Stolen Nights Read online

  ‘Vicken!’ I banged on his door three times. When I banged a fourth time Vicken’s hall advisor stuck his head out of his room; he was a tall assistant professor who taught photography.

  ‘Some of us are preparing lessons, Lenah,’ he said, and slammed his door.

  The door in front of me creaked open and Vicken appeared, scratching his head and yawning.

  ‘It’s six in the afternoon,’ I said. ‘You’re sleeping?’

  ‘I have a few hundred years of sleep to catch up on, if you don’t mind.’

  I stepped inside and Vicken grabbed a towel from his desk and stuffed it in the crack under the door. He opened a window, clicked on a fan and lit a cigarette. I paced back and forth across his carpeted dorm room.

  ‘Odette attacked me,’ I said.

  Vicken’s head snapped up so his hair fell into his eyes. ‘Where?’

  ‘The mall. I was there with the girls shopping and there she was, trying on a cocktail dress. Vicken . . .’ I ran a hand through my hair and grabbed at the roots. ‘I gave her a fake ritual.’

  ‘You did what?’

  ‘I had to. She was going to kill me.’

  Vicken took a drag from the cigarette, considered me through the smoke as he breathed out, then stubbed the barely smoked cigarette out on the windowsill. He dropped it into an empty soda can.

  ‘Let’s go,’ he said.

  Together we walked to the end of the hall. I expected to descend the stairs, perhaps to another dorm besides Quartz. I had not considered which room Rhode would be living in on campus. At the end of the hallway was room 429, a single like Vicken’s. This was Rhode’s room. There was something strangely comical about Rhode living in a dorm after serving as a knight under Edward III.

  Vicken knocked and as we waited he looked down at me, meeting my eyes with an encouraging wink. We heard footsteps from behind the door and then Rhode opened up. His eyes travelled back and forth between us. The bruising made his right eye tighter and smaller than the other.

  ‘What happened?’ he asked.

  ‘Not something we can really talk about with the general brouhaha, my friend,’ Vicken answered, motioning towards the other dorm rooms.

  Rhode opened the door and we walked in. I guess I expected opulence. I expected his life at Wickham to mimic our life at Hathersage. But how could it? There would be no apothecary tables, no fine furniture. We were in hiding now. With the exception of a telescope pointing out of the window and his clothes in the closet, Rhode’s room was nothing more than a place to lay his head. When Vicken shut the door behind us, out of the corner of my eye I saw rosemary and lavender tacked on the inside.

  Of course. Those would remain.

  Rhode sat down at his desk.

  ‘Odette attacked me. I gave her a fake ritual. Really convoluted items. It’ll take her days just to find them. Ignacious plant. Rattletail wood.’

  ‘Good choices. Innocuous ingredients. Even with the worst of intentions they won’t produce much of an effect.’

  Love surged through me at Rhode’s support. It made my chest tingle. He lifted his eyes to mine and crisp apples and the rich earth of my father’s house were on the tip of my tongue. I stumbled back a couple of steps, trying to break the connection. If I looked away, perhaps it would stop the memory from engulfing me. I inhaled but there were more apples, a fireplace too. The wood crackling, smoking, and the scent of rain. I stepped back, on to Vicken’s feet.

  ‘Hey! Watch it!’ he cried.

  A vampire’s mouth. Lips parted, going for the kill. Where the two fangs would descend are two black, gaping holes. A vampire with no fangs? I want to run but I know I can’t.

  ‘Lenah?’ Vicken’s hand curled around my arm. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘She had me by the throat!’ I said, shaking my head. ‘And she cut me.’ I moved the collar of my shirt aside to show them the wound.

  ‘You’ll need to clean that,’ Rhode said. He gripped his hands on the chair even tighter.

  ‘Well, I imagine when she finds out the ingredients are fake her retaliation will be swift,’ I said. ‘But she did say one other thing . . .’ I hesitated as the memory of Odette sent a rush of shivers over me. ‘She said she could see why he likes me.’

  Rhode turned towards the desk and brought a bandaged hand to his chin.

  ‘He?’ Rhode asked.

  ‘A member of her coven?’ Vicken offered, leaning against the wall, one booted foot against it.

  ‘You’ve bought us time but no resolution,’ Rhode said.

