A cross carved from red jasper.
Peering through a slit, I see a man and woman standing at the water’s edge. My hiding place is a cave whose roof is a great stone slab resting at one end of the pool. A void left by the collapse of the burning manor—perhaps a cellar once—its entrance concealed year round by bramble and deer fern.
The woman wears a familiar red cloak. She is crying. Though I am the spirit of the wood, I am also myself, and I know this man ... my father.
“I’m sorry, Ruby. But you knew this day would come. The boy’s time is close now, and you won’t be safe here once he’s changed. Until he learns control, we will have to manage his thirst in other ways.”
“And what ofyourthirst, sir?” Ruby asks in a voice breaking with grief.
“My thirst will wane as his waxes. So it was with my father, and his father before him. It is greatly diminished already, as you well know.”
Ruby dabs at her nose with a handkerchief. “When he has ... somewhat recovered, may I come again?”
“Ruby,”my father gently scolds, “did I not warn you against becoming attached to the accursed Tregarricks?”
“I suppose it was advice easier given than taken, sir.”
“Well, I am sorry for it. Perhaps in five or ten years you might safely return to us. But why not take what you’ve earned and go somewhere you may start fresh? Go to London, where you may find people more open minded, and make pupils of the children of the ton.”
“Perhaps I shall.”
Her reply carries a note of defiance, but my father chooses to ignore this. “I’m sure you will make a success of it, my girl.”
“I could have been, you know.” She looks at him. “Your girl.”
He reaches out and touches her cheek. She must be nearing forty now. Her dark curls have begun to thread silver. My father’s true age hasn’t caught up to him yet.
I hear the pain in his voice as he answers, “Don’t make me remind you—remind us both—of the many reasons that may not be. Responsibility for the death of one person I loved is all the burden I’m strong enough to carry.”
Ruby looks away, endeavoring to control her emotion.
“Fare thee well, my sweet.” My father’s hand moves to the small of her back for a moment, and she leans toward him. But he withdraws it quickly and turns from her, facing me briefly—and unaware—before moving out of my view as he starts toward the chapel.
Ruby remains, her back shuddering with each quiet sob. After a few moments, she fumbles with something at her bodice, pulling out a chain with a cross pendant carved from red jasper. She’s worn a cross since her first day on the estate, though it wasn’t always this one. The jasper pendant was a gift from my father. She lifts it over her head and looks as if she might cast it into the dark water, but I sense she doesn’t have the heart.
This moment is a gift—an opportunity to indulge without consequence. The temptation is too great. My father feeds less than he used to, and the taste of Ruby’s blood is familiar—almost comforting—to the creature whose memory I am now sharing.
There is no one else about, but there are eyes in the black chapel. I breathe a thick mist into the air to ensure our privacy. I leave the shelter of the cave. I am swift, and she hasn’t heard me. But at the last moment she turns, and I see her face. Her wide-eyed terror.
I seize her, lifting her off her feet, and the necklace flies from her hand, splashing into the dark water after all.
Hiding
“Harker?” His back was to us, but I heard him gasp. I thought he must have discovered whatever Jeremy had found. I couldn’t see anything from where I stood with the others.
“Mr. Tregarrick?” called the constable.
“I ... yes.” Harker turned; how pale and stricken he looked!
“Do you know anything about these remains, sir?” asked Mr. Hilliard, his voice crisp with the authority of his office.
Harker’s gaze was aimed at the ground between us. He kept silent, as if he hadn’t heard. Then at last he raised his eyes, and the tension in his expression loosened.Like he’s let go of something, or plans to.
“I believe I do, sir,” he said.
“Well, then?”
I didn’t care at all for the edge in the constable’s voice. Though with a corpse found on the estate, I could hardly complain that he had no right to his suspicions.
