“Because it’s safe. The man that lives there was a good friend of mine goes by the name of Zarlach . . . Zarlach Sivortsova, he’ll protect you until we arrive.” Protect me? From what? The vampieres? Was a Human able to do that? The thought of that both scared and quelled me. The notion of considering a person who has the power to match a monster with super strength and speed gave me a sense of security that I didn’t want to feel not until I was in my mother’s arms. Regardless that sense of security. That voice was etching away within me as if desperately trying to warn me, ‘If he can match vampieres what chance do you have against him?’ it annoyingly mocked.
“Okay dad, talk to you soon.”
For the past several moments, I argued with myself. Demanding that I go and do what my father told me to do. I was sure I would be safe; my dad wouldn’t risk handing me over to a bloodsucker would he? And if there was a Hunter or a Slayer here too, then I concluded this town must be a circus. My mind began to twist with unexpected questions and anxieties. All of which were bound to make me sick with worry, something I couldn’t afford at the moment. Regardless of my father’s intention I refused to let my guard drop. “Though what choice do I have,” I muttered to myself, “I’m dead either way.”
My anxiety jumped as I felt as though I was being watched. Hesitantly, I moved from the bedside table and towards the small window, slightly pushing back the short red curtain. There was nothing to be seen and I deliberated having potential high paranoia and psychosis, closing the curtain I returned back to my bed and opened the app.
Half an hour passed. And I found myself standing in a street, bursting with people and more people. Several looked at me surprised whilst others eyed me with disappointment or hostility. At first, I thought it was because of their potential as vampieres than soon realised that they were walking in daylight before I ended up with the conclusion of me out early in my school uniform. In a way, I didn’t blame them, this dress and the layers of frills beneath was not something to me, worn in public unless you were cosplaying.
The material was far too fine and out-dated and modern society preferred jeans and turtle-necks. On top of which, I wasn’t on school grounds so to have me in a school uniform did look out of place. The thought of returning did send shivers down my spine. So, I folded my arms around myself as a pathetic attempt to keep myself from breaking down. Focus, Cecelia, I scolded myself. There’s no time to worry about pointless things.
‘Oh really?’ that voice haunted.
Turning down another street as I followed the map on my IPhone Galatica and eyed the large clear screen carefully. Keeping to the footpath, I avoided anyone who looked suspicious and continued further on, passing a small park with people flooding it, some jogged, as others walked their dogs or pushed prams filled with toddlers or young babies. Then my gaze drifted to a—no older than thirteen—boy his dark hair and eyes locked onto mine. Instantly, I was reminded of Kristian. As quick as Kristian’s face flashed across my mind the boy was gone.
Brushing that little distraction aside, I continued on further down the street lined in suburban houses. I was surprised there were any suburbs I thought this town would have nothing and in the wind I could smell the cold ocean air that in itself calmed me enough to continue on my dangerous journey. A journey that screamed at the back of my mind. ‘Danger! You are in danger! Run!’ I fought for the strength to ignore it, even, if my instincts agreed. Eventually, I arrived at the street I wanted: Maple Avenue.
Taking a deep breath, I strode down the street, cautious of the cars zooming passed me especially those with tinted black glass. I mean vampieres could be driving those monstrosities. After what seemed like a quick walk, I stumbled upon a letterbox nailed with the number: 55. Just like that, behind the mailbox, a curtain moved a bit and I just realised, someone saw me approach.
Pushing aside the small white picket fence just like all the other houses, I entered the property. Careful to keep to the concrete path that lead dauntingly towards the small steps that greeted the white door with a large crucifix. Finally, at the door, I searched for the doorbell and notice it sitting to my left. Pressing the button, I waited and counted, “One . . . Two . . . Three—” The door pulled open to reveal a large tall man with short black hair and piercing golden eyes.
“I don’t do charities, god-worshipping or buy snacks from little girls,” he growled and glared at me with irritation.
