by Lana Sky
Dmitri scoffed, but I didn’t miss the step he took in my direction, widening the space between him and the person he was expressly forbidden from speaking to. There wasn’t far for him to go, considering we were in the foyer, marshaled together, a motley crew of four.
“Do either of you understand adventuring attire?” He gestured to his lime-green slacks and his white button-down. On his head, of all things, perched a straw hat. Tutting in exasperation, he turned to the figure waiting for me at the base of the staircase. “Dublin, will you stand for this?”
The vampire in question seemed to be far beyond giving a damn about clothing. Distant eyes flickered between awareness and emptiness. He’d been that way ever since I’d woken up. Locked within himself, venturing from the depths of his psyche only for seconds at a time.
Why?
I wasn’t brave enough to question it.
“It’s fine,” he muttered without looking my way. “Let’s get moving before you bring the whole damn village down on us.”
He left the drawing room. A second later, the front door slammed against what felt like the inner wall of the foyer.
“Well then.” After smoothing his shirt, Dmitri followed him.
I fell into step in his wake, sensing Yulia behind me. Together, we packed into one car driven by Dublin, who said nothing during the terse hours-long trip through fields and forest.
The forested, beautiful landscape felt like a different realm from the city I was used to. Another world entirely. Breathtaking, yes. But also unsettling. Dread came to life in my stomach, twisting. Twinging. I had to flatten my palm beneath my rib cage to ease the discomfort.
Despite all the bargains and deals Dublin had made for my safety, I knew without a doubt that we were far from Raphael’s territory. Could the old vampire’s influence stretch this far? Something told me it didn’t. Close-set foliage grazed the sides of the car as we drove through cramped roads, the sounds echoing almost like whispers.
No one can save you here…
“It will be a long trek,” Dmitri promised as we crested the ridge of a hillside cut deep within a dense cluster of trees. “These crones hide themselves well among these hills. Though I’m sure you’re prepared for any booby traps.” He looked at Dublin, who didn’t answer.
Eventually, the car came to a stop, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. As in Dublin didn’t park, the engine just stalled, jarring me forward so violently that I had to brace myself against the front seat.
“Stay here.” Dublin exited the vehicle, swiftly followed by Yulia and Dmitri.
Apparently, his command only applied to me.
With anxious glances at their surroundings, the trio continued up the road, led by Dublin. Only after two paces forward, they too abruptly stopped. Heart in my throat, I leaned forward and peered through the windshield to see why. At first, I saw nothing. Just swaying branches dripping with shadows and foliage. It was only on my second search that I saw her.
She stood, flanked by two sprawling trees, their gnarled branches twisted in her direction as if shielding her from sight. She was thin and fair. Hair so pale that it rivaled the hue of Dublin’s skin fell down her shoulders in wild, unbrushed waves. Given the color, I expected her age to be reflected in her face, but she looked even younger than I was. Just a girl standing alone in the woods, confronted by two vampires.
Dublin said something. His posture was neutral, his stance open. From this angle, I could only see his lips moving, deaf to whatever words were passing between him and the woman.
But I didn’t need to hear to notice the marked shift in tone when she shook her head and pointed to the car. To me.
Shivers racked my spine. The scrape of branches against the car’s roof became more pronounced. Less like whispers and more like distinct words. You…
You. You. You.
The wind picked up, tossing scattered raindrops across the windshield. What little daylight there was dissipated, leaving an eerie glow that drenched the landscape in indigo darkness. Only Dublin had any definition anymore, his hair shining like burnished gold.
All the while, the woman beyond the trees just stared, her finger still pointing.
And that whispering within my skull grew louder, transformed into a faint, childlike murmur. You. You. You must come alone…
My hand was on the handle of the door. Before I realized, I’d pushed it open. Wind and rain lashed at my skin, trying in vain to slow my progress. My flats sank into the damp earth as I stepped out onto the path. It was freezing. The thin fabric of my blouse felt glued to my skin in seconds, sliced through by a bone-numbing chill.
