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

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The Eternity Road (The Eternity Road Trilogy, Book 1) Page 26

by Lana Melyan


  Fray drove back to where he’d just come from, heading to the highway. He was going to Pasadena, and nobody was following him anymore.

  Ned stopped his car at the parking lot and made a call.

  “Samson, he did it,” he said.

  “All right. I’ll take it from here,” said Samson. “Go back to the hotel and wait for me there.”

  Fray stopped the car in the shade of the trees running along the boardwalk. When the car driving down the street had passed, he took his case and headed to the big, yellow house across the road.

  When he knocked, the door opened immediately. Standing behind it, a small Chinese woman with no sense of life on her face bowed and stepped aside.

  Fray walked in. Passing a Buddha statue on a stand, one of many traditional items in the house, he went to the small corridor. At the end of it, an open door to a large room waited for him.

  A short, thin man, who was watering a bonsai tree, turned around.

  “Good day, Mr. Wald,” he said.

  “I don’t think it is. It didn’t work.”

  “No,” said the man, stepping forward. “Somebody interfered from the other side.”

  “So they know what’s going on.”

  “Definitely,” said the man. “It was a woman. She pulled the girl back. But the good news is, the girl knows. She knows it’s there.”

  “You mean she saw it?” Fray asked.

  “I am sure she did. She was overwhelmed. The thing you put in that house contains some enormous power. You and she are connected to it. I can feel it. When she got close to it, her emotions became too strong, so strong my hands were burning.”

  “So it is her,” Fray muttered under his nose with a content smile.

  “Do you want me to try again tomorrow?” asked the man.

  “I’m not sure yet. She saw it. It means that she already knows what she has to do. Today I’ll try plan B.”

  Fray opened the case, pulled the yellow envelope out of it, and put it on the table.

  “Thank you for your service. I’ll let you know if I need your help.”

  “I don’t need the money,” said the man, looking into Fray’s eyes. “I want something else.”

  The man’s tone was unusually cold. Fray frowned.

  “Mr. Wald, I recognized you the moment you walked into my house.”

  “Have we met before, Wang? Because I would remember if we did.”

  “How can you? I was only nine years old when I first saw you. Twenty-five years ago, you came to my father and asked him to do the same thing that you asked from me. Twenty-five years is a long time, but you didn’t change a bit. You look absolutely the same.”

  “What makes you so sure it was me?”

  “We were poor then, and I could never forget the hand which gave my father that kind of money,” said Wang. He looked at the mark above Fray’s left wrist. “It’s not a tattoo. I have never seen anything like that.”

  “You’re right—it’s not a tattoo, and, yes, I’m different,” said Fray. “I have always been a legend, but people never knew when they met me that I was special.”

  “What legend?”

  “It doesn’t matter. So, if you don’t want money, what do you want?”

  Wang folded his hands behind his back.

  “I want to be like you. I want to be immortal,” he said firmly.

  “Aha.” Fray paused. “Just so you know—you will never be like me. I can make someone immortal, but as I said, I’m special. There is only one other person on earth who is like me and who has the same mark. And he is my enemy.” He paused again. “You can be useful,” he said, nodding. Then, after a lingering look, added, “I’ll think about it.”

  At the end of the same street, Samson sat in a car and kept an eye on the house.

  As soon as Fray left, he drove forward and parked his car at the same spot.

  When he knocked on the door, it took a while before it opened.

  “Good afternoon,” said Samson.

  “Good afternoon, sir,” said the small Chinese woman.

  “I need to see Wang,” said Samson.

  “Just a minute,” said the woman and closed the door.

  A moment later the door opened again.

  “How can I help you, sir?” said Wang, standing in the doorway.

  “My name is Samson.” He noticed that Wang glanced at his left hand, where half of the dagger mark stuck out from under the drawn up shirt sleeve. “I am—”

  “I know who you are,” said Wang with tension.

  “I need to talk to you.”

  Wang stepped back. Samson walked in and followed him into the big room.

  “You recognized me by the mark,” said Samson. “So he told you about me?”

  “Only a moment ago, I asked him about the mark. He said there is only one other man who has it. And he also said that you are his enemy. I am a little bit shocked. Didn’t expect to meet you so soon. To be honest, I didn’t expect to meet you at all.”

  “That’s true. We are enemies. Did he tell you why?”

  “No. Actually, he didn’t tell me anything. That he is immortal and he has a connection to that powerful thing, I found out myself.”

  “That thing?” Samson realized he was talking about the Book. His blood boiled. He didn’t want to scare the man, so he tried to sound calm when he asked, “How do you know about that? Did he tell you?”

  “No.”

  “Then how do you know?”

  Wang looked at him, a little startled.

  “Do you have any idea what you are helping him with?” asked Samson, barely controlling his irritation.

  “Not exactly.”

  “That girl you keep teleporting for him is going to die if you succeed in holding her there long enough. After she does what he wants, he’ll kill her.”

  “I didn’t know that,” said Wang indifferently.

  “So I’m asking you—are you a killer?”

  “What do you want from me?” Wang snuffled.

