Escape (6 page)

            In the fraction of a second, Amelia found herself pinned against a tree trunk alongside the path. The box fell from her hand with a loud thud, plunging into the mist on the ground.

            Connor’s body was stiffly pressed against hers, his face just inches from her own. She could feel every curve of his strong demon muscles, immobilizing her against the rough bark of the tree.

            She didn’t even have time to scream as one of his hands gripped her neck, cutting off much of her air supply. His sharp nails dug into her skin, sending a searing pain along her nerves. Amelia’s hands wrapped vainly around his wrist, pushing with all her strength against him, but she might as well have been trying to move the statue of liberty with her bare hands.

            Connor’s eyes burned a bloody crimson and his canine teeth grew longer than she had seen before, baring them in a menacing growl. The skin on his face grew murky and almost leathery, revealing his true demon self under his human façade. His ears morphed into tall points and hair stiffened into spikes all over his head. Gone was his heavenly fragrance and replaced with the stench of sulfur that assaulted her nose so much that she felt the impulse to gag.

            Amelia choked for air, whimpering as she felt warm blood ooze from the puncture holes he was driving into her flesh with his claws. Connor opened his mouth wide as a roar bellowed forth and a slimy forked tongue slipped over his bottom lip.

            She watched with horror as he leaned into her neck and licked the blood away. Amelia shivered at the sensation of his saliva lingering over her skin. Every part of her shuddered with the desperate need for air and safety. She had never felt so close to death in her life and she doubted that she would ever be this close again.

            Connor’s lips grazed the sensitive outside of her ear. A new sensation flooded over her, making her whole body feverish.

            “Is this real enough for you?” he whispered, his voice throaty and deeper than before. His fiery hot breath made beads of sweat roll down her neck and back.

            Amelia’s mouth opened to answer, but no sound would come out besides the crackled noises of a girl who couldn’t breathe.

            His grip tightened and she could just barely see his glare from the corner of her narrowing sight. “Is it?”

            Amelia’s head quickly bobbled in an affirmative nod, but his hold upon her neck didn’t loosen right away.

            Connor pulled away so their eyes met. She knew that he could see the utter fear in her eyes. There was no hiding it this time. And he would forever know that he could scare her greater than anything else in this world, which she was beginning to realize was quite real. This was no nightmare. This was all real, too real.

            Just as she felt she would pass out from the lack of oxygen to her brain, Connor’s grasp slowly opened and his claws dislodged from her skin, but his sweaty palm was still resting upon her throat. His body eased away from hers and despite her rolling eyes, she could see his face return to normal. She much preferred his blue eyes to his demon ones.

            He stayed there for a moment with their bodies still flush together. Amelia was defenseless and anxious, unsure of what he would do next. His stare softened from pure wrath to something much less. It was a kind of placidity, void of emotion or feeling of any kind.

            He slowly released her body, letting her lungs expand to their full potential. Her knees buckled beneath her and she thought she would crumble into a heap on the ground if Connor hadn’t liberated her neck to catch her around the waist just in time. Amelia’s hands fell upon his chest to help steady herself.

            She could feel his muscles flex under her fingers and all of the sudden she felt a new and foreign sensation. It was so similar to fear that if it were not so intense, she wouldn’t have noticed. Her stomach twisted into nervous knots and the blood seemed to rush from her head so suddenly that she thought she would faint. She determined the feeling was something she had felt a little earlier, only magnified so strongly that she couldn’t will it away.

            And just as suddenly as she felt this flow of anticipation, she saw something flash in his eyes. It was the same vulnerability mirrored in her own expression. Did he feel something too? How could someone go from terrified out of their mind and then hopelessly, but happily confused all within such a brief moment of time?

            Connor guided her away from the tree and she was able to stand flat-footed once more on the path. It was only then that she was able to break her stare away from him and focus on regaining her strength.

            Though she still trembled with an enigmatic desire, she was able to steady herself without his assistance. Connor cautiously backed away, his expression turning docile once more. Amelia raised a shaking hand and touched the side of her neck where he had drew blood. It stung on contact and she winced a bit as she rubbed the rest of her throat, thankful that it was still there and in one piece.

