Chapter Twenty-four.
A s mentioned earlier, I first saw Eden at a pub near to Barking Train Station in January 1994. A rather vile and nasty piece of work from Forrest Gate, named Ranson, had hit my radar, and the search had led me to this pub.
On entering the smoky haze, I was focused on him. The target was with friends, and I took a seat next to the bar. A bartender asked what I wanted to drink, and I ordered a whisky. Focused, I didn’t pay much attention to her, as I was completely engrossed with my quarry.
Undoubtedly, Ranson felt that someone was watching him because he lifted his head and began glancing around. Quickly, I turned away before Ranson’s gaze fell upon me. I sensed Ranson glance at me before returning to drinking with his mates. Clever bugger sat with his back to the wall so he could see the crowd.
I did not turn round to watch Ranson again, as I didn’t want him to realise he was being followed. That would make the chase tedious, and Ranson’s friends might intervene. They were guilty of shit too, but they were for tomorrow’s hunt. I had no grudge against them tonight. Disappearing six men in one night would raise questions.
Instead, I turned my scrutiny to the barmaid who had served me. A guy called her name: Eden.
The pub wasn’t that busy, as it was still early in the evening. I observed curiously as she talked to one of the regulars. Something about Eden caught my regard, and I paid closer attention.
I liked how Eden genuinely laughed at a joke he told and the way she was friendly but reserved towards him. Eden was only young, twenty-three, perhaps twenty-four.
Then shock swamped me as Eden turned towards me. Luckily, Eden was not looking at me because I couldn’t control my reaction. Eden turned back to serve the drink, but that brief glimpse was enough for me to recognise her.
Elizabeth!
The features were different, but there was no doubt that it was Elizabeth’s soul reborn. I was unaware of how long I sat there, stunned and lost in memories. The next thing I knew was Eden asking me if I wanted another drink.
Dumbly, I nodded, and then she looked into my eyes.
Recognition flickered on Eden’s face, to be replaced by puzzlement.
“Do I know you?” Eden asked, serving a whisky.
“In another lifetime.”
Eden laughed. “That’s original.”
“What?”
“The chat up line. I’m married, mate,” Eden proclaimed, waving a ring under my nose.
That problem could soon be resolved.
“I see. Still, I maintain we were acquainted.” “That’s much appreciated, but I’m happily wed.”
Somehow, the statement rang false, and I stared into Eden’s eyes. Unhappiness was prevalent, and I guessed she was lying.
“Congratulations, I’m happy for you,” I said.
Eden smiled as she took my money and turned away. Spellbound, I watched her walk down to the end of the bar to serve someone else. Eden was playing havoc with my self-control, as I wanted to blurt everything out. But I had learnt from Julia about obsessive love and knew that I should leave.
Ranson saved me by leaving the pub. With a sigh of relief, I followed Ranson and caught him in the car park at Vicarage Fields.
Ranson put up bit of a fight but was no match for brute strength. Deftly, I drained him and took his body to the tunnels in Mayesbrook Park. Dumping him down one of them, I sauntered home to my small home in Dagenham.
Returning to the pub tempted me, yet I resisted. Eden was nothing like Elizabeth in appearance, yet she seemed so familiar. Eden also would have a different personality to Elizabeth, that was to be expected.
Elizabeth and Eden may share the same soul, but they were different people, and I had to remember that.
On reaching my modest house, I let myself in and sat all night, lost in happy memories of Elizabeth. I recalled Elizabeth’s laugh and smile and how she would look when she said she loved me. The first time we met was a sharp memory and how it had led to a great love affair.
Tragically, I also remembered Elizabeth dying and my heart breaking. Dare I get involved with a mortal again? Elizabeth’s soul had broken my heart once, and I had never fully recovered. Often, in my darkest, loneliest moments, I’d daydreamed of holding Elizabeth in my arms. I would come alert, sobbing and feeling an emptiness that I had not suffered since Inka left.
