Immortal Storm (20 page)

It was quiet, too quiet. There were no sounds at all coming from inside the house. There was no drone of a television, no echoing footsteps of people moving inside. She couldn’t hear the electric hum of the refrigerator, or even the pulsing heartbeat of the inhabitants. The house wasn’t only empty, it was deserted.

She pressed her senses farther. She couldn’t make out
any
noise around her. She crept over to the exterior door and peered through the small glass panels. There were no lights on the street at all. The entire neighborhood was black. Where had Addison sent her? Dori returned to her spot on the floor and tried to clear her mind. The surge of adrenaline from the nightmare at the theater had long since drained away and now she was simply tired. She didn’t want to think or to remember. She just wanted to rest.

She listened intently as rain started to fall. It fell gently at first but then increased to a significant shower. The sound on the roof relaxed the knots in her shoulders. There was the random grumble of thunder in the distance but there was no threat of a storm here. Time lost its structure in the dark garage, serenaded by the raindrops. She may have begun to doze, or perhaps she was in that fuzzy moment before sleep finally came, seduced by nature’s lullaby.

One by one images, soft as night whispers, surfaced behind her eyelids and then faded as her mind wandered. She saw herself as a child, running through the house wearing a tutu. A smile stretched across her face. She had loved dancing from the very beginning. She saw herself in college, taking furious notes. She pictured Michael, their hands intertwined, her hair ribbons twisting in the breeze as they stood below a grandiose oak tree. That was the day they confessed their love for each other. Children ran through the field they were standing in. The laughter of unbridled joy and innocence filled the air with an irresistible music that warmed her like the sun. Two little girls clung to her skirt looking up at her with deep, beautiful eyes. The blonde tugged on her hem like she wanted something. The smaller one had a mass of curls that blew askew in the breeze. Dimples riddled her pudgy cheeks as she spoke.

“Please.”

The word itself danced around Dori’s head, tangling in her hair as the two children skipped away, taking with it the bewitce. She haautiful field. The vision melted into a predawn morning with wind-whipped snow blustering around her. She must have fallen asleep, because the cold was so tangible. The black of the morning cast a periwinkle hue on the snow. She was shivering. She looked around and caught sight of headlights swerving in the distance. Who was driving through a blizzard like this? She continued watching the scene play out in front of her as if she was peeking in on someone else’s reality.

The sky was angry and she wanted to call out to the lone vehicle to stop. The moment she opened her mouth to warn the oncoming car, the wind stole her words and tossed them away as viciously as it had thrown the snow.

Dori could feel the pins and needles starting in her hands and feet. She rubbed her hands together, hoping the friction would warm them. The vehicle had straightened out and was easing toward her, determined to beat the storm. When the car was about a hundred feet away, something else caught her attention. Off to the right, something was creeping toward the road.

It was impossible to determine at first if it was human or animal. The blackness of the morning interrupted only by the blowing snow and the flash of headlights made visibility very poor. She opened her mouth to warn whatever it was not to go near the car, but closed it quickly, knowing the words wouldn’t make it that far. When the car was about ten feet away, the figure stood up and she could tell that it was a person.

Dori got the overwhelming feeling in the pit of her stomach that she did not want to watch the rest of this sequence. She didn’t want to see the person hit by a car sliding on the snow. This wasn’t one of her memories, where had this come from? This whole thing had gone awry when the children had run through the field. She tried to move but couldn’t. She tried to tell herself to wake up, but her body wouldn’t obey. She tried to simply look away but she couldn’t escape the tragedy unraveling before her; it was everywhere she looked.

As the car crept along the nearly-invisible, snow-covered road, the figure actually ran
toward
it, gaining momentum with every step. Dori watched, holding her breath, waiting to see the figure pulled under the tires. She squinted her eyes and sucked a breath between her teeth as if she herself were bracing for impact. What she saw next left her colder than the frigid air or the abrasive flakes pelting her raw skin. She was motionless as the figure slammed its hands into the flank of the car and
pushed
it into a skid. The driver, unaware of what was happening, naturally tried to correct the sliding car but the figure ran after it and shoved the car again. With the third shove, the car fishtailed and sped forward toward an immense grove of trees. Impact was inevitable. Dori realized that she was screaming. She was cold to her core. Something was terribly wrong. Who would do such a thing? The car continued its trajectory while a wave of nausea built in her stomach. Nothing could be done now to prevent the crash. The moment of collision was upon them. Just as the front bumper plowed into the tree, she was enveloped by a searing white light.

The vision instantly disappeared and Dori looked around, blinking. It took a second for her head to clear from the fog of sleep and her eyes longer to adjust to the blinding light. She was disoriented and confused, trying to make sense of everything she had just witnessed. As her vision began to come into focus, she realized that there was someone else in the garase the neage with her. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, trying to clear an invisible film from them, willing them to focus. She could make out a man’s boots squeaking as he approached her. The man moved slowly and deliberately. Her mind was preoccupied, trying to force her to piece together something important. She realized she was still screaming, now overtaken with fear of who had found her and how they had found her.

The boots stopped a few feet from her and she rubbed her eyes once more. She opened them just in time to see the person’s weight rock back into the heels of the black boots and then lunge forward to attack her.

Chapter Twenty Two

June 18, 1598

The time drawes shorte. I have run out of options, save two. Tensions run high as we both realize we are searching for reciprocal demise. I have become more than an annoyance and plaything to Barwicke. He regardes me as his enemy, signifying that I have come too, too close to discovering his weakness. Alas, he remaines the more worthy opponent. I find myself in flight more often than not. We both tire of this game and searche for its ende.