            She looked up and saw Connor grab the box and slowly walk back down the path. She wasn’t about to argue or complain about who carried the box. It’s not like it would work for him anyway. And with her frazzled nerves, she wasn’t too sure she could carry her own weight, much less the box too.

            Amelia gathered up her wits, took a deep breath and followed the demon down the path, unsure of what the rest of this journey would hold for them. 

 
          After hours of continuous silent travel through the forest, Amelia had begged for a rest. Connor couldn’t understand how she could be tired already. But, then again, he wasn’t used to being around a human again. He didn’t grow weary like they did. Not even Esmeralda was like that.

            As he unpacked a blanket for Amelia, he thought about Esmeralda again. He wondered how she was doing and if she had recovered from their farewell. For a vampire, she was always so emotional. He couldn’t understand that either.

            When Connor turned back around to give Amelia the blankets, she was already passed out on a nearby fallen tree. He could hear her heartbeat. It was steady now, not as rapid as it had been for most of this journey. The moment flashed in his mind when he had pinned her to the tree, trying to prove to her that he was just as real as she was. The way her heart raced, the way he drank in her fear like it were a drug. How he felt so high when he tasted her blood for the first time. He hadn’t struck so much terror into a human like that in a long time. It felt good, but so condemning too.

            Connor pushed the thought from his mind and covered Amelia with the fleece blanket.

            “So, the rumors are true.”

            He knew that voice. Without turning to the demon behind him, he answered. “What rumors?”

            The demon stepped closer to stand beside Connor. He peered down upon the sleeping girl and grinned. “That there is a human in our midst.”

            Connor turned to the demon he knew so well. Veloch knew Connor too. “She’s going straight home,” he grumbled.

            Veloch looked to Connor with his glowing red eyes. Like most demons, Veloch did not hide his true self. Connor knew of no one else that masqueraded as a human as much as he did. When he let Amelia glimpse into his true nature earlier, he felt vulnerable and ashamed, like he had committed a cardinal sin that only existed in his mind. He didn’t like that form. He wanted to hide it, conceal it from this world and from himself. Veloch was fully capable of disguising himself like Connor did, but he never saw the point. Veloch had been a demon so long he had forgotten what it was like before. And as much as Connor wanted to, he could never forget.

            “How will you do that?” Veloch asked, his pointed ears twitching with excitement.

            “An enchantment. That’s all you need to know. She’ll be gone in a few days.”

            Veloch turned back to Amelia and bent down low, his face hovering over her hair. He breathed in deeply and let out a satisfied growl. “Baal will be pleased.”

            Connor, losing himself to rage, grabbed Veloch by the collar of his shirt and threw him to the ground. Mist fled from his body like he had plunged into a puddle of water. “You will tell Baal nothing,” Connor hissed through his teeth, wanting to stay quiet so Amelia could sleep as well as intimidate Veloch. He was fooling no one though. Veloch was much more powerful and they both knew it.

            Veloch chuckled and rose up from the ground. “Why do you think he sent me?”

            “Baal is looking for me?” Connor felt a twinge of fear rise in his heart.

            “No, he’s looking for the girl and the box.” Veloch gestured to Amelia with a black leathery hand, complete with sharp claws. “But he knows where he will find the box, he will find you.”

            Connor stood toe-to-toe with his old comrade, their noses almost touching. “Neither you nor Baal will harm her or so help me I’ll slice you open from your crotch to your chin and feed you your own guts.” Connor let his eyes shift to red. “Am I understood?”

            Veloch was not amused this time. He glared and shoved Connor back. “You can try, Connor. You can try.”

            With those last words, Veloch vanished, dissolving into a black cloud that scattered into the wind that rolled through the forest path. His last words rang in Connor’s mind. He balled his hands into fists so tight that his dull human nails still drew blood that dripped into the soil by his feet.

