Chapter 1: The Streets of London

 

London late 1800’s

            Fog hung thick and wet in the air choking the cobblestone streets. Buildings crowded together and reached toward the orange tinged sky. The woman and her small child moved through the streets on silent feet, scurrying in the shadows like the rats. The girl was about five years old and she sucked on her grubby fingers, her mother’s breath coming in ragged gasps, she bent over her swollen stomach and grimaced.

            “Momma is my little brother coming?” the girl stared at her mom with large quizzical eyes, the woman smiled weakly and continued walking, they needed to get to the old witch’s flat or her son will be lost. She felt the first pangs of his arrival six hours ago; she wanted to wait until dark though. She paused and listened to the fog filled streets, men were laughing boisterously, and fighting a block or so away at one of taverns. The girl raised her head and then started whimpering.

            “Mama he’s here in the shadows I smell him and he isn’t alone.” Her dear sweet Elinore so brave and smart, the child will become something great and it wont just be wishful thinking on her mother’s part. Every parent wants his or her child to be something; every parent believes their child will be something great. The dream that will never come true if you were part of the working class, as soon as a mother gave birth, she was back to work in the stuffy factories, her back aching her vision failing. Sometimes her children were in the same factory working beside their mother and or father. It was heart breaking for the parent to witness their child die slowly before their eyes, it was due to poor work conditions, and performing tasks such as fixing machines, that caused the children to wither and eventually die. Elizabeth witnessed her first son get crushed alive as he was sent to see what was jamming the press, she became hysterical as workers held her back and the fragile bones of the boy were reduced to nothing, his agonized screams echoing in the factory. Elizabeth mourned and never spoke of her William for when she lost him, the man she loved took his life by pistol, when Elinore was just in a swaddling blanket, and the girl remembers neither man.

            Pain shot through her stomach again and she felt wetness between her legs, he was coming and he would not be stopped. Elinore stood still and was looking around, she was observing her surroundings, Elizabeth yanked her daughter and they started walking. Now was not the time for one of her trances, she held a hand under her stomach as she gasped. “Ellie darling, please we need to get to Madeline’s!” Elizabeth felt the girl let go of her hand and she cried out as pain brought her to her knees, she cried out as her knees scraped the cobblestones. She looked up and saw her daughter standing over her, a frown on the girl’s face, her brow knitted together in thought. Elinore shook her head and looked over her shoulder then nodded. The clock tolled midnight and horses clattered in a hurried frenzy somewhere, probably taking some noble home to their nice warm house. Elizabeth groaned and tried getting off the cobblestones, a small hand on her shoulder brought her back to her current reality. Elizabeth looked up Ellie, tears pouring down her cheeks; he daughter smiled then put her fingers to Elizabeth’s lips.

            “Hush momma, he will not hurt us he will help us, but you must be calm, and he said you must sleep.” Panic flowed through Elizabeth’s veins and she tried pushing herself off the rough cobbles but her daughter kept her hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder, the grip like a hawk with its prey. “No momma you must stay, and I am sorry for this but you must sleep!” Elizabeth screamed as she saw the flash of a needle and the felt the stinging liquid flow through her veins, it warmed them making her whole body feel heavy. Elizabeth was in shock, she put a hand to her neck where the needle stuck her and looked at her daughter.

            “Sorry Elizabeth, our son will not wait. If he does, he shall die here on the streets.” The voice rang from the shadows and she saw the pale face hidden under his top hat, cascading black hair and his eyes burned into hers. They seemed to glow as if lit by the fires of hell; she smelled his cologne and felt her head grow heavy.

            “No, I will not let you take him like you have my daughter!” she whispered through leaden lips and let the drug take over her.

~*~

            Elizabeth awoke to the smell of cloves, medicine, and blood. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the dimness of the room, pain tore at her stomach, and her breasts were painful and tender. She looked frantically around for her daughter and baby, the bed she was in felt confining and more like a coffin than a large mattress filled with down. The pillows were plump; the fabric covering them was a rich cool silk. The room started to become blurry and her limbs felt heavy. Her heart was as pain filled as the sex between her legs. She laid her head on the pillow and cried he had managed to steal her daughter and her son. Tears stained the blue silk in small splashes; she tasted the saltiness on her lips. Closing her eyes, she let herself fall into darkness and surround herself with the scents of the house.

There were whistles being blown somewhere, another body must have been found or some one ended up falling into the river, who knew, who cared, definitely not Elizabeth Madison. Her senses were sharper, she focused her thoughts on finding her son, and she felt her body grow light and then sucked back to the bed.

“How dare he put wards on my room!” she weakly closed her mind off and lost herself in the pictures that played continuously behind her closed lids. She used to love him, but that somehow changed over the years.

~*~

Elizabeth sat on the banks and watched the swirling brown waters. There was a chill in the air but it was better than sitting with her mother and their friends, while they gossiped and cackled like a bunch of barnyard hens. She was born into a family of wealth, but she always wondered what it would have been like, to live in the world of the working class people her mother always talked about. She threw a few stray stones into the waters, sighing deeply. She was to meet some gentleman, that one of her mother’s simpering friends forced upon her.

            “My dear Liza you would be grateful to accept Mrs. Peterson’s kind offer.” Her mother would say, then sip her tea and wipe her mouth with a little lace kerchief. “Given your unusual, well you know.” Her mother would then sip her tea again and wave her hand dismissively.

