The Eternity Road (The Eternity Road Trilogy, Book 1)

by Lana Melyan

  Gregor, not very tall but a broad man with a square face, was Joanne’s most trusted minion. More than fifty years ago, she saved him from the gallows after he was sentenced for the murder of his own parents. Joanne met him before the execution. When he asked her who she was, she said she was his salvation. She drank his blood enough to leave him conscious, then made him drink her own. As good as dead, he dropped to the floor.

  When Gregor woke up at the graveyard, he remembered the choking rope around his neck. Looking up at Joanne standing beside him, he asked if he was really alive.

  “You died,” said Joanne, “then you came back to life. It wasn’t a long journey, but during it you lost something, something that is very important for humans, but means nothing to us.”

  Gregor stood up.

  “What was it?” he asked.

  “The moment you died, your soul left your body. You lost it forever.”

  Gregor shrugged.

  “I don’t think I ever had one.”

  Joanne smiled.

  “That’s what I thought. Otherwise I wouldn’t have picked you.”

  “I feel different.”

  “You are different. You’re a vampire now, a creature of the night. Serve me well, and you will live forever.”

  He never betrayed or disobeyed Joanne. She valued his devotion and loyalty, and that was why when the Hunters came after her eleven years earlier and Fray told her to take only one of her men and run away, Gregor was the one she chose to save.

  Joanne knocked on the door, and seconds later it opened.

  “Good evening,” she said politely.

  “Good evening, lady,” said the moon-faced woman in a white bonnet standing in front of her.

  “My name is Joanne Murray. I’m sorry to bother you, but we’ve come a long way and run out of water. Would you please help us?”

  A little girl came running after her mother and grabbed her around the legs. She looked up at Joanne, and her small mouth fell open.

  “Of course. Come in,” said the woman.

  “Thank you.”

  The moment they stepped inside, into a small anteroom, Gregor grabbed the woman and put his hand over her mouth. The little girl looked from one to another, and her lips pouted. Joanne bent to her and took her hand.

  “Don’t be afraid,” she said softly.

  But the girl glanced up at her struggling mother, who looked back with wide-open, terrified eyes, and the corners of her trembling mouth went down. The child sobbed once, and then burst out crying.

  Holding the girl’s hand, Joanne opened the next door and went forward.

  At the head of the long dining room table sat a man with a short beard and long hair tied at the nape. Seated in benches on either side of the table were two blond, curly-haired boys, watching their father drill holes into a long, thin piece of wood with the tip of a narrow knife.

  All three of them looked at Joanne. Unlike his wife, the man wasn’t very welcoming.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  “Oh, you’ll find out soon enough,” smirked Joanne. “Gregor,” she called.

  Gregor came in, shoving the woman before him. The man stood up.

  “Don’t do anything rash, or we’ll kill her faster,” said Joanne. “Gregor, let her go.”

  Gregor pushed the woman, and she fell onto her knees. The man clenched his fists and dashed toward Gregor. He punched Gregor in the chest, but nothing happened. He might as well have punched a wall.

  Gregor beamed. His mouth opened, the sharp teeth protruding like a trap. He idly lifted his hand and punched the man in the face. The man swayed, his eyes dimmed, and he fell on his back. Blood flowed from his nostrils down his cheek.

  “I changed my mind,” said Joanne. “We’ll kill him first. Throw him outside, the boys are hungry.”

  “No,” cried the woman. She crawled to Joanne’s feet. “Please, please.”

  Her sons ran to their blubbering sister, now sitting on the floor, and pulled her away.

  Gregor didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed the man by the scruff and dragged him outside.

  “Now,” said Joanne. She bent slightly to the weeping woman. “I heard there’s a witch in this village. Who is she? What’s her name?”

  The woman stared at her with eyes full of fear.

  “Witch? What witch?” she asked, sobbing. “We didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Tell me, or . . .” Joanne gazed at her rabidly, then pointed at the girl. “Or I will rip her head off.”