The noise caused by the burgeoning storm should have been deafening: swaying trees, echoing thunder. But all I heard was silence broken by a low, distant hum. Thump…thump…thump…
And a woman’s voice. “Only she can go any farther.”
She stood on an incline and in reality barely came to Dublin’s waist in height. Her hair hung down to her waist, mingling with the pale fabric of her thin shift. Grubby, bare toes melded with the earth and underbrush. Her delicate, small features formed no expression as her eyes cut in my direction.
“Just her,” she repeated, her thin voice easily overpowering the growled hiss of the man before her. “Only she can come any farther.”
“Then we’re done here.” Dublin’s voice slammed into the eerie stillness like a wrecking ball. Anger flashed through his gaze as he snatched for my wrist, pulling me after him.
Hauled to the car, I found myself shoved into the back seat and immediately flanked by Yulia and Dmitri. The door slammed and Dublin appeared behind the wheel a heartbeat later. When he wrenched the car into reverse, it roared to life amid the squeal of skidding tires, jolting down the hillside. I looked back, and through the screen of green and swaying branches, I still saw the woman standing unmoving. Just watching.
Waiting.
You will come alone. The whispered promise haunted me, even as the dense forest gave way to lush, open fields and a gray sky. Or she will come to you.
The moment we returned to the cottage, Dublin pressed a cell phone against his ear and snarled commands into the receiver. From the general gist, I sensed a narrative along the lines of: get the goddamn plane ready, and leaving as soon as we can.
“Well, that was disappointing,” Dmitri remarked on a sigh. He forlornly removed his straw hat, but even he seemed unusually on edge. “But I agree that a retreat is in our best interests. One never meets alone with witches, or so the saying goes.” He cleared his throat, glancing in Yulia’s direction. Then he promptly turned away. “Well, Dublin, I shall assist you in making the arrangements. As always, I do believe my jet will suffice perfectly...”
He simpered after Dublin.
“Eleanor,” Yulia called to me with a strained smile. “In the meantime, we can catch up.”
“Sure.” I nodded, lowering my voice as she came to my side. “And then you can tell me what’s really going on.”
She faltered and shot a nervous glance at Dublin. Thankfully, he was too busy issuing rapid-fire commands like a general to notice my attempts at subterfuge.
“As you wish. Come.”
I was hot on her heels as she entered the drawing room.
“Sit,” she called before disappearing through a doorway that I assumed led into the kitchen.
I sat, wringing my fingers. When she finally returned, she had a tray containing steaming tea in two cups.
“It’s a long story,” she warned as she settled onto a chair across from me. Her gaze cut to the doorway and she shuffled closer as Dublin’s shouting reached glass-shattering decibels.
“I think we have the time,” I said.
She nodded. “I do believe you’re right. Though perhaps I should apologize? I haven’t been the best company as of late.”
“I understand,” I admitted.
“Do you?” She laughed softly, shaking her head. “Even I don’t. It is strange how you can convince yourself
for years that you can overcome any obstacle. But the second something unexpected arises…” She snapped her fingers. “You crumble.”
“You don’t have to talk about this,” I said.
“In a way it ties to your own dilemma,” she said, tilting her head thoughtfully. “They claim that there once was a witch who fell in love with a vampire, though he loved another. Even so, she was foolish enough, selfish enough, to give him whatever he wished…”
“And what was that?” I croaked, sensing her pause was my cue to ask.
Her gaze turned wistful, “A child with his lover. A natural child. It sounds pretty melodramatic,” she admitted. “But love and devotion can be poisonous to your senses. While that witch perverted nature in her lust, I know of another who tried to kill one of the most powerful vampires in history by enchanting one of his tailored suits. Merely because her master commanded her to…”
Something in her pained tone made me suspect this other witch wasn’t some distant figure from her memory.
“You?” I whispered, hazarding a guess.
She nodded and averted her eyes to her teacup.
Which meant that the powerful vampire she tried to kill could only be…
“Dublin?” I asked out loud.
