Lilith/Cain

"How could you just let her leave?!" Vivian cried, her hands in the air. "She's in no condition to be trekking out into the wilderness so far away from home!"

There was nothing Arthur could say that would ease her worries, so he merely took the brunt of her ranting without flinching. "I just got off the phone with Chris. They ran into some trouble, but they're fine."

In a rare moment of weakness, Vivian put her hands to her head. "What am I going to do when something happens to her this time?" Her voice broke. "The last time she was so far away, across the ocean. I couldn't get to her." She drew in an unsteady breath that made her whole body tremble. "I can't do that again..."

Arthur approached her then, wrapping his arms around her. "I know."

She clutched the front of his shirt in a death grip with both hands. "It's my job to look after her. How can I do that when she goes where I can't reach her?"

"She'll make it through this. She's strong, she learned that from you. She'll come back like she always does."

Tears ran down her face. "How much is going to be left of her this time?"

She wore her pain like she wore her anger and her stubbornness, Vivian was never one to keep her feelings bottled up. They were etched into her skin like battle scars.

She pulled away, shaking her head. "No, I won't let her do it this time. I'm going after her."
Arthur held his hands up placatingly. "Viv, you can't do that right now. Have you forgotten that you're being targeted? You shouldn't travel when there are people after you."

She gave him a defiant look. "Weren't you supposed to be figuring out who they are?"

"I've been trying, but the only thing I know for certain is that they're hunters."

Here she was curious. "Why would hunters be after me? I'm not a vampire." She folded her arms across her chest.

"I have no idea. That's the dead end I keep running into."

"Well, how do you know they're hunters?"

He pulled a business card out of his pocket. "The one that broke into the apartment had this symbol on his armband."

She took the card from him, inspecting it carefully. On one side was a phone number. On the other was a silhouette of a sword with a thorny vine wrapped around it. "This looks familiar..."

"It's a hunter symbol. Harris updated it for our small group, but this is the original. It's a way to recognize each other in the field."

"I guess vampire-hunting would be hard to discuss in public." She tapped the card against her bottom lip while she thought. "Where have I seen this before..."

He took the card back from her. "You've seen this somewhere?"

"Not that exact symbol, but something similar... Oh where was it?" Her earlier grief and frustration was abandoned now that she had a dilemma to focus on.

She moved to the kitchen and pulled open the drawer closest to the fridge. Inside were papers, as well as some odds and ends. She dug through the contents till at last she pulled out a cream-colored envelope. "Aha, here it is." She turned back to Arthur, who had followed her silently. "I told her to save it, because the stationary was so lovely."

She held out the envelope to him. It was addressed to Evangeline, from Nora Brun, her friend in Paris. He remembered this envelope. It had contained a get well card for Evangeline.

He turned the envelope over. On the back was a silhouette of a single black rose. Entwined around it was a thorny black vine.

He looked at both symbols side by side. "They certainly look like they could have been designed by the same graphic artist," he commented. "But... Why?" He looked at her. "Why would a vampire family crest look so similar to a hunter's mark?"

She shrugged. "How am I supposed to know that?"

He frowned. "I'm going to have to do a little research. My father had a few old books that with hunter's marks in them. Maybe I can find out the origin of the design."

"I'll get my coat." Vivian hurried to the hall. There were two empty hooks on the wall. She ignored them as she removed her and Arthur's coats.

"You're coming with me?" he asked in confusion as she handed him his coat.

"I'm going to go bonkers unless I have something to do. Besides," She gave him a serious look. "You don't plan on leaving me all by myself when I'm being targeted, right?"

He let out a sigh. "I suppose I can't."

She smiled and he was dazzled, like always. "Where are we headed?"

"Brooklyn." They put on their coats and walked to the door. Arthur fished his car keys out of his pocket. "My father had a storage container there."

xxxXXXxxx

Arthur removed the large padlock from the door and pocketed it. He pulled the door open and gestured for Vivian to go first. He followed her, flipping on the light.

A bare bulb lit the small space dimly. The ten cubic feet available was nearly completely taken up by boxes, cases, and crates. A narrow aisle went from the door to the back.

Vivian looked up at the stacks, some of which easily rose three feet above her head. "Nothing is labeled..."

"I know where everything is," he assured her. When they reached the very back he moved a box aside, revealing a bookshelf. It was shabby and only held up by the boxes crammed tightly all around it.

She eyed a towering stack of dining room chairs warily. "I didn't know you had all this stuff. Why do you keep it all here?"

"Because it's not mine. It's my father's." He rifled through the full shelves quickly.

"Isn't he dead?"

"He'd better be. His ashes are right here." He lifted up an old metal tin briefly.

