by Amber Flora
Chapter 9
Herrick watched her hanging the clothes out to dry. He thought of the last time he had seen her. There were no sweet goodbyes or kind words spoken. They merely parted ways and went on with their lives. He knew coming here was a mistake. He should have never left Ashtyn so he could seek out a ghost from his past, but he had to know. He needed answers and she may be the only one who could provide them.
“Hello, Herrick. I would say it’s good to see you but we both know that to be a lie,” the woman spoke over her shoulder. She still had skills, that was obvious. He had taken every precaution not be noticed as he approached the shack. He wasn’t sure Damon had given him the correct location until he actually saw her. How the hell did she end up here?
“Jewel, I see you’re doing that maid’s work now. Have you fallen on hard times?”
The woman turned to face him. She looked him up and down as if to confirm it was really him.
“I do not require someone to cater to my every need. I am quite capable of doing my own laundry.”
“As it would seem. Mind if we talk?”
She nodded and led him up the stairs into the house.
Damon had given him her whereabouts, but Herrick did not believe it until he saw for himself. He found her in a remote location in Belize shacked up in a small house on stilts. The paint was peeling in most places, but it looked as though it used to be blue. The windows were just wooden panels with a big enough gap to let air flow through. She had no form of transportation and any means of civilization was hours away. How the hell did she survive out here? She was a long way away from where he last saw her: living in a three-story mansion in LA. What had led her to seclude herself in a remote part of the jungle? Times certainly have changed.
“How is Trevor these days?” she asked, pouring him a glass of lemonade.
“Dead.” He thought she might have already known that, but it wouldn’t surprise him if this was the first she had heard of it. It’s not as if they were close.
She paused for a moment and handed him the glass.
“Pity, he had such nice cheek bones.”
Herrick snorted. “Yeah, you seem really broken up about it.”
“Should I be? Are you?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.
“No, Jewel, I’m not. Can we cut the small talk? Neither of us cares how each other’s life is going.”
“Very well, why are you gracing me with your presence after all these years?”
Herrick thought about how crazy he would sound. He knew it was a long shot, but he had to know the truth regardless of how difficult it may be to hear.
“Have you ever known a non-vibrant to possess our unique traits?”
She looked at him questioningly.
“You mean our ability to read emotions?”
“No, the other one.”
Jewel’s eyes went wide.
“You’re speaking of our eyes?”
Herrick nodded.
“Well, I have never seen or heard of a non-vibrant with that ability.”
There it was. She had confirmed for him what he had feared. Ashtyn’s eyes were just an anomaly, nothing more.
“Thank you, I’ll be going now.” He got what he needed, an answer. It wasn’t the one he wanted, but at least he could put his silly conspiracy theory to rest.
“Hold on, I said I had never seen or heard of one, I didn’t say no one has tried.”
Herrick stopped walking, grabbing Jewel’s arm and shaking it.
“Tell me what you know.”
Jewel’s confusion showed on her face. “Herrick, are you angry? That isn’t possible. How do you possess the ability to be angry?”
She was right, he was angry. There was no one around whom he could be pulling their emotions from. What the hell was happening to him? Vibrants don’t get mad, but he could feel his anger rushing through his veins. It felt good. It was different than feeling someone else's emotions. It was stronger, more than a taste or a smell — he felt alive. He released her arm and backed up.
“Just tell me what you know.” He couldn’t understand what had changed in him, but he wasn’t about to let her see his concerns. He will process it later, away from her criticizing eyes.
Jewel closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. It was probably to make sure she really was sensing his anger and that it wasn’t some kind of fluke.
“Around twenty-seven years ago — perhaps longer, I’m not good with dates — a pregnant woman came to me asking for help. She begged me to do the same for her child that we do for our own. I advised her it was doubtful anything like that could be done. Only vibrants possessed that kind of ability, but she offered a lot of money, who was I to deny her? I gathered my sisters and we performed the ritual. She left as soon as the ritual was completed and I never saw her again. It’s highly unlikely it even worked. The woman was a dreamwalker, I didn’t detect a trace of vibrant blood in her.”
Herrick staggered, feeling lightheaded. Deandra had gone to Jewel for help and Ashtyn had been the unborn child that they practiced on. How did he not know, and why had he gone her entire life without knowing of her existence?
“Is it possible it partially worked? Could the child have been born with normal eyes that changed over time?” He knew his eyes had changed when he reached maturity, the same as any other vibrant, but Ashtyn was twenty-six years old, hers should have changed years ago.
Jewel thought for a moment. “Anything is possible, she was the first. We had no idea how it would turn out. Perhaps a traumatic event is needed for the effect to take hold or a high level of emotion could trigger it. It’s all a guessing game, Herrick. We would have no way of knowing for sure.”
Herrick was pretty sure that finding out you aren’t human and being kidnapped would count as a traumatic event.
