Bound (The Grandor Descendant Series Book 3) (45 page)

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, leaning forwards and resting her lips on his forehead.   

Forcing herself to release Ryder’s body, she looked at James. As she studied his features, she couldn’t believe that it had taken her this long to realise he was her brother. Both had the same long slender nose and high cheek bones, and though James’s hair was a lighter shade of brown, it was thick and luscious, just like Ari’s. In life his eyes had been green, but now one of them had turned blue. He had inherited their father’s green eyes, while Ari had inherited her mother’s blue ones. And yet both their eyes changed colour with their emotion, so that it was almost as if a small part of their parents were alive within each of them.

“I wish…” Ari began to say, but quickly stopped herself. It was too hard for her to list the wishes that she had, but she had to try. “I wish we had more time,” she said, urging herself on, desperate to say all the things she had wanted. “I wish, I wish there was no such thing as the stupid Grandor legend. I wish we were just a normal brother and sister, and had parents, and…”

But her voice trailed off as her sobs became too loud to hide. Slowly she placed her fingertips atop James’s eyelids, closing them gently just as she had for Ryder. Then she leant down and rested her head against her brothers still chest, closing her eyes as she pictured what it might have been like growing up with him and her parents.    

Before long she felt someone reach up and touch her shoulder. The hand was cold and she knew instantly that it belonged to a vampire. She didn’t want to look or speak to anyone. She longed to be left alone with Ryder and James… her brothers. Her eyes were still closed when she heard someone whisper something.

“Ariana,” the voice said, and Ari opened her eyes.

Her eyes widened and she looked down at James’s still chest. His eyes were no longer closed but staring up at her and his hand was rested on her shoulder, icy cold… just like a vampires.

“But, but,” Ari muttered, unable to gather her thoughts. “I thought you were dead?”

As Ari looked at her brother, she realised that he had changed. No longer was there the pink flush to his cheeks that had been there in life, but rather a ghostly pallor had settled across him and Ari knew he was no longer a man; he was a vampire.

“You’re a vampire. But I thought that vampire toxin didn’t work on us? I thought… I thought I lost you,” she said, unable to stop the new wave of sobs which spilled from her. “I thought I lost you again.”

Ragon, who had left the others to stand near Ari, had looked down at James with obvious happiness as he said, “I guess vampire toxin does work differently on Grandor Descendants.” Both James and Ari looked up at him in confusion and he explained, “It normally takes hours for the transformation to occur, not minutes. It’s almost as if you were meant to become immortal.”

James nodded slowly, and as he did so his eyes fell on Ryder.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I never knew… I never even guessed.”

“It’s ok James,” Ari said, helping him to sit up.

She was too revealed, too astounded to think of blaming him for Ryder’s death. It had been the Ancients who had killed Ryder. It had been James who had saved them.

“Don’t call me that,” he said gruffly, his eyes hardening.

“Jamie then,” Ari said, a small smile spreading across her face, instantly mirrored by her brother.

Chapter 22- Fallen Friend
              

Three days had passed since the Ancients attack and life for the coven had changed forever.

All the vampires who had been under the control of the Ancients and their blood candy had been killed; their bodies either bloodless at Chris’s hands or else burnt beyond recognition by Ari. Only the piles of ash in the Farm were relic of the battle that had occurred there. The battle which had claimed so many lives… both foe and friend. 

Lea had seen to it that the missing student enrolled in the BC programme had awoken. Most of them were transferred to the Pasteur Hospital to recover. When they woke from their coma, they were groggy but not injured, and fortunately without memory of what had happened to them since their capture.  

At Ari’s request, Ragon had helped Jamie settle into vampire life, teaching him how to hunt and control his thirst around mortals. For a fledgling his ability to control himself around humans was remarkable. Though he desired blood, the thirst did not control him, and he adapted to vampirism almost overnight.

