Between Darkness & Light Read online

  Stephen glanced up. “Some kind of meditation I think.”

  “Oh. Interesting reading?” I asked, glancing over his shoulder.

  Stephen carefully shut the Bible. “I guess.” He glanced at Kali, then back at me. “Do you believe in God, Julia?” he asked quietly.

  I concentrated on the flame of his candle. “I used to. When I was much younger I did. Now though . . . I do not know. You should have asked if I believe God cares about me.”

  “And?”

  “And I do not think God gives a damn about me. I have asked for help and He hasn’t answered. No one has. I guess I’m not worth

  any . . . divine intervention.”

  “Are you sure no one has answered?” Kali asked.

  I turned to look at her again. She was still staring at her candle. I frowned. “Yes. Why would they? After what I’ve done, no one will want to help, least of all some divine beings.”

  “I know you’re in pain, Julia, however –”

  “My pain is nothing compared to the pain I’ve caused,” I retorted.

  “Yes, it is just as valid. You deserve help as much as anyone else. You are lost and confused. God does not turn His back on the lost and confused, Julia. Only to evil.”

  “I am evil.”

  “No. There’s a difference. You will see.”

  “Whatever you say, Kali.” I picked up a piece of paper and charcoal. I began drawing aimlessly. It was not art comparable to Leonardo or Michelangelo but I suppose it wasn’t awful. And it was a way to pass time.

  Stephen left the room about an hour later. I looked up when I heard a door open in the hall. Samuel stumbled out of his room and gazed around with red-rimmed eyes. The white shirt he was wearing was open and crumpled. Catching sight of me watching him, he scowled and turned to head for his refuge, the library.

  Before he had stepped inside, Mary Anne came downstairs. “Sam?” she asked from the last step.

  “What?”

  “Sandro wants to know if you’re going to run the meeting, Samuel. After all, we need to discuss the problem of the Hunters that are in the area.”

  Samuel dropped his hand and looked at her. “What meeting?” he asked blankly.

  “The one that’s supposed to be tonight.”

  “Oh. That meeting. You run it. I have a headache. I’m going to stay here.”

  “I wonder why? How much did you drink last night, Samuel? You had passed out before you even got home.”

  “Ten glasses . . . I think.”

  “You were out for an hour at most!”

  “Yes? And what’s this about Hunters?”

  “Matthew saw one when you were out drinking.”

  “Oh. Tell everyone hello for me.” He lifted his hand to open the door of the library again.

  “Why don’t you tell them yourself, Samuel? You haven’t gone to a meeting in over a year. And you do not sound too worried about the Hunters.”

  “I’m not going to tell them. I have no desire to. And I don’t care if Hunters are around or not. It’s not my problem; you are all big boys and girls.”

  Mary Anne sighed and walked to him. “Samuel, they’re worried about you. Frankly, so am I. You barely talk to any of us anymore.” She reached out and touched his shoulder. “Sam, acting like this isn’t helping anyone, least of all you. Talk to her.”

  Samuel brushed her hand off his shoulder. “Talk to whom?”

  “Julia. This is tearing you apart, Samuel. Talk to her. Tell her how you feel.”

  Samuel shook his head. “No.” He looked over at me. “Ti odio, Julia,” he snapped and slammed the door behind him.

  It took me a moment to figure out what he said. As soon as I understood it, tears stung my eyes as I struggled to form words. Mary Anne turned toward me. “I think he just told me how he feels about me,” I mumbled.

  Mary Anne looked toward the library door, then back at me. “Oh Jesu . . . you understood what he said?”

  “Yes. He said, ‘I hate you.’ Blunt enough, right?” I answered, getting up. Without waiting for an answer, I fled the room before the tears could fall.

  “Julia – wait!”

  I grabbed my cloak and hurriedly left the house again. I slipped the garment on as I walked, not having a clear idea where I was going. Nor did I care.

