The Lost Girl of Avignon

"I might have to..."

"Annemarie! No!"

"I'll phone you. If I need to go I'll phone you. Go. Go now, Sofia!" I said, using the alternate of her name so she'd listen.

She swallowed.

"Don't you dare let anything happen to you," she said. She pushed in against me, kissed me once, and turned to walk swiftly away.

She didn't look back, and the wise girl knew not to run.

My mad heartbeat slowed; I took a shaky breath.

I pulled out my phone and, hesitantly, dialled.

"Miss Devereux," said the cool voice on the far side after two brief trills.

"I've found... that is... I think I've..."

"Slow down. One thing at a time. Who is it."

"Professor Vasjek, or at least I think so."

"Why do you suspect him?"

"Because he says he's forty but looks less than thirty. Because he hates the sun. And because he cannot skip a stair or tread on a crack between flagstones."

"Indeed? And where is the lovely professor?"

"On campus. But it looked like he was planning to go elsewhere. There was a... purpose to his movement. He's heading for the gates."

"Can you follow him without being seen?"

"I... think so, yes."

"Then follow him. But don't be seen. Do I make myself clear, Annemarie?"

"I understand."

"Then I wish you bonne chance."

The phone clicked; I let out a breath.

Then I forced myself to slow down, and think.

It was still early, not quite noon.

He would be bloated but restless, just starting to come out of the satiation of a full meal, his instincts telling him that he needed to start thinking about food even though he'd be glutted for at least a day.

He wouldn't kill, not yet. Perhaps he'd thought ahead and had stored some... snacks.

But he'd start thinking about his next victim.

He'd start with finding a mark.

I squared my shoulders and set off on his trail.

I walked with purpose across the square towards the long arcade that led to the great arched gate that separated Campus and Civitas. Once under the eaves I moved across to the left, hugging the border of the long, slate-roofed walkway as I flitted forward. I reached the small square in front of the gate just as my quarry stepped through the arching vault that seemed so out of place in the low, irregular wall that formed the rest of the boundary.

I let Professor Vasjek gain some ground before I started forward again; I paused in a deeper patch of shade beneath the archway and watched him.

He paused for a moment in his own patch of shade; I ducked back out of sight as he looked around.

He seemed... on edge.

Perhaps he could feel himself being hunted.

I resolved to give him more space; I let him choose a road and start down it before I moved, crabbing across the small shop-lined heptagon, finding another shop-front that I could peer into while keeping well-abreast of where his hat went.

For it was his hat I was watching now. He was tall, and it was easy to see, even from over a hundred yards away it stood out against the bare heads of those others who were walking the streets, going for coffee or running their errands.

I moved two shops further down, then two more. I stared at a display of sandwiches and the oblivious man who was changing them.

The Professor had stopped again. He still seemed on edge.

My phone bleeped. I fumbled for it, raised it.

A message from Sophie.

- Nana says she knows. Where are you? -

- Canterbury Road, heading South -

- You said you'd phone! -

- Sorry. Things happened faster -

The hat had disappeared.

"Fuck!"

I darted some yards forward, then... slowed.

Because... because I could... feel him.

I paused a moment in wonder.

No.

It was even weirder than that.

I knew vaguely which direction he was, that was it. And... it almost felt like he was... shrinking. Fading.

Moving away, came the flash of insight.

I knew the roads, I'd spent enough time staring obsessively at a map of Ulcaster so I'd know when there'd be shade on a route to any conceivable place to which I might want to go...

I knew, for example, that Canterbury road crossed Westwall road three hundred yards ahead. He was... south-west of me, moving away. He'd cross Westwall at some point; if I was quick I'd see him do it.

I advanced with purpose, feeling my sense of him shift...

It was working. Whatever this mad new sense was, it was working.

And I was stationed in a patch of shade on Westwall, looking west, when Professor Vasjek crossed swiftly from north to south and stood, craning his head as if searching for someone...

He's searching for you. He can feel you too. came the warning from my inner darkness.

I froze, then drew back further.

He knew what I looked like. That was certain.

I needed camouflage.

- Westwall x Cambridge Road - I texted Sophie. Then, on a hunch, I sent it to DI Cole as well.

I dashed into a small tourist trap and bought a polyester shawl in the University's green and grey that I quickly cast over my telltale crimson and white silk one as an additional disguise.

