The Evanescence Chronicles: Volume I Page 7

  I barricaded myself in my room and sat at the computer as I had done countless times before. Only this time, I moved with an urgency that was practically overwhelming.

  “Miss Mercedes—”

  “Something’s happened, Lulu,” I snapped. “Something bad.”

  Lulu’s voice grew less disapproving. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “I’m afraid not. Just please be quiet for a while. I don’t want to have to turn you off.”

  “Very well.”

  I should have thanked her. Much as Lulu disliked it when I didn’t look after my health properly, she always trusted me when I said I had to do something very important. But I was already sinking into my hacker state as I donned my costume.

  The first thing I did was research mysterious murders and disappearances that had occurred over the last fifty years. Granted, countless murders and disappearances had remained unsolved since the beginning of history, but I was looking for ones whose details were kept under tight security.

  It seemed like an odd way to start, but Shadow had barely given me any information on himself, vampires, or this mysterious, powerful enemy. I knew in the depths of my soul that I would see Shadow again, and while I fully intended to demand real answers from him, I knew he would be stubborn. He might even do worse than threaten to choke me. Provoking a vampire may seem suicidal, but I would be damned if I let him fight this enemy alone. I didn’t need solid information in order to try to find him. Even if vampire society dwelled in a separate dimension, they obviously had ties to the mortal world. And a vampire as powerful as Shadow claimed would definitely have agents here. Agents who could reveal secrets and weaknesses.

  Agents who had taken human life.

  It took hours of searching, but one particular murder caught my eye. Senator Peter Young, thirty-nine years old. Apparently, he had a successful military career in his early youth, which greatly assisted him when he decided to run for office. But on April 19th, 2021, he ended up in the hospital, bleeding profusely from an unidentified wound. He died three days later.

  However, the exact cause of death was vague. The hospital staff claimed he caught an infection, but they offered no more detail than that. And no one verified who or what had wounded Senator Peter Young.

  There was my lead.

  I looked at the clock and saw it was almost five in the evening. I also realized that the adrenaline rush had all but faded. Thank God it was Saturday.

  I dragged myself to the bathroom to wash, deciding to turn in super early. Even though the thought of a relaxing bubble bath sounded very appealing to me now, I knew it would cause me to fall asleep within seconds. So I turned on the shower, and let the hot water run over me for an hour. Right now, I was too tired and stressed out to care about my pervious water-saving vows. When I got out, I made sure to get dressed quickly. Even though I liked the dark tones of my bathroom and the vast size of it, I understandably felt very nervous about being alone.

  Vampires existed.

  One wanted to kill me.

  And he would probably succeed.

  I shivered and started to exit the bathroom when my hand brushed against the porcelain rim of the sink.

  Me, pressed against Shadow. His skin so cold and smooth. He had threatened to kill me. But he also let me live on the slim chance that he would be able to protect me.

  He will protect me.

  A knock sounded at my door. I sighed and answered it. It was Natalie. Alongside her was a cart stocked with a seven-course dinner.

  “If you decided to spend the night at Women’s Aid and honestly forgot to call me, I won’t nag you anymore,” she said. “But please remember to do so next time.”

  I nodded. She wheeled the cart in and closed the door behind her.

  I stared at the food. The main course consisted of a roasted pheasant, creamy mashed potatoes, boiled vegetables, and a strawberry cheesecake with ice cream on the side. Any other time, I would have sat down at my desk and feasted as I watched a historical documentary on Alexander the Great or World War II. But right now all I wanted to do was collapse on my bed. However, I knew how much effort the cooks put into every meal they made in this house, so I swallowed a few bites for their sake.

  Bites.

  Shadow’s fangs digging into my neck, feasting on my blood, robbing me of my strength. His face, still so extraordinarily beautiful, twisted with demonic, animalistic rage.

  I pushed back white lace curtains and crawled into my king-sized bed. Dad had gotten it for me for my thirteenth birthday. When I saw it, I told him it wasn’t for me, because only princesses sleep in huge beds with exquisitely soft red and white silk sheets, pillows that felt like they were made from clouds, and a mattress that was technologically modified to heat up during the winter time. But to Dad I was a princess, so my comment only made the present all the more convenient.

  Usually, my bed was like a sanctuary for me. Whenever I crawled into it, I always felt a deep sense of security. But now that feeling of security paled in comparison to another feeling of security. I rested my head against the pillow and closed my eyes, imagining I was in Shadow’s arms again, inhaling his exotic scent, feeling his flawless marble skin beneath my cheek. I curled my hand, imagining it on his ribcage again, his incomparable strength radiating from his powerful muscles.

  But it was his face that I ended up dreaming of. That flawless face with its exotic features, but classic beauty. The blood red highlights in his midnight hair. I dreamed of his beauty and let it wash over me like a waterfall for the remainder of the night.

