by Lana Melyan
The Return
The Eternity Road book 2
Lana Melyan
© 2018 Lana Melyan
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual locales, organizations, events, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Created with Vellum
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
1
“Oh God, Craig,” she whispered into his ear, hugging him tighter.
“Eleanor.” Craig breathed out. “It’s you . . . it’s . . .” His voice broke. It was her, his Eleanor. He was holding her in his arms, feeling the warmth of her body, and it wasn’t just one of those dreams he’d been having for the past century and a half. It was real. “Are you all right? Do you remember?”
“I do.” She let go of him. “It’s coming back.” Her eyes teared up as she said it.
Craig wanted to comfort her. He tried to remember all he had thought he would say to her. Things which were supposed to sustain her, help her through this surreal transformation. But he couldn’t remember any of them now.
The reason for his sudden muteness was probably imprinted on his face, because Eleanor smiled weakly and said, “Craig, I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, wiping a single tear from her cheek with his thumb.
“Yeah.” Eleanor nodded, then looked away. She walked to the open balcony door, pushed aside the swaying lace curtain, and stepped out.
Craig waited for a moment before following her. He had spent so many years trying to imagine what she’d feel the moment she realized she was back, the moment she saw him. Suddenly, this one thought blocked all the others. It was a question, which had never occurred to him before––would he be the same Craig to her?
The orange glow radiating from the tip of the rising sun looked like a beacon fire behind the foaming waves.
“We are in the castle,” she said.
She was in shock, he could tell.
“Yes.”
“How long was I asleep?”
Her voice grew distant with every word.
“Only a night.”
“Only a night? Why?”
“Samson said that it wouldn’t take long. The Book recognized you, so you didn’t have to go through all this . . . I mean, it recognized your soul, it just needed to restore your immortality and give your powers back.”
“Samson,” she muttered. “Is he here too?”
“Yes. They’re all here. Can I let them know?”
She considered for a moment, then nodded.
“Samson,” Craig said into nowhere. But wherever Samson was at the moment, he would hear Craig. As the Keeper of the Book, Samson had the special power to speak to Hunters at a distance. He could speak to each of them individually or to all at once.
“Yes,” replied Samson, and only Craig could hear his voice.
“She is awake.”
There was a moment of silence.
“If she is ready . . . we’ll be in the great living room,” said Samson.
“They are waiting,” Craig said to Eleanor, “Whenever you are . . .” but he stopped. All of them supposed that she’d be confused, and Samson had warned him that it wouldn’t be easy, but he couldn’t bear her not looking at him. “Eleanor,” he called. She turned around. “Eleanor, I missed you so much.”
She stepped closer and took his hand.
“I missed you too,” she said, but her brown eyes didn’t express anything. She closed them and kissed him, a short kiss. “Let’s go. I want to see them.”
But when she opened the door, she stopped. Her lower lip trembled as she looked back at
Craig.
Before he could say anything, she ran out of the room. He ran after her, but when Craig saw her silhouette flash into the hallway, down the stairs, and slip out of the castle door, he didn’t follow. He felt stupid and selfish; he shouldn’t have tried to discern if she still cared for him before she even knew who she was. The fact that he had finally gotten her back had fogged his mind, and for a second he forgot she was the one with millions of questions.
Craig went to the hall and sat on the stairs facing the castle's front door. She needed some space, and he’d give her as much time as she needed, wait as long as it took, but he wanted to be there for her when she came back.
She kneeled on the grass under one of the trees behind the castle.
When she woke up in the bedroom, she had realized that she was Eleanor from one flash in her memory. She remembered the church. She remembered running down the altar stairs with the Book in her hands, Fray’s wild scream, the last, desperate look at Craig’s face, and the iron teeth, like arrows, coming out from the Book’s clasps, piercing her hands.
Now, the recollections of her previous life rushed in, flooding her with emotions. Her mind gave her a tour into her past, and scenes, one after another, flickered like a movie put in quick reverse. Her last kiss with Craig in the barn. Her conversation with Samson, when he told her that she was the one who had to close the Book. Gabriella’s funeral. Hanna’s wide eyes fixed upon Gabriella's body, lying on the floor covered in broken glass, and the ball in Paris. The hunts. Her whole happy life with Craig. And then further and deeper into her past, or rather––the beginning. Waking up in the castle as a Hunter. Giving birth to Margaret. The lodge and her first kiss with Craig. The day she met Craig and watched him fight the werewolf. Her husband, Richard. Her previous mother and father.