He motioned to close the door and being as desperate as I was, I nudged my foot between the door and its frame. “I’m not from any charity or a Jehovah Witness . . .” I began once I’ve gained a fraction of his attention, “Nor am I from Girls’ Scouts!”
“Oh,” he teased, “So what brings a little kid like you, to my doorstep?”
“My father sent me,” I confessed, noticing the small hint of realisation flickering across his features. “If you are Zarlach Sivortsova I desperately need your help.”
The man sighed and opened the door wide enough to fit his large frame. “Look kid, you can’t go spouting stuff like that to random strangers. I mean older men will take advantage of that. Now since I’m a Saint, I’m going to let you go back home, without me watching you, having the cops drag you from my door while I’m waiting on others.”
“But—” I began he put up his hand. The wind picked up and a cold breeze waffled passed us. My hair danced around my face making it difficult to see the tense man before me.
“Who are your parents?” he asked as his gaze was locked onto something behind me. I attempted to turn around but instead he repeated the question this time in a demanding tone. “Who are your parents, girl?”
“Vladimir and Natasha Rusakova,” I answered, “Why?” He opened the door wide enough for me to enter but his gaze was still locked behind me.
“Because . . . now those names bring back memories.” he said darkly, with reminiscence in his tone as he closed the door and shrouded the house in darkness. The smell poaching throughout the bare hallway, was stale and I felt my nose wrinkle in disgust. “Though I never actually took them serious when they said, “in the future you’ll have to protect our little girl”,” he mocked in a voice surprising close to my father’s.
“They did say something like that but only until they arrived.”
The silence was heavy and I stumbled forward with my arms tucked before me. Something resonated throughout the house, it was as if he lifted a glass bottle from a bench and pushed aside a chair. “That’s good, I definitely don’t want to spend my time babysitting. So when are they coming?” he asked.
“I don’t know. However long it takes to get from Moscow to here.” I confessed not wanting to say out loud that I’ll most likely be here for a night or two depending on the weather.
“That’s roughly a night and two days in good conditions that is.” he ruefully stated and sighed, “Lovely, Vlad’s going to get an ear full of this when he shows up.”
“Why’s that?” I asked as I found my way from the hallway and into what felt like a living room. Instantly, the sound of a drawing curtain cut through the thick haunting darkness that I was surprised didn’t cause me to trip up but then again, I’ve never been one to trip up easily I guess you could blame that on my natural reflexes and athletic balance. Even though I’ve never done much sports or athletics I’ve always was good at keeping myself from falling face first even if it meant running down stairs over soapy water in the Subway and into the cabin of a train—those were the days Ryan, mother or father couldn’t drive me.
“Because I bet you, he’s having all the fun right now while I’m stuck babysitting, do you know how much I’m going to want to punch your father for this not that it really matters,” he muttered annoyed and I shielded my eyes from the afternoon light. I realised, that the man that I was told would protect me, did look the part, his large build before was hidden by the door and its frame but I could see it clearly now, under the afternoon light that outlined his physique, perfectly.
Largely built sh
oulders and a padded chest. Thick arms and legs that seemed to be too big for the chair he pulled back and forced his combat boots onto the table. This confused me, why would he wear combat boots let alone shoes in the house? Though through the black t-shirt he had on I could see the defined lines of his abs and I felt my face heat up. Noticing a blanket beside me lounging casually upon a green sofa I picked it up and tossed it at him. He looked at me surprised. “Will you cover up?” I growled and stomped over to him, “Also, what do you mean you’ll punch my father? You’ll probably kill him in one strike!”
“Whoa, looks like little Rusakova’s got some fire,” he mocked.
“I’m serious, you could seriously hurt him.” This time my voice rose higher than expected revealing the concern and fear I felt for my mildly built father.
“Relax kid,” he casually voiced, “Your dad’s pretty tough. He’ll be able to take a few hits from me and still stand.” This caught me off guard. How could he be so easy-going about him and my father having some sort of testosterone rumble?
