Futile Flame (11 page)

My mind was blank as I watched like a voyeur as Druda left the cottage once more and continued with her chores. How simple and uncomplicated her life was compared to mine. Filled with wealth and privilege, my world had for the most part been a silent hell. I’d have given anything in that moment to be this girl. To take over her life and live it in comparative freedom. The thought idled in my brain briefly. But no, this was still too close to my home. It would be so easy for Caesare to find me.

A candle flame burned in the back of my brain, igniting the realisation that I now had an abundance of freedom. Caesare may have only just learned of my flight. He was the only person who could possibly find me. I leapt to my feet as Druda left the yard on her way once more to the river. Rushing forward I yanked the damp clothing from the line and ran.

Deep into the forest I stopped once more to clothe myself, wrapping a shawl around my head to hide the abundance of beautiful hair that shone over my shoulders. I dirtied my hands and face again. I looked down at my discarded robe. I had to destroy it, or at least bury it. It would be too obvious a clue to my brother who had hunted all his life. Looking around I could see no obvious place to dispose of the garment so I rolled it up and tucked it carefully under my arm. The silk was so dirty and stained now that it looked like nothing more that some peasant rag. Finally satisfied, I stepped out onto the road, like a harmless peasant travelling to market.

After walking briskly for a mile or two I observed the emptiness of the road and gathered speed, running full pelt towards the next small village. Here I would move among the peasants to see if any rumours had spread of Lena’s murder. I realised that I had now put many miles between my home and myself. It was unlikely that anyone would be looking for me this far away. However, Caesare’s name floated through my head. My brother had gone to extreme lengths to own me. I had to remain alert. After all I didn’t know what he was capable of.

Having run the last ten miles on the darkening road, weaving in and out of the trees as the road traffic thickened, I reached the outskirts of the town at nightfall. It was a place called Tramonti. I knew by some bizarre new instinct that I was south of Rome. It was a small village with very little to offer other than a tiny community.

I entered under cover of darkness. It was evident that it would be impossible for me to remain anonymous here. The town was too small and the villagers all knew each other well. It was obvious that my presence would attract too much attention so I quickly hid myself in the shadows, listening at doorways.

‘My cousin doesn’t make up stories, Tita.’

The peasant’s loud voice echoed through the open shutter and I was drawn to the hatch to listen.

‘You come from the tavern and you tell me tall tales told to children to make them behave! Your cousin drinks too much and has too vivid an imagination.’

‘No, no. I tell you...’

‘Yes, you tell me a monster roams and eats young girls. There are many monsters in this world but certainly it is not a Duchess turned into a revenant. Go to bed, Ernesto. I will not listen to this drunken nonsense any more this evening.’

Even this far, news of Lena’s murder was filtering through. I knew I had to leave immediately, move onto another town still farther away. Ultimately I needed to lose myself in the bigger cities. An image of the Vatican flared up behind my eyes like a welcoming beacon. Rome. I felt the pull of my past dragging me along and through the village. I followed the glow in my mind like a well-learned map. I was going home. Somehow I knew the way.

Chapter 17 – Present

The road is dark, an A road with no streetlights. This is never a problem for me as I have perfect night vision. Lilly strokes my leg. I am driving for once. She has given up insisting that she is more capable than I. We are looking for a hotel, something quiet and remote, away from the city. I need somewhere quiet to think and to try and make sense of the stories that Lucrezia has been telling me.

‘Do you know anywhere in the area?’ I ask Lilly.

‘Just drive. There are hundreds around here.’

I feel the swirl of energy a few seconds before something lands in the road before us. Excellent reflexes help me brake in time. I sit for a moment looking at the humped figure, knowing it is a body lying at an unnatural angle. It is crumpled in the road directly in the beam of my headlights. Lilly jumps from the car and rushes to examine it before I can prevent her and so I too am forced to leave the car. I feel uneasy.