This last memory abruptly snapped her back to reality. Lindsey. She shook her head. How was she going to explain to him that she was not the daughter he raised, that another person lived inside her? She felt the warmth of the blood rushing through her veins, the strength filling up her body. She couldn’t hide it from him. Sooner or later he’d realize something wasn’t right. Not because she’d never get sick, but because one day he’d notice she was not aging. She’d always look like the Amanda that turned eighteen a week ago.
She remembered her birthday cake and the wish she’d made when she blew out the candles. She’d wished that Craig would finally notice her. No, she’d never be that careless girl, whose biggest problem was her unrequited love, again. Empty houses in her dreams wouldn’t scare her anymore.
She remembered the old, dilapidated house, the fountain with the statue of a baby cherub, and her eyes prickled. That had been her house! Eleanor couldn’t believe it was still there. And the Book. It was there, too, in the library. Why?
She looked up at the clear sky, then at the grass, covered with morning dew. She turned her gaze to the small wooden bridge leading to Gabriella’s garden. Everything was so well maintained that it looked almost the same, except the trees, which were much taller now.
Pain cramped her chest. More than a
hundred and sixty years stood between Eleanor and Amanda. Those years were a big sacrifice, not just for her, but for all of them. Had it worked? She was certain that the vampires Fray turned hadn’t woken up. But now, with the Book open, they sure would. Had Samson found a way to prevent it? She stood up, brushed off the pieces of grass from her dew-soaked jeans, and headed back to the castle.
The sun was rising, and the yellow light from the lamp on Samson’s desk faded more and more with each minute. The rays of sunshine hadn’t reached the window yet, and as he turned the lamp off, the room dimmed.
Samson had spent the night writing down the latest events in his journal–– how the Book was opened, Melinda’s death, Eleanor’s return. He had never kept a journal before. But after they started looking for those turned by Fray and now transitioning vampires, looking for the Book and the daggers Fray had stolen all those years ago, it seemed important to Samson to keep a record of all their efforts.
He heard footsteps in the hallway. The door opened, and Hanna walked in.
“Eleanor . . . she ran out,” said Hanna, worried.
“I know,” said Samson. He glanced at her slumped shoulders, at her weary face after the restless night, and stood up. “Come here,” he said, pulling her into his arms.
“Do you think she’ll be okay?” asked Hanna, resting her head on his chest.
“I am sure of it. She just needs some time.” Samson stroked her dark blonde curls collected in a low ponytail. “You waited so long for this day. You should be glowing now.”
“I am happy.” She pulled back and looked up at Samson. “But . . . it was her, Eleanor, next to me for three years. And now, when I think back . . .” There was a note of horror in her low voice as she said, “I almost lost her. Twice.”
Samson knew what Hanna meant. A few days ago, vampires had grabbed her and Amanda right in front of their house. They were saved by Riley, who showed up at the last minute. The second time was the previous night, when Amanda ran away with Alec. Alec spared Amanda, but if the Hunters hadn’t found her in time, Fray would have killed her himself.
“Your panic attack is a little belated,” Samson smiled. “Besides, it wasn’t an easy task,
and you did a great job. She is here, isn’t she?”
“Right.” Hanna sighed. “You know what? Now that I’ve said it to you, I feel better.” She stood on her toes to reach his face and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.”
“Hanna,” Samson called as she headed to the door. Hanna turned around. “I wanted to ask you about Kimberly. What do you think we should do about her?”
“Nothing. She’s my friend, and I trust her.” Hanna grinned. “And I think you’re asking the wrong person. You should ask Ruben.”
“I’m asking you because Ruben was always . . .” Samson hesitated. “He never brought anyone to the castle before. Do you think this might be serious?”
“I think it is,” said Hanna softly. “I think he is in love.”
Ruben had been alone for such a long time. Samson hoped it was true, that he’d found the one he was looking for.
As Hanna walked out, Samson went back to his desk and sat down. He picked up a picture in a small wooden frame. Behind its glass, Gabriella looked at him with her black eyes full of love. From the moment he’d met her, he couldn’t imagine a day without that look.
He wasn’t the only one who’d lost the love of his life. He’d watched Craig endure his pain all those years, and all those years Samson had to live with the fact that he was the one who signed Eleanor’s death sentence.
Today was a big day. Eleanor had returned, and the Book was open. This meant that it was time to get back everything Samson had lost.
Everything, except her. He’d never be able to bring back Gabriella. She was gone forever. She was the light of his life, and nothing could live without light. All he could do was make sure no one in his family ever suffered such loss. His plan was ready, and he had to make it work, no matter what.
2
Eleanor walked into the living room holding Craig’s hand. Everybody stood up. Seven pairs of eyes were fixed on her. She didn't look at anyone but Samson.
“Hello, Eleanor,” said Samson.
