Feather: Book One Read online

  Edgar sighed, his hand tracing mine, “After that picture was painted, they began dying, soon after,” his voice cracked and he paused for a moment. “You ordered me to immediately burn the painting, but I couldn’t, you loved Vermeer, you loved them. I see now that it was a mistake to keep it.”

  A fresh tear formed in my eye and my notions were suddenly affirmed. There was a reason to my need for that day in the painting, that record of life. I was glad he hadn’t burned it. I needed to see that moment, I needed to remember it.

  “Margriete was like family too us, same with Matthew.” There was a sudden resentment and a cold twinge to his voice, “But he used us Elle, to lure them all in. I assure you I never knew and neither did Margriete. She had no idea of the fate that was waiting for her.” He touched my ear with the tips of his fingers.

  He rustled the covers over me and I felt him tuck the blankets under my sides before sliding next to me and placing his arms around my waist. He was distancing his touch, allowing my emotion to cool.

  I struggled to speak, “Why…” but the words came out in a choked muffle and I cleared my throat and tried again. “Why do I remember these painful things, why nothing wonderful or happy? How did I not do something to stop this?”

  A light laugh filled the room and his breath fell across my ear, “But that was a wonderful day, that day was one of your happiest. The way you smiled, the way you looked,” he stopped, his warmth relaxing me.

  I thought hard to remember it, he was right. It wasn’t the day that had been horrid. It was the days that followed, the darkness that would soon descend upon us in a shroud of death. The gods were sadistic and cruel to do this. All we wanted was to be together, to live in love forever.

  “I don’t want you to think I’m protecting you from your past, I couldn’t keep that from you. Your life is your own. It just pains me to see you this way, but perhaps if I told you some things, now while you’re already upset, would that help?”

  I felt him run his hand down the length of my arm, my body still shaking but I needed to know, I wanted to know. Nodding my head, I let it softly rest on the pillow, my hair tangling around my face.

  He sighed and I could sense he was going to hate this moment as much as me. “Margriete, Gloria, and Hazel were your best friends, your sisters. You were each as different as the next, each unique and beautiful. When you were together, you seemed to make up every kind of personality, the perfect friendships.” He exhaled, “Gloria was obviously very vain, and conceited. Do you remember the story I told you about the first couple to succeed, to live after meeting for the first time?”

  I nodded, now putting the pieces of my past back together.

  “Gloria and Alek became our friends and her vanity came with a certain understanding. In her mind she was royalty and could not stand anyone being better than her. But to you, she was your…” he paused to think of the right term, “your Barbie doll of sorts.”

  A soft laugh escaped through my tear stained mouth and something inside me believed him, something knew how furious she was for not receiving the praise she’d believed she rightfully deserved.

  Edgar leaned in close to my ear, brushing his lips against my cheek as they curled into a grin. “And Hazel was envious, always jealous of everyone. She always thought her bronze hair and eyes were bland and boring. No matter how hard she tried, she could never fly like the rest of you. She had a short attention span and as a result she was clumsy and ignorant.” He laughed in my ear, “You treated her like your little sister and you were always protecting her, watching out for her when she wouldn’t, or couldn’t.”

  My heart was bursting with warmth, but also frustration. I could feel that her death had been the hardest on me and my body shuddered in pain.

  “And then of course there was Margriete,” I could hear the deepening despair in his voice, “She was your best friend and the only one that was just like you. She was carefree and never worried about her beauty or her belongings, and because of that, you were both far more beautiful than the rest.”

  My body went cold as chills pulsed through my veins.

  Edgar squeezed me tighter, “She was the last to disappear. You instantly suspected Matthew but I didn’t believe you, I realize my fault in that.” He paused, his voice breaking, “You were the first to notice when Gloria and Hazel were killed that their partners were also brutally murdered alongside them. But Matthew hadn’t died with Margriete, and you didn’t believe his stories, his lies about how she’d run away in fear. Your eyes were far sharper than mine. I was furious with you, horrified that you could blame someone that was like a brother to me.”

