Few Are Angels (3 page)

“C’mon, Mom. Please? I really want to go.” Lea leaned back in her chair and sulked.

Sarah gave her a look of disapproval and continued to eat quietly.

Lea looked as if someone had kicked her dog, and that someone was me. She bowed her head, obscuring her face with golden waves of hair. I wanted to tell Sarah that they should do everything they’d do if I wasn’t there and not to treat me like an invalid who couldn’t be left alone.

I pulled my mind back to the conversation, willing my brain to work properly. “I think that’s a good idea. You guys could use the vacation.” Using all of the false excitement that I had allotted for the rest of the night, I smiled and hoped it would be enough.

Sarah looked up and smiled, but I could see the skepticism on her face. I wondered if she was worried about me or worried about the memories the lodge would bring back. “Maybe,” she whispered.

Had I known that bringing up Alex would put everyone in a worse mood, I would have just kept my mouth shut. We finished dinner in silence, and I headed upstairs to my room. I lay on the bed and wondered how long it would take for them to start hating me and all my baggage. I was an intrusion in their home and I didn't want to stay and disrupt their lives any longer. Eric was spending a good deal of time away from home so that he wouldn’t have to see me. I was a constant reminder of the best friend he’d lost.

Eric and my father had met because of the two women they’d married, but they became friends on their own through common interests. Golf was an every-other-weekend event with the two of them when we all lived in Virginia Beach. My mother and Sarah used golf weekends as an excuse for girl time. The memories kept pouring out of the vault in my brain that I’d had spent so much time trying to keep locked up tight. There had to be a way to stop remembering.

An hour later, I heard Eric’s SUV pull into the garage. I mentally followed his nightly routine as he moved throughout the house, making certain noises in each room he entered. It was the same every night: the front door closing, the footsteps up the stairs to the bathroom, then back down to the kitchen to reheat supper. Sarah usually joined him in his office if she wasn’t helping Lea with homework or putting her to bed. I sat in my room, wishing the past didn't exist.

Max scratched at the bedroom door, and I got up to let him in. He had the same look on his face as he did the previous night. As much as I wanted to go outside to see what he’d killed, I decided it would be better if Sarah let him out.

Downstairs, Sarah and Lea were perched together on the couch, watching a TV show on the Disney channel. The animated yellow blob on the screen was yelling at a friend about his ripped pants. Lea and Sarah were mid-laugh when I interrupted them.

“Sarah, I think Max needs to go out.” I made my way to the other sofa and sat down. Max followed suit, planting himself in front of me. I pulled my feet up and pushed them under me for extra warmth.

Sarah looked at me, then at Max. I could see the apprehension plastered over her face. She was torn between asking me to take out Max or doing it herself and interrupting mother-daughter time. She might have been worried that she’d have to get Eric to come and find my frozen corpse from the snow.

“I can do it if you want,” I said. I stood to head upstairs to get dressed in my snow gear.

When Sarah started to move off the couch, I shooed her and told her I’d be back in a few minutes. Sarah sat back down and continued to watch TV with Lea, who hadn’t paid attention to our conversation and was still laughing at the TV program.

I rushed up the stairs and dressed as quickly as I could. I worried that if I took long, Sarah would take the dog out herself. If I was going to pull off this “normal” girl routine, I would have to try harder.

Once Max and I were outside, I made my way toward the shed. The snow crunched beneath my feet, and the noise echoed in my ears and dominated any other sounds. Max was already by the shed, so I picked up the pace to stop him from getting into whatever he had killed the previous night. Once I was around the corner, it was much darker, and my eyes had a hard time adjusting. But my ears worked well enough to hear the noise that came from inside the shed. I suppressed a shiver of fear and turned toward the sound.

On the other side on the shed, I could see the house in full view. The lights were still on in the living room where Sarah and Lea watched TV. I had to be quick or she would send Eric out to get me. I moved farther behind the shed and got on my tiptoes to look inside one of the two windows that lined the back of the shed. I was five-foot, six-inches tall, but I couldn’t see inside. It didn’t help that frost, dirt, and snow blocked my view. I looked around for something to stand on and heard the noise again.

