“W-who are you p-people?” I asked him as soon as he turned around.
“Sorry, grandpa said not to say anything,” he replied, turning his head. “Scared I might spook you into running away.”
“I won’t run away—I don’t have anywhere to run to. Please...I just need to know what’s going on.”
He started to say something but caught himself. “I really shouldn’t.”
“Please...I'm really scared.”
Pity shone out from his blue eyes. “Okay, well grandpa says we’re kinda like the Secret Service. We protect like, really important people. We’re your guardians.”
“Guardians? Well you failed.”
I knew that was harsh even before the hurt showed up on his face. He was just a kid. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. I just…”
“They got my mom too,” he said turning his face from mine. He wiped his eyes and then put his head down. “It’s what they do, hurt people. I hate ‘em all.”
“Who are they?”
He looked me square in the eye, unflinching. “Not who, what…Vampires.”
A few seconds passed before I was able to speak. I searched his face, but found nothing to suggest that he was lying, or even kidding. Still, my mind rejected the possibility of it. It was absurd; vampires were the stuff of movies, bad Halloween specials… My heart knew better. It knew this boy’s pain was real, that our pain was the same. The wildness in that monster’s voice rang in my ears.
“Why are they after me?” I said, finally.
“Because you’re a grey eyed heir, that’s why.”
I shook my head. It was the same thing he’d called me when he’d spoken to his grandfather. So what my eyes are grey? “What does that mean?”
A bit of the boy returned to his face. “You’re practically royalty!”
“Me? Royalty?” I pictured our beat up old furniture, the empty kitchen cabinets, how big a deal it was for us to finally have a phone and found myself laughing. It surprised me. How could I be laughing right now? My mother was dead and yet I was suddenly at peace with it. Suddenly relaxed. Was it this boy? It had to be, he had a warmness to his disposition.
He smiled at my puzzled stare. “You’re the prettiest one too.”
Through my confusion, I managed a smile. “You're sweet. So what am I ruler of?”
He waved me over to the icebox and I took a seat beside him. He looked excited. “I can show you.”
“Oh, okay…”
“Put your hand in mine.” I did as he asked, my palm facing upwards. He covered it with his other hand, whispering something I couldn’t hear. When he uncovered it, a small flame burst into existence, taking the shape of a butterfly. It flew up out of my hand and fluttered around my face.
“Pick up your jaw,” Nathan laughed. “You’re a witch!”
Chapter 3
Revelations
Screeching tires woke me from my wide eyed stare. Nathan leapt to his feet and darted into the next room.
“He’s back!” he called.
I pushed myself up from the icebox, attempting to gather my thoughts—this despite the fact that my mind had just been blown off its hinges. Nathan came running back into the small kitchen, only slowing long enough to unlock the door before disappearing outside. A sudden anxiety filled me as I waited there alone, becoming more intense as the sound of voices neared the open doorway. I took a deep breath for clarity, and then went about surveying the room for potential weapons and possible escape routes—another part of my training.
Before I could act on the plan I’d quickly pieced together, a tall wide man came through the doorway, with Nathan under his arm. His hairline had retreated considerably, and a thick brown beard concealed most of his features, but his gentle eyes shared Nathan’s warmth. Still, when he made a move toward me, I instinctively moved away. A chill caused my entire body to shiver.
He and Nathan exchanged glances. Nathan leaned over, whispering something to the tall man, then stepped forward. “It’s okay, this is my grandpa. He’s your guardian, he won’t hurt you.”
I nodded. “I’m sorry…I…”
“There is no need to explain, Anastasia. I know that tonight has been difficult. My grandson used a calming spell on you which lost its effectiveness once he left the cabin. You may be experiencing a sudden rush of emotion,” he said slowly, in a soft and even tone. He put both of his hands into the air—the same way people did when they were surrendering to the police—and took slow steps backwards until his back was against the opposite wall. He continued. “My name is Duncan. Duncan Mathalbane. Like my grandson said, I am your guardian. I’ve watched over your family since your mother was a child. You are safe now. The area is clear.”
The very same thoughts that arose in my mind when Nathan first alerted me to the fact that I had guardians came storming back to the forefront now. Why had my mother been left to face that monster alone? Where had they been all these years? And why had we been forced to live like we did? I tried to bite my tongue, but the anger was so much stronger this time, overwhelming…
“What took you so long?” I screamed, as new tears found their way down my cheeks.
Duncan shook his head and took in a slow breath. “I know you have questions, but please understand, there is a lot that you don’t know. Things which, if not explained in just the right way could—“
“Nathan already told me that I am a witch,” I interrupted. “And I know that a vampire attacked my mother. What else do I need to know?”
Nathan’s eyes grew large on his face and his grandfather shot him a nasty stare. Part of me hated betraying Nathan’s trust but a much larger part of me was sick and tired of not getting answers when I asked for them. I wanted everything explained, and I wanted it explained right now.
Duncan ordered Nathan to his room, and he slumped off with his head hung low.
“Tell me everything you know about me or I’ll leave right now," I demanded. "No more secrets.”