  *******

  Chapter 3

  So begins a war of souls

  But diamonds purge the plainest coals

  And not by sword or poisoned hymn

  By nature’s loving hand of time

  Shadow

  As I feared, only three days passed before Xavier realized I was still alive. But I had not been idle during that time. I made sure to retrieve the evidence of my assault in the mortal world, and I went through many plans as to how I could dispose of him while keeping the girl safe. I had no concern for my life. Ever since Xavier all but enslaved me, I knew I would not live to see one-thousand. Many elites took Untouchables as their own personal slaves, and some of those elites made Xavier look like nothing. But Xavier would not get the better of me. I would kill him, and then I would die fighting his guards or the soldiers under the royal family. My death would be honorable, and I would have no regrets.

  But there was still the matter of the girl. Killing Xavier right now would be impossible, and now that he knew I was alive, he was undoubtedly trying to discover the reason why. If he found it, the girl was doomed.

  The girl. Mercedes.

  I needed to protect her. My honor would demand nothing else. But I found that my thoughts were straying to her far more than necessary. When her lovely face flashed in my mind, I felt her warmth against my bare skin, saw the fire in her eyes as she boldly claimed she would not give up her life on a chance, however inevitable, that she would be tortured to death. In that moment, I felt something I had never felt for a human before: admiration.

  Many would rightfully call her stupid, but there were few humans who would actually fight for their lives rather than use death as an easy escape. I knew she believed me when I told her about Xavier, how he wouldn’t stop until he had her in his clutches. But at the possibility of torture and death, she jutted her chin out and declared that she would battle with fate itself.

  I could not even begin to explain how much she surprised me. Humans were supposed to be weak and cowardly. Had I misjudged them, or was Mercedes different?

  No matter, I thought savagely. I needed to direct my thoughts to my ultimate purpose: killing Xavier.

  “He’ll summon you soon, Shadow.”

  I had to stop myself from snapping at Brandon for stating the obvious. In an attempt to calm myself, I took a long drink of blood alcohol and focused on the sounds of my fellow Untoucha
bles going about their business in the tavern. A woman and her mate were feasting on a willing human man that was groaning in ecstasy and agony. Five male vampires were playing a game of cards. Someone was called a cheater every other minute. A young girl was ordering a drink so potent it would give her a hangover for the next three days.

  Sometimes concentrating on sounds had a more therapeutic effect on me than silence. I did not know why. But it did help.

  “Shadow, what will you do?”

  I opened my eyes and pursed my lips before I regarded Brandon. To humans, he would look like a slight schoolboy of fifteen with gentle features. In reality, he was a four-hundred year old, fully trained Kshatriya. Like me, he continuously suffered his fair share of abuse and enslavement from the elites, but I would freely admit he was a far more admirable individual. He knew nothing would change his status, and he accepted his fate as an Untouchable. He did what he had to do to survive, all the while following his own strict code of honor.

  Unlike me, he could take whatever abuse the elites put his through without taking any form of revenge. I could not help but admire that about him.

  “I am still uncertain,” I said in response to his question.

  “Meaning you’re going to do something idiotic and suicidal,” Brandon bitterly translated. “Shadow you survived an assassination attempt from Xavier himself, and now you’re planning to throw your life away again!? Have you no courage?”

  I glared at him. “You claim that the reason you bow and scrape to the elites is that your courage would be but a memory if you did not. You claim it takes more courage to live than to die. I respect you for that, but I do not agree. Choosing to die honorably is far more courageous.”

  “I know you need to make yourself believe that,” Brandon said softly. “But I’ve seen your torment, Shadow, your self-loathing. Your hatred of the elites is eating you alive. Many of us here care for you, myself included, but you keep your true self locked in an isolated bubble of anguish.”

  “Shut up,” I hissed.

  “You need to hear this! I eventually managed to control my hatred by finding something to believe in, something I could live for. Even if you succeed in killing Xavier, the royal family will ensure you do not die an honorable death. The only way to escape their wrath would be to commit suicide.” He looked me dead in the eye. “And Xavier still wins.”

  My glass nearly cracked from gripping it so tightly. I imagined Brandon’s neck in its place. My mind raced with foul curses, denials, roars of rage. Brandon did not know how deeply I craved freedom, how I longed for a life where I could go wherever I wished without fear of prejudice, assaults, and countless forms of abuse.

  And he certainly did not know how much I loathed myself for having such a dream.

  My dream of freedom was so unattainable it was not even laughable. The Untouchables would never be equal to the elites in the eyes of the royal family. My dream had less substance than an illusion. It would never come true.

  And yet I could not let it go.

  The tavern door burst open and four soldiers entered.

  “Harijan Shadow!” one bellowed. “Come forth, by order of Xavier!”

  A hushed silence fell, and all eyes turned to look at me. Brandon’s eyes were filled with sympathy and fear.

  “Shadow…”

  I took another drink from my glass, ignoring everyone around me. Then I calmly stood up and followed the guards out.

  ***

  Mercedes

  When the weekend was over, I actually considered skipping school for a while. On Sunday night, I ran through several justifications. The most prominent of all was that my life was at stake. Shadow’s life was at stake. And I would take my own life before not doing everything I could to help him fight this powerful enemy.

