Avenging Amethyst (Immortal Eyes)

by Price, Kaitlyn

  Avenging

  Amethyst

  KAITLYN PRICE

  Copyright © 2013 Kaitlyn Price

  Cover art © Renu Sharma | www.thedarkrayne.com

  All rights reserved.

  I would like to dedicate this book to my wonderful family and friends.

  Table of 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

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 1

  I froze in the doorway to my mom’s hospital room. A tall woman with long auburn hair stood above my mom’s bed. The woman looked at me, smiled cruelly and twisted my mom’s neck before I had a second to comprehend what happened. The cracking sound rang through my ears almost louder than the flat noise coming from the machines, signaling my mom’s heart had stopped.

  What happened next was such a blur that I’m surprised I remember it at all. The woman with the auburn hair disappeared into a cloud of smoke that escaped into one of the nearby vents. I stood frozen until I heard the little voice inside my head telling me to get out before anyone came to check on my mom. She had warned me that if anything strange happened to her, I needed to flee as quickly as possible.

  I ran out of the hospital, rushing to my car and speeding out of the parking lot so quickly that the nurses were probably just now getting to my mom’s room. What they would find would be as much of a shock to them as it was to me.

  Two days ago my mom was in a car crash that left her in a coma. According to the doctors, she was improving and her chances of making a full recovery were good. I didn’t know how they would be able to explain that she died from a broken neck.

  I didn’t let my emotions catch up to me until I pulled into the driveway of my house a few minutes later and shut my car off. That’s when the hysterical crying started. I couldn’t breathe and the tears flowed out of my eyes so fast they made a wet spot on my shirt. I laid my head against the steering wheel and let my emotions run rampant.

  I couldn’t believe what I had just witnessed, yet deep down, I had a feeling that it was going to happen. My mom and I had been on the run my entire life, never staying in the same area for more than a few months and never staying anywhere near busy cities, preferring the more secluded areas, like the countrysides in Nebraska, Kansas and Wyoming.

  When I was old enough to start asking questions, my mom would always give me the vaguest answer: They’re after us. They’ll always be after us. She never explained who ‘they’ were or what they wanted.

  A week ago on my eighteenth birthday, my mom gave me a key to wear around my neck. She told me that if there was a day when she wasn’t around that I would need it. The one thing she always brought with her, no matter where we went, was a small locked trunk. She never let me near it or explained what was inside but I knew that the key would open it.

  My instincts were telling me that I needed to grab my mom’s trunk and get out of town. I could feel that something was coming for me but I felt no desire to drag myself out of my car.

  My mom was dead. She was my only family and the only person I had ever been close to my entire life. Since we moved around so much, my mom home-schooled me. I never made any friends and I was barely allowed to talk to any of the neighbors we lived next to. My mom kept me closed off from most of the world and now I was completely alone. I didn’t even know if I had any other family, or if they would even know I existed.

  The tears still streamed down my face when I took a few deep breaths and forced myself out of my car. The bad feeling in my gut got stronger and I knew I needed to hurry. My mom always told me to trust my gut, even if it meant leaving her behind.

  I slowly walked up the steps to the front door, turned my key in the locked and saw something move out of the corner of my eye. My head shot in the direction of the movement, by a small group of trees that blocked us from our neighbors.

  It was dark out and I couldn’t see anything in the shadows. My head started to ache and I knew the threat was getting closer.

  I ran inside, shutting and locking the door behind me. I went to my room first, throwing some clothes in the backpack I always kept out and grabbing the few items I always kept with me. We didn’t have very many possessions. My mom knew we’d just have to leave most of our stuff behind every few months. The only items I always took were clothes and a few personal items. I wasn’t attached to anything else and could always buy new essentials.

  After I had all of my items in my backpack, I slung it over my shoulders and rushed to my mom’s room. She usually kept the trunk out of plain sight but there weren’t very many hiding places in our tiny house. I went straight to my mom’s closet, threw back the clothes she had hanging up and spotted the trunk tucked away in the corner.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat, trying not to think about how my mom wouldn’t be with me when I left town this time. I tried not to think about doing this all alone.

  I knelt on the ground, pulled the chain off of my neck that held the key and opened up the chest. I didn’t have the time to go through it completely but I had to at least open it.

  My eyes widened in shock, when I pulled the lid open. Dozens of thick stacks of hundred dollar bills sat on top of the secrets buried deep in the trunk. I knew my mom had to have money in order for us to move around so often, but I never knew how much. I hesitated just long enough to touch one of the stacks, needing to confirm they were real, before I slammed the trunk close again and locked it up.

