“What’s up?” I asked, looking at the ground.
“I wanted to apologize for the snake thing earlier,” he replied, his voice going down a notch. “I know that the Destroyers are nothing like that—I shouldn’t have made light of it. Sorry.”
“What?” I replied, genuinely aghast. “I really wasn’t offended—it was just a joke. I’d forgotten that had even happened.”
“Yeah, it was a long time ago,” he replied. When I glanced up at him, I could see that his hand was resting on the back of his neck, a sign that he felt awkward. I had actually been referring to the joke, not the original event with the snake, which, come to think of it, I was kind of amazed that he could remember something so irrelevant that far back.
“You have a good memory,” I replied, clearing my throat.
“Yeah.”
He sighed a moment later. “Maura panicked as well. She made me check under the bed and in all the wardrobes. You weren’t alone.”
Of course he remembered because of Maura—idiot.
“Right,” I replied, suddenly wishing for the conversation to end. I wasn’t sure if he was bringing up Maura because he wanted to talk about it—but why would he speak to me anyway? I remembered that no one was supposed to know they had broken up. Serena had told me that she’d overheard the conversation. It would be inappropriate and downright weird for me to say anything.
“Are you okay though, after the visions?” he asked, unexpectedly turning to stare at me.
“Um, yeah,” I replied, kind of dazed. I wasn’t used to having Field’s full attention. I looked toward the house, hoping that someone would emerge from it—I was even willing for it to be the Druid or Bijarki. A conversation with them would be less awkward for me than this one.
“It sounded intense, the torture vision,” he clarified. “I wouldn’t want you—any of you—to think that you couldn’t talk about it, share the burden. It must be tough, seeing someone else’s pain that way. Knowing you can’t do anything to help.”
I nodded. Field had hit the nail on the head. That had been the most difficult thing with both the incubus and the tortured Druid. How helpless I’d felt just watching, knowing that we were the cause of both those incidents, in a way. If Draven didn’t insist on keeping us hidden here, perhaps we’d be able to provide the remaining incubi with hope, and if the Destroyers knew where we were, they wouldn’t be torturing someone for the information.
“I was terrified. Even if I hadn’t just been watching, and unable to do anything, I doubt that I would have been brave enough to stop it. You hear all these stories about our parents doing these amazing things, sacrificing themselves to help a loved one or an innocent…but if it came down to it”—I hesitated—“I don’t know if I could do what they’ve done.”
“You don’t know that,” Field replied softly. “No one knows what they’re capable of until it actually happens. And our parents have made mistakes. We all do, it’s part of being human.” He smiled then, correcting himself. “Well, supernatural, but still human on the inside, despite our abilities.”
“I guess,” I replied, not entirely convinced. I thought that deep down you always knew what you were capable of—what kind of person you were. I knew that I could act tough, and train with the rest of GASP’s members with confidence, not afraid of a few bruises or on one occasion, thanks to Phoenix, a cracked rib, but I didn’t seem to have that steely metal inside me that I saw in my dad, my mom, my kickass grandparents Vivienne and Xavier, Tejus, Derek, Sofia, Ben, Rose…the list went on.
Jovi appeared from the smashed doorway of the greenhouse and made his way across the garden. His hair was slicked back and wet—he’d obviously just had a shower, and I suddenly found myself longing for cold jets of water and some fresh clothes. The first was thankfully possible—the latter not so much.
“You’re going to get burnt, Aida,” he said as he approached. My skin wasn’t as naturally tan as Jovi’s, so I was more susceptible to being burnt.
“I was in the shade,” I replied, pushing my fingers into my arm to see if I’d caught the sun. They left marks. Oops. Perhaps I had overstayed my welcome out here. I wondered if Draven would have some kind of herb around, like lavender, that Vita could turn into a paste for me.
Field rose to his feet, offering an arm to help me up. Trying not to blush, I took it, allowing him to pull me up, but making sure that he didn’t have to take my full body weight.
Get a grip, girl.
I really needed to start having some stern words with myself about my general levels of confidence around guys. It was fine when I was going through puberty, it was kind of the norm, but now it was just getting ridiculous.
As my hand came into contact with Field’s, my whole body felt like it had been electrified. I dropped it as instantly as I stood up, surreptitiously rubbing my palm on my sweatpants to try to shake the feeling away.
“I was thinking we should continue our training sessions while we’re here,” Jovi was saying to Field. “At some point, hopefully sooner rather than later, we’re going to leave this house—and I want us to be ready for whatever we face when we do.”
“Good point,” Field agreed, glancing over at me. “We should all do it. Oracles included.”
“Of course,” I replied, privately wondering how I would have the energy. The visions had taken a lot out of me—not just physically, but mentally too. I only hoped they would get easier as time went on.
“See you both later,” I added, moving toward the house. I’d had enough of weird feelings for one day—first the visions and now with Field. I was done in. I didn’t want to feel anything, and the only way to accomplish that in this place would be to take the world’s longest nap.
