A Fork of Paths Page 3

  “We must return and search for her!” I exclaimed, my voice shaking in panic. I hadn’t even known River for long, but after all she’d done to help my son, I’d developed a strong maternal attachment for her.

  “You need to recover,” Corrine said firmly, even as her brown eyes filled with fear. It was true that I was still feeling weak from the sun, but my skin wasn’t that bad. I would heal. Right now, my mind was in too much of a frenzy over River. I had wondered how the dragons had known to come. Had she been the one who’d instigated their arrival? Maybe she’d had another strange, prophetic dream. The thought only crushed me further. She risked her life to help us, and we left her behind.

  As Corrine vanished, leaving Jeriad with Ibrahim, I prayed that she would find River still floating somewhere in the waves near the cluster of rocks, unnoticed by both Jeramiah and the hunters. Because it was possible that either of them could have taken her.

  “I hope Corrine will find River before we have to tell Nadia what happened,” I murmured.

  Ibrahim continued with Jeriad toward the Sanctuary, and we followed—except my father. He backed away from us, avoiding eye contact. “I’ll heal on my own,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  Ibrahim cast us a glance over his shoulder, as if wondering whether we wanted him to wait for us.

  “Just go full speed ahead with Jeriad, Ibrahim,” I called. “We’ll catch up and meet you in the Sanctuary.”

  I wanted my father to be treated by a witch, but I couldn’t bring myself to argue with him. After losing Kailyn, I guessed that he would crave his own space for a long time to come.

  Before Aiden left, I hugged him, gently so as to not cause pain to either his or my sensitive skin, and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. “I love you, Dad,” I whispered.

  He nodded appreciatively and kissed my cheek back, but his mouth didn’t crack even the smallest of smiles. Then he turned on his heel and marched away from us, deeper into the dark woods.

  I glanced up at Derek’s face. His expression was stoic, though his eyes were filled with disappointment. I understood where his thoughts still were.

  He cleared his throat as he met my gaze. “I guess it was naïve of me to think that he would be different.”

  I reached for his hand and held it tight. I raised it to my lips and planted a kiss over the back of it. “Not naïve, Derek,” I said, meaning it as I looked into his blue eyes. In truth, I was proud of Derek for even being willing to consider that Jeramiah might not be a replica of Lucas. I liked to think that it was my influence that had made Derek develop a habit of not always assuming the worst in people, and first giving them the benefit of the doubt. Though, as I’d experienced more times than I wanted to count, as much as this mindset led to living with a lighter heart, it could also lead one into pits of scalding hot water. Still, I tried to comfort my husband. “You turned out different from your father. Why couldn’t Jeramiah have turned out different from his?”

  He grunted. The disappointment in his eyes was eating away at me. Poor Derek. I could relate on a deep level to his desire for a strong, connected family because it was something that I’d never had while growing up. My family had been as dysfunctional as one could get—I’d had no siblings and had been cut off from both of my parents, until I’d rediscovered them in rather unceremonious circumstances at the age of seventeen.

  Despite the danger Jeramiah had just thrust us into, Derek appeared to have reached a point beyond anger. He was just… sad. And sadness wasn’t an emotion that I was used to from my husband, at least not in recent years. His emotions were usually fiery and swung in extremes—whether in anxiety, joy, passion or anger. Rarely had I witnessed him so crestfallen.

  I wrapped my arms around his midriff and hugged him. I wanted to say something to comfort him, like maybe Jeramiah would come round in the end, but after our first encounter, I simply couldn’t see how it would ever happen. The young man had refused to even listen to us. He wasn’t interested in kindling a relationship with his family. He was interested in only one thing, it seemed—maintaining his posthumous, imaginary relationship with his father, while refusing to believe Lucas was anything but a good man who’d been wronged.

  I planted a tender kiss on Derek’s cheek.

  “We don’t need Jeramiah,” I said softly.

  Derek heaved a sigh. “Of course we don’t.”

