Bound (The Grandor Descendant Series Book 3) (28 page)

Ari huffed but hung her head; she knew full well that Ragon was right. Though she had taken several driving lessons, it did not equate to having her license.  

Ten minutes later Ryder, his hair newly styled to the side and dressed in casual slacks and a blue vest, Ari and Ragon were driving to Mark’s house. The moment they left the Pasteur Institute parking lot, thick raindrops fell from the heavens, causing the roads to become wet, black and shiny, which when combined with the thick white fog that rolled from the forest and obscured the bitumen, made viewing the road almost impost. To make matters worse, Ragon did not slow down. Ari knew that his haste was due to his dislike of her plan and so she sat opposite him, trying hard not to react every time the car skidded along the road, or the other drivers honked as Ragon sped past them.

When they finally pulled up to Mark’s house it was pouring down with rain. Ragon blurred to open Ari’s door and when she jumped out of the car, rushed behind her, his hand on her back as the pair moved quickly to the front entrance. Quickly Ragon knocked lightly on the door three times.   

“Hello?” said an unfamiliar male voice.

As the door swung open, Ari, Ragon and Ryder stared back at Mark. The three were crammed next to each other on the tiny front deck, trying to hide from the rain that was licking at the roof top and with each gust of wind, threatening to force its way closer and drench them.

“We’re here to see Patrick,” Ragon said politely, making to move through the door but Mark blocked his way.

“I don’t know if Patrick wants to see you,” said Mark, his eyes rested on Ryder.

“I don’t know if that is
your
decision,” Ryder spat back.

Ragon was just about to interject, when a noise behind Mark signified Patrick’s arrival.

“I need to talk to you,” Ryder said, standing on his toes as he craned his neck to see past Mark.

“Yea, well, I don’t want to talk,” Patrick said glumly.

“Told you,” Mark said childishly, glaring at Ragon, who was standing so close to him that the pair was almost touching noses.

“Patrick,” Ragon said, and Ari thought that there was a tone of authority to his voice, “please let us in.”   

Mark had clearly interpreted this as a challenge. In an instant his face changed. It looked as if he was going to hit Ragon; his fists were balls at his side and he swayed on the spot, as if gaining momentum.  

“Very well… come in then,” said Patrick, and Mark’s eyes bulged in disbelief.

“What a lovely home you err, have,” said Ari, when the three had walked awkwardly inside, skimming past Mark, who had barely given them enough room to pass.  

It was clear from the state of the immaculate furniture, several unpacked boxes and the general feeling of disuse, that the house had not been inhabited for long.

“Were still settling in,” said Patrick.

At Patrick’s words, Ryder looked momentarily disheartened, but his eyes quickly hardened and he moved over to a large and grotesque picture of a naked man, saying, “No accounting taste.”

Instantly Mark made to move over to Ryder, but Patrick reached for him, grabbing his hand and holding onto it tightly.

“What do you want Ryder?” said Patrick, his voice tired. “I’ve let you in, so what do you want?”

“You know what I want!” Ryder replied, looking down at Patrick and the hand that was still clasped to Marks. “I want you.”

“But not as much as you wanted Glenn?” Mark spat, “Is that about right?”

“The only thing I wanted and took from Glenn, was his blood,” Ryder said imploringly, his eyes shining up at Patrick, desperate for him to believe this.

Ari watched as Patrick’s face fell, just as Mark’s hardened.

“Then why did Glenn tell us differently?” asked Mark.

“You seriously trust what Glenn and Mark says over me?” Ryder asked. “I don’t know why, but I am sure that Mark planned this… all of it. He is trying to drive a wedge between us.”

Patrick shrugged, looking at Mark temporarily before glancing down at his feet.

“I don’t need to drive a wedge between you,” said Mark, “you have done that fine on your own.”

Ryder shook his head, his angry eyes shifting from Mark as they settled imploringly on Patrick.

“I’m telling you the truth. Why would I lie? Why would I cheat on you? You know how I feel. I don’t know why Glenn lied about us, but nothing happened,” Ryder said. Still Patrick did not reply, and so Ryder took a hopeful step towards Patrick and added, “There’s really nothing I can say, is there?”

“No,” said Mark, before Patrick had a chance to reply.

Ryder continued to stare at Patrick, searching his face for a shred of hope, but it did not come. Without warning he blurred to the front door and threw it open, a temporary gust of wind reaching into the living room, where Ari stood by the outrageous painting. At the entrance Ryder hesitated, placing both hands on the frame of the door as he turned slowly so as to face the group. The wind flecked around his hair, blowing it wildly, just as his deep blue eyes seemed to lighten, while small droplets of rain glided down his marble face, though it might have been tears, Ari wasn’t sure.

Ryder’s eyes were rested on Patrick when he said, “When you offered to turn me I never once hesitated. Even when you told me I would have to give up my family and my friends… even when you told me that I could die. I didn’t risk everything so that I could become immortal. I did it because I wanted the chance to spend eternity with the first man I ever loved. I never betrayed you. I never would.”    

