Distract my hunger (17 page)

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Authors: X. Williamson

BOOK: Distract my hunger
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The dark haired woman sat in front of us and a big, Asian guy sat at the back. I could not see much of the driver, and had no clue about its gender. It could be a man or a woman, for the driver seemed to be tall but no other features could be told from the back. His or her hair was cut short and tucked in a woollen cap, so it was impossible to tell much more about the driver.

We were tightly surrounded I suddenly realized. If we wanted to escape it would be very tough if not impossible.

Not one of us said a word while we were smoothly taken towards their place, and not one of them uttered a word either.

We probably drove for about one hour until the van stopped in a halt. The dark haired lady jumped up and opened the door. She was very fast, and unlike the rest of our clan, she moved nothing like a human.

“Follow me, and don’t stay behind.” she said in a firm voice and started to make her way between the tall frozen grass and the snow covered bushes.

We all walked behind her without making a sound. We were silent like shadows, and kept a tight formation. She was at the front leading the way, and the Asian big guy was tightly keeping our back.

The path we took between the bushes was probably taken frequently since footmarks were almost visible in the virgin snow and the few patches of grass grew short. We turned right and then left many times, making our sinuous way like a snake. Nobody spoke while we walked, it was probably too uncomfortable to make small-talk with these guys and probably they did not trust us enough to speak.

We walked perhaps some ten to twenty miles before the thick bushes became less dense and a big country-house became visible in front of us. It was tall and white-washed, green wooden shutters adorned each window and green tiles crowned the roof. A small flagstone patio extended itself to the front of the house and wooden porch seemed to go all the way around.

It was an adorable house that probably dated back to the early twentieth century, yet a sense of abandon lingered in the air. The plants in the patio were unkempt and the paint of the shutters was peeling off. Though gorgeous as the house looked at first sight it was actually quite abandoned. Not much seemed to be living in it except perhaps a ghost or two. It was the perfect facade for hiding.

Instead of leading us all the way up to the front door, the dark-haired woman made us go to the back of the house. The backdoor was heavily shut with wooden planks, but the basement door was unbolted. She pulled at it and it easily opened without the slightest creek. A light seemed to be shining all the way down in the basement. She didn’t go in; instead she held the door and motioned for us to get inside.

James was the first to cautiously go in, closely followed by the twins. They seemed to be pulled by something in there and were not restraining themselves at all.

I descended the creaking wooden floors behind Jonathan and with Lucrecia and Corbin tightly at my back. It was dusty and smelled a bit mouldy, like an old cellar after being closed for a very long time. It seemed completely deserted except for one small thing: it was very warm down there.

We heard the door being tightly closed behind us and neither of our guides came down. They left us alone for the rest of our journey.

Once we where all downstairs, I evaluated our surroundings: I needed to really look at where we’d gotten into. It was a very simple, softly-lit basement with not much furniture. It had dusty wooden floors and bookshelves that covered every piece of wall around us. Books old and new covered every inch of them and sat there like spectators of different eras.

Nobody could be seen anywhere down there. For a moment panic almost got hold of me and I believed it had all been some kind of a trap. We had been misled and like fools let ourselves get trapped in a cellar that looked like an old library! How could we have been so foolish?

I wanted to tell Jonathan to get me out of here; that I wanted to go home and kiss him. I wanted him to make all bad things go away. I was scared and took a tight hold of his hand when somebody opened the door at the top of the stairs that lay in front of us.

“Come on up here” a man gestured to us from the doorway, “what are you waiting for down there? The tea is getting cold.” he said and disappeared back into the light.

Jonathan tightened his grip on my hand and walked forward. This time, it was our turn to be the first ones.

The stairway was made out of very old and somewhat unstable black wood. It creaked and gave in a bit under every step we took. Our weight seemed almost too much for it to bear, and I was very happy when we finally made it all the way up. I was not planning on discovering the effect of wood on me, and especially not in this remote place. What had these vamps been thinking when they left a stairway like that one there? It was simply reckless.

The light past the doorway was almost too strong to withstand. After being in the book-lined basement it seemed almost too bright, but we walked towards it anyway. It was time to fulfil my destiny.

A brightly lit dinning-room stood past the door. It was old-fashioned and grandly decorated. The lighting was completely artificial for thick drapes covered the windows and even most of the walls. A long table was at the centre of the room. It was full of cakes and multi-coloured macaroons, and four steaming “
Willow
” teapots where waiting on it. Matching saucers and cups where ready in each seating spot, everything was ready for a tea party.

The man that had gestured for us to go upstairs was seated at the head of the table. To his right was our dark-haired guide and to his left was our other guide, the huge guy. They all had some tea already served and were merrily sipping from their cups. I felt as Alice entering one of Mad Hatter’s tea parties.

“Well sit down and join us!” the man said, as if it was the most normal thing for us to do. “The tea will only be warm for so long, so . . . what are you waiting for?”

He sipped joyfully at his tea. His hands were slightly wrinkled and his hair was almost fully white. He was the first vampire I ever saw that looked actually old.

Reluctantly our party looked at each other. We would surely get nothing out of these people by just standing there, and we had gone a long way to meet them. Still, it was quite odd that after all the secretiveness they where all merrily sipping tea. Perhaps they where all bonkers after all . . .

Lucrecia was the first to motion for the table. She tugged at my arm and sat beside the very untalkative dark-haired woman. After vacillating for a very small second I gave in and sat beside her and Jonathan sat immediately keeping my other side. The rest of our family joined the tea-party too; it was probably the only way to get to know those weird vamps.

The old man at the head of the table gave us all a broad smile as soon as we were all seated. “I’m glad you finally decided to join us!” he said and gestured for us to get some tea.

