Chapter 3
Revelations
Screeching tires woke me from my wide-eyed stare. Nathan leapt to his feet and darted into the next room.
“He’s back!” he called.
I pushed myself up from the icebox, attempting to gather my thoughts—this despite the fact that my mind had just been blown off its hinges. Nathan ran back into the small kitchen, slowing only long enough to unlock the door before disappearing outside. A sudden anxiety filled me as I waited there alone, becoming more intense as the sound of voices neared the open doorway. I took a deep breath for clarity, and then went about surveying the room for potential weapons and possible escape routes—another part of my training.
Before I could act on the plan I’d quickly pieced together, a tall wide man came through the doorway, with Nathan under his arm. His hairline had retreated considerably, and a thick brown beard concealed most of his features, but his gentle eyes shared Nathan’s warmth. Still, when he made a move toward me, I instinctively moved away. A chill caused my entire body to shiver.
He and Nathan exchanged glances. Nathan leaned over; whispering something to the tall man, then stepped forward. “It’s okay, this is my grandpa. He’s your guardian, he won’t hurt you.”
I nodded. “I’m sorry…I…”
“There is no need to explain, Anastasia. I know that tonight has been difficult. My grandson used a calming spell on you, which lost its effectiveness once he left the cabin. You may be experiencing a sudden rush of emotion,” he said slowly, in a soft and even tone. He put both of his hands into the air—the same way people did when they were surrendering to the police—and took slow steps backwards until his back was against the opposite wall. He continued. “My name is Duncan. Duncan Mathalbane. As my grandson said, I am your guardian. I’ve watched over your family since your mother was a child. You are safe now. The area is clear.”
The very same thoughts that arose in my mind when Nathan first alerted me to the fact that I had guardians came storming back to the forefront now. Why was my mother left to face that monster alone? Where had they been all these years and why had we been forced to live like we did? I tried to bite my tongue, but the anger was so much stronger this time, overwhelming…
“What took you so long?” I screamed, as new tears found their way down my cheeks.
Duncan shook his head and took in a slow breath. “I know you have questions, but please understand, there is a lot that you don’t know. Things that, if not explained in just the right way could—“
“Nathan already told me that I am a witch,” I interrupted. “And I know that a vampire attacked my mother. What else do I need to know?”
Nathan’s eyes grew large on his face and his grandfather shot him a nasty stare. Part of me hated betraying Nathan’s trust but a much larger part of me was sick and tired of not getting answers when I asked for them. I wanted everything explained, and I wanted it explained right now.
Duncan ordered Nathan to his room, and he slumped off with his head hung low.
“Tell me everything you know about me or I’ll leave right now," I demanded. "No more secrets.”
It was an empty threat, Duncan probably realized it too, but I figured it was enough that it might be worth it to have my cooperation. He sighed and moved closer. This time, though my knees threatened to buckle, I held my ground.
“Your family name is Rasputin,” he began. “The most fam— infamous of your ilk being Gregori Rasputin, architect of the fall of the Tsars. As it stands, you are his great-great-granddaughter. The Rasputins are descended from the eldest daughter of the first known witch Merline. The name Merlin might sound more familiar as later historians thought it much more suitable that such a powerful historical figure be made into a man. It isn’t known how Merline came to possess her magical abilities, but what is known is that she had seven children, and every witch or warlock living today is a descendant of one of these seven children. However, only the seven descendants deemed to be the legitimate heirs of Merline’s seven children are gifted with her mythical grey eyes. Sadly, only the Pendragon, Merovingian, Rasputin, and Abiade royal lines have survived the years.”
By the time Duncan had finished speaking, he was right in front of me. So entranced was I by his history of witches and warlocks that I hadn’t even noticed it until then. I jumped backwards.
Duncan smiled. “I mean you no harm, Anastasia.”
“No s-spells.”
His smile became bigger. “Were it legal for me to subdue you with magic, I would have done so already,—probably a sleeping spell. You are of royal blood Anastasia, if it became known that my grandson placed even a simple calming spell on you, he would be punished severely.”
