His voice cracks and he suddenly goes quiet.
More tears roll down my face, but not for myself.
I can picture his face. How it is crumpled in emotion. How his skin grows red. How his lips quiver. How he holds a hand over his eyes, trying to rub out the emotions.
A small sob slips between my lips. Once more I cover my mouth with my hand, trying to hold myself together.
“Twelve days after we planned that trip, I held you in my arms as you looked up at me. You were too weak to move. But tears trailed down your cheeks as you looked up at me.” Cyrus’ voice trembles as he tells me the story.
And I realize, I don’t remember any of them. Not a single one of my deaths.
And for that I am grateful.
“I whispered that I loved you and that I would search for you again, until I found you,” Cyrus says. His voice sounds tired.
I purse my lips together for a moment, gathering myself. I wipe the tears from my skin. “Which death was that?” I ask. I don’t really want to know. But I do need to piece myself together.
“The sixth,” he tells me. “When you wore Edith’s face.”
Edith. I nod. The recollection of what he says, of being that woman with the blonde hair comes floating through my memory, but only as tangible as fog.
“You never asked me to call you any of their names before,” Cyrus says, bringing focus back to me. “Why did you ask me with this one?”
And despite how complicated that answer should be, the answer comes to me, crystal clear, in a single instant.
“Because she, I, wanted you to love her, as just her,” I answer honestly. “And because I think, that in some small measure, you did.”
He does not say anything. I can feel his turmoil, the struggle inside of himself.
Cyrus’ devotion to Sevan is unlike anything this world has ever seen before.
I understand that he cannot admit it. Even to himself. Even to me. Even to Logan. Especially to Sevan.
“I don’t know who I am more, Sevan or Logan,” I say, finding calm in my voice. “I don’t even know who I want to be called. I think it changes moment to moment. I suppose I’m both, and will be until I die again, however soon or far away that might be.”
“Don’t,” Cyrus says, life sparking into his voice again. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s okay,” I say hollowly, because I don’t really mean it. “I’m only trying to tell you that I want you to think about it. About your heart. About your truth. Because I’m trying to accept myself, as more than one person. I hope you’re one day able to be okay with loving all of the people I am and have been.”
“Logan,” he says, and a small smile forms on my lips, because he knows exactly who he’s talking to in this moment. “I…”
“I just needed to hear your voice,” I say, cutting him off. “And I wanted you to know that I do miss you.”
The words don’t express how badly I do.
“Please,” he says, his voice sounding defeated. “Come home.”
I shake my head. “It isn’t time yet,” I tell him. “I’m not ready. And there are still some things I need to take care of.”
He’s quiet for a moment. I know the struggle this must be for him. He’s a man who tells people what to do. He does not have to wait for them.
But he will wait for me.
“Alright,” he accepts. “I will continue to try to understand. But Logan?”
My heart skips a beat at hearing him call me that.
“Yes?” I breathe.
“May I please call you?” he asks. “Just from time to time? It’s a relief just to hear your voice.”
I smile. “Yes, that would be alright.”
I can feel it. Clear across the world. Continents apart. His smile.
“I’ll talk to you later, Cyrus,” I say.
“Goodnight, Logan,” he says. And I smile, too.
“Goodnight.”
Chapter 10
I’ve never been anywhere near this far east, so it’s kind of disappointing that I’m doing all this travel, and it’s in the dark.
We leave Texas behind, and then cross through Louisiana. The terrain is so flat, it feels weird to me. Like I’m too exposed. I’ve gotten used to mountains surrounding me my entire life.
“So, are you originally from Mississippi?” I ask Rath.
“I am,” he says with a grim nod.
“Then why don’t you have a Southern accent?” I ask, teasing just a little.
He looks out the window. “It was part conscious effort, part that most of my communication was with someone who did not have one.”
“My grandfather,” I say, clarifying.
Rath nods.
“How old are you?” I ask. “And what exactly are you? Because I can tell you’re not a vampire, but you certainly don’t smell exactly human?”
“Look at the stones on Logan!” Eshan says from the back seat. “I’ve been wondering the whole time, but I sure wasn’t going to call his species into question.”
My face flushes, but really, I want to know.
“I’m old enough to think the world has become a better and worse place than it once was,” Rath says. “And as for what I am? I am just a man.”
“Being vague is your game, I guess,” I say with the shake of my head. “Man of mystery.”
“My past is complicated. There are some very dark times I went through,” he says as he looks out into the dark. “It’s a burden I do not feel the need to share with anyone who doesn’t absolutely need to know.”
I glance over at him.
I think I always knew it. You don’t carry around that kind of darkness in your eyes, don’t always hold that kind of grim, somber look on your face, without some kind of hardship in your past.
“I understand,” I say quietly.
The GPS says we’re only an hour away from Silent Bend when Eshan starts breathing hard. I look into the back seat, and see that his eyes have begun glowing a faint yellow.
Suddenly a little burn ignites in my own throat. I swallow once, but the fire grows hotter by the moment.
