by Lana Melyan
“It can’t be. Are you saying that the legend—”
“Give me a minute,” said Ruben in a low voice, looking through the windshield, and she saw that Samson, who was standing fifteen yards away, nodded.
“He couldn’t . . .” Her wide eyes were staring at Ruben. “That’s impossible.”
“You’ll find out much more after you’ve crossed this wall.”
“Wait. Ruben, if I cross it . . . I’m not ready.”
Ruben’s smile became even wider.
“You’re not going to become an immortal hunter just by passing through the wall. It’s not that simple.”
“No?”
“Not until you choose to.” He stroked her cheek. “Are you ready now? Samson’s waiting.”
“What is he waiting for?”
“People can’t cross the wall on their own. He is the only one who can let you through.”
Kimberly was overwhelmed. Her temples pulsed loudly, and her cheeks were on fire.
Ruben held out his hand, and she clutched it tightly.
“We’re ready,” said Ruben, looking at Samson.
Samson raised his hand, and his lips moved. The picture behind his palm changed, and seconds later Kimberly saw an arch emerging in front of their car with a completely different view behind it.
Ruben hit the gas and sped into it.
Over the next few seconds a million questions crossed Kimberly’s mind. But there was one that spoke out louder than all the others. That question made her shiver. It made her turn to Ruben and peer at him more closely. She looked at his young face, his hands, at his neck, and his tanned smooth skin showing in the gap of his unbuttoned on the chest shirt. Was Ruben immortal?
“This is my home,” said Ruben as he stopped the car before the castle.
His voice awakened Kimberly from her deep thoughts. She looked around.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, mesmerized by the spectacular view.
She looked at the yard first—at its fountain, its neatly trimmed bushes, at the colorful flowerbed, and at the statues standing beside the benches along the edge of the green court.
Kimberly turned her gaze to the stately castle. She looked up the walls of its tower, then at the cells of windows and at the small and big stone balconies. Then, her eyes moved down to the large brown wooden door and stopped at the slender elderly woman standing on the low, wide front stairs.
“Who is that?” she asked.
“That’s Amelia Cox. She manages the household.”
Samson’s car stopped beside theirs. He came out of it, opened the back door, and took Melinda in his arms. Ms. Cox opened the front doors, and he carried the body into the castle, Riley in tow.
“Poor Melinda.” Kimberly sighed heavily.
“Let’s go inside,” said Ruben.
As they passed the front door, Kimberly noticed big pentacles on the dark brown wood. Inside she saw Hanna and Ned coming down the marble stairs that ran along the wall.
“Hanna, is Amanda okay?” Kimberly asked, stepping forward.
“She’s fine,” said Hanna, hurrying to her. “It’s you I’m worried about.” She hugged Kimberly. “How are you?”
“I don’t know yet. Very confused. So much has happened.”
“I’m glad you came with us. Let me introduce you to someone. Kimberly, this is my boyfriend.”
“So you’re not a lesbian?”
“Edmond.” The young man held out his hand, “You can call me Ned.”
“I’m Kimberly,” she said, taking his hand. “It’s very nice to finally meet you. Now, at least one of my million questions has been answered.”
“Let’s go. I think it’s time to take care of that million,” said Ruben. He put his hand around Kimberly’s back and led her to the stairs.
29
YEAR 1852
After they buried Gabriella, they all gathered in the library and listened to Samson tell them his plan.
“We are leaving,” he said at the end, “Hanna and Eleanor, go change, pack your weapons and things you need, it might be a long trip. The rest of you go prepare the horses.”
Eleanor walked into her room. As she opened the weapon’s chest, she heard Samson’s voice.
“Eleanor, I need to talk to you.”
A minute later Eleanor entered the study.
Samson stood beside the window, staring at the ocean.
“Samson,” Eleanor called.
He turned around.
“You wanted to talk to me?” said Eleanor.
Samson stepped to his desk. “You better sit down,” he said, pointing at the tall chair on the other side of it.
But Eleanor didn’t sit.
“This is serious, isn’t it? This is something bad.”
“Yes.” Samson sighed. “Eleanor, we’re in big trouble,” he said, folding his hands behind his back.
“What is it?” Eleanor asked anxiously.
“Downstairs, I said that Fray can turn people.”
“Yes.” nodded Eleanor.
“The thing is, I don’t think that he’s going to turn people. From what Henry told me, I understand he’s going to turn vampires.”
“No,” gasped Eleanor. “Is that even possible? Vampires don’t have a soul.”
