PHILADELPHIA (1783)
"What could he be doing?" I asked. My old memories told me I should be pacing, but I stood stock still.
"I do not know," Mary replied, and her eyes held nothing. "Family has always been the most important thing to him. I cannot imagine that he would leave us. He was upset, but he felt he had an answer. Perhaps we should follow and see what that answer is." She looked concerned, but nothing more.
"It's a plan, I suppose. I have nothing better, though I don't feel the same allegiance to him that you do."
Her look became harsh. "It was because of you that he left," she warned. "Though you may not feel the attachment, he does. Whatever he is doing now, I would expect that it is about you. What could he do that would effect you?"
I thought for a moment, and then horror struck me, horror beyond measure. I said nothing, but launched myself after his scent. I was vaguely aware that Mary followed.
We tracked his path north and east, out of the land called Kentucky, crossing the Appalachians in northwestern Virginia. I pictured the maps of the land I had seen, and became surer of our destination with every moment, more desperate, and more horrified. We found a body, but it was not his usual manner of victim. It was like one of Mary's kills, quick and efficient. He was making sure to stay ahead of us.
Mary did not need to kill, and I ignored my growing thirst, my desperation greater with every mile, and then with every step. I sought to dispel it from my mind, but it was more impossible with each leap. I was only aware that we were closer, ever closer. So obsessed had I become with Philadelphia that as we approached, I was unaware that I was no longer following Mary. I only realized that she was not in front of me when I lost William's roses and perfume scent.
I turned back and found it, and in a matter of seconds, I had caught up to Mary, who was waiting for me. "I don't understand!" I exclaimed when I reached her. "We are nearly there! Why would he turn east now?"
We had not spoken for nearly ten hours, and she had not expected the intensity of my voice. "I have guessed now what you guessed before, though I cannot know his reasons for returning to your home. Why he turns now is just another mystery."
"I can only guess that he means to kill Susan or my family, to dispense with my thoughts of my old life, embrace the new. I told him little of my old life, but he knows my name, he could find any of them if he wished." I longed to race to Philadelphia, yet longed to follow the trail. Should we split up?
"We follow the trail," Mary responded, answering the unspoken question. "You are too new to enter Philadelphia without feeding first. The smell would be too much. We will see where he went."
I nodded in response and immediately returned to the trail. We soon found ourselves outside a small village, Chester. William's trail ran straight through the village, and I held my breath as we entered, avoiding any distraction. We streaked through as quickly as possible, the sun low in the sky, nearing night, until we found ourselves standing on the bank of the Delaware. I quickly pulled my tricolor as low over my head as possible and ducked my chin, my hands in the pockets of my coat. Mary had already tied her bonnet around her face and tucked her hands in the folds of her skirt. She kept her face down as well, and spoke so that only I could hear. We were surrounded by humans, and I was very aware of the breath I held.
"He has entered the river, so that we cannot find his scent. You must not speak, you must not breathe. Leave the village immediately and return to where his trail turned. I will search for his scent, but you must hunt until you can hunt no more, for if I do not find the scent here or across the river, we will enter the city, and you must be prepared for the scent. I will meet you there when night falls." She risked a look at my face, and I saw the glint of gold on her skin.
I forced myself to nod and turn, and then I was moving again, too quickly for human eyes, back through the town until the human scent no longer surrounded me. And then I was in the open. I had agreed to Mary's plan. I needed to hunt.
I filled myself quickly, for the need was no longer as great, before I decided Mary's plan required refinement. I had found a small farm, an old couple, and I killed them quickly and easily, and then burned the place to the ground. I turned back to the village, and was there in a moment. I needed to be around the scent, to have it surround me in a way I never had before. I needed to be prepared.
I entered a small tavern and felt the warmth all around me, the warmth of the fire in the hearth completely unnecessary, with the warmth of the humans around me nearly burning. I could not open my mouth, for I did not know how I would react. I sat at the bar, preparing myself, tricolor pulled low despite the rudeness of a hat indoors. I shook my head at the barmaid when she offered me ale and willed myself to open my mouth, but I could not find the strength. I was rather impressed I hadn't massacred the bar, in honesty.
I moved my eyes quickly around the tavern, examining the dozen faces around me. I placed each face in my mind, and began imagining all of their stories, who they were, their families, whether they were patriots. Humanizing them seemed slightly easier. I willed myself again.
I opened my mouth.
The burning tore through me. It took everything I could muster not to leap at the nearest patron, or across the bar at the barmaid. My grip on the brass bar was too great, and it folded inward, though it did not collapse. I sucked the air in again, picturing the massacre, and pictured doing the same to Susan, and it was…easier. I focused everything on Susan, every part of my enormous brain that I could, and I sucked another breath through my mouth. The burn was duller. I could not risk the scent, but I could breathe through my mouth. I realized I'd been motionless, so I shifted slightly in my seat, and I was aware of her next to me.
