Edge of Midnight, part 4
The final part behind the cut.
She pressed the quill down with more force that necessary with the last few strokes, wanting to make an impression, to leave a mark. The heaving illness which had been gripping her for most of the day was luckily lessening now. Azare’s black envelope rested next to her arm, with the note pulled half-way out. She had always dreaded the day of her wedding, even when she was younger and had barely understood what it entitled. She had never expected to feel this pull, this excitement, but she had to consider it was most likely due more to the danger than the actual wedding. Anna had to smile at herself. Maybe this was the only way she could actually experience this; it was highly unlikely she would ever marry, even if she somehow survived tonight.
She finished her letter and slipped it into an envelope. The door creaked slightly as Carl hurried in carrying the last of her weapons. He laid the small pistol onto the table. She was amazed at the tiny size of the gun.
“Silver bullets, with concentrated garlic hollow point.”
Anna pulled out a small holster from one of the drawers. She hiked her dress up and wrapped it around her leg; she had to smile as Carl bashfully turned to face the wall. She holstered the pistol and sent a silent prayer that it would be enough to kill Father. She turned back to the desk and stuck a wax strip into a candle flame.
She let the drops of wax drip onto the envelope and then pressed it closed with her finger tip. No great insignia or coat of arms for her. Car stood in the corner fidgeting nervously. He had tried to talk her out of this plan for days now.
“I need for you to give this to him if…”
She faltered, she had thought about death for so long now it seemed almost a friend, but she refused to acknowledge its presence now. Carl nodded silently. He knew of whom she spoke of. He took the letter fingering the paper nervously.
“Anna, you do not need to do this.”
She shook her head, but he carried on heedlessly.
“The Order has men who could do this.”
To that she had to smile. Had to smile at his innocence; that he was still so unaware of what she had to do to gain this kind of access. To trade in all that was precious and private in her mind, to hide within her own body, but then, she had always had to.
“You know that is not true. Also, this is something I need to do.”
She was truly smiling now.
“You must understand; this is my gift, my sacrifice which should have been given for the death of Dracula and is now long overdue. The fates are demanding for the last Valerious heir.”
She looked into the darkness creeping in between the open curtains. For the first time in a long time she felt in peace with herself; empty of the doubts and fears nagging away in her heart. Maybe it was time.
x x x x x x x
The knock was so hesitant he could barely hear it. The light of the few candles reflected coldly from the stone walls, making the chamber look more like a cave. He pushed the chair away from the rickety desk and went to the door. His face was white; hands clutching a small letter.
“This is about Anna.”
Gabriel almost slammed the door to his face. The raw wound which they had ripped open only days ago throbbing in his mind. He forced his temper and spit out.
“No. We have been through this. I cannot be apart of her life any longer.”
Carl gave a dry bark of laughter, clutching the piece of paper harder.
“She is going to die tonight.”
His body stilled, and the hallway was plunged into a complete silence. Carl knew that if she survived tonight Anna would be so angry; so furious, but how could he do nothing? The words spiller from his mouth, the weeks of work and smuggling, the weapons he had created, names, dates. And finally what Anna had done to gain their confidence. Carl saw the terror slowly overtaking his eyes, filling him up to the brim, till there was nothing left. He handed the crumbled letter to the hunter.
“She wanted me to give you this if…”
He clutched the paper, fingers trebling on the parchment.
“…well if she did not survive, but I think you need to read it now.”
x x x x x x x
The carriage was lusher than ever before: rose petals thrown over the seats and floor. She brushed her veil away from her eyes, gloved fingers caressing a small note. Azare had outdone himself with her dress, a creation of lace and heavy velvet. It was heavy and made Anna feel like the queen she ought to have been. She smiled at the bitter thought and slid the note open.
My Love,
I await you at the end of the aisle.
There are so many things I wish to show you, but more than anything I wish to show you the night through my eyes.
Tonight you will be born into life eternal.
forever, Azare
Fighting back the lump in her throat Anna crumbled the note in her hand. She pressed her fist against her leg, feeling the warmed metal of her pistol against the skin, grounding her. She felt the coach come to a halt and released the breath she had not realised she had been holding. She opened the door stepping into the cool air of Roman night. She looked at the sky. Stars were out, glowing down on her with light which had died away hundreds of years ago. It is in dying that we are born to eternal life. She smiled at the though, wished that her ancestors would be waiting.