He was moving again; still heading south. South of me was the tall Gothic steeple of St James and All Angels, west would eventually be the old Roman wall and West gate, south-west...

South-west was the alleys and lanes of the old Market.

Oldmarket street was maybe two hundred yards south, just past the massive buttresses of St James' west wall.

Beyond Oldmarket was an area called the Shambles where many students lived.

A killing field, I thought, chilled.

I dashed across the road, narrowly avoiding a cyclist, and scuttled south as quick as I could.

- Oldmarket x Canterbury - I texted Sophie and DI Cole.

- The Shambles? - came DI Cole's response.

I didn't respond; I saw his hat moving away from me west down Oldmarket street.

I crossed to the west side of Canterbury road and slowly walked along Oldmarket.

He was on the south side, I the north. He was maybe eighty yards in front of me; there were more people around so I had more cover.

He paused, peering into a window.

Trying to catch his huntress in the reflection - but I was safely out of his angle of view.

He turned slowly, staring; I looked quickly down and away, picked up my phone and (with a shudder) turned my back on him as I pretended to just be a girl and her conversation.

I sent Sophie my location.

- 5 mins stop moving ffs - came her response.

But he was moving again, quicker this time.

I spun, caught a glimpse of him as he turned south once more.

The old market.

I looked both ways before dashing south, ducking into Star-and-Garter alley and following it quickly to where I knew that it would cross the Rope Walk.

And there it was; the old Market - a towering, three-story building built near the end of the Hanoverian age but now derelict, given over to rats and birds. Hoardings surrounded it, papered over with promises of new flats that were themselves obscured over with last year's Christmas adverts...

I stared up at the empty windows and felt the shadows of dark omens rearing up around me.

I slunk closer.

A door in the barriers had been forced; ripped from its hinges and cast aside like paper.

A black, yawning rectangle beckoned.

One way in meant one way out. I'd be like a rabbit in a snare.

I backed in against a wall, pulled out my phone from my pocket, and dialled Angela Cole.

She picked up on the second ring.

"Yes, Miss Devereux?" she said.

"I... think he's in the old Market. Inside it."

"Are you sure?"

I closed my eyes, took a breath and slowly exhaled.

"Perhaps sure," I answered. "I think I'm where he went in, and he... does not feel any further from me."

"Doesn't feel... ah. Indeed? Remind me to have a proper talk with you after this is over. Where are you now?"

"On the Rope Walk, near the north-east corner of..."

"Don't move, and stay out of sight."

"But he'll..."

"Mademoiselle. Please. I beg you, leave this one to the professionals."

The phone clicked.

I swore, and glanced up hurriedly at the Market.

- Where are you?! - came Sophie's frantic ping.

I craned my neck.

- Rope Walk x Star and Garter... doorway to the Old Stoat -

Footsteps pounded down the alley... and she collided with me, wrapping her arms around me, chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath.

"You... you impossible, monstrous idiot," she gasped. "Running off like that, oh my God, I haven't run so far in... in years..."

And then she released me and leaned forward on her knees, panting.

"Where... is he..."

"Inside. I think. I... can't tell, it's weird, I know he's that way and roughly how far..."

"How on earth can you know that?"

"I... don't know. I... suddenly began to be able to... to feel where he was. When I couldn't see him any more."

"My God," she whispered. "You're a finder."

"A what, please?"

"A finder... a seeker. Someone who can find things. Nana always used to tell me about this boy from her village; he could find lost things. A woman from the next valley could find water. Finders have... different skills. Some can find animals. Some can find metal. I guess you can find Bulgarian Professors..."

"Or vampires," I whispered. I rubbed my arms, chilled.

Then I paused.

"He's moving," I breathed.

"Where?"

"Away from us."

"The market backs onto the Shambles but..."

"It is a labyrinth on the far side. All those narrow alleys..."

We stared at the doorway.

And almost without thinking I pushed off from the wall and made for it.

"Annemarie... Annemarie... Annemarie, mother of God, what are you doing..."

A vision of Sarah, smiling over her wineglass at something I'd said.

"Finding a killer," I answered.

"Annemarie, oh my God, no, don't go in there!"

She grappled me, tugging at my arm. I turned, and pulled her to me, and kissed her soundly in love and farewell.

She made a sound of protest and struggled harder; I released her, and myself, and pushed her away to safety.