We all poured the green liquid on our cups and I wondered what kind of tea it was. It didn’t smell of green tea, it smelled very herbal and strong; it was something I had never smelt before. I just hoped it was not some kind of poisonous herb or something like that . . . I wasn’t very sure I should drink it at all.

“Well Iris, come on, drink up your catnip tea honey. It can smell somewhat funny but it surely is good for you!” the man at the head of the table said and winked an eye at me.

How on Earth did he know my name? This was all too bizarre for me, I just wanted to go back home and curl in bed. Yet, I said nothing of the sort and simply took the cup and sipped some tea.

It was not as bad as it appeared to be; it had an almost minty pang to it and reminded me of something I used to drink as a kid I think. Some memory started to cling somewhere in my mind, but as fast as it appeared it faded away.

“Good girl” Now chug it down with a tasty macaroon, these are simply delightful!” He added and took a bite of his own macaroon.

I decided to obey; after all, the tea had been bearable. Perhaps even nice I must admit. I stretched my free hand and chose a pink macaroon from the plate to my left. It surely looked tasty, so I nibbled at it. It was completely delicious! The old guy had surely been right, these macaroons where amazing.

My interactions with the food and drink on the table seemed to encourage the others. They all slowly started pouring some tea in their cups and eating. Luckily those macaroons didn’t make me grow big or shrink to a mouse’s size, it was surely a relief. All the “Alice in Wonderland” similarities had me a little bit jumpy.

After I finished the macaroon I looked at our hosts for the first time, I mean, I really looked at them.

The dark haired woman was quite common looking; her features would easily blend with others in a crowd. In fact, if you ask me now, I honestly don’t remember her face. The only thing that really stood out was her dark hair and the fierceness in her gaze.

Our other guide on the contrary was quite unique once I really looked at him. His arms were covered with scars; all of them seemed quite old for they where pearl-like in colour though some seemed quite deep. The scars had all kinds of edges, some seemed clean cuts and others seemed to come from scrapes, they seemed to mark his body like a map. His face on the contrary was very clean and looked serene. He seemed like a very nice guy, though I wouldn’t like to have to fight him big as he was! His jet-black hair shone under the artificial light and was spiky all over. A longish lock fell between his eyes and made them stand out. He had very strange eyes, they were grey, something quite unusual for Asians.

The old guy simply reminded me of a somewhat crazy grandpa. I couldn’t imagine that man being a fighter like the other two, yet he must be. A single long scar went all the way up from his hand and up his sleeve, which was the only clue his exterior gave of him ever being in a fight. I imagined the scar coming from a sword, yet I couldn’t be sure.

The funniest thing was that after looking at them for some time, I finally noticed they all had the same pendant round their necks. It was quite curious that I didn’t notice it before since it was quite big and visible. It was a very similar pendant to the one I had on me, the one that Jonathan had given me. A shinny Black Iris sat on each of their chests.

Their Black Irises were all bigger than mine and hung from heavy silver chains. They looked more rustic and less jewel-like, though they were all the same flower. I couldn’t believe it! Could Jonathan’s mother have met them before we did? Surely there was some kind of connection . . .

The old guy saw I was looking at their chains and made me blush. I felt as if I was prying or something, so I quickly turned my gaze back to my cup of tea.

“You look just like someone I knew a long time ago.” He said and smiled. “In fact, your hair looks just like hers, I’ve missed her for a long time now.”

I was stunned by his words. Who did I look like? What did he mean with that? I was so flabbergasted that I almost dropped my tea.

“Oh, forgive me! I didn’t mean to disturb you with that, it’s just . . . forget it . . .” he said and a shadow of sadness crossed his eyes. It disappeared as soon as it had appeared and left me wondering who this woman was, but I knew better than to press the matter.

Corbin distracted our attention very quickly, for with an exuberant gesture, he took the notebook out of his coat and put it on the table with a bang. I hadn’t even noticed he had taken it to be honest, and had forgotten about it even.

“We contacted you for two reasons” James said “one is sitting near you, you’ve met her already. And the other is this notebook. We’ve had possession of it for a very long time, yet we knew nothing of its contents until Iris read some of it. We know now it is much too dangerous to remain alone.”

*     *     *

After James said that everyone remained very still and quiet. The old man seemed to be deep in his thought for a few minutes and then one of the most magical moments I’ve seen happened.

The old guy extended his arm in the direction of the notebook and wiggled his fingers. As if some kind of magnetic force was suddenly acting on the book, it flew right into his hand. He then caressed its cover and the Iris engraved on its front. He looked astonished and almost ecstatic at the same time. Inhaling deep, he closed his eyes for a moment and said a sole word: “Juniper”.

He seemed to be in a trance almost. Apparently he knew something about the book though I doubted he knew its content. He must have weighed his words carefully before he said anything and then began to speak solemnly and unlike anything he’d said before. Things were getting serious.

“I imagine you’ve read enough of this notebook if not all to know that something’s not quite right in the vampire world. Things have not been right for a very long time, yet we have been waiting for someone special to help us, someone exactly like you Iris.” He said and looked at me intensely. He was not joking anymore and I guessed that things would get pretty wild from then on . . . and believe me, they did.

“As you all know, the vampire world has been expecting a special vampire to be born, and that vampire is said to change all our fates.” His voice had acquired and ominous tone and we were all mesmerized by it. I felt like a child listening to stories beside the hearth in a summer-camp.

“For a too long time, there’s been a small group of vampires that have taken all the big decisions for our kind. They have been ruthless and even killers of their own at times. I’m not sure of how much and exactly what Juniper wrote, but I’m sure it was enough to set that point clear to you. She’s an old friend and the first vampire to ever go against them.

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