"You don't like any of his stuff," she guessed. "Why hold onto it?"

"Because it's too dangerous to let go of. I've never been through it all, so I'm not sure what's safe to dispose of." He looked around grimly. "I haven't exactly been up to dredging through old memories, either."

She put a hand on his shoulder. "When you're ready to, I'll help."

He pulled a book off the shelf. "Here we go." He flipped through the pages quickly. He scowled after a few seconds. "I could never decipher his chicken scratches..."

"Hand it here. I read medical charts all day."

He passed it to her and pulled a heavily modified atlus out next.

She reached into her coat and pulled out a small leather case. From this she removed a slim pair of glasses. She put them on and browsed through the book. "These illustrations are quite detailed. Did your father draw these?"

"Most likely."

"He had quite a steady hand," she praised.

"When he was sober."

She fell into reading the descriptions under the hunter's marks. The handwriting wasn't messy so much as tiny, with the letters crammed together or even overlapping.

"Says here the hunter's mark is a family crest too, a human one." She indicated a paragraph, but he was absorbed in the atlas. "Arthur, it's yours."

His head snapped up. "What?"

"It's the Statton family crest. Says here it was created by the Statton family in 1426 to, and I quote, 'show the Statton family's dedication in eradicating the Mark of Cain'." She flipped the page, reading the other side. "I guess that's what they called vampirism back then?"

Arthur thought that over. "God supposedly punished Cain by marking him so that he couldn't die of premature death." He looked back down at the book in his hands. "I can see how that's similar to vampirism."

He showed her the page he was on. "Take a look at this." It was a double-page spread of the map of the world. There were drawings on the right page over certain countries: France, Russia, Japan, & Algeria. She recognized them all as variations of the hunter's mark. France had the rose, Russia had the hammer, Japan had the dragon, and Algeria had the serpent.

She touched the rose with the tips of her fingers. “They’re all family crests. Four vampire, and one human.” She gave him a worried look. “What does it mean?”

He lifted his eyes to hers reluctantly. “I wish I knew.”

xxxXXXxxx

We’re so close now.

‘Just a bit farther.’

How are we supposed to do this? She’s so strong.

‘There is no ‘we’ in this, only ‘you’. You were the one that ran away.’

I still don’t remember.

‘You don’t have to. You just have to finish what you started.’

But why? Why do I have to?

‘Because you didn’t finish it the first time. You were too cowardly, in the end.’

No, that can’t be right…

‘Don’t you remember even that much? How you failed?’

Visions assaulted him then, flashing quickly behind his eyes. The force of them made him stagger.

“Hey, let’s kill Lilith...” A voice exactly like his.

“Why?” Another voice, the same as the first. Troubled and sad.

“Because if we don’t, we’ll never be free. She’s going to take everything away from us, the most important thing.” Brown eyes, glittering red deep inside, so full of determination. Tiny hands clenched into fists. “We have to do this.”

“Ga’vriel has gotten so strong, it’s clear he has the most potential. Lilith has noticed it as well…” A new voice, but also familiar. Deep and melodious, insidiously snaking through his head.

“Tell me who you love the most in the entire world…” A soft voice that was sweeter than a long-awaited reunion and more lovely than happy tears clinging to your true love’s eyelashes.

Not you. Not any longer.

‘That’s right. You’re beginning to remember.’

We’re here.

‘Go inside.’

I must. She’s waiting for me.

xxxXXXxxx

His footsteps echoed over a granite floor worn smooth by time. They were they only sounds to break the silence.

Black briars grew all over the walls, seething with a dark vitality that mere plant matter could not possess. The thorns were easily long enough to reach a heart through the stoutest ribcage, and sharp enough to pierce one made of stone.

She sat on her throne and watched him approach. They were alone in the wide, empty space. Her pale blue eyes followed his steps, but otherwise she was unmoving. “What do you hope to accomplish here?” she asked him coldly.

He stood before her, wearing darkness like a shroud. His eyes glowed bright red. “Finishing what I started.”

“A door cannot be unlocked with half a key. An enemy cannot be slain with half a sword. You have come here only to fail.”

His claws dug into his palms. “I know that, but it still doesn’t change anything. This is where I must be, where all roads before me lead. Success and failure are my only options, I cannot walk away.”

“‘Success’ is but a shadow of hope’s promise. Less substantial than a baby’s sigh.”

“Then I will fail here, but I knowing that I still have the most important thing.”

A brief glimmer of interest in those dull eyes. “Oh? And what might that be?”

He bared his fangs. “Something you will never touch.”

She lifted one hand and the briars tensed as one. They waited in tight anticipation. “We shall see about that.”