  Both boys froze in horror.

  “Oh no, oh, God, no.” The woman wept again. “It is . . .” She sobbed. “I think it’s Ms. Cocker . . . Rebecca Cocker.”

  “How can we find her? Where does she live?”

  “Behind the forge. It’s a small house.”

  The door opened, and Joanne looked up to see Gregor returning.

  “I’m done. You can have her,” she said, and when she turned back to the woman, her eyes weren’t blue anymore. She snarled and stepped toward the children.

  “Mmm, that was delicious,” said Joanne with relish.

  Wiping her chin with a white handkerchief, she glanced once more at the bodies surrounding her, and then went outside where another bloodless body, with several bite marks, lay on the ground.

  “Throw him inside and burn down the house,” said Joanne, mounting her horse. “Gregor, let’s kill that witch and go home.”

  In her nearly two hundred and fifty years, Joanne never had a home. When she was a little girl, her mother was a servant on a small estate. They had a roof over their heads until one day the mistress’s cat stole Joanne’s food—a little piece of meat which Joanne herself had stolen from the kitchen. When she found the thief beside the wood shed, swallowing the last bit and licking her mouth with her rough, pink tongue, Joanne took the ax beside the stump and chopped the cat’s head off.

  The mistress threw them out. That was when the wandering began. Many things had changed since then, but not that. Even though the reason was now different, she was still running from place to place. There was fun and satisfaction, but it didn’t last long, and every month or two she had to find a new nest.

  Until now.

  Now Joanne had a home. It was a big house with a marble floor and columns, eight bedrooms and big and small living rooms, the house, which Fray built for them at the edge of the forest, not far from Williamsburg. Joanne had always loved flowers and, even though she couldn’t enjoy the beauty of their colors and the dew shimmering under the sunlight, she was delighted with her small garden in the backyard.

  After Fray came into her life, Joanne didn’t have to run anymore. She now knew how to protect her home. Fray told her about the Book and the Map. As he said, there were two ways for Hunters to find them, and both involved the Map. The first way was witches, who, after detecting monsters, performed the ritual to summon the Hunters. The second way was Fray himself. Using the Map, Samson could locate the Hunters. In the chest beside the Book, he kept vials with dry blood of each family member. All he had to do was sprinkle a small pinch of it onto the Map. It would create a red line straight to that person.

  Years ago, when Samson put the empty vial before Fray and asked him for blood, Fray refused to fill it. “What if I don’t want to be found?” he said.

  Since Fray wasn’t a problem, Joanne’s intention was to kill every witch in the surrounding area, to secure the place.

  She hadn’t seen Fray for weeks, and she was pleasantly surprised to see him coming down the wide marble stairs when she entered the house.

  “You’re back.” She smiled.

  “Did you miss me?” Fray asked, clutching her in his arms.

  “Tighter,” whispered Joanne, closing her eyes.

  “You did,” Fray chuckled.

  She stroked his lips, and he looked at the small bloodstains on her gray, silky gloves.

  “Did you have fun?” He asked.

  “Yes. I killed the witch. No witches in a hund
red miles. They will never find us.”

  “Excellent.”

  Fray’s deep voice was full of excitement that Joanne had never sensed before. Her hand slipped to his chest and she felt his racing heart.

  “How was your trip?” Joanne asked.

  Fray stepped away and began pacing.

  “I went to the castle, and guess what I found out.”

  The front door opened.

  “The horses are fed, Ma’am,” said Gregor, coming inside.

  Fray stopped.

  “You and him,” he said, pointing his index finger at Gregor, “will pick young men and women from those villages and turn them.”

  “You want us to make more vampires?”

  “Yes, and as soon as possible”

  “And you want us to pick them? But you’ve always done it yourself.”

  “There’s no time for that now. And it doesn’t matter. They’re going to die anyway.” The tone of Fray’s voice became sharp and his face changed. He looked angry now.

  “Fray, what’s going on? Are we in danger?”

