by L.H. Cosway
“Florence, you look great,” I said, taking her in. She couldn’t have been here more than a day and already her skin looked brighter and her long, straight hair was clean and washed.
“Thanks. Come on in and meet Gran. I’ve been telling her all about you.”
I stepped inside the cosy house and was immediately met with the pleasant scent of jasmine and lemon balm. An older woman sat in the living room with some knitting on her lap. She had grey hair pulled into a long plait and a kindly face, reminding me of the grandmother from The Witches.
“Hello. It’s Tegan, isn’t it?” she said with a warm smile. “It’s so nice to meet you.” She set her knitting down and came to shake my hand. “Young Florence has been telling me all about you and how kind you’ve been to her. I can’t tell you how grateful I am. My ne’er do well of a son has put this poor girl through the ringer.”
So, she was aware that Terry was scum? I was glad she wasn’t one of those parents who believed their children could do no wrong, even when they were the worst of the worst. Maybe Florence would be okay here. Judging from first impressions, her grandma seemed like a nice lady. I knew appearances could be deceptive, but I didn’t get any bad vibes from her.
“Well, Flo has been a good friend to me. I was glad to help her out,” I said.
“Please, take a seat. I’ll make us some tea.”
She went to the kitchen while I sat down on the couch. Florence took the armchair across from me. “She seems lovely,” I said encouragingly.
“She is. I really like it here.”
“That’s good. I’m glad.” I shot a glance in the direction of the kitchen before lowering my voice. “Isn’t it strange, though, that your dad just randomly decided to send you here? It seems almost too good to be true.” I thought of the night Ethan had compelled Terry never to hit Florence again and wondered if he’d paid him another visit. If he had, then I wasn’t mad about it. Florence was much better off here with her Grandma.
“I agree, it’s strange,” she replied. “But I’m not going to question it. I’m starting a new school next week, and this town is so quaint. I’d rather finish school here than back in the city. This is a good thing, Tegan.”
“If you’re happy, then I’m happy,” I said, eyeing her closely. I continued speaking quietly, “I also wanted to ask you something a little unusual.”
“Oh?”
I took a deep breath, weighing my words, before levelling my gaze on her. “Are you different, Flo?”
She stiffened, worrying her lip as she replied, “What do you mean?”
“I mean, are you like everybody else or is there something about you that’s not quite … normal?” When she didn’t answer, I hurried to add, “Because I’m not quite normal either.”
At this, her eyes lit up. She opened her mouth, about to say something, but her grandma returned at that moment with the tea. Great. The woman had perfect timing. We sat and made polite chit chat for a while before it was time for me to leave.
“I’ll walk you out,” Florence said, guiding me to the front door. She was quiet as she accompanied me to the end of the garden. Her grandma remained in the house, her focus on her knitting.
“To answer y-y-your question,” Florence began nervously. “No, I’m not normal.” She could barely meet my eyes when she said it. She looked almost ashamed. “And please don’t be mad, but I know you aren’t normal either. It’s why I’ve always trusted you.”
“How do you know that about me?”
She waved her arms around me. “I can see it. You’re different. It’s plain as day to someone like me.”
“Someone like you?”
She snuck a glance back at the house before whispering, “I’ve never told anyone this, so it’s a little n-n-nerve-wracking for me.”
“Don’t be nervous. I won’t tell a soul. I know how to keep a secret.”
“I can see auras,” she confessed in a whisper. “They show me people’s emotions. Like right now, I can see that you’re eager to l-leave. You’re not staying here in Chesterport, are you?” Her expression was glum, and I felt bad that I couldn’t stick around for her.
“You’re right. I am eager to leave, but it’s nothing to do with you. It’s because of what I am. It’s dangerous for me to stay here.”
Florence nodded, a sense of wisdom in her gaze that was far beyond her years. “I see.”
“Do you?”
“Yes. I can see that what you’re doing is for the best, even though I’m going to be sad to see you l-l-leave.”