  I took another deep breath, forcing myself not to cry and picked up the trunk. It wasn’t heavy but it was awkward to hold with it being wider than my arms could handle. I carried it out of the house, stumbling slightly down the steps and threw it into the seat next to me as I got in the car. I didn’t even bother to lock up the house. I knew I would never be back to it.

  I turned my car on and put it into reverse. The movement from the trees was back and I could see shadows forming in the darkness. Fear almost outweighed my pain and I reversed out of the driveway, my tires screeching, as I drove off in a cloud of smoke. I looked in my rear view mirror, expecting to see a car pull out behind me, but headlights never appeared.

  I didn’t let out a sigh of relief until I was on the highway a few miles from my house. But with that sigh of relief came more tears. I desperately wanted to turn around and floor it back to the hospital, just to check on my mom again. Maybe I had hallucinated the whole thing.

  But I kept driving. I knew the truth and I had to keep myself alive. My mom would be so disappointed in me if I got myself killed after she spent the past eighteen years keeping us safe.

  I drove until I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I had no idea where I was going and the sign I passed told me I was in Jackson, Wyoming when I pulled off the highway nearly six hours after I left my house. I found the closest, cheapest looking motel and checked myself into a room, begging the attendant to let me pay with cash and putting it under a fake name just in case. If I was going to keep myself alive, I needed to sleep and I hoped the motel would be safe enough.

  I half carried, half dragged the trunk to my
room, planning on going through its contents after a few hours of sleep. I considered keeping it in my car but I worried that the reason my mom and I spent our lives running might be inside of it. I didn’t want whoever was after me to go breaking into my car. I would keep it as close to me as possible.

  The motel room was small and dingy, with the faint smell of smoke and mold, but it had a bed and that was all that mattered right now. I took my shoes off, and crawled onto the squeaking mattress. At least the sheets smelled fresh, and I breathed in their scent when I plopped my head on the pillow. The clock told me it was after midnight and sleep quickly pulled me under.

  And into one of the horrible nightmares that had been plaguing me the past week.

  I was walking in a forest, holding hands with a ball of light. I knew it was a person, but anytime I looked in its direction, I was blinded by the brightness. It was also magnificent, taking my breath away by its sheer beauty.

  During our walk I could see shadows moving between the trees, staring at us, but I wasn't scared of them while I was with the ball of light. I felt like it was protecting me. Then everything would change so quickly. The shadows would attack the light, engulfing it. I would panic and try to fight them off but they would get me, too, and start suffocating me.

  That’s normally where the dream would stop, but this time the sound of someone screaming pulled me further in. I fought my way out of the shadows and made my way towards the scream. I knew it was my mom before I made it to a small clearing in the forest.

  I expected to see the woman that murdered her, but instead there was man crouched over my mom’s body. His blonde hair was thick but wispy and his square face gave him a stern look. What really made him stand out was the eerie way his eyes glowed red. He looked at me, sending a chill down my spine.

  I had never seen this man before in my life, but something about him looked familiar. I was just starting to make a connection when my mom let out a quiet moan. I jumped in her direction, hoping to knock the man away from her but landed with a thud on the ground. My mom and the mysterious man were gone.

  A cruel laugh sounded in my head, followed by the man saying, "You’ll never be able to save anyone you care about. I’ll always find them, and make them suffer.

  Chapter 2

  I sat up in my bed, gasping for air, with sweat covering my entire body. The thin hotel sheet clung to my skin and I peeled myself out of bed. I walked to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face, trying to force the fog out of my brain that the nightmares always seemed to leave.

  I was trembling, but whether it was out of fear or sadness, I didn’t know. I sat back down on the bed with a glass of water in my hand and stared at the wall. I was numb. I wanted to cry more but my eyes were dry. I wanted to scream but I had no voice. Most of all, I wanted to get up and start breaking things around the room.

  It wasn’t fair. Why didn’t I have a normal life? What was so special about me and my mom that made us have to run from any normalcy that we could’ve had?

  My eyes shot to the trunk by the nightstand. All of my answers would be in there, but was I really ready for them?

  I looked at the clock. It read just after three in the morning. Knowing that I only managed to get three hours sleep made me want to cry even more. I wouldn’t be able to sleep for another few hours, not until the unsettling feeling from the nightmare lessened, so I crawled across the bed and pulled the trunk up next to me.

  I ran my hands across the lid, feeling the worn leather straps and cold metal. This was it. I couldn’t stall any longer. I opened the lid and pulled out the stacks of cash, setting them aside. I wanted to count them but I didn’t have the energy to do that now. The cash took up over half of the space in the trunk and left me with a layer of loose papers.

  Sitting on top was an envelope with the words "Read this first" written on it. I picked it up and pulled a piece of paper out of it. A square photo fell out and landed back in the trunk. I left it there for the time being and focused on the piece of paper. It was a letter from my mom, written to me.

