Awakened Page 14

  “But where are you to go?” asked la Luxure inside me. “We are one, boy, and I will not be denied.” It sniggered and then settled, allowing me a moment of peace, but I wasn’t fooled.

  I continued to run past each house, each innocent victim, into the solidarity of the woods. Soon, Deek would take me away, lock me up, and throw away the key. Soon.

  “Soon I will have her,” crooned the beast in my belly. “Soon we will have her.”

  “Over my dead body,” I whispered, quieting la Luxure.

  It receded, lying in wait for them moment when I admitted that I, Kale, was already gone, and all that remained was him, the beast, la Luxure de Sang.

  Chapter 16

  Ella

  “Are you ready for the next lesson?” Laurent’s smooth voice floated between us, soft and calm, meant only for my ears, though Ana and Darke with their Chorý hearing stood several feet away on the other side of the large marble floored room.

  At first, I had been hesitant to learn anything from Laurent, but I quickly learned that his first lesson would do me very well to absorb. He’d taught me how to focus the energy from a memory and push it out, without leaving any sickness behind. I had a memory of a man in a forest hunting a deer, and afterwards there was no pain, dizziness, or nausea.

  His gaze always held a glint of anger, but my progress seemed to please Laurent. His gentle and rewarding behavior had me on edge. Around me, he often tried to seem calm and unhurried, yet here we were at the crack of dawn, going over Laurent’s lessons.

  For the past two days, Laurent had brought me to this room where the windows were wall to ceiling and at least ten feet tall. The floor was some Italian marble that I had face-planted into a few times, prompting Laurent’s growls of displeasure. Only yesterday was I able to do each task he asked of me. At times it seemed impossible to concentrate on what Laurent wanted while wondering where Kale was and if he would be able to find me, but fear of upsetting Laurent pushed me to get the task done.

  “Let’s see what you remember, shall we?” Laurent pulled an antique sepia picture from his breast pocket. I couldn’t tell who the girl was, but I knew the shine of bright emerald eyes and glossy black hair, even though I didn’t know who she was. I turned away, unsure what Laurent meant by showing me a picture of someone so similar to me.

  “Look at the picture, Ella,” Laurent demanded sharply, without a trace of the approval it had yesterday.

  My gaze snapped up to his face and not the picture.

  “Do you fear this picture, Ella?” Laurent purred.

  His question struck me in the chest. I feared to learn of the fate of the girl in the picture. She looked oddly similar to me, and in the memories, I’d never seen Hélène, just lived in her shoes for a few short moments.

  “Look. At. The. Picture,” Laurent said again, through clenched teeth.

  I tore my eyes from him and to the brown stained picture just as Laurent started to move closer to me. “Who is it?”

  “You tell me,” he demanded and forced the picture into my hand. “You think that you know the truth about the past, that what the Council has told you is true, but you are wrong, dear. There is so much more to the story,” Laurent claimed. “You don’t know how I came to be, why you are what you are, or why the Council was truly created.”

  “And let me guess: You’ll be the only one to tell me the truth?” I asked derisively. Only after the words were out of my mouth did I remember whom I was talking to.

  The muscle in Laurent’s jaw twitched, and his gaze went cold.

  “Look, I—” I fidgeted nervously. My mouth was bound to get me in trouble.

  “I understand, Ella. Trust me, I do,” he said coolly.

  His calm tone surprised me. Laurent placed the photo in his pocket and moved closer to me. His sharp woodsy scent assaulted my senses, and he pushed a lock of hair from my face. I stiffened.

  “You have been fed lies, from everyone who has informed you of our past how they saw fit. I don’t expect you to believe me. Why would you? They have called me a liar and a murderer and have only shown you a side of me that disappeared long ago, and that is exactly why I have been training you.”

  I looked up at him, my brow creased in confusion.

  Laurent smirked. “Yes, Ella.” He chuckled low in his throat. “I have been preparing you for the truth, but not from my mouth, as I knew you wouldn’t believe me.” He moved in a lazy circle around me, stopping only once he stood in front of me again.