Her lips twisted into a tormented grimace. “Dublin. Looking back, I realize now that he—Dmitri—” She hunched over as if saying his name physically hurt her. “I know now that he was just trying to test me. He’d grown bored of me then, I think. Whether I succeeded or not didn’t matter to him. Just the fact that he could manipulate me into trying… I knew it was suicide, but Dublin…” She trailed off, her lips thoughtfully pursed. “Dublin didn’t kill me. I can only assume that he knew taking me from Dmitri’s control would punish him more. Be careful with him—” She reached out, grasping my hand in hers. “He may seem silly and harmless, but some fear him more than Raphael, or even Dublin. He likes to collect rare, talented creatures you see. Beautiful humans. Talented witches…” Her eyes roved down to where the table obscured the view of my stomach. “Anything or anyone gifted and unique. Don’t trust him. Alas, the past is in the past, isn’t it?”
She sighed and sipped from her tea. “Back to the topic at hand, the former witch’s name was Adara. She was rumored to be remarkably gifted. I never knew her, but we all heard of the twisted magic she worked in the service of Mero. When he took a human bride, she corrupted the very gift he despised to sow a new life: a mortal life.”
She stared off, her voice soft in awe. “But in return, she forever denied herself the possibility of death, as did Mero. Damned for eternity, they will never die, and trust me when I tell you that is not a fate anyone would desire. Even Raphael, as far gone in madness as he is, would shy away from such a bargain. The years change you with every passing decade. You become further adrift in a sea of numbness, losing contact with anything that may ground you.”
She stirred her tea rapidly, shaking her head. “Such is the price for daring to pervert nature beyond its bounds.” Her eyes met mine again, brimming with sadness. “But it is a price some men may pay, even in a reckless impulse, to save another.”
While taking a sip of my tea, I nearly choked. Dublin didn’t exactly tout the effects of vampirism, but to never die? And to think, the most reckless thing I’d ever done was sell my soul out of spite.
“And?” My throat felt painfully dry. I woodenly sipped more tea, but that only worsened the discomfort, not all of it physical. Shadows lingered on the horizon. An unshakeable chill prickled the back of my neck, patiently insistent. Don’t be so daft, Ellie. You know what she’s hinting at. What he’s done.
“It’s not that complicated, really.” Yulia lowered her gaze to her tea, continuing to stir it. “Dublin wants to find her because he—”
“Tomorrow.” Dublin himself appeared at the doorway and shot Yulia a pointed look, thus ending the impromptu teatime. “We’ll leave then.” This clearly wasn’t his ideal choice; he wanted to go now.
Quest for answers aside, I couldn’t shake the tense, suffocating pressure building on the air. Like a noose, it cinched my throat, tightening with every inch the remaining daylight retreated beneath the horizon.
While Dublin disappeared again, I retreated to my room and attempted to sleep. Attempted being the keyword. A storm crept in the moment I crawled beneath the sheets. Lightning flashed, illuminating the windows and casting the shadowed furniture into stark relief.
In a way, the chaos felt comforting. I couldn’t hear the whispers. Nothing but nature raging…
Childish Games
Dmitri’s private, climate-controlled jet felt ten times smaller with Dublin and Yulia on board. When we finally landed, I gulped at the fresh air, as relieved as the sole survivor of a grueling war. One fought with verbal jabs and biting sarcasm.
At the tarmac, Yulia went her own way in silence. Not long after, Dmitri retreated as well, slipping into a golden limo conveniently waiting nearby.
Dublin had also come prepared. Parked not far from the plane was a car I recognized as his. He drove silently, and we re-entered the city just as the midafternoon sun reached its peak. Of all places, we passed the park near the cathedral and I couldn’t resist.
“Could we take a walk? For a second?” I couldn’t suppress the longing in my voice. A walk. In peace. Among the sunlight and fresh air, devoid of shadow and secrets.
Dublin’s grip tightened over the steering wheel.
So I pulled out all stops and resorted to one weapon I sensed even the devil was susceptible to—shameless begging. “Please?”
Sighing, he relented and pulled over to the side of the road. “Five minutes.”
As we exited the car for the cultivated landscape of the park, I tilted my face into the sun, practically skipping beside him. For five glorious minutes, none of the danger surrounding us mattered. Just this. His presence. The easy silence between us, my hand in his.
