Hunting Memories

Chapter 6

"No…nomore!" Eleisha cried, pulling out of Rose's mind.

Eleisha had fallen forward onto the floor, supporting herself on her forearms.

All she could see was Edward's face, and she was having trouble separating Rose's memories from her own. She was Rose. She felt everything Rose had gone through.

And to see Edward again, larger than life, his smile, his green eyes, to hear his laugh… She managed to partially disentangle her thoughts.

He had used her to try to heal himself.

She tried to push herself up.

"Eleisha!" Philip's voice cut through the haze.

She felt his hands latch onto her, one on her arm and the other around her waist, as he pulled her up against his chest-which was hard and cold. He held her tightly. She tensed for a moment and then pressed her face into his shoulder, gripping his shirt with her fingers.

Rose was making choking sounds from the shock of having relived her own life. Eleisha wondered why Rose had ever given her even an ounce of kindness.

She should hate me.

"What's wrong?" Seamus was asking in alarm. "What happened?"

Only Wade kept his head.

Eleisha could hear his feet on the carpet, and she shifted her face slightly to see him hurrying toward Rose.

"It's all right," he said. His voice was shaky, as he had relived all the same events, and coming out of these deep journeys was never easy. But Wade had been reading minds his whole life. He knelt beside Rose. "It's over."

"What was that?" she said in a choked voice. "How did you do that?"

He didn't answer. This was not the time to try to explain his ability to help others channel linear memories. Eleisha could manage as a guide up to a point, but not as well as he could.

"Put both palms against the floor," he said. "You're back in the apartment, in the present."

The sight of his calm efforts made Eleisha ashamed for hiding in Philip's chest, and she tried to pull back, but he tightened his arm.

"Let go," she said.

"That was too much," he said. "Too much for you."

For her? What about Rose?

"I'm all right."

He relaxed his hold and she sat up, looking at Rose, who stared back. Rose had known about her all this time.

"He never told me," Eleisha said.

Rose was becoming more composed, but Seamus kept looking back and forth between all of them in confusion.

"I know," Rose answered.

All of Edward's sins came crashing down on Eleisha: what he had done to Rose, to Seamus, and then his abandonment, and his heartless letter of how he was trying to make up for this tragedy by caring for her. How could he? And how could he not tell her? She had been his companion for nearly one hundred and seventy years. If only she had known.

She would make it up to Rose, all of it.

"How did Edward die?" Rose asked suddenly. "Did Julian kill him?"

Eleisha flinched. "No, he killed himself. I think he got tired of living."

Rose glanced away. "What about the others?"

"Maggie and William?" Eleisha glanced at Wade, uncertain how to answer.

"No, Julian didn't kill them, but that's a long story," he said. "And we're all pretty wrung out. I think… we all have questions that can wait."

This was certainly true. From what Eleisha had seen, Rose didn't even know why Julian had murdered some vampires and left others, like Edward, alone-because Edward hadn't known Julian was hunting only telepathic members of their kind. Rose didn't even know that she possessed the ability to feed without killing. They still had a good deal to talk about.

Eleisha tilted her head back to look up at Philip. "Do you believe she is not working for Julian now?"

He nodded stiffly, but she couldn't tell what he was thinking. What had Rose's memories made him feel? She was tempted to look inside his thoughts but held herself back.

She climbed to her feet and went to Rose, still lost in disbelief that Rose did not hate her.

"You and Seamus don't have to be alone ever again," she said. "We'll leave tomorrow night. Go home to the underground."

Rose's eyes widened. "Tomorrow night? That's too soon. And what of Julian? How will you protect us?"

"He doesn't even know we're here. But it doesn't matter. He's not a threat," Eleisha insisted. "He won't come near me. I swear."

Why did no one believe her? She had felt his terror, his conviction to flee from her and never come back. She had been inside his mind.

"Why is tomorrow too soon?" Wade asked, frowning.

