Unafraid (23 page)

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Authors: Michael Griffo

BOOK: Unafraid
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An image of Penry's lifeless body jammed itself into Nakano's mind, and he shook involuntarily.
Stop thinking about the past, need to deal with the present.
“Your father is looking for you,” Nakano said.
Amazing,
Brania thought. No matter how Brania tried to manipulate Nakano, he never noticed. “Thank you again,” she replied. “How did you come about this information?”
“Jean-Paul asked me where you were, I guess because he knows that we're friends,” Nakano explained.
Thankful that the darkness concealed the true nature behind her smile, Brania replied, “Indeed we are.”
The color of his cheeks grew a deeper shade of red, but it wouldn't have mattered if they had been standing in the light of day. Brania wouldn't make fun of him; she was his friend. “He said David wants to see you,” Kano continued. “He didn't say why, but you should be careful, because, well, you know David better than anyone.”
That was true. Brania knew her father better than anyone. So she knew he had deliberately sent Jean-Paul as a messenger, knowing that Nakano wouldn't be able to resist the urge to run right to her. She also knew that he expected her to remain stubborn and stay in hiding, making him feel as if he had the upper hand. It was time to prove her father wrong. “Thank you for everything, Kano, but you should go home now,” Brania said. “I need to teach my father a lesson.”
 
A few minutes later when Brania stumbled upon the three men huddled over the massive buck, she thought it was the perfect illustration of why you should never turn your back on your enemy. David, Jean-Paul, and Joubert were all crouched on the ground, their fangs buried deep within the animal's flesh, each filling their bodies with as much animal blood as possible, unaware that they were being watched. “Looks like a feast fit for a king's fools,” Brania declared.
Only David didn't jump at the interruption. He continued to drink the buck's tasty fluid until his hunger was quenched. He then took out a monogrammed handkerchief, the color of merlot, from the breast pocket of his jacket and wiped his mouth clean before turning around to acknowledge his daughter's presence. “Jean-Paul, you didn't tell me that Brania would be joining us.”
Brania loved watching her brother fidget. Using her enhanced vision she could actually see the confusion spread over his face as he pondered how to handle his dilemma. Hmm, she thought she would save his pretty, little French head from having to make a choice. “Jean-Paul had no idea I would be crashing your party,” she said. “He failed at the task you gave him.”
Sitting on top of the now-dead buck, David crossed his legs at the ankles as if he were sitting on an antique settee. “Really?” he replied. “I told him that I wished to talk to you and here we are, talking.”
Not moving from her vantage point of a small hill a few feet above the men, Brania cocked her head to the side. “Spin it any way you like, Father. Your son isn't the reason I'm here; Nakano is,” she corrected. “He's the one you should thank.”
David did his best to conceal his surprise, but Brania could tell by the way Jean-Paul flinched when she mentioned Nakano's name that David had had no idea his beloved son had hired a third party to do his bidding. Teaching was turning out to be kind of fun. Until David decided to alter the lesson plan. “I forgive you for killing Margaret,” he announced. “I understand why you felt Nurse Radcliff needed to be terminated, and I have chosen to show you mercy. So you see, there's no need for you to remain in hiding from me any longer.”
She felt her feet dig into the earth to stop her legs from shaking. She wasn't exactly sure why, since she felt no remorse for causing the nurse's death, but perhaps it was because she suddenly realized that if it came down to a physical confrontation, it would be three against one. Interesting, she realized, no matter how much you know there's always room for more knowledge. “I never felt I had to hide from you,” Brania said. “You are after all my father. It's just that for the time being I prefer to be alone.”
When David rose, the buck shifted slightly, and some excess blood slid down the animal's tongue and trickled out of its open mouth. Brania felt such derision for this group of men that she half-expected them to scamper on all fours and fight each other to see who could lick up the last remaining drop. But no one moved, not until David motioned that they should join him. “And so we shall concede to your wishes,” he stated. “You may retreat to your solitary confinement, but I have one request.”
Her feet dug farther into earth. “And what is that?”
“That you be at my side during the upcoming Tri-Centennial Celebration,” David replied. “It is more than a matter of protocol. It is an auspicious occasion, and I would like to be surrounded by my children. Please don't disappoint me.” David didn't wait for Brania to reply. He simply retreated into the woods, followed by Jean-Paul and Joubert.
Damn him! Brania hated allowing him to have the last word, but he didn't stick around long enough for her to say anything. And, now that she was alone with nothing in sight but the rotting corpse of a once magnificent animal, she had plenty to say. Her father should come back now, and she would show him how easily she could disappoint him. But she wasn't going to be given the opportunity to form any sort of rebuttal; she had other matters to attend to. Like finding out why Imogene was screaming so loudly she was threatening to disturb all of England.