“Say the child displays the eye color, could a vibrant perform the final ritual and release the spell.”
Jewel crossed her arms in frustration. “I already told you I don’t know what would happen. If the eye color is permanent and has not switched back to the color of their birth, then, for all intents and purposes, yes, but how much actually comes through could not be known. You are a pure vibrant, everything you were supposed to receive you did. The results may not be the same for the child.”
Herrick had to get back to Ashtyn. She may not believe him or even want to go through with the ritual, but that would be her choice to make. She deserved to know why her eyes changed color and what it could mean for her future.
“Do you know the child of the dreamwalker?”
There was no point in lying. What would it matter to Jewel? She had nothing to gain from that knowledge. Jewel had completed her job, gotten paid and not looked back. Standard protocol for a vibrant. So why wasn’t he doing the same? Why was he so concerned with Ashtyn learning the truth?
“The child is a she, born of the high priestess.”
“Well, if had known I was working for the high priestess I would have asked for more money.”
He wanted to be mad at Jewel for her heartlessness, but he understood. A couple weeks ago they were the same. From the day they parted ways she had never crossed his mind. He didn't wonder is she was doing all right or if she missed having him around. That’s just the way it was. She had fulfilled her purpose to him and he had no need to look back.
“Why are you living here?” He was aware that they agreed not to exchange small talk, but he wanted to know what had led her to her current surroundings.
“About eight years ago I did some business with a dangerous man. Things did not go as planned.”
“You backstabbed him?”
Jewel shrugged. “I saw an opportunity and I took it, if I had known it would lead to my banishment I might have done things differently, but then again I might not.”
“Who was this man who trapped you here?” He knew how capable Jewel was, but someone had managed to take away everything she had built over her life. That could only mean h
e was more powerful than a vibrant. Not many could claim that feat.
“Why? Are you going to avenge me?”
He might, but he would never tell her that. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of letting her believe that he actually cared what happened to her. Plus, what’s another death count if it gets her out of this hell?
“His name is Damon. He’s a powerful wizard and not someone you want to double-cross.”
Herrick’s anger surfaced again. That bastard. Damon had provided him with Jewel’s whereabouts. He knew where she was the entire time. That lowlife is the one who put her here. Did he know who she was to Herrick? He had to be aware of their connection to one another. He was probably using it as leverage to make sure Herrick didn’t stab him in the back like Jewel did. Damon wanted him to see what had happened to her. He wanted Herrick to have a clear picture in his mind of what he is capable of if he were to be challenged, and Herrick had done just that. He told Damon he could kill him. Herrick had put fear into Damon when he made it clear to him that he couldn’t be controlled. When he had asked Damon to locate Jewel, it was a prime opportunity for Damon to put Herrick in his place.
“What were you supposed to do for him?”
“He wanted me to kill someone, but that someone paid more to live.”
“Who? Who did he want you to kill?” With the power Damon possessed, why would he outsource a simple assassination? He was efficient enough to handle that sort of thing on his own.
“A dreamwalker. I don’t have a name but it was clear to me during my reconnaissance work that he had money so I approached him and provided him with options. I could follow through with the original plan or for a substantial amount of money I could be swayed to look the other way. He told me he would double whatever Damon had offered me to just walk away. It was a good offer. I didn’t care who lived or died. If Damon wanted him dead so badly he would find another way. When I got home one of Damon's men was waiting for me. It took me by surprise because I didn’t even think he knew where I lived. He shot me twice in the chest and told me if I lived to go somewhere far away and surround myself by no one. If I came back he would kill me.”
Herrick thought about Ashtyn. He had upset her with his ignorant comment before he left, but he wasn’t too concerned about that. Her emotions tended to waver. What did bother him was how afraid she had been when he told her he was leaving. He wanted her to feel safe and he sure as hell didn’t want anyone putting their hands on her without him there to protect her. That’s why he had killed Grison. He didn’t think twice about it. He lured Grison into the greenhouse and put a dagger in his heart. Grison mildly put up a fight but his abilities were nothing compared with Herrick’s assassin skills. He never even saw it coming. Herrick made sure to look him straight in the eye and tell him what a piece of shit he was before Grison took his last breath. He thought it would ease Ashtyn's mind. She would never have to worry about that scum lurking around the corner again. Thanks to his visit with Jewel, Herrick realized he had severely underestimated Damon and his plight for revenge. Now that Herrick had killed his second-in-command he was fairly certain Damon was not going to take it with a grain of salt.
“The child you did the ritual for, she is a prisoner of Damon,” Herrick explained to Jewel.
“Then take it from me, it’s best not to get involved. Do whatever he hired you to and get out. Don’t look back.”
“I can’t do that, she is innocent. If I leave her behind she will never be free of him.”
Jewel looked at him trying to understand the man in front of her. He was not the Herrick she knew.
