Wicked (The Drake Chronicles Book 1) (12 page)

Adam had eventually fallen asleep, snoring like a beast in the chair. Ethan didn’t wake him; he knew he needed the rest. For a long while, Ethan admired the living room and how retro it looked.

The house must have been built back in the late 1700s and updated over time. Its log beamed ceiling gave off a forest cabin feel and the furniture must have been kept preserved since it looked ripped right out of the 70s, with pea green hints in each piece and salmon tinted throw pillows. There wasn’t a television or electronic device in sight.

Sage hadn’t spoken since Adam detoured into slumber, and now she sat, fidgeting with a vintage looking crossword puzzle book, softly cursing when she messed up.

Ethan gathered himself and walked over to the living room window, his arms wrapped around him like a large scarf. Even his sweater wasn’t keeping the cold at bay. He peeled the red curtains aside and peered through the frosty glass. Along with the fog, snow fell in flurries, twirling within the air like drunken fairies.

Through some of the fog and snow, he could see houses, more like stone shacks, lining the gray bricked street. Elsmere looked to be more of an old town than a city.

Dark windows gazed back into Ethan’s eyes seemingly staring into his soul. The houses looked dilapidated and grim, and streetlamps garnished the street, lit by gas. What was wrong with electricity in Elsmere? Ethan wondered.

The town reminded him of an animated movie he saw when he was younger,
The Legend of Sleepy Hollow
. And for a moment, Ethan seemed to be waiting for the headless horseman to come plowing through the street, with a fire doused pumpkin in hand.

Just then, the curtains snapped shut, snipping at Ethan’s cold fingers.

“Don’t do that, someone will see you.” Ethan turned and found Sage staring at him. She had a nervous look on her face.

“Why does this town look like it’s stuck in a time warp?” Ethan asked. Sage snickered and patted the couch Ethan had just occupied.

“Sit down. It’s an odd story,” Sage said as Ethan obeyed her and took his seat once again, bringing his legs up and folding them beneath him.

He liked her for some reason, and often it took him a while to become comfortable around strangers, but she was different. It felt as if Emma were here with him somehow.

“Back in the 1600s, the council made it a law to keep all homes the way they were when built. Additions could be added along the years, but if you made any outside renovations or any extreme inside changes, you’d be fined and evicted.

“Eviction in Elsmere results in homelessness and being homeless here is terrible. You’re better off dead. I don’t know why the council has a giant row boat oar up their asses but it’s just the way it has always been. I suppose it’s a tradition this world likes to keep.

“Now, as for the electricity, you can have it, it’s just pined for a lot in Elsmere because it’s expensive to have and it just doesn’t work well in our world.” Sage nodded to the fireplace.

“That is the living room’s source of entertainment. Adam and his father live in South Elsmere, which is more kind to the underprivileged. People get crazy around here. It’s safe during the day… but at night you’d be smart to stay away from your windows because of vamps, and put salt and cinnamon at the bottom of your front doors to keep the Moroi away.” Ethan tensed as the mention of the Moroi.

He had read plenty about them and got the chills just thinking about them. Moroi were ghostly figures that rise from the grave and feast on the living for their energy. Once fully energized, they become demons and could cause mayhem wherever they pleased.

“So if you are thinking of moving here, don’t.” Sage laughed, tossed a small chunk of brittle in her mouth.

“Thanks for the advice,” Ethan said.

“You’re a dark blood, aren’t you?” The words caught Ethan off guard and he tensed.

“I have dark blood but I haven’t—”

“-But you will. I can sense it. Just like I did with my sister,” Sage said, slowly scooting away from Ethan.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Sage.”

“Sorry, but I’m just taking precautions. It took me a long time to trust Preston and Adam. I just have had bad experiences with dark bloods.” Sage stopped midway to Adam. He didn’t stir, not even a smidge as the two spoke.

“I understand, I guess.” Ethan felt uncomfortable now. He didn’t like that she was scared of him; it made his stomach feel strange and gave him an immediate headache.

“My sister, her name is Petra. She is two years older than me and we used to be as close as twins. But my mother had dark blood, even though she didn’t embrace it, it was still her blood. So when we were born, we inherited dark magic. I chose to stay who I was… so did Petra… until something just
snapped
inside of her.”

