Grey Eyes (Book One, The Forever Trilogy)

by Brandon Alston

  Chapter 18

  Boston

  Dr. Roberts decided that on second thought, it would probably be more convincing if he called with the news.  I stayed with my mother while he did so, and found my eyes getting wet once more, only this time they were happy tears.  Just in the short time since I last looked, the venom had retreated from her opposite arm and shoulders.

  Once Dr. Roberts finished with the phone call, I went out to the waiting room with Darren to wait for my grandmother’s arrival.  Even though he tried to hide it, I could tell that my being a “conjurer” changed how he saw me.  To be honest, those feelings I felt for Tristan made me a little uneasy around him. 

  “I brought these for you. Guess you don’t need them, huh?”  He pulled a box of cards from underneath one of the chairs.  I couldn’t tell from his voice whether he was angry or just genuinely wanted me to have them.  When he pulled his from the top of the pile, I knew it was the latter.

  It was a bright red card with a heart on the front, a Valentine’s Day card really, but the inside of the flaps were empty, and he’d used the space to write his own message.

  Dear Ana,

  I know that we haven’t known each other long,

  but I wanted you to know that you have me if you need me.

  I’m not good with telling girls how I feel,

  go figure, but when I write it seems to flow,

  so I’m hoping I’m making myself clear.

  I feel really close to you for some reason,

  ever since I first saw you peeking down the stairs.

  It’s like my granddad used to say,

  “you know when someone special comes into your life,

  you just feel it.”  I felt it Ana.

  I know this is horrible timing with what’s going on with your mother and all

  but I need you to know that I’m here if you need to talk.

  Or if you need to get away for a while.

  Or if you just need to punch something (you’re pretty scrawny so I’m sure I can take it). 

  I can back off if you need me to, too.  I can give you space.

  I’ll wait as long as it takes.  I know how this sounds

  given we’ve known each other for like a couple of days, and we promised “no pressure,”

  but honestly I can’t stop thinking about you,

  and I just wanted you to know that I’m here.

   

  P.S.  I sold the truck and donated the money.

  I know I can only drive one at a time,

  but I’m having a hard time deciding between the Beamer and the Porsche.

  But hey, it’s a start right?

  -Darren

  Whatever awkwardness I was sensing before, vanished the instant my eyes returned to his face.  There was no worry or humiliation there; he’d meant every word he’d written and wanted me to know it.  That nervous excitement that sent my heart racing the last time I was with him returned, and though it wasn’t the intense longing, I felt for Tristan, it was still very real.  I leaned over in my chair for a hug and he wrapped one of those strong arms around me.  I realized that I felt safe there.  He could really be my soft place to fall. 

  Next, Darren pulled out a folded piece of notebook paper and handed it to me.  Taylor wasn’t in the loop like the witches and warlocks who’d sent cards were, and had hastily written down a “Hope your mom gets better!  Miss You Much!” note with her phone number.  He said that he’d told her my mother had gotten sick overnight and that I’d chosen to stay with her.  It was as honest as he could be.  I smiled at her thoughtfulness and stuck her note into my pocket.

  We spent the next twenty minutes going through cards from people I didn’t know.  There were a few exceptions in that Nathan, Duncan’s grandson, and Aspen, my preteen make-up artist, had both sent something along.  Darren was visibly upset when I asked if London had sent anything.  He attributed her lack of a card to her being upset that the two of us were close.  He said it was low, even for her, and that she never even tried to get to know me before deciding to hate me.  Apparently, Darren was one of the people London’s “hating me” act was meant for.  I didn’t blow our cover, but it did feel wrong to be less than honest with him when he had practically bared his soul to me. 

  When my grandmother finally did arrive, it was with a crowd.  Most of the women who’d sat with her at my welcome party, some council they’d said, were with her now, with the addition of a slightly younger lady who I didn’t remember meeting.  Though Dr. Roberts had called with good news, each of the women looked anxious, and spoke amongst themselves in hushed voices.  They were so involved in whatever they were discussing in fact, that none of them noticed Darren and I sitting just a few feet from where they were standing.  It was Darren who got their attention.