  When I stopped to look around, I found I was in one of the poorer areas of town. There were some people sleeping in the grass under blankets. After debating a moment, I knelt down and fed off of one of the men. It was the first blood I had taken in almost a week. Another vampire approached on my right as I got back to my feet.

  She stopped a couple feet away and looked me over. “So, this is where you ended up, Julia. Valentino wondered where you disappeared to,” she said in English.

  I studied her, noting she was several inches taller than me. Her dark brown hair was braided and her eyes watched me as intently as I did her. A Non-Resistance vampire. I was surprised to see one in Florence since it was under the Resistance’s control. This was one complication in my life I did not need. “I do not care.”

  The woman narrowed her eyes. “Oh, that’s right. I heard you are back in bed with Samuel. Though I cannot figure out why he would take you back.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “Look, lady, I do not know where you get your information from, but you could not be further from the truth. Samuel and I aren’t even on speaking terms.”

  She smiled. “Does that mean you are not with them?”

  “I did not say that. Valentino isn’t here, is he?” I asked uneasily.

  “No. He is back in France. Are you sure you do not want to come to France? He will be happy to see you got away from Samuel again.”

  I made a face. “I’m not interested in seeing him. I have nothing more to discuss with you,” I said and turned away.

  “And what kind of life do you have here staying with Samuel’s group? It is not like he’s ever going to forgive you. Nor are any of the rebels going to trust you again.” I shuddered as I heard genuine bewilderment in her voice.

  I shrugged and stepped away. “It’s none of your business,” I called back.

  “Suit yourself, Julia. However, this part of Italy is a dangerous place to be in right now when you have no one to trust.”

  I turned back to her angrily. “I have no one but myself, that’s true. But that is all I ever really had. Do not make the mistake of underestimating me.” I smiled humorlessly. “It may prove deadly. You’ll be wise to keep your friends and yourself away from me.”

  I walked away and the vampire did not follow. To hell with going to France. If I did that, I would prove Matthew’s and Samuel’s point. And then there would be no hope of reuniting with Samuel. As it was, the chances of it happening seemed to grow dimmer every day.

  I turned and trudged toward the house. I was in no particular hurry to get back. I was only returning home this soon because the one other thing I wanted to do while out tonight is drink. Ordinarily, I would not think twice about it; however, after my near encounter with the Hunter last night, I decided to be extra careful. I did not want to meet one of them when I’m drunk and alone, especially since I do not know of many vampires at this particular time that would help me if such a situation occurred.

  It would be better to go home and raid the alcohol supply there. That is, if there’s any left. Who knows, maybe Samuel has drunk it all by now. At that thought, I stopped and frowned. Maybe I should talk to Mary Anne about hiding the alcohol. Lord knows, Samuel has been drinking too much. I could almost kick myself for proving that vampires could indeed get drunk. Of course, now I think Samuel has proven we can get hangovers as well. It just takes a lot more for us than it does for humans.

  I shook my head and resumed walking. I needed to stop thinking. Or else I won’t need ghosts or hallucinations to make myself crazy. All my thinking will do it for me.

  I looked up as another vampire passed me. He didn’t stop to talk, or give me more than a glance. Instead, he
rushed past me, looking worried. I had no way of knowing whether he was Resistance or not.

  A little later, three humans also passed by hurriedly. At first I thought nothing of it. I took a couple more steps in the direction of the house, and stopped. The little hairs at the nape of my neck stood on end. I had the sudden feeling that something was not right. I stood still a moment and felt eyes watching me. I knew it wasn’t my mind playing tricks on me. There is no other feeling in the world that comes close to the creepy feeling you get when someone is watching you.

  I slowly turned and saw one of the three humans who had hurried past me now twenty feet away. He studied me with keen interest. The other two humans, a woman and a man, were farther down the street.

