Just turn around quickly to see what it is. It won’t be anything, and then you don’t have to be scared anymore.
Feeling rooted to the spot and holding my breath, I slowly turned my neck to see what it was.
A man with long, greasy hair, shoddy old clothing, and a patched-up black cloak stood about five feet away from me. His charcoal eyes bore into mine, and his hands were clenched into fists. My leg muscles tightened, ready to run.
Is he going to move or just stand there?
Pockmarks dotted his face, and a massive scar etched the skin under his right eye, which was still fixated on me.
I did the only thing I could think of and turned away, forcing myself to walk, slowly at first, meaningfully. I didn’t want to appear fearful. I could barely hear the sounds of his footsteps over my hammering heart.
Just calm down and listen. He doesn’t know you; he doesn’t have a reason to hurt you. What if he’s just crazy?
I heard another crack of a branch and flinched. The footsteps, which had been in sync with mine, sped up. I didn’t dare turn back, and when his footsteps finally broke into a run, so did I.
I scanned the area in front of me, trying desperately to find a place I could hide or a house I could run into, but all I could see was the bridge at the end of the road. Hearing the rush of the river and ignoring Kate’s warning about not crossing the bridge, I ran in that direction. His footsteps pounded closer, closer, gaining on me with every step. I sped up. I was never a very good runner, and I was sure that if the man behind me were betting on me eventually growing too tired to go on, he’d be right.
My lungs and throat burned as I finally crossed the bridge and ran a few feet farther. And suddenly, I couldn’t hear the footsteps anymore, in fact, I couldn’t hear anything anymore—not even the rushing of the water.
I slowed to a jog and tried to catch my breath, pressing my hand against the stitch in my side. Was he still following me?
Just keep running for a bit longer and then check if he’s still there.
Who was he? What did he want?
Keeping up a brisk jog, I finally glanced over my shoulder, but before I could take in the scene, a sharp pain shot up my leg as my foot hit a rock on the side of the road. Unable to catch my balance, I fell to the ground with a thud. My palms and knees stung as gravel dug deeply into them.
I laid my face down on the road for a moment, groaning in agony, and then remembered the reason I had been running in the first place. I bit down on my lip, ignoring the pain in my body as I forced myself up to check if I was safely away from my pursuer.
As soon as I put weight on my left ankle, pain pulsated through it. I cringed and let out a little yelp. Shifting all my weight onto my right leg, I turned back to the bridge and hesitantly looked up. I was met with the view of nothing. There was nothing there. Not only was there no sign of the dirty man but there also wasn’t anything else in sight—no river, no bridge, no town.
I turned in a circle, looking for the bridge that led to Greyhaven, ignoring the shooting pain in my ankle. My heart pounded again, and my hands began to sweat and shake. Where was the bridge I had just crossed?
I stared out onto miles and miles of empty green fields all covered in a thin layer of mist. Every angle repeated the same scene. No more town, no forest. I gaped as my stomach lurched.
The bridge had disappeared, and so had Greyhaven.
Chapter Five
“Impossible,” I murmured, scanning my surroundings. I had just crossed the bridge—how was it possible to get lost so quickly? The endless silence I was cocooned in was only broken by the heavy darts of rain pelting my head, blocking my vision from anything beyond my now outstretched arms. I squeezed my eyes shut.
Just calm down. This is impossible.
I opened my eyes again, and a flush of adrenaline coursed through my veins.
“What?” I breathed, rapidly blinking and lifting my hands. I was standing in the middle of a road surrounded by nothing but hills of grass and fog.
I took a hesitant step forward and yelped. The thudding pain in my ankle momentarily distracted me.
What are you going to do? Okay, just calm down, there’s a reasonable explanation for this. Greyhaven could be just over those hills, it must be. Just try to walk back.
I tried to put some weight on my ankle and cried out in pain. I grimaced and toyed with the idea of just sitting on the side of the road and waiting for a car to eventually pass.
Evelyn, Greyhaven is in the middle of nowhere, isolated from any town or city. No one is going to drive down this road.
How far could I possibly have run from the bridge? It was right behind me, not five feet away.
I tried to take a step forward, but this one convinced me that I had broken my ankle. Walking was not an option.
Tears of frustration built in my eyes, and a burning lump formed in my throat.
“Help me!” I screamed into the nothingness. “Someone, please help me!” I screamed again, this time realizing how doubtful it was that anyone would hear me, even if there were someone around. The rain seemed to hear my plea, and it let up, turning into a drizzle. But as soon as it did, the thick fog closed in on me from every angle. It crept in all around me, blocking my view of the road and the field.
In the space of seconds, I couldn’t see anything anymore. The fog muted every sound in the world, and although I knew I was standing in the middle of a road surrounded by fields, it felt like I had suddenly been pulled into a sky of clouds.
Move out of the road. If a car does come this way, the driver will never see you in this.
I took a deep breath, and I was about to exhale when an agonized scream pierced the air, seeming to come from every direction in the thick fog.
It was a scream so familiar yet so haunting that every muscle in my body froze, and I was unable to move, unable to breathe. I turned around, ignoring the pain in my ankle, trying to zone in on the area the scream was coming from.