I went still and held my breath so that it was completely silent around me.
Ssst, ssst
. I heard the noise again. It sounded as if something was scooting across the floor inside the shed. I thought about running to the house and telling Eric that there was some sort of creature in his shed. But then I remembered the blood on Max’s muzzle, and I worried about the poor creature that was probably inside, hurt and freezing to death. I looked around, wondering where Max was. I still couldn't see that well behind the shed because the front porch light didn’t reach that far.

I heard the faint sound of snow crunching beneath what I hoped was Max’s feet behind the winter-frozen bushes to my right. When I looked up, Max’s tail was waving eagerly at me as he sniffed behind the barren bushes. I turned my attention back to the shed and pressed my ear to its frozen side. I couldn’t get in the door because it was locked. The windows were too high and large for me to open on my own, but one was open just enough that I could get my fingers under it to pry it open.

“What are you doing?” Eric asked.

I whirled around and nearly stumbled. Eric’s dark gaze and Max’s pale eyes stared back at me with concern. “I thought maybe you needed me to come get you again. I’m glad you didn't. That was scary.”

I struggled to catch my breath after the shock of Eric’s appearance. I wondered if he was going to tell me I’d been out here for an hour again.

“What are you looking for in there?” He moved past me to the shed window. As he peeked into the frosted glass, I moved aside to make room.

I wondered if I should tell him that the last time I was out there with Max I had felt a strange pull to the shed. No, I didn’t even want to admit that to myself, nor did I want to be scrutinized under Eric’s hypnotic stare. I opted for the watered-down version.

“Last night when I let Max out, I think he injured something, like a bunny or a squirrel.” I pointed at the shed. “I think it got in there.”

Eric looked at me closely. I could tell he was weighing his options, thinking about what I said.

I tried to suppress another shudder as a stiff cold breeze struck me in the face and ruffled my hair. We stood there in silence for several long moments. He didn’t look at me as if I were broken. He stared right at me. It felt bizarre to have him look at me and not be able to tell what he was thinking. It disturbed me, and I felt exposed under his stare. Did Eric see the true stranger that I’d become? Did he see that there was no fixing me?

“Let’s go inside, Ella. It’s late and freezing out here.” He walked toward the house. I followed, but not too close. His silence spoke volumes, and I wondered if he had finally realized that it had been a mistake to invite me to live with his family.

Chapter 3

Absence diminishes mediocre passions and increases great ones, as the wind extinguishes candles and fans fires. —Francois de la Rochefoucauld

The soil is wet and soft beneath me. It accepts me into its welcoming embrace. The only comfort I will find here is in this damp earth. The screams and silent prayers swarm, burning my ears, and I know that I am being watched. I can feel the diseased vampire’s stare. I shudder, not from fear, but from disgust and shame. I am braver now, braver than I have been in the few days that he’s kept me here in this prison. The knowledge of my death tonight soothes and reassures me that he could never use me again. Villages had been burned to the ground because of me, countries torn apart, men captured and tortured. Women and children were without their husbands and fathers because of me and my sight, or my gift as he calls it. It had taken everything from me: my home, my family, even my ability to picture a life without pain and suffering.

Rats no longer reside here. The sickly sweet stench of death and sorrow is more than they can bear. The smell drifts to my nose, taking residence in the back of my throat. I don’t retch or even try to escape it. I deserve to lay here and wait for my death as many others have—all because of me.

My true regret was that I couldn’t save Kale; they killed him. I knew it. I could feel it. Why would they let him live? There was nowhere for us to run they couldn't find. I had no understanding of how they could find us, but they could. There was supposedly a bond that kept Laurent and I linked, but I could feel no connection to anyone other than Kale. I try to picture his face, his smooth tan skin, sharp features, and soft lips, but all I can see is how they beat it bloody and swollen. I caused so much pain in the lives of others, but I couldn’t bring myself to end my own. I was a coward, but that would be taken care of for me very soon. In a way, I had taken my own life by pretending I no longer had second sight, that my ability was gone because I was no longer pure. I knew that would result in my death.