"I had no idea you would come tonight," Rose answered. "I've lived here for a hundred years. I have arrangements to make before we can leave."

But Eleisha could hear a hint of fear behind her calm voice. Traveling… journeys… unfamiliar places frightened Rose.

"Of course," she said quickly, looking back at Philip.

But he nodded again.

Only Wade seemed uncertain. He'd been expecting a short trip.

She's frightened, Eleisha flashed to him. She needs time.

He looked at her. "Should we find a hotel?" he asked.

"I have room here," Rose said, climbing to her feet, her legs still trembling. "Couches and a spare bedroom I never use. Apartments were more spacious back when I bought this place."

Talk of couches and spare bedrooms seemed safe in the midst of all they had shared. But Eleisha could not release the memory of Edward's mouth on Rose's the night he turned her. Eleisha had never thought of Edward as a man, someone with passions or drives. She knew for certain he'd never felt that way toward her. To him, she had been a child, a doll to dress up. Rose was hardly either of those things. Did Edward fear feelings that might be too real? Perhaps guilt wasn't the only thing that kept him from ever seeing Rose again.

"Are you sure you want us here?" Wade asked. "You might feel invaded."

Eleisha felt a rush of affection for him. Such a statement would never occur to Philip, but Wade almost always considered the feelings of others.

Rose glanced with hesitation at Philip, and then her eyes fell upon Eleisha. "You are welcome to stay. Change is a welcome thing here."

Seamus had remained quiet through most of this. Perhaps he felt helpless to stop the flow of events. Eleisha thought on his life, too, cut off so soon, leaving him in state of endless limbo.

He was watching her. Then she realized he had not been seen by anyone but Rose since the night he died. Maybe new company would not be so unwelcome?

"How long will you need, Rose?" she asked.

Rose hesitated. "I am not sure. A few nights at least."

And now we are five, Eleisha thought.

Wade woke up to a silent apartment in the late afternoon. He was lying on a Victorian couch. Disoriented for a moment, he blinked and sat up, trying to remember where he was.

The previous night came rushing back.

For the first time, with a few moments to himself since arriving, he suddenly realized that he wanted to help Eleisha in this venture. Rose was exactly what Eleisha described her to be-frightened, lonely, and blind to her own potential. He could help her, train her, and teach her to feed without killing. He could help Eleisha create the underground and then help her find others like Rose. He could do more good in this venture, save more lives, than he could in a hundred years working as a psychologist for the Portland police.

He could do something that no one else could.

As he looked around the faded sitting room, it struck him as sad, like a flower that had once been lovely but was close to losing its petals. He got up and walked into the kitchen. This room was more cheerful with its colorful pots of herbs. There was a kettle on the stove, and he found a few dusty tea mugs, but the other cupboards and the refrigerator were empty… as if the very presence of a kitchen was a lie.

He went back out into the sitting room. The place was so quiet.

Vampires slept all day.

The door to Rose's bedroom was closed.

Philip and Eleisha had taken the guest room. He understood this, as they both liked to feel hidden away somewhere during their dormancy. He walked over and cracked their door, just to check on them.

The room was dark, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. For some reason, the sight awaiting him sent a jolt through his body.

Philip was lying on the bed, on his back, wearing only a pair of jeans. Eleisha wore sweatpants and a tank top, but she was curled up against him with her head on his shoulder, her long hair tangled across his throat. Their chests did not move. They did not breathe.

They both looked dead.

Even dead they shared a connection he could not penetrate- with either of them. They were his only companions now, and yet he often felt like the outsider.

Still, he knew them, understood them better than they realized, although he kept such revelations to himself. He knew how it felt to feed on human blood, to kill to survive.

He had experienced this from Eleisha, Philip, and now Rose. He had felt the sensation of sinking one's teeth into a human throat, watching memories, and drinking blood. But the act was starkly different for all three of the vampires he had lived through.

Philip reveled in killing.

