“That’s enough, Logan,” he calmly says. “Leave the man to recover.”
I look back at the trucker. His eyes are closed, his head lolled to one side. He’s pale, but not deathly so to the point of turning.
I take a breath, telling myself that I took enough to hold me over. Even though my throat still burns. Gently, I drag him to the side of the building. I prop him up there, balancing him so he doesn’t fall over.
Rath digs through the trash for a moment, before producing an empty beer bottle. He walks over and stages it in the poor man’s hand.
“What if he remembers?” I ask.
“It’s doubtful,” Rath says. He grabs hold of Eshan and hauls him up and over his shoulder. “And if he does, who would believe him? What proof is there?”
I look back over my shoulder at the poor man as we walk back to the car. I help Rath get Eshan positioned in the back seat and climb into the driver’s once more.
“I’m a little tired of having the brain of multiple people,” I say as I back out of the space and aim once more for the freeway. “Because this is where Sevan is grateful that there are willing feeders in Roter Himmel. No unwitting victims of our thirst, like that man there. But then Logan is kind of disgusted and baffled that actual humans willingly live in a place like that, where they know they’re going to be fed off of, over and over.”
“It’s difficult to even imagine what you’re going through,” Rath says.
“So you understand why I wasn’t quite ready to return to Roter Himmel, where everyone expects me to just go back to normal. Where everyone only acknowledges Sevan and expects me to only be her.”
I swallow once, thinking of how difficult it’s been, every single time. “You understand why I’m not yet ready to go back to the man that did this to me.”
“I understand,” Rath says quietly.
The miles go by too fast. Louisiana disappears one mile at a time, and it’s not long before I see the Mississippi River coming up on the GPS screen. And a moment later, the town name of Silent Bend joins it.
I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until my tires hit the enormous bridge that crosses the river and state lines. My knuckles are white as they grip the steering wheel, and I actually have to tell myself not to crush it.
“Alivia has many faults,” Rath says as we cross that bridge. “Has made many mistakes. But she is also a good leader. Someone who cares greatly about those that surround her. The tale that Cyrus has told you of her is just one side of the story.”
I look over at Rath as we reach the other side of the bridge. And the storm inside of me calms just a little bit.
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
I focus on the road before me once again. I try to pay attention. This town is significant to my family, my history.
With the guidance of the GPS, I turn off the highway and onto a road that leads right into the heart of the town.
I enter the main road just by the river. The head of Main Street begins at the water’s edge. And there, just before the land falls into the water, there is a gigantic tree. Stones circle it; it sits there like the centerpiece of town. But it’s entirely dead. Not a single leaf clings to its blackened branches, despite being the end of July. A shiver works its way down my spine when I look at it.
There’s a church, and then another one. A beautiful city building sits on the south side of the road. A few restaurants. A grocery store. And then the schools, elementary, middle, and high.
Then the GPS tells me to turn left, past a few neighborhoods.
My eyes glance down at the screen. One minute until we arrive at our destination.
My heart rate increases. My palms grow sweaty.
Rath glances over at me once.
“Are you nervous, too?” I ask.
“Yes,” he admits. “This was my home for a very, very long time. But I have not seen it in sixteen years.”
I reach over and take his hand. “Thank you,” I say as I glance over at him. “For protecting me all of those years. I know I was just mad at first because I didn’t understand who you really were. But thank you. I realize now just how much you sacrificed.”
He looks at me. He doesn’t say a word. But he nods.
“Arrived,” the GPS voice chirps.
And I turn to the left, where Rath points.
A gigantic stone fence wraps around the property, sprawling out in either direction. A huge gate, built with intricate iron, blocks our way. The crest of a raven is set in the center, the name CONRATH inlaid beneath it.
“Do I-” I begin to ask.
“Just wait a moment,” Rath says. And then nods his head when the gates slowly begin to open.
My entire body is trembling as I let off the brake and roll forward.
After twenty years of not even knowing the woman’s name, I’m finally going to meet her. Face to face.
The grounds are amazing. Gigantic trees line the driveway. Long tendrils of moss hang down from their branches. Flowering bushes are splashed everywhere. The grounds stretch wide and grassy.
But ahead, a house crests into view.
The middle section is white, with gigantic pillars holding the roof up. The wings spanning to the left and right are sided in stone.
It’s massive.
And beautiful.
It looks like something out of a fairy tale.
“How old is the house?” I ask, admiring the classic Southern plantation style.
“It was built in 1799,” Rath produces the fact without a moment of hesitation.
“Amazing,” Logan marvels. There’s nothing like this in Colorado. Nothing even close.
Rath directs me to park in front of the garage, which is on the south side of the house. I feel like I’m vibrating as I put the car into park. My entire body is electric. On high alert. Fight or flight.
But still, I climb out. I’m pretty sure my heart is going to pound out of my chest.
Rath takes Eshan and slings him over his shoulder.
And together, we walk up the sidewalk to the massive front porch. I take a deep breath, raising my fist to knock on the front door.
But suddenly it opens.
A woman with tears brimming in her eyes smiles at me.
“Hello, Logan.”
Chapter 11
A breath slips between my lips. My face feels numb. All the blood in my body stops moving.
It’s very nearly like looking in a mirror.
That’s my jawline. That’s my exact nose. Our hair is nearly the exact same shade. Same ears. Same eye shape.
My lips are just slightly fuller than hers. My brow isn’t quite as strong. I’m slightly shorter than she is, but with a few more curves.
But everyone has been right.
I look just like her.
And finally, I can’t deny it myself.
“You’re so young.” The words slip out of my mouth before I can think about them.
And she smiles, and a little laugh rushes over her lips.
“I guess there are some perks to immortality,” she says, smiling and looking me over.
What I said is true. Alivia Ryan Conrath looks hardly older than myself. Maybe a few years, but not much.
She looks like…like she could be my sister, and the both of us should be heading out for a night on the town.
She doesn’t look anything like a woman who has been the leader of a House for sixteen years.
“I…” I shake my head, trying to get myself together. “I mean, I knew you’d been Resurrected for a while, I guess I just had this picture of you in my head. You looked…”
“A lot closer to your mother’s age?” she takes a guess.
Her eyes are full of fear, nerves. Her throat is tight, and I can smell the sweat on her palms.
I nod. “I guess.”
I finally take a look around, now that the initial shock of seeing Alivia for the first time is over.
The inside of the house is even more beautiful than I expected. A beautiful staircase wraps around the entry and rises to the second floor. Beyond this space, I can see a great ballroom. Ornate carvings are inlaid into the walls. Gold and blue and green are scattered everywhere.
Above us, I find a brilliant, gorgeous chandelier.
It’s stunning.