Testimony of Children (Alice Gray Book 2)

18

Sneaking out onto the roof garden, I reached the fire escape that led to an alley at the back of the square. It had obviously not been used recently. Cursing my lack of co-ordination, the screech of metal scraped sharply as I stumbled down the iron steps.

Damn heels, why couldn't Stephen's mother own any flat soled shoes.

When I got to the bottom, I stopped. Duel sensations of cold clammy panic and the rhythmic thuds of blood pounding in my ears agitated me as I waited to see if anybody had been disturbed by my descent.

I couldn't quite believe my luck when no lights came on, and no sounds filtered through. They'd given me a room with a convenient escape route as a gesture of trust. Heavy guilt filtered through my blood stream when I considered the extent of my deception. I pushed it away. They'd done worse. How did I know if I could really trust them?

I took the Northern Line from Kings Cross to Golders Green and then a twenty minute walk through Hampstead Heath to the Spaniard's Inn.

It was only when I was deep in the dark heath that I realised my mistake.

I'd lived in London all my life. It hadn't even occurred to me that my new knowledge of the world would make this route quite so terrifying.

Eerily silent in the park, it seemed impossible that I was in the middle of a busy city. Every rustle in the undergrowth made me flinch until my heart was pounding so hard in my chest that I couldn't tell if the sounds came from me or the critters living in the woodland.

Something pale reflecting the moonlight drew my eyes to the side. Whatever it was had scurried away by the time that I'd turned my head. I cursed my love of folklore as the Inn's well-known ghost stories flitted in and out of my mind.

Goose bumps prickled my skin uncomfortably as I remembered that a Woman in White haunted the Inn's gardens. She inspired Bram Stoker's vampire Lucy Westenra, who roamed the heath preying on young children.

Now, as I was so close to meeting with James, the most powerful vampire in London, I wondered if the Inn's Woman in White was based on a real vampire. If that was the case, and vampires were monsters that preyed on young children, what the hell was I doing meeting one now?

I should have heeded Emily's warning. James had already given me a taste of his power, and I'd still come here alone.

I was an idiot. My life-force was clouding my judgement, making me arrogant. I was still human flesh and bone, however much the magic inflamed my ego, convincing me otherwise. Vampires were different. They were hard and fast with cruel eyes and sharp teeth.

Keeping my eyes down, I forged ahead until the lights of the Inn came into view.

Relief washed through me as I approached the narrowing in the road that occurred between the Inn and the tollhouse. They stood facing each other, as they had for many centuries, reminding me of just what I might face tonight. James could be infinitely older than these two buildings, which were amongst the oldest in London.

Something else prickled uncomfortably in my memory. There was a hanging tree on this road. Highwaymen who preyed on rich London merchants were strung up here as punishment.

Sweet chimes drew my head to the left, silver particles in the air formed human shapes, heads bent, limbs dangling. Familiar but consuming dread filled my insides making my own limbs sluggish and slow. I stumbled, my knees landing heavily on the concrete pavement. Pain shot up my legs, as I braced myself on the floor trying to draw breath into my frozen lungs.

Icy, creeping despair settled into me as my heart rate slowed.

This was the fate of my ancestors.

Making myself take one step after another, I progressed towards the ancient building. The chimes continued; sweet sounds jarring against the hopeless atmosphere of this place of pain and death.

I hurried towards the light streaming from the Inn's windows before the hanging tree's echo of desperation could consume me.

No turning back for Alice now!
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