I could only stare at Duncan. It all sounded so surreal, this talk of heirs and magic yet there was no hint of anything but sincerity behind his words. It occurred to me then that I was no longer trembling, but this time my relaxing felt much more natural. The careful way in which he spoke, the way he moved around me, it gave me the sense that I was someone he held in high regard—someone he cared for a great deal. Still, there was so much I wanted to know.
“And the vampires…why are they looking for me?”
“Because of the war. For over 800 years a war was waged between witches and vampires and has resulted in devastating casualties both witch, vampire and human alike. It is believed that Merline’s first child died at childbirth, and she was so consumed with grief that she had delved into the very dark and twisted magic to raise him from the dead. Upon realizing the boy’s murderous need for blood to survive, she resolved to kill the child, but her maternal instincts prevailed and she instead banished him to a far away land. The boy returned a man, and repaid his mother’s mercy with murder. He claimed to be the rightful heir to her many lands and wealth but was denied by her other children—they chased him away and pursued him until the ends of their lives. Thus began the family feud that evolved into a most terrible war. Today a provisional peace treaty exists but there are still groups from both sides who choose to live as though the war continues. It is those vampires who hunt you.”
“Where were you when they came?” I repeated. It was the question I wanted answered the most and although I'd spent the better part of his explanations trying to avoid my asking it again, it came out anyway.
Again, he breathed deeply and then plopped his large frame onto the icebox. “I was forced to keep my distance, Anastasia.”
“What? By who?”
“By your grandmother. It is my duty to protect you and your mother but I was not to let your mother become aware of my presence—that we knew her location. And because of that I could never get too close.”
“But I don’t understand. She made such a big deal of keeping me safe, why wouldn’t she want help?”
“You were never meant to be an heir, Anastasia. Your mother was a second child; your aunt, Aleksandra, was the first. Her first-born child would have been next in line to inherit Merline’s grey eyes had she not passed away so young. As your mother’s guardian, I knew that she had always been grateful that she had not inherited the grey eyes. It meant that she was free to live her life however, she saw fit. Free of the burdens and responsibilities. When your aunt died and you—the only first-born Rasputin left— inherited the eyes, she took you and ran. I can only guess at her reasons, but I suspect that it was because she wanted you to be able to make your own choices—to choose your own life. Aleksandra did struggle with the limitations…”
“What happened to her?”
His face turned from mine. “I can say no more. “ He stood up and began to walk into the next room shaking his head. I followed him.
“I need to know what happened to her.”
He put up his hand. “I shouldn’t have said as much as I did.”
“I…I
order you to tell me,” I said desperately, unsure if it would actually work.
“You wouldn’t,” he said, his nose and forehead now bright red.
I hesitated, but answered. “I do.”
He lowered his head, and then turned his pain struck eyes to mine. “She basically took her own life, Anastasia.”
The news hit me like a kick in the gut. “But why?”
“For misguided love. Now I’ll say no more, royal blood or not.”
Love? What boy could be worth your life? I didn’t understand. I sat in silence while Duncan turned and wiped his face. I felt terrible. It was obvious that he cared a great deal for my aunt, and I’d made him relive what was clearly a painful time. His pain brought my own back into focus.
“And now my mother is dead too…" With those words, whatever calm I'd managed was shattered, the unbearable pain returning at last, and I collapsed on the floor. Duncan picked me up and carried me into a bedroom. He sat with me while I sobbed, loud and deeply, until my eyes and throat both ached from it.
A time passed and then, fighting back tears of his own, he spoke. "My sweet Elena, Nathan's mother, suffered a similar kind of attack at the hands of those monsters. For years, I believed her gone from this world and it was not until very recently that I learned the truth. I cannot tell you the pain it caused me. Your grandmother will likely strip me of my title for telling you this, but I cannot in good conscience do otherwise..."
"I-I don't understand...."
"Anastasia, we searched the house. There was no sign of your mother..."