Racing into the cave, Brania thought she understood the reason for Imogene's shrieks—Nakano was pacing in one corner of their hideout. “Don't look at me!” he cried. “Crazy ghost girl was screaming her bloody head off when I got here.”
Not only was Imogene screaming, she was clawing at the sides of the lidless coffin as if she was unable to sit up, as if some weight were keeping her body flat against the bottom of the casket. The girl was going through yet another transformation, and Brania had a good idea who was responsible. However, she wanted to keep that person's identity a secret. “Kano, go home!” she ordered.
Flustered, Nakano didn't understand why he was being yelled at. “But I didn't do anything!”
Drawing upon every maternal instinct she had acquired while Imogene had been in her care, Brania spoke quietly but firmly to Nakano. “I understand that, but the truth is your being here upsets Imogene so I need you to leave, just so I can calm her down,” Brania rationalized. “Could you please do that for me?”
Reluctantly, Kano agreed. “Yeah, sure.”
He was hardly out of the cave before Brania jumped into the coffin and grabbed Imogene by the shoulders to try and force her out of her trance. “Imogene! What's happening? Tell me!”
Arms flailing, Imogene was clutching at the air, Brania's face, anything that would pull her out of whatever scene she was witnessing. “Dro ... drow ...” she gasped.
She was drowning. Brania's instincts were correct. Imogene was still linked to Edwige, and now Edwige was swimming deeper into the ocean on her way to The Well. “Look at me, Imogene,” Brania ordered. “You're safe, you're with Mother.” Either Imogene didn't hear what Brania was saying or she didn't believe her. Her arms kept moving as if she was treading water, trying to reach a surface that didn't exist. “Imogene, I need you to focus,” Brania compelled. “Use Edwige's eyes and find The Well.”
Suddenly her body stopped shaking, her arms fell to her sides, and her breathing returned to normal. “I see it,” Imogene announced.
Brania stared at her in amazement, knowing that Imogene was gazing upon the elusive Well, the life force of all water vamps, the treasure that her father wanted to find and destroy. Holding Imogene close to her, wiping the sweat from her brow, Brania beamed. She wasn't sure if she was prouder of Imogene for her unprecedented connection to Edwige or of herself for the skillful way her own mind worked. It wasn't every day that she outdid herself, conceiving another plan that would teach her father that he had underestimated her. Soon he would discover that Brania was more powerful, cunning, and vengeful than he could ever hope to be.
chapter 18
Brania didn't expect to find anyone else in the cave when she returned from her feeding, which is why she was surprised to find that Imogene had company. She was even more surprised when she recognized the girl who was sitting with Imogene in her coffin. She only saw the girl from behind, but her hair was just as red and wavy as the last time she had seen it.
“You're the girl from The Forest!” Brania exclaimed.
“Brania, please, my guest's name is Ruby,” Imogene corrected.
Turning to face Brania, her eyes no longer completely white, but now their normal blue, Ruby smiled. “Hello, Brania.”
Recoiling just a bit at the sight of the girl, a torrent of memory assaulted Brania, and in an instant she remembered everything that this Ruby person had done to her. She didn't know why, she didn't know how, but she knew two things: She was connected to this girl, and this stranger was dangerous. “What are you doing here?”
Ignoring her question, Ruby instead extended her hand to Brania and asked, “Would you mind helping me out?”
Warily, Brania walked toward the casket and tried to hold onto the anger she was feeling and not give in to the fear that lay just underneath it. Fear was useless; it was for mortals, not for someone like her. Unfortunately, fear clung to her like a shy child clings to its mother. It simply would not let go. “Imogene,” Brania said. “She's your guest, would you please help her out of your coffin?”
Thrilled to have a task, Imogene jumped at the opportunity. “Ruby, give me your hand,” Imogene instructed. How wonderful it was to be able to feel someone else's hand. Imogene assumed that the reason she could touch Ruby and Ruby could hear her was because they were in the cave. This “straddling life and death” thing sure had its own rules. But as long as Imogene could touch someone other than Brania, she didn't care. She was so energized that by the time she and Ruby were both standing on the cave's floor, Imogene had informed Brania that Ruby had recently enrolled at St. Anne's school, she was blind, and she was Penry's twin sister. Finally, it made sense to Brania. “So that's why you've come here,” Brania said, feeling the fear unwrap its needy little fingers from her body. “To avenge the death of your brother.”
“Brania!” Imogene exclaimed. “That is no way to speak to my new friend!”