A second later and Ryder had vanished. Ari didn’t hesitate but raced after him, holding the door open and staring out at the cold misty night, looking for him.

“Ryder,” she yelled, just as fog curled from her mouth only to disappear into the hazy air.

There was no reply, though behind her, Ari heard someone whistling tuneless, and turned incredulously to stare at Mark. He was clearly dubious.  

“Well,” said Ragon, reaching for Ari’s hand and intertwining it within his own. “I think we’ll be leaving too.”

“Good,” said Mark.

Ragon pulled Ari towards the door, but just before he reached for the handle, Ari turned around to glare at Patrick. She felt that his dismissal of Ryder was a kind of betrayal.

“Didn’t you hear him?” she said, and Patrick looked up at her when she spoke. “He gave up humanity to be with you. Ryder could never lie. Not when he was human and not now that he is a vampire. If he says he didn’t cheat on you, then you owe it to him to at least listen.”

Patrick released Mark’s hand at these words, but still he did not speak. 

All the way back to the campus, Ari stared out of the car window in search of Ryder. Her plan to try and reunite him with Patrick had failed miserably. When the pair returned to the campus, she noticed a bus pulled up next to the entrance of the university. There were many students bustling off it, duffel bag in arm. Ari didn’t recognise any of their faces but she was sure, judging by their general youthful appearance, that they must be studying at the Pasteur Institute. Shrugging indifferently, Ari made her way back to Omega halls alone; Ragon had said that he needed to hunt. The moment she was inside her room, she collapsed onto the bed and quickly called Ryder. She wasn’t entirely surprised when he didn’t answer, so settled on writing him a text message instead:

‘Can you call me when you’re feeling up to it? I want to know you are ok.’

Her phone vibrated and Ari saw that she had received a text message, not from Ryder but from Lea:

‘The spell is done. I have opened your mind to the future… at least I think I have. I am feeling pretty drained, the magic wasn’t easy, but I’ll come by your room as soon as I can with some of the missing students personal belongings to see if you get a premonition. Hope that’s ok! Lea’

Ari read and reread the message, finally writing back:

‘Sure.’

Looking around her room mournfully, Ari reached for the picture frame that sat by her bedside table. Her eyes scanned the image of the coven in its entirety. Eight faces shone back at her: Larissa and Cambridge, Sandra and Thomas, Clyde, Ragon, Patrick and Ryder. Ari had photo-shopped Sameth out of the image before she had gotten it framed. Taking the picture with her to her bed, she fell back against the soft quilt, her eyes remaining locked on the image. Soon her hand became heavy and still clasping the photo, she let it fall by her side, succumbing to the temptation of drifting into a peaceful sleep.

But her dreams did not offer the serenity she had hoped for. They were dark and full of murder and despair, and even more frustrating was her inability to clearly make out anything. She saw a man covered in shadows, whose face she couldn’t see but was painfully familiar to her. He was watching two small children play by a stream. In an instant he had blurred towards them, grabbing them and holding them under the water. It was a vampire; only a vampire could move with such speed. Ari watched helplessly from beside the stream as the children’s arms flailed at their sides, just as small splashes signalled their struggle against their attacker. A moment later and the vampire retreated, whistling as he raced back to the outskirts of the woods, while the lifeless bodies of the children bobbed along the now still surface of the dark water.

One more murder she witnessed, just as carefully planned as the last. This time the victim was a man. Though he could not have been older than fifty, his face was lined like that of someone who had lived with great sadness in a very short time. Ari watched in horror as the vampire expertly tied a noose, again whistling in a cheery manner, before slinging it around the man’s throat, hoisting him up over the banisters of a high barn roof. Unlike the two small children by the stream, the man did not struggle as his life was stolen from him, and Ari thought that it was almost as if he welcomed death.

There was something odd about these murders. The vampire never drank from his victims, never even bit them, almost as if he were trying to conceal that a vampire was behind their deaths. And every time it was the same man; though she could not see his face, he whistled the same eerie song as he committed the murders.     

Then her vision took her to a cemetery. She was surrounded by people dressed all in black, whose pale faces were punctuated only by puffy eyes that shone with salty tears and red noses. She watched as a large coffin was laid to rest in the ground and an old priest crossed himself and began to chant.

“Ye’, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”

As the priest spoke, a young man knelt down in front of the grave and cried, his face hung low. When the funeral had finished and the cemetery was deserted, he walked over to two other freshly dug graves next to each other and prayed. She didn’t know how she knew, but she was certain that this man was mourning the passing of the two children and the older man whose murders she had just witnessed. Ari continued to watch him, her heart automatically mimicking his, as it broke from the loss, as if somehow his pain had become hers. When the man looked up, Ari gasped. Though his face was shattered and hollow from sadness, she knew without a shred of doubt who it was- Patrick.