It was an empty threat, Duncan probably realized it too, but I figured it was enough that it might be worth it to have my cooperation. He sighed and moved closer. This time, though my knees threatened to buckle, I held my ground.
“Your family name is Rasputin,” he began. “The most fam— infamous of your ilk being Gregori Rasputin, architect of the fall of the Tsars. As it stands, you are his great great granddaughter. The Rasputins are descended from the eldest daughter of the first known witch Merline. The name Merlin might sound more familiar as later historians thought it much more suitable that such a powerful historical figure be made into a man. It isn’t known how Merline came to possess her magickal abilities, but what is known is that she had seven children, and every witch or warlock living today is a descendant of one of these seven children. However, only the seven descendants deemed to be the legitimate heirs of Merline’s seven children are gifted with her mythical grey eyes. Sadly, only the Pendragon, Merovingian, Rasputin, and Abiade royal lines have survived the years.”
By the time Duncan had finished speaking, he was right in front of me. So entranced was I by his history of witches and warlocks that I hadn’t even noticed it until then. I jumped backwards.
Duncan smiled. “I mean you no harm, Anastasia.”
“No s-spells.”
His smile became bigger. “Were it legal for me to subdue you with magick, I would have done so already—probably a sleeping spell. You are of royal blood Anastasia, if it became known that my grandson placed even a simple calming spell on you, he would be punished severely.”
I could only stare at Duncan. It all sounded so surreal, this talk of heirs and magic yet there was no hint of anything but sincerity behind his words. It occurred to me then that I was no longer trembling, but this time my relaxing felt much more natural. The careful way in which he spoke, the way he moved around me, it gave me the sense that I was someone he held in high regard—someone he cared a great deal for. Still, there was so much I wanted to know.
&nbs
p; “And the vampires…why are they looking for me?”
“Because of the war. For over 800 years a war was waged between witches and vampires and has resulted in devastating casualties both witch and vampire and human alike. It is believed that Merline’s very first child died at childbirth, and so consumed with grief was she that she delved into the very dark and twisted magicks to raise him from the dead. Upon realizing the boy’s murderous need for blood to survive she resolved to kill the child, but her maternal instincts prevailed and she instead banished him to a far away land. The boy returned a man, and repaid his mother’s mercy with murder. He claimed to be the rightful heir to her many lands and wealth but was denied by her other children—they chased him away and pursued him until the ends of their lives. Thus began the family feud that evolved into a most terrible war. Today a provisional peace treaty exists but there are still groups from both sides who choose to live as though the war continues. It is those vampires who hunt you.”
“Where were you when they came?” I repeated. It was the question I wanted answered the most and although I'd spent the better part of his explanations trying to avoid my asking it again, it came out anyway.
Again he breathed deeply and then plopped his large frame onto the icebox. “I was forced to keep my distance, Anastasia.”
“What? By who?”
“By your grandmother. It is my duty to protect you and your mother but I was not to let your mother become aware of my presence—that we knew her location. And because of that I could never get too close.”
“But I don’t understand. She made such a big deal of keeping me safe, why wouldn’t she want help?”
“You were never meant to be an heir, Anastasia. Your mother was a second child; your aunt, Aleksandra, was the first. Her first born child would have been next in line to inherit Merline’s grey eyes had she not passed away so young. As your mother’s guardian, I knew that she had always been grateful not to have inherited the grey eyes. It meant that she was free to live her life however she saw fit. Free of the burdens and responsibilities. When your aunt died and you—the only first born Rasputin left— inherited the eyes, she took you and ran. I can only guess at her reasons, but I suspect that it was because she wanted you to be able to make your own choices—to choose your own life. Aleksandra did struggle with the limitations…”
“What happened to her?”
His face turned from mine. “I can say no more. “ He stood up and began to walk into the next room shaking his head. I followed him.
“I need to know what happened to her.”
He put up his hand. “I shouldn’t have said as much as I did.”
“I…I order you to tell me,” I said desperately, unsure if it would actually work.
“You wouldn’t,” he said, his nose and forehead now bright red.
I hesitated, but answered. “I do.”
He lowered his head, and then turned his pain struck eyes to mine. “She basically took her own life, Anastasia.”
The news hit me like a kick in the gut. “But why?”
“For misguided love. Now I’ll say no more, royal blood or not.”
Love? What boy could be worth your life? I didn’t understand. I sat in silence while Duncan turned and wiped his face. I felt terrible. It was obvious that he cared a great deal for my aunt, and I’d made him relive what was clearly a painful time. His pain brought my own back into focus.
“And now my mother is dead too…" With those words whatever calm I'd managed was shattered, the unbearable pain returning at last, and I collapsed on the floor. Duncan picked me up and carried me into a bedroom. He sat with me while I sobbed, loud and deeply, until my eyes and throat both ached from it.
A time passed and then, fighting back tears of his own, he spoke. "My sweet Elena, Nathan's mother, suffered a similar kind of attack at the hands of those monsters. For years I believed her gone from this world and it was not until very recently that I learned the truth. I cannot tell you the pain it caused me. Your grandmother will likely strip me of my title for telling you this, but I cannot in good conscience do otherwise..."
"I-I don't understand...."
"Anastasia, we searched the house. There was no sign of your mother..."
