Requiem on Water [Book I]

Chapter 5

"A man's immortality can be found in his children." 
― Patricia Briggs

 

Chapter 5

"Yes sweetheart, you can go into the sunlight, but only when you gain more strength."

Alice had been quite inquisitive during the time they spent in Anastasia's two bedroom apartment. There were many things that Alice wanted to know. At first she didn't understand the reason for the Hunters' hate towards them, but as she learned that they kill in order to live, it made sense. Alice's most pressing question, however, couldn't be answered; Arthur didn't know anything about the fog that Alice had seen. So instead, he answered her less pressing questions, all of which were about being a normal Immortale.

"Will I die if I go into the sunlight?"

"Yes, you will burn to ashes," he said, not sugar coating the truth.

She processed the information in her mind. Alice couldn't imagine what it must feel like to burn to ashes. Her body temperature was still cold, and she still liked it that way. She doubted if she would enjoy the feeling of warmth, not to mention burning. She shivered at the thought and pushed it from her mind.

"When will I be strong enough to go into the sunlight?" she asked, the topic intriguing her ignorant mind.

"You will know."

She furrowed her brow as she thought it through. How would she know? She wanted to ask Arthur more questions, because she didn't like being uninformed, but each time she asked Arthur another question, Anastasia would let out a deep sigh and roll her eyes. Alice didn't want to annoy Anastasia; she had been kind enough to open her home to them, even if she knew it was more for Arthur's benefit than hers. She focused her attention on Anastasia instead, taking in the very presence of her. Alice couldn't get over her beauty; Anastasia had to be more beautiful than any other woman.

"Do you have the birthmark?" asked Anastasia, her mind running through possibilities of what Alice could be. She had never heard of a Hunter being turned before; perhaps that could be why Alice was acting so strange, why her blood tasted so different.

Alice shrugged.

"I don't know."

Arthur rolled his eyes as Anastasia stood in front of Alice, waiting for her to lift her blouse for them to see whether she had the birthmark. Alice didn't mind showing them though. She stood up from Arthur's lap and lifted her shirt until below her breast. That had been where the Hunter's – her father's – birthmark had been. But she had somehow known that she wasn't a Hunter. She didn't feel the uncanny need to kill.

"She is not a Hunter, that's for sure," said Anastasia, evidently disappointed that her speculation had been wrong.

"I don't understand how I could have missed that," said Arthur.

"You've been too blinded by love."

He was growing tired of Anastasia's attitude. He could sense that Alice wasn't at her comfort around his creator, but the truth was, neither was he. He couldn't believe how she had entangled herself into his life again; he couldn't believe he had allowed her to do it either. But he couldn't risk Alice's safety; he couldn't run with her when he knew the Hunters were out searching for her. There was strength in numbers and Arthur knew full well how determined the Hunters became when they were searching for a particular Immortale.

He and Anastasia had found themselves in the middle of an attack several years ago. It had been Anastasia's slipup too. She had come to be careless in her attacks, and it had attracted the attention of the Hunters quickly. They had captured her in a moment when she was not on guard, and because he had still been young and clueless, he had needed his creator. He couldn't have stood by and watched as they killed the only person who he had known. He had been opposed to killing them at first, but they had tortured Anastasia with fire in many creative ways. He still remembered her being chained up like an animal, and each time the Hunters interrogated her, and she hadn't cooperated, they had set her alight and only extinguished the flames when she was on the brink on death.