'Eve!' I feel him shake me, watch him press his face right up against mine. I hear the words 'move' and 'Law Officers' but can't put them into any context concerning me. He's dragging me, his long fingers gripped roughly around my bicep, compelling me to run. The familiar sights whip by as I stumble along behind him, lost in a fog I can't seem to escape. I can feel presences behind us, maybe Immortals, but I can't focus my senses long enough to determine them.
Vlad shoves me roughly into the back of a black taxi and yells at the driver to step on it, directing him through some random back streets, keeping off the main roads.
'That was close,' I finally hear him say, letting out a shaky breath of relief. 'Are you with me, Eve?' He nudges my arm. I stare out of the window at the orange street lamps passing by. 'I'm sorry.' He continues, and I vaguely register the guilty expression on his face. He was the one who suggested we go there, it was his idea to knock on the door. 'I didn't... I should have known better than to do that. I know what it's like to lose a parent.' I remember Asil's story, told to me in the kitchen of the little house. Vlad lost both of his parents at the same time when he was just sixteen. But at the moment, I have no sympathy left for him. 'I know how hard it is,' He continues. 'But I don't know how hard it must be to remain living far away from them, unable to see them or to show them you're alive and well. And now – ' He blows air out through his lips. 'Now she'll never know. I'm so sorry.'
'I don't care about that,' My voice is strangled, my throat constricted. 'I never cared about showing her I was alive and well. She hadn't seen me for years before my transformation. I just – ' My voice catches. 'I needed to know that she's still out there somewhere. That she's still alive and well. And now... '
'And now you know she's not,' Vlad nods, sighing heavily. There's a long pause. 'God knows what my parents would make of me were they still alive. I dread to imagine the shame I'd warrant them; the way I left Asil behind to fend for himself amongst the Auctoritas. The fact that I took him to them in the first place. Despite having taken care of him in my human life, I haven't done so in my Immortal one. What about you?' He turns to me suddenly. 'I know your human life wasn't a pious one, have you made up for it in your Immortal life so far?'
'I know what you're trying to do,' I murmur, my eyes cast downwards. 'And I thank you for it. But no amount of praise for my repentance will make up for the fact that my mother is... ' He waits a few minutes for me to continue, but eventually realises that I can't. Outside, the world passes by in a blur of bright lights and loud noise, but here in the taxi, the silence deafens me.
My mother, my beautiful, kind, patient mother, is gone. I never got to say goodbye. The last time I saw her was through the kitchen window on a rainy winter's night. I watched her make tea. She didn't see me. She died not knowing where I was, if I was alive or dead. She died with a broken heart and it's all my fault.
My thoughts run circles around my mind until I can't think any more and even my own voice inside my head becomes nothing but a dull, senseless buzz.
Chapter Nineteen
Eve.
On the flight back to Bangkok there are two seats booked together in one row, and another single seat on the opposite side of the plane. I take the single one, and Vlad doesn't try to convince me otherwise. I see him mutter something to Slav who gives me a long stare, but I collapse into my seat and turn away. Vlad cranes back to look at me every thirty seconds but not once do I meet his eye. I don't meet anyone's eye, not even the air hostess who offers me a pillow. I don't pretend to be asleep with the other humans, as I should. I just sit, blankly staring out of the window at the darkness below. When we reach Pattaya, we don't head for the busy harbour – which is bound to be crawling with Law Officers by now – instead we make for a quieter part of the coast and wait on the sand for Asil, who arrives in the same sail boat we left on.
'Hey, Eve!' He greets me with his trademark toothy grin, blocking my way onto the boat. I keep my eyes straight ahead, fixed on the horizon. 'How was the trip? Bet you were surprised to see Malachy!' I go to step past him, but he deliberately blocks my way. 'So, listen, Eve, there was something I tried to tell you before, back on the island. I think you ought to know – '
'Asil!' Vlad barks, setting a firm hand on his brother's shoulder. 'Leave her.' He steers Asil away from me, allowing me to pass, but I don't express my gratitude. As I head to the back of the boat, I hear the brothers muttering, hear the words 'mother' and 'died.' I try to block them out, as if that way I can pretend that the trip to my parents' house never happened. It was all just a figment of my imagination and my mother is still out there somewhere, wondering where I am, worrying about me. I think that's why I can't bear to look at Vlad; as the only other witness, he reminds me that it was real.