  “Do you know where the thing is?”

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  “Did he tell you about this mark?” Samson showed him his right arm.

  “No,” said Wang, staring at it.

  “Of course not. This mark means that thing is mine. He stole it from me, and I need it back.”

  But Wang didn’t say anything.

  “If you’re afraid he’ll kill you, I give you my word he’ll never even know I was here.”

  “It’s not that.”

  “Then what? He paid you to keep your mouth shut? I can pay you three times more if you tell me everything you know.”

  “It’s not about money!” shouted Wang.

  “Then what? Loyalty?” asked Samson. But then it hit him, “Oh, I see now. He promised you something, didn’t he?”

  “He said he’d think about it.”

  “You stupid man.” Samson shook his head. “You have no idea what you’re getting into. If you think that after he turns you, he’ll let you go, you’re wrong. I suppose you believe supernatural creatures exist. He’s raising an army of vampires. You’ll end up working for all of them forever, watching them kill people every day. And if you refuse to obey him, he’ll kill you. He has that power.”

  Wang swallowed.

  “I’m trying to stop him,” continued Samson. “So if you know anything that can help me, say it before it’s too late. That girl is very important to me. If you’re not a murderer yourself, help me save her.”

  “If you’re like him, that means you too have the power to make me immortal.”

  “Do you know why we have been given power and immortality? It has a purpose. Our mission is to fight and destroy supernatural evil.”

  Wang’s face suddenly changed.

  “The legend,” he said, amazed. “You are the Hunters.”

  “We are. And it’s I who allowed him to become one. He betrayed us and our mission. He’s creating monsters and you’re helping him. So, yes, I c
an turn you, but I won’t.”

  “Then why should I help you?”

  “Because if you don’t tell me what you know, I’ll have to kill you. That will at least stop one of his plans.”

  Wang breathed out with such rage that his chest heaved. His hands flew up, making a circle in the air. He crossed them, then he outstretched them and punched the air.

  There was an explosion. The stream of energy he sent at Samson ricocheted everywhere. The furniture jumped. The windows shattered, and pieces of broken glass flew in all directions. The pot with the bonsai tree crashed, and the tree fell on the floor, the same as the vase of flowers on the coffee table. The wooden frames of pictures rattled against the walls, and the room was full of noises of small objects falling down from here and there.

  But nothing happened to Samson. Wang, who was thrown back, looked at him in astonishment.

  “I don’t think you fully understand my power,” said Samson. “I am the First Hunter,” he said, moving forward, “No magic can harm me.”

  Wang folded his hands before his chest like he was going to pray and closed his eyes. Realizing what he was going to do, Samson rushed to him. He grabbed Wang’s hands and pulled them away from each other. To break his concentration, he lifted him and hit him in the nose with his head.

  “Even if you teleport—,” Samson threw Wang on the couch, “—I’ll find you much faster than you think. I have witches, too, you know. I just need a personal item.” He ripped a medallion with Chinese symbols from Wang’s neck.

  “No,” cried Wang, holding out his hand.

  “What? This thing is important to you? The thing that he stole is important to me, and when my wife tried to stop him, he killed her. Tell me where it is,” he put his foot on the couch and bent down to Wang, “and I’ll give this back.” He held the medallion by the chain before Wang’s bleeding nose.

  “It’s in that house,” said Wang, sniffing. “He put it there yesterday.”

  “That’s impossible. We’ve been following him all this time. He didn’t have it with him.”

  “Then somebody else did.”

  Samson pondered for a moment. He couldn’t believe that Fray entrusted the Book to the vampires.

  “What is his plan?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. But whatever it is, he’s doing it today. I’m not a part of it, so you can leave me alone.”

  Samson took his foot down from the couch.

  “If you touch that girl again, you are a dead man.”

  “I told you . . .” Wang tried to stand up. But Samson pushed him back.

  “One more question. Where is the house?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t lie to me.” Samson glared at him.

  “I only know it’s in the woods, twenty miles away from Green Hill. I have a picture of one of the bedrooms.”

  “Twenty miles . . .”

  “East. That’s all I know.”

  Samson threw the medallion to him and hurried away.

  26

  The room was dark when Amanda woke up. She took her cellphone from the nightstand. It was 4.30 p.m. She rolled over and looked out the window. Gray clouds covered the piece of sky behind its glass.

  The green light was blinking on the side of her phone. She unlocked it. One call from her father and four messages from Alec.

  Amanda sat up and called her dad.

  “Hi, Dad.”

  “Hi, honey. How are you?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “And school?”

  “All the same. One and a half days didn’t change much. How are you? Did they like your bridge?”

  “The presentation went well. They said the whole project looks very interesting, but they didn’t make their decision yet. It could take a couple more days.”

  She wanted to ask him about the dream, to see if he noticed something else in that house and if he had any idea what was going on, but it had happened so long ago. He’d probably told her all he remembered. Her questions would only distract him.

  “But don’t worry, honey, I’ll be there for graduation,” he added.

  Graduation. It was only a few days away. And only a few days ago, it seemed so important, but now Amanda had almost forgotten about it.