Before I could continue asking more questions. The doorbell rang and I leaped from the seat across from the large man and went to answer the door but was cut short, by his warm massive hand covering my own. Looking up to meet his gaze and I perceived his tense frame, his eyes revealed uncertainty as he shook his head slowly. Telling me to stay put.
He rose from the seat and silently ambled towards the door. I didn’t move a part of me wanted to but the other told me to stay hidden and I obliged. The sight of Professor Long’s fangs ripped through my memories and flattened my hands against my head, the fear and helplessness I felt overwhelmed me and not before long the man—my current guardian—had knelt before me and removed my hands. It was only a few words that made me surrender to the sadness carving away within me, “It’s okay, you’re safe now.”
That was when I started wailing in his arms. It was strange because he was a stranger but this stranger was someone I felt completely safe with. I felt his hand lightly pat my hair in a comforting tactic. Soon enough, I heard the sound of several scraping chairs and looked up. There was a dark curly haired girl with light milky coffee coloured skin. Her lips were strangely, pink and brown that reminded me of a cherry rip, though the lips she wore, was one deep shade of hot pink. And beside her was a boy roughly around my age, his black hair was short and spiky it appeared to shine against his russet skin that gleamed a different base of red compared to the girl beside him who had a yellow base. That base she held made her look of Asian descent except that wasn’t the case with the black almond shaped eyes of hers.
The boy was tall and gangly but with a minor toned physic compared to Mr. Sivortsova. Then out of the blue a blond haired girl with blue eyes, wandered in my glassy gaze, with a smile playing her light soft pink lips. Her skin was tanned but not too much just enough to identify the soft colour in her cheeks. “Cecelia was it?” asked Mr Sivortsova and I nodded, “How do you feel?”
I beamed up at him, “Better!”
“Good because a few more will be coming shortly,” spoke my temporary guardian and I glanced around at the two of the three friendly faces while the black curled haired girl glared at me in a rather stand-offish manner.
“How many more?” I asked, a little confused.
“Two more to be exact.” stated Mr. Sivortsova “once everyone’s here we’ll take off.”
“Take off where? What about my parents?” I asked, scared to miss them.
“Don’t worry, they’ll know where to find you if they find you’re or rather we’re not here.” he declared and I began to wonder when he made such arrangements.
“And where’s that?” I asked, even more confused.
“You’ll see shortly.” he said, “While you’re all waiting, introduce yourselves and become a tight little team. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to prepare.” Quickly Mr. Sivortsova fled the room and disappeared into the shadows of his home.
“Wait . . .” I began but it was all too late. Slowly, I turned to face the group of three and smiled. “Hi,” I said in the best English I could muster.
The girl with smooth wavy blond hair fell down to her rear smiled after a little giggle ripped through her lips. “We know Russian.” she spoke fluently in my native tongue, I eyed her with awe. Though there was an accent in her words, one I couldn’t properly place.
“Of course,” spoke the spiky haired boy, “It comes in handy knowing other languages.” He too spoke fluent Russian and I could tell that he too had a similar accent to the blond haired girl but not the exact same—though it was distinct.
“Where are you guys from?” I asked, curious to both as to who they were and what could possible bring a group of strangers together.
“I’m from London, England.” The blond haired girl spoke.
The boy stepped closer to the table that separated me from the three others, “I’m from Seattle, U S of A,” he commented the boy with a casual shrug of his shoulders.
“And you?” I asked the dark haired girl who continued to eye me with hostility.
“She’s from Australia.” spoke the girl, “Don’t mind her, she’s a little shy.”
“Really?” I beamed in understanding which seemed to annoy her. The Australian girl rolled her eyes and I rose form my seat and walked over to the British girl. “That makes sense. But my apologies I don’t know your name,” I confessed as politely as I could.
“Oh, forgive me, my name’s Odette Illingworth,” said the English girl.
“And the others?” I asked as I looked around.