  My darling baby, Avery,

  If you're reading this, then something horrible has happened to me and for that I am sorry. I've tried to protect you your entire life and anything happening to me, means I have failed. If I am no longer around or incapacitated then there are some things you need to know.

  First of all, they are going to come for you. They have always tried to steal you from me but I wouldn't let them. Any time they got close, we would run and hide until they came again. They will always come.

  Now you must be wondering who "they" are. Well, to be honest, I'm not entirely sure myself. I've been told once, maybe even a few times, what they are but when I refuse to give you over to them something funny happens to my memory. All I know is that you must never let the ones with red eyes get to you.

  Nine months before you were born I used to be a "party animal" and went clubbing regularly. I had taken an interest in a man who also showed up to them a lot. He had strange red eyes, which I found intriguing at the time. It turned out that he was not a nice man. He brutally attacked me, leaving me nearly dead and pregnant with you. I have one picture of him that I managed to snap with an old Polaroid I had at the time. It's not a very good picture but it will give you some idea of what to watch out for. Now, there are also those with blue eyes and eyes the same color as yours. I feel like they are not as bad as the ones with red eyes but they wanted to take you away from me and that made me believe they were evil. If they find you, you might want to hear them out, but never do anything you don't want to.

  There is something else I must tell you about me. You might be wondering how I was able to protect you so well throughout the years. You may also be wondering why I seemed pretty unstable at times. I was born with a psychic power. I get glimpses of the future in my dreams and I have an excellent ability to block our psychic energies from anyone who might want to find them. It takes a lot of energy to do this and tended to make my mind weak. Especially after we had been found and I had to move us and block out any trail we might leave. I'm hoping some of my psychic abilities were passed down to you and I am truly sorry that I could not be around to teach you. I was planning on telling you after you turned eighteen and teach you what I could so that you could finally go out on your own.

  Something else I need to tell you is about your family. My mother and father, Maria and Joseph, were very strict, religious people. They never believed in my psychic abilities and any time one of my predictions came true it would terrify them. They kicked me out when I was sixteen, thinking I was a child of the devil, or some nonsense. I made a living reading tarot cards and telling other’s their future after that. I never spoke to my parents again and I never tried to visit them. They never tried to contact me either. In their eyes, I wasn't their child. They could still be alive, but I haven't kept up with them. I ask that you try not to find them. They won't be kind.

  Lastly, I want to repeat how truly sorry I am for keeping you so sheltered. I know there were many times that you hated me for not letting you go to public schools and have any close friends. I know you hated moving around constantly and feeling like an outcast. It was for your best, and I hope you will forgive me one day.

  I love you, baby.

  Mom

  P.S. This money is for you. I have always kept up with my psychic jobs to pay the bills and earn as much money as possible. I saved it for you so you wouldn't be completely lost if something happened to me. Use it wisely.

  My breathing was shaky after reading the letter. The thing that stood out most in the entire letter was that there were others out there with the same eye color as mine. I was born with amethyst colored eyes, a strange anomaly that the doctors couldn’t explain.

  My mom’s words made it sound like there were a whole group of people with strange colored eyes and they were apparently all out to get me. The man from my dreams flashed into my head, with his terrifying red eyes, and a feeling of dread washe
d over me.

  I picked up the photo that fell into the trunk, turning it over with a shaky hand. It was a dark photo of a man standing in the corner of a club, a grim look on his face. It was the same man from my dreams and I understood why he looked familiar. My hair was the same wispy blonde as his, only much longer, and my nose and eyes were shaped the same. Luckily, I had my mom’s jaw line, giving me a more delicate look to his stern one.

  There was one word written on the back photo: Lucas.

  So this was my father and presumably the reason my mom and I spent our entire lives running every few months. Now he was not only haunting my waking life but my dreams, too.

  So who was the woman from the hospital? And how did she manage to disappear right in front of my eyes?

  I sat the picture of Lucas on the nightstand and started rummaging through all of the papers in the trunk, trying to find some information about the woman.

  All of the papers in the trunk were various news articles about people with strange colored eyes. There were stories about people with red eyes kidnapping, murdering and raping people. There were stories about people with purple eyes doing nearly impossible things, like lifting cars off of people.

  The one similarity between all of the articles was that the witnesses could never remember what the people looked like, only their eye color. There were a few articles that speculated that they were two rivaling gangs with colored contacts instead of bandanas.

  Most of the articles were from the Washington area, with a few from the area around the Amazon and the mountains in Ukraine.

  Nearly three hours of reading and sorting later, I had no information about the woman with auburn hair. I couldn’t remember what color eyes she had, but I knew she was somehow related to all of these articles my mom saved.