Sorrow's Gift (Eternal Sorrows Book 2)

by Sarra Cannon

  She grabbed the bags of candy. “I think we were done in here, anyway,” she said, balancing her flashlight in her arms and following the girl to the other room with a heavy heart.

  She couldn’t hide her smile. She’d overheard the conversation between Noah and Parrish in the dark. Before she’d come into their lives, they’d been well on their way to remembering their past. One kiss would have likely brought their memories rushing back like a tidal wave crashing over them.

  In one day, she’d managed to plant that small seed of doubt that would keep them apart and guessing for a while. She was proud of herself. It had been ridiculously easy, and that was just the beginning of her plans to disrupt their relationships and trust.

  The others were waiting on the floor of the living room and the witch switched off her flashlight. “Found them,” she said.

  “Good,” Crash said. “Ooh, you guys found candy?”

  Parrish spread the candy out on the blankets, stashing the bag of suckers in her backpack. “There was some other food in the kitchen, too,” she said. “I put it in bags and set it all on the counters. We can load it up tomorrow.”

  “Great,” Crash said.

  “I told them you wanted to talk about the plan,” the witch said. She was anxious to hear what he had in store, too. As soon as she knew where there were planning to go, she could let the Dark One know exactly where to find them.

  “I didn’t want to say anything earlier, because I just wasn’t sure I’d be able to get in touch with him with the current state of things,” he said. “But I have this friend from a smaller town outside Philly who told me he’d managed to set up a camp in a National Guard Armory there. He was enlisted and went there to help out when things started to get rough. He saved as many as he could and fortified the whole place before it got too bad.”

  “A safe zone?” Karmen asked.

  The witch watched as hope spread across their faces. They honestly still believed there might be such a thing as a safe place left in the world. They obviously had no idea who they were dealing with.

  “Kind of,” he said. “Not a government place, officially, but he told me they have a lot of weapons and food and water. I hadn’t heard from him in a few days, but earlier I got a message from him that they’re still doing okay. He said we’re welcome to join them if we want.”

  “But?” Noah asked.

  “The only condition is that we help them out when asked,” Crash said. “He said that everyone has a job and they pitch in when they’re asked to do special assignments like go on supply runs or things like that.”

  “Sounds reasonable,” Parrish said.

  “So we’re all in?” Crash asked. “I don’t want to take us there if the whole group isn’t comfortable with it. I want to make sure we’re all on the same page.”

  The witch considered her options. It was obvious the group wanted to find a safe place to live instead of wandering around in the world. Depending on the security around this place, it might be very difficult for her to plan any attacks that would put the group in danger.

  On the other hand, though, letting them feel safe for a while might be a good idea. She would be able to work on her plan to get closer to them and cause them to start doubting each other.

  They were also less likely to use their powers when they were with a large group like that. The less they connected with that part of themselves, the better. All she had to do was stall them for a while, just long enough for the Dark One’s power to grow. If they were inside a safe zone, they wouldn’t stumble on the true fifth accidentally, and they wouldn’t go looking for him. Once there, they wouldn’t want to leave and risk the kinds of attacks they might find out on the open road.

  When Crash had made it around the circle and finally asked for her vote, she nodded in agreement, deciding that above all else, the Dark One needed time. Let them think they were safe and normal, no different from the rest of the humans struggling to survive. Let them think their group was complete and that there was no rush to find anyone else.

  “I think it’s a good idea,” she said. “Even just having this one day out on the road was terrifying. If Karmen hadn’t saved us from that group near Baltimore, I don’t know what might have happened.”

  “Oh, that reminds me,” Karmen said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She went to the other side of the room, rummaged in her pack for a second, and came back with both of her hands curled into fists. She held them out toward the witch. “Pick a hand.”

  The witch frowned. Was this some kind of game humans liked to play? She’d already learned to play some of their card games, but she was worried that her inexperience and lack of knowledge about this world would eventually catch up with her. There was only so long she could play the amnesia trick.

  “Which one?” she asked.

  Karmen laughed. “You know, pick a hand. Any hand,” she said. “Whichever one you want.”

  The witch studied them both, unsure which was the right choice or why Karmen was asking her to play this silly game. Finally, she tapped Karmen’s left hand, hoping she’d done the right thing.

  Karmen turned her fist over and opened her fingers to reveal a thin silver chain.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  Karmen straightened the chain. “I found it at the gas station earlier,” she said. “On one of those displays where they sell bracelets with everyone’s names on them. I figured since you still couldn’t remember your own name, it was time to give you one.”

  The witch’s lips parted and her breath caught in her throat. “You’re giving me a name?”

  “Sure,” Karmen said with a shrug. “If that’s okay with you, I mean? Especially if we’re going to a safe-zone and we’re going to meet a lot of new people, we need something to call you other than ‘girl’ or ‘you’.”

  The witch turned away, not wanting them to see the tears in her eyes.