Chapter 4
Home
I leaned up from the bed. I felt I knew what he was implying, but the thought was too ridiculous…
Duncan began to nod his head. "I wasn’t there with you—"
“But you were there,” I interrupted. “You saved me…didn’t you? You pulled him from underneath my bed? Maybe one of your men?”
His head cocked in surprise. “Anastasia by the time we arrived, the house was empty. There was no sign of anyone. Until Nathan’s phone call, we had assumed the very worst.”
“But then, who? And where did my mother go? This isn’t making any sense.”
“You’re certain that there was someone else present?” he asked.
I nodded. “Someone saved me.”
“Then perhaps there is another explanation,” he conceded. “Is there any chance that you could be mistaken about how bad her injuries were?”
“I don't know, I mean, I saw her lose consciousness. She was hurt so badly, I guess I just assumed..."
"It is highly possible that whoever saved you came back for her. If that is indeed the case then she could very well be alive." He sighed. “But there is also another very real possibility, and I need for you to hear and accept this now, before your mind closes itself off to it."
I stared at him, unsure if I wanted to hear what he had to say.
He continued anyway. “Your mother could now be one of them.”
One of them. The disgust in his voice seemed to echo around the room. It was the same tone that Nathan had taken when talking about the vampires who attacked his mother. I tried to let the words sink in—to imagine my mother as one of those things. I couldn’t. My reality had been shaken and twisted enough—it had reached its limit.
“No. She’s alive. I have to believe that. I…” I didn’t know what else to say. As I sat there in silence I could feel my mind scrambling for some way to make this explanation work. I thought of how resourceful she was. How she always had a backup plan for everything. Surely, she’d have enlisted some kind of help, someone who would come in a time of crisis. It certainly sounded like something my mother would do, and that was enough for me to cling to this hope, wholly and completely.
“Ana—“
“No.” I interrupted. “She’s alive.”
Duncan opened his mouth to say something more but didn’t. Instead, he placed his hand on my cheek and wiped away the wetness under my eyes. “Very well, then. “
With that, he stood up from the edge of the bed and crossed the room, stopping in the doorway. “Would you like to speak to your grandmother?”
I didn’t hesitate. “No.” It was probably irrational this sudden dislike I felt for a woman I'd never met, but I didn't care. My mother hadn't thought very much of her and that was reason enough for me.
“Very well, but tomorrow we leave for her home in Brighton. You’ll be safe there. I believe it’s what your mother would have wanted.”
“It is,” I sighed, remembering what she’d left for me in that yellow envelope. “I’ve got plane tickets, there’s one for each of us.”
“Three?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Then she did know we were here. It isn’t a coincidence that your escape led you to this cabin, is it?”
“I guess not.” My reply sounded indifferent, but in reality his pointing out this fact had sent a surge of hope through me. “She never intended to come,” I told myself. If she had, she would’ve had four tickets, not three. She had always intended on us splitting up, giving me the safer, more immediate route to safety. Whatever she’d planned for her own escape was probably much more risky—but it was a plan. I could feel my sprits lift.
Duncan thought on this for a moment as well. Finally, he no
dded, flipping the light switch as he left, casting the room into total darkness.
Loneliness descended upon me like a sudden rain, leaving me scared and defenseless against the night’s horrors. There were no more distractions, no comforting voices to calm me. No sooner than he left had the sounds of my mother’s screams quickly filled the room. I buried my head into my pillow and closed my eyes, but found no refuge there. Images of mother’s body, barely alive, flashed in front of me. My breaths became heavy, and my heartbeat thundered in my ears. I lay trembling in the black abyss of my own torments, begging for sleep to rescue me.
********************
It was Nathan’s face that I saw hovering above mine when my eyes opened the next morning. He had a bright smile and carried a tray of food in his arms. He did not speak (as I’m sure his grandfather had ordered), but did conjure up another fiery little butterfly which flew smoky little circles around my head and shoulders.
I forced a smile and when his cheeks reddened, I knew that all was forgiven. Duncan called for him, so he placed the plate onto the bed and then disappeared out of my room at a run. Quickly, I emptied the plate of eggs, bacon, and cheese covered grits. I was surprised by my appetite. As I stood up, I waited for the crushing pain to stir up inside me, to break me down into tears, but it didn’t. Instead I felt something new, emptiness.
I walked out into hall and turned into the kitchen. Two young men that I didn’t recognize were playing cards on the icebox. Upon noticing my entrance they both jumped onto their feet and leaned over. I just stared.
“I specifically said not to bow!” Duncan growled as he and Nathan entered from outside.
The two men straightened up, glancing over at me with embarrassed half-smiles. “Sorry,” said each of them.
“It’s okay,” I replied. Normally I'd have felt embarrassed too, having people bowing to me when I walked into a room, but strangely, I didn't feel anything at all.
“My local support," Duncan announced. "Jake and Eddy. Helped me to…” Duncan didn’t finish his statement. Instead, he came over with a large plastic shopping bag and took my empty plate. “This is everything you’ll need for a shower, including a change of clothes. Had to guess at the sizes but they should fit well enough.”
Grey Eyes Page 2