Eleisha had found it regretful.

Rose felt open shame.

At this thought, a small portion of his resolution to become closely involved with Rose wavered.

He turned his eyes to Philip.

Yes, Rose appeared to be the lost victim that Eleisha had described, but was Philip's caution wrong? None of them really knew Rose yet, she had certainly shown the ability to shut her remorse off when she grew hungry enough, and she had avoided getting too close to mortals she cared about for fear of feeding on them.

Wade could never forget he was a lone mortal among a growing number of the undead.

He straightened, pushing doubt away.

He would not abandon this path. In spite of his agreement with Philip's caution, Eleisha's passion to find others like herself and have him teach them to feed without killing provided a stronger pull.

It gave him purpose.

Suddenly, he realized he was hungry.

He walked back to the couch and put on his shoes. Then he headed for the front door.

"Where are you going?" a hollow voice challenged.

He half turned to see Seamus' transparent form standing outside the guest room door. As accustomed as Wade had become to the reality of vampires, the sight of this Scottish ghost still left him unsettled.

"Out to find some food," he answered. "I haven't eaten since yesterday."

The suspicious expression on Seamus' face vanished. "Oh, I'd forgotten you would need to…" He trailed off.

Wade turned fully from the door, not quite sure what to say as he realized Seamus wasn't used to anyone being awake in the apartment during daylight hours. How alien this all must feel to him.

"Your aunt did the right thing," he said finally, "writing to Eleisha."

Seamus looked away from Wade and back through the guest room door. "I think so, too… now. I think it's good she came, and you as well." Then his eyes narrowed. "Except that she trusts him!"

At first, Wade wasn't sure what this meant. More on impulse than a conscious decision, Wade reached out telepathically, not certain he could read a ghost but trying to pick up any thoughts. He sensed nothing, as if Seamus wasn't there.

He took a few steps back toward the guest room and saw that Seamus was looking at Eleisha sleeping on Philip's shoulder.

"Oh, you mean Eleisha trusts…" Wade struggled for words. "Of course she trusts him. He'd throw himself in front of a bus for her."

"He's a killer."

"Eleisha has killed, too, many times. So has Rose."

"They're not like him."

Well, that was true, and Wade could offer no argument. But Seamus was going to have to accept Philip if he wanted help from Eleisha and Wade. Philip came as part of the package-and he wasn't a killer anymore.

Wade debated explaining how Eleisha and Philip fed now, but he knew Seamus was still reeling from an onslaught of radical changes in less than twenty-four hours.

"Why do you stay with them?" Seamus asked, his Scottish accent growing thicker and his voice growing sad. "You need not."

Wade wasn't certain how to answer-or even if he should answer. "Normal people don't enjoy my company," he began, "once they find out I see everything they're thinking. Even if I promised not to… no one could know for sure. I had a friend once who could feel my thoughts and keep me out… but he's gone now. I fit in with Eleisha and Philip. They're like me."

That wasn't completely true, and he was forever caught in the betwixt and between, but Eleisha and Philip accepted him. More important, they valued him.

"You should go and eat," Seamus said. "There is a bakery two blocks away on Taylor Street. I've only seen it closed when Rose is… out at night, but it looks like a decent place."

Wade smiled.

Seamus had not lost his humanity.

Eleisha woke as dusk settled.

The guest room door was cracked open, and she could hear the sound of pans rattling from somewhere out in the apartment. When she tried to sit up, she found her hair tangled around Philip's throat, and she reached to pull it free.

He grabbed her hand.

His amber eyes were open, and he was looking up at her.

"I need to go out for a while," he said quietly. "Can you stay here with Wade?"

"Why do you need to go out?"

"To buy some things."

She pulled her hand away, freed her hair, and sat up. She could think of only a few items he might wish to buy. "You don't need Paul Mitchell hair products for a three- or four-night stay, Philip. Why didn't you bring your own?"