  My eyebrows furled as the anxiety of that fact made my body feel rigid and angry toward Edgar. How could he manage to make friends with someone that held that sort of fury, but then again, perhaps they all had, and the notion of murder was just over the threshold in which they stood.

  “You knew he had taken her and was just hiding the evidence of her body. I should have seen it in his eyes but the deep silver was hiding it all.” He brushed his nose across my face, “It’s my fault Elle, you see. Not yours.”

  A wave of guilt washed over me, and I took a deep breath as I closed my eyes and allowed it to clear my head. “No,” my voice was surprisingly stubborn, “It was Matthew’s fault, his alone.” I wiggled out of Edgar’s iron grasp, “I understand now, it wasn’t me that caused all the pain and the suffering, not even us. It was you and I that saved our species and we still can.” I rolled over to face him, his eyes stormy, “Edgar, this time when he comes, I will have the guts and fury to help kill him. I can’t run anymore, and I don’t want this to happen again.”

  He traced his finger across my furled brow and I could see my flashing eyes reflected in his. A smirk crossed his face, “There’s the fire I knew you had.” His breath fell across my lips and I found it warm and intoxicating.

  I smiled back as I wiped the last tear from my face. I was done being afraid, done running away from life as it tried to knock down the door on me. Edgar stared deep into my soul as he bent forward and pressed his lips against mine, sliding his hand alongside my back with a controlled but firm grasp. I gave in, realizing that I was being reckless but as I pressed closer, his lips curled into mine and his teeth gently grazed my lip. The kiss felt desperate, as though our lives were suddenly fleeting. I thought about the day I had died, wondering if we’d even had the chance to say goodbye. The memory was still too painful for Edgar to explain.

  We molded together for a brief moment before he pulled away and untangled himself from my grasp, his eyes black, and his breathing hurried. The thoughts in his mind had vindictively turned over, his jackals baring their evil teeth.

  “I really think you ought to reconsider your motives,” he joked, a sly grin leering across his beautiful face, the thunderclouds breaking with hunger across his eyes.

  I understood the place he was in and I giggled, enjoying the fine line I was toying with and the rush of adrenaline it pumped through my heart.

  He stood, grabbing my hand and pulling me from under the covers in one gruff move. I squealed with laughter as he twirled me out into the room, curling me back into a low bow, his strong arms cradling me with little effort.

  He sunk his head against my chest, his lips a breaths width away from my skin. “But, I do love your sense of adventure,” he whispered, his scent swirling around me. His touch was delicate as he pulled me into his arms and looked at me with multifaceted adoration and a deep everlasting love.

  As he set me down, I gave him a smart smirk. The fear that had crippled me all week was gone and I realized that I was safer than before, we had the advantage. Besides, I was a delectable piece of bait, soullessly deceiving to my predator. A plan began to form in my head, a plan I could never tell Edgar, there was no way he would allow for it. He was too protective over me and too cautious to ever allow me the chance to get that close to Matthew, to touch his skin. A sudden power endowed me and it was there tha
t I vowed to avenge my friends, my family.

  FREEDOM

  It had been over a month now since the Ravens had appeared and Christmas was only a week away. I sat looking out the tall arched windows of the library as Edgar held my hand, flipping through a large book about Alaska that sat balanced on his lap. His CD player blared opera throughout the house and the clocks on the wall ticked with annoyance in time with the singing as I stared at the snow-covered field, thick flakes falling on the already saturated ground. I rested my head on the back of the sofa with my legs curled under me, biting the nails on my free hand with anxiety.

  I had spent endless hours thinking about my plan to kill Matthew, ever since I found the painting, the idea formulating in my mind. I had ceased trying to figure out how to get my soul back, it was in Edgar for a reason, to keep it safe. I had already figured, three hundred years ago, that I had meant it to be that way. Our soul was where it was in order to make me free, to give me the ability to take the risks that are needed to end this once and for all.