“I’m pretty certain it was when a vampire ripped her favorite horse’s head off. On her eighteenth birthday, she let the dark have her. After that day, two years ago, I lost her. She tried to kill me and then she just…
vanished
.”

“Where did she go?” Ethan asked.

“She joined Craven and his villain squad and turned on everything she knew. She’s an outlaw now, and she’s wanted by the council. In addition to her capture, she is supposed to be executed after she is recovered. My sister…
you
… stop yourself now before you become my sister, Ethan. Otherwise, you’ll lose everything… and you will never
ever
get it back.”

9

              Ethan couldn’t sleep. All he could think about all night until dawn was Sage’s story about Petra. It was eating at him, searing through his brain like acid. It would not leave his head.

Sage had tears in her eyes as she spoke about Petra, and when she plead to Ethan to stay good, her eyes glistened with sorrow filled mist.

He couldn’t force himself to give up his dark blood, but he would try his best to keep it under, like Bennett had told him to. It was either keep it under… or become his father.

Ethan was hidden behind the curtains of the living room window, watching as the grayish sun bled unto Adam’s street. A wooden sign hung from a streetlamp, with the word
Oberon
scrawled in a white ink across the plank of elder wood. Ethan figured it was Adam’s street name and mentally stored it just in case.

              An old man dressed in rags shuffled slowly up the street, appearing out from the snow and faint fog. The fog hadn’t fully cleared, but it was clear enough to venture through. Chills cascaded down Ethan’s spine. He attempted to pull himself away from the window, but the man turned and caught Ethan’s eye.

Lanky brown skin on his face hung in bulgy lumps, half concealed by a tattered red scarf and a large mustard tinted parka. He was pulling a medium sized gray cart and as the man neared, Ethan saw that the cart was full to the rim with dead cats. Ethan was about to scream, but was cut off by a freezing hand covering his mouth.

              “Don’t scream.” It was Adam’s voice. “You’ll wake up half of the street.” Ethan nodded and Adam released his hand from his mouth.

              “What is he doing with those cats?” Ethan whispered.

              “They are familiars. When a witch dies and has a familiar, the familiar dies with them. Cats are most common as familiars but he’s probably taken care of the other animals already. Craven has killed a lot of witches, Ethan. And more will die unless we figure out a way to destroy him.” Ethan thought of all the witches who had died and the familiars who passed along with them.

The families that the witches lost and the friends who would never get to see them again. It was too painful to think about and he couldn’t stop himself from thinking that it was his fault.

              “This is all because of me and Emma.” Tears rushed from his eyes and his throat began tightening. Adam turned him around, grabbed him by his chin, and stared into his eyes.

              “Don’t ever blame yourself for this. It’s not because of
you
. This is
all
because of Craven. Deep down, the reason why Craven is doing this is because he’s scared of you. He may be a dark blood, and he might have plenty of power. But he’s not a
Drake
, you could pluck him off like a tick and he knows it. That is why he wants to kill you before your birthday. But you’re not going to let him are you?
Are you going to let him take everything from you?
”

              “
No.
” Ethan swiped the tears from his face and stared back out of the window at the man, who was already turning the corner of the street. “I am going to rip his head off and feed it to a hellhound.”

              Glass shattering interrupted Adam’s response and before they could wonder where it had come from, Preston Corwin barreled down the hallway and burst into the living room, startling Sage awake.

Ethan and Adam rushed out from behind the curtains and saw Preston leaning over a chair, breathing hard. Preston quickly found his composure and looked head on at Ethan. Their eyes latched onto each other’s and Ethan’s heart skipped a beat. Something was wrong.

              “Vander has Emma and Logan.”

10

The decaying manor stood on a hill near a frozen lake surrounded by dead, snow packed trees. The windows were broken and vacant, with ragged purple curtains fluttering in the cold gentle wind.

The home looked abandoned and seemed to give off an eerie feeling.

The road to town was long and no footprints or tire trails could be seen for miles. Inside of the rickety old manor, a man and a woman lounged in the living area, the fireplace roaring with white flames. The faint sound of orchestral music was coming from a small battery powered radio that sat on a broken window seal.

              “Go check on ‘em.” a tall tawny man ordered in his rugged southern accent, kicking the side of the woman’s already conked out chair. She stood, quickly and glared at the man before descending down a darkened hall.