  I tried not to be stung but his words hurt. ‘In case you missed it the first time I told you, she tried to kill me,’ I replied, as the gaping, fangless mouths from Rhode’s memory sifted into my head again. Before he could respond, I added. ‘She wants power. It’s the only relief from the madness. It’s her only goal.’

  Rhode leaned his arm on the back of the chair; a bruised circle marked his wrist. It didn’t look like a vampire bite – those would be punctures. When he realized my gaze had shifted from his eyes, he lowered his arm.

  ‘She’s not after humanity. She wants to perform the ritual in the hope it will give her power. Power to reign over the elements. With elemental power, she can draw beasts to her, control weaker beings. She can . . .’ I remembered my dream again. I saw the abandoned Wickham in my mind, the dishevelled stone of the buildings, the vacant beach. ‘She can do whatever she wants.’

  ‘There’s nothing we can do until she shows herself again,’ Rhode said. ‘And she will. In the meantime,’ Rhode said, looking at Vicken, ‘you and I could be a target. Anyone close to Lenah is. I would keep your dagger on you.’

  Vicken raised his leg, placing his boot on top of the desk, and Rhode peered inside. I assumed he was looking at the dagger.

  ‘You do the same,’ Rhode said to me.

  ‘And why do you think a simple dagger will work?’ I raised my chin. He was so in control, telling me what to do, telling me he loved me, but then keeping his distance. It was enraging.

  ‘We can’t carry a sword around all day, can we?’ Rhode replied. ‘And you don’t have sunlight coming out of your hands any more.’

  Anger stirred within me. Sunlight. So he did know something about last year.

  ‘OK, I’ll carry a dagger too,’ I said, placing my hand on the doorknob. My heart started to pound. ‘And I’m going to take that bloody sword off its holder so I can behead the next vampire that sets foot near me.’

  ‘That’s the spirit!’ Vicken said, and his eyes shifted back and forth between Rhode and me. ‘Given the circumstances,’ he muttered under his breath.

  I glared at Rhode.

  ‘Why are you so angry?’ Rhode asked.

  ‘Because you keep all your knowledge tucked away inside. Tell me, Rhode – were you here last year, or weren’t you? Did you stand in the shadows and watch me fight for my life? Did you watch my best friend, Tony, die at the hands of a coven I created when you left? You know all about leaving, don’t you?’

  His lips parted slightly.

  I started to walk away. I almost couldn’t believe how good it felt to say those words out loud. He was businesslike and battered, with all his secrets and his bruises. But I still wanted to know exactly who or what had beaten him to a bloody pulp.

  ‘Lenah, wait,’ Rhode said.

  I turned to face him, crossing my arms over my chest. ‘You act like it doesn’t matter. Like it’s just some inconvenience that I had to fight for my life in a dressing room and couldn’t run without endangering my friends. But don’t worry, Rhode, I’ll keep an eye out,’ I said, mocking his instructive tone. ‘I’ll be a good girl and carry a dagger.’

  Rhode’s expression hardened. ‘I don’t understand you,’ he said with a shake of his head.

  I wanted him to hold me, as he had for hundreds of years. In my mind, for one moment, we sat in an opera house in the 1700s. His mouth grazed the nape of my neck, his hands travelled slowly up my stomach. But I couldn’t say any of th
at out loud.

  I blinked the memory away.

  ‘I know what I have to do,’ I said, turning away and leaving his room. My fury continued to build as I raced down the stairs of Quartz dorm. I did not need a dagger. I would not be afraid in a dressing room again. No one would tell me how to live or what weapons to carry, least of all Rhode.

  You are soulmates. No one can change that.

  I didn’t want to be soulmates if it had to be like this. I needed to take control of something. Anything. Anything to keep Odette away from me. So I was going to do a barrier spell and protect myself in my own way.

  ‘Wait!’ I heard from behind me. ‘Wait!’

  I stopped at the entrance to my dorm and turned.

  Vicken ran to catch up with me. ‘Don’t . . .’ he said puffing hard, ‘perform any magic.’ He rested his palms on his thighs.

  ‘If you stopped smoking,’ I jibed, ‘you might find it easier to catch your breath.’

  He stood up, seeing something in the reflection behind him. ‘Damn it!’ he said, and walked towards the glass front windows. ‘It’s fading.’

