Lucky for her, John Abernathy wasn’t one to pry. “Too busy with work and school, huh?”
“Yeah,” she answered. “Totally.” Darcie absolutely hated lying to her dad, but she really didn’t have a choice. All of the professor’s red flags would be raised if she told him that she dropped her spring classes. She had pushed too hard for the ability to enroll. He would immediately know something was wrong.
The day Darcie decided to return to the brothers’ home, she knew she would have to give up on her goal of getting a head start on her advanced education. But when it came down to staying in Maine and taking classes or surviving long enough to actually get the chance to finish a future degree, Darcie chose the survival route.
“Good thing you broke up with Kevin,” her dad said, effectively pulling her out of the disappointing thoughts. “He would have only distracted you.”
Darcie shook her head. Her dad was not subtle when his daughter told him about her first breakup. After making sure she was okay, John Abernathy did not hide his happiness or approval of her decision to end things with her childhood friend.
If only her dad knew the true reason behind Darcie’s decision to break up with Kevin–how her life was basically in danger every day until the alliance captured Adir and ended the rebellion–the man might have actually preferred his daughter stay with her safe and predictable boyfriend.
“You’re probably right, Dad,” was all she said in response.
The man chuckled, more to himself than to her. Darcie did not say anything, letting him feel triumphant that he got his wish regarding her relationship with Kevin. He was not a fan of it from the beginning.
“So, do you think you can get time off for your birthday next week? I was thinking we could travel down to Boston. Or maybe even over to New York. Something fun for your eighteenth birthday.”
A trip to either city sounded like so much fun. Darcie wanted to say yes so badly, but there was the whole problem of a group of immortal and mythical beings seeking her out to use against the good-guys.
“I don’t know,” she tried to sound disappointed, but firm. “I’ll have to see. The café has been swamped lately, and we do not have enough employees. They might need me.” The lies rolled effortlessly off her tongue. If she didn’t feel so guilty, Darcie might have actually been impressed with herself.
“They can spare you for a day,” he replied.
“I’m not sure. I’ll ask and let you know.”
Maybe I’ll beg Alex to come with me for a few days.
Darcie immediately frowned, remembering the vampire’s rude behavior earlier.
I’ll ask someone else.
She heard her dad’s resigned sigh on the other end of the line. “Even if you can’t celebrate on the actual day, we can do something later. I think I’m going to stay in Maine for a bit once I come back.”
Darcie pushed herself off the mattress and into a sitting position. “You won’t go back to Italy after my birthday?”
That could be a problem.
“Probably not. I can’t really explain it, but I feel like I need to be home with you. I don’t know… maybe it’s because you will be leaving in the fall. I’m growing soft in my old age.”
Darcie’s lips turned up as she listened to her dad ramble. “How about we don’t make any plans yet. Let me talk to my manager, and I will call you back when I have an answer.”
She held her breath as she waited for her father’s response.
Please, she silently urged. Just agree to not do anything just yet.
After a lengthy pause, he finally agreed. “Alright. But I want you to do your best to get the day off, Darcie. You work hard and deserve a break.”
She swallowed. “I will.” The words tried to stick in her throat. “I promise.”
Fortunately for Darcie and her pressing guilt, she did not need to lie much more during the rest of their conversation. The pair ended the call minutes later when a colleague called her father back into the library.
“What am I going to do?” she asked the empty room. Getting someone to agree to guard her for a visit would be difficult, but convincing the alliance to allow her to return to Maine was impossible. She knew there was no way any of the powerful immortals would agree to it, but her dad seemed adamant about returning home to be with her.
Darcie’s heart sank as she realized there was only one thing that could be done. She would have to ask Des to alter her father’s intentions –to change his desire to return to Maine.
The decision pained her. She hated when the immortals messed with her loved-ones’ memories, but there was no other option. If she told her dad she was in Greece, she would not be able to keep him from wanting to see her. Then, her efforts to keep him out of the mess would have all been in vain.
Darcie groaned, her head beginning to ache from the circling thoughts and depressing emotions. She had called her dad to distract herself from pain, but doing so only seemed to cause new problems.
I should go ask Des to get it over with. The sooner her dad no longer wanted to go to Maine to see her, the better.
Darcie stood up to complete the task when she found herself hesitating by the door. She pulled back her outstretched hand and winced as memories of their previous encounter came to the front of her mind. She’d reacted poorly to Des’ admission. She’d suspected that whatever connection was between them allowed for some type of communication, but to learn Des was able to discern much more than things she intentionally shouted at him was mortifying.
Succumbing to her cowardice, she decided the request could wait. She needed more time to gather herself before facing Des again.
Her mind begged for more distractions, but Darcie knew there was no one else she could call to talk to. Marie, her childhood best friend, was currently furious with her for breaking up with her brother. Darcie longed to reach out and try to fix their strained relationship, but she doubted Marie was ready to move on just yet. And there was no way she was going to call Kevin…
Realizing she would have to leave the room if she wanted the distraction of communication, but also knowing her current state urged her to remain dormant in the bedroom, Darcie decided she would force herself to take a nap, hoping the oblivion of sleep would allow for her mind to rest and her body to conquer the lingering pain from the morning’s struggle.
