Chapter 51
Chapter Fifty-One
A full moon lit up the night sky, but dark clouds threatened to obscure it. A storm was preparing to break at any moment.
Our carriage lumbered along London’s well-worn streets, providing Marcus and I with a dramatic view of the shifting landscapes as we both gazed out of the window, deep in thought.
My mind was on Jacob. I hoped that my son had found somewhere warm and safe to shelter. It was still difficult for me to think of him somewhere out there, alone. The sprawling city was an impossible place to find a small boy.
Marcus sensed my melancholy and broke the silence. “I’ve always wondered what it felt like to be in one of these.”
With his hair tied back and dressed in his new attire, he’d completely transformed his appearance and, like me, he now passed for a wealthy gentleman.
“Do you think we’ll ever see the Creda again?” he asked.
“I’m more concerned about Archer.”
“Why?”
“He warned me to get out of London.”
“That’s strange.” Marcus’ gaze narrowed. “I thought they wanted us all dead.”
“Must have impressed him with my charm.” I sighed. “What if Jacob doesn’t recognize me?”
“A son always knows his father.”
The homes had gone from small shacks to luxurious residences in a matter of minutes. The tower of London loomed large in the distance.
“Sunaria’s not happy that we’re living with you, is she?” Marcus watched my reaction.
“She’ll get over it.” I avoided his gaze.
Our carriage swerved to miss a small, black dog. The animal yelped at the near miss and bolted down a back alley, and the horseman quickly regained control of our spooked horses.
“You didn’t even flinch.” Marcus still clutched the seat.
“What’s the worst that can happen?”
“Do you really believe we’re immortal?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“So how old are you?”
“Thirty.”
“How long have you been…thirty?”
“About six years.”
“I’m not half as impressed now.” He smiled.
I focused on the pedestrians, and tried to extract a thought, or some sense of who they were before they disappeared from sight.
My mind braved revisiting a disturbing memory, one that I’d buried deep, but now felt compelled to reveal to Marcus.
A monstrous recollection that I hoped he could cope with as I now disclosed it to him.
Marcus’ smile faded as he picked up on my ruminations.
“You drank from Lilly and...” He sank back in his seat, devastated.
“I assumed if I told you in a speeding carriage, you wouldn’t jump out, and you’d have no choice but to hear my side.”
“Delacroix forced you to do it?”
I nodded. “Still, I deserve your hatred.”
He reached forward and rested his hand on my knee, and in that moment, we shared something unexpected, a mutual understanding that went beyond the physical.
He looked away, embarrassed that he’d revealed such affection. “I still can’t quite believe that we can avoid...”
“Death’s sting.” I tilted my head and smiled at him. “The Stone Masters believe that we can reform from ash.”
Marcus stared at me wide-eyed.
“Outlandish, I know,” I said.
Marcus looked out of the window again.
I followed his gaze. “The self-discovery seems unending.”
“Will God ever forgive us?”
“Likely you more than me.”
“You didn’t choose this life?”
“No, but I revel in the darkness.”
He seemed surprised. “You like what we are?”
I shrugged. “I do so far.”
“How old is Sunaria?”
“You’d better ask her that question.”
He chuckled.
“I want to open an orphanage,” I said.
“Where did that come from?” Marcus leaned forward. “And why?”
“For all the right reasons.”
“And the money?”
“Not an issue.”
“I’d like to help in any way I can.”
I gave a nod.
“We’ll have fun tonight, eh?” Marcus said.
I rested my feet on the seat opposite. “You look good.”
“Having to shave three times a day is bothersome, though.”
“As you’ve discovered, when we’re turned, we keep the same look, and as stubble is considered passé...”
“I’m feeling awfully dapper.” He pulled at his shirt collar. “You still haven’t told me where we’re going.”
“King’s Court.”
Marcus’ jaw dropped.
I slid down in the seat and closed my eyes.
“The King’s Court?”
I opened one eye. “Blue blood, I hear, is a delicacy.”