The Eternal

by Bianca Hunter

  “Where the bloody hell were you, love?” she asked, taking a step toward me and placing her hand on my arm.

  “Serena,” I replied simply, trying desperately to avoid Blake’s gaze.

  “I’m going to kill that little witch,” Ravenna hissed. “This has gone too far.” She turned to her brother. “I’m taking her to Aurelius. Serena would never dare go near The Divine.”

  “What do you think Aurelius would do once he has you and Evelyn in his clutches, simply let you go? You’re a daughter of an original immortal, and Evelyn is the granddaughter of Mirena, neither of you would ever have your freedom again.”

  “Damnit,” Ravenna conceded. I could feel Blake’s eyes on me as I kept mine on Ravenna. Don’t look at him.

  “Ravenna, I haven’t been to Lorenzo’s house yet. I think that the way to find Nero is hidden in there,” I said, looking into her eyes now. “Serena has given me three days to bring him back here. She said after the third day, she would kill everyone here, and I think we can all agree that she’s not bluffing.”

  “Ravenna, Tristan, go to Lorenzo’s shack and bring back anything that can help,” Blake spoke. “I’m going to take Evelyn to Viktor and Markus. They should know what to do.”

  “I don’t think that that’s a good idea,” I protested immediately, my chest constricting.

  “Viktor and Markus are about to seal themselves in for Verto,” Ravenna said, raising her eyebrows and completely ignoring me.

  “We’ll just have to get there before they do,” Blake said quickly.

  Ravenna looked from her brother to me. “Blake is the only one who can protect you until he gets you to Viktor and Markus. Tristan and I will find whatever it is you need and bring it to you as soon as we do.”

  “No, you don’t understand,” I said, taking a small step away from all three of them. “It’s really not a good idea. Serena specifically needs me to—”

  “Evelyn, we all know Nero, and we all know what he’s capable of. The fact that Serena wants you to find him is not a good thing. You have to trust us,” she added as I motioned to protest again.

  I nodded and looked over at Tristan, wishing that he could be the one to take me to Viktor.

  “Can’t protect you, America.” Tristan shrugged. “Raven’s right. the only immortal that can is Blake.” He turned to Ravenna and nodded.

  Before I could protest, they disappeared, and I was left in the clearing with Blake.

  “Take my hand. We’ll have to move if we’re to make it in time,” Blake said, holding out his hand to me. I hesitated.

  “This is a really bad idea,” I whispered, feeling sick to my stomach.

  “Evelyn, believe me, if I thought there was another option, I wouldn’t be doing this, but the only two people I know who can truly help you are Viktor and Markus.” His voice was level, but I could sense urgency.

  I took a deep breath and took his hand. Before I could tell what was going on, I felt my feet leave the ground, and a blast of cold air hit me on my right side. I tried to scream but realized I couldn’t inhale. Raw nerves of panic crept into my chest just as it all came to a complete halt. I gasped for air as Blake set me down gently next to his black Range Rover. I held on to the side of the car to balance myself as he pulled open the passenger door.

  He held out his hand once again, and I reached out my shaking hand to take it as he helped me into the car. I leaned back onto the seat and closed my eyes.

  Please let this all be over soon.

  Chapter Twenty

  Blake sped down the hill so fast that we arrived at the bridge in moments.

  “We’re leaving Greyhaven?” I leaned forward, my throat constricting. “I don’t think Serena is going to like this,” I said as he sped across the bridge.

  “As soon as I get you to Viktor and Markus, Serena is not going to have much of a choice in the matter,” he replied.

  “Do they know how to stop her?” I asked, trying not to calm my rapid breathing, knowing that Blake could hear that and my panicked heart.

  “With Serena, it’s not about stopping her, it’s about imprisoning her. I only know three people strong enough to do that—”

  “Viktor, Markus, and Aurelius,” I finished for him. “How did Aurelius imprison her before?” I remembered that Ravenna had told me Serena had escaped him.