“They don’t need one. All they need is a fresh blood. The absence of a soul will make the process much longer than usual, but in the end, they will wake up strong and invincible. Their cuts will heal even faster. Sun, fire, or stake wouldn’t be dangerous to them anymore.”
“Then we have to find Fray before he—”
“It’s already too late. He’s used the Book, I can feel it. He knew we would try to track him down, and if we found him, he might lose the Book. As I said, a couple of times his stops took much longer than was necessary to make the tracking line on the Map disappear, and they happened at the same place. If that place really is that church, there might be more vampires there.”
Samson’s words surprised Eleanor more and more. When he paused, she asked the question bothering her.
“Samson.” She looked at him with bewilderment. “I’m a little confused.”
Samson nodded but didn’t say anything.
“Why are you telling this to me?” she asked. “Why not Riley, or Craig, or Ruben? Why me?”
“Because, if it already happened, if Fray already turned them—then there’s only one thing left to do, and you are the only one who can do it.”
“I don’t understand. Do what?”
Samson walked to the window again and stood there, looking out.
“Samson, if there’s something I can do, I’ll do it. Just tell me what it is,” Eleanor said.
Samson looked at her. “Eleanor, you know that I love you. You are my family.”
“I love you, too. And I respect you and trust you.” Eleanor looked straight into his eyes. They were full of pain. “If we’re talking about our feelings, then I think what you need me to do is very dangerous. It might kill me.”
“It will kill you,” said Samson.
Eleanor felt the air streaming inside her through her open mouth. Her entire body froze. She didn’t feel anything. It was like her heart froze, too.
“If he’s already turned them and they’re transitioning, then only a dagger will be able to stop them, and we don’t have any of those. It doesn’t leave me a choice. You will have to close the Book.”
Eleanor scarcely heard Samson. His voice was muffled as if there were a thick barrier of glass between them. She had to die. She thought about Craig, imagined him holding her lifeless body. She’d never see Margaret again. Hanna had just lost Gabriella, and losing Eleanor as well would crush her. She stared at Samson.
“Craig,” she whispered. Her lips were shaking.
“Craig can’t know. Nobody can know. I’ll explain everything to them later. Eleanor, I just lost Gabriella, and I would never wish for anybody to go through what I’m going through right now. But we are Hunters, and we have a
mission to stop the dark powers. There is a chance we’ll get the Book back, but I don’t think we’ll be able to get the daggers. He knows that we’ll go after him, and I’m sure he’s prepared. If we let those transitioning vampires wake up, not only will we never be able to get the daggers and forever witness their violence, but there’s also a big chance that they’ll kill you all.”
Eleanor nodded.
“I understand,” she said, and her voice was strong again. “I’ll do it. I’m a Hunter, and I’m ready to do my duty. I have only one question. You said I’m the only one who can. Why? Is there something special about me? What is it that I have and the others don’t?”
“A daughter.”
“Margaret?” Eleanor froze again.
“Don’t be frightened. She’s safe. And keeping her safe will become our number one priority. Eleanor, when I said that I’m not losing anybody else, I meant it. Any of us who closes the Book will die. Myself included. I would do it in a heartbeat, but then the Book would remain closed forever. Only the same soul and the same blood will be able to open the Book again. You are the only one who has a child. Your bloodline will continue. One day you’ll come back, and the day you turn eighteen, the age you became a Hunter, the Book will recognize you the moment your blood spills on it.”
“Reincarnation,” whispered Eleanor.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“I don’t know. It can take ten, twenty years, maybe much longer. We failed, and we’ll be punished for that. You’ll come back when you’re allowed. The moment you open the Book, it will give you back everything—your memory, your feelings, your experience. It will give you back your life, and you will be the same Eleanor again.”
TODAY
Amanda opened her eyes.
She lay on a large soft bed. In front of her hung a portrait. A portrait of her and Craig. She was wearing a long emerald, silky gown with a full skirt, embroidered with rhinestones. Her dark brown hair was gathered up, and a few curls hung down her neck. Over her silky gloves, she wore a ring and the bracelet with golden coins. Standing beside her, Craig wore a black dress coat with an ivory vest, white shirt and a brown puff tie.
Amanda sat up and looked to the side where the whisper of the ocean was coming from. Craig stood with his back to the open balcony door. Behind him, the thin curtains swayed from the breeze. Her eyes met his warm, tender look.
“Craig.” Her legs slipped down from the bed.
“Eleanor,” he whispered.
And as he stepped toward her, Eleanor threw herself into his arms.
END OF BOOK ONE