Playing Dead: Book One of The Whitechapel Chronicles

Chapter 31

I ran my fingers along the spines of the old books and breathed in the smell of the yellowing paper housed between crumbling covers. It was quieter in here; I liked it and savoured the peace it offered. I could imagine sitting in here, the fire roaring by my side as I sat curled up in Benjamin Garrick's armchair with a book in my lap. For a brief moment, I yearned for that, remembering the time when I used to sit on my balcony, with my legs propped up on the railings and feeling the sunlight on my face as I read and watched the world go by. How much I had watched and how little I had seen.

I heard the faintest of footsteps behind me and I whirled around to find Garrick standing there, so close that when he reached out a hand I instinctively sucked in a breath, but instead he reached up and hooked his fingers into the spine of a book near my head. Pulling it out slightly, I noted the old worn cover of Charles Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities.

Garrick smiled a small thin smile as he rubbed his thumb across the gold leaf title. "My father's favourite," he mused. "It was the best of times; it was the worst of times. You know sometimes, when I was first turned, he would sit in that chair and read out loud to me. It helped take my mind off the thirst, at least for a little while."

He sighed and pushed the book back into its place before turning back to look at me. "Are you hungry?" His dark eyes scanned mine intently and I felt my stomach growl it's response, only it was mixed with something deeper, something warm that spread out from the base of my stomach and down my thighs.

"It can wait," I said, feeling a small flush creep into my cheeks. He gave an arrogant smile and with his hand resting on the shelf by the side of my head, he leaned in a little closer.

"Well, if you're sure," he said, letting his eyes linger a little too long on my mouth. "But if you change your mind....."

"I won't," I said firmly, feeling the heat betray me. "Tell me more about Benjamin."

I saw a faint flicker of pain ripple across the surface of his dark eyes, but he blinked and shook it off quickly, turning away and walking over to his father's armchair. Sitting down, with his long legs stretched out in front of him, he reached up and untied his Mohawk and I was immediately struck by how young he looked with his long dark hair reaching down to his chin on one side. It seemed to soften his features and I would have guessed him to be a little over twenty in human years. Walking in front of the bookcases, my fingertips never breaking contact with the books, I watched him warily as he slumped back into the chair, half-imagining him with a skewed crown on his head; the arrogant vampire king on his throne.

"Benjamin Garrick, the human Benjamin Garrick was a doctor, born originally in the days of the Great Plague. With so many dying it was a miracle a newborn even survived those dark days and unfortunately for Benjamin, his parents eventually succumbed and he was adopted by his uncle Samuel Garrick. Samuel was a professor of geography, who had taught for many years at Oxford and having no children of his own he relished taking his only brothers child into his care. Together they travelled to many far flung places and through his uncle; Benjamin discovered his love for medicine. Even after Samuels's death, his wanderlust never diminished nor did his desire to help those who could not afford the medicines only the wealthy could purchase. However it was this philanthropic streak that led him to his untimely death and subsequent rebirth at just thirty-two years old."

Stepping lithely around the other chair, I slipped into the seat opposite him, curling my legs up underneath me, almost hypnotised by the soft tone in his voice as he spoke and the way his eyes lit up as he remembered his father.

"He was travelling alone the coastline of the Bulgarian Black Sea when he came across a small coastal village called Sozopol. Villagers there spoke of a terrible plague, one that affected the blood and had caused numerous deaths, mostly terrorising the men folk but some children had also been struck down. Intrigued by this mysterious illness, Benjamin decided to stay for a while and see if he could help the villagers who were so frightened that they had begun to talk all sorts of curious stories about how the village must be cursed by God, of how He had deserted them and left them in the charge of the Devil himself. They said that the Beast stalked the streets at night, some had heard him, scratching at the doors, enticing people to let him in." He grinned wickedly and raised an eyebrow. "Of course, Benjamin thought this was nothing but foolish hysteria and set out to prove to the villagers that it was some kind of virus, deadly of course, but hopefully treatable if he could work out a cure. On visiting a young boy struck down with the same malady and barely just beyond his ninth birthday, Benjamin was growing more and more frustrated when none of his investigations provided neither the reason for the sickness nor a cure. Pale, thin and mostly unconscious, one night the boy awoke suddenly, gasping for breath and clearly panicked. Maybe he knew the end was near and was petrified or maybe he knew this was his final opportunity to tell someone what had happened to him, but with his last ounce of strength he grasped Benjamin's hand and whispered vrykolakas, vrykolakas!"