  “I don’t know, which is why we’re trying to get to Viktor and Markus before they seal themselves in for Verto.”

  “What is Verto?”

  “The chest Ravenna told you about—two thousand years ago when they first opened it, Viktor, Aurelius, and Markus shared the responsibility of keeping it safe and out of the hands of any mortals that would make the same mistake they had. It worked for a while. Verto is the ceremony of handing over the chest.”

  “But then the covens split apart?”

  “Yes, they did. Viktor rules The Eternal here in Greyhaven, Markus The Enlightened, and Aurelius The Divine.”

  “But aren’t they stronger together?”

  “The problem with being an immortal is, well, time to think, lots of it. Viktor, who had been the general in the army, had become the natural leader of the three. At first, they maintained that order. In fact, it lasted long enough for them to leave Rome and travel here to start a new town where their immortal children could find stability and peace. Other immortals, more ancient ones, joined Greyhaven, including your family,” Blake said as the car sliced through the fog that had enclosed around us.

  “And then they split apart?”

  “First Aurelius. He didn’t last two years in Greyhaven under Viktor’s strict rule. You see, by that time, they had been told by the older immortals that you could gain someone else’s years and abilities,” he said, shifting his gaze to me for a moment.

  “Are all of you able to do, um, these things?”

  “Most of us. Sometimes it can take centuries for certain abilities to surface.”

  “So, did Aurelius want to kill other immortals?” I asked, shifting in my seat.

  “He did. In fact, he’s built his entire coven around it. There is a small village in Romania where immortals can freely feed on each other’s years.”

  “Like vampires?”

  Why do I keep talking about vampires?

  “I do believe that’s where that rumor started.”

  “So, he doesn’t get to look after the box anymore, huh?” I snorted at my own joke. You are such a dork, Evelyn.

  Blake laughed for a split-second, his face completely transforming. “He does not get to look after the chest anymore,” he said, looking at me and grinning. There was something so alluring and beautiful about him when he smiled, I felt my chest constrict and turned away from him.

  I looked down at my lap and noticed that I was still wearing the eighteenth-century French dress. “Oh God, I’m going to have to meet Markus looking like an undead French Monarch.”

  “You can shower and change as soon as we get there.” Blake grinned. “And I can guarantee you, they have seen worse. In fact, I think Viktor may have been at Marie and Louis’s execution, if I’m not mistaken.”

  “Why did people do that? Watch executions?”

  “For a few, it meant a final goodbye to a loved one or family member. Others were there to bear witness and then, of course, the crowds who came to witness a great spectacle. Haven’t you noticed mortals slowing down at the site of an accident? People cannot help themselves, they’re drawn to watching chaos and destruction.”

  We fell silent as the car sped down the road, passing hundreds of pine trees now.

  Ask him about what Serena said. No? Maybe? Is this the right time? No one else is going to tell you. Maybe Ravenna. Just ask. How much worse could any of this possibly get?

  “Serena, she mentioned something to me in the cave,” I ventured, glancing over at him. His eye
s were fixed on the road, probably because we were now driving 125 miles per hour down a small country road in fog.

  Well, at least Serena won’t have to kill me anymore.

  “She, um—” I cleared my throat. “A prophecy.”

  He was completely silent for a moment. In fact, it looked like he had stopped breathing and then he turned to look at me, slowing the car down slightly as he did. “The prophecy refers to a series of visions,” he said, turning toward the road again. “Serena and the Ravens have had the same ones for centuries now.”

  I wanted to throw up, my entire body was tingling and cold, the prophecy was real. “The Ravens?” I replied, my voice shaking and constricted. What was I about to learn, and how horrible would it be?

  “A group of witches that live with Aurelius,” he replied simply. “They are responsible for most of the visions and prophecies, including this one.”

  My heart pounded in my chest. Why did this sound so ominous?