"Angela Cole is coming, she will be here soon."

"What do you mean," she demanded, panting. "Why are you telling me that?"

"Don't follow me, Sophie. Whatever happens, don't follow me in there. Adieu, sweetheart."

"Annemarie, Annemarie, you come back here right now! Annemarie!", she screamed after me, voice going taut with stress and fear.

The gaping maw of the Market loomed over me.

"À la revoyure," I whispered to her, over my shoulder.

"Be brave, Annemarie," I whispered to myself, shortly thereafter.

"Annemarie, please!" came her beseeching wail.

I stepped into darkness, following nothing more tangible but my sense of where my Nemesis waited for me.

☽●☾

It was dim, but not pitch-black. A mercy, I took some small comfort in it.

Beneath the soles of my sneakers were the worn and rounded edges of old slate tiles.

Mounds of debris, rain-rotted stalls, stacks of ancient crates...

It was a perfect place for someone to ambush me.

I swallowed down my terror, and clenched my fists.

I was doing this for Sarah. And for Sophie. And for every other woman this monster might otherwise take...

A bird exploded from a beam overhead; I cowered, shielding myself with an arm.

A pigeon, fluttering frantically as it hunted open windows somewhere high above.

I shifted my foot...

"Where are you?" said a male voice, foreign but still impossibly urbane.

I froze, heart in my throat.

"I can feel you... somewhere. It's... like a stick in my shoe, or a snag in my favourite jacket. It is like nails on a blackboard. Where are you, you vexing little starling?"

Faint footsteps, crossing from right to left somewhere in the shadows ahead of me.

"Shall we play a game, little starling? You escape, you live, for a little while. But then I find you and I pull your wings off, one little feather at a time."

A shadow shifted, I held my breath, trying to be small.

He was so close. I was trapped.

Imbécile. I should have stayed outside...

A step.

Another step.

"I can smell you. Lavender, soap, and the touch of another woman's lips. So sweet. I will find you, you know. Come here, pretty little starling. Save us both time, and spare me the... vexation..."

A shape traversed a small, dim patch of light.

My blood ran cold.

Long, bestial arms ended in bone-white claws, carried by the legs and trunk of something that was not human.

A flash of memory, the Doctor writhing in flames, his fingers elongating as he pawed helplessly at the stake in his heart...

I closed my eyes.

"Sophie," I mouthed.

I listened to him closing step by agonizing step.

I waited, poised and balanced.

I had one chance.

The creature stepped around a pencil-thin beam of light.

I leapt, silently, driving off the floor with every bit of my strength.

I struck him hard, rage carrying my fingers through eye-socket and cheekbone, tearing...

He roared in surprise and agony.

I landed, stumbled, gathered myself to sprint for the exit...

A blow struck me down, knocking the air from me, sending me careening into a pile of broken boards and decayed wood.

I lay, retching, pain burning in my ribs.

"You little bitch," he said, softly. "I am going to tear you in half for that."

Bright colours marred my vision; I peered up at his face.

He raised a claw, balled it, and drove it into my chest.

I felt my ribs crack; I screamed in pain.

Then I screamed again as he knotted his fist in my hair and pulled me up from the floor, letting me dangle in front of him.

I scrabbled at his hands, feet skittering.

"You? You sought to hunt me?"

He sounded confused.

"Is this... a joke?"

He raised me and dashed me to the floor, then pinned me down by my throat as he crouched over me.

I tried to break his hold; he laughed softly.

"You are weak," he gloated. "Feeble. Bloodless. Pathetic. I should stake you to a wall and let the sun slowly claim you. But I think that you should bleed instead. You killed my master, little bird. You killed my friend. You ruined everything. Do you remember what you did, you stupid, ignorant little child? Do you remember the stake you drove through his heart? Do you remember the flames? You betrayed him. And now, little bird, I finally get to make you pay."

Pain lanced my throat; I felt hot liquid splashing me; my vision dimmed.

He'd sliced my throat...

No.

He'd sliced my jugular vein and was holding it open, preventing it from knitting.

I struggled feebly.

He stared down at me.

"You could have lived forever," he said. He sounded almost... sad. "He could have lived forever. He would have taught you, as he taught me. He would have shown you the world, in time. And you slaughtered him while he was weak and defenceless. It has taken me a hundred and fifty-seven years to find you. And now, as I watch you die, I can quite honestly say that it was worth every second of the wait."