            He couldn’t explain why he had become so protective of Amelia all of the sudden. She was nothing to him. Nothing but a filthy human child. Was it Esmeralda’s parting wish that he took care of her? Was it Sir Jedalf’s prophetic words of their tangled destinies? Or was it something else? There was something that stirred within him back when he scared her. Back when he almost lost all control.

            There was a spark, a fleeting moment of something he hadn’t felt in so long that it wasn’t recognizable anymore. It wasn’t rage; it wasn’t fear or bitterness, not even sadness. It was something else. He knew it was something he felt once before, but he couldn’t find the word.

            Connor looked over his shoulder to Amelia who was still sleeping soundly on the log, her head resting upon her arms. He listened to her heartbeat. So stable, so constant. He wondered if she were dreaming of something pleasant. He hoped that she was.  

            He took the box that was still sitting alongside the path and sat down near the log, setting it next to him. His eyes searched the trees and path for any more unwelcome visitors. He put himself on alert, keeping all of his senses open for anything unusual.

            If Baal was looking for them, he would need to be ready.

            Amelia woke from her slumber a few hours later, feeling refreshed. She wasn’t expecting a different view when she opened her eyes, but she was a little startled to see an eyeful of Connor’s back. She watched his shoulders rise and fall with each breath, memorizing the curve of his muscles beneath his leather jacket. She bit her lip, feeling her stomach tighten once more. The thought that he was purely real, not something from a nightmare, made her heart skip a few beats. She was even more drawn to him now; despite how dangerous she knew he was.

            Connor turned his head and their eyes met. She was caught. Amelia quickly stood up and wadded up the blanket to hand back to him. His blue eyes never left hers as he took it and stuffed it into the pack that was sitting beside him.

            “Was I asleep too long?” she asked, her voice soft, almost in a whisper.

            “No,” he replied as he stood up and shouldered the pack once more. He went to grab the box as well, but Amelia took a few quick steps forward to intercept.

            “I can carry it,” she insisted. “It’s not that heavy.” Amelia felt a deep conviction to make every effort not to inconvenience him. If she could do it with this simple task, she would be satisfied.

            Their eyes locked again and Connor slowly maneuvered around her, leaving the box where it was. She could see no hostility in his countenance, no desire to argue or retaliate against her. All she could see was a blank, but tolerant expression. If she could manage to keep it that way, she would be content.

            She took the box by its handle and followed after him down the path once more. As before, Amelia did not speak, but the millions of questions that nagged unyieldingly swamped her mind. They were too numerous to put into words. She didn’t even know which one was more pressing than the other. Her head was a jumbled mess of confusion that she knew might never be sorted out. She was beyond hoping that Connor could be someone to talk to about any of it. She suffered in silence.

            Not long after they began walking, they came to a break in the trees. They stepped upon the edge of an open field and Amelia couldn’t help but gawk at the thousands, maybe millions of grey and white tombstones that littered the ground. She could just barely see the tree line in the distance over the crest of the turf. It reminded her of a place like Arlington cemetery, only the graves were not dug in neat rows, but were scattered at random all throughout the pasture. Some graves were marked by crosses, and others by the traditional curved-top stones. Only a few were marked by statues of angels or simple plaques fixed in the ground.

            There seemed to be no sound here. No birds chirped in the trees, no creatures called into the forever night. All was still. All was quiet. They both stopped and gazed out over the cemetery.

            “I thought everyone was frozen in time here? Everyone is supposed to live forever.” Amelia asked as Connor cautiously and warily walked into the graveyard.

            “They do… Only, a portion of the population is forever dead.”

            She ran to catch up with Connor, still toting the box along. It bumped against her leg with every step, possibly leaving a bruise that she would notice later.

            “Don’t step directly on the graves,” Connor warned. “Walk around them.”

            Amelia didn’t ask why like she wanted to, but obeyed, taking care to step over or around where she thought a body lay.

            As they went, Amelia read some of the grave markers, but there was something peculiar about them. They were unfinished. All the tombstones had the person’s name, a sentimental quote or comment, then the death date. But none listed a birth date.