  The meadow was empty and cold and the wind whipped the snow in wavy drifts, gathering it into invisible dunes around the eaves of the house. Things were beginning to feel ominous as we waited. It was just a matter of time before things would come to a head and as we sat there helpless, the stillness pulled heavy on my mind.

  I was growing increasingly anxious, like an injured duck swimming in a spiral of bloodthirsty sharks. Would Matthew come here? Or was it better to hunt him down first. If I made myself the bait, I would have to be prepared for the outcome, and whatever pain may come with it.

  A heavy sigh released from my lungs but Edgar didn’t seem to notice, or rather, wasn’t up for listening to my constant droves of overreaction. As I glanced back outside, my eyes caught the glimpse of something moving in the snow. I sat up straight as an arrow as I squinted and glared through the misty window, my lips parting and my breath becoming heavy like a hunting dog.

  My first thought, as I darted my eyes across the field through the panes, was that it was only the swirling snow playing tricks on my mind. I caught the sharp flash of my eyes reflecting in the glass, the crystal blue piercing back at me like the sun. I shook my head in annoyance, figuring it was just the glare of the light off the snow and I relaxed my chin back down on the sofa.

  Edgar hadn’t moved, still locked in his stony silence toward me. My wary eyes scanned the treetops and again something flashed across my blind spot. I furled my brow as I tried to recognize what I’d seen. My heart rate quickened, pulsing into my hand as Edgar grasped it. I sat up again, this time eagerly watching, my mind refusing to look away. I thought about that day in the woods, when something had followed me to the waterfall, but whatever this was, was too small.

  Another minute passed and I felt Edgar watching from the corner of his eye, his body beginning to sense my unease. He tightened the grip on my hand, my palms beginning to sweat. Concentrating my gaze back on the field, something again moved and that’s when I finally saw it. A white cat darted across the meadow between two drifts of light snow. I jumped and Edgar looked at me in annoyance.

  “Estella, what is your problem?” he boomed.

  I looked at him wide eyed. “Did you see that?” I gasped.

  He turned and looked out the window behind him, “See what Elle? I don’t have eyes in the back of my head you know.” He gave me a sly smile.

  I snorted, “I’m not joking Edgar, there was something out there.”

  He squinted through the bright glare on the glass, “I don’t see anything Elle. Was it black?”

  I looked at him with aggravation in my eyes. “No,” I said tartly.

  He touched a finger to my nose and I swatted it away, “Seriously, it was a white cat or something.”

  A mocking laugh grumbled in his throat, “You really think a cat could live up here in the frigid wilderness?”

  I didn’t like his condescending tone of voice and my eyes blazed at him.

  He lifted his eyebrows as he leaned back in surprise. “Wow, ok then,” he breathed. “I guess if I were to tell you, you were probably seeing things, you’d rip my head off, right?”

  I glowered at him. “You’re such a bully,” I hissed.

  Looking back outside I saw the distinct pop of a tail as the cat jumped through the trees and into the woods. My jaw fell open in disbelief. I wasn’t crazy, this I knew for sure. What I saw was really there, but as Edgar said, that was absurd. I stood and tried to peer further into the woods, standing on my toes and leaning against the couch for support.

  “Elle really, please sit down.” He was treating me like a child and I strongly disliked it, “We are in the woods you know, there are wild animals.”

  I snorted. “I didn’t realize cats were wild,” I said under my breath. Edgar looked at me with one eyebrow raised, his face threatening but his eyes a soft blue grey.

  Plopping down on the couch, I crossed my arms across my chest in annoyance. I glanced up toward where the small arched room was, a sudden eagerness filling my soul with the desire to view the painting again, to see my friends and stare deep into the eyes of my enemy.

  I shot out of the chair in one fluid movement, dropping Edgar’s hand with a forceful thump and darting to the ladder.

  “Elle, I’ve told you that’s not safe, I wasn’t just saying that so you wouldn’t go up there.” His voice was nagging and it only fueled me more.

  With a ginger hand, I navigated my way up the creaky ladder, “Then maybe you should get me a new one,” I shot toward him in a bratty tone.

