A Glimmer of Hope (The Avalon Chronicles #1)(35)

“And for me?” Dara asked.

“I need to know where Layla’s friends live and work. If we can’t get to, or find, Layla, I want to make sure she knows what happens to those who continue to cross us. Get me a name and an address, and we can go twist a few screws.”

Dara smiled. “It’ll be my pleasure. Maybe one of the prisoners can tell you where Layla lives? They might try to go there.”

“It’s worth looking into, but we’ll do it once we’re secure.”

He waited until he was alone in the room before allowing himself a smile. A few things had surprised Elias about Layla’s escape. Firstly, that she’d either ignored or disbelieved the fact that he had some of her colleagues still alive. He’d expected her to try to rescue them. It would have been futile, and she would have been easily captured, but even so, it was something he hadn’t expected.

And then there was the spirit scroll. That really was a turn up for the books—a piece of good luck—for Layla at least. And more than a little interesting from Elias’s point of view. Those he hunted were rarely interesting, barely more than a mediocre distraction from his day-to-day duties. But Layla was proving to be something he relished: a challenge. Everything back at the compound in America was so regulated, so . . . dull.

The reason he’d allowed people like Liz Barnsley to escape the compound was so that he could hunt them. It was something new, something . . . interesting. And that was what Layla had become. Yes, he’d have to break her. That went without saying. The line between fun and irritation was a fine one, but until he reached that point, he was going to enjoy himself.

That’s not to say that Elias would show anything other than complete irritation and anger at what had happened, but inside he was almost . . . yes, glad for her escape. And glad for her having taken a scroll. It would be amusing to see her try to fight the demon, to see if she was strong enough to fight it. And maybe she too could join Nergal’s army. Stranger things had happened. And if she turned them down, well, he could always let her escape from the compound. And then the hunt would be on again.





13

In Layla’s dream she found herself on a bench in a park. The sun shone high above her, but it didn’t feel overly warm. Children ran around close to a large pond that was nearby, splashing and laughing as they went. There were trees behind her, casting a shade that didn’t quite reach her, and for a few seconds nothing seemed out of the ordinary. And then she realized what everyone was wearing.

Every man, woman, and child there was in Victorian clothing. Most of the men wore smart suits in blacks and grays, with lighter colored waistcoats. Many of them also carried walking canes and wore top hats. There were several men who wore scruffier clothes, but they didn’t appear to be the norm.

The women wore bright dresses in greens, reds, or purples, many with matching hats. Layla saw no hint of flesh below the neckline; even their hands were covered by gloves. Several women had congregated over to one side and were in deep conversation. One of them, a lady in a deep green dress, used a white umbrella to keep the sun at bay.

“This is my time again,” Rosa said as she sat beside Layla. She wore trousers, boots, and a red blouse. A long, dark gray coat completed the outfit, and her hair was pulled up into a bun. “This is 1876, Oxford, or just outside of it. I was here to do a job, not one I relished, but one that needed doing.”

“Why am I here?” Layla demanded, barely holding in her temper.

“You’re angry about last night, about my knocking you out. Understandable. I guess I need to explain what you now are.”

“I’m human.”

Rosa shook her head. “Not anymore. You bled on a spirit scroll and accepted the spirits inside—that makes you an umbra.”

Layla thought for a moment. “An apparition? I’m a ghost?”

“No, not even slightly. Back when the spirit scrolls were made, an umbra meant a vessel of a spirit. I guess over time that’s changed. A lot of things have changed in the time since I was last alive. I died in 1915.”

“Over a century then.”

“An exceptionally long time.”

“Why don’t you sound old-timey?”

Rosa raised a questioning eyebrow.

“I stand by my use of the word,” Layla said defensively. “I could have said ancient. Would that have been better?”

Rosa’s eyes narrowed. “The spirits take on the speech pattern of the era the umbra is from. We don’t even know we’re doing it. One of many weird things about your new powers.”

“What are the other things?”

“You want the guided tour? That’s fine with me, but then you have a problem.”

“What problem is that?”

“You will need to sit through what happened here, in this corner of my past, and then you’ll need to go meet the other two spirits and see their lives too. You’ll be learning a lot about us over the next few days. And after that you need to see the demon. That’s not negotiable.” She held out her hand. “Deal?”

Layla shook it. “Let’s see what craziness is now in my head. So, exactly what is an umbra?”

“It’s a human who has accepted the spirits from a spirit scroll. They’re always human, and no one is born into this power. It’s something we’re given, or in your case, something you fall into. As an umbra you’re not immortal, bulletproof, or able to heal yourself indefinitely. Silver will kill you—don’t wear it, and don’t get cut by it, although it’s not as toxic to you as it is to some species. While you’re not immortal, you won’t age normally either. Some umbras are a few hundred years old. They’re rarely much older, though. You won’t age much, but you will still age.