  She’d been taken in by the Council when she was just a young witch. They had found her roaming the woods near the city, unable to remember her name or how she had gotten there. None of the servant girls were given names by the Council of Fire. They were told they were unworthy, mere slaves with no value or purpose outside of serving the elders.

  She had longed for a name her entire life, because a name would mean she had proven herself. She had worth.

  “Do you want to try it on?” Karmen asked, holding the silver bracelet out to her.

  The witch ran her fingers under her eyes and nodded. Karmen secured the delicate clasp around the wrist on her healthy arm, and when she touched the letters of her new name, she couldn’t hold back the rest of her tears.

  “Lily,” she whispered.

  “Do you like it?” Karmen asked.

  She nodded and reached out to take Karmen’s hand. “I love it,” she said. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

  Karmen shrugged. “It was nothing, honestly.”

  “This means more to me than you can know.”

  “What was the other one?” Crash asked.

  Karmen opened her other hand all the way and held the other name up for them to see. “Rose,” she said.

  “Flowers?” Parrish asked.

  “I guess it sounds morbid, but since we know this virus started from some kind of flower, I thought it seemed appropriate,” she said. “Without those flowers, we might not all be together right now.”

  “Nice, so you named her after the virus?” Parrish said.

  “They’re still beautiful names,” Karmen said. “And we’re all somehow linked to this virus, aren’t we? It has killed so many, but at the same time, it’s made us new people. Like we were reborn.”

  “It’s a beautiful thought. And I like the name Lily,” Noah said. He touched her hand and ran his thumb across the letters. “It suits you.”

  “You think?” she said, unable to hold back her smile. She’d never been treated with such respect and kindness.

  “Definitely,” he said, meeting her eyes.r />
  “Does it have a meaning?” she asked. “Other than the flower?”

  “Purity, I think,” Crash said. “They were my mother’s favorite flowers.”

  “I love it,” she said, wishing her soul was pure. She wanted to be worthy of her new name.

  Crash smiled at her and then clapped his hands together. “So it’s settled then. Tomorrow we go to Philly and meet up with these survivors,” he said. “And for now, I think it’s a good idea if we keep our new abilities a secret. I have a feeling anything or anyone that’s different from normal is just going to scare people right now.”

  “Agreed,” Noah said.

  “We should probably think about getting some rest,” Parrish said. “Who wants to take the first shift on watch? I was thinking we should rotate just in case something happens in the middle of the night.”

  “I’ll start,” the witch said. She didn’t think she’d be able to sleep, anyway. Not now.

  “Thanks Lily,” Parrish said.

  The witch looked up, gasping at the sound of her new name on someone else’s lips. Parrish winked at her and the witch blushed.

  I have a name, she thought as her heart fluttered in her chest.

  When the others had switched off the lights and climbed under the covers to sleep, she sat in a chair by the window, her feet tucked under her body. She pressed the cool silver chain against her cheek and smiled.

  This gesture went against everything she’d believed about the guardians. She’d grown up thinking the Dark One was unjustly punished for her part in the war, and the guardians were wrong for trapping her here in this world.

  But what if she’d been the one who was wrong?

  She ran a hand along the aching burns that pulsed with a pain she didn’t understand. The Dark One said the pain would make her stronger, but hadn’t she lived in pain her entire life?

  It was unexpected kindness that suddenly made her heart surge with pride and power. She glanced back at the room of sleeping guardians. After a lifetime of feeling alone and ignored, this was the first time she’d ever felt accepted. Needed. These teenagers weren’t asking anything of her. They simply invited her into their group without question and promised to take care of her.

  It was the closest she had ever felt to having a real family.

  But when she looked back toward the window, a servant of the Dark One was watching her, its eyes locked on her face. The zombie didn’t move or beat against the window. It simply watched her, reminding her that the Dark One had eyes everywhere.

  And that to betray her now would mean nothing less than death.

  Everyone was sleeping, but he couldn’t shut off his mind enough to rest.

  Maybe it was the baby upstairs in the crib, or maybe it was the dreams he’d been having lately, but something had him feeling restless.

  Finally giving up on sleep, he sat up and looked around.

  Karmen was on her stomach on the floor, her legs propped up behind her and a book open on the floor under the lamp. He smiled.

  He tossed his blanket to the side and stood up, walking over to sit next to her.

  She closed her book and sighed. “Can’t sleep?” she asked.

  “Not a wink,” he said. “You?”

  “It was my turn to stand watch,” she said.

  “It’s quiet around here, at least,” he said. “No signs of any rotters except the ones we killed earlier.”

  He didn’t mention the baby.

  “What are you reading?” he asked.

  “Just something I found on the coffee table,” she said. “Atlas Shrugged. Ever read it?”

  “It’s one of my favorites,” he said. “Not exactly light reading, though.”

  “Tell me about it,” she said with a laugh.

  “I thought you said you didn’t like to read,” he said. He almost didn’t mention it, because he liked the fact that they were carrying on an actual conversation instead of shooting insults toward each other.

  “I lied,” she said, and he could swear he saw her cheeks turn pink in the dim light.