Vlad, Slav and Asil leave me well alone as we sail towards Vlad's island. Instead of waiting for the boat to stop, I jump off into the water, swimming alone to the shore. The white sand is covered with bodies, mostly dressed in lilac cotton. The old Rebels are sitting around in groups, laughing, talking, as if the world hasn't stopped turning. None of them approach me, thankfully, but Lorna comes bounding across the sand the moment she sees me, pulling me into a dry hug. I shrug her off but she doesn't seem to notice, trotting along beside me as I make my way through the palm trees.
' – Can't believe what these people have been through! And they're all so nice! Well, most of them. Patrick and Katherine are – ' I tense at the sound of my mother's name but Lorna keeps babbling, oblivious. 'Anyway, what was the trip like? How did it feel to be back in London? Did Vlad tell you why you went there?'
'Lorna,' My voice is flat, dull, not my own. 'Just leave me alone. Please.' I add.
'Oh, Eve,' Her face drops but she doesn't stop walking beside me. She seems to be struggling for something to say, for a moment she looks like she might cry and I wonder if somehow she knows about my mum. 'I knew you might be a bit confused, maybe even upset but I didn't think you'd be mad. I thought – '
'Lorna, I don't have a clue what you're talking about.'
'Oh,' She frowns. 'But I thought he'd spoken to you. I thought that's why you look so pissed off... '
'Please leave me alone.' I have no desire to ask Lorna what she's waffling about, I just want to be by myself. Something in my tone or my expression seems to stop her and she falls back amongst the palm trees as I keep walking over to the other side of the island. I lay down on the sand and stare up at the blue sky, watching a solitary white cloud as it drifts across the sun.
I'm not sure exactly how long I stay like that, but the sun eventually sinks below the earth and the moon rises, pale and almost full. The stars – of which there are an abundance – twinkle overhead and white birds swoop down to land in the water. I can hear the Rebels over the other side, talking, laughing, yelling. I can't distinguish conversations, probably because I'm doing the best I can to block them out.
Sometime – maybe a few hours – later, I hear footsteps crunching towards me. A scent carries on the breeze, alerting me to Lorna's presence. She sits down on the sand beside me and cranes her neck to stare up at the sky. If she's waiting for me to speak, she'd best get comfortable.
After a time, she begins to rattle off the usual clichés and I pretend to listen, but nothing she says helps. She eventually leaves, her shoulders stooped with disappointment or guilt, I don't care which.
The next morning, Vlad visits my lonely patch of island where I lay, sprawled out in the same position I've maintained for over twelve hours. He sits down next to me, his leather jacket – which appears to be spray-painted on – creaking with his movements. 'I brought you this.' He lifts something in his left hand and I smell plastic and a faint meaty aroma.
'I don't want it.'
'Eve,' He sighs, lowering the plastic pouch. 'You need to feed.'
'I don't want it.'
He taps his fingers against the bag, turning his head out to sea. Doesn't he realise that he's the last person I want to talk to? Doesn'
t he realise that I can't be around him? I know he didn't mean any harm, but it's his fault that I know my mum is dead. If he hadn't suggested going to the house, I might have eventually climbed back into the cab, gone to the airport and come back to the island in blissful ignorance. I might be sitting over the other side with the Rebels, laughing and getting to know one another, thinking that, somewhere, my mum still walks the Earth. 'I'm sorry,' He whispers into the night air, as if he can read minds. 'I should never have knocked on that door.'
'But you did.'