Riley and Clyde had gone back to Ragon’s estate, wanting a quiet life as they adjusted to parenthood. They still had no idea whether Rya would be a vampire, waere or human. On the outside she looked entirely mortal, but there was an unnatural presence and beauty about her that no human child should have at her age. And unlike other babies, two small canines had erupted from her top mouth, though thankfully she drank milk and not blood. Neither had seen any indication of Rya shifting into an animal yet, though Riley had said her waere magic did not take hold until adolescence. Sandra and Thomas had left with them. Ari thought that the birth of the first immortal child had brought out a maternal instinct in Sandra which had been neglected for the past few hundred years.

This had left Ari to plan Ryder’s funeral. Ragon had tried valiantly to locate Patrick, and Ari had even asked Lea to use her magic, but as Lea had feared, her scribing spell did not work on vampires, and so the coven had hoped that the news of the Ancient’s demise would reach Patrick, wherever he was, so that he might too be able to attend the funeral of his fledgling.

The night before the funeral Ari, Ragon, Chris, Lea and Jamie had travelled back to Ragon’s home in mainland England. Ragon had offered to lay Ryder to rest at the cemetery located in the grounds on his family estate. Ragon’s entire family, except his mother, whose ashes he had taken with him to Australia, had been buried at the Young family cemetery. It wasn’t a small cemetery, as might have been expected, but grand, with large mausoleums for each deceased family member and intricately carved stone angels that hung along the gates to the graveyard, as if keeping watch over the souls beneath their hollow ground.

The morning of the funeral, Ryder’s parents had flown into England. Ryder’s mum was originally from England and so most her side of the family made the journey to Ragon’s estate also. Ari couldn’t make eye contact with the temporary parents who had given her up. It was hard for her to hug them and tell them how sorry she was, not without feeling an odd sense of disappointment and guilt.

As the funeral goers arrived, Bramond, the old man who tended the Young estate, directed them to the cemetery. He alone seemed happy; the return of his master had given him an unnatural glow which he failed to hide from the rest of the mourners.   

Ragon had commissioned a large white marble tomb to be made for Ryder. Atop it was the image of a male angel. His large wings were furled outwards, and he was crouching down on one knee, looking up at the sky. It was only when Ari stared at the statue, that she realised that the face of the angel was carved to resemble Patrick.

“It’s beautiful… Ryder would have loved that,” Ari mumbled, squeezing tightly onto Ragon’s hand before bursting into tears.      

All through the service Ari cried. She tried hard to weep silently on Ragon’s shoulder, feeling undeserving of the grief that taunted her. Though Ragon provided enough support, she would have liked to have had her brother there also. Jamie had not attended the service. Being a newly made fledgling, he had not wanted to risk being around humans just yet, and so had remained in the house. It was odd that after so long a time separated and all that they had been through, Ari felt such a strong pull towards her brother. There were still gaping holes in his past, holes that Ari suspected he wasn’t ready to talk about yet, but the pair had bonded almost instantly.

When finally Ryder’s casket was lowered into the ground in front of the tomb, Ari stopped crying. In true English fashion, the rain had begun to pool in the heavens and cascade over the mourners, as if mocking their tears. Clyde stood next to Riley who was nursing Rya, holding a large black umbrella over the pair, shielding them from the rain while letting himself get soaked, apparently too desperate to ensure they remained untouched by the weather. Thomas had offered to act as the priest, which given his Christian background, Ari thought was fitting.

“I commit you to the earth my son,” Thomas said, reaching for some muddy soil and sprinkling it atop the casket.

This action was mimicked by the rest of the mourners. Ari watched as one by one, each of Ryder’s family threw earth or flowers into the grave. Then the coven members said their goodbyes and soon it was only Ari and Ryder’s parents left. Ari walked slowly up to Ryder’s grave and knelt down. The grass was wet, cushioning her knees as the water soaked through her black dress. Slowly she reached into her coat and retrieved something. For a moment she stared at the torn and folded photograph she had of the coven. Her eyes glided past Larissa and Cambridge and rested on Ryder. He was grinning in the image, his large dimples standing out drastically as he held hands with Patrick.