He moved over and climbed off the bed. "I just need to go out. Will you stay with Wade? I don't want him here alone."

He reached for his shirt, and she studied the white cigars burns covering the back and top of his shoulders. Their kind healed from flesh wounds quickly, but they retained any scars from mortal life-and apparently, Philip's father had not been the nurturing type.

"You sound strange," she said. "What's wrong?"

"I don't want Wade left alone."

Was he worried Rose would hurt Wade? After reading Rose's memories last night, she thought Philip would completely change his attitude toward the situation, but he seemed just as angry and hesitant now as before. How could he not pity Rose for what she'd been through?

But as he pulled on his boots, Eleisha only said, "Of course I'll stay. You won't be long?"

His expression softened. "I won't be long."

He walked out. She climbed off the bed and followed him partway. But he didn't even look around to try to find Wade to say good-bye. He just left, closing the front door quietly.

Puzzled, Eleisha padded off toward the kitchen, where she found Wade frying eggs and talking to Seamus.

"No, seriously," Wade was saying. "As a kid, I lived on a farm in North Dakota, with cows and chickens."

"And horses?" Seamus asked.

"Sure, horses."

They both fell silent as they noticed her in the open archway between the sitting room and kitchen.

"Where's Philip?" Wade asked, spatula in midair.

"He went out. He said he needed to buy some things."

Seamus stared at her.

Then Eleisha heard the sound of a door opening, and she turned to see Rose come from her room wearing a long sage green dress and gold earrings, with her hair brushed to a shining luster.

Eleisha became poignantly aware that she was still wearing a pair of Wade's old sweatpants and the pink Hello Kitty tank top she'd slept in all day… and her hair was a wild mess.

Suddenly the whole scene felt awkward.

Vampires didn't invite overnight guests. This "morning after" moment was foreign and uncomfortable.

But as Rose walked over to join her in the archway, she did not even notice Eleisha's attire. She was looking at Wade in what appeared to be wonder.

"Eggs," she whispered. "Where did you get the pan?"

"Went shopping," Wade answered, pointing to some paper bags on the counter. "I saw you had a kettle and mugs, so I picked up a few kinds of tea and washed out the mugs. Eleisha likes a cup when she wakes up."

Rose walked in and looked inside the shopping bags. "Here, let me get the water boiling. Eleisha, come sit at the table."

And the strained moment was gone.

Eleisha walked over and sat down a few feet from where Seamus appeared to be standing. Rose bustled about, finishing Wade's eggs and making tea, and the image was so natural that Eleisha almost forgot their quartet was made up of two vampires, a telepathic mortal, and a ghost.

They just seemed like four people enjoying an evening in the kitchen.

With a stab of guilt, Eleisha was suddenly glad Philip had gone out. He would hate this. He would have ruined it.

She sat quietly as Wade dropped down into a chair beside her with his eggs and a croissant he'd pulled from a bag. He was eating with a plastic fork and talking to Seamus about horses.

Rose put a cup of tea in front of Wade and handed one to Eleisha. Then she took a sip from her own. Eleisha knew that she should say something. She pointed to a purple pot. "Is that saffron? I haven't seen that growing in many years."

Rose nodded. "I don't know why, but growing all the herbs has helped fill my nights, as William did for you."

Wade stopped talking to Seamus in midsentence and looked at Eleisha. "You told her about taking care of William?" he asked in mild surprise.

Eleisha glanced away. "Yes, in our letters."

Of course Rose had heard something of William from Edward, but Eleisha had not known that before. Secrets within secrets. Perhaps it was going to be difficult to stick to safe subjects. But Wade only yawned, as if he was tired, and took a long drink from his mug and turned back to Seamus.

"I hope you won't mind an upstairs room at the church," Eleisha said to Rose. "I almost started decorating one for you, but I didn't know what you'd like. I'm sure I would have gotten it wrong."