  ‘What’s fading?’

  He turned to me and said with complete disgust, ‘My bruise!’ He whipped open the door, and after showing our IDs we climbed up the stairs to my room.

  I shook my head. ‘Since when are you Rhode’s messenger boy? Why no magic?’

  ‘If you do any spells,’ he said, turning his body to avoid a couple of students coming down the stairs, ‘I mean, SPELLING,’ he yelled to cover. We climbed up further. ‘If you do any spells,’ he whispered, ‘it could release enough magic to draw in energy, even more vampires. They can sense it, remember?’

  I remembered Suleen’s words about performing magic, but if Rhode was right and we had some protection until the start of Nuit Rouge, then we might be safe on campus. I told Vicken as much.

  ‘Either way,’ I said, ‘I am doing a little something special tonight. A barrier spell.’

  We walked into the apartment and the first thing I did was enter the kitchen. My fingers lingered on the black tins of herbs and spices that Rhode had left me when I was first human and came to Wickham. It seemed impossible that he was the same person. But so far he’d stayed away from me. He’d done as he was told.

  Back in the living area I knelt before my old travelling trunk, and there was a click from the latches as I lifted the lid. Inside, hidden, were some things I would need for the spell. My fingers fluttered over a small sheet of satin. I moved it out of the way along with old crystal spheres, daggers with engraved sheaths and other trinkets from my life as a vampire. From the depths of the trunk I pulled out one of the few books Rhode had left for me. The book was bound in 1808 and entitled simply: Incantato.

  I opened it and flipped through the thick pages until I found the correct one.

  ‘Barrier spell,’ I said aloud, and walking through I placed the book down on the kitchen counter.

  I snatched the sage and an old scallop shell big enough to hold the combination of herbs. After checking the book, I organized dried dandelion, thyme, sage, lavender and an apple. I held the book in the crook of my arm and sprinkled the dried herbs around the perimeter of the room.

  Vicken stood in the doorway of the kitchen with his arms crossed over his broad chest, watching me.

  ‘Do you know . . .’ I asked, continuing to lace the room with herbs, ‘the origins of the Invitation Myth?’

  ‘What? That vampires need to be invited into a house?’ Vicken asked, and sat down on the couch. ‘It’s bollocks.’

  The aroma of the herbs came to my nose in waves of sweet thyme and soft lavender. Remnants of herbs landed on the open pages of the book.

  ‘Hand me your dagger,’ I said, and he did. I sliced the apple through the middle and left it face up. When cut in half, the core is a pentacle, a five-pointed star, a form known in the supernatural world to bring power to those performing incantations. It could also represent all four elements: earth, water, fire and air; the fifth point is for all of the elements combined – sometimes called spirit. The thought of the pentacle reminded me of the Aeris, of their power. I turned it out to face the room. ‘Vampires created the Invitation Myth,’ I continued, ‘to keep out the truly horrible beasts. The shape-shifters, the half-men/half-animals, the reprehensible of all kinds. Drink a little blood and suddenly you’re the worst sort!’ I met his eyes and gave him a knowing smirk. ‘But we knew there were worse creatures than vampires. Creatures that came into your room through an open window, robbing you of your breath. Creatures that broke bones . . . for pleasure.’

  I found a grey candle in the trunk and lit it. Grey is used on only very specific occasions – a colour between evil and good. A middle colour. Do not trifle with grey candles.

  The candle flickered, and with the book open before me I read the enchantment soberly. I poured all my intentions into that moment. I wanted to protect us.

  ‘I am safe and protected here in this space.’ I intoned the incantation and placed the book down on the table. I took the grey candle between the palms of my hands and circled the room again. ‘I am safe and protected here, with the blood in my veins, with these herbs. Let no vampire or supernatural beast walk through this door. I am safe and protected here.’

  I walked five times around the perimeter of the room. When I had finished, I placed the candle down on the coffee table. I tried to ignore a throb from my collarbone.

  ‘We need to let the candle burn,’ I said. ‘And you can’t leave until it’s out. We can’t disturb the energy.’

  ‘We aren’t vampires any more. How do we know if we can even summon this kind of magic?’

  I watched the candle smoke flicker into the air.