  “It’s true, Nana. Dr. Roberts brought her back.”  He smiled his bright smile and added just the right amount of awe to his voice.  Then again, the awe part might have been genuine.  I smiled with him.

  Silence fell over the women and his grandmother stepped forward.  She seemed torn at first, unsure whether to join the excitement on our side of the waiting room or to fall back into the cloud of skepticism the other women made up.  The former won out.  She dived toward us, wrapping the both of us up in a giant bear hug. 

  “It’s a miracle!” she shouted.  

  I found my own grandmother in the group.  Darren’s grandmother’s defection had shaken her, and for just a moment it seemed like she might let herself believe, but that spark fizzled quickly once the younger woman whispered something into her ear. 

  “Let’s see for ourselves this cure,” she announced, stepping determinedly toward the examination rooms.  Darren’s grandmother stood up and joined them, but turned to wink at us before following the others into the hall.

  Feeling myself become anxious, I had stood up to follow when I felt Darren take hold of my wrist. 

  “Don’t,” he said.  His voice dropped to a whisper.  “Dr. Roberts will have a hard enough time as it is trying to pull this off without having to worry what you’ll say when they ask you something.  And they will.  The Elder Witches are good at getting people to say something they don’t mean to.  When you break one of our laws, they are what serves as a jury.  Just remember, we don’t know how it happened.  If they ask you something when they get back, shrug and say you’re just glad your mother’s alright.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got some practice with this kind of thing,” I said with a small smile.

  He smiled awkwardly.  “I’m pretty good at getting out of trouble.”

  Just then, Duncan stormed into the clinic looking furious.  He turned to me with eyes so severe that I was sure I would have confessed had he spoken a word to me.  Luckily, he didn’t, and stomped off behind the others.

  Darren put his hand over mine.  “It’ll be alright, Ana.  Just breathe.” 

  “What happened to Gregori?” I asked out of the blue.

  “Huh?” The question caught him off guard. 

  “You said that they still tell stories about what happened to him.”

  “You really wanna hear about that now?”

  I nodded.

  “Uh, well he was like you,” Darren dropped his voice to a whisper, “a conjurer.”  He’s your ancestor in fact.  No one knows what his ability was— just that he used it to control the royal family in Russia.  People didn’t like it that they gave him so much power, but he wasn’t breaking any laws so there was nothing anyone could do.  Well, one night he let himself get drunk and used black—I mean, unnatural magic in front of other warlocks.  They tied him up and then did the “tests.”  Once they’d confirmed that he was a conjurer, they tortured him… It was bad, I won’t go into detail, but when they found his body, it wasn’t in good shape.  We’re all told about it when we’re kids, as a scary bedtime story or whatever—every night his ghost supposedly picks out a different victim to torture as reven
ge.  That part’s fake, but what happened to Gregori is historical fact.  I guess the story’s just to teach us to be afraid of conjurers.”

  I wished I’d kept my mouth shut.  If I was anxious before, then I was terrified now.  Hearing that people were afraid of someone who could read minds was understandable, hearing what that fear had made them do….

  “But I won’t let that happen to you,” he said touching my hand again.  His touch had sent a wave of warmth through me.  It was reassuring. 

  The door leading back to the examination rooms burst open.  My heart skipped a beat. 

  This time it was my grandmother who was rushing over to us.  Elation sparkled in her eyes and she wrapped her arms around me.  “It truly is a miracle!” 

  The relief I was experiencing was so great that I found myself laughing.  The other women followed my grandmother’s lead—each came over separately, expressing their how happy they were for us.  However, while most of them were content with a hug or a gentle rub on my back, Darren’s grandmother wasn’t satisfied until she planted two big kisses on both my cheeks.  I saw Dr. Roberts step out into waiting room next, and while not very obvious to most of the people in the waiting area, I could tell that he was just as relieved to have pulled this off.  Unfortunately, the next face I saw made me swallow so hard that I began to cough.

  Duncan eyed me closely as he perched himself in the doorway.  There was no joy in his face, and his eyes bore into me with such fierceness that there was little doubt in my mind that he knew.  My eyes shot over to Darren and I saw that he’d noticed Duncan’s accusing eyes too.  He looked worried.