Serena
After speaking with my brother, I went back upstairs to read more of Elissa’s diary. The house was still and quiet, but I could hear the muffled conversation of Aida, Jovi, and Field outside. I looked in our room, checking to see if Vita was okay, thinking it would be a good time to talk about Bijarki, but she was fast asleep. I let her rest. After what the three of them had been through today, I wasn’t surprised that she was exhausted.
I grabbed the diary from the night-stand, and went through to the spare room where I’d originally found it. It felt right to be reading it in what I assumed had been the Oracle’s bedroom, surrounded by her things, able to get a better sense of her not just as an Oracle but as any other woman—with hopes, dreams and, clearly, a developing relationship with Draven’s father.
I opened up the diary where I’d left off, settling myself onto the musty bed. The entry was a few weeks after the last—the Oracle clearly wasn’t a regular writer, but perhaps that was a good thing, as long as she had documented what was important.
I had a vision today. It was beautiful. I never wanted it to end. It was of the three of us, Almus and Draven and I, traveling to the eastern city. Draven was much older, in his twenties, I suppose, and we journeyed through the land without fear of Azazel and his Destroyers.
How such an existence became possible, I do not know, but I saw it, so somehow it is a future that could be brought into being. With all my heart, I hope it is how my story unfolds, but I worry that it will not end this way. Tonight, at dinner, Almus spoke of rumors of the Destroyers laying siege to the western citadel. The Druids there have so far been the only ones to hold out against Azazel’s rule, but Almus suspects that soon they will fold.
After dinner, Almus escorted me to my room and bade me goodnight. He hesitated—I am sure of it—at the door, but then did nothing but give me a chaste kiss on the cheek. Still, it was enough to make my insides melt. How embarrassed I am about the feelings I have for him! Why on earth would he wish to begin a relationship with me? I am only a woman in looks, not in physical function. If I can’t bear him a child, then what good am I?
I stopped reading, realizing that the Oracle was referring to her reproductive organs—something those twins hadn’t had, though I wasn’t sure about
the Nevertide Oracle. No one in my family had mentioned anything about it, and I hadn’t taken much interest. But I had known that Oracles never reproduced…perhaps that was why she’d passed on her gift to my friends and brother. I wondered if she had wanted to leave a part of herself in this world, something that would continue after her eventual death.
I felt sorry for Elissa. It must have been hard to fall in love with a man, knowing that it would be impossible for it to be a real relationship, in the biblical sense of the word. I returned to the diary, skim-reading the next few pages. They were mainly observations about the house, the changing seasons and what she did to occupy her time—mainly reading old history books, sewing and trying to overcome her growing distaste for eating the same food, day in, day out. I could relate to that.
The next entry was about a year apart from the last. The writing was more frantic, the letters spiked and ink blots staining the page.
I had an argument with Almus. He wants to join the rebel forces that are rising up against Azazel. It’s a huge mistake. I’ve been having visions of the bloody battle for weeks, but without seeing its conclusion. I can’t be sure that Almus will survive it, and so I am opposed. He tells me he wants a better life for both me and Draven, not stuck in this house forever, but if we were to stay here forever, as long as the three of us were together, I would be happy.
I put the diary down. It made interesting reading, but I desperately wanted to know how the Oracle had avoided blindness, and so far, that hadn’t been mentioned, nor any real information on the side-effects of her visions. I also knew the end of the tale—Almus had died protecting the next Oracle who came to visit them—the Nevertide Oracle, whose real name I still didn’t know. If he did go and fight in the battle against Azazel before that, he had clearly survived. I wondered if it would be easier speaking to Draven about the battle, and how the Oracle overcame some of her difficulties. He was willing to help with the training, and so I didn’t see why he’d have a problem with divulging some of Elissa’s secrets.
I left the room, careful to replace the diary in the drawer first.
Still hearing the murmurs of conversation floating from the rooms’ open windows as I strode purposefully along the corridor and then descended the staircase, I hesitated before going to hunt for the Druid. I would have preferred to spend some time with my friends, to put the mysteries aside for a moment, and pretend that everything was normal for a few hours.
It was Draven himself who stopped me. As I reached the ground floor, making my way toward the greenhouse, he emerged from his room, hair sleep-rumpled and his clothes disheveled.
“Can I help you?” he asked, yawning.
Instantly, I was put in a bad mood. It hardly seemed like the right time for a nap. Rationally I knew it was the heat that was making everyone drowsy, including myself, but I felt that the Druid, as our sole protector here, should be putting a bit more effort into helping us—making plans as to what we might do next.
“Did I wake you?” I asked, sarcasm coloring my tone. He raised an eyebrow, a smirk appearing on his irritatingly handsome features. He looked lazy and mocking, and I couldn’t help thinking of the last time I’d seen him in bed, peaceful and serene, with his tanned muscular torso looking pale in the moonlight.
“I had some questions,” I continued hastily, shoving the thoughts aside and getting down to business. “About the Oracle my brother saw living here. When and how did she recover from her blindness?”
“I was not there to witness it, but Elissa regained her sight when she, along with the house, was moved by the Daughters from Earth to Eritopia to create a sanctuary—”
“Whoa, the Daughters moved this entire house from Earth?” I interrupted. That would explain a lot.