I reached out and pulled her into a hug. “I’ll miss you.”
She accepted the hug, and we stood there for a long moment. When she pulled back, her face was worried. “Will you let me know when you get to wherever you’re going? Just let me know you’re safe?”
“I will. I promise.”
We exchanged one final hug, and my chest felt too tight. There were so many people I had to leave behind, and it was killing me. I began the walk back to Dad’s house, and my chest squeezed even tighter knowing I only had a few hours left with him. The road I had ahead of me was a painfully lonely one, but I could handle it. I’d survived this far, and I was damned if I was going to give up now.
Steely determination formed in my gut. I could do this. I could start a brand-new life far from here and evade all the people who wanted to find me …
Right?
2.
6 months later
It seemed like a sick joke that the first job I managed to secure in my new city was at a grocery store almost identical to Hagen’s. However, I stipulated that I wouldn’t be available to work any night shifts, so there was that. Typically, I was back in my apartment before it got dark and I didn’t leave again until morning. Avoiding going out at night had become a new habit.
At least I knew I wouldn’t encounter any vampires during the day.
It was starting to wear me down though. I needed to get out and socialise. I couldn’t remain a hermit for much longer and retain my sanity. On the way home from one of my shifts I spotted a flyer for an art exhibition happening at a gallery nearby. My heart filled with longing just looking at it. I wanted to go, enjoy a glass of wine, admire some art, and perhaps even make small talk with strangers.
I was still thinking about the exhibition when I got home and ate dinner.
I could go, right? No one had come looking for me so far. If I was lucky, they’d moved on to something else and wouldn’t even be thinking about me anymore.
Oh, to hell with it, I needed a night out. Just one night. I rifled through my clothes and found my best pair of jeans and a pretty cream blouse. I ran a brush through my hair, which used to be longer but was now shoulder length. I also bleached two strands at the front as something of a disguise, but also because I thought it made me look like Rogue from X-Men.
When I reached the gallery, it wasn’t too busy. I paid the entry at the door and stepped inside, gladly accepting the complimentary glass of Prosecco from a smartly dressed waiter. The work of several artists was being displayed, but one collection, in particular, caught my attention. The style reminded me of the expressionists, and I stood admiring a painting of a Japanese garden.
“Are you the artist?” a man asked. He’d come to stand next to me, and I cast him a quick side glance. He was attractive, probably in his forties, and wore a suit.
“Me? No. I was just admiring it.”
“Oh. I thought you might be one of the artists,” he explained with a smile. “You have the look.”
I guessed he was referring to my somewhat eccentric white hair strands. “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said, about to move on when he asked, “Can I get you another drink?”
Was he chatting me up? My stomach twisted up into knots as I gave a polite smile and declined, “No, but thank you for the offer.”
He looked a little crestfallen when I walked away. I’d thought I was ready to interact with people, but I felt completely out of prac
tice. I wasn’t ready to accept drinks and flirt with a sexy, older businessman. I needed a few more practice outings first.
I moved on to the next painting, and the gallery began to fill up. I stood back and took in the people. Most were well-dressed, professional types. It was a new habit of mine to scan any room I found myself in, always on the alert for possible danger. The man who’d offered to buy me a drink had moved his attention to a leggy brunette in a blue dress.
My attention lingered on them when a tingle skittered across the back of my neck. It was a sensation I hadn’t felt in months, not since I left Tribane, and I’d always thought of it as my very own sixth sense, a little of my mother’s magic warning me of something unexpected. Or possible danger.
My eyes went to the door of the gallery as it opened, and a man walked in. A man I recognised instantly.
Finn Roe.
Panic seized me. What on earth was he doing here? And how the hell had he found me? I hadn’t been going by my real name. I was using the alias Alexa Caldwell to avoid detection. Had he come on a mission for the DOH? Was he supposed to capture and kill me to prevent any vampires from gaining the power in my blood?