But the image of the barmaid and the unhappiness in Eden’s eyes kept interrupting my thoughts. Eventually, I resolved not to see Eden again, but deep down, I sensed we would meet somewhere down the line.
That meeting came sooner than expected and actually happened the next day. And it was Eden who found me.
I had popped up to the Roundhouse shops (the apex of Lodge Avenue and Porters Ave) and left the post office when I heard a friendly voice.
“Hello again, stranger.”
Surprised, I turned round, and Eden stood in front of me. She had two bags of heavy shopping and was wearing a thick leather coat against the winter wind.
“Hi, my name is Jacques, and you are?” I smiled.
“Eden.”
“Now we’re no longer strangers. Those look heavy. Can I carry one?” I offered, taking one of the bags. Then laughing, I pretended to drop it. “How can someone so tiny carry two heavy bags?”
“Oh, you got the heavy one, I’m afraid,” Eden answered as we began walking. Eden crossed over at the crossing and carried on past the Roundhouse Pub and onto Lodge Avenue.
“Do you live far?” I asked, searching for something to say.
“No, near Mayesbrook Park. I have a house that backs onto it,” she replied. “Am I taking you out of your way? You needn’t carry that. I can manage.”
Eden tried to take the bag, and I pulled it out of her reach.
“No, I’m also headed that way. I live on Davington Road, so I can escort you home and cut down Neasham Road.”
“That’s kind of you. Are you usually this gallant?”
“Only to a lady in distress with two heavy shopping bags.”
In minutes, we reached Eden’s house and stood outside uncomfortably.
“When I asked if I knew you, that wasn’t a chat up line. This feeling hit when I saw you, a bit like Déjà vu,” Eden blurted.
“Eden, that wasn’t a chat-up line when I claimed I met you in a previous life.”
The words hung awkwardly in the air, and Eden smiled. “You’re very strange.”
“Is that a compliment or an insult?” I mused and then put the bag down on her doorstep.
“Fancy a coffee?”
“That would be nice, but—”
“Naturally, you’re busy.”
“Oh, no, nothing urgent. I was wondering what your husband would say.”
There it was again, a subtle darkening near the eyes. Something was wrong, and although I guessed Eden wouldn’t tell a stranger. Eventually, Eden might confide in a friend.
“Jack’s not due home for a few hours. Anyway, it is just coffee I am inviting you in for.”
Cheerfully smiling, I followed Eden into the house. It was quite small, a three-bedroom terrace. The living room was off to the left, and the kitchen backed onto it. The bathroom and bedrooms were upstairs.
Eden’s house was nicely decorated. The walls were painted in pastel shades and not wallpapered. The kitchen was tiny, and I stood in the hallway as Eden put the kettle on and began to unpack the bags of shopping.
On the fridge were some photos, and I glanced at them. They featured Eden and a man who I imagined was the husband. He was tall, I would judge about six foot three, with dark brown hair and a pleasant face. Yet something about the way he smiled made my skin crawl. There was a photo of her pregnant, and I looked at Eden in surprise. There was a child!
“What did you have?” I asked.
Eden turned towards me in puzzlement. I nodded at the photo, and I realised that there were no photos of a baby anywhere.
Cursing silently, I anticipated what was coming.
“Elizabeth was stillborn. I lost her thirty-two weeks into the pregnancy. That was over a year and a half ago,” Eden explained softly.
In surprise, I reeled back. It was clear Eden had given her dead child the name that she herself had in her previous life. Simultaneously, I regretted causing such pain. “Sorry.”
“That’s okay. You couldn’t have known. Now I can talk about Elizabeth, although it took me months to get over her death. I blamed myself, although the doctors said that there was nothing that could have saved her.”
“How did Elizabeth die?”
“The umbilical cord got wrapped around her throat. By the time doctors realised, and I’d had a caesarean, Elizabeth was already gone. It was devastating. I’d so longed for a child, but it was not meant to be. Her name is Elizabeth. I have always liked that name.”