She knew that Samson couldn’t change, that it would be the same Samson only with different, modern clothes. But she didn’t expect that the pain she left him with would still be there, too. After all those years, even in this very significant moment, which he had been waiting for more than one and a half centuries, his eyes were still extinguished. It made him look older.
“I am sorry,” he said, “Your return took much longer than I anticipated.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” said Eleanor. “You never said that it’d be quick and harmless. I remember what I signed up for.” The sound of her voice surprised her. It wasn’t Amanda speaking. Her voice was firm. It didn’t belong to that easily blushing girl she was yesterday. Eleanor’s strong, confident consciousness was taking over. “I suppose it was a lot worse for you all. Waiting is much more difficult. I hope that my death, and what you had to go through, wasn’t for nothing. Is the Book safe?”
There was a profound silence.
“No,” Samson said finally.
“What?” She turned to Craig. “But it was there, in the library. And you had your powers back.” She looked at Riley, then at Ruben, then at Hanna and Ned. “What happened?” Something drew her attention back to Ruben, something that seemed to be out of place. “Kimberly, what are you doing here?”
Taken aback, Kimberly shrugged childishly and looked up at Ruben, standing beside her.
“She knows,” said Ruben, “She was there when everything happened. When you opened the Book, remember? After that, Fray showed up with his bloodsuckers . . .”
At those words, Kimberly’s face changed. She looked back at Eleanor like a wounded dog.
“Oh, God, Kimberly,” Eleanor rushed to her. “Are you all right?” she asked, pulling her into a hug.
“I don’t know yet,” Kimberly whispered into her ear. “So much happened.”
“Did you get hurt?” Eleanor asked, pulling back.
“No, no. I was in that room with you. Those vampires, they couldn’t get in there.”
“Wait. Alec, he was there, too. Where is he? Is he okay?” She turned
to Hanna.
Hanna glanced at Samson, then at Craig, then at Eleanor again.
“He is okay,” she said.
“For now,” said Riley. “He got out in time, or I would have killed him myself.”
“What?” Eleanor said, snapping her gaze back to him.
“Melinda sealed the library so that vampires couldn’t get inside,” said Riley. “We left him and Kimberly there with you and the Book, to keep all of you safe, then we kicked Fray and his leeches out of the house.”
“So they didn’t take the Book. Then who . . . you mean . . . Alec? Why would he do that?”
But then it hit her. She remembered the picture of the house, and she realised that Alec having it wasn’t a coincidence. A moment ago, she was feeling guilty for dragging him to that place. But now it was clear she didn’t bring him to that house –– he brought her there. Everything had been planned. She’d done exactly what Fray expected her to do.
“It’s all because of me,” she murmured. “It’s my fault the Book is gone.”
“Eleanor, nobody blames you,” said Samson.
“You had no idea what was going on,” said Craig. “You were just trying to protect us.”
She took a deep breath. “So, what are we going to do? What’s the plan?”
“There’s something we need to do this afternoon. Then, Craig and I are leaving tonight,” said Samson.
“Tonight?” She turned to Craig with a disconcerted look.
Craig nodded. “We have to.”
“I’m sorry for taking him away, Eleanor, but it has to be Craig,” said Samson.
“This sounds too familiar.” She stared at him.
“Just promise you’ll bring him back alive.”
“I promise. You have nothing to worry about,” said Samson. “Now, you better rest. You need some time to get back to reality.”
Eleanor nodded. Samson was right, she was still so confused.
She looked at Kimberly, the only reminder of Amanda’s life, the connection to the mortal world which seemed so different now. The castle was her home, but there was another home in Green Hill, which she loved, too. The thought of Lindsey filled her with longing. She loved him, and she didn’t want to hurt him. She would have to go back and pretend to be a normal teenager, at least for a while, for her father’s sake.
She glanced around, and her eyes stopped at Hanna. Eleanor suddenly remembered the first time she saw her, the look on her face when Eleanor held out her hand to her at school. Hanna’s look lingered on her like she was expecting some sign of recognition.
“You were with me for three years, and I never noticed. . . . How did you do that?” she asked.
“It wasn’t that difficult, since I didn’t have my powers,” said Hanna softly. “Now we have to be more careful.”
Eleanor looked at Ruben. And then at Craig. “I am so sorry. All I put you two through. . .” She laid her hand on Craig’s chest. Now she knew why his shirt was ripped and covered with blood. He had been stabbed in the heart.
“It was nothing,” he said, putting his arms around her. “You’re back; that’s all that matters.”
“And Melinda.” She turned around. “She must be so angry with me for running away like that.” She smiled guiltily.
But nobody smiled back.
“Judging by the looks on your faces, she really is. Where is she? Did she go home?”