  ‘I guess we’ll have to wait and see,’ I said. ‘If this works . . . well . . .’ I hesitated, and Vicken waited for me to continue. ‘Well, if it works we can try other things.’

  ‘Other things?’

  I shot a glance at my book. How many times had I used it in Hathersage? Thousands? Granted, it was usually used to draw an enemy to me.

  ‘You know what I mean. We could try stronger spells,’ I said.

  ‘Why would we be trying stronger spells?’ Vicken asked. I thought of Suleen’s warning on the beach. The longer I was a mortal, the weaker my connection to the supernatural world.

  ‘We won’t know if it works unless vampires try to come in here and murder you.’

  ‘Only one way to find out,’ I said, and reached for the television remote.

  Slow. Skin against skin. The low glow of a lantern. Two bodies together. A thigh rests against mine – lips whisper in my ear.

  Vampires love with their whole souls. Not just with their bodies. They cannot feel as vampires. Their sense of touch wanes, leaving nothing behind but the human shell. Inside, the tortured soul is driven mad from numbness. When two vampires come together, two vampires that love, they can touch souls.

  But not in this dream.

  Rhode and I are on a bed made of straw. The windowpanes are old, the candle flame reflects in thick glass. The wood is so dark it is almost black.

  Rhode’s hand is behind my head, his lips graze mine.

  In this dream . . . I can feel him as a mortal would.

  Our bodies make heat in this old room. A fire blazes and it makes my skin sweat. ‘Rhode,’ I whisper, and he pulls back from my ear. He looks into my eyes – the blue of his is captivating. I forget for just a split second how close we are. ‘I wish I could feel you,’ I say.

  ‘Can’t you?’ he whispers, and brings his face to mine. ‘Never,’ he says. ‘Never again can I be parted from you.’

  The word you echoes. Just one small syllable.

  You. You. You . . . and the image fades to darkness.

  The straw bed shifts and the warmth of Rhode’s body against mine is gone. Suddenly, the space opens up and I’m floating in mid-air – maybe I’m hovering, flying above the bed below me.

  ‘You don’t understa
nd.’

  Rhode’s voice. I drift back towards the ground, the air supporting my body as though I’m a bird. I hover even lower and I’m below a black ceiling. I am on my feet, standing in a room. This is not the bedroom – I am somewhere else. Rhode kneels on the floor, his head bowed.

  ‘You don’t see,’ Rhode is saying to someone in the room. ‘I can’t do it. I can’t. What you ask is too much. Your demands are too great.’

  I turn to see who he is speaking to, but it is all shadow.

  ‘It’s too much,’ Rhode says again.

  I am aware of my mortal body lying in a bed. The straw bed? No. It’s softer. I am sleeping in my bed at Wickham Boarding School.

  I want to wake up. Wake up, Lenah. The white light of the Aeris that has been haunting me flashes before my eyes. There – there is that vampire mouth again, the one where there are no fangs. Gaping black holes are where his fangs should be. Wake up, Lenah!

  Wake up!

  My eyes flew open.

  I gasped and cool air rushed down my throat. Through the open door of my bedroom, the television showed the early-morning news. The grey candle had long burned out. Vicken had fallen asleep and all I could see of him were his motorcycle boots dangling off the end of the couch. He snored in a rhythmic pattern.

  I breathed out and sat up. A small line of sweat ran down my forehead. I wiped it away and ran a hand over my hair, my pulse racing. The cut on my collarbone burned so I hunched a bit and touched at the sensitive wound. Rhode, my heart said. Rhode.

  But Rhode was across campus without me.

  I got out of bed because I wanted to find Rhode; I wanted his eyes burning into mine. But what I wanted and what I needed had now become two drastically different things. I stopped, holding a blouse in my hand. Despite the heat and closeness I’d felt to Rhode in that dream, he would reject me if I surprised him at his room. What I needed was someone who would comfort me. Someone who would accept my touch when I gave it.

  I needed Justin.

  CHAPTER 13

  When I stepped out of the newly broken side door (thanks to Vicken earlier that week), dark blue and black clouds swarmed across the grey sky. It was just before sunrise, an hour at most. I knew I wasn’t supposed to travel on campus alone. The cut on my collarbone pulsed as I stepped down the path, a reminder that I was breaking the rules. I brought my fingers to it and the crackled blood and scab were rough under my fingers.