  And yet the heaviness didn’t leave Derek’s expression. My comment had been a stupid one, born out of the fact that I couldn’t think of anything else to say. Of course we didn’t need Jeramiah. But to Derek, having lost both his father and brother before having a chance to come to even the slightest cordial understanding, Jeramiah would have been a way to make the past less painful. Less regrettable.

  Derek pressed his lips against my forehead in a kiss, his mind still elsewhere.

  “The man needs help,” Derek muttered after a pause. His voice now sounded more grounded than before, his expression less distant, as though hauling himself out of his melancholy and planting himself back in reality.

  I couldn’t argue with his statement. Jeramiah did need help. He seemed mentally unstable.

  “But it would appear we’re not the ones to offer it,” I said.

  Derek nodded slowly in agreement. But then a frown twitched his dark brows. I wondered what had flitted through his mind as he grunted, “Hm.”

  Julie

  After Arletta and I managed to escape from her turned brothers, we drifted in the ocean for hours. I had not been confident that I’d be able to navigate to land before sunrise—especially since we had no boat and were only swimming—but I’d thought that we’d make it far enough at least for The Tavern’s shores to come into view. It turned out that I was being naïve. Horribly naïve.

  Dawn broke, and my worst fear came to pass. We got stranded at the mercy of the sun’s piercing rays. Though we were lucky that it was the middle of the ocean and not the middle of some sprawling landmass. As vampires, we were able to hold our breath for a long time. This ability was the only thing that saved us. We swam deep beneath the waves and stayed there for as long as we possibly could. Although particles of light still reached us through the water, it wasn’t nearly as bad as being out in the open. This of course made traveling all the more difficult, because I could hardly bear to do what was required to gain a sense of our direction: rise to the surface.

  I couldn’t have known how far we were from The Tavern, but when I finally caught sight of a ship in the distance, I heaved a sigh of relief. We sped up and swam closer. The ship was of unusual appearance—far too beautifully decorated with drapes and flowers, and the wood too intricately carved, to belong to any normal wanderer. And it didn’t appear to be steered by vampires, due to the lack of covering over the deck. I didn’t know who was in the vessel, or whether we would be welcome aboard, but it didn’t matter. We just needed shelter from the sun, and we found that beneath the wooden figurehead of an angel at the bow of the ship. We clung onto the rope fender around the hull and huddled together beneath the shade.

  We kept quiet and remained unnoticed. Toward the end of the day, a small island came into view—an island that I had never come across before, nor even heard of. It was clear that this ship was headed right for it. It traveled the last stretch of ocean and arrived in a small harbor. There was a clank. It sounded like a ramp being lowered. Arletta and I had to lean further into the shadow to make sure that we weren’t spotted as people began piling off the ship. I soon realized that they were witches, and from the conversations I caught snippets of, they were celebrating a wedding. They were certainly dressed for it. Both men and women were dressed immaculately as they levitated suitcases and bouquets of flowers above their heads.

  I couldn’t help but wonder why these witches were even traveling by ship when they could easily magic themselves to any destination in an instant. From the way they had decorated the boat, I guessed that the voyage must have been more of a leisure ride than anything else, and now it
seemed that they would be continuing the festivities on this little island… It was certainly very picturesque and being quite out-of-the-way—perhaps even unknown to a lot of supernaturals—I couldn’t deny that it was a beautiful venue for a wedding.

  Arletta and I waited until they had all left the boat and trickled into the line of trees that bordered the beach, and then we waited a bit more until sundown came. Now we could leave the ship without getting burned. We were both starving as we hurried over the beach toward the mainland. We kept to the trees at first, looking all around us, trying to scope the place out.

  Once out of the small forest, we hurried along cobbled streets, winding in and around quaint thatched cottages and square, stone buildings. We kept to the shadows as much as possible. We soon realized that there was quite a mixture of residents here. We spotted some vampires, witches, werewolves, and even a few foul-mouthed harpies. Arletta and I ended up finding refuge for the night in an old shed filled with hay. From the state of it, it appeared to have been abandoned. Our exhaustion drowning out our hunger, we both flopped down against the straw and fell asleep.