I could pretend—for the briefest moment—that I was as carefree as I imagined Georgie used to be. Cherished, and wanted, and reckless in her happiness.
That was the terrifying, unnatural part of it all—I wanted happiness.
“The tumor,” I began, eyeing a glorious array of flowers dotting the field around us. “If it can’t be removed, then… We need to agree upon some course of action.”
Dublin stiffened, his jaw clenched as if to bite back a phrase I could guess as clearly as my own thoughts—Not this again. Please. I thought you were making progress.
But he didn’t mention as much out loud.
Not even as I came to a stop and hesitantly placed my hand against my belly. I felt nothing. Just flesh, and warmth, and skin. I closed my eyes, attempting to acknowledge some deep-down impulse for the first time.
I didn’t feel any magical maternal impulse, strong enough to erase days of dread and terror.
But I no longer felt that terror as strongly as before.
“If it was a girl, would that bother you?” I slowly peeled my eyes open to gauge his reaction.
He cocked his chin, his gaze shielded behind an impenetrable stare. “Yes,” he grated. “Yes, it would.” Gradually, his mouth twitched, lifting at the corner. Softly. Higher. A genuine smile, though cautious in width. “Another Eleanor Gray? The world is not ready for such a creature.”
“A boy would just conspire with you,” I pointed out smugly. “But a girl? She and I can plot all sorts of mischief and you will be none the wiser.”
“As long as it’s healthy… As long as you are healthy, I would take any specimen imaginable.” He looked so tired again. An ageless man, approaching my side, his hand outstretched for me.
I curled my fingers around his, marveling at the sensation of him. No fighting. No hating.
Tilting my head back, I eyed the sky, allowing him to steer me along in peaceful, beautiful silence.
But how reality loved to deny me. Within minutes, our haven was invaded and nothing could reclaim those cherished minutes.
“Eleanor.” Dublin tensed, yanking me against him.
I looked around, expecting assassins to lunge from the trees. Instead, I noticed a young girl dancing across the expansive lawn paces away.
Dressed in a flowing white frock, she was prancing with more energy than I ever could, darting around flower beds. Her features were delicate, her dark curls spilling down her shoulders. But her eyes…
They fixated on me as she approached and I shivered. A deep brown, they were as ageless as Raphael’s.
“I hear you’ve been looking for me,” she accused, wrinkling her nose at Dublin. Just beyond his reach, she stopped, her hands on her hips. A small strip of blue velvet encircled her throat, supporting a small silver charm that swayed against her pale skin. “Why? Do you think you can kill me, Cael? Torture me until I surrender to your bidding?” She giggled into a hand tipped with hot-pink fingernails. “Have you not learned your lesson after all these years? Maybe you will during the many more you have left to your debt? He’s been gloating, you do realize. He will never cease to own you.”
“Adara,” Dublin said tonelessly. Her name? Clearly, there was no love lost between them. He eyed her coldly, his eyes narrowed in disgust. “A rather unimaginative disguise, I must say.”
“You should try it sometime,” the girl countered, sticking out her tongue. She fingered the neckline of her dress. The white material formed a tight-fitting bodice that flared out over her waist—though at second glance it was mostly white. Three small scarlet drops stained the very center of the bodice. “Young ones are surprisingly nimble. I may keep this form for good—”
“Why show yourself now?” Dublin demanded. “I do admit your stunt in France was impressive.”
She giggled. “Those old biddies do love to give a good scare. And I’ve always loved a good game of hide-and-seek. Don’t you?” She twirled in a circle, eyeing the skirt of her dress as it billowed around her. “And you play with ruthless intent. So much so that you miss the most obvious moves your opponent may make.” Skidding to a stop, she met my gaze and winked. “So wonderful to meet you again, Eleanor. Oh, do you not recognize me?” She raised her arms, indicating her dress. “I do appreciate your very generous donation my dear girl.” Her voice deepened well beyond the range of a child’s. Into a man’s, one brimming with suave charm and undeniably familiar…