When Imogene saw Brania's head whip in her direction, her face filled with scorn and contempt, it reminded her of the way Brania had looked when she attacked her in her dorm room. Before Brania took her first step toward her, Imogene disappeared. “Imogene!” Brania howled. “I do not have time for these games!”
The game didn't last very long, because Imogene didn't want to stray too far from Ruby. It was nice to look into the girl's eyes that were the same color as Penry's, so after a few seconds she materialized in her coffin. “Now stay there and do not move!” Brania ordered. Turning around to face Ruby, she spun so hard that her heel dug into the rock floor, a tiny cloud of dust floating around her shoe. “And you!” she barked. “Why have you come to me? I had nothing to do with your brother's death.”
As if she could see exactly where the boulder was, Ruby walked toward it and sat down. She looked at Brania, and her bemused expression never changed; all that changed were her eyes. Gone were the blue irises, back were sockets of white.
“Answer me, Ruby!” Brania screamed.
“My name isn't Ruby, and I have no connection to this Penry,” the girl replied. “However, I have returned because of my brother.”
Clutching her knees closer to her chest, Imogene didn't believe a word the girl was saying. She looked just like Penry; she had to be his sister. “You're lying! You are Ruby!”
If Ruby heard Imogene's protest, she didn't give any indication. She stared directly at Brania. “Behind the picture across from the desk in your father's office you will find a book hidden in the wall,” she said. “Give it to David and tell him that I would like him to read me a story.”
Brania realized this girl had no connection to the dead kid whatsoever. Whoever she was, whatever she was, she was only using Ruby's body as a host, a conduit so she could walk the earth. And make contact with Brania's father. “Who shall I tell him is making this request?” Brania asked.
Just before she left the cave, Ruby answered. “Tell him that Rhoswen has come home.”
 
Wasting no time Brania raced out of the cave and to David's office. She didn't see a trace of Ruby or Rhoswen or whatever her name was, not that she expected to. She also didn't care that she was leaving Imogene alone. Brania knew she shouldn't abandon her so abruptly since she was vital to the success of her overall plan, but she would make it up to her. Right now she had work to do.
Slipping inside the anteroom, Brania's shadow comingled with the black and gray projections created by the trees outside to form a surreal landscape in the mirror. Roused from their sleep, the archangels were curious to find an intruder in their midst, Zachariel most of all, but even he was ultimately helpless to stop Brania from entering David's office. By the way she moved, without hesitation and with purpose, it was clear that nothing could stand in her way.
Brania removed the painting and saw that its placement was more than ornamental; it concealed a small safe. With a thief's dexterity, she turned the knob and using her preternatural hearing listened for the telltale clicks. The first number was eleven, then twenty-five and sixty-four.
Such arrogance,
Brania thought. Of course David would use his birthday as the safe's combination. Although most people would not deduce that sixty-four referred to 1564, the year of his birth.
Peering into the safe, Brania saw several letters and a stack of faded parchment wrapped in strips of worn leather and marked with David's stamp, one unfurled wing made of red wax. Pushing them to the side she saw sepia-toned photographs, money of every conceivable international currency dating back to the sixteenth century, and finally, tucked behind an ornate silver and gold mask adorned with black ostrich feathers—an odd keepsake indeed—was a book. Even if Brania had seen it in an overstuffed library she would have known it was the book Ruby, well, Rhoswen, had instructed her to find. On the faded cover was a raised marble inlay, a remarkably detailed depiction of a white rose.
“Zachariel told me I had a visitor, but I had no idea it would be you,” David said. As if of its own accord the door closed behind him as David took one step, two steps, three steps closer to his daughter, his expression slowly shifting from amused to incensed. “Or that I would find you rummaging through my personal effects.” The only reason he stopped moving was because Brania held up the book in front of her, the marble rose a stronger deterrent than a sharp-edged wooden stake.
“What are you doing with that?” David asked, his voice a low, gruff whisper.
If it hadn't been for the flames from the fireplace that had ignited the moment David walked into the room, the silence would have been overwhelming. “I think the more appropriate question, Father, is who is Rhoswen?”
The name struck David like lightning, unexpected, quick, violent. He had known this day would come, he had sensed it for months now, but he had never entertained the thought that it truly would arrive. The day when he would have to acknowledge his past and remember the pain, the agonizing decision he had once made that brought him to his present state of glory. No! Not everything had to be revealed. Brania might be his daughter, she may be inquisitive and insightful, but she was still a woman and therefore insignificant. No, he only had to tell her enough of the story to keep her satisfied. “Rhoswen is my sister.”
“What?!” Brania cried. “How come I've never heard of her?”