  The next morning, we had to seriously think about what we were going to eat. Those hours we’d spent fighting to avoid the sun had taken a lot out of us. We managed to find several snakes writhing in the bushes nearby, so those became our meal—our disgusting, but sustainable meal.

  In the days that followed, we continued sleeping in the barn. We passed the nights roaming the island, trying to keep our heads down, as we attempted to figure out what we should do next. I couldn’t go back to The Tavern—not after the incident involving Benjamin. One of those men who had come to attack Benjamin had survived, and he would no doubt have labeled me a thief and accomplice in his friend’s death to the authorities.

  Arletta and I spoke surprisingly little considering what we’d just been through together. We were both still in a state of shock, a state of grief. We’d not only lost Hans, but also his brothers, who’d become like my own brothers over the years we’d spent together—witnessing them morph into monsters before our very eyes.

  The truth was, I’d spent the last eighteen years waiting for Hans, and I’d never even considered what my life would be like afterwards. I’d just focused on getting through those years without losing my mind. Now I wasn’t sure what to do—if there was anything we could do other than try to cope with the grief and mourn the loss of Hans and his brothers.

  But as it turned out, our little reprieve was interrupted sooner than we could’ve expected.

  It happened in the middle of the night. Arletta and I were sleeping on a stack of hay when I sat bolt upright, the sound of thundering footsteps filling my ears. Footsteps that sounded like they were coming from just outside. I climbed off the hay stack and swept across the barn to the door. I created the slightest crack with my fingers in the door and peered outside.

  I almost screamed. Whipping through the trees all around us were dozens of deathly pale, skeletal bodies. They moved with unnerving speed and from the looks of it, they were all headed straight for the town.

  How are there so many of them?

  The thought tightened my throat and stole my voice.

  Terrified that one could sense us, I closed the door as softly as I could before whirling around to look at Arletta. She was still sleeping on the hay, a peaceful expression on her face, as though all was right in the world. I was afraid to wake her in case she made a sound and attracted some of the monsters to us. At the same time, she couldn’t remain sleeping.

  I climbed over the hay and kneeled next to her. Clutching her shoulder, I shook her. I still didn’t have a plan. I was just working on sheer instinct.

  “Arletta,” I whispered. “Wake up.”

  Her eyelids lifted and she looked up at me blearily. “What—”

  I pressed a finger to her lips.

  “Just come with me,” I breathed. “Don’t make a sound.”

  Her eyes widened with alarm at the urgency in my tone and to my relief, she kept her lips sealed. I pulled her away from the hay and the two of us returned to the door. I didn’t know where we would go exactly, but we couldn’t wait here like sitting ducks. We were just lucky that they were all heading for the town, and didn’t seem interested in stopping around here—at least, not the last time I checked…

  Shoving Arletta to one side, I planted my fingers along the edge of the door and created a crack, just wide enough for me to peer through.

  I let out a slow sigh of relief as I gazed around. It appeared that they had all passed—how many of them had there been altogether? I could hear the sounds of running, many dozens of footsteps, drawing away in the distance. Gripping Arletta firmly by the hand, I pulled her out of the barn and we stepped among the trees.

  A shrill scream burst out—a woman’s scream, coming from the direction of the town. Seconds later, more screams sounded, and also shouts—male and female alike.

  “What is happening?” Arletta gasped.

  Still, I wasn’t sure if it was wise to tell her. I didn’t know if her nerves could take it, if her brothers were once again within close proximity of us.

  With all the screams and shouts echoing in my ears, I didn’t need to ask myself why they’d come here. But I wondered how they’d gotten here. Had they really managed to navigate the ship all that way? Navigating a ship required skill, intelligence, attentiveness. And in an attempt to numb the pain, I’d been telling myself that there was nothing left of Hans’ former self at all. That the monster I’d seen standing before me back in that cave was not my Hans—that my Hans had left this world and moved on to someplace better. That the monster was just an intruder. But the thought that they weren’t just mindless creatures—that they possessed intelligence enough to navigate a ship—weakened my desperate theory.

