"Are we the only people who live here?" I ask, marveling at the plethora of choices before me.
"Dracula's a temporary guest as well, but generally yes, why?" Lily asks.
"Were any of you in my room earlier?" I ask.
Everyone says no and continues with their conversations.
While Moon sleeps in the pocket of my cardigan, I get a cup of tea and dish up some fruit, yogurt and granola before taking a seat between Matilda and Elijah, my mind still on the mystery of my made bed and stoked fire.
Elijah smiles at me. "I saw you put the books I gave you back. Give up? They can be very dry."
I shake my head, swallowing a bite before answering. "No. I mean, yes, they're dry for sure. Dear god they're dry. But no, I finished them all and am ready for more."
His eyes widen. "What do you mean you finished them?"
"I mean finished them. You know, read them.”
“All of them?”
“Of course, all of them. Hopefully I put them back in the right places.” I shrug. “Anyway, I need more.” I'm saying all this in between bites because I realized with all the excitement last night, I never got dinner and I am starving.
"How's that possible?" he asks.
At this point, everyone else at the table is paying attention as well, so I explain about my speed-reading and my near photographic memory. "Didn't you wonder how I got so many degrees at such a young age?" I ask.
And I realize no one at the table even considered the fact that I actually am the age I look. I have not lived multiple lifetimes. Just the one.
"So in twenty-five years—and you started as an infant, yes?" Elijah asks, in all seriousness.
I laugh so hard I spit tea out and turn bright red as I clean it up. "Yes. Of course. You don't get around humans very often, do you?"
"It has been awhile," he says with a soft smile. "So, in that time, you had to grow to adulthood and you still got your degrees?" he asks, again, clarifying.
"Yes," I say, smiling at the strangeness of this conversation.
He gives me an appreciative appraisal. "You really are quite a find, Miss Eve Oliver. Quite a find. But I have a hard time believing you retained any of that knowledge. That would be—extraordinary."
"Try me," I say. This was my favorite game in college and grad school. My roommate and I would go to college bars and start talking about our classes. Inevitably some know it all mansplaining dude would come up and try to instruct us on what so-and-so meant when they wrote this or did that. We would then challenge him to a duel of knowledge. We'd find a book, (or he'd provide one, which usually made him even more confident), I would read through it, then our friends would quiz us on the content. I would quote complete passages. He would muddle through. I would win $100. He would walk away calling me a bitch.
Good times.
Elijah takes me up on my offer and begins to quiz me on the history and laws of the paranormal community.
Lily leaves the table first. Impressed, but bored. Then Matilda, who kisses my head and whispers something in another language in my ear.
Liam and Derek are quick to follow. Sebastian stays the longest, surprisingly. He's studying me as I recite and give my opinion on entire passages in their complex law and history books. But even he eventually gets bored and leaves.
At last, Elijah pauses, cocking his head. "Extraordinary. It's been many, many years since I met anyone with a mind like yours."
That perks my attention. "Really, who was the last one?" I ask.
"Al," he says. "Al had a brilliant mind. I begged him to let me turn him before he died, but he refused, insisting that all life must cycle from dust to dust. Such a waste though."
"Al?" I ask.
"Albert, actually. He hated when I called him Al. Albert Einstein."
My mouth drops. "You knew Albert Einstein?"
He smiles. "Yes."
I don't know what's giving me the full body buzz right now. The fact that I'm sitting in a house with beings who have lived with some of the most amazing talents and minds our world has ever seen, or the fact that he just favorably compared me to Albert Einstein.
I feel giddy either way, and it's nice.
Just then, my phone rings, and I answer on instinct, though the number isn't one I recognize.
"This is Eve," I say, holding a finger up to Elijah, who nods.
"You finally answered."
Jerry.
Though I've only been in my new life a few days, already my old life feels light years away. Like an old dream I struggle to remember but find the details fuzzy at best.
"You need to stop calling me," I say. "Whose number is this?"
"It doesn't matter. You keep blocking me, so I had to find a way to get through. I went to your apartment, but they said you moved. That's an extreme reaction, one propelled by grief. One you will regret in time. I spoke to the manager of the building. He and I agreed it would be best if you came back. He will return your money and you can keep your apartment. We can get you better, Eve. Have you had any more episodes?"
I frown, anger bubbling in me. "How dare you! How dare you show up at my place! How dare you speak to anyone on my behalf or imply I'm not stable enough to make my own decisions. I didn't report you to spare you your career, but there's still time to change that, Jerry. The statute of limitations hasn’t expired. I do have a law degree, if you'll recall. I know my rights and I know what would happen to you if everyone found out what you've been doing with your patients." I let my threat hang in the air, lingering there like a bad scent. I want him to feel uncomfortable in the silence. I want him to imagine what his life would be like if I followed through on my threat.
"Eve, you don't want to do that," he says, his anger brimming to the surface. I know what would happen if I was there.
Explosive anger. He would attack, verbally and physically. Afterwards he'd apologize, justify, tell stories about his abusive childhood, anything to avoid facing what he'd done and who is he. He could never handle looking at his true reflection and seeing the monster he was underneath the handsome exterior.