But this caused Rose to wince, as it probably reminded her of the impending journey to Oregon. Eleisha searched for some way to change the subject again. It felt so good to be sitting here with Rose and a cup of tea. She didn't want it to end.

Wade yawned again.

His eggs were gone, and he tried to stand up from the table and wobbled slightly.

"Are you all right?" Eleisha asked, standing to help him.

"Yeah, I'm just tired."

His eyes looked glassy.

"Let's move him to a couch," Rose said.

Eleisha helped him to a low burgundy settee. "Didn't you sleep at all today?" she asked, growing more concerned.

"Yeah, Leisha… I slept."

His white-blond head rolled back and his eyes closed.

"Wade!"

"It's all right," Rose said quietly from behind her. "He'll just sleep for a few hours."

Eleisha whirled around. "What did you do?"

"Just gave him something to make him sleep."

"You drugged his tea?"

She couldn't believe it. Philip had been right. Rose was an enemy. How was that possible? Eleisha positioned herself in front of Wade, wondering if she should try using her gift or look for a weapon. Or she could try taking hold of Rose's thoughts, as she had with Julian.

"It's all right, Eleisha," Rose said again. "I would never hurt your friend, but I need to show you something, and he cannot see it. We need to go out tonight… by ourselves."

As these words landed smoothly on Eleisha's ears, she believed them. Of course Rose was right. Rose was wise, and she would never hurt Wade. She just had to share something with Eleisha.

Philip took a taxi to Fisherman's Wharf.

Reliving Rose's memories last night had been too much for him. Through her, he'd experienced real hunting again-a true feeding. But instead of satisfying him, the sensation only made him feel like he wanted to claw out of his own skin.

When he woke up tonight, only a few seconds ahead of Eleisha, he knew he had to leave the apartment by himself. It troubled him to leave her and Wade by themselves, but nothing would have stopped him from heading for the door.

Nothing.

"Pull over here," he told the cabbie when they reached Beach Street. He paid his fare and got out.

The lights and music of Pier 39 filled his senses, and he rejoiced in the sight of the busy crowds. Walking down the pier, he passed an endless variety of shops: souvenirs, chocolates, seashells, wine, T-shirts, novelty stockings… all bursting with tourists.

Then he reached a large, two-story carousel in the center. Colorful horses moved up and down to canned music, ridden by children gripping caramel apples.

Eleisha would like this.

He pushed the unbidden thought away. He did not want to think about her.

Hearing the sound of feminine laughter, he turned his head quickly. Three young women were standing outside a souvenir shop, carrying bags and talking in low voices, occasionally laughing more loudly.

Suddenly, Philip realized coming to Pier 39 presented a problem he had not considered: people rarely came here alone.

In the past, this had never hindered him, as he would simply kill anyone he needed to. But tonight he wished to do this quietly, which was why he'd come down to the waterfront.

He studied the group of laughing women: a tall one with a blond bob haircut, a chubby one-not far out of her teens-and a slender, dark-haired one wearing a T-shirt from the North Beach Museum.

He zeroed in on the last one.

The crowds continued to pass around, hiding him in the flowing mass.

How could get her alone? He could easily approach the trio and use his gift to draw her off, but if she disappeared, the other two could provide a detailed description of him.

He did not fear police, but any trouble at all would let Eleisha know what he'd done.

So he tried something new.

The dark-haired woman was not carrying a purse-and the other two were. Perhaps she did not bother with such things?

But he reached out with his thoughts, slipping them inside her mind. In her recent memories, he saw they had eaten in a cafй farther down the pier, and she had been carrying a mesh bag. She did not seem aware of his mental invasion.

Your bag. You left it in the cafй, he suggested, moving a little closer.

"Oh, damn it," she said suddenly, looking down. "I left my bag. I'll be right back."

She trotted off, leaving her friends to wait.

He followed her.

He had no idea where she'd left the bag, but it didn't matter. As she passed a fudge shop, he came up behind her.