  “No, they are.” He gritted his teeth. “Because I am going to destroy them. He lied to me all this time, and he’s going to pay for that. I’ll make him suffer. I’ll show him who’s king.”

  “How?”

  “I’m going to steal the Book. This is a perfect time for that. Right now there are only three of them in the castle—Samson, Gabriella, and Riley. The rest are in Paris. Then they are going to spend a month in London and come back sometime in September. We’ll be done long before that. I have a plan, but we’ll need more men.”

  “Then what? Fray, they’ll hunt you down. You are invincible, but what about us? What about me?”

  “You’re not going to die, Joanne,” he whispered, looking at her with jubilance. He walked closer and put his hands on her arms. “Your life is about to change. I will make you the strongest vampire ever.”

  Joanne’s eyes narrowed.

  “Are you saying that you can—”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. I’ll take you to the sun.” Fray let go of her and began pacing again. “He’s been hiding it from me all these centuries. I will show them who I am . . .”

  But Joanne wasn’t listening anymore. She walked to the window, looked at her roses, and smiled.

  19

  TODAY

  The long and restless night after the conversation with Craig, Hanna, and Ruben didn’t pass fruitlessly. Amanda made two decisions.

  She was not going to blame Hanna for disloyalty just yet. What if she had serious reasons for not telling Amanda the whole truth? Amanda’s first decision was to wait a little bit longer, as they had asked her to.

  She still didn’t know what was going on, and she still didn’t understand why they couldn’t tell her, and the connection between all of them still remained unclear. When Craig said the bracelet belonged to her, it made everything even more complicated, and the questions began to multiply. But there was one thing that became absolutely obvious after Craig said that the three of them wanted the same thing that those bad guys wanted from her: Craig only liked her because she looked like Eleanor, and he protected her because he needed her. Amanda herself was nothing, she was just an instrument and Eleanor’s shadow. That conclusion led Amanda to her second decision—she had to stop thinking about Craig and move on.

  Her dad’s bedroom door was open, and Amanda saw him standing beside the bed and packing a small suitcase. Bright morning light filled up the room through the fully open windows.

  “How do you feel?” asked Amanda, walking in. “Nervous?”

  “A little,” he said, smiling slightly. “How are you? Did you sleep well? You seem a bit—”

  “Hanna’s waiting,” called Melinda from downstairs.

  “Coming,” answered Amanda, then turned to her father again. “I am absolutely fine.”

  “Sorry for being so late yesterday. We didn’t have much time to talk,” he said. He added two ties to the suitcase and locked it. “Call me if you need something.”

  “You’re just leaving for a few days.”

  “I know,” he said softly. “But I’ve always hated leaving you alone.”

  “Dad, I’m not a kid anymore, and I’m not alone. I’m with Melinda.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I know. I’ll miss you too.” She hugged him. “Now,” she said cheerfully, letting go of him, “don’t you have important things to worry about? Catching the train, for example?”

  The moment Amanda got in the car, Hanna turned off the radio.

  “Amanda, I’m so sorry,” she started. “I know you’re upset.”

  “I’m not angry with you.”

  “You’re not?”

  “No. But if you’ll keep talking about it, I will be.” Amanda stretched her lips in artificial smile and flapped her eyelashes.

  Hanna couldn’t help but laugh.

  “It’s nice to see you in a good mood again,” she said, though it wasn’t clear to her what could bring about such a dramatic change.

  When they arrived at school, Kimberly was already waiting for them, leaning on her car and texting with a happy grin on her face.

  “She’s glowing,” said Amanda anxiously. “Did you know that Ruben asked her to lunch yesterday?”

  “Yeah,” Hanna sighed. “They had lunch, then dinner, and they even kissed. I know, Ruben told me.”

  “But you said that . . .” started Amanda.

  “I did. But he says he likes her. Believe me, I wasn’t exaggerating. It’s really reckless,” said Hanna, and she pushed the car door open.

  “You look good,” said Amanda when Kimberly approached them. “Did you have a nice time yesterday?”