“My Lady…”
The coachman’s hesitant voice broke her revere. Anna nodded to him, accepting the offered arm. Sparing a final glance at the stars she left the carriage behind, with Azare’s note crumbled in the sand.
x x x x x x x
The sea of vampires parted in front of her like the Red Sea. She was their Moses bringing salvation to their king. Anna bowed to her groom waiting at the end of the hall. Their gazes were hungry and curious, sensitive senses smelling the rush of living blood. None of them however made a move to halt her progress. She reached the altar, reached Azare. He smiled; she had passed the first test. His fingers slid over her wrist where his scar had not yet fully healed. He lifted her dark veil from her face, fingers caressing her lips in their wake. She smiled at his daring, willing her nerves to calm, and reached for his hand.
It was like a communal ripple through the mass of vampires when a small side door next to the altar opened. Father looked very old, the skin of his face and hands brittle like paper. The vampire’s eyes were dark pools, cold and unreadable. They assessed her quietly; Anna willed her mind silent, her body under control, his gaze slid away as suddenly as it had come. Discreetly he nodded to Azare. An acolyte handed him a thickly bound tome and he slid it open with a thin finger.
“My children.”
Unlike his brittle appearance, the creature’s voice was steel. Sliding over the crowd like a blade, forcing them into a still silence.
“Tonight is to be a historical occasion. The blood which stood in Vladislaus Dragulia’s veins will be united with the House of Arsenius, before you…”
His hand made a movement towards Anna, and instinctively she squeezed Azare’s palm tighter in her own.
“Stands the heir and only progenitor of the Valerious line, tonight she…”
He was loudly interrupted by a loud crash. The huge wooden doors swung open, revealing a tightly nit band of vampires dragging a struggling man towards the crowd.
“My Lord!”
Again the mass parted, allowing the group towards the altar. As the struggling man got close Anna began to feel her chest constrict. No no no. Gabriel threw his head back howling, desperately fighting against the bonds and the strength of five vampires. She heard the soft exclamation behind her.
“So, what brings the great Van Helsing to our minds, hmm, at such a joys occasion, no less?”
Carl, you stupid fool. Anna realised the moment she lost control that all would be lost. The side of her fist was already flying through the air as the cold thin fingers curled around her neck with steely force. His face was next to her ear in an instant, the force of the blow came as a surprise. Losing her balance Anna stumbled, landing on her hands and knees onto the floor. Faintly she could see Azare try to move to help, but Father’s hand stopped him.
“Your bride is nothing more than a conniving gypsy whore. A spy of the Order.”
His hand fisted onto the back of her dress lifting her from the ground. The knee sank into her abdomen with brute force. Distantly she could hear Gabriel’s howls. The pain spread slowly, like an internal fire, expelling all breath from her body. She rolled onto her side, retching spit and acid onto the stone floor. A sharp kick followed on, not letting her recover.
“Her thought betrayed her the moment the human was brought to us.”
Anna couldn’t force her body to move. The pain slid through her stomach, making her legs clench. He saw Father’s boots moving around her, walking towards Gabriel.
“You did not answer me boy. Do you come for the whore?”
Gabriel was breathing through his nostrils, the rage in him almost overwhelming. The thick fingers of a vampire were holding onto his hair, pulling his head back, forcing to him face the vampire’s black eyes.
“I am going to kill you.”
“You are not going to do anything. Azare come here.”
Yet again the commanding flick of writs and Azare obeyed moving down from the altar. Anna tried to catch his eyes, to find some way of stalling, of fighting the undertow pulling her in. He gave her a contemptuous look beneath his eyelids and slid to Father’s side. Anna pushed her legs together, trying to force the pain to recede. The blunt metal of the revolver pressed into her thigh. She forced herself to breath through her mouth, sliding her hand under the hem of her dress. Father had turned to Azare, his gaze unpleased.
“You have chosen poorly. Your mistake has, however, brought us Van Helsing so I am willing to be lenient.”
He placed his bony hand over Gabriel’s throat making him thrash harder in the hold of his guards. The fingers squeezed slightly, but did nothing to subdue his rage.
“The kill is yours.”
Azare looked at Gabriel, and the part of his mind that was still the wolf understood that he was staring into the eyes of a competitor. A foreign male forcing his way into his territory. He growled, baring his teeth. Azare let out an angry hiss, letting his teeth elongate. Father moved back, and as if on instinct the mass of vampires moved to hold Gabriel down, all clamouring the taste of a hunter’s blood. Anna felt the solid feel of the ivory handle in her fingers; forcing the hammer back she pulled the weapon from between her legs.