“Indeed,” Draven replied. “Elissa had fled to Earth to escape Azazel a couple of hundred years ago, around the time he began capturing Oracles. She cast a spell over herself like a mask so she could hide the shadows on her skin, and took up residence on a plantation where she worked as a servant.”
To my annoyance, he paused. “Please, go on,” I pressed.
He sighed. “My father at the time, being acutely opposed to Azazel and needing to do everything he could to stop him collecting more Oracles, managed to track down Elissa’s location and convince the Daughters to help create a sanctuary. They scooped up the whole house and planted it here—after expelling the human residents…”
“Expelling the humans?” I couldn’t help but interject.
Draven shrugged.
“You saw no reason to ask the Daughters, I guess,” I mumbled.
“Of course my father didn’t. Asking them questions is always a mistake—the wrong one angers them, and the right one doesn’t gain you much of an answer.”
I frowned. From where I was standing, it seemed like these Daughters had been pretty generous—helping protect Elissa from Azazel, along with the Druid and his father, and giving her the gift of sight. I wasn’t sure why the Druid spoke about them in such negative terms.
“They don’t seem that bad,” I muttered.
“Because you haven’t met them,” he countered. “Why do you insist on disagreeing with everything that I tell you? I’m not lying, Serena. I’m telling you this for your own good—the Daughters, should you ever come across them, are…difficult, to say the least.”
“It’s not that I disagree,” I replied heatedly, “It’s just that you don’t tell us anything—or so little that we’re always in the dark, and it feels like you do it on purpose.”
“That’s not the case,” Draven replied, far calmer than I was. He reached up, absent-mindedly ruffling the back of his hair. “There’s so much about this land—about Eritopia, Azazel, everything—that you don’t understand, that you couldn’t hope to understand. I’m trying to make this as easy on you as I can.”
I clenched my jaw in frustration. Every time I thought we were making a bit of a breakthrough in understanding, the answers were instantly blocked off. We had the future and the past to contend with as well, thanks to the visions and the diary, which seemed to make everything more complicated—not clearer, as I had hoped.
“Can you tell me what happened to Elissa, the Oracle?” I asked, folding my arms.
“It’s a long story.” He sighed.
“I’ve got the time.”
“I haven’t. And it’s not something I wish to discuss.”
His face darkened suddenly, his eyes dimming. Perhaps I was overstepping the mark by demanding answers on Elissa. From what I had read, and from Phoenix’s description of the cozy family life they’d led, at least temporarily, it sounded like for all intents and purposes, Elissa had been a mother figure to the Druid. I suspected that it might have been painful for him to discuss her, and, unless I wanted to invoke his anger, it was probably better to stay silent on the subject—at least for now.
“Fine,” I retorted, backing away from him, moving toward the greenhouse.
“There was one thing,” Draven replied before I left. “Clothing. I noticed you could all use extra items—there should be some upstairs in the attic from the previous owners. You can access it through the hallway opposite the werewolf’s room.”
“Oh, okay. Thanks.”
I was taken aback by the offer. It seemed such a human thing to suggest—and considerate. I doubted there would be much up there that hadn’t been eaten by moths and disintegrated, but the offer was kind nevertheless.
“I’ll tell the others,” I added.
“And you can start calling me by my name, Draven. I’ve heard some of you still referring to me as ‘the Druid’, which I’ve begun to find mildly irritating.”
I wanted to laugh at that—he’d just this second referred to Jovi as ‘the werewolf.’
“Okay,” I replied, “Draven. And the werewolf’s Jovi, by the way.”
“I know.”
I shrugged, leaving him standing in the hallway. So, it looked like we were on first-name terms now…I wondered
if that was the way to get the answers we needed: to start treating the Druid—Draven, I corrected—as a friend and ally, rather than our enemy. He didn’t exactly make it easy by being so shut off every waking hour, but with a little time, and a little patience, perhaps we could wear him down.
Vita
I had slept for ages, and when I woke up it was dusk outside. Aida was fast asleep next to me in the bed, her limbs sprawled out across the mattress. I felt groggy, in need of cold water and yet another shower. I wondered where Serena was, but figured she’d be off somewhere reading the diary or with Jovi and the rest of the boys.
Realizing I was starving thanks to a loud rumble coming from my stomach, I showered quickly and changed back into my pajamas. I decided to wake Aida. I didn’t want her to miss out on dinner, partly because she’d need it, and partly because all our lives would be a nightmare if she went without food, and she’d be the first to admit it.
“Aida?” I shook her awake.
“Eugh,” she groaned, wiping the sleep from her eyes. “What time is it?”
“Evening. Dinner time, hopefully.”
“I’m starving,” she replied, sitting upright on the bed and swiftly moving off to go and get herself freshened up. “Have you seen the others yet?” she asked at the bathroom doorway.
“No. I guess they’re downstairs somewhere. I’ll wait for you.”
“Thanks. I’ll be quick.”
She shut the door and I heard the sounds of the shower running. I stuck my head out of the window, enjoying the slightly cooler evening air on my face.
A couple of minutes later, we both headed downstairs, making a beeline for the dining room. Serena was hovering outside the doorway.
A Shade of Vampire 43: A House of Mysteries Page 7