“Sorry, Eden,” I repeated, following Eden into the living room.
Eden sat down on an armchair and curled her legs up under her.
“It was a while ago. I miss Elizabeth and long to hold her, but it will never be. I try not to dwell on it. Jack, my husband, won’t talk about her. He… well, Jack does not show his emotions easily. But then what man does?”
Eden smiled and asked what I did for a living, a complete change of subject, and one that I willingly took up.
“Not a lot, I have money that allows me to live comfortably and indulge my hobbies. I like to read and am usually found with my nose in a book. I’m also interested in the paranormal and tend to be a bit of an investigator.”
“That’s an interesting life you lead. Once, I would have loved to have studied archaeology. Instead, I married Jack at seventeen, and life became about making a home for us. Honestly, I didn’t get a job till a year ago. Jack belongs to the old school where a woman’s place is in the house. After Elizabeth’s death, he allowed me to get a job as I was going slowly mad. Jack recognised my need to interact with other people and gave in. Jack has quite a good job, so we don’t really need the money.”
Another coincidence was Eden marrying a Jack. Jack-Jacques. I didn’t like the words Eden was using, allowed, old school, gave in. They spoke of a control freak.
“Isn’t this cosy?” a male voice drawled from the doorway. I turned and took an instant dislike to the bastard standing there.
Eden jumped like a startled deer, and fear flitted across her face. “Jack! You’re home early.”
“Yes, I was owed some time and thought I would surprise you,” he said. Jack’s steps were deliberate as he crossed the room and wrapped an arm possessively around Eden’s shoulders. That was a clear warning signal.
“Jacques helped me back with the shopping, and I offered him a coffee as a thank you.”
“That’s very kind,” Jack said, his tone saying otherwise.
Struggling to control my urge to rip Jack’s throat out, I rose to my feet and put my mug on the table.
“Well, I must get going,” I announced as Eden followed me to the front door.
I let myself out and strolled down the road. It was hard to force myself to leave, but for now, I had to. Eden had no idea who or what I was.
On opening my senses, I overheard Jack shouting and Eden begging him ‘not to start. It meant nothing. It was just a coffee.’
Anger rising, I forced myself away from the house and walked slowly home. Well , mate , I thought, I saw Eden first .
◆◆◆
That same night, I went to the pub where Eden worked and spotted her talking to another barmaid. Eden was pale but otherwise looked okay. I made my way over to the bar and waited till she turned round. Eden’s face lit up with a genuine smile, and she unhurriedly came over.
“Jacques, I hoped I would see you again. I want to apologise for my husband’s behaviour. Jack’s day proved difficult, leaving him irritable.”
“No need to apologise, at least no reason for you to apologise. Is Jack always like that?”
“No. Well, not every time. Jack is in a stressful job and sometimes takes it out on me. I am sorry that Jack was so rude today.”
“It’s you I’m sorry for, for putting up with that in front of guests,” I said baldly.
Eden blanched and reached out to get a glass for me. “Whisky?”
“You remembered!”
“Yes, I have a good memory of what customers drink. That’s why I enjoy this job so much. It gives me a chance to use my brains a little.”
“I guess so,” I answered, and there was an awkward pause.
“Are you married?” Eden blurted.
“Yes, but it ended years ago.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“You like that word, don’t you? You keep saying it. Eden, you should try stopping apologising for every little thing. Truthfully, I’m not sorry that my marriage is over. It has been for years. Inka became someone I didn’t recognise.
“Luckily, we have not seen each other for God knows how long, and it doesn’t really matter. We had a son, Michael, but again, I haven’t seen Michael in ages. Michael and I fell out, too. He took his mother’s side without knowing the truth. I’m probably difficult to get along with.”
“I’m sor—I wouldn’t say that. Jacques, I find you easy to talk to.”
“I do my best, my lady,” I said, doffing an imaginary hat.
Eden giggled.