Darcie carefully crawled into bed and burrowed underneath the blankets, not bothering to change into pajamas. Apparently, sleep was just what her body craved. Within minutes, the teenager fell into a deep sleep.
9
It may have been uninterrupted by visions or nightmares, but Darcie’s sleep was anything but restful.
The pain that had been building did not subside. In fact, the sensations increased to an agonizing level until she was finally roused from the midday nap. Darcie could feel the stabs and twists throughout her entire body, and it only got worse with every passing second.
However, despite being conscious, Darcie was unable to open her eyes.
She was awake. She knew that for a fact. The sounds of the quiet room were familiar and the fabric against her skin was recognizable. However, despite being conscious, she was unable to open her eyes. But her eyes remained closed in darkness.
That’s not to say her eyes were too heavy, and they wanted to stay closed. Darcie legitimately could not force her eyelids open. She tried to lift a hand to rub them, but found out that she could not perform that task either.
What the hell is going on?
Darcie’s heart began to race. Sweat dampened her shirt as she continued to strain against the unknown force keeping her paralyzed.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry out for help. Her lips remained closed; she could not even press them together into a firm line. Darcie had absolutely zero control of her body even though she had access to her mind.
Unwillingly, the night she spent in Adir’s stronghold came to mind. The immortal had managed to put her in some kind of waking sleep. When
Des and Bella arrived to rescue her, Darcie could hear them but was unable to signal her consciousness.
But no one has been near me, she reasoned. And I wasn’t in pain when that happened.
Darcie could not explain how she knew it, but this situation was different. Her state was not due to some unique and deranged spell cast by an enemy. Whatever was happening to her centered around the bone-chilling and blood-curling agony seeping into every cell of her body.
Calm down. Darcie willed herself to stop freaking out. She knew it wouldn’t do any good.
Just when she was seconds away from successfully reducing her heartrate, a fresh crack hit her square in the chest, effectively knocking the wind out of her despite its non-physical impact.
I can’t breathe! Her head screamed out. I can’t breathe!
Through the torture, she heard the bedroom door crash open and loud footsteps moved across the floorboards. “Darcie!”
If she could have, Darcie would have collapsed in relief when she heard Des’ frantic call. As it was, another ache withered through her bones. She wanted to weep.
“Darcie,” Des said again, this time from much closer. She barely felt the bed sink through the distracting agony as he leaned over and wrapped his fingers around her shoulders.
The normally invigorating contact was anything but pleasant as Des shook her body. Every inch of her screamed in protest. Hot, salty tears hit her lips. It was only then that Darcie realized she was crying. With each shake of her shoulders, the streams of water increased as they slid down her cheeks.
“It’s okay,” Des said as he wrapped his arms around her, giving up on trying to wake her. He raised her into a sitting position. His forearm felt like it bruised her back. “I know you’re in there. It’s going to be okay, Darcie. I promise.”
The heartfelt words sent a fresh wave of tears streaming down her face. Her body was shaking, but the movement was involuntary. Her body was physically rebelling against the attack wreaking havoc from within.
Des tightened his hold. “It’s okay.” Then, she felt him turn his head towards the door and heard him release an urgent shout.
Within moments, footsteps approached the door. “What in the he–”
“Lome,” Des cut off his brother’s curse. “Get a healer. Get Henry. Something is wrong with Darcie.”
The paralyzed teen did not hear another word as Lome left to immediately complete the tasks.
A warm, calloused hand brushed aside the hair sticking to her face. She felt Des exhale against her wet cheeks. Though she couldn’t open her eyes, Darcie knew he was watching her. The trail of his gaze seemed to spark against her skin. But just as soon as she felt the pleasant sensation, it was erased by a new stab, twist, or bolt of pain.
Des murmured something, but she was too distracted by the pricks hitting her feet to hear what he said. Before she knew what was happening, Des’ lips landed on her brow. His kiss traveled all over her face, their motion filled with tenderness. Despite the gentle ministrations, each subtle change in pressure elicited horrible flames across her sensitive skin. She silently urged him to stop, but she couldn’t even release a whimper.
His good-hearted attempt continued for an eternity, at least that’s how it felt for Darcie. Not soon enough, Des finally leaned back. Mentally, Darcie sighed in relief.
Des huffed, and she felt his weight shift away from her as he slowly lowered her back to the bed. “Sorry,” he said to her unmoving body. “I thought it might work.”
Like last time, Darcie acknowledged.
When she was in a similar state at Adir’s, Des’ touch had been what brought life back to her limbs. Knowing the cure did not work this time further convinced Darcie she was in a completely different situation than last time.
Movement in the distance drew Darcie’s ear. It sounded as if multiple people entered the room. The mattress dipped as Des moved to turn and face the entrance.
“What has happened?” She recognized Alexander’s voice.
“I do not know.” The admission seemed to irritate Des. The bed shifted as Des stood and moved away from her side.
His spot was taken by another. The newcomer placed soft, gentle hands against her cheeks. Darcie wanted to flinch away but was forced to endure the stranger’s assessing touch.