  Eventually I decided that skipping school would look far too suspicious. My attendance record was flawless. I had never missed a day of school in my life. If I started skipping, my friends, classmates, and several teachers would be calling me and pounding at my door until I went crazy from it. Also, Sam and Nadine were very clever. Though I managed to keep my double-life secret from them, it never caused me to skip school. They would think I had gone insane, and they wouldn’t stop hounding me until they got the truth out.

  As I thought of my friends, I felt some of my anxiety ease a bit. I was deeply ashamed of the part of me that wanted to confide in them. Maybe they would think I was crazy for a little while, but I knew they would believe me eventually, and that they would do everything they could to support me.

  But that was selfish thinking. There was no way in hell I would endanger them that way. This enemy was after Shadow and me alone. No one else could be involved.

  “You look less tired today,” Nadine observed as we approached school.

  “I feel less tired,” I said.

  It was true, but I didn’t tell them I could probably count the hours of sleep I got over the weekend with one hand. Fortunately, my goal to help Shadow gave me the strength that I needed to keep going even when it felt like I was going to collapse.

  Not to mention that the small amount of sleep I got was thanks to dreaming of Shadow and imagining him holding me again.

  “Mercedes?”

  Sam was staring at me curiously.

  I blushed. “Oh, it’s nothing.”

  “I doubt that,” Nadine said. “No one gets so dreamy-eyed over nothing.”

  “It is nothing,” I insisted.

  Her brow rose. Then a sly smile curled her lips.

  “Thinking about a guy?”

  Sam looked at me sharply, his gaze apprehensive.

  “I wasn’t thinking about a guy,” I said quietly. “I promise I wasn’t.”

  I convinced myself I wasn’t lying, per se. After all, when Nadine asked about a guy, she meant a human guy.

  I sat perfectly still during classes, trying to hide how eager I was to get home. Fortunately, Mr. Price wasn’t in the mood to pick on me today, but he compensated by assigning the class a five page report on the Japanese concentration camps during World War II.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. That would be easy enough to do. I had Farewell to Manzanar all but memorized along with three documentaries. I could probably get the entire thing done in an hour at most.

  By the time I was in Advanced Trigonometry, I was starting to feel very jittery, and not because I had to fight off several offers from History classmates to buy me lunch in exchange for the entertainment I provided them last week. My research on the murder of Senator Peter Young had led me to a man by the name of Abraham Smith who had moved away from the state of New York and never returned. Also, the banks where he had kept his records endured suspicious power failures a few days before his disappearance. The power resurfaced in all of them soon enough, but their data hadn’t. It seemed like somebody wanted wipe away all traces of their past life before they did a mysterious disappearing act. I wasn’t certain this Abraham Smith (if that was even his name) was a vampire, but I would find out soon enough. If I found even one vampire, it was one step closer to discovering the weaknesses of the enemy.

  I only hoped Shadow would save me a lot of trouble and just tell me his name the next time I saw him.

  I clenched my fist when I thought of Shadow. Not the beautiful dark god that stood before me, but the burned, tortured victim who had been so brutalized. The enemy would put him through something a million times worse if he wasn’t stopped.

  That did it. I had to get out of here now.

  “Now then, let’s try another problem,” Mrs. Jackson said. “I’ll make you all a little deal. If even one person can not only solve this problem, but explain how they solved it, I’ll let the class go early.”

  Several pairs of eyes rested on me for a brief moment, and I could have sworn Mrs. Jackson winked at me.

  She then proceeded to give us a problem that was so long and detailed, even the math whizzes were gaping at her within ten seconds. As she spoke, I ran throug
h all of the possible formulas in my head, disregarding those that could lead me to an answer, but would be very difficult to explain. Like with computer lessons, I was of the opinion that people shouldn’t try to deliberately complicate math to make themselves appear smarter. When they teach it, they should explain it to their students in the most basic language they could manage. By the time Mrs. Jackson fell silent, I already had my hand up.

  “Ms. Strand?”

  I got up in front of the classroom and broke down the problem as easily as I could. While I didn’t dedicate myself to math as much as I did to computers, I still managed to post lessons online under an alias. Many students, several of my classmates at Morgana included, emailed me often to tell me my lessons were the reason they now didn’t think of math as some demonic force determined to suck the life out of them. One person even told me I was a fool for not selling my lessons. I could make a fortune they said, and it made me laugh. Not because I had enough money already, but because they thought it was about money rather than sharing knowledge.

  As I talked, several students took notes all the while looking as if several light bulbs were going off in their heads. It nearly made me smile. When I finally fell silent, everyone was gaping at me, including Mrs. Jackson. Half the class whistled and applauded while the other half glared at me in jealousy and anger.

  “Well done, Mercedes.” Mrs. Jackson was grinning like a Cheshire Cat. “Very, very well done. I gave that problem to Charlie Benson yesterday and it took him nearly half an hour to figure it out.”

  I could practically hear my jealous classmates’ jaws grind. Charlie Benson was the superstar of Morgana’s math team. He had won the school five trophies over the past three years in international math competitions. I knew I was quite good at math, but I admit to being shocked that I had actually beaten Charlie Benson.

  Not that I would be arrogant about it, of course. “Charlie’s a genius, Mrs. Jackson. It’s just one problem. I guess I just got lucky.”