  “In summary, there will only be two immortals left after the first immortal war,” he said, glancing at me.

  “Us?”

  “Yes.”

  “An immortal war?”

  “Between all the covens.”

  “Have they said when this is going to happen?”

  “The catalyst is our meeting,” Blake replied, keeping his voice level.

  “Why did you let me come here. Why did we ever meet?” I cried, thinking about my first meeting with Blake in Latin.

  “I didn’t know it was you,” he replied quietly, his knuckles turning white around the steering wheel.

  “What?”

  “I had been dreaming of you for hundreds of years. I only saw your face in the dream a few weeks ago, and the only thing I knew about the prophecy at the time was that the girl from my dreams would destroy my world, and I would allow it to happen.”

  “Everything that’s happening now is the beginning?”

  “Most likely.” He turned to me.

  “You want to stay away from me, never get too close so when it comes down to it you can—” I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t say the words kill me.

  “I’m not staying away from you so I’ll be able to kill you, Evelyn. I’m staying away from you in the hope that I won’t have to.” He looked into my eyes now.

  “With my luck, you’re going to have to kill me,” I mumbled.

  “The world is a terrible place, little mortal. It’s best to come out and meet her on your own terms. The prophecy will not come to pass because I will not allow it to, and neither will you.”

  I looked at him, and my chest heaved. I took a deep, shaking breath and glanced at Blake. I suddenly felt safer than I ever had in my life knowing he was there for me.

  Do not start with that, Evelyn. Do not allow yourself to feel anything for him. You literally just discovered that you’re probably going to be the end of thousands of immortals, especially if you get too close with Blake. Do not let yourself feel anything. I briefly wondered if Blake was thinking the same thing and wished I could read minds like Tristan.

  “Will we make it to Viktor and Markus in time?” I asked, suddenly panicked as I noticed that the sky was already getting dark.

  “We have precisely eighteen hours to get to them,” Blake replied.

  “Eighteen hours? Where are they?”

  “Verto starts with Viktor and Markus, with a few of the elders locking themselves in a crypt for a full day and night and ends with a celebration where the covens come together. The ceremony starts with The Enlightened in Roanoke and ends with a masquerade in Greyhaven.”

  “Roanoke? As in, the Lost Colony?”

  Blake laughed. “You didn’t actually believe that one hundred fifteen people just disappeared into thin air?”

  “Well, where did you all go?” I thought back to the brief history lesson we had had in fifth grade about the Lost Colony.

  “Nowhere. They’re still there,” Blake said, laughing.

  My mouth fell open. “Hiding in plain sight?” I thought about how I couldn’t find Greyhaven the first time Lorenzo had forced me out.

  “Still there, all one hundred fifteen of them,” he confirmed.

  “What about croatoan?” The word had been carved on a tree or a board of wood.

  “You can ask Tristan about that,” he said, grinning. It was clearly a good memory.

  “I can’t believe they’re all still there,” I said, shaking my head.

  “A few of them have moved to other islands and the mainland, but the town is still there.”

  “What are the Dark Soldiers?” I asked. I remembered Blake and Tristan had mentioned them.

  He turned to me. “The Dark Soldiers are the army of immortals created to protect the covens from immortals that would bring them harm.”

  “How do they do that?” Was there an immortal prison?

  “They kill them,” Blake replied, turning to me briefly.

  “But—the punishment is exactly the same as the crime.” I gaped.

  “Markus, unlike Viktor, believes that immortal lives are sacrosanct and that anyone with the intention of destroying that life must themselves be destroyed.”

  “Viktor doesn’t want to protect immortal life?”

  “He does, and he offers protection to anyone in Greyhaven, which is impenetrable by anyone but those who reside there. The difference between Markus and Viktor is that Viktor doesn’t purposefully go out to hunt immortals breaking the rules.”

  “So, if you kill another immortal—”

  “You will be marked by the Dark Soldiers.”