The entire energy of the hall was focused on the single place. Azare’s fingers were wrapping themselves around Gabriel’s head; the power of the mob was keeping him immobile. Anna fought to breathe; the pain was growing, reaching its tendrils down her legs. She could feel something warm and sticky beginning to pool between her thighs. She squeezed the pistol to her side eyes trying to find Father. He stood to the side, not touched by the frenzy of the mob. Azare’s fangs sunk into Gabriel’s throat. She had one chance to rid the world of these creatures, to release Rome. She could see the force of Gabriel’s struggles beginning to lose their power. Fuck the World. She fired. There was complete silence, the neat fracture in Azare’s scull began to bleed, and then crumble. The vampires shrank back and then moved like the tide towards her. She grasped the handle, grimacing with the effort. The tide never reached her, like a wind blowing through a burnt structure the creatures began to fall apart. She watched as the ancient vampire priest withered to dust.
Gabriel, released from their hold fell to his knees, pressing his hand to the puncture wounds. Anna forced herself onto her hands and knees, crawling onto the steps. She crouched against the stairs, trying to support her weight. The pain was flaring up stronger now; a hot poker shoved inside her stomach. A sharp contraction forced her to crouch down pushing her head against the stone.
“Anna!”
His voice was rough, forced through his bruised throat. He was tying a scrap of cloth around his neck. Anna shifted her thick skirts aside and pushed her hand between her legs to try and find the source of the pain. The wetness startled her and she pulled he hand to the light. The blood was much brighter in the glow of the torches than she had expected. Almost fascinated she examined her bloody hand. Without any warning her legs gave away; smashing her tailbone hard onto the floor. He rushed to her; grabbing her hand, staring at the blood.
“I think something is wrong.”
It was running freely now, rivulets of red raging down her legs and pooling on the floor. Gabriel felt his chest constrict and the unfiltered panic began to swell in his mind. Her eyes had started to cloud over. As gently as he could he slid his hands under her body lifting her against his body. Whispering words which made sense only to himself against her hair he began rushing to his horse.
She felt so detached; as if his strong hands lifting her up did not truly touch her body; it was not her he rushed through the cavernous hallways. Roughly he hoisted her and then himself on his horse urging the animal into gallop instantly. The wind pulled on her hair that had come uncoiled during the fight. The pain was a distant hum now; alive in a body she did not feel.
“Need to get to the healers, you will be fine.”
His words were whispered underneath his breath as if not meant for her ears. Her hand moved to her stomach. Maybe she had known; and had been unwilling to accept the truth.
“I think she is dying.”
The silent consciousness that had lived in her was now slowly withering away. She wondered how she could have begun life so unawares, and only make her presence known now that she was leaving. She let the sob drown inside the shallow breaths her body fought to expel. He just squeezed her harder against his body. Anna took some comfort in the convulsive action, but wished he would not hold her so hard.
The horse’s hooves skidded on the stone pathway outside the Convent’s hospital. Oil lamps hung from iron posts, gently swinging in the breeze. Anna slid down from the horse crashing onto her hands and knees. He was crouching next to her, hands grasping around her middle to lift her to standing position. She gasped. With his hands the pain flared bright. He let go.
Anna felt the tears now, running streams down her cheeks and onto the dusty ground. Suddenly the hands were back, gentle pads of his coarse fingers smoothing down her neck, like gentling a beast. Silently she nodded. Circling his arms around her shoulders he heaved her up and swung her legs over his other arm. The convulsive pain made her want to retch, but fought the urge. Each step he took jolted her and finally she just let her head roll back, flicking with the motion.
He crashed into the room, startling nuns and healers alike. She heard the desperation in his voice, but could no longer understand the words. The bed beneath her felt like straws, maybe it was. She faintly heard the healer’s hard voice commanding Van Helsing out of the room; then strong hands pulling her skirt off. The pain was like the ocean now, retreating and then returning with even more vigour; raging in her belly. She breather though her nose. There was salt in the air.
The wind was gentle on her face pillowing her hair behind her shoulders; the air smelled of the ocean. The tiny grains of sand cradled her feet as the water slowly crashed around her legs and then retreated again into the mass of the sea. The light was muted by the thin clouds that allowed a few rays to filter through; making the water sparkle.
She felt him step next to her; his hand combing through the strands of her hair moving in the wind.