“Forever my family,” Ari whispered, letting the image catch with the wind and gently fall down onto the casket, where the first brother she had ever known now lay. “Forever my brother.”

After that Ari stood and made to move back to the house, where the wake was being held. As she did so, her eyes fell on the silhouette of someone standing in the shadows of the freshly built tomb. She squinted at them, trying desperately to see past the thick rain droplets that were clinging onto her eyelashes. Soon her eyes widened in realisation; it was Patrick. Instantly she raced over to him, glancing once at Ryder’s parents, who were hugging each other in front of the grave, unaware of Patrick’s presence.  

“Patrick,” Ari whispered, careful not to be heard.

“Hello Ari,” said Patrick, moving to tip his hat, so that a thick stream of water filled the gap between them.

“Are you ok?” she asked, reaching a hand out to touch his shoulder kindly.

“I heard about what happened at the Pasteur Institute. I can’t believe that the Ancients tried to take over! But I guess, in a way its good. Now that they are dead, there is chaos amongst the Elders. I think it will be safe for me to return; a rogue blood hunter is the last thing they will be concerned with right now. As usual, it looks like Ryder was right about me. I haven’t attacked anyone yet. Is he very mad at me? Well, he should forgive me now that I can be with him. Ragon certainly has put on a show of his funeral. We always said that he would have a funeral over here. Ryder is doing such a good job of pretending to be dead. I guess he wanted to go all out. Even your grief looks real.”

Instantly Ari’s heart broke; Patrick didn’t know that Ryder was dead.

“I think I can keep the curse under control,” Patrick added. “That’s if Ryder will have me again… I don’t know what I would do without him. I was so stupid.”

There was a small smile that spread across Patrick’s lips at these words, but it was quickly stifled by the look of horror on Ari’s face.

“Ari, what’s wrong?” he asked, now looking from her and over to where Ryder’s parents retreating backs were walking towards the house.

“Patrick, when we were battling against the Ancients… Lace, she…”

“She what?” said Patrick, now moving over to Ryder’s grave, a disbelieving look on his face.

“I’m so sorry.”

But Patrick was no longer listening. He had jumped into the freshly dug earth of Ryder’s grave, and was just about to force the casket open, when someone jumped down next to him.

“Patrick don’t!” said Ragon, reaching for Patrick’s hand and trying to pull him away. “You don’t need to see him like this.”

“Don’t touch me!” Patrick screamed, and his eyes were alight with malice and hatred. “Get away. It’s not true… it can’t be.”

Ari watched in horror as Patrick threw his shoulder into Ragon’s body, throwing Ragon out of the grave and onto the grass above. Whether Patrick liked it or not, he was a blood hunter and that made him stronger than most vampires. If he wanted to, he could easily kill Ragon.   

“Please, Ryder wouldn’t want you to remember him like this,” said Ari, just as a new wave of tears began to spoil her face.

At these words Patrick hung his head. For a moment he remained with his outstretched hand against the marble of the casket, and then he jumped out of the hole and raced away. Ari and Ragon saw him pause atop a hill, just as a loud scream rolled down to where they stood. It was a cry filled with a lifetime of grief.          

“I’m going to go after him,” said Ragon, making to move in the direction Patrick had taken.

“Wait,” said Ari, reaching for Ragon and holding onto his hand. “He’s mourning; let him be.”

Ari knew that nothing would take away Patrick’s heart ache. Losing someone that you loved would always hurt, and that pain would not go away, no matter how many people tried to make you forget. As she held tightly to Ragon’s hand, she wondered whether holding Ragon back was the right thing to do, but then she thought that if the roles had of been reversed, she would have wanted to be alone. Only time would heal the hole left in Patrick’s heart.

Slowly Ari and Ragon began to make their way back towards the large house, where the rest of the mourners were gathered for the wake. The rain was spilling down harder than ever and thick curls of fog pushed out from Ari’s warm lips, filling the air momentarily before dispersing into nothingness.