Blood Past(7)

Cyrus got into the car just in time to hear her grumbling under her breath like a six year old. “Why are you sullen? That went well.”

“It did? Gee, how did I ever interpret it differently?”

Her guardian rolled his eyes and drew on his seatbelt. “Sarcasm is unattractive.”

“So are ambush tactics on unsuspecting victims,” she argued.

“You were not ambushed. You were assessed.”

Eden snorted. “Well did I meet his highness' exacting standards?”

“Eden,” Cyrus warned, stretching his arm across the back of her seat as he twisted his neck around to see out the back window as he reversed out of the parking space. The move also served to make her feel crowded and intimidated. “I will only put up with so much. Darius is a friend and someone to be respected and yes… feared. Do not speak of him in such a disrespectful manner.” Feeling somewhat cowed by his rational and calm tone Eden glanced away from him. “Sorry.”

“Apology accepted. And yes. You met Darius' approval. Not that you needed it.” She looked back up at him, trying to keep the hopeful look out of her eyes and failing. He smiled softly at her and for the first time ever she felt the presence of a father figure who might actually really care.

The hunger growled in her chest. You can't trust him, Eden. He's one of them.

She winced and drew in a shuddering breath. “I think I need another dose of the drug.” Cyrus leaned over her and flipped open the compartment in the dashboard in front of her. Inside was the familiar syringe and vial. “I thought you might.” Somehow… that made her feel a little better.

Chapter Two

Cousin Fortieth Removed

Edinburgh was a hustle and bustle city. But, Eden decided, it was definitely one of a kind. Beyond the constant flow of traffic and a road system she couldn't get her head around, and beyond the colourful people and bohemian chic students, was a fairytale world from ancient times, smacked down in the centre of everything. It was kind of epic.

Cyrus, who had been to Edinburgh more times than he could count, pointed everything out like a seasoned tour guide and Eden drank it all in, excited and amazed. They drove onto Princes Street, which Cyrus told her was really famous for its stores. The castle was at the other end on the west side. Eden was desperate to see it. But because of the road system, Cyrus turned left at the famous Balmoral hotel, an exquisite Victorian building with a gothic clock tower.

“The Balmoral Hotel was once called The North British Hotel built for North British Railway.

Traditionally, the clock is set two minutes fast, so that travellers make their train on time at the Waverley train station below us.”

“Cool.” Eden smiled, as they drove over a long bridge. “Whoa.” Her eyes widened as she gazed to her left. “Do the Greeks know Scotland stole stuff?”

Cyrus smiled. “Calton Hill. That is the National Monument, built as a memorial to those who died fighting in the Napoleonic Wars. It is modelled on the Parthenon but they ran out of money when they started building back in the late nineteenth century, and still it remains incomplete.”

“Yeah, getting that. What about all the stuff in front of it?” Her guardian snorted, she was guessing at her use of the word ‘stuff'. “Other monuments. What is left of the old Calton Jail…” He drifted off as buildings obscured their view. The traffic lights turned to red giving Eden some time to look around. She wasn't familiar with most of the store names. She gazed at people in line at a bank, others in an Italian restaurant on the corner, others coming out of a hotel, and some brave folks dashing across a cobbled street, trying to beat the bus coming straight for them.

“It smells different here.”

“What does it smell like?”

“Warm?” She shrugged. “Exciting. It's old… but new. There's something kind of comforting in that. And I know those technically aren't scents but… I don't know…”

“I think I understand.” Cyrus smiled again and moved the car forward as the lights changed. “That road is The Royal Mile. I will take you down here once we are settled.” Eden craned to have a look but the traffic was moving too fast. The buildings in Edinburgh were all old: Georgian, Victorian, pre-War. Some retailers she recognised, others not so much. Some were like market stalls made into stores, creating a kind of hodgepodge of classic elegance and quirky tourism. There seemed to be a ton of college types hanging around, and as Cyrus manoeuvred them through streets that seemed to blur together, he pointed out the University of Edinburgh.

“Student central,” he explained.

Eden barely got a chance to take in the courtyard that shared the same paradox as the rest of the city. With two beautiful old buildings overlooking it and then a kind of dingy late 20th century-looking building on the far left it was certainly different that was for sure. They swept around it, and as they followed the road she could see the back of the main campus. There was a huge building of modern architecture and further up buildings of mid-to-late twentieth century design, including a towering building that Eden, if she were human, would have hated to have classes in. She'd be dead by the time she reached the top. She drank in as much of the city in as possible, listening to Cyrus'

soothing voice. But the closer they drew to their destination - some place called Morningside - the more nervous Eden grew, and the more the city began to lose its lustre.

“No need to be anxious, Eden.”

“Yeah. I just… this is it… you know.”

“I know.”

They seemed to be driving out of the somewhat frantic buzz of the city centre and into a quieter area of Edinburgh. It looked mostly the same; there just weren't as many pedestrians, although the traffic flow never stopped. Finally they turned down a side street off the main street, passed an old art deco theatre that caught Eden's eye, and came to a stop in a marked parking space outside a row of houses. Beautiful houses. Not huge, but they definitely had a sense of grandeur about them. A large black door with a gothic brass knocker drew Eden's attention to a house on their right. It swung open and a tall guy in jeans and a plain t-shirt stepped out, his shoulders straight, his eyes casting around the street before settling on Valeria's Volvo as she pulled in, in front of Cyrus.