The man is of some vague mixed race. His head and face are crushed from the fall, body twisted and bent. One arm is pulled up over his head, the hand crushed and warped around the wrong way. That’s how I see the tattoo, or I might never have recognised him. It is a Celtic fish on a hook. The victim is the waiter from the bar the other night and I recall that I had fleetingly considered killing him for his attitude.

‘Same as our friend Ellie, except...’ Lilly hands me a piece of paper as I stand looking down at the mangled remains. It is a note, written in the victim’s blood.

Mother

‘What does it mean?’ Lilly asks.

‘I don’t know. The killer has an Oedipus complex?’

I take the note with us and throw it into the back of the car. I can sense the aura of the entity... alien, different.

We follow the entity’s trail for almost an hour, all the time staying well back. It leaves a black essence, like a threatening calling card, along the road. We can sense it, taste it, smell it, even though it is invisible to the naked eye. It beckons us. I am unable to resist the call, although Lilly is a little more cautious.

‘It’s human in shape. Male,’ Lilly says. I don’t know how she can tell: I can barely make out its outline on the horizon.

I turn the car into an unlit lane. We are somewhere in Cheshire. I watch the headlights bounce as we make our way along the uneven track. Ahead of us, the creature has changed its direction. It halts in the air and comes flying back towards us. I react by braking hard. The car skids in the mud, with its huge wheels scraping noisily against a raised, natural grass verge on the driver’s side, before coming to a halt. The being, He, draws closer.

Lilly digs her nails in my arm. I feel the blood seeping from my torn skin as I turn to her. Her face is still and beautiful. She doesn’t appear afraid, but I can feel her nervousness as her aura laps mine. She always touches me when she feels worried.

Darkness.

Nausea rips at my insides as vitality leaks from my limbs. My head flops back. I have no control over my body, not even my neck. I feel Lilly slump beside me. Her breathing becomes shallow. My stomach clenches. I feel hollow and worried for her, despite my own pain. Coldness slips into my veins as my blood turns to icy sludge.

Paralysis.

I stare up at the sky through the sunroof. The night is scattered with the worlds of the galaxy. I wait. Reason tells me that if we can sense this thing then surely it knew of our presence. We are clearly being stalked.

Nothing happens.

The stars stare down declaring me paranoid. Outside the car, the sounds of nature make a mockery of my phobia even though my body is a prisoner. The haunting call of an owl echoes through the trees on the right. I hear the hopping rustle of a hare, the twitter of insects, the crackle of leaves falling in the breeze. All normal night-time sounds exaggerated by my sensitive hearing.

A black blur gathers around my eyes. I force them to focus on the sunroof. Above me a hole appears in the sky and swallows the stars. It floats high above us, stopping over the car. I can feel it looking.

‘Mother!’ The cry is mournful. For a moment I imagine it is all in my mind.

Lilly gasps. It is the only sound either of us is capable of making. I try to turn my head but can’t move. I concentrate all my efforts into moving my head and I turn it with effort, catching the frozen outline of my lover as she gazes up open-mouthed.

‘Mother!’ it calls again. The voice is male.

Lilly blinks. She too is forcing her body to work again.

‘Old...’ she croaks.

I also feel the age of the creature. It makes my skull ache.

I feel eyes boring into me and my head flops back again. Still I can see nothing. My eyes burn. Pressure builds behind them. My brain throbs as though I will suffer some vampiric aneurysm. The pain is excruciating. Small sounds force from my lips. Maybe this is how a diver feels when he goes too deep? My ears hurt. I’m certain the drums will burst if relief doesn’t come soon. My eyes and nose stream blood, not water or any other secretion that leaks from them.

‘Stop it,’ Lilly gasps and immediately the tension behind my eyes releases.

The relief is instant. The muscles in my face and neck cramp; they have been held so taut that they ache.

‘Leave us alone,’ Lilly shouts at the entity.