The screams and whispered prayers stop and I know it is because he is here. The Dark Prince, Laurent, had come to take me. I hear his boots as he moves toward my cell and the unmistakable scrape of his left foot, injured in battle long before he was granted immortality. The scent of ash and death follows him, a fingerprint I alone I can decipher.

“Child, you most know that this is for your own good.” His voice sounds like a hissing snake.

I once found his accent charming, but now it reminds me of what a naïve child I was to have ever believed a word from his mouth. I’m glad I’m in a cell because it stops him from touching me and turning my skin turn to ice. He disgusts me, and my body will never allow me forget it.

“You haven’t served your purpose, and you have allowed that peasant boy to defile you, taking from you the gift. I hope he knows he is the reason for your death tonight.” He paces back and forth in front of my cell.

I lie in the dirt and pretend his words about my love don’t hurt, but they slice me like the ice cold winds of winter. It takes all of the power I have left to lie there quietly and not remind him of the promises he has not kept. Laurent speaks of betrayal as though he is innocent of it. He speaks of one serving their purpose to him as though all he has asked for were simple favors. Laurent knows what Kale meant to me and it means nothing to him to use that against me tonight, but his words startle me. He speaks of Kale as if he is still alive, but that cannot be possible, can it? I’m not facing him. I fear he will see my relief at the chance that Kale still lives.

“I never wanted this to happen, mon amour. You simply leave me no choice.”

His faux repentance makes my stomach turn, and I want more than anything for him to leave. To my relief and dismay, I hear the distant sounds of boots pounding the mortared hallway. From the cries and pleading of the other prisoners, I know the Death Bringer is coming to my cell. I often wondered what the Dark Prince had offered the Death Bringer to compel him to do his bidding. Death Bringers were powerful and could rarely ever be controlled. They couldn’t be bribed or bartered with. They wanted nothing other than one’s life force. Laurent lets go of the bars and moves away from my cell. He wipes his hands on the shirt of the vampire guard beside him and motions for the Death Bringer to enter.

“Take her.” His voice lacks the forced remorse it once held and is now full of hatred and revulsion.

The rusted bars of my cell moan as the Death Bringer opens them and their sad song plays as I am pulled to my feet and yanked from my cage. We walk down the stone hallway and I keep my head down, knowing I wouldn’t get any pity from the lost souls in these cages. I was the reason they were all here. My sight, this “gift,” placed them here to wait for their death.

“Quickly, I want to get this done so we can start the search for the next Arc,” Laurent said.

My gift afforded me the ability to know when and where the next Arc would be born. I didn't want to subject her to a fate such as mine, but I had to tell Laurent something. He called up the memory, and I was helpless to do anything. I was dragged into the vision where a girl was born to a family who had lost all hope of ever bearing a child. My fear for her safety was ever growing since then, but all I could do was pray she’d be stronger than me and could resist Laurent’s lies and charm.

We walk for what seems to be hours. My legs burn from the constant incline and the Death Bringer’s ability to walk without rest. The grass is frozen beneath my bare feet, and it burns and blisters me. As we enter the castle’s side entrance, Laurent instructs his guards that I am to be blindfolded and bound. I don’t dare struggle or protest. Of all the things that happened to me today, this would be the least painful. My hands are bound so tight that my fingers grow numb and my eyes are covered by an old rag that smells of death and vomit. I suppress the urge to gag.

I have no idea where we are in the castle. I lived here for only a few months before I was able to escape with Kale, and being blindfolded doesn't help. We finally stop and I can smell the expensive scent of body oils only the rich can afford, and I know there is an audience here. Laurent is nothing if not theatrical. He wants his followers to witness this so they will fear him. Who wouldn’t fear man that would slaughter his own daughter in cold blood?

But one person in the audience will never follow Laurent; he would fight against Laurent’s men with a thirst that rivaled my own need to save others, even though it meant my death. His voice sends me to my knees. A short while ago, I was numb to everything around me. I was ready to die because I knew my death would save others from a fate far worse than mine, but as soon as I hear his voice, my heart melts and my stomach plummets.