by Devon Ashley
“So they really don’t know about me?”
“Not that I’m aware.” She offered a cookie to Abby but she politely declined it. “More for me then.”
She headed for the door. Before she opened it, she hesitated and turned back. “Has anyone seen your eye yet?”
“Yeah, right,” said Valerie sarcastically. “They wouldn’t notice if I caught on fire and flailed about in front of them.”
Valerie leaned back, unsure as to why Abby had suddenly stepped before her, her hand reaching out.
“Close your eyes,” Abby told her.
She did, before even questioning whether or not she should. Valerie felt Abby’s hand cover her eye and heard her whisper incoherently. Darkness turned golden, then it faded as quickly as it appeared. Valerie opened her eyes again. The pain was gone; she rushed to the mirror. Her eye had returned to normal. She pressed it in disbelief, as if it were only an illusion.
“I knew you were a witch but I didn’t know you could heal,” she said.
“Only minor wounds. Nothing serious.”
“Is that why you heal so fast?”
“No. It actually takes quite a bit of strength to access that power. It was only since yesterday I was able to heal my wounds completely.”
Abby headed for the door again.
“Don’t think I don’t appreciate it,” Valerie said.
Abby shrugged. “I gave it to you. The least I could do was take it back.”
By the time she returned her eyes to the mirror, Abby’s reflection was gone.
Chapter Twenty
“Are we any closer to figuring out what happened to her?” asked Jonesy.
Together, Moore and Jonesy were patrolling the halls in the children’s building, making sure everything was as it should be.
Abigail had spent several days recuperating from the damage inflicted upon her by the demon attack. It was a peaceful few days, knowing she was locked away, keeping to herself. When she emerged once more it was only to destroy manor property. The next few days went by quietly, though not peacefully. Moore and others had casually past her in the hallways or seen her about with Noel or Emily. The daunting scowls given to the members of the Order sent chills down their spines. None lingered.
Her sudden outburst of fury followed by the evil glares assured him Abigail was indeed angered by her past here.
“No. Jayden’s been watching as best he can but he never overhears anything useful. I’ve told him to back off,” replied Moore, as he stuck his head into one of the children’s bedrooms. Nothing but a clean and tidy room.
Appalled, Jonesy replied, “What? Why?”
“She’s too dangerous. Investigating her will only infuriate her more than she already is. Quite frankly, it’s just not worth the risk. In fact, I’d like you to inform the other advisors to steer clear of her all together. The fewer Order members she comes across the better. For their own safety.”
Jonesy was clearly unnerved by this decision. “I wish you’d reconsider. Eventually, they’ll let slip the reason for their condition. If we could make all our hunters like her–”
“All like what?” Moore interrupted, appalled by the suggestion. “Murderous beings with no conscience of destroying human life? Then send them out into the world by themselves to decide who is worthy to live? Never. Whatever she is we don’t want to deal with it. We will not pursue this matter any further.”
Jonesy left in a huff but Moore didn’t care. He had already lost several hunters over the years. He wouldn’t be responsible for turning the rest into murderers.
He just wanted them gone.
Chapter Twenty-One
It was an early February morning. Abby and Noel regularly lived the opposite hours of everyone else, even more so than the hunters, staying up for every hour granted to darkness. Noel had fallen to sleep an hour prior. Sleepless, Abby had pulled out the book of hieroglyphics. It only took a few pages to know the material would be upsetting to Noel, should he ever discover it. He wanted desperately to know what was written in the strange language, constantly pestering Abby to finish it already. The more she read the book, the more she was grateful he couldn’t.
She sighed heavily, closed the book and turned off the light. She could tell by the lack of light breaching the blackout curtains that the winter overcast was still present in the sky.
Murmuring, Noel asked, “Finished?”
Normally a sound sleeper, she was surprised the change in light had brought him back from unconsciousness.
“Yeah.”
He rolled over to face her. “Anything good?”
None of it was good. At least not from his point of view. She bit down on her lower lip. “It’s just my former self’s version of the encounter with Morphus. From beginning to end. All the mind games he played. She wanted to share as much as possible so I would be better prepared the second time around.”
“Was the containment spell in there?” he asked hopefully.
“No.” At least she wouldn’t have to lie about that.
“Don’t worry. We’ll find it.”
Abby rolled away, stressed, and tried to close her mind from what she just learned.
When she awoke later that day, she wasn’t surprised Noel had already gone. She knew he would have made a bee-line for the library by now.
Sure enough, there he was, buried in books Abby knew wouldn’t help. She watched him quietly from the door, certain he could feel her presence. He usually could from this distance.
“I remember why you started calling me Abby,” she said quietly, remembering her dream during the night. She had been recalling a lot of things these past few nights.
He turned his attention to her, softly gazing at her with sad eyes. “Had to. Using your formal name only angered you. I had to erase everything associated with the Order from your memory.”
“How long did it take for me to turn around?”