"Excuse me."

He let his gift begin to flow.

She froze and then turned around.

"I have heard there are sea lions nearby," he said. "Can you show me?"

Her eyes moved up to his face, and she did not speak for several seconds. Then she said, "Sea lions? Oh, yeah, I saw them earlier, that way." She pointed to the right.

"Are they far?" he asked, letting his accent grow thicker, letting more of his gift seep out.

Eyes fixated on him, she breathed in and shook her head slowly. "No, just over there."

"Show me."

She seemed to forget about her lost bag and her friends. Turning right, she led him down a passage between two buildings, through a set of doors, and out onto a long, fenced dock. Away from the carousel's music, he could hear water lapping against the shore.

As they left the crowds of the busy section of the pier, he rejoiced at the numerous shadowed nooks and crannies on the backsides of all the shops.

The young woman was leading him farther into the darkness toward the edge of the pier.

He heard sea lions barking, and he saw lights all the way from Beach Street glinting off the water ahead. Then he spotted a flight of stairs that formed a landing at the top of the first level.

"Here," he said, moving to stand under the stairs, beneath the landing. Without a word, she followed him. Several people passed by, but no one looked inside the dark hollow.

She was breathing quickly now. He pressed her up against the wall and kissed her, reveling in the warmth of her mouth and the pounding of blood just below her skin. He grew excited but fought to control himself.

It was a pity he couldn't let her scream.

He vowed that next time, he'd find someplace more private, someplace where he could take more time.

Moving one hand up, he took his mouth off hers, whispering soft words in her ear. She was gripping his waist, trying to pull him closer.

Then he covered her mouth with his hand, tilted her head back, drove his teeth into her throat, and turned off his gift.

He needed to feel her fear.

She bucked in panic and tried to scream, but he had her mouth completely covered and he was gulping in mouthfuls of her blood. Waves of her terror passed through him like a sweet memory he'd almost forgotten.

Visions of her life flowed past in his mind as he consumed her-consumed everything about her, as he should. He saw a grandmother with gray curls, a cat named Boomer, a green ten-speed bicycle, the trees of a college campus, a handsome political science professor named Dr. McFarland…

Her heart stopped.

He pulled his teeth out and just held her body against the wall, letting the life force soak in. He felt like himself again, whole and strong and satisfied.

This sector of the pier was nearly deserted, with no shops or attractions. He held her up easily with one arm, and he looked out. He could hear voices down by the sea lions, but he saw no one near. He walked over to the edge, and he quietly slipped the woman's body into the water.

She disappeared beneath dark waves.

Philip closed his eyes for a moment, and he saw Eleisha's calm face looking back at him. He remembered the feel of her soft hair tangled around him when he'd woken up tonight.

He knew that he should feel remorse for his actions, for keeping this secret from her.

But he didn't.

Julian retrieved his baggage and then walked out of the San Francisco International Airport through a set of glass doors and into the cool night air. He was carefully groomed with his hair combed back, and he was wearing slacks, an Italian belt, a white shirt from Savile Row, and a black wool coat that reached his calves. He carried a light overnight bag in one hand and a long wooden box in the other.

He took a taxi to Nob Hill, to the Fairmont, where he had already reserved the Buckingham Suite.

He needed no one to help carry his luggage, so he got a key at the front desk and went straight to his room.

Opening the door, he walked across a parquet floor into a wood-paneled parlor with a fireplace. The suite was decorated in tones of dark rust and hints of yellow. Glancing across the parlor, he noticed a glass-enclosed balcony.

Fairly impressive for America.

But he didn't care.

"Mary Jordane," he called.

The air shimmered and her spiky magenta hair materialized, followed by the rest of her. She looked around.

"Geez," she said. "You've got even more money than I thought." Then her eyes landed on the long wooden box in his hand. It stretched from his knee up past his shoulder. "What's in there?"

"You have work to do," he said coldly. "Find them."