Dancing with the Flames by Anna Edwards

Author:Anna Edwards [Edwards, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: English Rose Author Services
Published: 2021-03-01T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Howie

I roll over to stare at the beautiful woman lying in bed next to me. It still seems like a dream we were together last night. I don’t want to wake up yet. I want to stay here forever. This is a better reality than the one my future holds.

I pull Mishka into my arms, and she purrs softly in her slumber, her cat side coming out. I shut my eyes and drift back off to sleep at the beautiful sound, wishing it could last forever.

My younger self lies unconscious on the hard ground before me. He’s not moved at all in the few minutes I’ve been watching him, but I know by the clothes he’s wearing he’s come here straight from the witches. It’s the same day. He’s covered in their blood still. It only stains the leather and woolen cloth he wears, though, not his teeth. He didn’t bite them, and I know in my heart I’ve never fed on a human, only ever animals. It’s what the witch saw in me, the human part still living within me. It stopped me from completely surrendering to the monster I was created to be. That was never meant to be my destiny.

I take a moment to look around to workout where I am, and it dawns on me instantly when I see the outline of the Tower of London at night. I’m in the city I called home for many years. So this is how I came to live in London when I was originally changed in India.

A movement to my left pushes me back into the shadows, and a young girl, no more than six years old, runs out and leans down over the still body of my younger self. I worry about her being close, but I don’t need to because an older woman approaches a little way behind. I can't see the woman’s face as she’s wearing a hooded cloak. Her age is difficult to tell from the way she moves, but she walks confidently and not like someone who’s aged.

“Come away, Maya,” the woman orders, and the little girl steps back. I can just make out, in the dull light of night, a pout of annoyance on her face.

“I’m sorry, Mama. I only wanted to see if he was in his monster form.”

‘Mama’, gives me some idea of the woman’s age. This is the sixteen hundreds, and women are married off early. It’s likely, having a child of this age, she’s only young herself.

“He won’t be. The witches didn’t send him to us that way, but we need to be careful if he wakes and gets startled. He could change and attack on instincts alone.”

“He won’t,” the little girl looks down at my younger self, “he’s a good one. The witches said so.”

“You can’t always rely on the whispers of witches, Maya. Sometimes they get things wrong.”

“Never.” The little girl folds her arms across her chest and stamps her foot on the ground. “Witches know everything.

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