“Not that long actually. You figured out pretty quickly I wasn’t going to hurt or manipulate you. With a little positive, reinforcement you were smiling and laughing in a few months.”
“I laughed?” she asked disbelievingly. She couldn’t remember the last time she truly laughed.
“Once upon a time we both did. Before our lives got complicated and our days numbered.”
“Only my days are numbered.” She immediately wished she hadn’t said that. No matter who died first, the other would be devastated. They had spent too much time together, depended on one another for too long not to be.
She could feel his brown eyes watching her. It was difficult, but she forced herself to look at him. His face was somber.
“Aren’t you tired of these books yet?” she evaded.
“Never. You want to lay here and help me?”
She wanted nothing more than to curl up in his arms and sleep it off. But she remembered something else from her dream last night she wanted to clarify.
“Rain check? I really just need to clear my head for awhile. I’ll find you later, okay?”
Noel nodded and she left. Within seconds she heard his voice echo down the hallway as he called out to her.
“Hey! No hitting! Or stalking! Or taunting! In fact, just NO!”
Damn it! It had only been days since she remembered her history with the school and he knew she was trigger-happy. She returned to the library in a huff.
Abby knew that look well. It was his ‘don’t even think about arguing with me’ look.
“What if I run into Jayden?” she begged.
Extending every syllable, he said, “Not even Jayden.”
Abby pouted, flashed him an evil frown and left again.
“I love you!’ he called out again.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she yelled back, continuing on her way.
Abby wandered aimlessly through the complex hallways in the manor. Her memory led her to a hallway that dead-ended. Strange, she thought. The hallway had no purpose; no doors or stairs. Just a bookcase at the end filled
to capacity with antique books and binders dating back to the beginning of the written language.
Confused, she scuffed the books back and forth. Nothing seemed to be behind them. She had just given up when a metal clang came from the other side of the bookcase. She stepped aside as the case creaked and swung sideways. Within the dim light was Valerie.
“I figured it was you,” she said.
“What are you doing back here?”
Valerie shrugged. “I always come here to get away. No one knows about it.”
Abby tried to glance past Valerie but the darkness was too vast. “This is the basement, right? When did they seal it off?”
“Soon after you left. I don’t think the present day Order is even aware of it.”
“How does it open?” Abby asked, examining the side of the bookcase.
“You have to pull on Great Expectations.” Valerie pointed to the old, musty book on the second shelf. Sadly, she added, “I changed it. They had originally picked Frankenstein.”
“That sounds about right,” she spouted, knowing full well the past Order would have blamed her for the way things turned out.
Once shut, a soft light illuminated the wooden stairs and the common room below. Valerie had decorated the basement to her liking. She made the old-fashioned furniture as comfortable as possible with blankets and pillows. The lack of electrical outlets forced the use of candles, lanterns and battery-run electronics.
Valerie trotted down the stairs. Abby was slower, her attention fixed on a door to the left at the foot of the stairs. It had been boarded up from the outside, extensively, as if it was a last ditch effort to protect themselves from a monster that would bolt through at any moment. This was what she had been searching for.
Dismayed and expressionless, Abby asked, “Why didn’t you break it down?”
“It wasn’t mine to open.”
Abby ripped the boards off two at a time. The aged wood crumbled in her hands and clunked on the floor, echoing throughout the basement. The door was jammed shut, or locked, Abby wasn’t sure. One swift kick slammed the door backward and the dust storm commenced.
She stepped through the suffocating cloud. The cramped quarters were cold and bare. The walls and linen were white at one time but had aged yellow, as did the run down pieces of furniture. The only source of light was a tiny window that allowed little indirect light in. The sun still shined but not inside the room directly.
Abby opened a drawer of dusty clothes that were still perfectly folded. She pulled the bottom drawer out and unfastened the locks. Hidden beneath were knickknacks: old-fashioned dolls, colored writing materials and toys.
She embraced one of her treasured dolls. “I had forgotten.”
Valerie stepped in with an old-fashioned oil-lantern, her hand waving the musty air away from her face.
Valerie opened her mouth to speak but immediately gagged inhaling the air. She managed to cough out, “What are those?”
“Gifts. I had to hide them to keep my advisor from taking them away.”
Valerie look confused.
“I wasn’t allowed possessions,” she explained. “But every once in a while I’d find a toy in my window.”
She released a soft ‘hmm.’ “It was sweet that he did that.”
Abby’s forehead creased as she looked to Valerie. “He?”
“Noel.”
“Noel?”
“Yeah. You didn’t know it was him?”
“No,” said Abby.
“Who did you think it was, Abby? He was the only one who even knew you existed.”
Abby looked more closely at the doll in her hand. Her name had been stitched into the bottom, something only a mother would take the time to do. She never even realized before.
“You really do know a lot about me, don’t you?”
“I’ve been having steady visions of you for a couple of years now.”
“I must have shown up on your radar when I met Emily,” Abby stated.