'I know,' He nods gravely. 'It was a mistake. Like I said, I should have known better.' I know it's not fair to let him torture himself, but I so desperately want someone to blame. Other than myself. 'If it's any consolation,' He turns to look at me. I fix my eyes on the stars above. 'It would have happened eventually. We've all had to watch our loved ones die from afar. It's never easy.'
What a thing to say. I open my mouth to ask him if he possesses a shred of sensitivity, but the words die on my lips. I can't be bothered. Vlad talks, continues to say the wrong thing time and again, and I listen, wishing I had someone here who knew what to say. Wishing Malachy was here.
Finally, he stands and trudges across the sand back to the others. He leaves the pouch beside me but I don't touch it. At least, not until morning when I start to feel woozy. That evening, Vlad returns, and his footsteps hold more of an urgency than they did before.
'Eve, get up,' His voice has a hard edge to it and for the first time in two days I feel something other than the dull ache of loss. I feel irritated. 'This has gone on long enough. I'm sorry about your mother, truly, I am, but you can't just lie here on this island for the rest of eternity.'
'Why not?' I mumble, scooting over so I can see the moon again.
'Because there are things to be done. We're in the middle of a rebellion here, a rebellion you helped start. Sometimes you just have to push your feelings aside and get on with life.'
'Get on with life?' I snort. 'I've got endless life. There's no rush for me to get over the death of my mum.'
'Yes, there is. We're trying to build a future here. A better future for every Immortal and we can't stop every time one of the Rebels – '
'I didn't ask you to stop!' I sit up suddenly, feeling white hot rage surge through my abdomen. 'I've done enough for your Rebellion. I broke Lorna Gray out of the Institute, I came to Thailand to find you, I convinced Malachy to join you, I've played my part!' I exaggerate.
'Your part is far from over! You're a key member of the Rebellion whether you like it or not. Your connections to Lorna and to Malachy – '
'You know nothing about them! Lorna was just using me to get her out of the Institute. I was a pawn in her game. And Malachy – ' I hesitate. 'You don't know anything about Malachy and I.'
'Get up, Eve! Now!'
'No!'
'Get up!' He grabs hold of my forearms and yanks me to my feet. Childishly, I let my weight drop, like a toddler throwing a wobbly in a supermarket. Vlad clings on tight, not allowing me to fall. He drags me across the sand whilst I kick and thrash like a newborn. 'Is this what you want?' He bellows, roughly pinning my arms by my sides. 'Is this who you are? A manic, over-emotional imbecile throwing a hissy fit because I won't allow you to waste away on the sand?'
'My mother is dead!' I shriek, wriggling out of his grasp and pummelling his chest with my fists. The blows feel good. As my bare hands connect with his torso, I feel some of my anger, some of my emotion drain away. 'She's dead. My mother is dead.' I say it over and over, and each time, it gets a little easier. Vlad doesn't fight back, just holds my body still as I punch him with all the strength I possess.
I don't know how long we stand like that; me beating the shit out of Vlad and him letting me do it. I don't lose strength, I don't burn out – I can't – but, after a time, the urge to hit Vlad lessens and I enter a kind of mental exhaustion. Finally, I flop against him, drained, and he holds me upright. Slowly, as though I might start hitting him again, he reaches up and brushes my hair away from my face. He repeats it again and again, as though he knows it's something my mother used to do when I was a child. Rather than upsetting me, it soothes me, and I let him do it whilst I listen to the little waves lapping gently at the sand.
'Feel better?' He mumbles against my head. I nod, forcing myself to stand alone. He watches me warily, seemingly waiting for something.
'My mother is dead.' I repeat one last time.
'Yes, she is.' Vlad nods carefully. Then we walk together through the palm trees, back to the other Rebels.
*
Through the night I sit with Vlad, Lorna, Asil and Vanessa, trying not to think about my mum as we discuss the prospects of an Immortal world without Sirus as ruler. Vlad sits closer to me than he normally would, and every now and then he sneaks a glance my way, making sure I'm all right. Usually this would irritate me, but instead of feeling hateful towards him for sharing a sad moment, I feel like we have a connection. I feel gratitude.