I laughed, too, before sensing a cold presence. I turned stiffly, confronting a vampire. The intruder smirked as I recognised her for what she was, and I felt the blood of a Vam’pir running through her.
Cheekily, she ordered a gin and tonic and sat in front of the windows.
Curiously, I excused myself from Eden, inquisitive as to what a vampire would be doing in my territory. The rabble had been cleaned out years ago, and I was the only immortal in London.
She studied me coldly, like I was under a microscope, as I sat opposite her. I wasn’t going to speak first, and she seemed to be challenging me. We sat silently, observing one another for an hour. I was damned if I spoke first.
Finally, she broke the silence and said in a sultry voice, “You’re the big bad, Vam’pir Jacques. Not what I expected. You look quite normal.”
“Thank you. Since you are aware of my identity, shouldn’t you reciprocate with yours?”
“Yes, I suppose it would. Amelia.”
“Nice name.”
“I think so. Very old-fashioned, but I’m not that type of girl.”
“One of Nathan’s?”
“No, I have yet to find Nathan. I’ve heard of him. Seems Nathan is as big a troublemaker as what you are. Unlike you, Nathan didn’t take that extra step.”
Amelia was trying to get at my temper, and I had no intention of allowing her to. She was baiting me boldly. If Amelia didn’t watch herself, she would get more than what she bargained for.
“Nothing to say on the subject?” Amelia taunted.
In silence, I merely stared, and Amelia sighed. “Pity, it would have been interesting to learn your side of the story. Wouldn’t you like to know the reason for my presence?”
I shrugged and remained quiet.
“You’re a hard one. Anyway, I was sent to find you by another. That is what I do, locate missing vampires or Vam’pirs.”
“A kind of vampire private detective? Hate to tell you this, but I am not lost. Have never been and will never be.”
“No, but this person gave me your name for emergencies.”
“Why doesn’t he extend his senses? Your mystery man can find me if he wishes.”
“Who said it’s a man?”
“Get on with it while I make my mind up whether I let you live or not.”
“Ana is my sire,” Amelia replied quickly.
“And? You claim you know my past. Do you really think I wouldn’t kill you if I wanted to? London, which includes Dagenham, is off-limits. My reputation for killing is not exaggerated,” I responded.
That got her. Amelia froze and studied me again, this time seeing the real killer looking at her. She flicked her hair out of her face.
“I killed one of my own; don’t tempt me, little girl,” I hissed.
Amelia paled. “James Hamilton needs your help.”
“Why didn’t James come himself?”
“He’s unable to. James is trapped somewhere, and I cannot find him.”
Interested, I sat up straight and looked deep into Amelia’s eyes.
“Where? Who the hell could capture a Vam’pir?”
“I don’t know. Can’t you hear James calling?”
I searched for James’s presence and found nothing. Relaxing, I focused my search even further, still nothing.
“How can you detect James and I cannot? Is this a setup? There is no reason for me to help James,” I asked suspiciously.
There was more to this than what Amelia was saying.
“I love James. Maybe that’s why I can hear him. James is in great pain and near to Dagenham, but I can’t find him. I need assistance. James was meant to meet me in Sheffield three weeks ago but never arrived.”
“James may have fallen out of love with you.”
“No!” Amelia said in instant denial, and I sensed she was telling the truth.
Amelia had wanted to get the measure of me before requesting help. Her initial coldness stemmed from this. Now I saw Amelia’s real feelings in her eyes.
“What happened when James didn’t show up?”
“Well, I searched all of Sheffield and found no trace of him. Then I sensed him weakly and followed the direction I sensed James sending from. As I got closer and closer to London, I began to sense James faintly. James is injured, and something’s hurting him, but I can’t tell what.”
I cursed under my breath. Shit.
“What else?”
“That’s it. Only I think that James is somewhere in Epping Forest. In one of the large houses, but I dare not go there alone, and Ana is out of my reach. I was hoping that maybe you could contact Vam’pirs for help.”