  “I don’t know how to feel about this.”

  “Well, if we ever come across Nero, I think you’ll find yourself siding with the Dark Soldiers,” Blake replied. “We’re here.”

  I looked ahead, expecting to see a village or a town, but I was met with more fog. “Ah, yes, the land of fog, I know it well,” I mumbled, hoping that something would break through soon. Blake grinned and slowed down to take a left turn onto a dirt road. Within a few seconds, the fog had all but disappeared.

  “Just like that,” I whispered to myself.

  “Welcome to Greyson Airport,” he said as a single hangar and tarmac appeared in front of us.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The air was bitterly cold as I walked down the dark, damp alley. The cobblestones beneath my feet were full of dissolving vomit and mud, which stood little chance with the constant drizzle that had continued for hours. The black cotton umbrella I held in my small gloved hand provided little shelter now.

  I thought about the warm, safe carriage I had just left behind, and a small part of me was tempted to abandon this madness and return to its safety and to the safety of Viktor in Belgravia. The cold wind stung my face as I marched on, pushing thoughts of home to the depths, and reminding myself why I was here.

  Another breeze hit me and brought with it a stench that traveled through my nostrils and down to the bile in my stomach, forcing it to rise to my throat. Drunken cries of joy and sorrow sounded in the distance, and I was relieved that this alley was all but abandoned save one figure lurking near the gas lamp.

  I tried not to glance at her as I passed, but as usual, I could not help myself. Her dirty mouse-brown hair was matted to her gray face, and I noticed that someone had left a fingernail scratch on her right cheek. Her eyes were hollow and desperate, her skeletal frame screaming out for a warm hearth and a full, uninterrupted meal, two things I knew she was not likely to receive tonight, or any other night.

  I looked up at the sky as soon as I passed the woman. It was getting lighter, perhaps nearing dawn. With the London smog and chimney smoke, I couldn’t be sure, and panic rose in my chest. I had to reach him before he left for the docks and boarded the ship back to Italy.

  Another gust of wind forced my long
silver hair into the murky London air and wrapped itself around my neck, providing me with some warmth and a pleasant sensation of something clean on my skin. If Viktor could only see me now, his silver sparrow walking through the grime and trotting in dung.

  I finally reached the pathetic gas lamp, which stood derelict next to the stone house with the address I had received on a small missive in the morning. I knocked on the dilapidated wooden door, which was scarred with knife marks and plastered with muck. As I waited in fearful anticipation, a black dog, so emaciated, its ribs had carved out of its skin, passed me. Its hollow, lifeless eyes reminded me of the woman I had just passed—was everything here wretched and abandoned by hope?

  I leaned over to try to peer through the window. All I could see in the black-mirror reflection was my own porcelain skin and icy-blue eyes staring back in the only window pane that someone had wiped clean of the black soot that covered the rest of them. My face and my clean hair and lavish dress looked out of place in this dirt infested rat hole of a street. Why did Nero always insist on meeting so close to the docks?

  The drunken voices were getting louder, and I realized they were making their way down my alley—eleven men, all drunk, all dock workers. I began to imagine what they would do to the woman when they reached her. Not thirty seconds later, when the heavy door finally swung open in front of me, I heard her cries for help.

  “About time,” I said, coming face-to-face with my brother.

  Nero, blunt, brusque, and brutal towered over me, his yellow eyes piercing my blue ones.

  “My little sister, my sweet milk-and-honey sister,” he said, his voice so deep one imagined a demon instead of a man.

  “Why have you asked me here?” I replied coolly, not in the mood for Nero’s snide remarks.

  He stepped into the light of the alleyway where the men were now taking turns on the whore. His face was covered in precisely one hundred small scars, each representing an immortal he had killed. The rest of his body was covered in them also, but his filthy black beggar clothing covered those. Had Nero not destroyed his face himself, he would be handsome to behold, save the yellow eyes, of course.