It were clear from the time of my change that Sacred ground bore no harme upon our kind. I have ere ruled out Holy Water and stakes to the heart. After much pondering I realized since our heart no longer beats, it cannot be a source of death. However, our minds animate us, perhaps they are the weakness in our defenses.

I stalked Barwicke
’
s group, selecting my victim with care. T
’
was he who lagged behind, he who was mere seconds too slowe. I tracked until nearly dawn when at laste I saw my chance. With nary a breath I pounced, driving the stake through his temple. The monster fell and victory was nearly mine, yet his eyes fixed on me and he took up a fight which I was quite, quite lucky to escape. I fear Barwicke called off his minion so as to prolongue his game of torture personally.

Despite my enemie
’
s resolve for my demise, I fear not. I do not take the life from innocentes, yet I feel power welling up within. I believe it is fueled by the hate of Evil that leads me to survive repeated attacks from my adversarie. Hate wields much power.

I am not saddened that my happiness has lefte. What was stolen from me and what I have become are of too, too little importance. I will not curse this worlde much longer than Barwicke. I merely have to finde the way.

Chapter Twenty Three

Dori felt arms of steel wind around her the same moment she felt the impact. Two impossibly strong bands squeezed tight while the man’s shoulder thrust into her with a force that would have shattered a human’s sternum. She was choking, gasping for air. Instinctg she ly ively, she flailed her arms and legs, attempting to thwart the assailant. The more she thrashed around, the more the stranger tightened his grip.

“
Not a stranger, Ballerina Girl.”

It was like cold water thrown in her face. Who was it then? She craned her neck backward, trying to focus on the body crushing hers.

“Dori!” A whispered sob gave her the answer she was looking for. She couldn’t see his face, but she would recognize that voice anywhere. Her struggles ceased and she pressed herself into him with as much fervor she could muster.

“Michael!”

“What is going on? You don’t come home. You call and tell me to meet you at this address. The director has been murdered. Murdered? I nearly lost my mind worrying about you. Dori, what happened?” As he spoke, his grip relaxed minutely, but he burrowed himself impossibly closer to her. His voice broke. The violence melted away and tenderness took its place. They sat wrapped together for a moment before he shifted his grip on her. He didn’t let go, he merely switched his grasp to her hand as he settled next to her on the concrete floor.

“Will you please tell me what is going on?”

“Oh, Michael! Everything is a mess. The director was an absolute nightmare tonight. He called me out and tried to embarrass me in front of everyone. When I didn’t get flustered, he punished the whole company.” She continued recounting the terrible turn of events without omitting a single detail. “I didn’t kill him.”

“Of course you didn’t. I know that.” Then in an effort to lighten the mood, he added, “There wouldn’t have been any blood left for that idiot to scream about.” She didn’t laugh.

“Michael this is serious. I can’t go back there. We will have to leave, but if I don’t show up at the theater it’s going to make me look even more guilty. I don’t know what to do.”

“We could escape it all, set up in another city. Any major city will have a ballet company. It wouldn’t be hard. We could go right now, just leave all of this mess behind.” The overhead light dimmed and shut off.

“I can’t leave Addison. We don’t know how long it is before the monks swarm the forest. I can’t let Percy get to her.”

“Dori, listen. I know that you are close to her, but she’s a human, you are not. No matter how hard we try to be part of the mortal world, it is not ours. We do not have to let their consequences rule our choices.”

“She is my friend and I care about her. If something happens to her that I could have prevented then I will have to live with that forever. The part of me that belongs to her will echo in silence for as long I live. That is a sentence I am not willing to suffer.”

Michael didn’t respond. He looked at Dori, searching for a chink in her armor, any weakness he might be able to play on to convince her to flee. With a heavy sigh, the corners of his lips turned down and he scowled, revealing a deep crease between his eyebrows. The silence grew. He looked at the floor and played with one ofed I d his thumbnails. After an uncomfortably long moment, he turned his head abruptly toward her and peered deep into her eyes.

As they locked gazes, she was reminded of how the director had tried to win a staring contest with her, too. This time her competition was a bit more fierce. She pressed into his intent look with emotions running wild inside of her. She found herself pulled into her own thoughts, overwhelmed and surrounded by greenery. There was a flickering in the distance that caught her attention. As she ran toward it, she realized it was a series of images playing on a screen. These images were the most recent events of her life. They were all running backward, being rewound in slow motion. As each image faded into its predecessor, it was washed from her memory.

She heard Michael mumbling but it was too distant to make out what he was saying. It didn’t matter, as she watched her memories pass before her she felt an odd sensation of warmth and happiness. In fact, she couldn’t possibly be any happier in her life than she was in that instant. Then, suddenly, like the flash of a camera, a stark white light ripped through the sky and her memories flooded back instantly. She threw her hands over her eyes, but a moment too late to avoid being blinded; she was snapped back to the garage where the massive door was grinding shut. For the second time that night, Dori’s eyes were slow to adjust.

The overhead light, again triggered by the garage door, hurt her eyes after sitting in the dark for so long.

“What are y’all doing sitting on the floor?”

“Addison!” Michael and Dori exclaimed at the same time, although their voices carried different emotions.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” Dori, relieved to finally see her friend, crossed the floor a little faster than the average human would have. Addison didn’t seem to notice. She had her friend wrapped in a hug almost as tightly as Michael had hugged her.

“Why didn’t you guys go inside? It’s much nicer than sitting out in the cold garage?”