“Wrong person. They’ll not help me. Hell, the assholes won’t talk to me.”
“But they surely would not deny James help?” Amelia asked, desperation in her voice.
“No. The thing is, Amelia, the Vam’pirs have shut themselves off to me. Assholes won’t answer my call. Contacting them is impossible.”
“What do I do? James hasn’t got long before something terrible happens.”
“You’ve got me, and that is sufficient. James is strong, as are you, but neither of you is a pure Vam’pir. The strength and skills we have were developed by millennia of learning and gaining. No one is a match for me, not even another Vam’pir, as I’m too strong. Those who we bless with our blood are strong, but never as strong as one of us. That is a proven fact.”
“What will you do? Why do you do this, there is no love lost between James and you?”
“Because I owe James big time. I owe James too much to allow people to torture him. And because I see love shining out of your eyes whenever you speak his name. James deserves such adoration. I’m pleased that James has found someone who could love him as much as…”
“Elizabeth. I’m aware of her, and I think Elizabeth was a wise and good-hearted woman. She never judged James or you, and I would endeavour to be like her.”
“You could not have set yourself a better example. If James loves you, set your fears at rest. That means that James loves you, and there’s a reason for that. James probably sees aspects of Elizabeth in you, but that does not mean that he doesn’t see you.”
“Hope so,” Amelia replied.
“Contacting James’s sworn enemy for help is courageous. Especially with my reputation. You had no idea what reaction you would receive, and yet you still came.”
“I had to.”
“Because you love James, and I have no doubt that James would do the same for you.”
“Do you think so?”
“I know so. Do not think that James loves you because you remind him of Elizabeth. James is not petty like that. He loves you for what you are. You are not Elizabeth and will never be. Amelia, being yourself is enough.”
“I sometimes wonder if—”
“ Don’t. James loved Elizabeth, yes, but it was not an all-consuming love. We have many loves in our lives. That’s an obvious fact considering the number of years that we live. If James is with you, then he loves you, for I saw James shut out emotions from his life. James has opened up to you because you are something truly remarkable. Now, shall we get going?”
Amelia nodded her head, thankful that she had somebody who would help her.
As we left the pub, I caught the look that Eden gave me. It was one that lumped me in with her husband as a womaniser. From Eden’s point of view, Amelia was someone I had just picked up.
In a way, Amelia was.
We ran to Epping Forest, taking no more than a few seconds to arrive. That gave us six or seven hours before the sun rose. Once there, I could sense James faintly, but Amelia was aware of his location. We found ourselves standing outside a badly run-down house that needed a lick of paint and a good builder and carpenter.
“James is in there,” Amelia whispered.
Taking Amelia’s word for it, we crept into the garden or driveway, as it was massive. Cautiously, I turned the front doorknob, and the door swung open soundlessly. Strangely, I could sense people, but they were not in the house.
Puzzled, I stood still and reached out.
Ah, clever! They were under the home.
“There must be a cellar,” I whispered.
Amelia nodded, her senses telling her the same thing.
I was unaware of what or who was inside, and I was wary. Someone somehow had captured a strong Vam’pir. And holding James prisoner meant these people were dangerous.
We searched the downstairs for an entrance and came up empty-handed.
Our second attempt yielded the same results.
I motioned Amelia to the stairs, and we crept up them. The upstairs was as empty as the bottom floor, and I sat down stumped. How did you enter the cellar?
Amelia discovered the entrance when she went back downstairs and found a hidden doorway that we had first missed.
Actually, Amelia bumped into a man coming out of it and killed him. The crack as Amelia broke his neck echoed, and we paused, expecting someone else to emerge. No one did.
The door led into an elevator, and we entered warily. It opened into a long hallway with doors leading off it. The doors were locked and unlabelled.
I reasoned that we were in some kind of underground laboratory. A sizable lab at the end of the hallway verified this. We looked through the glass and pulled back as we saw people hurrying about inside of it. We knelt on the floor and peered cautiously through again.