Read Online Written in the Blood by Stephen Lloyd Jones - Free Book Online
Authors: Stephen Lloyd Jones
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blame for this? Only herself. When she had learned, all those years ago, the truth of what she was – of what Leah was – the knowledge had almost crushed her. Up until then she had spent her life trying to discover more about the hosszú életek , with the sole purpose of using that knowledge to kill the one, Balázs Jakab, who hunted her.
Through the research she’d carried out during those years of terror, she’d traced the origins of the hosszú életek back to earliest records of the Hungarian people. She’d learned of their extreme longevity, their low fertility, their ability to manipulate the very contours of their flesh, and heal themselves and others. The discovery that she was one of them felt too huge, too wrenching, to throw a leash around and tame.
As a young mother, Hannah would have been happy to see every last one of the Long Lives burned in a pile. Then, of course, she met Gabriel, son of the hosszú életek leader, the Örökös Főnök , and her life grew more complicated still. She reined in her hatred of the hosszú életek people and focused it instead on Balázs Jakab alone, until it burned with a white heat. And then she burned him , inside the mill at Le Moulin Bellerose.
Hannah had expected to die that afternoon in France; had expected the stench of her melting flesh to be the last thing she smelled, the flames and the horror of that scene the last thing she felt. She had wanted to survive so her daughter wouldn’t be alone. But she had been willing to give up her life to defeat Jakab; and, in a way, she had welcomed the prospect of death. Her journey had been too long, too brutal, and she yearned for the peace that death might bring.
Blinded, scarred by the memory of that day, tortured by the loss of her husband, she had survived, nevertheless, due to Gabriel and his mother. They had brought her, by degrees, back into this world. But what they recovered was a wretched creature, a broken thing.
So many times, in the months that followed, Hannah asked herself whether she would have served Leah better by succumbing to the flames. She didn’t adapt easily to her loss of sight. Her role, for as long as she could remember, had been as protector to her family. Now she found herself dependent on its support. In some ways she felt she’d been left with the very worst of outcomes: a survivor, yes, but not as she would have wished. She remained as a burden, a shackle. At nine years old Leah found herself, within a matter of days, robbed of her father and left with a blind and emotionally fractured mother. How the girl had coped, Hannah would never know.
And then, in the midst of all that, they found out the truth of what they were, discovered the awful reality – that they were actually a part of all this: not just part of the greater hosszú életek family either, but part of him , part of Jakab. Even now, it sickened her to consider it.
Balázs Jakab. Balázs Lukács, as once he had been called. The murderer of her husband, her parents. So many others.
Somewhere during his journey of blood, Hannah had learned, Jakab had supplanted one of her ancestors long enough to father a child. And on the heels of that revelation came the knowledge of its terrible consequence.
Until her heritage was revealed, the hosszú életek had believed Gabriel was the last of their race. Even though the Irishman concealed it well, Hannah had glimpsed the awful bleakness he carried with him: no one with whom to share his life; no possibility of children; a lifespan that offered him nothing except the prolonged horror of watching his friends and loved ones dwindle away.
And then all of that changed. Gabriel passed to Leah the distinction of being the world’s youngest, and for a time, in the months that followed, there arose a strange jubilation among those who heard of her existence.
Hannah tried to keep secret the exact details of their heritage, but of course it eventually slipped out. And when it did, that
Through the research she’d carried out during those years of terror, she’d traced the origins of the hosszú életek back to earliest records of the Hungarian people. She’d learned of their extreme longevity, their low fertility, their ability to manipulate the very contours of their flesh, and heal themselves and others. The discovery that she was one of them felt too huge, too wrenching, to throw a leash around and tame.
As a young mother, Hannah would have been happy to see every last one of the Long Lives burned in a pile. Then, of course, she met Gabriel, son of the hosszú életek leader, the Örökös Főnök , and her life grew more complicated still. She reined in her hatred of the hosszú életek people and focused it instead on Balázs Jakab alone, until it burned with a white heat. And then she burned him , inside the mill at Le Moulin Bellerose.
Hannah had expected to die that afternoon in France; had expected the stench of her melting flesh to be the last thing she smelled, the flames and the horror of that scene the last thing she felt. She had wanted to survive so her daughter wouldn’t be alone. But she had been willing to give up her life to defeat Jakab; and, in a way, she had welcomed the prospect of death. Her journey had been too long, too brutal, and she yearned for the peace that death might bring.
Blinded, scarred by the memory of that day, tortured by the loss of her husband, she had survived, nevertheless, due to Gabriel and his mother. They had brought her, by degrees, back into this world. But what they recovered was a wretched creature, a broken thing.
So many times, in the months that followed, Hannah asked herself whether she would have served Leah better by succumbing to the flames. She didn’t adapt easily to her loss of sight. Her role, for as long as she could remember, had been as protector to her family. Now she found herself dependent on its support. In some ways she felt she’d been left with the very worst of outcomes: a survivor, yes, but not as she would have wished. She remained as a burden, a shackle. At nine years old Leah found herself, within a matter of days, robbed of her father and left with a blind and emotionally fractured mother. How the girl had coped, Hannah would never know.
And then, in the midst of all that, they found out the truth of what they were, discovered the awful reality – that they were actually a part of all this: not just part of the greater hosszú életek family either, but part of him , part of Jakab. Even now, it sickened her to consider it.
Balázs Jakab. Balázs Lukács, as once he had been called. The murderer of her husband, her parents. So many others.
Somewhere during his journey of blood, Hannah had learned, Jakab had supplanted one of her ancestors long enough to father a child. And on the heels of that revelation came the knowledge of its terrible consequence.
Until her heritage was revealed, the hosszú életek had believed Gabriel was the last of their race. Even though the Irishman concealed it well, Hannah had glimpsed the awful bleakness he carried with him: no one with whom to share his life; no possibility of children; a lifespan that offered him nothing except the prolonged horror of watching his friends and loved ones dwindle away.
And then all of that changed. Gabriel passed to Leah the distinction of being the world’s youngest, and for a time, in the months that followed, there arose a strange jubilation among those who heard of her existence.
Hannah tried to keep secret the exact details of their heritage, but of course it eventually slipped out. And when it did, that
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