She turned to look. He was so much younger here; the frown that had shadowed her father’s face in life was now gone. She did not recognise the smile that played around his lips. She felt like crying but somehow could not in the peace of this place.
“Do not be sad, you have made me so proud, made both of us proud.”
He turned to look to the waves where a body was moving gracefully beneath the waters. A head rose above the surface and he threw his hair away from his face. Strongly he pushed through the water. She ran to meet him, the ocean cool surrounding her calves. Now there was no illness, no panic in his embrace. He smelled of the salt of the sea and of Vaseria; of home. Tears came unbidden to her closed eyes forcing themselves from underneath her lids.
“I am so sorry.”
He embraced her harder, then pressed his forehead against hers.
“You did what had to be done. You gave me the absolution that was needed. I would not have whished myself to roam the moors taking the lives of innocents.”
He looked at her eyes clear and content.
“I had spilled enough blood for that lifetime.”
His words did not bring her the solace she needed, but they brought her peace. Anna knew that Velkan understood that her absolution could not solely come from him. She would have to learn to live with her choices before she could accept his forgiveness. Arm in arm they walked to their father. He seemed forlorn now. She reached out for him gentling his face with her hands. He seemed so sad.
“What is wrong?”
She knew his expression now. He had looked the same when she, at the age of fifteen, had come home covered in blood and bruises. She had slain her first werewolf that day. He had been so angry, but also proud; embracing her and then trying to shake some sense into her. That day he had given her the long sword she still carried; a rite of passage.
“My beautiful girl, there is so much you are yet to do.”
She was confused now.
“It is not your time yet. This time was given to you to make peace with your past, but now you must return to the world.”
She bowed her head. Inside she knew this; her journey was not complete. He kissed the top of her head.
“Do not harder you heart, Anna. He is a better man than you believe him for, he just does not know how to love you yet.”
She shook her head; this she was not ready for. She embraced Velkan once more, and then her father. It was a strange feeling; as if someone was pulling a rope out from the back of her head. It grew stronger and she felt the panic swell.
“Mamma! Where is she?”
Her father seemed distant; as if speaking from under water.
“She is not here; her time has not yet come.”
The slap to her face made her roll over. There was a foul stench in her nose that made her stomach heave.
“Awake!”
Bellatrix’s voice was breathless. She blinked her eyes open still wary of the sting on her face. The pain was less now. The older woman’s hand’s came to smooth over her brow. Anna could vaguely recognise worry in her eyes.
“Welcome back.”
x x x x x x x
Bellatrix had been in and out of her rooms throughout the night. She had been lucid most of the time even though the herbs she was given for the pain were making her muscles limp. She had demanded to know. At first Bellatrix had not been willing to discuss her injuries, but she had pressed on. She had been professional, dishing out the hard truths. Rupture in her uterine wall. She lost a baby. Maybe two months old. It was hard to tell this early. She had been able to fight the tears at the face of such brute facts.
Then Gabriel had appeared into the doorway. Bellatrix moved to shoo him away, but Anna shook her head. This needed to be done. She wanted to get up, face him properly, but the muscles of her back fought back against the movement and she stayed still. He sat silently next to her bed, eyes downcast.
“I cannot do this anymore, Gabriel I won’t. It is too painful.”
He shook his head, eyes facing the floor, shaggy hair curtaining his expression.
“Anna…”
His voice was strangely strangled, shoulders hitching.
“I cannot keep seeing you, and not lose myself.”
“Don’t do this.”
He was shaking his head in denial, desperate eyes meeting hers. He was crying. She palmed his rough cheek, whipping the tears away with her thumb.
“I have to.”
“They told me…”
The words seemed to catch in his throat and he looked away.
“Yes, she was yours.”
She felt so cruel saying those words, telling him now that all hope was lost. He was crying in earnest now, in the silent, shaking way her father had used to, when he thought no one was looking. Her tears were somehow absent.
“We cannot be together, Gabriel. I understand that now. There is too much bad blood, too many missions to fulfil.”
He grabbed her hand like a drowning man, burying his nose in her palm. His eyes were squeezed shut as if to shield him from her words.
“There will always be battles which you think me too weak for. Wars you think I cannot wage. I cannot love you and at the same time do what I was born to do.”
He nodded, and rose from his chair. He stopped at the door, almost saying something, but seemed to think it better to stay silent. He disappeared into of the corridor. Anna turned her head away from the darkness of the doorway. The tears came, silent and terrible, bleeding into the fabric of her pillow.