  I didn’t know what had happened to Hans, but his condition was clearly contagious. While it likely would’ve taken Hans years to get to the stage we’d found him in, when Hans had bitten into his brother, his brother had transformed within a matter of hours. Now, after the crowds I’d just witnessed rushing through this small forest, their numbers were expanding. Fast. I wondered if the brothers had returned to Cruor to release the others who had been trapped there, Hans included, and now they all ran amok on this small island.

  I shoved aside my jumbled thoughts and forced myself to concentrate. Whether or not Hans was here, we had to get out of here without bumping into one of those monsters.

  “What is going on, Julie?” Arletta whispered, her voice choked with fright.

  I cast her a glare and shushed her before pursing my lips.

  I dragged her through the woods, away from the small barn, until we arrived at the beach. I scanned the length of it and then spotted… my ship. Looming over the shoreline. Yes, they had remained in it all this time, and wherever they had gotten their new recruits, they traveled with them too. Judging from the cries of pain only growing louder behind us, that ship was about to become a lot fuller.

  On seeing the vessel, it finally clicked for Arletta what was going on. “Oh my God,” she wheezed. “They’re here. My brothers.”

  I nodded grimly. “We need to find a boat and get out of here,” I whispered.

  I cast my eyes around desperately for any sign of a small boat along the shoreline. I caught sight of a little harbor further up. Yes. There must be something suitable there. The two of us raced across the sand toward the harbor and scoped it out quickly to see what would be the best vessel to steal. Something told me that most of the owners of these boats would not be returning for them any time soon.

  We picked the smallest boat with the largest engine; three racing sharks, dark teal in color. This type of shark was rare in the supernatural realm—and nonexistent in the human realm—for they were bred by ogres, who made a sport out of shark racing. This boat, however, was too slight of build to belong to an ogre, so I could only assume that a witch, vampire or some other kind of supernatural had found a way to p
rocure these valuable creatures.

  I gathered the reins in my fists and tugged hard, stirring the sharks from their resting state. I was about to urge them forward when Arletta let out a gasp behind me.

  “Julie! Look!”

  I whirled around to face the beach again, straining my eyes to catch what she was looking at. Then I saw, emerging from the line of trees bordering the sand, one of the pale monsters. He was clutching what appeared to be a young woman. Apparently unconscious, she hung limply in his arms as he feasted on her neck.

  “What is that woman?” Arletta whispered. “A vampire?”

  I tried to make out what the woman was exactly but it was hard from this angle. Although I was quite sure that it wasn’t a vampire. Her flesh wasn’t nearly pale enough and in fact had a bronzed tone. Perhaps she was a human? Though the chance of there being humans—quite a rare species in the supernatural realm—on this tiny island was slim. As the creature drew closer to the waves with her, I realized that the woman was wearing a wedding dress. Could that be the same happy bride Arletta and I had spied arriving earlier on the island with her entourage? Yes. I was sure that it was.

  “Duck down!” Arletta hissed, grabbing my shoulder and yanking us both down further in the boat. She was right. I had been careless. We should have ducked down the moment we saw that thing arrive at the beach. Both of us dropped lower in the boat, but I kept just high enough to be able to watch what was happening.

  Although my brain screamed at me to send the sharks lurching forward, away from this deadly island, my eyes were glued to the pale skeletal figure and his victim. He was surprisingly strong for something so emaciated, who looked like nothing but skin and bone. He held her securely, without her feet even dragging on the ground, even as his fangs continued to tear into her neck, causing a trail of blood in the white sand behind them. They reached the ramp leading up to the Mansons’ and my old boat and he boarded it. Is he turning her into one of them? A witch? No. That would be preposterous. He must just be drinking her blood. Witch blood wasn’t even delectable to vampires, although these creatures were unlike any vampires I’d seen before.