Give her another morsel, another benign piece of information. “She died when you were an infant,” David replied as he sat in the mahogany armchair near the window, to the casual eye appearing calm and aloof. “It was heartbreaking and, like so many things that break the heart, her demise went unmentioned. Until now.”
Brania stared at her father, certain that he was telling her the truth, but also certain that there was much more to the story. “How did she die?”
Crossing his legs, David traced the seam of his trousers with his finger to keep the rest of his hand from shaking. “She was murdered.”
“Murdered!”
David was surprised to find that his hand lay still on his knee. Perhaps the memory no longer had power over him; perhaps enough time had passed; perhaps his mind had finally convinced his soul that he was innocent. “It was a barbaric time,” he said. “Murder was a common, albeit, unfortunate occurrence. And in Rhoswen's case, random.”
So her aunt, her father's sister, was a murder victim whose spirit just happened to be taking up residence in the body of the twin sister of a murdered student. Logically, Brania knew that was a strong enough link to connect the two, but emotionally she knew otherwise. “What's the significance of this book?”
Blinking his eyes to forbid the tears to appear, David knew that if he looked away from the marble rose Brania would correctly presume that it was more than decorative. It was a symbol, a symbol of his past, a past he wanted to stay dead and buried. But a past that clearly had a mind of its own. “The book belonged to my sister,” he said. “The name Rhoswen means the white rose.”
All the pieces finally fell into place. Brania understood why she had awakened inside a circle of white roses. There was a reason why Rhoswen's eyes looked like two round, white canvases. Her mind racing almost out of control she realized the scope of Rhoswen's influence was immense. The flowers that grew outside of St. Joshua's, that had grown there for centuries, were not an anomaly; they were not formed by nature but were the product of this supernatural spirit, who had endowed them with incredible, life-altering powers. Brania didn't know why, but she knew David held the key to unlocking all of Rhoswen's secrets. She had never been more grateful that she had her own secret with which she could barter.
“Rhoswen said that she's returned and she would like you to read this book to her.”
When Brania placed the book in David's hands, it was as if she had branded him with a white-hot poker. He felt as if his flesh, his heart, even the remaining pieces of his soul were singed, and it took all his formidable strength not to let the book drop to the floor. “You've spoken to my sister?” David asked, sounding younger than Brania had ever heard him sound before.
“More than that,” she gloated. “I've seen her.”
A rumble began in David's stomach, so loud, so forceful, he thought for sure the sound would make his body shake uncontrollably, that Brania would think he was in the throes of an epileptic seizure. His vision started to blur, his head grew dizzy, and he had no choice but to close his eyes or else risk falling off the chair.
Use these frailties,
David commanded himself,
turn them into strengths.
Opening his eyes, he imagined he was looking at a world of wonder and possibility instead of the dubious face of his daughter. “This is a sign, Brania, a sign!” he gasped. “My family is coming together just in time for Archangel's Tri-Centennial Celebration!”
Never in all her years had she witnessed her father look so emotional, sound so affected by circumstances that he did not create. It was unsettling, and even though a part of her wished her father possessed such sentimentality, she knew the man's psychological makeup too well. This was all an act. An act that, for the time being, Brania felt she should play along with. “It will be a wonderful reunion,” she said. Softly she touched his hand and immediately thought the gesture might be too much, but then figured if her father could play the scene to the hilt, why couldn't she?
“I have another surprise for you,” Brania added. “I know how we can find The Well.”
This time David did almost drop the book he was holding, but before it fell from his lap he grabbed it, his fingers gripping it so tightly they threatened to tear it in two. “How? Tell me!”
Oh what a beautiful sight to watch her father beg, to see him squirm like an anxious child. “All you need to know, Father,” Brania replied, “is that your ex-lover, Edwige, plays an important role in my plan.”
“Edwige!” Ignoring her father, Brania turned to leave, the clicking of her heels echoing through the room. Silence returned only when she reached the door. “When I speak with Rhoswen again, I'll tell her that you're waiting for her.”
David didn't know how much time had passed after Brania left until the strength returned to his legs, but once it did, he rose, shakily, unsteady, and without direction. Brania, Edwige, Rhoswen! He was in a daze, his mind lost in the past, his body wandering in the present. What brought the two together was the sound of Zachariel's voice. “Control the women in your life or they shall destroy you!”
The harsh, resolute voice was all David needed to hear to propel him into action, allow him to take command of his body once again. The fury traveled like a missile from his toes to his brain, and the book was suddenly hurtling, hurtling, hurtling into the fireplace. Upon impact, the flames erupted like a raging inferno. It crackled like laughter heard within the bowels of an insane asylum; it changed color from orange to yellow to red; it shifted shape from fire to a woman's face.

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