Dead silence filled the air again, but the merciful muteness didn’t last for long. Another piercing wail permeated the air. My jaw clenched, and every single heartbeat rang in my ears. And then the words reached me.
“Viktor, please no,” I heard the woman cry.
The sound of desperation in her voice traveled through me, and I finally found the will to move through my fear.
“Where are you?” I yelled as I searched the white thickness around me.
The response was another scream, but this time I knew it would be the last. The scream didn’t die down naturally. It was stopped, extinguished like a flame in water. I held my breath for a few moments. Had whoever was out there heard me?
Before I could decide what to do, the rain returned, and I couldn’t hear anything except the pounding of the water on the road. I started moving in the direction I thought would lead me safely back to the side of the road. I would have to get away from here as soon as I could. Had the man who was following me found the screaming woman instead? I felt sick at the thought of what he was capable of.
What are you going to do? You can’t stay here. What if he finds you?
As I reached the side of the road, the fog lingered, and although it had dispersed a little, I still couldn’t see anything. I immediately carried on walking in the direction I thought I had come from, trying desperately to ignore the pain in my ankle, but within five minutes I wasn’t so certain anymore.
Am I going the wrong way? Which way did I fall?
Just as I was about to turn around again, something caught my attention—the distant sound of a car engine. Every muscle in my body tensed, heavy with adrenaline. At first, I didn’t give in to the hope that it really was a car out in the middle of nowhere, but then I saw the distant flicker of lights shine through the fog and heard the distinct sound of a car through the rain. As it came closer, I turned to face the on
coming glare of headlights, waving my arms frantically as I struggled with the pain in my ankle.
“Help!” I cried as the car passed. “Help me, please!” But the car didn’t stop. I watched it disappear into the thick mist. My shoulders slumped.
“No, no, no,” I moaned, hobbling after the car. Just as I was about to stop chasing, red and white reverse lights permeated the fog. A light-gold convertible Aston Martin Vantage, pulled up next to me a few seconds later.
I peered into the darkly tinted window, which was opening slowly. A guy, possibly around my age or a bit older cocked his head, his dark-blue eyes staring at me, a question forming on his full lips.
“Where—how did you get here?” he asked, frowning.
I moved closer to the door, feeling the heat from inside the car pass over me.
“I need help.” I shivered. “I’m lost and my ankle,” I explained, needlessly pointing at my foot. “There’s something wrong. I think it may be sprained or broken.” I tried to keep my voice level as pain stabbed through my ankle again. “Also, I think there is a woman who needs help—she was screaming, I think in pain. I think he really hurt her.”
He frowned and stared into my eyes, his diamond-shaped face still leaning to one side.
“We need to call the police, please,” I pressed on, trying to balance on one foot.
“How did you—?” he started, his eyes darting around the scenery, but he finally seemed to realize the urgency of the situation and didn’t finish his sentence. He opened his door slightly, and I hobbled back so he could open it widely enough to get out.
I noticed he was a head taller than I was bedore he bent down and looked at my ankle, now red and swollen.
“I think you may be right,” he muttered.
He stood back up, and heat radiated from his body—six feet, Justin’s height.
Don’t.
He also had Justin’s blond hair in a similar controlled chaos look that would keep my step-brother in the bathroom for longer than Grace and I put together.
“Can you call the police?” I pressed again, tugging down my sweater for something to do with my hands, which seemed to suddenly be alien to my body.
He clenched his jaw and hesitated. “No signal. I’ll have to call from town,” he replied with a level tone, turning his face away.
“Okay, we’ll have to hurry though,” I replied, wincing as I put a bit of pressure on my foot. I stopped in my tracks. “Do you think we should go look for her?”
“The screaming woman?” he asked, raising his eyebrow.
“I really think she needs help.” I turned back in the direction of the fog-consumed hills.
“Look, um—”
“Evelyn,” I offered.
“Old-fashioned name,” he mumbled, seemingly bemused.
Why are you talking about my name when there is someone clearly in danger? Or dead.
“Look,” he continued, probably picking up on my annoyance. “Let me get you back home, and I’ll call someone to help her, but you and I are never going to find her in this.”
He was right, of course, but I hated leaving someone out there.
“Where did you come from? What are you doing out here on your own?” he asked, the rain matting his hair and drenching his clothes. Somehow, he was still gorgeous. I was pretty sure that I looked like a drowning rat.
“Raleigh,” I replied immediately and then sucked in a deep breath. “Um, Greyhaven. I’m from Greyhaven,” I repeated, trying to allow it to sink in.
“How did you get all the way out here?” he asked, taking off his black sports jacket and wrapping it around me. It was already damp from the rain, which was slowly easing up now, but the heat from his body was still in the jacket, and it helped. I watched as the rain drenched his gray hoodie.
“What do you mean all the way out here?” I asked.
A frown carved out on his forehead. “We’re about twenty miles out of Greyhaven.” He narrowed his eyes. “How did you get here?” he asked again.