I hid behind a group of people standing by one of the paintings, planning my exit strategy as I watched Finn scan the room. I needed to get out of there and fast. He was still standing close to the entrance, so I decided to look for a rear exit. I walked swiftly through the door labelled ‘Staff Only’ and hurried down a long corridor. I swore under my breath when I couldn’t find a way out.
“You avoiding me, Missy?” a familiar voice asked.
My pulse pounded as I turned and found Finn standing there, his lips curved into a wry smirk.
“What are you doing here?” I hissed, narrowing my gaze at him. My panic increased. I was a deer caught in the headlights with no route of escape.
“So, no hug then?” he asked, amused. I wanted to slap the amusement right off his face.
“I’m leaving, and if you try to follow me, I’ll call the police,” I threatened, doing my best to keep my voice even. Finn and I had been on the same side for a brief period before I left the city, but he’d never one hundred percent earned my trust. Not to mention, I hadn’t seen him in months. I had no idea what he’d been up to in the interim.
His expression sobered. “You haven’t even heard what I have to say.”
“I don’t care what you have to say. I care about how the hell you managed to find me.”
“I have my ways,” he answered evasively.
I crossed my arms in suspicion. “I think it goes without saying that when a person leaves their home city and doesn’t tell their friends or family where they’ve gone that they don’t want to be found.”
Finn stepped closer, his eyes wandering over me. “Just because you don’t want to be found, doesn’t mean that there aren’t people who want to find you. You should be glad it was me who got to you first and not one of the vamps.”
I stared him down. So, my wishful thinking hadn’t come to fruition. They hadn’t moved on to something else and forgotten about me. I studied Finn. Could I possibly convince him to go home and pretend he’d never found me? Judging from the determined look in his eyes, probably not.
He wore a black jacket with a tight grey T-shirt and dark jeans. I tried not to focus on how the T-shirt clung to his muscular chest. His eyes wandered over me, too, before coming to rest on my mouth. A lone butterfly flitted through my stomach.
What could I say? Despite everything, it had been six long, lonely months.
“I like the new look,” he said, breaking the quiet.
“Thanks. Your opinion really matters to me,” I deadpanned, pausing a moment before I went on. “Are you alone, or did someone come with you?”
“I’m all alone.”
“Good. That means you can go back to Tribane and forget you ever saw me here.”
He took another step toward me, stopping when he was only inches away. His minty breath washed over me when he asked, “Now why would I want to do that?”
I met his gaze. I had no other option but to beg. “You know what I am, Finn. If the vampires find me ...” My voice was desperate, and his expression softened.
“Your secret’s safe with me. I’m not going to tell anyone where you are, but I need your help.”
A member of staff entered the corridor and eyed us both. “You can’t be here. This area is for staff only.”
Finn turned to him and smoothly slid his arm around my waist. I tried not to fixate on the warmth of his body or the press of his palm against my hip. “Our apologies. We lost our way searching for the bathroom.”
“No problem. The bathrooms are to the left of the entrance.”
“Thank you,” Finn replied politely before guiding me back out into the gallery. “There’s a café across the street where we can talk.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I said, deftly extricating myself from his hold.
“It’s a very public spot.”
“Whatever you have to say to me, you can say it right here. But first, I actually do need to use the bathroom.”
Finn eyed me suspiciously. “Fine. I’ll walk you there.”
Not wanting to arouse his suspicions further, I didn’t argue. Finn stopped short of the ladies’ bathrooms. “I’ll wait here. Don’t be long.”
“I’ll be as quick as I can,” I reassured him before hurrying inside. Praise the Lord, there was a window! One woman was washing her hands and shot me a weird look as I pushed it open and used my newfound upper body strength to pull myself up. Six months was a long time to spend completely alone, and I’d used the time to get strong. You’d be surprised by the amount of cardio and bodyweight exercises a girl could do within the confines of her apartment. My body was far less soft and far more toned now. Being what I was, strength was important. Plus, it was an added bonus that I could eat as much Turkish Delight as I wanted without putting on any weight.