She pressed the quill down with more force that necessary with the last few strokes, wanting to make an impression, to leave a mark. The heaving illness which had been gripping her for most of the day was luckily lessening now. Azare’s black envelope rested next to her arm, with the note pulled half-way out. She had always dreaded the day of her wedding, even when she was younger and had barely understood what it entitled. She had never expected to feel this pull, this excitement, but she had to consider it was most likely due more to the danger than the actual wedding. Anna had to smile at herself. Maybe this was the only way she could actually experience this; it was highly unlikely she would ever marry, even if she somehow survived tonight.
She finished her letter and slipped it into an envelope. The door creaked slightly as Carl hurried in carrying the last of her weapons. He laid the small pistol onto the table. She was amazed at the tiny size of the gun.
“Silver bullets, with concentrated garlic hollow point.”
Anna pulled out a small holster from one of the drawers. She hiked her dress up and wrapped it around her leg; she had to smile as Carl bashfully turned to face the wall. She holstered the pistol and sent a silent prayer that it would be enough to kill Father. She turned back to the desk and stuck a wax strip into a candle flame.
She let the drops of wax drip onto the envelope and then pressed it closed with her finger tip. No great insignia or coat of arms for her. Car stood in the corner fidgeting nervously. He had tried to talk her out of this plan for days now.
“I need for you to give this to him if…”
She faltered, she had thought about death for so long now it seemed almost a friend, but she refused to acknowledge its presence now. Carl nodded silently. He knew of whom she spoke of. He took the letter fingering the paper nervously.
“Anna, you do not need to do this.”
She shook her head, but he carried on heedlessly.
“The Order has men who could do this.”
To that she had to smile. Had to smile at his innocence; that he was still so unaware of what she had to do to gain this kind of access. To trade in all that was precious and private in her mind, to hide within her own body, but then, she had always had to.
“You know that is not true. Also, this is something I need to do.”
She was truly smiling now.
“You must understand; this is my gift, my sacrifice which should have been given for the death of Dracula and is now long overdue. The fates are demanding for the last Valerious heir.”
She looked into the darkness creeping in between the open curtains. For the first time in a long time she felt in peace with herself; empty of the doubts and fears nagging away in her heart. Maybe it was time.
x x x x x x x
The knock was so hesitant he could barely hear it. The light of the few candles reflected coldly from the stone walls, making the chamber look more like a cave. He pushed the chair away from the rickety desk and went to the door. His face was white; hands clutching a small letter.
“This is about Anna.”
Gabriel almost slammed the door to his face. The raw wound which they had ripped open only days ago throbbing in his mind. He forced his temper and spit out.
“No. We have been through this. I cannot be apart of her life any longer.”
Carl gave a dry bark of laughter, clutching the piece of paper harder.
“She is going to die tonight.”
His body stilled, and the hallway was plunged into a complete silence. Carl knew that if she survived tonight Anna would be so angry; so furious, but how could he do nothing? The words spiller from his mouth, the weeks of work and smuggling, the weapons he had created, names, dates. And finally what Anna had done to gain their confidence. Carl saw the terror slowly overtaking his eyes, filling him up to the brim, till there was nothing left. He handed the crumbled letter to the hunter.
“She wanted me to give you this if…”
He clutched the paper, fingers trebling on the parchment.
“…well if she did not survive, but I think you need to read it now.”
x x x x x x x
The carriage was lusher than ever before: rose petals thrown over the seats and floor. She brushed her veil away from her eyes, gloved fingers caressing a small note. Azare had outdone himself with her dress, a creation of lace and heavy velvet. It was heavy and made Anna feel like the queen she ought to have been. She smiled at the bitter thought and slid the note open.
My Love,
I await you at the end of the aisle.
There are so many things I wish to show you, but more than anything I wish to show you the night through my eyes.
Tonight you will be born into life eternal.
forever, Azare
Fighting back the lump in her throat Anna crumbled the note in her hand. She pressed her fist against her leg, feeling the warmed metal of her pistol against the skin, grounding her. She felt the coach come to a halt and released the breath she had not realised she had been holding. She opened the door stepping into the cool air of Roman night. She looked at the sky. Stars were out, glowing down on her with light which had died away hundreds of years ago. It is in dying that we are born to eternal life. She smiled at the though, wished that her ancestors would be waiting.
