Read Grey Eyes (Book One, The Forever Trilogy) Page 5

  Chapter 4

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  I leaned up from the bed.  I felt I knew what he was implying, but the thought was too ridiculous…

  Duncan began to nod his head.  "I wasn’t there with you—"

  “But you were there,” I interrupted.  “You saved me…didn’t you?  You pulled him from underneath my bed?  Maybe one of your men?”

  His head cocked in surprise. “Anastasia by the time we arrived, the house was empty.  There was no sign of anyone.  Until Nathan’s phone call, we had assumed the very worst.”

  “But then, who?  And where did my mother go?  This isn’t making any sense.”

  “You’re certain that there was someone else present?” he asked.

  I nodded.  “Someone saved me.”

  “Then perhaps there is another explanation,” he conceded.  “Is there any chance that you could be mistaken about how bad her injuries were?”

  “I don't know, I mean, I saw her lose consciousness.  She was hurt so badly, I guess I just assumed..." 

  "It is highly possible that whoever saved you came back for her.  If that is indeed the case then she could very well be alive."  He sighed.  “But there is also another very real possibility, and I need for you to hear and accept this now, before your mind closes itself off to it."   

  I stared at him, unsure if I wanted to hear what he had to say. 

  He continued anyway.  “Your mother could now be one of them.”

  One of them.  The disgust in his voice seemed to echo around the room.  It was the same tone that Nathan had taken when talking about the vampires who attacked his mother.  I tried to let the words sink in—to imagine my mother as one of those things.  I couldn’t.  My reality had been shaken and twisted enough—it had reached its limit.

  “No.  She’s alive.  I have to believe that.  I…” I didn’t know what else to say.  As I sat there in silence, I could feel my mind scrambling for some way to make this explanation work.  I thought of how resourceful she was.  How she always had a backup plan for everything.  Surely, she would have enlisted some kind of help, someone who would come in a time of crisis.  It certainly sounded like something my mother would do, and that was enough for me to cling to this hope, wholly and completely.

  “Ana—“

  “No.” I interrupted.  “She’s alive.” 

  Duncan opened his mouth to say something more but didn’t.  Instead, he placed his hand on my cheek and wiped away the wetness under my eyes.  “Very well, then. “

  With that, he stood up from the edge of the bed and crossed the room, stopping in the doorway.  “Would you like to speak to your grandmother?”

  I didn’t hesitate.  “No.”  It was probably irrational this sudden dislike I felt for a woman I'd never met, but I didn't care.  My mother hadn't thought very much of her and that was reason enough for me.

  “Very well, but tomorrow we leave for her home in Brighton.  You’ll be safe there.  I believe it’s what your mother would have wanted.”

  “It is,” I sighed, remembering what she’d left for me in that yellow envelope.  “I’ve got plane tickets, there’s one for each of us.”

  “Three?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  “Then she did know we were here.  It isn’t a coincidence that your escape led you to this cabin, is it?”

  “I guess not.”  My reply sounded indifferent, but in reality, his pointing out this fact had sent a surge of hope through me.  “She never intended to come,” I told myself.  If she had, she would’ve had four tickets, not three.  She had always intended on us splitting up, giving me the safer, more immediate route to safety.  Whatever she had planned for her own escape was probably much more risky—but it was a plan.  I could feel my sprits lift.

  Duncan thought on this for a moment as well.  Finally, he nodded, flipping the light switch as he left, casting the room into total darkness. 

  Loneliness descended upon me like a sudden rain, leaving me scared and defenseless against the night’s horrors.  There were no more distractions, no comforting voices to calm me.  Just as he left, the sounds of my mother’s screams quickly filled the room.  I buried my head into my pillow and closed my eyes, but found no refuge there.  Images of mother’s body, barely alive, flashed in front of me.  My breathing became heavy, and my heartbeat thundered in my ears.  I lay trembling in the black abyss of my own torments, begging for sleep to rescue me.