  “It was perfect, and you’d already know that if you’d check your messages. I sent you at least five.” Kimberly shook her head.

  “You did?” Amanda began searching for her phone in her small leather satchel.

  “Why didn’t I get one?” asked Hanna, looking at her cellphone.

  “You’re a lesbian and wouldn’t understand my interest in a man,” smirked Kimberly, patting Hanna’s back.

  “You can read mine,” said Amanda, raising her eyebrow. “It’s fascinating.”

  Hanna took Amanda’s phone, and they followed Kimberly to the school entrance.

  “I don’t know why you need archaeology,” said Hanna sardonically after she had read all the messages. “You should write novels.”

  Looking at Kimberly’s back and wagging between groups of students, a few of whom were still bandying words about Saturday’s party, Hanna reached her locker. Only then did she turn around and realize Amanda wasn’t with them. She started cursing herself, when she saw her walking down the corridor with Alec. He held her around the shoulders, and she leaned into him in a way that was decidedly more than friendly. Sudden pain, like somebody poked her in the heart with a blunt object, stopped her breath. She heaved a sigh. She glanced at Kimberly who was standing beside her and looking in the same direction.

  “I guess she made up her mind,” said Kimberly with glee.

  “Oh, I’m sure you put your bit in it. What happened yesterday after I left?”

  The bell rang, and students began to move toward their classrooms. Kimberly closed her locker and turned to Hanna again.

  “That’s right, I gave her some advice,” said Kimberly.

  “So this is your work?”

  “Actually, it’s yours. She was crying, Hanna.”

  Hanna’s shoulders slumped.

  “You’re right. It’s my fault.”

  “Maybe what I said somehow influenced her decision, but I know her. She would never listen to me if she still had hope,” said Kimberly, and she walked down the already empty corridor.

  “Wait a minute. You knew about. . . ? I knew because… She didn’t tell me. Nobody tells me anything. She told you?”

  “She didn’t have to. As I said—I know her.” Kimberly climbed the
stairs. “Come on, Hanna, we’re late.”

  During lunch, Hanna and Kimberly sat at their usual table beside the window, but Amanda’s seat remained empty. She and Alec took a place in the corner, three tables away. They talked and laughed, but what irritated Hanna most was Alec’s hand, which was constantly moving, stroking Amanda’s cheek, fixing her hair, playing with her fingers.

  “Stop staring,” said Kimberly, poking into her salad. “Eat.”

  At that moment Alec’s hand landed on Amanda’s knee.

  “I’m not hungry,” said Hanna, pushing aside her plastic tray.

  “You look like a spying, jealous husband,” chuckled Kimberly. “Stop it.”

  “Don’t you see what’s going on?” said Hanna, letting out her frustration, “This is a cry of despair. She doesn’t like him. She’s just trying to hurt . . .” Hanna looked at Kimberly sideways. “You know.”

  “No,” said Kimberly, swallowing, “she’s just trying to move on.”

  If Hanna could, she would leave now, but she needed to keep an eye on Amanda. She had to endure this very unpleasant, though not entirely unexpected, turn of events the whole day. When Amanda walked to her locker without Alec at the end of the classes, and Hanna was sure that this agonizing day, which seemed much longer than usual, was finally over, it became worse.

  “Kimberly, remember that double date you were talking about?” said Amanda

  “Yes,” said Kimberly, avoiding Hanna’s gaze.

  “Alec wants to take me out tonight. I thought if you and Ruben don’t have plans, we could go together.”

  “Good idea. I’ll ask him,” said Kimberly. Hiding behind her locker door so Amanda couldn’t see her face, she looked at Hanna and soundlessly mouthed, “Sorry.”

  “No, wait,” protested Hanna, “you can’t,” she said staring at Amanda, and this time not because she was concerned about Alec, but because the word “out” sounded very ominous to her.

  “Why not?” asked Amanda who, unlike Kimberly, knew what Hanna meant, “I can if Ruben is coming.”