I hear the wind rush around it, helping it gather speed as it soars higher, heading – I don’t know where – but away. As fast as possible, almost as if obeying her command.

My limbs awake and I throw myself against the door, coughing and spluttering as I pull at the handle. My fingers feel numb, the strength barely returning. The door flies open, tumbling my frantic body outside onto the dirt track road. I land on all-fours, vomiting up the blood and steak we had consumed that evening. The nausea is endless. I dry heave until my stomach, throat and mouth hurt from the effort.

‘Gabi,’ Lilly croaks.

I crawl around the car, unable to stand. I find Lilly on her knees too. Her stomach balks. I smell the sickness on her breath. Beside her, I hold her hair away from her face until the nausea leaves her. She collapses against me and I hug her close. Afraid, so very afraid that the thing we have encountered could have killed her. She is so young, so much more fragile than I.

When we feel able, I turn the car and head back to Manchester. Hopefully Lucrezia will have some answers soon.

Chapter 18 – Lucrezia’s Story

Rome had not been my home for several years. As I made my way there, travelling by night and sleeping by day, I reflected on the corruption of my life. I missed my children and wondered often if they were safe, especially Isabella. Was my new baby thriving without my love? Since the night of my rebirth there was not even the pain of mother’s milk left in my breasts to remind me of my child. I had altered so much, was now completely inhuman. Childbirth could probably never recur in my new and improved body. Even so, I intended to forsake men now. They had been cruel and faithless. My brother’s influence felt like a distant nightmare. With every step I took away from my old life, I began to believe I could forget all that had happened.

During the day I felt reasonably strong, even though the sun was excessively painful at times. However in the night I had superior strength. The moon shone on my limbs with glowing energy. In the woods, under cover of dark, I danced like a witch in the glare of the moon, all the time watching my whitening flesh glow luminous. It was as though my skin reflected its cold flame. For to me the moon was cold; I could feel its freezing rays as intently as I could suffer the burning touch of the sun.

I would walk or run through the night. I felt no fear alone, though when I slept in the daytime, I could have been vulnerable. Even then I had no concerns that I could be hurt or that I was in any danger. Maybe it was foolish to allow this feeling of invulnerability to wash through me like a cleansing fire purging a sinner. It wiped away all traces of the pain I’d suffered during my human life. I didn’t feel evil, but knew I must be. Therein lay the ultimate freedom. I did not fear death; I was already shunned by God. No man could harm me; I knew I could outmatch the strongest.

The hunger, at times, was agony. I scrambled around for food, drank water from streams; caught fish with my bare hands and cooked them in the woods outside of the towns. No matter how much food I ate, the emptiness and pain was never eased. I stumbled on, sometimes feeling like an addict deprived of some terrible obsession. Through woods and forests, into towns, stealing food whenever and wherever I could. Yet the hunger intensified until it gnawed at my insides. The pain of it threatened to drive me mad.

So, almost insane, feeling every inch an outcast, a revenant, I reached the final village that would mark the last leg of my journey to Rome. It was mid afternoon. I had roused myself early and walked through the burning sun to reach the town before the night watch locked the gates. By now my peasant garb was dirty and I felt invisible amongst the other peasants.

As I walked through the gate I saw her for the first time: An olive-skinned, pretty girl. Clearly from a good family, though not aristocracy. Her dark hair shone with auburn highlights in the afternoon sunshine. Her open, warm eyes were light brown, flecked with hazel. She was slender, girlish and fragile. As I looked at her, stepping up into her carriage beside her mother and younger brother, a strange lust rushed into my loins. I felt my gums prick as my teeth extended. I began to believe that in some way I had changed sex. I had never looked at other women this way, although I had always been able to recognise beauty and charm in others. I stumbled against the wall of a local shop and pushed myself around the corner to avoid being seen. I watched her carriage depart. I wanted to follow, had to, but was afraid that I would be seen. I wished right then and there that I could be truly invisible, that I could follow totally unseen.