            “Oh mother it is not like it is a life threatening sickness, I should not be treated like a leper because I can shape shift.” Her mother would then clear her throat and ignore the comment. This was a conversation that happened every time the gentleman was brought up and her mother’s response was always the same.

            “My dear it is a malady and if any of my lady friends heard that your dear departed father was nothing but a mangy animal in human form. I would be shunned from proper society and so will you too! I kept his secret as I have kept yours. Mr. Crowely has been informed that your health is shall we say delicate and you may not be able to give him children.” She would take a deep breath and stare sternly at her daughter, “he has agreed that while it is unfortunate about your health, he would still be happy to court you. Besides, Mrs. Peterson has advised me that Mr. Crowely has his own peculiar malady. No my dear it is a smart match and I will not hear any more about it.” Then her mother would get up to walk in the small garden behind the house.

            Elizabeth stared at her reflection of the setting sun, the sky painted with orange and the faint glimmer of night mixing with the death of daylight. She looked up at the sky and looked at the small gems glittering just above the houses. She sighed this was always a fascinating time of day for her, the sun was still burning but the stars dared to taunt the sun and dance across its painted descent. She sighed again and threw more pebbles in to the Thames, she did enjoy the solitude of this spot, and it was somewhat bewitching.

            “Such a big sigh for such a small lady.” She was startled out of her thoughts and looked around for the man who addressed her. His voice was pleasing and deep but she didn’t appreciate being spied on.

            “Sir, please show yourself, I detest being spied on!” she wanted to run, something in her was telling her to run home but she was also very curious about this man that managed to sneak up on her with out her knowing it. She heard the soft thud of boots to her left; a figure emerged from the shadows of the bridge. He was tall and very slender, his hair was tied back with a black ribbon, and his face was angular and very feminine looking. Wisps of stray hair framed his face and his eyes were so dark they matched his black hair, he was dressed in a pair of black britches, and a white ruffled shirt was peeking out at her from under the black over coat. He smiled and that smiled dripped pure sexual desire and then he bowed.

            “Forgive me madam but I was not spying on purpose. I was just out for an evening stroll and I came across a radiant creature that captured my attention.” He was still bowed but he looked at her from under long black lashes, his lips held an amused smile and Elizabeth felt herself blush. He was very handsome and she blushed again as she caught the smoldering look in his eyes. “Permit me to introduce myself, my name is Alastair.” He extended a black-gloved hand and she took it. Most gentlemen wore whit he was strange indeed, mother would definitely not approve of him. The gloved hand enclosed hers and time stood still as he lifted her to her feet and pressed his pale lips to her bare wrist. This intimate gesture made Elizabeth yank her hand back and stare at the swirling waters again, anything to distract her.

            “Am I to address you as just Alastair? Not by the proper way to address a gentleman?” she looked at him and put on her best haughty expression to try to deter his advances.

            “Well madam you can address me however you wish, but I have yet to know your name.” She saw him come closer to her and his chuckle was deep and seemed to echo throughout the riverbank. Her heart was hammering in her chest and she turned back to stare at the river and saw his reflection. She turned back and looked at him and felt herself fall into those black eyes, shaking her head, Elizabeth turned on her heel and started walking away from him. He was a dangerous cad that provoked lewd thoughts, and she was too much of a lady to fall for his charms. He grabbed her arm and her pulled her close to him, she felt the dense material of his coat, the smell of something spicy on his skin and the heat coming from his body. He leaned in and brushed his lips against her neck, she felt his teeth graze her flesh and she yanked away, heart pounding, pulse racing.

            “You sir had no permission to do such a thing! You treat me as if I’m some sort of common street w***e!” Elizabeth started running away, she heard him call after her.

            “I’m sorry but please tell me your name.” He stared at the creature in front of him her eyes flashing with anger. She raised her head high and regarded him coolly as if he were some ruffian that smelled offensive.

            “My name is Elizabeth.” She gave him another snide look and ran all the way home. She dashed through the front door and almost knocked her mother over. Her mother stared wide eyes at her daughter then put a hand to Elizabeth’s head.

            “My dear you look as if the devil himself were chasing you. Are you ill?” Elizabeth’s mother led her into the parlor, the girl was gasping and trying to calm herself. She shook her head and closed her eyes steadying her breath.

            “I’m alright momma I just had a terrible fright that is all.” She really didn’t want to tell her mother about the man, it would most certainly make her mother swoon then send for the constable. Her mother came over to her, turned her head to the side, and tsked.

            “Elizabeth dear you must be more careful you have gone and scratched your neck. We now must figure out a way to hide it since you are meeting Mr. Crowely tomorrow night at Mitzy VanCleef’s ball.” Elizabeth felt her stomach sink and sulked, her mother kept chattering. “Luckily it is a masked ball, oh you will look radiant in the costume Madame Leslie has provided.” Elizabeth nodded and excused herself. She went up to her room and examined her neck in the looking glass, two punctures were under the blood on her neck, and she muttered. If only her mother would let her shift then she could heal. Elizabeth lay on her bed and fell asleep dreaming of Alastair and his lips on her bare flesh. The tingles that raced through her body wanting more of him, she wanted to be consumed by him. She sighed it felt like he was almost there with her. She let herself fall into the dream, not thinking of the ball or the betrothed Mr. Crowely.