"What are you doing?" Mary whispered. "Why are you here?"
"I needed to know if I could bear the scent," I whispered back, reluctant to release the air I might need to speak again.
"And?" she asked, looking at my face.
I sucked in another breath in response, shuddering slightly at the burn. "I can bear it, if barely," I responded.
Shock crossed her face, and she spoke so quietly I did not know if the words were meant for me, though she addressed me. "You are a remarkable man, Garrett Smith, to withstand this scent with no training, in such a crowded place."
Our conversation had taken but seconds, but one of the patrons moved toward Mary, the only female in the bar besides the barmaid. I recognized his intentions immediately, and took her elbow as I moved us out of the bar and into the warm night, taking in the new air immediately to wash away the burn. I doubted I had been there more than three minutes. I did not go towards our meeting point, but moved north and east from Chester, towards my home, following the river.
"You found no sign," I said, and it was not a question.
"He did not return to this side between here and the city, and he did not emerge on the other side. I can only guess that he moved up the river and entered the city from the docks."
So close! Susan's house was only blocks away from those docks. I released Mary immediately and we were running, closing the short miles in only a few minutes. We leapt the Schulykill easily, crossed the land north of the river, ignoring the docks, and she stopped me when we reached the southern end of Broad Street.
"Are you ready?" Mary asked. "This will be like the tavern. You will be surrounded by people."
"I have to be," I replied and moved forward slowly, as humanly as possible.
Mary curled her arm into mine, as if we were only a couple out for a walk. I moved us west along South Street, then north on Fifth Street, very close now to my old home, my old work, my old life, my old love. A very long walk for a couple in the night, though no one seemed to notice. We stopped at Market.
"Susan or your family?" she asked.
"Susan," I replied, and we turned east on Market. Before I could think I was in front of her house. I realized that I had not breathed in nearly an hour. The sky was very dark above us, the stars beautiful, with no moon to deflect their light.
"You are my cousin, from New York," I instructed quietly. "Mr. Kelly will answer. My body was found in New York, and you wish to inform Susan Kelly, for I had a letter of hers on my person. You need to deliver the news in person. My immediate family could not take the pain. He does not know my family, he will not know the truth."
Mary nodded, and I was quickly on a very familiar branch of a very familiar tree. I examined Susan's room, but there was no sign that she had lived here in a long time. I was still unwilling to breathe through my nose, so I could not organize the human scents around the house, only the dull burning.
Mary knocked quietly. It was not late, but perhaps too late for visitors. "Yes?" Mr. Kelly answered, clearly irritable at the intrusion. He was older, heavier, and what hair he had left was grayer. Mrs. Kelly was behind him, but I did not see any other family members.
"I'm sorry to bother you, Mr. Kelly. My name is Mary Winthrop," she said the name smoothly, and I wondered if it was her real name. "My cousin is Garrett Smith. Was, I should say. He was…he died in New York earlier this week, and I have returned his body here with my husband, for I live there, so that he could be buried with his family."
Mary lied very smoothly, and put real grief in her voice, faking tears in order to keep her face from the light.
"Garrett…Smith? I remember the lad. I thought he died in the war. Why are you here?" Mr. Kelly responded.
"He carried a letter with him, in the pocket of his uniform, a letter for a Susan Kelly." I patted Susan's letter, always near my heart, as she spoke. "I wanted her to have it."
"I don't know if that is such a good idea," Mrs. Kelly offered from behind her husband.
"The letter is addressed to her, and I want to respect my cousin's wishes. If I could speak to Susan?"
"Why did your family not tell you? Susan is Mrs. Roland now. She lives on Rittenhouse Square." Mr. Kelly looked suspicious, and I cursed myself for my lack of foresight.
Then I was reeling. Susan was married. To someone wealthy, if she lived on Rittenhouse Square. All my fears, old and new, were confirmed. She had moved on completely.
"Oh. I'm sorry, they have so much on their minds, they must have forgotten. If you could just tell me where she lives?" Mary recovered far more quickly than I could.
"She lives at the corner of Chancellor and Eighteenth Street, though I do not know if now is the time. Perhaps tomorrow?" Mr. Kelly looked annoyed again.
"Yes. Thank you for your help. I will see her tomorrow," Mary replied, but I was already moving from the roof of one building to another, west down Market, around City Hall and south on Broad, then west on Walnut, until I was only a block away. Mary caught me then.
