Testimony of Children (Alice Gray Book 2)

22

I woke face down in a bed, the words to the White Paternoster ringing in my ears. The high-pitched saccharine sound of a child singing – Jennet Device.

This was bad. The familiar rhythms of worship wound round me, but they offered no comfort. The prayer was corrupted to form words of power. Words that could break a curse, or lay one.

As the fuzziness in my mind cleared, I didn't know how to interpret the omen. Was it a warning, or a threat, or both?

One thing I knew for certain was that I had a huge bump on the back of my head. Another was that I wasn't alone.

Not by a long shot. My body vibrated with hot energy. There was only one person that evoked that reaction. Thomas.

"What the hell were you thinking, Jim?"

Thomas stood close to the bed, his back to me. He hadn't realised that I was awake yet. His fury consumed him, leaving him blind to the external signs of my recovery. If Thomas was angry about my unruly power, then I was in serious trouble. He usually welcomed it. He was usually excited by it.

James, on the other hand, was as relaxed as was possible when faced with such outrage. He sat in a comfortable looking smoking chair, one leg crossed over the other, pipe in one hand and a small crystal glass of port in the other.

At least I hoped it was port.

James looked at me before he spoke. My face was squashed into the pillow, but I had turned my head slightly so that I could take in my surroundings. He met my eyes.

"She needs to know about her family. About me. About us. She's in grave danger. Her power sings to me. It will sing to him. She has no control over it. Even the humans were turned by it tonight. She needs to rein it in before he hears the song too."

I pulled myself up. They must mean my father. I might not be looking forward to meeting him again, but I'd defeated him once, and I wasn't afraid to do it again.

"Jonathan can come when he wants. I'm ready."

Thomas spun and gathered me into his arms. My body eased into his embrace. Relief, physical and emotional, washed through me at the contact. He hadn't given up on me. Something dark and heavy in my heart suddenly released.

"It's not your father that I'm concerned about, love. It's ours," James said.

"Jim, no," Thomas urged, but his voice had lost its ferocity, resignation creeping in to take its place.

"She has to know, for all our safety. I'm sorry Tommy."

"Come on you guys. Enough with the suspense. I thought your days of keeping secrets from me were over, Thomas."

"Fine."

He looked at me; face hard, but eyes so full of anguish that I had to stop myself reaching out to him.

And then he left.

My insides went cold and heavy in protest. There was that lump of pain in my heart again. Great.

James dragged his gaze back from the empty doorway. There was sorrow in his eyes too.

"Alice, love. I'm going to tell you a story and it's not an easy one for me to tell, or for you to hear. I suggest that you take something for your head and meet me downstairs. You need to understand these truths, for they will determine your very survival."

He stood gracefully and left the room without a second glance in my direction.

Well that was in no way ominous.

I took two Ibuprofens from the nightstand and pushed myself out of bed. The room was small and uneven, the walls were covered in dark wood panelling and the floor, varnished boards. I was still at the Spaniards Inn.

Venturing into the hallway, I found a small bathroom. My hair was a haystack. There was nothing I could do about it with the painful throbs that boomed through my head every time I moved so much as a solitary strand. Haystack it was then.

The Inn was deserted. It was still dark outside, so it had to be the early hours of the morning. The cold December air infiltrated the old building, which was powerless to repel the weather effectively. I shuddered as I made my way slowly down the stairs.

James and Thomas were not worried about my father Jonathan Device. If a man who had turned close to one hundred people into gargoyles, and held them captive with nothing but his own power, was not terrifying, then what was?

I had to get a grip. What was one more danger to me now?

It was just another history that touched me without including me, more relationships that were distant but oh, so close. My new friends, if that's what they were, had the events of four hundred years ago present in their minds. They had witnessed all the political, social and industrial developments that the world had seen since. It was awe-inspiring.

But these vampires, they already saw themselves as Gods.

They didn't need another disciple.

They wouldn't get one.

Taking a deep breath, I held my head high, pushed my chin out and strode confidently into the downstairs lounge. James motioned for me to join him at the bar. We sat side-by-side, a bottle of expensive looking Scotch and two glasses in front of us.

James poured the whiskey. I sat in silence, waiting for him to begin.

Ooh, is Alice about to learn some vampire history? Read on...