"I'm hanging up now and blocking this number. Do not contact me again. I will call the police if you do." I end the call and block the number, but not before taking screenshots. My hands are shaking and my breathing is labored.
I nearly jump out of my skin when Elijah puts a hand on mine.
"It's all right," he says in a calm soothing voice, like a gentle breeze on a warm night. "You're safe."
My panic attack settles into something more manageable as I use the tools I learned—ironically from Jerry himself. I find something to look at. The wood pattern of the dining room table, with its variation and imperfections that make it all the more perfect. Something to listen to. The clicking of the grandfather clock in the next room. Something to feel. I grip Elijah's hand more tightly, noticing how soft his skin is, and how long and elegant his fingers are. Something to smell. I inhale and am rewarded with the scent of fresh coffee brewing in the kitchen. And something to think about—my happy place. My sanctuary.
With Elijah's hand still in mine, I dive into my mind, controlling my breathing as the winding staircase comes into focus. I follow it down, down, down, so far down, until the red door appears. I open it and smile, relaxing into the beautiful environment I now find myself in. Nature. Running water. Birds chirping. The sun shining. Flowers swaying in the gentle breeze. And her. My Muse.
She reaches for me with a long-branched arm, leaves for fingers, and brushes them against my face gently. The wind rustles in her branches and I hear a message for me in them, but I cannot make out the specific words. It's just a feeling. I settle into that feeling, and then open my eyes.
Elijah is waiting patiently, his hand still holding mine, his eyes seeking out my own. "You are very skilled at that," he says.
"I went through a bad spell," I say. "This helped. Still does."
"And that man who called?" he frowns, worry lines forming on his smooth face.
"My ex. And former therapist."
"Does he need to be dealt with?" Elijah asks.
"Who needs to be dealt with?" Sebastian asks, returning to the dining room, his eyes seeking mine the moment he enters.
"Eve's ex is bothering her," Elijah says, with clear malice.
Sebastian's face hardens and his eyes lock onto mine. "In what way is he bothering you?" His words are slow and controlled, but there's a power behind them and I almost want to laugh at the pickle Jerry would find himself in if I unleashed the Night brothers on him.
"He just called. It's not a big deal."
Elijah flashes me a look and frowns. "It sent you into a state of panic. Did he hurt you?"
Of the four brothers, Elijah is in many ways the easiest to talk to. He has a calmness and gentleness to him that is missing in the others, but it doesn't take away from the raw force of his charisma or power. He's just as mesmerizing, and just as dangerous, I'm sure. I certainly see that danger in his eyes now, and even though it's not directed at me, it still makes me shudder.
Sebastian puts a hand on my shoulder, and his stability and solidness center me. I lean into him, relishing the touch, closing my eyes as I think back to memories I'd rather not revisit.
"I met him while my brother was sick. I was having panic attacks and they were interfering with my work and life enough to worry Adam. He convinced me to go see a therapist, thinking it would help. At first it did. Jerry was good at his job. We talked about medication, but I was able to manage it with some self-hypnosis tricks I learned online and tools he taught me to center myself back into my body and into the present moment. I should have stopped seeing him then, once my panic was under control," I say.
Elijah's hand tightens around mine and Sebastian squeezes my shoulder in support.
"But things were so hard. I was constantly cutting my hours to the point that I had to take a leave of absence as Adam got worse. My bank account was drained, but the bills weren't slowing. I thought having someone to talk to would be helpful. He took advantage of that. I see that now. He preyed on my vulnerability and need for someone—anyone—to step in and help bear some of the load I was carrying. It started innocently enough. A run-in at the coffee shop which lead to lunch at the cafe next door, which led to another plan for dinner the following week. Slowly it built, until I was convinced everything I was feeling was real and that I'd found my prince charming. Then it turned dark."
I suck in a breath, take a sip of orange juice, and continue. "He would lash out at the smallest things, then apologize and make it up to me with lavish gifts he couldn't afford. Then the money stress would create another cycle of abuse. He'd choke me, belittle me, twist my fingers until they almost broke. He never full on hit me though. So I didn't think it was abuse. At least, at first."
There's a low growl emanating from Sebastian, and Derek and Liam return, but I continue.
"But Adam walked in once when…when we were fighting, and he lost his shit over what was happening. Nearly beat Jerry to death. He ended up in the hospital with stitches—Jerry, not my brother—and I cut him from life from that point on. When Adam died, I almost caved and called him back. I was so lonely and Adam had been my only real friend. But I resisted, knowing Adam would have been so pissed if I'd done that. But now Jerry won't leave me alone. Though the solution is easy enough at this point."
I surprise them all by standing and tossing my phone to the floor, then stomping it with my feet. I expect a dramatic spraying of glass and metal as the phone explodes, but I'm disappointed. Nothing happens. Not even a crack.
"Seriously?" I ask, picking it up and examining it. "I dropped my last phone on my bed and it sustained more damage than this."
Liam holds out his hand. "May I?" he asks.
I hand it to him, and to my utter shock and astonishment, his hand lights on fire, flames peeling out from his palm and engulfing the phone in dancing golden flames. The phone melts in his hand, and he drops it onto the table and takes a napkin to wipe his palm.