            Amelia tried to overlook such a fact, knowing that everything in this world was a bit topsy-turvy anyway. She figured that no one was really born in this world. They just existed forever without any parents or family to speak of, so it would be obvious they had no birth date.

            Upon the thought that no one was born, Amelia wondered how everyone came to live there in the first place. Did they just appear? Were they really born but it had been so long that they have forgotten when? Esmeralda was able to give her an exact number for her age, meaning she must have been born or created some time. And what about families? If they were born, they must have had mothers and fathers. No one could have just been born from nothing except for Adam and Eve. Perhaps this world had their own version of Adam and Eve.

            Then she thought of Connor. Did he have a family? How old was he? Where did he come from? So many questions.

            The two travelers reached the very middle of the graveyard, mist still shrouded over their feet and the full moon high above, fixated forever at the witching hour. Amelia turned her head in every direction and the forest seemed so far off, like they were in a wasteland of graves. She could feel the hair stand up on the back of her neck as the eerie sense overwhelmed her. She may have felt alone, but they weren’t.

            Just then, snow began to fall down upon the cemetery in light flurries, being tossed and carried by the wind like little balls of fluff.

            Amelia looked up into the sky and marveled that there were no clouds to even create such snow. She held out her palm and let the snow collect in her hand. Her skin grew cold and slightly numb from the ice.

            She had never seen snow before except for in images and television footage. She never imagined it would feel like this. She wondered if the snow here was the same as in her world. The flakes seemed so fragile, so light. And she soon realized how cold it really was. Before, it was simply chilly and her clothes were appropriate for the weather. Now, the snow fell on her shoulders and melted quickly to drench the fabric. When it soaked through to Amelia’s skin, she shivered.

            “It’s snowing… It’s May. How can it be snowing?” she asked incredulously, tilting her hand so the snow would drift to the ground, joining the other flakes that were slowly accumulating. The snow crunched under their feet with every step that echoed through the graveyard. Clumps of snow were also gathering on the tops of the tombstones and crosses. The moon’s rays reflected against the snow, brightening their surroundings so much more than before. Amelia could finally distinguish sharper colors on herself and on Connor.

            “What’s May?” Connor asked, ruffling his hair to shake the snow flurries out.

            “It’s a month of the year. May is in the spring season. It’s supposed to be warm. It never snows in May where I come from.”

            “We don’t have seasons here. It’s always cold.” His voice was so flat, so barren of emotion.

            Amelia’s attention turned to Connor’s head where he was still frisking his hair to get the snow out. In this bright moonlight, she noticed something that didn’t seem as obvious before. There were thin, subtle streaks of silver coursing through his locks. She saw them before, but thought they were only an effect the moonlight had upon his ebony hair.

            Feeling chattier than she had before, she made the mistake of opening her mouth. “Did you always have those streaks in your hair?” she asked.

            Connor glanced over his shoulder. “They’re more prevalent some times than others, especially when my hair is wet.”

            Amelia was grateful for his sharing. She had hoped that perhaps they could learn to get along. Why she wanted that was beyond her understanding. “They look kind of cool,” she commented, briefly losing focus on the task of avoiding the graves.

            Connor didn’t reply. He stopped and his head swiveled around in every direction, a bizarre look in his eyes of hyper-awareness that alarmed her. Did he hear something that she didn’t? Was he sensing someone near? Amelia searched the field, and despite the light snow falling down, she could see that they were still the only living beings for what seemed like miles around.

            Amelia looked down and noticed his fingernails grew long and sharp as they did before when he had attacked her. She gulped and gripped the box tighter in her hand, ready to use it as a weapon if necessary, either against him or against an intruder.

            “What’s wrong?” she asked as Connor sniffed the air like a predator tracking its prey.

            “We have company,” he muttered.

            “What do you mean? Who’s coming?” she asked.

            Suddenly, something grabbed at Amelia’s ankle. She screamed and leapt towards Connor, colliding into his strong body. It was an impulsive move, but a smart one.

            He caught her in his arms and his eyes turned down to what had spooked her. There, sprouting from one of the graves wiggled a withered hand that reached and groped for the disturber of its rest.