  “Why?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess reading isn’t exactly what people expect the head cheerleader to say she likes to do in her spare time,” she said. “Plus, I didn’t want anyone to start in on the dumb blonde jokes.”

  “The curse of popularity,” he said. He put his hands behind his head and leaned back against the couch. “I was lucky never to be burdened with that.”

  “I know you’re teasing me, but it’s harder than you might think,” she said, sitting up and crossing her legs under her. “Being pretty and popular isn’t as fun as people think it is. People are always watching you. Judging you. Expecting things from you.”

  “So why give in to it?” he asked. “I mean, I know none of that really matters now, but why play the game if you hated it so much?”

  She shrugged again and avoided his eyes.

  “You work so hard to keep everyone at arm’s length, don’t you? Why is that?” he asked, knowing he might be pushing her too hard, but not wanting to let up. He wanted to know more about her. What made her tick? Why was she always so hard on everyone?

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me,” he said.

  “My life wasn’t as perfect as everyone thought it was,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. “My dad, he was kind of a monster, to be honest. I guess I was always afraid if I let anyone in, they’d see it and they’d know.”

  “Know what?” His heart felt like it was about to beat right out of his chest. He’d wanted her to open up to him, but he hadn’t expected this.

  When she glanced up at him, her eyes were full of tears.

  “Can we talk about something else?” she asked, swiping at her cheek.

  Crash nodded, understanding everything now. She didn’t even have to say it for him to know what her father must have done to her. If the bastard wasn’t already dead, he would have hunted him down and killed him.

  “My father was kind of a monster, too,” he said.

  “He was?” She sniffed and tugged at the pages of the book.

  “When I was really little, we used to take a trip out of the city every summer to visit his family,” he said. He looked around the room of the big farmhouse. “They lived in a place like this. Big and isolated. A real country place. My grandparents bred horses, and I used to love to visit their place. After growing up in a small apartment in the city, it was like visiting a mansion. There were eight bedrooms in their house, and I loved that I had my own space.”

  He wasn’t sure why he was dredging up these old memories, but the moment they’d pulled up to the farmhouse, he hadn’t been able to get those summers out of his mind.

  “One summer night, when I was five, my parents sent me to bed and sat down to play cards with my grandparents and my aunt and uncle. I couldn’t sleep, so I sat at the window looking up at all those stars,” he said. “I heard a glass break downstairs and my dad started yelling. Naturally, I snuck down the stairs to find out what was going on. It wasn’t really that unusual for my dad to be yelling. He was a mean dude, always shouting and saying terrible things, especially when he’d been drinking. But until that night, he’d never gotten so violent.”

  “What did he do?” she asked.

  Crash took a deep breath, remembering that night like it was yesterday.

  “He was yelling at my mom for spilling his scotch on the cards. He called her all kinds of terrible names, but I’d heard it all before. My parents argued a lot. I hated it, but I was used to it,” he said. He brought his hands down to his lap and balled them into fists. “This time was different, though. My mom just wouldn’t back down. They’d both been drinking and money was tight that year, so they were both overworked and stressed. My mom hadn’t even wanted to go on the trip to the farm that year. She’d told him they didn’t have the money to take time off, but Dad had insisted, saying he didn’t care if they both had to work double shifts,
he was going to the country like he did every year.

  “Anyway, the argument got out of hand. I remember sitting on those steps in the dark with my hands tightened around the baluster. I had never been so scared in my life. My grandparents were trying to break it up, but my dad was huge. He was one of those big guys that was twice as big as his mom and even bigger than his father. You just didn’t mess with him, you know?”

  Karmen nodded, her eyes locked on his. Her undivided attention gave him the strength to go on, knowing in his gut she needed to hear this story.

  “They just kept shouting at each other, and finally, my dad picked his glass off the table and smashed it against my mom’s forehead,” he said, cringing at the memory. “She fell to the ground like a ragdoll, and I swear to God, I thought he’d killed her. And he didn’t stop there. He kicked her three times in the head before his dad finally managed to pull him away.”

  “Holy shit, was she okay?”

  Crash shook his head. “Would you be okay after that?” he asked. “She spent almost three weeks in the hospital there before they released her. Dad had to go back to work, so he made me leave with him and head back to the city. In my five-year-old brain, I thought maybe I’d never see her again. I thought maybe if I disagreed with him, he’d kill me, too.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

  “The day my mom came home, they hugged and kissed like nothing had happened,” he said. “But after he left for work, my mom came into my room with a suitcase. She told me to pack it as fast as I could and not to ask any questions. I packed as much as I could into a tiny suitcase and she rushed me out to her beat-up old car and drove us out of Chicago as fast as she could. She called in a favor from a friend, changed our names and got a job in D.C. We moved from apartment to apartment, staying with friends of friends for almost two years before she finally saved up enough money to rent her own place.”

  “Your mother sounds like a very strong woman.”

  “She was,” he said, blinking fast to keep the tears from falling.