  “How do you plan to tell me, then?” I asked hesitantly and backed away from him, crossing my arms over my chest. The lace dress that Ana had laid out for me was incredibly uncomfortable, but I resisted the urge to tug and scratch. He was so close that I could smell his overwhelming sandalwood scent.

  “I won’t reveal a thing. You will remember it on your own, a memory without the physical pain and suffering. I only wish I could save you from the heartache of the truth that will follow.”

  I glanced to Darke in the corner, remembering the truth that he’d told me about my parents. Was that what Laurent was talking about? Or was there more?

  Laurent regarded me silently for a few moments. “I plan to call the memory of the day that started all this. The day someone set into motion events that would dictate my actions and yours, as well.” He abruptly turned away from me and headed over to Darke. He shooed Ana away and whispered something to Darke. Darke nodded, glanced at me, and left the room.

  “Where are they going?” I asked quietly, my nerves on edge. Was Laurent speaking about my parents? Did he know who had killed my parents that night? Though I’d believed it was a hit-and-run driver, Darke had me believing otherwise. I had been too nervous and swept up in my growing emotions for Kale those weeks ago when I wanted to ask him to help me remember, and I now regretted that. I thought myself weak then, but I was ready now.

  “They are going to pack our things.”

  “Pack our things? I placed my hand over my chest where I’d hid the necklace that Kale had given me. “Why?”

  Laurent moved in front of me gently placing his knuckles on my cheek. “Because, my child, once you see the bittersweet truth, I believe you will willingly come with me to France and aid me in my plans, which include the destruction of the Council and their leader, Aleixandre.”

  ***

  Darke

  The Council had only a matter of hours before we were to leave, taking with us the only clues as to where we would go. I had done my part to try to help them, though now I wondered if there was more that I could have done or if maybe I was crazy for my betrayal of Laurent.

  “What’s wrong?” Anastaise placed her small hand in mine as we headed toward the main house and to Ella’s quarters.

  I hadn’t told her of my plans, in case Laurent uncovered my betrayal early. I moved her hand from my tainted one and smiled at her. She was smarter than most gave her credit for: she could see things that even Laurent’s trained eye seemed to miss.

  “Nothing,” I lied. “I am just ready to return to Paris. This island reminds me of a prison, shrouded in trees and useless animals. Once we return to France, Ella will have a personal guard and I will be free of babysitting her.” I had hoped that this wasn’t the case. I needed the Council to find Ella before we left, and there was no way for me to know if they had found the clue I’d left behind. Ella was nineteen and had another eight years of use with Laurent, if his anger didn’t get the best of him.

  For a reason unknown to Laurent, the Eternal nomads who cursed an Arc with second sight only allotted a certain amount of years that she could carry the burden. Maybe it was to allow them normal lives, or maybe it was to cause their deaths. Who knew? I would never know, because the nomads hadn’t been seen again since they’d granted immortality to Aleixandre and his men, and I believed that they would probably never be found again.

  Ana’s frown deepened. “Is that all?” she asked skeptically as we entered Ella’s room.

  I passed her t
o the closet and pulled down the Louis Vuitton travel case that had been purchased for Ella. I set it on the bed. Anastaise pulled her gaze from me and began to empty the armoire that held the dresses and gowns that Laurent bought to spoil Ella before his sudden trip to Rome. I pulled out several garment bags and another expensive suitcase and put them all out in front of Anastaise.

  Her face was grim, and her eyes held a trace of doubt. I wasn’t sure what she thought she knew, but it was time to ask.

  “What are you truly asking me, Anastaise?” I asked, a bit rougher than I’d intended to.

  She stopped mid-step and turned to me, her expression pained. “I know that I am not the Arc, and for some reason the sight skipped me and held to Hélène, but there are times where I swear that my dreams aren’t dreams at all.”

  “Excuse me?” I moved closer to her. She had never let me in on this distress before, and I wondered how long she’d been experiencing it. Anastaise looked absently past me, toward the wall. “I see things sometimes, horrible things.”