“What has happened to you? Herrick, you need to remember who you are, what you are. I don’t know how you are able to feel emotions, but you need to fight it. Emotions will destroy you. There is a reason we are born without them. Don’t turn your back on your heritage.”
Herrick smirked. “You’re one to talk about turning your back on someone. Tell me, Mother, had you ever wondered what became of me?”
Herrick was born of Jewel Connor and Trevor Ingham, a pure-blood vibrant. He was raised just like any other vibrant child. He spent eighteen years being groomed on the history and abilities of vibrants. On his eighteenth birthday his mother had completed the vibrant ritual and passed him off to his father. From there he had been taught everything Trevor knew about fighting and weapons until his father's death six years ago. Herrick did not have a normal childhood. He could not recall an occasion where his mother had tucked him in at night or his father had ever uttered a kind word to him. He was a born killer, and emotions didn’t fit into the equation. He never thought much about it, it’s not like he had wanted a connection with them. They were his teachers, nothing more. Until now, he found himself wondering what it would have been like to have a family, to have someone he could trust who only wanted the best for him. What would it be like to be loved?
“I gave you life. I passed my knowledge onto you so that you could thrive. That is all I was required to do. What else would you have asked from me?”
“That’s just it, Mother, you did just what was required of you, nothing more. Haven't you ever wondered what it would be like to be normal? To feel things?”
Jewel stood and walked over to Herrick, placing her hand on his shoulder.
“I have not, I am a vibrant. I do not want such things and neither should you. I request that you go now. I do not know what has come over you, but you are not my son. No child of mine would be so careless. Forget you found me, forget we ever spoke and never return.”
Herrick nodded and headed toward the door. He did not belong in her world. In Jewel’s eyes she had fulfilled her obligation to him and true to a vibrant there was no going back.
“I remember I was sick once. I had been up all night and I couldn’t keep anything down. You didn’t come to check on me, but I could hear you singing a soothing melody from the kitchen. Your voice put me at ease and allowed me rest. If we are incapable of feelings, why then did you try to comfort me? Perhaps we just have to let it in. We have blocked that part of ourselves for so long we thought it was impossible to possess them. The child you performed the ritual on told me that everyone deserves to know the feeling of love. I think she might be right. I think even you deserve to be loved.”
He didn’t turn around to see her expression. He walked away from his mother for the second time, away from any hope for a different life with her. If Jewel didn’t want to change that was her choice. Maybe he couldn’t either but he knew he wanted to try, and it all started with the girl with the bright teal eyes.
Chapter 10
Cody sat in one of pews of the sanctuary waiting for his mother. He didn’t want to admit it to anyone, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that she might be the spy. Calling her out wouldn’t solve anything. If she were the one working with Damon she would never come clean. He thought about how much she had changed since Avonya fell. When he was a child she was someone he looked up to. A lot of the kids did. She had a brilliant mind and a softness about her that made people gravitate toward her. Everything changed after his sister and father were killed. Bonnie hardened. She lost faith in her people, in the future. Cody had hoped that time would mend her heart and he believed that one day she would again be the mother he desperately loved, but as time went on he too began to lose faith — not in restoring Avonya, but in her.
“Dakota, it’s been a while.”
Bonnie took a seat next to her son but didn’t make eye contact with him.
“I have been preoccupied.”
Cody had hoped Kat kept her word and left Bonnie out of the loop. Everything they had been doing since Ashtyn was taken had been without the council's approval. Granted, two of the council members made up the little rebel group, but if the other three were to find out there would be serious consequences, especially for Ben and Gloria, and the last he wanted was for them to be punished simply for doing the right thing.
“So it would seem. Still looking for our so-call
ed Phoenix?” Bonnie asked with content.
“No need, if she is the savior then fate will bring her back to us.”
He tried to seem sincere in his words but if anyone knew when he was lying it was his mother.
“My son the eternal optimist, and how long do you intend on continuing this fool's quest?”
“What would you have me do, Mother? What is it you wish for our people, for our world?”
Bonnie thought about Sarah; her sweet child, who was taken too soon from their world. Her husband's last words to her ran through her mind. “I will return. I must get Deandra to safety. If she dies we will be lost.” He chose to save the high priestess over his own family. He gave his life for a woman who abandoned her people to protect her own young. Bonnie would never see the honor in that. Elias was wrong and all was lost because he left. She thought about how different her life would have been if he and Sarah had survived. She could have found hope again with them by her side. She still wanted peace for her people, but to imagine a world where she herself could find peace, Bonnie didn’t think she would ever see that day.
“Our world will never be as it once was. That time has passed. We should not have put our faith in one woman. Our greatest failure was believing we were capable of living as one.”
Her voice was harsh as she tried to fight the emotions swirling inside.
“So you wish for the council to be dismantled? For dreamwalkers to scatter in the wind as before?”