I haven’t drunk since I was in Las Vegas.
“Pull over now,” Rath says. “Better you drink farther from the House. It’s one of Alivia’s rules. If you must drink fresh, you do it far from Silent Bend.”
I look over at him, my brows furrowing.
But as I look back at the cooler in the back seat, I see that it’s empty.
I take the next exit. And dread forms a thick knot in my stomach when I think about what Eshan and I are about to do.
But my hunting instincts go into overdrive the minute we park in the lot of a gas station.
“If either of us takes things too far, shoot us with those darts,” I instruct Rath. With a look in Eshan’s direction, I grab the front of his shirt and yank him out of the car.
He was staring at Rath like a meal.
We wait in the shadows, silent. And when a trucker totters out of the side bathroom, I don’t hesitate.
I grip him by the front of his shirt, yanking him to me.
My fangs sink into his neck, instantly paralyzing him.
Gross. He tastes like stale nachos and day old donuts.
But the first pull of blood brings a moan from my lips.
Eshan takes his wrist, and sinks his fangs into his flesh.
We’re both brand new vampires, Eshan and I. No new vampires have very good control in the beginning.
I know this.
So I was kind of counting on Rath having to use those darts on us.
I’m not surprised, when after six good pulls of the man’s blood, Eshan jerks away with a groan of pain.
A moment later, a strong hand clamps down on my shoulder, pulling me firmly away.
I face him, a hiss on my lips, my fangs bared.
But Rath’s face is only calm, his eyes determined.
“That’s enough, Logan,” he calmly says. “Leave the man to recover.”
> I look back at the trucker. His eyes are closed, his head lolled to one side. He’s pale, but not deathly so to the point of turning.
I take a breath, telling myself that I took enough to hold me over. Even though my throat still burns. Gently, I drag him to the side of the building. I prop him up there, balancing him so he doesn’t fall over.
Rath digs through the trash for a moment, before producing an empty beer bottle. He walks over and stages it in the poor man’s hand.
“What if he remembers?” I ask.
“It’s doubtful,” Rath says. He grabs hold of Eshan and hauls him up and over his shoulder. “And if he does, who would believe him? What proof is there?”
I look back over my shoulder at the poor man as we walk back to the car. I help Rath get Eshan positioned in the back seat and climb into the driver’s once more.
“I’m a little tired of having the brain of multiple people,” I say as I back out of the space and aim once more for the freeway. “Because this is where Sevan is grateful that there are willing feeders in Roter Himmel. No unwitting victims of our thirst, like that man there. But then Logan is kind of disgusted and baffled that actual humans willingly live in a place like that, where they know they’re going to be fed off of, over and over.”
“It’s difficult to even imagine what you’re going through,” Rath says.
“So you understand why I wasn’t quite ready to return to Roter Himmel, where everyone expects me to just go back to normal. Where everyone only acknowledges Sevan and expects me to only be her.”
I swallow once, thinking of how difficult it’s been, every single time. “You understand why I’m not yet ready to go back to the man that did this to me.”
“I understand,” Rath says quietly.
The miles go by too fast. Louisiana disappears one mile at a time, and it’s not long before I see the Mississippi River coming up on the GPS screen. And a moment later, the town name of Silent Bend joins it.
I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until my tires hit the enormous bridge that crosses the river and state lines. My knuckles are white as they grip the steering wheel, and I actually have to tell myself not to crush it.
“Alivia has many faults,” Rath says as we cross that bridge. “Has made many mistakes. But she is also a good leader. Someone who cares greatly about those that surround her. The tale that Cyrus has told you of her is just one side of the story.”
I look over at Rath as we reach the other side of the bridge. And the storm inside of me calms just a little bit.
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
I focus on the road before me once again. I try to pay attention. This town is significant to my family, my history.
With the guidance of the GPS, I turn off the highway and onto a road that leads right into the heart of the town.
I enter the main road just by the river. The head of Main Street begins at the water’s edge. And there, just before the land falls into the water, there is a gigantic tree. Stones circle it; it sits there like the centerpiece of town. But it’s entirely dead. Not a single leaf clings to its blackened branches, despite being the end of July. A shiver works its way down my spine when I look at it.
There’s a church, and then another one. A beautiful city building sits on the south side of the road. A few restaurants. A grocery store. And then the schools, elementary, middle, and high.
Then the GPS tells me to turn left, past a few neighborhoods.
My eyes glance down at the screen. One minute until we arrive at our destination.
My heart rate increases. My palms grow sweaty.
Rath glances over at me once.
“Are you nervous, too?” I ask.
“Yes,” he admits. “This was my home for a very, very long time. But I have not seen it in sixteen years.”
I reach over and take his hand. “Thank you,” I say as I glance over at him. “For protecting me all of those years. I know I was just mad at first because I didn’t understand who you really were. But thank you. I realize now just how much you sacrificed.”
He looks at me. He doesn’t say a word. But he nods.
