then
looked again at Javier and Gabriel who had retreated a little distance away.
Her face was chalky white and when Cassia touched her cheek it was icy. She was
in desperate need of blood. Slowly, so as not to startle her, Cassia put an arm
round the girl’s shaking shoulders and pulled her close. Then she raised her
wrist, scored her own vein and held it to the girl’s lips;
“You need to take blood right now, come on, try.” She
said gently then flexed her wrist slightly to increase the flow allowing blood
to drip onto the girl’s mouth; surely that would trigger her feeding impulse.
The girl whimpered weakly then, to Cassia’s relief,
her canines descended and she struck Cassia’s vein hungrily, hard and clumsily
enough to cause pain. She couldn’t help it, thought Cassia as she suppressed a
gasp, she was desperate. She drank in long thirsty drags making small
whimpering sounds; snuggling in closer like a frightened child.
Something soft and warm was draped round the two of
them and looking up Cassia saw that Javier had covered them both with a blanket
and was sitting on an old box, out of the girl’s line of sight.
Gabriel was examining something that covered the walls
and other surfaces of the room; rubbing it between his fingers. He turned and
raised his palm towards Javier; it appeared to be covered with fine grey ash.
Then he pointed silently at the centre of the floor. Cassia followed Javier’s
eyes; there was an odd starburst pattern marking the old stone flags. She
wondered what it meant, both men clearly knew because Gabriel’s eyes darkened
with fury and he took a deep breath and moved across the room. Javier joined
him and the two of them talked quietly. Cassia tried to listen but she was
concentrating on the girl, rocking her gently as she started to sing a lullaby
in the old language.
“Sir, Chronus is here.” Andreas called down from the
hall;
“I’ll come up,” Gabriel said then turned to Javier, “I
don’t think the child could take seeing an Empath right now.”
Javier agreed; he knew what the young girl had
witnessed. Sitting on the bottom step he cradled his weapon and watched the two
women huddled together on the floor. Cassia was singing an ancient lullaby in
their old language he remembered from his own childhood. Even though she sang
quietly the sound was sweet and beautiful. Her attention was focused completely
on the young girl as she drank thirstily. She was taking a lot, thought Javier,
Vampires newly transitioned through adolescence had voracious appetites for
blood; their bodies needed it. He was glad Cassia had taken blood just hours
ago but, at this rate, she would need more fairly soon.
He watched her, letting her pure voice seep into him.
Her face had lost its usual wary watchfulness and was gentle and tender, framed
by wisps of black hair as her plait came undone. She hadn’t hesitated; she had
just taken the girl in her arms and tended to her, giving her blood, life
itself. In Vampire society to give blood to a stranger in need was seen as an
act of great generosity and selflessness creating a bond between the one who gave
and the recipient.
At long last the young girl raised her head, finally
sated and leaned on Cassia’s shoulder. Javier moved quickly, acting on an
impulse he didn’t understand. Cassia’s wrist was a mess and her hand trembled
visibly. Kneeling by her he lifted her wrist to his mouth and gently sealed the
wounds, his tongue easing over the ragged puncture marks until the enzymes
closed them then started the healing process. Her blood tasted rich, like port
wine and he felt a low hum of need vibrate through his body, deep inside his
blood and bones.
Cassia appeared to have noticed nothing as she shifted
her grip on the girl and tried to stand; Javier lifted them up and set them on
their feet.
“What is your name little one?” he asked softly;
“Rose,” she whispered, “Spike and me, we were going to
London together and then to