I jumped to the ground and headed out to the street. Luckily, I managed to flag down a taxi. I needed to pack as quickly as I could and get the hell away from Finn Roe. Whatever reason he had for being here, it couldn’t be good, and I didn’t plan on sticking around to find out what he wanted.
When I arrived at my building, I rushed to my bedroom to grab the few things I needed. I’d sold my dad’s old Volkswagen when I got here and hadn’t replaced it yet, so it looked like my options were either the bus or the train. Neither was preferable, but they’d do until I got somewhere I could buy a cheap car.
It was only as I emerged from my bedroom that I realised somebody was sitting at the kitchen table. Finn grinned like he’d gotten one over on me. “Fancy meeting you here?”
I turned around and kicked the wall in frustration, which only succeeded in hurting my foot. Ouch! How could I have been so stupid to think Finn wouldn’t see right through my escape plan?
A wave of déjà vu hit me because this was almost exactly like the night he’d broken into my apartment to thank me for saving his life.
“You really have to learn that it’s not polite to break into people’s homes,” I snapped. Also, how had he known where I lived? He must’ve been watching me for a while. The fact I hadn’t noticed was cause for concern. I needed to up my vigilance game.
“And you have to learn that it’s rude to ditch people by climbing out bathroom windows. My feelings are hurt.” Finn placed a hand over his chest like he was personally affronted.
I rolled my eyes. “You’ll get over it.”
Finn gestured to the seat across from him, his expression sobering. “Sit down. I need to talk to you.”
Reluctantly, I sat. I mean, what other choice did I have? I might as well hear him out. Besides, it would provide me with enough time to formulate another escape plan. I grabbed a coaster and fiddled with it nervously.
Finn surprised me when he placed his hand over mine. “Stop fidgeting.” His skin was warm and his palm slightly callused. I glanced
up, and his eyes were intense. An odd moment passed between us before I pulled my hand away from his.
“Go on then,” I urged. “Talk.”
Finn’s gaze travelled over me, and a flash of exhaustion entered his expression. “You have no clue how bad things got after the night Theodore was killed.”
“He wasn’t killed,” I corrected. “He was banished to a hell dimension. There’s a difference.”
“Well, whatever happened to him, he might as well be dead. That hole in the sky didn’t look like it was taking him for a nice holiday in the sun.”
“What happened in Tribane after I left?” I asked, anxious to know, especially since there were people I still cared about there. Ethan was surprisingly the first one who sprung to mind.
Finn blew out a breath and sat back like he didn’t know where to start. “Small fights at first, mostly between the magical families and the vampires. The vamps were pissed that those on the north of the Hawthorn had decided to align themselves with Theodore, so once he was gone, they wanted to teach us a lesson. What started as a few small scale attacks turned into a full-blown war. We weren’t prepared for it, and the vampires wiped the floor with us. There were lots of casualties, mostly slayers, since we’re human and the easiest to kill.”
I stared at him, eyes wide. I couldn’t have imagined that what happened with Theodore would lead to such devastation. “Finn, my God, I’m so sorry.”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and I could see he was still mourning the loss of his comrades. “About two days after we attacked Ridley Island, Antonia Herrington committed suicide.”
At this, my stomach dropped. She … killed herself? So, Rita’s guilt curse had actually worked. Perhaps a little too well. Had Antonia been so overcome with guilt that she couldn’t stand to live anymore? An uncomfortable mixture of vindication and remorse swarmed inside me, but vindication won out. This was an eye for an eye. Matthew had taken his life, so it was only fair that she should take hers.
“Antonia’s death on top of Howard’s added to the vampires’ rage. One of the oldest vamps in the city, you probably don’t know him, goes by the name of Jeremy Whitfield, was voted in as the new governor, and he was determined to kill as many of us as he could as a tribute to his predecessors.”