“My Lady…”
The coachman’s hesitant voice broke her revere. Anna nodded to him, accepting the offered arm. Sparing a final glance at the stars she left the carriage behind, with Azare’s note crumbled in the sand.
x x x x x x x
The sea of vampires parted in front of her like the Red Sea. She was their Moses bringing salvation to their king. Anna bowed to her groom waiting at the end of the hall. Their gazes were hungry and curious, sensitive senses smelling the rush of living blood. None of them however made a move to halt her progress. She reached the altar, reached Azare. He smiled; she had passed the first test. His fingers slid over her wrist where his scar had not yet fully healed. He lifted her dark veil from her face, fingers caressing her lips in their wake. She smiled at his daring, willing her nerves to calm, and reached for his hand.
It was like a communal ripple through the mass of vampires when a small side door next to the altar opened. Father looked very old, the skin of his face and hands brittle like paper. The vampire’s eyes were dark pools, cold and unreadable. They assessed her quietly; Anna willed her mind silent, her body under control, his gaze slid away as suddenly as it had come. Discreetly he nodded to Azare. An acolyte handed him a thickly bound tome and he slid it open with a thin finger.
“My children.”
Unlike his brittle appearance, the creature’s voice was steel. Sliding over the crowd like a blade, forcing them into a still silence.
“Tonight is to be a historical occasion. The blood which stood in Vladislaus Dragulia’s veins will be united with the House of Arsenius, before you…”
His hand made a movement towards Anna, and instinctively she squeezed Azare’s palm tighter in her own.
“Stands the heir and only progenitor of the Valerious line, tonight she…”
He was loudly interrupted by a loud crash. The huge wooden doors swung open, revealing a tightly nit band of vampires dragging a struggling man towards the crowd.
“My Lord!”
Again the mass parted, allowing the group towards the altar. As the struggling man got close Anna began to feel her chest constrict. No no no. Gabriel threw his head back howling, desperately fighting against the bonds and the strength of five vampires. She heard the soft exclamation behind her.
“So, what brings the great Van Helsing to our minds, hmm, at such a joys occasion, no less?”
Carl, you stupid fool. Anna realised the moment she lost control that all would be lost. The side of her fist was already flying through the air as the cold thin fingers curled around her neck with steely force. His face was next to her ear in an instant, the force of the blow came as a surprise. Losing her balance Anna stumbled, landing on her hands and knees onto the floor. Faintly she could see Azare try to move to help, but Father’s hand stopped him.
“Your bride is nothing more than a conniving gypsy whore. A spy of the Order.”
His hand fisted onto the back of her dress lifting her from the ground. The knee sank into her abdomen with brute force. Distantly she could hear Gabriel’s howls. The pain spread slowly, like an internal fire, expelling all breath from her body. She rolled onto her side, retching spit and acid onto the stone floor. A sharp kick followed on, not letting her recover.
“Her thought betrayed her the moment the human was brought to us.”
Anna couldn’t force her body to move. The pain slid through her stomach, making her legs clench. He saw Father’s boots moving around her, walking towards Gabriel.
“You did not answer me boy. Do you come for the whore?”
Gabriel was breathing through his nostrils, the rage in him almost overwhelming. The thick fingers of a vampire were holding onto his hair, pulling his head back, forcing to him face the vampire’s black eyes.
“I am going to kill you.”
“You are not going to do anything. Azare come here.”
Yet again the commanding flick of writs and Azare obeyed moving down from the altar. Anna tried to catch his eyes, to find some way of stalling, of fighting the undertow pulling her in. He gave her a contemptuous look beneath his eyelids and slid to Father’s side. Anna pushed her legs together, trying to force the pain to recede. The blunt metal of the revolver pressed into her thigh. She forced herself to breath through her mouth, sliding her hand under the hem of her dress. Father had turned to Azare, his gaze unpleased.
“You have chosen poorly. Your mistake has, however, brought us Van Helsing so I am willing to be lenient.”
He placed his bony hand over Gabriel’s throat making him thrash harder in the hold of his guards. The fingers squeezed slightly, but did nothing to subdue his rage.
“The kill is yours.”
Azare looked at Gabriel, and the part of his mind that was still the wolf understood that he was staring into the eyes of a competitor. A foreign male forcing his way into his territory. He growled, baring his teeth. Azare let out an angry hiss, letting his teeth elongate. Father moved back, and as if on instinct the mass of vampires moved to hold Gabriel down, all clamouring the taste of a hunter’s blood. Anna felt the solid feel of the ivory handle in her fingers; forcing the hammer back she pulled the weapon from between her legs.