"There is no reason to speak to her!" she hissed. "We need only affirm that she is alive, and then we should check on your family." She gripped my arm tightly, but I moved away from her, across the rooftops of the luxurious homes, until I was at the corner I sought. I peered into every window in the street, and then I found her.
Her home was gorgeous, as nice as could be found in the city. Of course she would attract the interest of a wealthy suitor. Though most of the lights were dim, I saw expensive furniture throughout the house. I assessed her new home before I concentrated on her. I used my hearing first. One, two, three, four heartbeats were in the house, two slow and steady, one moving at a normal pace, and one racing quickly. Two of the hearbeats were sleeping. I wanted the scent, but ignored it, still not trusting it. I used my eyes instead. A small child in her own bed, a very average man, Mr. Roland I presumed, in the master bedroom. The girl was no more than three, and she had Susan's lovely blonde hair, and much of her beautiful face as well. I moved to the light in the house.
Susan sat in a rocking chair, a baby in her arms, another girl, perhaps a year old. She rocked slowly, back and forth, speaking softly to the child. I stretched my hearing toward them.
"…Only a nightmare, don't worry my love, my darling Charlotte, quiet now, all is well." Her voice was exactly the same as I remembered it, unchanged in seven years. The child, Charlotte, murmured quietly in her arms.
Susan was as beautiful as the visions in my head. Older, obviously. She was twenty-six now, the same age I had been before I transformed. But her beauty had not changed, was not affected by the years. She was more mature, but still breathtaking in every aspect, astonishing me to my core, and before I could think, I inhaled through my nose.
I caught Susan's smell immediately, and it was intoxicating beyond words, beyond anything I had ever smelled, and I was outside her window without being aware of it. And then I felt a familiar body wrapping around me, except this time she was more effective in stopping my movements. "You will regret it for the rest of your existence. Possibly forever," Mary whispered in my ear.
I did the only thing I could do, and launched our bodies away from the sill, for her words cut through the smell and to my heart. We were on the roof across the street again, and I was perched on the ledge towards the home, as I had been before, Mary right next to me.
"Your family?" Mary asked.
"I need…another moment," I sighed, and stared again at Susan. I was not aware of how long I crouched on the ledge of the roof, staring at her, until she placed the baby in the crib, blew out the candle, and returned to her husband. I continued to stare until Mary roused me.
"Garrett! Where did you used to live?" She asked, with urgency in her voice.
"On Vine Street, near Fifth," I replied, still not paying attention.
"That would be north and east of here, less than a mile?" she asked.
"Yes!" I replied irritably, finally looking up from the window of the master bedroom and at Mary's face, though she was not looking at me. I followed her gaze, and saw the light, brighter than any other in the night, saw the smoke against the clear night.
"It is burning," she said. And she was right.
I did not know if I could leave Susan again, but Mary was in the air immediately moving towards my old home, and towards William. His name in my thoughts finally awakened me. He might have killed my family. He might want to kill Susan. He had to be stopped.
I moved behind her from roof to roof, across the streets of my old city. I was across Market behind her, ready to continue, when I realized she had stopped.
"I have his scent," she said, and moved away from my old home, east towards the Delaware. "I will find him. You must see what he has done, find his purpose."
She leapt towards the river as I returned to my path, until the smoke was thick around me. I searched the street when I could, and saw them. My mother, my father, my brother clutching a woman to him, a woman I assumed was his wife. What could William's purpose be, to burn my old home?
I caught his scent when the smoke moved away on a thick breeze from the river. He had moved back towards Market. I followed it to Susan's home, and I smelled three vampire scents. I smelled William, rose and perfume. I smelled Mary, the wildflower. I smelled myself, not floral, but like the deepest part of the forest. And the horror returned.
I led him to her!
The horror flooded through me, far greater than before. He did not know her last name. I had only spoken of her in my dreams. He would not be able to find her with us behind him, would not have the time. He needed to mask his scent. He needed to be careful so that we didn't find him, until we revealed where Susan was. I would go to Susan before my family, and he could divert me with the fire until he found her. He could use the river to distract us. No matter what we decided, we would be disoriented by his scent coming and going from the river. We might know his purpose, but we could not know his plan.
I was moving before I even realized it, not following his path, but the shortest distance to her home. My muscles worked as they never had before, but they were not fast enough. It was only a minute that I sprinted from rooftop to rooftop, but it was a minute too long.
She was not in the bedroom when I landed at the window. Her husband was alone. The window was still open
Then I smelled the blood.
I was in the air immediately, and I could see everything as flew towards the dark alley across the square, beyond the wealth. William's mouth was at her neck, and her blood was flowing from her body.
I barely registered the smell now. I only knew one thing.
I was too late.