I'm staring bug-eyed at Liam, but no one else seems phased. "This is something you can do? Shoot fire out of your hand?"
Liam glances up at me, but it's not him who answers. In fact, it's not any of the Night brothers. It's Dracula himself, but today he's dressed in jeans and a band t-shirt and I do a double take because it's so incongruous with his appearance yesterday that I can scarcely picture him as the same man.
Dracula steals the room with just his entrance. His voice commands attention. “Have they not told you? They always were too modest with their gifts.”
He walks closer to me, delicately sniffing the air as he does. I nervously wonder if I remembered deodorant. And then I wonder why I care what this prick thinks. And then I go back to being nervous. This is exhausting.
But I won’t be baited. Not by him. I don’t give him the satisfaction of asking what he means. He laid the trap, but I won’t walk into it. I long ago learned the value of silence.
I keep my mouth shut and I wait.
After several moments during which I have to frequently give a gentle shake of a head to warn one of the brothers away from breaking the silence first, Dracula raises an eyebrow and continues. “You’re quite a treasure,” he says, with a gleam in his eye that makes me uncomfortable.
“An often underestimated one,” I say, deliberately catching the gaze of each of the brothers.
“Quite so,” Dracula says. “Very well, then. The Night brothers are not just ordinary vampires. No. There is nothing about this clan that is ordinary.”
Liam growls under his throat, his muscles contracting and his stance shifting to attack mode. Elijah lays a hand on his brother’s shoulder and leans to whisper something in his ear. This seems to take Liam’s rage down a notch or two, which eases some of the tension for everyone. But it’s clear that the brothers do not want Dracula to tell me whatever he’s going to tell me.
It’s equally clear Dracula doesn’t give a shit and is going to tell me anyway.
So I wait.
“The Night brothers,” he continues, his long, elegant finger raised to rest contemplatively against his chin, “were once Sacred Druids of the Holy Order, a secret sect devoted to the higher calling of the gods of nature. But they were banished from the Order and cursed with the Unforgivable Curse. They were each branded with the darkest, most evil aspects of the elements they held in such reverence - earth, air, fire and water - dooming them to a life of pain and hurting all those they had sworn soul vows to help. The inner conflict of their new demons drove them mad!”
Sebastian flinches at his words, his hands clenched to his sides.
“They made a suicide pact and did what they could to end their lives. I found them just before the last vestiges of life had left their bodies. I saved them. Turned them. Made them practically immortal, though they could still be killed under the right circumstances. I didn’t want them falling to their basest instincts and attempting self-destruction again, so I compelled them to never attempt anything that could lead to suicide or imminent and foreseeable death. I compelled them to live.”
Derek glances away, his shoulders slumped. Liam refuses to make eye contact with anyone. Elijah is studying a book in his lap, though I suspect he isn't actually reading it.
Only Sebastian looks me in the eyes, with a small nod of the head. He wants me to know the truth. He doesn’t want to hide from me anymore.
The implications of what he’s said settle into me in layers. The first is that they are under constant compulsion, which to my understanding is a drain on everyone. I can’t imagine having a compulsion running 24/7 for like, ever. That’s gotta create some serious baggage.
Second, that the brothers are magical ancient Druids. So they have magic. Maybe not all they possessed before, but something.
And Dracula collected them like dolls and ordered them to stay alive even when their lives had turned into their worst nightmares day in and day out.
What pain must th
ey be in? And how long have they endured this?
In a flash, their personalities come into focus, and I can see the wounds hidden beneath the anger in Liam, the stubbornness in Sebastian, the stoic intellectualism in Elijah, and the flirtatious charisma of Derek.
They each carry their sorrows in their own way.
And I wonder if part of my job is to help lighten those sorrows.
If only I understood how.
The Impaler
Look at how a single candle can both defy and define the darkness. ~ Anne Frank
The atmosphere is uncomfortable in the dining room as Dracula finishes outing the brothers and their secret past.
I'm wrapping my mind around the Druid part. If they each represent an element, then Liam is obviously fire. I study the other three, wondering what they each are. My eyes land on Sebastian and I flash to the drawing I did of him when we first met, with a mountain range behind him. He must be earth, with his stubbornness and inflexibility. And Elijah is the thinker, the intellectual, full of ideas…that would make him air. Which leaves water for Derek. I wonder how those all manifest negatively. With fire and earth it's easy enough to see, but water and air? I'll have to pay more attention to the four of them. As if my thoughts aren't entirely consumed by them already.
Derek clears his throat and walks to the entrance of the dining room. "Shall we all retire to the library where we can discuss the case and get started? The trial will be starting soon. We need to be ready."
We all quietly shuffle out the door and follow Derek to the library. That's when Moon wakes up and begins meowing in my pocket. Everyone turns to stare at me.
"Are you aware that your sweater is meowing?" Elijah asks.
"Yes, uh, about that." I pull out the kitten, who hisses at the brothers fiercely. "I rescued him yesterday from the Moonweed bush. I'm keeping him."
I stare at each of them, daring them to challenge me.
I Am the Wild (The Night Firm Book 1) Page 9