The entire energy of the hall was focused on the single place. Azare’s fingers were wrapping themselves around Gabriel’s head; the power of the mob was keeping him immobile. Anna fought to breathe; the pain was growing, reaching its tendrils down her legs. She could feel something warm and sticky beginning to pool between her thighs. She squeezed the pistol to her side eyes trying to find Father. He stood to the side, not touched by the frenzy of the mob. Azare’s fangs sunk into Gabriel’s throat. She had one chance to rid the world of these creatures, to release Rome. She could see the force of Gabriel’s struggles beginning to lose their power. Fuck the World. She fired. There was complete silence, the neat fracture in Azare’s scull began to bleed, and then crumble. The vampires shrank back and then moved like the tide towards her. She grasped the handle, grimacing with the effort. The tide never reached her, like a wind blowing through a burnt structure the creatures began to fall apart. She watched as the ancient vampire priest withered to dust.
Gabriel, released from their hold fell to his knees, pressing his hand to the puncture wounds. Anna forced herself onto her hands and knees, crawling onto the steps. She crouched against the stairs, trying to support her weight. The pain was flaring up stronger now; a hot poker shoved inside her stomach. A sharp contraction forced her to crouch down pushing her head against the stone.
“Anna!”
His voice was rough, forced through his bruised throat. He was tying a scrap of cloth around his neck. Anna shifted her thick skirts aside and pushed her hand between her legs to try and find the source of the pain. The wetness startled her and she pulled he hand to the light. The blood was much brighter in the glow of the torches than she had expected. Almost fascinated she examined her bloody hand. Without any warning her legs gave away; smashing her tailbone hard onto the floor. He rushed to her; grabbing her hand, staring at the blood.
“I think something is wrong.”
It was running freely now, rivulets of red raging down her legs and pooling on the floor. Gabriel felt his chest constrict and the unfiltered panic began to swell in his mind. Her eyes had started to cloud over. As gently as he could he slid his hands under her body lifting her against his body. Whispering words which made sense only to himself against her hair he began rushing to his horse.
She felt so detached; as if his strong hands lifting her up did not truly touch her body; it was not her he rushed through the cavernous hallways. Roughly he hoisted her and then himself on his horse urging the animal into gallop instantly. The wind pulled on her hair that had come uncoiled during the fight. The pain was a distant hum now; alive in a body she did not feel.
“Need to get to the healers, you will be fine.”
His words were whispered underneath his breath as if not meant for her ears. Her hand moved to her stomach. Maybe she had known; and had been unwilling to accept the truth.
“I think she is dying.”
The silent consciousness that had lived in her was now slowly withering away. She wondered how she could have begun life so unawares, and only make her presence known now that she was leaving. She let the sob drown inside the shallow breaths her body fought to expel. He just squeezed her harder against his body. Anna took some comfort in the convulsive action, but wished he would not hold her so hard.
The horse’s hooves skidded on the stone pathway outside the Convent’s hospital. Oil lamps hung from iron posts, gently swinging in the breeze. Anna slid down from the horse crashing onto her hands and knees. He was crouching next to her, hands grasping around her middle to lift her to standing position. She gasped. With his hands the pain flared bright. He let go.
Anna felt the tears now, running streams down her cheeks and onto the dusty ground. Suddenly the hands were back, gentle pads of his coarse fingers smoothing down her neck, like gentling a beast. Silently she nodded. Circling his arms around her shoulders he heaved her up and swung her legs over his other arm. The convulsive pain made her want to retch, but fought the urge. Each step he took jolted her and finally she just let her head roll back, flicking with the motion.
He crashed into the room, startling nuns and healers alike. She heard the desperation in his voice, but could no longer understand the words. The bed beneath her felt like straws, maybe it was. She faintly heard the healer’s hard voice commanding Van Helsing out of the room; then strong hands pulling her skirt off. The pain was like the ocean now, retreating and then returning with even more vigour; raging in her belly. She breather though her nose. There was salt in the air.
The wind was gentle on her face pillowing her hair behind her shoulders; the air smelled of the ocean. The tiny grains of sand cradled her feet as the water slowly crashed around her legs and then retreated again into the mass of the sea. The light was muted by the thin clouds that allowed a few rays to filter through; making the water sparkle.
She felt him step next to her; his hand combing through the strands of her hair moving in the wind.