  The man watching me was about six feet tall, unusually tall, for around here. He wore a hat, but I could tell he had dark hair, deep brown or maybe black. I had never seen him before in my life. However, I stared at him uneasily. Something about him scared me to the core of my being and it had nothing to do with the stakes I could see he carried. Yes, he was a Hunter, which meant those two were as well . . . but that wasn’t what frightened me. For some reason he reminded me of my dead husband and he wasn’t looking at me the way a hunter would look at prey. It was something else entirely. But what it was, I didn’t know.

  “Stefan, che cosa sono voi che fate?! Andiamo; altro quello sta andando via!” the woman shouted, sounding exasperated.

  The Hunter Stefan glanced toward them. Their companion continued, “Donna è giusta. Dovremmo continuare con il piano. Potete sempre ottenere questo successivamente.”

  I eyed them warily. The Hunter closest to me, the one they called Stefan, appeared to have deviated from a plan they had been following. Why?

  He looked back at me with a half-smile. “Juliana,” he purred and headed toward the other two Hunters.

  The unexpected use of my entire given name jerked me out of the strange paralysis that had engulfed me. Blind fear made me spin and race toward the house, without stopping to ponder how he had known my given name, or the more curious fact that he had said it in English. My husband had been the only one who had ever called me Juliana. I always preferred Julia for that reason. I know how hearing it affects me. Being called by the Italian version of Juliana, which was how Matthew had addressed me the other day, doesn’t bother me. The difference between the pronunciation may seem slight to everyone else, but to me they’re as different as night and day.

  I did not stop running until I was safely inside the house, slamming the door and locking it behind me. I slid to the floor shaking. “How did he know my name?” I whispered. “How could he possibly know my name?”

  After a few minutes, I could come up with only one logical explanation. One of my ka-tet was playing a practical joke on me, except I did not think it was funny. I seriously doubted it was Mary Anne. That left Jeffrey, Matthew, or Samuel.

  Jeffrey? I slowly shook my head. He was as likely to do it as Mary Anne. Matthew? Yes, I could see now how he would get delight out of seeing me panic. Except for one flaw in the theory. It was a Hunter that had called me by name. I could see where he would pay a normal human or a vampire to call me Juliana, but a Hunter? I am not sure that Matthew would come within ten feet of a Hunter who might turn on him.

  That left Samuel, who was probably laughing his head off in the library now. It kind of made sense. Samuel called me by my full given name for spite and he would likely go to any length to hurt me now; even if it meant paying off a Hunter to give me the scare of my life.

  As soon as my shaking died down enough that I could stand again, I stormed over to the library. “Very funny, Samuel!” I yelled and flung open the door. “You really had me going for a bit!”

  I was surprised to find he wasn’t laughing. He sat in a wooden chair with one foot resting on a stool. His expression was annoyed when he turned to me. “What the bloody hell is your problem? I was just starting to forget you still live here and you barged in and ruined it.”

  “Do not act all innocent! That was quite a trick you played, not that I have any idea how you pulled it off.”

  “What are you talking about now?” he asked, irritated. “I thought what I had told you earlier would be enough to get you to leave me alone!”

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about!” I hurried over and stood, glowering at him.

  “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re going on about,” Samuel replied and lifted a bottle of whiskey to his lips. He took a long drink, and set it down.

  “How dare you tell a complete stranger my given name, let alone a Hunter of all people?” I hissed back. I was so angry, that I slapped him before I realized that confusion had filled his eyes.

  He winced, then looked back at me. “I do not know what you’re talking about. I haven’t told anyone anything about you.”

  I stood with my hand raised and stared at him. My hand began to tremble as I saw nothing that would suggest that he was lying. Samuel really didn’t know what I was talking about. “Oh God. If you didn’t say anything, how did he know my name?” I whispered. I didn’t wait for a reply. I took the stairs up to my room two at a time.

  Once inside, I shut my door and collapsed to the floor in tears. I began trembling again and could not stop to save my life. Finally, I cried myself into fitful sleep.

  For the first time in decades, I dreamt about the night Marie was murdered. My nightmare followed the horrific events of that evening; same as it had done before, starting with me coming back from the market. However, at the point where he would have dragged me to the back room, the dream inexplicably changed.