  “I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you,” she said.

  “Thank you.”

  “Bye, Dad.”

  “Bye, honey.”

  As she hung up, she opened Alec’s messages. They were full of questions. Amanda started to answer, but then stopped and put the phone aside.

  The few hours of sleep hadn’t made her misery go away. She felt crappy, and sitting alone in the dark room, attacked by heavy thoughts, wouldn’t make it better. Alec was the only one who she didn’t have to feel guilty with. He could at least temporarily distract her, and she could use some comfort right now.

  She picked up the phone again.

  “Amanda.” She heard the alarm in Alec’s voice.

  “Hi. I just saw your messages. I was asleep.”

  “The three of you didn’t come to school today. I was so worried.”

  “Everything’s fine. We were up all night. We were too tired.”

  “I want to see you. Maybe we could meet, go somewhere?”

  “Sorry. I’m still a little dizzy. But if you want, you can come here. We could look at your website together.”

  “Sure. I just need to finish something. I’ll be there as soon as I’m done.”

  She was just getting out of the shower when she heard a knock.

  “Who is it?” she asked, wrapping her towel tighter around her.

  The door opened, and Melinda walked in.

  “Not to disappoint you, but it’s still me. As you know, there’s nobody else in the house.”

  “I thought it was Alec.”

  “Alec’s coming?”

  By Melinda’s tone, Amanda could tell that she didn’t like the idea.

  “Yes,” she said, looking for fresh clothes in the chest of drawers.

  “You haven’t eaten anything since yesterday.”

  “I’ll be downstairs in a minute.”

  Amanda heard Melinda’s voice as she headed to the kitchen. She stopped at the end of the stairs and listened.

  “My protection works,” Melinda was saying. “If any dead man crosses within twenty yards of the house, I’ll know.”

  She was on the phone. Amanda supposed that she was talking to Craig.

  “She’s fine,” said Melinda. “She did. She slept for a few hours.” There was a pause, then she said, “Don’t worry, she’ll get over it. Besides, Alec is coming. I’m sure he’ll cheer her up.” Melinda chuckled.

  “Hi,” said Alec when he walked into Amanda’s bedroom an hour later. “Amanda, what’s going on? Yesterday you just ran away.”

  “I’m sorry for yesterday,” she sighed.

  She turned away, but Alec took her by the arm and turned her around.

  “Come here,” he said, and locked his arms around her. “It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it right now. But if you need help, I’m always here for you.”

  “I know,” she said quietly.

  Avoiding the gaze of his glittering gray eyes, Amanda looked at his chest. She put her hands on his arms, and through the soft fabric she felt his hard muscles. Her hands moved up and laid on his shoulders. He gently pulled her closer. Her cheek was almost touching his face, and she could smell the freshness of his white shirt. He kissed her neck. One hand moved up her back and slipped into her long hair. Then he looked at her lips. Amanda closed her eyes, giving him permission. His soft fingers stroked her face up from the chin, and then he kissed her.

  Amanda was grateful Alec didn’t ask questions, for his understanding.

  He lead her to the bed, and she lay down. Then she felt a weak pressure of Alec’s body against hers and the tender touch of his warm lips. It felt nice and relaxing.

  His heart hammered.

  “Amanda,” he whisp
ered into her ear, “I love you.”

  “I know.” She pulled up. “Alec, I’m sorry. I know this isn’t what you expected to hear, but I need more time.”

  He nodded.

  “I’ll wait as long as you need,” he said and sat beside her.

  After a moment of silence, Amanda picked up the laptop lying on the floor next to the bed.

  “Show me what you got,” she said, smiling.

  He opened his website and, clicking on the links, guided her through it.

  “Alec, it looks awesome. Did you do it yourself?”

  “All of it,” he said proudly, then chuckled. “That’s why it took so long.”

  “The paintings—are they here too?”

  “No. Only the photographs.” He clicked on the gallery and put it on slide show. “It’s a lot, so just tell me when you get bored.”

  There were nice captures of football games, beautiful views of ocean and mountains, pictures of rainy streets of New York and sunny, romantic Italy.

  “Have you been in Egypt, too?” Amanda asked, looking at the ruins of a pyramid.

  “I traveled a lot,” said Alec.

  “With your parents?”

  “No. With my uncle. Since I was twelve. I spent almost all my holidays with him, and every time he took me to new places.”

  Next were images of abandoned Buddhist temples. And then Amanda saw something that looked very familiar.

  “Wait,” she said when the picture changed. “Go back to the previous one.”

  “This one?”

  “Yes,” said Amanda. Her eyes froze.

  “This is just some old house. I took it not too far from here when we went hiking with my dad. It was just standing in the middle of the woods.”

  “Not far? Where?” asked Amanda, staring at the porch of the house and at the tall grass around the angel fountain.

  “Fifteen, maybe twenty miles away.”

  “Do you remember exactly where it is? Could you find the place?” she asked.

  “Of course I remember. It was the most historical moment of my relationship with my father.”

  Amanda slid down from the bed and began pacing.

 

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