“This will just serve as another gift from me to mankind. Lucius can never again be allowed to rise, and if she has returned to warn us, then we must allow her to.”
David slipped out from beneath her, allowing her body to settle back into the starched pillows. He took his place next to where Libraean stood. “I will not stop you,” he gave in quietly.
Libraean did not lunge, but slipped down beside her on the bed, lifting her up and cradling her in his arms. He kissed her softly on her forehead, and whispered, “Forgive me”, provoking the old memory of David’s first turn to nip painfully at his mind. He focused on Libraean, watching as he lifted her limp wrist to his mouth and bit her so gently that she barely stirred.
David could not tear his eyes from the scene before him, for he had never witnessed an immortal drink with such careful reserve. Libraean did not succumb to the bestial thrall that human blood invoked and stopped himself easily, pulling up the sleeve of his right arm and allowing the vein he subsequently severed to linger right above her lips. He let it drain for a moment before setting her back down in the bed. He wrapped a nearby handkerchief around his wound to stop the bleeding, then stood up to cover her back up in blankets.
They stood, motionless, in wait. The crows around them had quieted, emitting nothing more than a gentle rolling purr. After several minutes had passed, Libraean sighed. “We are too late.”
David rested his hand on his back. “Thank you for trying.”
Suddenly they were interrupted by a loud clattering.
They looked up to see Old Man Jacob in the doorway, his expression incredulous, shards of broken glass from the water carafe he was holding now glittering around his feet. David felt Libraean stiffen under his hand. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his face completely white.
“Please forgive me,” Jacob stammered as he walked towards them, with the careful trepidation one has when approaching a wild dog. The glass crunched under his shoes. “I had to watch over you, to make sure you were alright. I—I have left the flock.”
“It does not matter,” Libraean retorted, an unusual ferocity in his voice. “Your actions are unforgivable.”
David was perplexed, looking back and forth between his manservant and his friend. He was well aware that they had never met, but he hadn’t anticipated this sort of reaction. “I don’t understand.”
Libraean turned towards him, his pained expression offering a glimpse of the man he once was. “David, this is Gabriel, the angel who deceived me long ago. Apparently, he is now a human.”
David was speechless.
Jacob stopped his approach a few feet from them, wringing his gnarled hands with apprehension. “Please forgive me, sir,” he addressed David. “I could not leave him behind. I gave it all away so I wouldn’t have to. I didn't intend on revealing myself to him or you, I simply wanted to watch over you, to protect you from harm. It was the very least I could do, after my…” He trailed off, overwhelmed with emotion.
David put up his hand to stop him. “You do not have to apologize to me, Jacob. You have been unquestionably loyal and devoted to me for years. And, if anyone understands the complexities of love, it is me.”
Libraean scoffed. “You don’t lie to the ones you love,” he muttered.
“Sometimes you do,” a soft voice came from the bed.
David spun around to see her, sitting up calmly, her black hair flowing down around her. He flew to her side, pulling her into his arms. She no longer reeked of death, the transformation completed quietly under their notice. He pulled her away to stare into eyes that had been restored to a vivid shade of blue. “Is it you?” he whispered, hopefully.
“I cannot seem to recall, but I’ve just been told the most beautiful story that is helping me remember,” she smiled.
He kissed her, assaulted with the aroma of bonfire smoke and crisp fallen leaves. His heart felt as if it would burst from joy, as he pressed his cheek to hers. “I will always help you remember.”
They were interrupted once more, this time from a pounding that echoed throughout the manor, that came from the front door. A few of the crows loudly expressed their irritation.
Jacob moved to resume his role of caretaker when David rose to stop him. “Amend your situation with Libraean. No matter his protestations, he has missed you as well.”
He turned back towards his eternal companion, who was sitting patiently on the bed amongst her crows. “I will return. Please do not go anywhere,” he said, only half in jest.
“I won’t,” she promised.
He descended the staircase, wondering who the late-night visitor might be. It seemed irrelevant, his thoughts being pulled towards the woman sitting in his guest room. A sharp crack of thunder let him know the storm had resumed as he reached the tall, stained oak doors, hoisting them open with unintended gusto.
Standing in the doorway, pummeled by the sudden downpour of rain was none other than Danulf.
The third shock of the evening finally drained any bit of color from David’s face, his jaw slack as he watched his dead friend step through the doorway and remove his elegant top hat to reveal a recently trimmed crop of silver hair. He was dressed the part of a perfect gentlemen, save for aged ink that peeked around his cuffed sleeves. A new scar had settled down his cheek, but it didn’t take David long to realize that he was still very much a blood drinker.
“Hello, Dragon Slayer,” Danulf greeted him, rain trickling off the ends of his coat. “Sorry to barge in on you like this, but you were extremely difficult to find. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you’re going to have to come with me.
“Our old friend, Lucius, has returned.”
THANK YOU FOR READING
Thank you for reading The Ancient Ones by Cassandra L. Thompson. We hope you enjoyed this story, and would consider leaving an honest review at the links provided below. This book was published by Quill & Crow Publishing House, a small press who continues to run on the support of readers like you. Thank you for your part in helping indie publishers thrive.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Gothic horror writer and occasional dark goddess, Cassandra L. Thompson has been creating stories since she got her grubby little hands around a pen. When she is not busy managing a house full of feral children (human and canine), you can find her wandering around cemeteries, taking pictures of abandoned things, or in the library doing research on her latest obsession. She has a B.A. in History and a MLIS, but she ignores her degrees to focus on finishing The Ancient Ones Trilogy and running Quill & Crow Publishing House, both of which require copious amounts of coffee and Crows.