“Arrived,” the GPS voice chirps.
And I turn to the left, where Rath points.
A gigantic stone fence wraps around the property, sprawling out in either direction. A huge gate, built with intricate iron, blocks our way. The crest of a raven is set in the center, the name CONRATH inlaid beneath it.
“Do I-” I begin to ask.
“Just wait a moment,” Rath says. And then nods his head when the gates slowly begin to open.
My entire body is trembling as I let off the brake and roll forward.
After twenty years of not even knowing the woman’s name, I’m finally going to meet her. Face to face.
The grounds are amazing. Gigantic trees line the driveway. Long tendrils of moss hang down from their branches. Flowering bushes are splashed everywhere. The grounds stretch wide and grassy.
But ahead, a house crests into view.
The middle section is white, with gigantic pillars holding the roof up. The wings spanning to the left and right are sided in stone.
It’s massive.
And beautiful.
It looks like something out of a fairy tale.
“How old is the house?” I ask, admiring the classic Southern plantation style.
“It was built in 1799,” Rath produces the fact without a moment of hesitation.
“Amazing,” Logan marvels. There’s nothing like this in Colorado. Nothing even close.
Rath directs me to park in front of the garage, which is on the south side of the house. I feel like I’m vibrating as I put the car into park. My entire body is electric. On high alert. Fight or flight.
But still, I climb out. I’m pretty sure my heart is going to pound out of my chest.
Rath takes Eshan and slings him over his shoulder.
And together, we walk up the sidewalk to the massive front porch. I take a deep breath, raising my fist to knock on the front door.
But suddenly it opens.
A woman with tears brimming in her eyes smiles at me.
“Hello, Logan.”
Chapter 11
A breath slips between my lips. My face feels numb. All the blood in my body stops moving.
It’s very nearly like looking in a mirror.
That’s my jawline. That’s my exact nose. Our hair is nearly the exact same shade. Same ears. Same eye shape.
My lips are just slightly fuller than hers. My brow isn’t quite as strong. I’m slightly shorter than she is, but with a few more curves.
But everyone has been right.
I look just like her.
And finally, I can’t deny it myself.
“You’re so young.” The words slip out of my mouth before I can think about them.
And she smiles, and a little laugh rushes over her lips.
“I guess there are some perks to immortality,” she says, smiling and looking me over.
What I said is true. Alivia Ryan Conrath looks hardly older than myself. Maybe a few years, but not much.
She looks like…like she could be my sister, and the both of us should be heading out for a night on the town.
She doesn’t look anything like a woman who has been the leader of a House for sixteen years.
“I…” I shake my head, trying to get myself together. “I mean, I knew you’d been Resurrected for a while, I guess I just had this picture of you in my head. You looked…”
“A lot closer to your mother’s age?” she takes a guess.
Her eyes are full of fear, nerves. Her throat is tight, and I can smell the sweat on her palms.
I nod. “I guess.”
I finally take a look around, now that the initial shock of seeing Alivia for the first time is over.
The inside of the house is even more beautiful than I expected. A beautiful staircase wraps around the entry and rises to the second floor. Beyond this space, I
can see a great ballroom. Ornate carvings are inlaid into the walls. Gold and blue and green are scattered everywhere.
Above us, I find a brilliant, gorgeous chandelier.
It’s stunning.
Cyrus’ house that he bought back in Greendale was beautiful. But it is nothing compared to Alivia’s house.
I realize now that there had been a long, weighted silence, and I look back to my birth mother.
Her eyes are fixed on Rath, who stands beside me with my brother slung over his shoulders.
“Rath,” she says in an emotional whisper. “It is so good to see you.”
She rushes forward and wraps her arms around the man she sent to watch over me, all those years ago.
Balancing Eshan, he wraps one arm around Alivia, and I see the complicated emotions on his face as he presses his cheek into the top of her head. He squeezes his eyes closed tightly, his lips pressed into a thin line.
They might have a complicated past, whatever it is, just like Cyrus, but it’s evident in every inch of his face. Rath loves Alivia. Cares a very great deal for her.
“It is good to be home,” he says. And as soon as he says the word, I know he truly means home with every single syllable.
There’s still so, so much I don’t know about Rath.
“I assume this is your brother?” Alivia asks as she releases Rath, looking from Eshan to me.
I nod. “He was turned a few days ago. I…” I shake my head. “I don’t even know what to tell my parents. They think he ran off to see some girl he met online. I don’t know what he’s supposed to tell them when you fix him and he goes back.”
“I’m afraid we all have stories to tell when we get involved with this world,” she says with a tired expression.
Something sharp and hot spikes inside my chest at her words.
I swallow once, but nod, instead of opening my mouth and spilling vile words.
“I’d love to just sit and…talk,” Alivia says, turning hopeful eyes on me. “But I’m sure you’re hungry, and tired from a really long road trip,” she chuckles just a little. “Why don’t we get your brother settled, and then you can eat?”