  He snorted as his face curled into another seductive grin and he dropped his gaze back to the book.

  I popped up to the top rim, my soul fading as the playfulness began to leave me. I eyed the field again, now getting a better view, but to my dismay nothing was there. Each time I touched Edgar, the feeling of happiness seemed to linger longer than before. I was like a rechargeable battery of sorts, only, you wouldn’t want to leave me unplugged for too long because then I just became self-destructive and bratty.

  I curled my fingers around the rail, walking like a toy soldier in a bored attempt to make Edgar laugh. I rolled my eyes as I finally gave up, feeling the depression begin to grip my chest. Rounding the corner of the narrow walkway, I delved into the small sitting area and plopped down in the chair, now drained and tired.

  Isabelle flew up to the top railing where she tilted her head and looked at me with bored curiosity from outside the space. I patted my thigh and she floated down onto the chair, nesting herself in my lap with delight. I scratched her head and she furled her feathers, her eyes slowly closing in bliss.

  “You saw the cat, right?” I scratched her in vigorous strokes as she kept her eyes shut, uninterested in my trivial question.

  The candle streamed a gentle light on the photo and I looked at Margriete, her hand eternally resting on the chest of her two-faced partner, her murderer. The tiny white owl that rested on her far shoulder still perplexed me, its sharp yellow eyes gazing out from the canvas like a statue.

  In the painting, I recognized Isabelle perched at my feet as I sat in the blue silk chair from my bedroom. I glared with anger at my face in the painting, still spiteful and annoyed with myself for being so vague. Edgar’s arm on my shoulder looked proud, his love for me stronger than his thirst for our soul.

  I took a deep breath and exhaled with dark rage. I missed having friends, even if I couldn’t remember them. I thought about how easily Scott and I seemed to get along and my heart tugged as I began to feel sad about leaving him and Sarah behind. But come spring, they would be back, and hopefully so would I. Despite my initial social clumsiness, I had fallen into their friendships with comfort and intrigue.

  I sat up then, Isabelle looking at me with annoyance as I gently pushed her off my lap and into the chair. I shuffled to the railing just outside the archway where I looked down on Edgar.

  “Do we have a phone?” I said bluntly, remembering that Scott and Sarah had
given me their cell phone numbers, not that they worked out here, but it was worth a try, just to check in.

  He dropped the book in his hand and looked at me with parted lips, “Uh…” he was struggling which meant one thing, we did have a phone. “No?” His voice cracked.

  “You are such a bad liar,” I narrowed my eyes at him.

  He pretended to be hurt but I wasn’t so naïve.

  “Oh. come on please? I miss my friends, I won’t tell them where I’m at, I promise.” I stuck my bottom lip out in a pout.

  He laughed, shaking his head at me, “Well you’re supposed to be back in Seattle.”

  I looked at him curiously, “What?”

  He tilted his head back and his eyes looked sheepishly grey, “Since I forbid you to leave the house, I just told everyone you refused to take my nasty personality and you left the college forever, that’s why I had to take in your colorful car.”

  My jaw fell open, “You had no right!” I squeaked, “You can’t just bottle me up and wait. I didn’t even say goodbye!”

  A laugh got choked in his throat, “Well what should I have said? I kidnapped you? I had to make them believe that you hated them so much that you would never contact them again.”

  I was glowering at him, his attitude still all fun and games. “How do you do that anyways? Make a hallucination or holograph…” I struggled to find the right word, “Or whatever you call it.”

  I walked around the second level toward the ladder. Edgar stood from the couch with a lazy yawn and walked toward me as I began to descend. His large hands grabbed my waist and lifted me down before I even got half way.

  “And how come you get to be so strong,” I spat, my ego now damaged. He rolled me around in his arms where he cradled me in such a way that I couldn’t fight back.

  His grin was so big it made his eyes slant and his youthful skin wrinkle around his nose, “Because Elle, we’re opposites, where I am strong, you are sharp.”