More than once Lorna asks what the next stage of the plan is, but neither Vlad nor Vanessa will indulge us. When I point out how long we've been on the island, and how close the Army must be to finding us, Vlad assures me that we'll soon be moving on, but he won't say where to.
When the sun breaks over the horizon, I'm sitting with Zoe and some of the other old Rebels, listening to them recount the story of their Rebellion, and their imprisonment in the confine. I'm so fascinated by their tales, I don't notice Asil setting off on the small white sail boat until he's little more than a dot in the distance. 'Where's Asil going?' I ask Vlad, drawing him away from his conversation with Vanessa. She purses her lips at me as if she'd love nothing more than for me to disappear over the other side of the island again.
'For supplies. We're running out of pouches.'
I nod, watching Lorna as she waves at the little sail boat until she can't see it any more. A few hours later, when the sun is at its highest, the white sails appear again, heading in our direction. The old Rebels spot it, looking relieved. I suppose that, having gone so long without blood, the thought of when their next meal may be is never far from their minds.
As the boat grows nearer, I, like the others, realise there is more than one body aboard. I glance at Vlad, who looks unsurprised, as does Vanessa, but the rest of the Rebels appear as curious – and wary – as I.
'Who's that with Asil?' Lorna appears at my side, her eyes wide, her shoulders tense. There appears to be four people on the boat, and as they jump into the water, I recognise Asil's curly hair at the front of the procession. When he reaches land, he straightens and walks, dripping wet, straight towards Lorna. His expression is unreadable, but I think I see a flash of something resembling guilt. Guilt and possibly fear. My insides squirm uncomfortably and I turn my attention back to the three newcomers, who are wading towards our island.
'Lorna,' Asil's voice sounds strange, not light and friendly as it usually does. I watch the two people at the front of the line tread onto the dry sand. 'I didn't know – ' I don't recognise these two, their faces are unfamiliar to me. 'I thought I was just going to get supplies. You have to believe me, I didn't – '
'What are you talking about?' Lorna's tone is fearful, her heart rate goes up.
The two strangers step aside, heading off in Vlad's direction, and as they do, I spot the third figure, just stepping out of the water. My instant reaction is to grab Lorna's hand, and it seems her instant reaction is to grab mine. I hear the little jump in her heart beat, feel her pulse throbbing against my skin, hear the fear in her rapid breaths. 'Eve.' She breathes my name as the figure's eyes seek hers out, lighting with elation when they spot her.
Sir Alec Gray moves with a speed I've only seen him use once before; on my first night at the Institute when I questioned his sanity. He stops a foot short of Lorna, eyeing her as if she's a possession he's regained. Standing there in Sir Alec's shadow, clutching Lorna's hand, I barely notice Asil positioning himself in front of her, as V
lad races to my side. 'Lorna,' Sir Alec's familiar and unwelcome voice is overwhelmed with relief. 'Are you all right? Have they hurt you?'
'What are you doing here?' She breathes, turning away from him, stepping closer to me. She notices Vlad standing at my side. 'What is he doing here?'
'I'm sorry, Lorna.' Vlad can't quite meet her eyes, and in his voice is genuine regret.
'Vlad?' I frown at him, but he won't look at me, either.
'I got your message,' Sir Alec turns to Vlad, oblivious to the confusion unfolding before him. 'What do you want?'
Vlad takes a deep breath, stepping away from me towards Sir Alec. 'Your loyalty,' Vlad says confidently. 'In exchange for your daughter.'
'Vlad!'
'No!'
'What are you doing?!'
A few things happen at the same time, almost too quickly for my Immortal eyes to follow. Lorna breaks down in tears, her knees buckling beneath her weight as she clings to my forearm. Asil launches himself at Vlad, knocking his brother sideways with the impact. Sir Alec makes a grab for Lorna, but I manage to put myself between him and her. 'You sneaky, backstabbing, lying piece of – '
The Gray Institute_Rebels' Hell Page 23