She turned to look. He was so much younger here; the frown that had shadowed her father’s face in life was now gone. She did not recognise the smile that played around his lips. She felt like crying but somehow could not in the peace of this place.
“Do not be sad, you have made me so proud, made both of us proud.”
He turned to look to the waves where a body was moving gracefully beneath the waters. A head rose above the surface and he threw his hair away from his face. Strongly he pushed through the water. She ran to meet him, the ocean cool surrounding her calves. Now there was no illness, no panic in his embrace. He smelled of the salt of the sea and of Vaseria; of home. Tears came unbidden to her closed eyes forcing themselves from underneath her lids.
“I am so sorry.”
He embraced her harder, then pressed his forehead against hers.
“You did what had to be done. You gave me the absolution that was needed. I would not have whished myself to roam the moors taking the lives of innocents.”
He looked at her eyes clear and content.
“I had spilled enough blood for that lifetime.”
His words did not bring her the solace she needed, but they brought her peace. Anna knew that Velkan understood that her absolution could not solely come from him. She would have to learn to live with her choices before she could accept his forgiveness. Arm in arm they walked to their father. He seemed forlorn now. She reached out for him gentling his face with her hands. He seemed so sad.
“What is wrong?”
She knew his expression now. He had looked the same when she, at the age of fifteen, had come home covered in blood and bruises. She had slain her first werewolf that day. He had been so angry, but also proud; embracing her and then trying to shake some sense into her. That day he had given her the long sword she still carried; a rite of passage.
“My beautiful girl, there is so much you are yet to do.”
She was confused now.
“It is not your time yet. This time was given to you to make peace with your past, but now you must return to the world.”
She bowed her head. Inside she knew this; her journey was not complete. He kissed the top of her head.
“Do not harder you heart, Anna. He is a better man than you believe him for, he just does not know how to love you yet.”
She shook her head; this she was not ready for. She embraced Velkan once more, and then her father. It was a strange feeling; as if someone was pulling a rope out from the back of her head. It grew stronger and she felt the panic swell.
“Mamma! Where is she?”
Her father seemed distant; as if speaking from under water.
“She is not here; her time has not yet come.”
The slap to her face made her roll over. There was a foul stench in her nose that made her stomach heave.
“Awake!”
Bellatrix’s voice was breathless. She blinked her eyes open still wary of the sting on her face. The pain was less now. The older woman’s hand’s came to smooth over her brow. Anna could vaguely recognise worry in her eyes.
“Welcome back.”
x x x x x x x
Bellatrix had been in and out of her rooms throughout the night. She had been lucid most of the time even though the herbs she was given for the pain were making her muscles limp. She had demanded to know. At first Bellatrix had not been willing to discuss her injuries, but she had pressed on. She had been professional, dishing out the hard truths. Rupture in her uterine wall. She lost a baby. Maybe two months old. It was hard to tell this early. She had been able to fight the tears at the face of such brute facts.
Then Gabriel had appeared into the doorway. Bellatrix moved to shoo him away, but Anna shook her head. This needed to be done. She wanted to get up, face him properly, but the muscles of her back fought back against the movement and she stayed still. He sat silently next to her bed, eyes downcast.
“I cannot do this anymore, Gabriel I won’t. It is too painful.”
He shook his head, eyes facing the floor, shaggy hair curtaining his expression.
“Anna…”
His voice was strangely strangled, shoulders hitching.
“I cannot keep seeing you, and not lose myself.”
“Don’t do this.”
He was shaking his head in denial, desperate eyes meeting hers. He was crying. She palmed his rough cheek, whipping the tears away with her thumb.
“I have to.”
“They told me…”
The words seemed to catch in his throat and he looked away.
“Yes, she was yours.”
She felt so cruel saying those words, telling him now that all hope was lost. He was crying in earnest now, in the silent, shaking way her father had used to, when he thought no one was looking. Her tears were somehow absent.
“We cannot be together, Gabriel. I understand that now. There is too much bad blood, too many missions to fulfil.”
He grabbed her hand like a drowning man, burying his nose in her palm. His eyes were squeezed shut as if to shield him from her words.
“There will always be battles which you think me too weak for. Wars you think I cannot wage. I cannot love you and at the same time do what I was born to do.”
He nodded, and rose from his chair. He stopped at the door, almost saying something, but seemed to think it better to stay silent. He disappeared into of the corridor. Anna turned her head away from the darkness of the doorway. The tears came, silent and terrible, bleeding into the fabric of her pillow.