The Other Side Of Midnight - Page 19

She stands and goes back into the caravan, and I feel the muscles in my body relax.

Suddenly I become aware there is someone else in the woods with me. It is the old witch. She is moving slowly in my direction. Usually, when I hear her moving around looking for herbs, roots, and fruit on my mountain I move away.

I turn towards her and wait. She is carrying a small lamp and I see her light moving slowly through the trees. Finally, she appears.

“Are you ready to take her?” she asks.

“No, guard her for me for a little while longer,” I say.

“I can’t watch her for much longer. Soon they will come.” Then she bends her head and mutters something in Greek about her magic not being able to keep them away.

“It won’t be much longer,” I promise.

She lifts her head, and focuses her old eyes on me. “I will do everything in my power to help you, my Prince. Everything.”

I incline my head. “Thank you, Zelena.”

She bows low. “Good night, my Prince.”

“Goodnight,” I reply, with a nod.

She takes a respectful step backwards, blows out her lamp, and begins to walk slowly towards the clearing. I watch as she crosses the field on her short, thick legs. As she reaches Autumn’s caravan she turns and glances in my direction, before disappearing behind it.

There is so much adrenaline in my body, my hands are shaking. I start to run. I run as fast as I can. Freezing wind rushes into my face and hair as I streak through the woods all the way to the highway. Then I run along the deserted road for almost an hour. When I finally come to a stop, my hands are no longer shaking with excess adrenaline, but the craving for her has not abated. Not one bit.

I turn around and begin to run back the way I came, towards my car. I take off my light jacket, throw it into the car, and slide into my seat. I turn on the ignition and slam my foot on the gas. My car hurtles through the night as I travel up the narrow, pot-holed, dangerous road at breakneck speed.

As I get to the gates, I see that I have guests.

William greets me at the door, his face impassive. “Your mother and sister are waiting in the music room, my Lord. May I get you some refreshments?”

I don’t allow my expression to change. “No, thank you, William.”

When I arrive at the entrance of the music room I see they are both already on their feet, guarded and waiting. My gaze instantly fixates on my mother. Her hair is worn differently, but the years haven’t touched her at all. Her auburn hair, ruler straight, extends down her back to her waist, but she is slender and as imposing as ever. Like me, her face is carefully expressionless, but her eyes are watchful and calculating as she gazes at me. She is as familiar to me as the hairs on my head, but even after all these years, I still can’t look at her without my stomach turning with hate.

Isadora immediately steps forward, her eyes filled with warning, but I ignore her and address the woman who gave birth to me.

“What are you doing here?” My voice is icy.

She smiles at me, a soft and endearing smile that aggravates me even more. Does she think such manipulations will work on me? I glare back at her.

“It’s been so long, Rocco,” she murmurs. “You still haven’t forgiven me?”

The fury that sears through me is impossible to resist. Forgive her? How dare she? “If you don’t leave right now, I will rip you apart.”

“Rocco,” Isadora breathes. “She’s your mother. She just wants to make up. She loves you. And no matter what she thought she was acting in your best interests.”

A lifetime ago Isadora could have made me believe the fairy tale that because this woman bore me she has my best interest at hand. But no longer. Even an animal will fight to the death to protect its child, but for this shallow, vain creature it is her own best interest that she places above all else.

I turn and begin to walk away.

“Isn’t it high time that you appreciated what I did?” she dares to ask. “That… that woman was a disease. She was going to ruin you and, just like I predicted, she did. Look at you now. It’s been so long and you’re still not over her.”

“Mother!” Isadora warns, beginning to move in front of my mother.

Neither could move fast enough to avoid me.

In a flash, I’m on my mother, my hand is curled around her neck. The smell of her perfume sickens me. “You keep testing me, Junia,” I snarl.

“What are you going to do?” she taunts. “Kill your own mother? Go ahead.”

Tags: Georgia Le Carre Vampires
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