The individual poked and prodded her head, throat, abdomen, and even underneath her armpits. Each movement made Darcie want to lash out in fury and demand he stop.
“I cannot help her.”
More than one male growled, but it was Des who asked, “What do you mean, Mark? You’re a Healer. Heal. Her.” He bit out the last two words.
The man, Healer Mark, moved away from her. “Her symptoms are completely internal. No outward force or spell has done this. I cannot cure an ailment when the source is not real.”
“Are you saying she is faking it?” Alexander snarled. Darcie heard the rustle of clothing and heavy footsteps before a loud thump reached her ears. If she had to guess, someone was just thrown against the wall.
“Look at her,” Alexander’s voice was lower and it sounded deadly. “Does she look like she’s faking?”
Whoever he spoke to chose not to reply, or maybe he was unable to speak. Regardless, it was Des who broke the tense silence. “That’s enough, Alexander.”
A moment passed before there was a shuffle, and Darcie heard the gasping breaths of Healer Mark. “Go find Henry,” the vampire barked. Quick footsteps raced out of the room and down the hall.
She sensed the remaining individuals turn their gazes back to her.
“What is wrong with her?” Lome asked in a whisper. Darcie could only imagine how awful she must look for the normally light-hearted immortal to sound so serious.
“I don’t know,” Des said again, sounding just as frustrated as before. “All I know was I felt her panic. When I came to check on her, I found her like this. Unmoving, but conscious.”
“How do you know she is conscious?” Alexander asked, his tone full of doubt. She heard him take a step closer.
“Because I do.” Des did not elaborate. Instead, he changed the subject, “Where is Henry?”
“I sent him away,” the vampire revealed. “To help me with a task. Had I known this would happen, I would have never let him leave.” It sounded like he blamed himself.
“You could not have known,” Des replied stiffly, almost like he did not know how to really console someone.
“Lome, will you come with me?” the immortal asked his brother. “We need to tell Thane what is happening.”
“I will need to retrieve Eshe, first,” Lome said without hesitation. “She will want to know.”
Des paused.
Then, he said, “Of course.”
The room grew eerily quiet following their departure. Darcie thought all of the room’s occupants must have left until a slight disturbance in the air around her revealed someone remained. And that they were very close.
Cold, familiar fingers reached out and touched her temples. Alexander released a low hiss. “You are burning up.”
Darcie wanted to sassily congratulate him on finally being right when checking for a fever, but a part of her was glad she couldn’t. Despite his earlier rudeness, it was easy to hear how concerned her newest friend was for her well-being. The comment would have been insensitive at best.
“I need you to hold on, Darcie,” he cleared his throat. “We all do.” Then, without warning, a jolt of energy shot out of his fingers and into her palm. She would have gasped if given the ability.
Darkness loomed at the edge of her mind and blanketed her thoughts just before she heard Alexander say, “Forgive me.”
10
The flutter of birds’ wings and the sound of their singing rang through Darcie’s ears. She lifted a hand to cover her eyes from the sun’s brightness when the sheer fabric hanging off her arm caught her attention.
Darcie examined the airy, pale material. Glancing down, she realized she wore a robe of some kind
. While the sleeves were practically see-through, her torso and lower half were covered with a silky satin material. The unique ensemble stopped just before the fabric hit her knees.
The world was quiet, only the sounds of nature interrupted the stillness. Darcie wondered if she was in a dream; the scenery seemed to have a foggy edge all around it. Inexplicably, she felt the urge to walk.
Heeding her desire, Darcie’s thin and pale limbs gracefully crossed the cobblestone walkway beneath her feet. She stepped onto a grassy lawn when she felt a subtle tug on her chest.
She turned her head in the direction of the pull and noticed two figures sitting on a stone terrace in the distance. She moved towards the sight, her steps did not make a sound on the soft grass. As she drew closer, recognition dawned and she stopped in her tracks.
Des sat in a white-washed chair on the patio, staring off into the distance. Beside him sat Argos, looking just as distant and forlorn as his master. His massive head laid on the ground, unmoving as his eyes periodically trailed up towards Des. When the immortal showed no sign of relief, Argos released a loud huff and closed his large brown eyes in sorrow.
Darcie’s palm moved to her chest; her heart ached for them. She did not know what happened to cause the two strong and powerful creatures distress, but her instinct wanted to do nothing more than erase their sorrow. She continued her approach, soul yearning to lay a reassuring hand on Des’ broad and burdened shoulders.
Darcie’s ballet covered foot had just landed on the first stone step when another powerful being joined the scene. She stilled, her hand resting on the ornate banister as she watched Alexander drift in from the open doorway behind them.
This is the brothers’ mansion, Darcie realized.
Suddenly, the hazy fog lifted and the teenager was able to fully recognize the familiar structure. Her neck whipped back and forth, taking in her location. She stood at the foot of the terrace attached to the east wing. It was a part of the house she rarely went to; there were not as many gardens or entertaining rooms in the eastern part of the mansion.
Envisioned (Immortal Chronicles Book 3) Page 6