The boy extended his hand across the table and I took it—his touch was warm and I smiled, “The name’s Marcus Eridighan but you can call me Mark, everyone does.”
Last but not least, I eyed the hostile Australian, I sighed and rolled my eyes, “I’m not going to bite.”
“You sure about that?” she flatly asked.
“Easy now Kal. No need to start a fight.” commented Mr. Sivortsova who gleefully but ghostly entered the room.
“I’m not starting anything,” she retorted glaring at the tallest man in the room. He sighed and dropped a hand on her head and she ducked.
“Of course not.” he muttered, sarcastically.
I watched as Mr. Sivortsova eyed Kal. I could tell he was annoyed but sadly I could also tell that she was a little rebellious. “Are we leaving now?” Odette politely asked as she glanced at the eldest of us all. He nodded and disappeared for a moment before returning with something silver in hand that I couldn’t identify—immediately he tucked it away into his jacket.
“Yes we are,” confirmed Mr. Sivortsova.
The sound of a little sarcastic “yay” was all I could hear after those words but with that distinct Australian accent I could tell it was Kal. I noticed Odette glared at her and Kal seemed to dart her eyes elsewhere almost like she was guilty she was caught. I smiled at the sight but only a little knowing that the glare that Odette delivered seemed to send a complete wave of fear through me.
I saw three more teenagers, stand behind Mr. Sivortsova. They too looked foreign, I smiled as welcoming as I could at them and noticed that two of the guys smiled back whilst the dark haired blue eyed girl, gave me a calculating gaze. With the way Mr. Sivortsova was shuffling us through the front door and the sun bearing down on us—I knew I wouldn’t have a chance to talk to those three new kids but Odette and Marcus seemed to know them from somewhere else as they spoke to them like familiar friends. Kal on the other hand ignored them. Soon after, we quickly shuffled into a black jeep parked along the sidewalk.
SIX
Silver on White
My mind for some strange reason, bounded back to all my past crushes. The ones I were rejected by. I had no idea why my mind decided to bounce back that far but the pain in my chest didn’t waver it only intensified more at Ryan’s betrayal—though I understood the reason why, I believed. There always seemed to be another other than me in someone else’s mind. But to me, there always
seemed to be someone else other than Viktor—or so if felt like it. I believed he was the one—my one. Instead, obviously I assumed wrong, which was only confirmed by the anger in his voice when he spoke to the headmaster and the distance he pushed between us. That had given my heart new levels of pain, something I never thought I would ever experience.
I stared out the window, feeling a hand wrap warmly around mine. I looked down, realising it was Odette’s. Her eyes were compassionate and sad, almost empathetic. I noticed everyone gazed at me, with if not with sadness in their eyes, then a blank expression.
She didn’t say anything there was no need to. She moved from opposite me to beside me, her hand still on mine and for some strange reason, I delved in it, knowing there was some form of painless warmth somewhere in my undefined world. I placed my head on her shoulder and saw Kal holding something towards me. I regarded it curiously and then understood, it was a handkerchief. I looked at her for confirmation—wondering if it was really for me and not some joke—the look in her eyes said all I needed to know and I thankfully took it.
As I pressed the handkerchief against my cheeks, I notice the dampness on my cheeks. They were wet from the endless tears that seemed to uncontrollably stream, something which occurred without my notice during the journey. I was just pleased snot didn’t flow over my mouth that would be beyond embarrassing. “Sorry.” I said and Odette looked at me with surprise.
She wrapped her arm around me and said, “Don’t be sorry. Everyone hurts. Sometimes, more than others.” I placed my head on her shoulder and waited for the journey to end.
“We’re a good two hours away. Hope you guys back there can last.” I heard Mr. Sivortsova state from the front of the twelve seater. There was a woman beside him, with her strawberry blond hair that complemented her warm brown eyes as she peeked over at us.
Crimson Knight (Crimson Series Book 0) Page 8