  She stopped and took a shuddering breath. “Last night, I saw—I mean, I dreamed…” Ana closed her eyes as if calling upon the dream again to prove it existed. “I saw your death by your brother’s hand.” Her eyes popped open and searched mine.

  I wasn’t surprised at all that I could die by my brother’s hands, but I was concerned that maybe the sight hadn’t skipped Anastaise, after all. If Laurent ever learned that she may have been gifted with second sight or anything similar, he would never let her go, even if he managed to keep his Arc.

  Anastaise moved toward me, never once taking her eyes off of mine, and I held her unnaturally bright gaze with every bit a strength that I had.

  “What have you done, Darke? I feel it,” she admitted somberly. “Whatever it is, it happens tonight.”

  I pulled her close and hugged her. I towered over her and needed to take a knee in order to face her directly. “Sophie, when the time comes, you must do as Laurent says and nothing else. Do not defend me in any way, do you understand?” I warned her.

  It would be very important that Laurent never believed that Sophie knew anything of my deceit. I never once believed that Sophie was the Arc, but I believed that her dream was in fact a vision of some sort, and I could only believe that the Council would come for Ella tonight. I only prayed that they would save Sophie and as well as Ella. Ella was a good girl; she would fight for Sophie’s safety.

  “But—”

  I gave her a rough shake that rattled her teeth. “No ‘but’s, Sophie. When the time comes, deny me and everything about me. If you are given the chance to follow Ella to the Council, do it.”

  Her eyes widened. We both knew that any Chorý within miles of a Council member was a walking target, and asking Sophie to trust them may have put a larger target on her back. I could only hope that the Council would see Sophie as more than a target, after she helped Ella escape.

  Chapter 17

  Ella

  “Ready,” I confirmed as I lay on my back in the chaise lounge in the dusty room where I’d first met Laurent. He towered over me, his large well-muscled frame draped in a white silk collared shirt buttoned to his neck, black dress pants, and what looked like riding boots. He’d changed for travel, and so had I at his request—well, at his demand. I wore a long-sleeved cerulean silk dress and wheat-colored cardigan.

  I could hardly understand why he’d called something so flimsy and light “travel clothes,” but I was too anxious to question it. I would soon find out what really happened to my parents. My stomach protested the idea, while my brain begged for the truth.

  Laurent was silent for a bit. “Close your eyes, dear.” He said it almost too softly, too gently for a man like him.

  I hesitated, which earned me a warning glare. I closed my eyes and settled into the lounge chair, waiting for his next instructions. I felt him kneel beside me, felt his breath on my cheek, and his hand on my hand that rested on my stomach.

  “You will remember for me,” he stated simply—not as a request, but as a soft demand.

  My stomach fluttered, and my heartbeat increased. I took long calming breaths as another darkness threatened to take hold.

  "The date is April first of last year; location unknown; subject Aleixandre, leader of the Council.” Laurent’s voice grew fainter as the darkness took hold.

  ***

  Location Unknown

  Aleixandre:

  The last ancient member of the Council

  “Sir.” A pale dark-haired man, standing in the doorway, pulls a blond-haired man’s attention from the neat piles of paper on his large metal desk. The room is large, filled with floor-to-ceiling windows and heavy wool-like drapes. The dark-haired man entered through the double doors and made his way to the desk.

  Behind the blond stands two large figures that tower over him, guarding him. Another man stands still as a statue in the shadows, his gaze roving over the every inch of the room. I move back as his gaze lands on me. His eyes don’t linger on me for longer than a second, but I still feel their heat. The blond nods, and the dark-haired man shuffles the rest of the way into the room, carrying a fistful of papers and wearing an excited expression.

  “What is it, Yuri?” The blond-haired man asks, waving a hand to the two guards that stood vigilant behind him. The men step back, never taking their eyes off of Yuri.

  Yuri approaches the desk and places the crumpled papers in front of the blond, and Blondie eyes them without much interest. Yuri’s excitement is more than noticeable as he nearly drops the papers to the floor.