Valerie tried to jimmy the window loose. She had to stick her hands through the vertical iron bars to do so. The Order must have felt Abby would run if given the chance. Little did they know, she had nowhere to go. As unhappy as her childhood was, this was the only home she had.
Abby fiddled with the doll in her hand. She must have looked more stressed than normal, for Valerie asked her what was wrong.
“I got these gifts a couple of times a year. If Noel was around watching over me, why the hell did he leave me to suffer in this hell-hole?”
“Maybe he didn’t know,” Valerie said softly.
“There wasn’t a day that went by that I wasn’t black and blue.”
“Abby, it’s not like he could seriously see you through that window at night. Its daylight now and I can barely see you and I’m standing right next to you.”
Maybe he didn’t know, maybe he did. Either way, Abby was determined to know.
Shockingly, he was still residing in the permanent indentation he created in the old library sofa. Without hesitation, she snatched the book from his grasp, tossed the doll into his lap and stood over him. Her abrupt behavior didn’t surprise him.
“Yes, Abby?” he asked cynically. “Something?”
“Why did you bring me here?” she asked.
Sensing a fight, he immediately went on the defensive. “Hey, I was against coming here and reliving the past. You’re the one that wanted to come back and get as much information on Morphus as possible. Emily could have brought all of this to us. It’s not like much of it is useful anyway,” he blurted.
“I meant when I was three.”
“Oh,” he said, relaxing his tense body, remembering the doll in his hands. “Because, you had the mark of the hunter and this was where you were supposed to be.”
“Did you know what they were doing to me?” she asked strongly.
“No, I really didn’t,” he said sympathetically. “But as wrong as it was, I think it was meant to be.”
Appalled, she asked, “What?”
Noel retrieved the book from her hand. She had forgotten she had it. It was the second book he had taken from the Chancellor’s office, the one that had already been translated.
“I’ve been reading about your former self and the Goddess Athena. Together they linked your soul with Morphus’, making you the guardian of his dimension. What I don’t quite get is that you were actually meant to reincarnate about twenty years ago. I can only guess Athena decided you needed more time to become powerful enough to face him, hence the long lifetime.”
She was skeptical. Seriously? “You’re really reaching.”
“I don’t think so. Your heritage is a little odd Abby. Only a few select people in the world become any of the things you are – hunter, vampire, witch – and a hybrid at that. You’re the only person in the world like this. There is no other.”
Abby thought on it for a moment. She prayed she was the only one doomed to this life.
“So you’re saying Athena chose this life for me?”
“I’m saying that everything that has ever happened in your life was destined to lead you to this exact point in time.” He began counting on his fingers. “Your wiccan parents, learning to hunt, my turning you into a pure vampire. As harsh and immorally wrong as it was, your path was ordained.”
Abby was drawn to the lines on her hand again. She traced the long, broken fate line up her palm. Remembering, she mumbled, “Destiny will never be my friend.”
She burst through the front door of the wicca shop. The bell was practically knocked off; it rang harder and longer than its usual soft jingle. Madam Melina ran in from the back, startled. She had a fairly large butcher knife in her hand but lowered it when she realized it was Abby. The old gypsy put her free hand to her chest, breathing hard.
“Child,” she said harshly. “Don’t do that!”
Child? Who was the younger one here? “How did you know about my destiny? That’s not something you can learn about by just reading my
palm,” Abby accused.
Breathing easier, she answered, “I had a vision when I held your hand.”
Abby had officially met too many clairvoyants.
“Then tell me what it all means,” she begged, sounding worn, frustrated and tired.
“I told you before. Your reading is unusual. So many forces contribute to your life. You’ll never be able to choose the path you want. You are destined to follow what has already been chosen for you.”
Abby sighed, seemingly ready to give up now. “So how does it all end? Do I die?”
At this point, any answer would soothe. Abby felt lost. She went so long without a past and now her future was about to diminish as well. Good or bad, she would know her fate before the battle. She would know whether or not she would have a life to return to.
She immediately regretted asking.
“Of course you do,” the gypsy said compassionately. “Even immortals don’t get to live forever.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
It had been several hours since Abby left at dusk. Midnight had come and gone.
It was usually difficult for Noel to sense Abby’s whereabouts. Fear he could sense everywhere, particularly from members of the Order and the occasional child that wandered through the manor.
But with Abby, fear was never an issue. For Abby, he always had to rely on instincts. He had studied her habits for decades, observed her moods and the actions that followed. Given the current situation, he felt she would seek solitude - and answers.
After searching the conservatory and their bedroom suite, he found her in the front pew of the temple. The room was small and lit with ornamental torches. At the front of the room was a marble statue of Athena. Unlike the others within the manor, it depicted her not as a great warrior in battle armor, but as a beautiful goddess, draped in gathered cloth and crown.
Abby was crouched over, tracing the lines on her hands. Noel leaned in behind her from the second pew.
“She can’t answer you,” he said quietly.
“Answer what?” she asked quietly back.
“The question you’ve been asking yourself ever since you learned who you are. Why me?”