“I- I,” I muttered, turning to face the road where I was certain I had come from. “Impossible.” My shoulders slumped. I had only just left Greyhaven; it was supposed to be a few minutes away at most. A sickening lump formed in the pit of my stomach. How had this happened? Please don’t be going insane.
“Look, it doesn’t matter how you got here right now. Let’s get in the car, and I’ll take you back home.” He held out his hand. “Let’s go.” He nodded as I placed my hand in his.
I jerked my head. His hand was scorching hot, just as Kate’s had been.
“What is it with the body temperatures here?” I exclaimed and tore my hand away from his before I could stop myself.
“Maybe you’re just cold blooded.” He grinned, dismissing my comment.
Or maybe I’m going absolutely insane: losing time, sleepwalking, imagining voices, and feeling things that aren’t real.
“Come on, let’s get you home,” he said gently now.
I tried to walk as he led me toward the passenger door, but as soon as I put any weight on my ankle, I felt a sharp twinge. I bit my lip and paused for a moment. Before I knew it, he was at my side, touching my arm with the tips of his warm fingers. He smelled so good, and for a brief second, it felt like electricity was coursing through me. My blood rushed to the surface as I blushed. I turned my head and hoped that my dangling wet hair would conceal my red cheeks.
Oh God, Evelyn, please stop being so freaking ridiculous. Just a stranger saving you. Why does he have to be so good-looking though? Shut up.
“Look, let me help you,” he said, breaking off at the end of the sentence. He smiled, his beautiful full lips curling with just a hint of a frown on his forehead.
Oh God.
“I didn’t get your name,” I asked, my voice wavering. I could feel myself blush again. What was wrong with me?
“Tristan. Cavendish.”
Great, even your name is pretty.
“I’m just going to help you to the car,” he explained, moving so close that I felt the heat pulsating off his body, his shirt clinging to his sculpted chest and broad shoulders.
“No! I mean, it’s not that bad. I’m sure it will be fine,” I stammered, trying to avoid his piercing eyes.
“Come on, you can hardly walk. I promise I won’t bite,” he said, smirking now. I had a feeling he was entertained by my embarrassment.
“Um—” But before I knew it, he had his arms beneath my knees and the small of my back and was carrying me toward the passenger door. Not knowing what else to do, I wrapped my arms around his neck and felt the heat of his warm skin against the cold of mine.
“See, I don’t bite,” he coaxed. “Mostly.”
I wasn’t even listening to him anymore. My heart pounded, and I cringed, hoping he couldn’t hear it.
He opened the passenger door easily without letting his grip on me ease for a second and slid me into the seat effortlessly. I turned my head at exactly the wrong moment, and my lips touched his turned cheek.
My face burned as I tried to move my head away, but as I did my lips brushed his nose this time. I didn’t conceal the groan of horror. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that my face was red and was probably going to stay that way permanently.
I glanced at him. To my dismay, he was smirking.
“We should probably establish if we have anything in common and share mutual hopes and dreams before you come on to me,” he joked, pulling on the seat belt and leaning over me to fasten it.
I lifted my index finger to my forehead and leaned on it, looking down at my wet sneakers.
Just grin. You’re grimacing, that is a grimace.
He shut the car door carefully and walked past the front window. For a split-second, I could have sworn his face broke out into a laugh, but by the time he got back into the car he was per
fectly composed.
“So, where in Greyhaven do you live?” he asked, starting the car. Water still dripped from his hair. The heater was turned on, and the hot air hit my cold skin. I shivered; he noticed and leaned forward to turn it up.
“I’m-not-sure,” I stammered, positively convulsing from the sudden heat on my cold body. He turned his head and reached for something from the backseat. Before I could protest, he covered me with his knee-length black coat.
“Thanks,” I murmured.
Please don’t be a serial killer.
“You don’t know where you live?” he asked.
He’s helping you, a serial killer would kill you out here and not have evidence in his car.
“Well, I think I would recognize it, but I only moved there yesterday,” I stammered.
You should really stop watching those stupid crime shows. Oh, wait, no TV anyway.
“Kate’s niece?” he ventured.
“How did you—?”
“Small town,” he replied, revving the engine.
He put the car in gear. “I’m heading back toward Greyhaven. I’ll take you home,” he said, watching the road as he sped up.
“How did you get out here?” he asked as the car cut through the fog and rain that had so easily defeated me.
“I honestly don’t know,” I breathed. “I was walking around the village, and a man started following me. He started running after me—”
“He was chasing you?”
“Yeah.”
“What did he look like?” Tristan asked, suddenly more alert than he had been before.
“Um—” I shook my head, trying to remember the details of the stranger. “Dirty, scar under his right eye, black hair, really dark eyes,” I mumbled, remembering his hollow eyes. “Old moth-worn clothing.”
“And he chased you toward the bridge?”
“Do you know who he is?” I asked.
I watched as the muscles in Tristan’s shoulders tensed. “No.”
“Right,” I whispered. He knew exactly who the man was. “Anyway, I ran over the bridge and fell, and when I got up, I was standing in the middle of nowhere.”
The Eternal Page 4