His eyes were deep black pools of hate.

I kicked him once with my last remaining strength, and again, and then there was nothing left.

"Die," he suggested. "Die as he did, helpless and..."

"Get back, devil."

Sophie's voice rang out like a bell.

"Get back! By Father sun and Mother moon and Blood and Salt and Bone I banish you. Get back! You shall not touch her again!"

Light flared bright as noon.

He screamed and dropped me into a pool of my blood.

He staggered backwards, flailing and yammering, trying to shield his eyes. He fell over a bench and skittered away into the shadows.

Footsteps dashed to my side, and my Sophie stood above me, radiant and glorious, glowing like one of Rembrandt's angels...

She raised her hand high and clenched it; glass cracked. A filigree mesh of light flashed into being around us; the glory seared my dimming eyes.

I heard her moan.

"Oh... oh no, Annemarie, oh God, what have you done... what has he done to you..."

She dropped to her knees beside me, fumbling at me.

"Don't... wanna die..." I managed, horribly weak, horribly cold, the walls fading and closing in around me.

"You won't," she panted, "you won't, I won't let you, I will save you."

Tears in her voice, tears on my skin, a rough pressure to my neck and then...

Rushing, roaring, pounding in my veins as strength and warmth and... and light... streamed into me.

My vision cleared; I stared up at her.

I suddenly knew what she'd done.

I could feel it.

She'd cut herself; she'd gouged a ragged gash in her hand and pushed the awful wound against my slashed jugular vein... and she was somehow willing her life-force into me, forcing my body to feed off her so that it would heal...

Backyard Haemotherapy.

But... my blood would be on her and soon enough in her...

She'd be infected!

And... and now she'd be like me - cursed to forever walk this long, dreary twilight while all she loved fell like sand through her fingers.

No.

Please no.

Not her too, I begged the cold and heartless Everything as I struggled to push her away.

But she was mighty as Pallas Athena, burning bright as Sol Invictus, and my feeble efforts were in vain.

"Sophie, no..." I begged, lips numb, voice barely there.

She kissed me, then nestled in against me.

"Do not be afraid," she whispered.

The strange, glowing cage around us flickered and faded away, plunging us down into darkness.

She was killing herself!

"No, no no no..." I moaned, struggling, desperate to stop her.

"Nearly... done...love" she breathed, the final word following her down into unconsciousness.

A roar of indescribable rage, and the Professor was on me again.

He dragged me away from her; I tried desperately to cling on to her hand, but my grip failed.

"No," I begged, "No, let me go, I must go to her, please, please!"

"Lost your precious Dadophoros, did you?" he snarled. "Oh no. How sad, little bird. Now you will die. And then I'll eat her heart."

I screamed and struggled, raked at him with all my strength, tearing at face and hair and cold, undead flesh.

He bellowed in fury, swung me up high, and dashed me to the stones; I felt something snap in me and screamed again in despair.

Pain lanced through me as he drove his claws into my shoulder. I stared up at his warped face as he draw back his arm for what would likely be his killing blow, and I drew breath to curse him with what little power I had left...

A whirr, a meaty thunk, and he fell back, screaming and clawing at a length of metal shaft crowned with feathers that had blossomed in his shoulder.

A second whirr, a second thunk, and he fell to his knees, one leg rendered useless by another brightly-coloured steel and feather bloom.

"Cowards!" he bellowed. "Spineless goat-herds! You are cattle! You are meat! I will..."

A third whirr, a third thud, and something sprouted in his belly. He doubled over, silenced bar a strangled keening.

I heard a slow click-click-click of cobbled heels on old stone.

I clawed helplessly at the ground as I desperately sought some way to hide.

"Miss Devereux," said a voice that I hadn't expected to ever hear again.

I went limp with a muffled sob, then squinted upwards from the grimy floor, my one working eye finding Angela Cole standing above me, clad in a battered and moth-eaten set of ballistic armour and hefting a matte-black crossbow.

She cocked her head to one side and considered me.

"So sorry we're late," she said. "But you very rudely neglected to let us know what time the guest of honour would be arriving."

From behind me, something twanged and a feathered bolt flashed over me, striking the creature between the eyes and knocking him prone. He made a horrible noise - a drawn out, gurgling scream - and clawed spasmodically at his strange new appendage.