  Gregory sneered down at me. I still lay on the floor beside our daughter. I looked up and saw he had pulled out a stake. “This time no one can help you. You’re mine, Juliana.” He looked toward the door and raised the stake. Someone broke down the door and Gregory rushed them.

  I awoke screaming. After a moment or two, I recognized my bedroom, but it did nothing to soothe me. I curled up into a ball, whimpering. No one came to my door to find out if I was all right. I remembered decades ago when Samuel or someone else would try to comfort me when I still had nightmares. This time there was none. The knowledge of this filled me with aching sorrow. I didn’t understand why I was dreaming about this now after all these years or why the dream had changed.

  After a long while, I got to my feet. Trembling, I cleaned the tears off my face and got dressed. How had that Hunter known my name? The only way I could find that out was to learn more about him. That, of course, would require some snooping around town.

  I headed downstairs and found Jeffrey cooking some stew. He looked at me with a small frown. “I heard you had a fit in the library last night. That you even slapped Samuel.”

  I shrugged and walked to the door, not wanting to answer any more questions.

  “Julia, what happened last night?”

  “I do not want to talk about it,” I replied. I opened the door and slammed it behind me.

  I headed to the tavern I had gone to a couple of nights ago. I walked up to the bar and flagged down the bartender. At first he ignored me. I waved some gold Florentine coins in his face. “I want some information,” I said in Italian. “I’ll pay you well for it.”

  The man looked at the money in my hand, then back at me. His wary expression turned to elation. For the right amount of money, humans will ignore the fact that I was a woman out alone.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Anything about a man named Stefan. He comes around here, maybe with a woman named Donna. I think he might have been here two nights ago.”

  The man’s brows knitted together a moment, then smoothed out. “Oh, you must mean the Saladino twins. What do you want to know?”

  “I believe he was asking about me. However, I missed him the other night.” I shrugged innocently. “What can you tell me about them?”

  He leaned back and poured himself a drink. He looked me over again. “You look as if y
ou may be of English or Irish decent.”

  “English.”

  “Ah. Maybe that’s why he was asking about you; perhaps he wanted to ask you a question. Stefan’s mother was English. She married one of us. Her children seem curious of their English roots, heaven knows why.” The bartender curled his lip slightly in disgust.

  “I see,” I murmured. “Does Stefan speak English?”

  “A little possibly, but I do not think he’s fluent.”

  I frowned and got back up. “Grazie,” I said, tossing the coins to him and left.

  I had gotten a little more information about Stefan, although I still don’t know why he would call me by name . . . in English. The only thing I could think of was that he must be curious about England and wanted to talk to another English-born person. He probably heard my name in Italian and guessed the English pronunciation.

  I frowned to myself. Why would he attempt to talk to a vampire, English or not? Maybe he hadn’t realized I was a vampire . . . I had been cloaked; is it possible he did not recognize my nature? I turned back for home with an aggravated sigh. Maybe if I ignored it, this mystery would just disappear. One can always hope, right? I scowled at the empty street. Why wasn’t I convinced?

  As I walked, I realized why I was not persuaded. When I had followed Matthew and Samuel to that tavern, they had also been cloaked. Matthew had been in a hurry to leave once he had spotted the Hunter which would indicate that they knew by other means we were vampires.

  I shook my head. My conclusion was I simply had not been taught enough about Hunters. When I arrived home, I immediately looked for Mary Anne, figuring she would be the most willing to answer my questions. She was in her room, frowning over a piece of paper.

  “You look ready to scream,” I said lightly.

  She looked up wearily. “I am. Are you all right, Julia?”

  “I’m not sure,” I murmured.

  Mary Anne folded up the paper. “What happened, Julia? Maybe I can help.”

  “I saw Hunters last night. One of them called me by name.”

  “They must have been spying on you,” she said and looked back down at the paper. “It is not unusual; try not to let it bother you. Sometimes they try to scare vampires.”