  “Calm yourself, man. What is it?” Blondie asks.

  Yuri sits in the chair facing the blond, smiling widely. “Aleixandre, I think I have found her.” Aleixandre is the last remaining leader of the Council of Immortals; I know that from Jace.

  Yuri’s eyes are up bright and wide.

  I look around. It’s odd, being here, invading their meeting, but I listen in, anyway. Laurent called the memory for a reason, and I want to find out why.

  “Yuri, I haven’t felt her presence in quite a while. How do you think you have found her?” Aleixandre sounds skeptical.

  “Well, it was actually you that found her, sir, months ago, but we didn’t believe it was her, because of her lineage. We believed that the mother’s parents were Italian, but we were wrong. Her mother was adopted.” Yuri hands Aleixandre some of his papers. “Here are the official documents that we missed.” Aleixandre looks over documents. “She was born in France, but for some reason, the adoption took place in Italy.”

  Yuri’s brow wrinkles, and he frowns. “I am not sure why this is the case, but I found those adoption papers when I widened my search, proving that the girl’s mother is a lineal descendant of Laurent—and that Miss Monroe is a collateral descendant of Laurent, as well. It looks as if someone tried to hide the fact that the girl’s mother was indeed from France and could be linked back to Laurent.”

  Aleixandre still doesn’t look assured. “And you are sure that the mother is not the Arc, and that is why she was moved from France? Since the mother is well past the age that would allow her to possess the abilities, what good would she do me?”

  “Sir, if it were the mother, you would have felt a connection to her, but you said that the connection was so weak that it couldn’t be her, that—”

  “That it probably meant she was just some sort of medium and not a true Arc,” Aleixandre finishes. He stands up and places a hand to his chin. “Right now, we have no clue who the Arc is, and we are waiting for this girl…” He looks to Yuri.

  “Eloise Monroe,” Yuri supplies.

  “Waiting for Eloise Monroe to prove herself the Arc is nonproductive and we need results now. Laurent is sending his men out in droves, creating new Chorý. Though Chorý blood hunts have been successful, we aren’t gaining any ground with them. We are barely keeping the playing field even.” He heads to the window.

  “Sir? I beg to differ.” Yuri places the papers back o
nto the desk and turns in his seat to face his boss. “I think the groups are making great headway.”

  “Then you are a fool to not see that this is a wild goose chase. It was created to keep us busy and to interfere with the search for the Arc. For all we know, Laurent has already found her. His bond with her is much stronger than mine. Mentally I can follow her, but through their shared bloodline, he can sense her in a way that I cannot.” Aleixandre paces and seems deep in thought. The hard lines that plague his face seem out of place, and eyes are hollow.

  “We will have to rush this process—test this maybe Arc,” he decides.

  “Test?” Yuri asked. “But the labs haven’t created any sort of serum or—”

  “Yuri, we are at a time when we are to either act or react. I’d prefer to act and act now. I have been so soft, thinking that creating more immortals is a crime, but…” Aleixandre moves away from the window and toward his desk. He takes my mother’s adoption papers in hand as he gingerly sits on the edge of the desk. “I will no longer play this game with the morals my fellow Immortals determined, years ago. I have yet to see a war won by adhering to some moral code, and this war will be no different.”

  Yuri looks at Aleixandre questioningly and then frowns. “But, sir, that is how you gained the loyalty and trust of your Immortals and even of your humans. How will you convince them that the honesty and morality in which they fought for was wrong?” Yuri looks disappointed in Aleixandre.

  “Are you blind, man?” He stands and paces the floor.

  His otherwise stoic guards glance between themselves and then return their attention to their leader. Yuri looks stunned.

  From their reactions, Aleixandre probably didn't often lose his temper. My vision wavers, but I fight to hold on to it. The truth is here, and I need it.

  “Most of my men and women have fought and died, and for what? The ability to say they died with honor? What honor? What is honor when you are dead, and your enemy still lives creating the same chaos you died to end?” Aleixandre returns his desk and reaches for his phone.