”

He shook his head. “Because she’s your sister. You’ll remember her again.”

We reached the top of the stairs. Morgan was showing Bethany through a narrow door to the left. It was a small, green-painted room with oak panelling. A simple double bed, a dresser and a chair were the only furnishings.

I paused a moment before going after her. “Is that a prophecy?”

Gus gestured for me to follow my redheaded companion. “I hope so.”