Page 89 of Eternal Surrender

“You were homeless. You had nothing left to lose.”

“Talking with you back in the Savoy. . . it really helped.”

“You’ve seen how many bedrooms we have here,” I said. “Shame they go to waste.”

He turned to look at me. “You’re saying I can stay?”

“Someone needs to help Alex improve his chess.”

“Hate to break it to you, but this place has more spider webs than a haunted house. You need someone to manage this place.” Sebastian lifted his trouser leg and examined his calf again. “To think I might even be able to dance again.”

“That’s who you are, Sebastian.” I gave his back a pat. “And I’m excited for your future.”

Chapter Nineteen

“Father Jacob Roch is expecting you,” said the short frail nun.

Escorted by the Sister, we strolled down Salisbury Cathedral’s North Quire Aisle, and my attention was drawn to the Gothic arched ceiling with its intricate curves masterfully bestowing the illusion of movement as though nature herself had forged the design.

We arrived in a second small transept where the cruciform church crossed between the nave and the choir at right angles. The nun gestured I was to proceed alone through the door before us.

I stepped inside Trinity Chapel, admiring the slender, colorful columns rising up effortlessly and supporting an illustrious ribbed-vault. I took a moment to savor the craftsmanship imbued in the remarkable stained glass windows.

Just ahead, Jacob was talking with Marcus and Rachel.

Rachel, who’d been turned at sixteen or so, looked weary, her paleness emphasizing her vibrant titian locks. Having disappeared over fifty years ago, it was good to see her alive. Marcus was talking softly with her, evidently relieved to have her back.

Jacob came over to greet me.

“I can understand why you like it here,” I said, walking with him.

“It’s peaceful,” Jacob agreed.

“How is she?” I gestured toward Rachel.

“No better, no worse,” he said. “The nuns watch over her when I can’t.”

Rachel’s hands trembled, though she didn’t seem to notice.

Jacob sighed. “The quiet keeps her calm.”

Rachel pointed to me. “Who’s that?”

“A friend,” Marcus told her, failing to hide his sadness.

She snapped her head round toward Jacob. “Is he one of us?”

“He is,” Jacob reassured her.

“You’ve forgiven me then?” She tilted her head.

Jacob hesitated, and then said, “There’s nothing to forgive.”

“But I told you that your father Orpheus is a vampire?”

“Rachel, that’s all forgotten now,” Jacob reassured her.

She was reaching back decades. So far that the distance itself became telling. It had been a very long time ago, which only underscored the truth that her memory was fractured, unreliable, caught on events that no longer belonged to the present.