Awakened (12 page)

I picked up the fork and continued the conversation with Darke. “What is it you all
want from me?”

Ana shifted. It was the first time I’d seen her looking the least bit uncomfortable.
Darke chuckled, and I ignored the anger that drifted through me and settled in my
stomach.

“Anastaise, she acts as if we do not know that she knows what she is.” Darke’s sarcasm
was the least of my worries.

In a day, I would find out firsthand what Laurent truly wanted. I knew what Kale and
Jace and Darke had told me, but I wanted to hear it from Laurent’s mouth.

“You know what’s expected of you, so don’t play dumb with us. It’s annoying. And what’s
with all the questions?” Darke pointed a finger at me. “The past two days, you have
been asking questions you already know the answers to or know that we won’t answer.
What are you playing at?”

“I have not, and I’m not playing at anything,” I retorted around the piece of bread
in my mouth. “I have asked you questions about Laurent and yourselves. How could I
possibly know the answers if I have never met any of you before?”

What was he, nuts? I didn’t know any more than what they had told me. I tried to be
content with my ignorance. Kale and Jace had told me surprisingly little about the
people that Laurent associated with, and on top of that, even if I’d known an iota
of info about Darke and Ana before I had arrived, I was sure that it wouldn’t have
been enough to stop me from asking them questions.

“And what’s with the attitude all of a sudden?” I turned around to face Darke.

Ana ran her hand through her hair and released a nervous breath. “Listen, we are all
here for our own reasons. Upsetting Ella will get you nowhere but on Master’s bad
side, Darke.” Ana moved from the chair and continued speaking to Darke in French.

Ana and Darke finished their conversation and headed into the other room. I ran to
the window and peeled back the black cloth covering. I was extremely disappointed
about the lack of clues outside. Other than a bunch of trees and a stable, there was
nothing that could help me decipher where I was. Maybe the apparently conflicting
details were a ploy to confuse me, or maybe we were somewhere that spoke French that
wasn’t in France, like Canada.

I was still confused. Darke had been gone for quite a while. I hadn’t seen him since
that morning, and I wondered what that meant if anything.

I looked outside again. The only difference between the view outside and the view
in Cedar was that there was far less snow here, and the house—or whatever we were
in—sat on a hill. To the left was an actual stable, horses and all. Earlier I’d heard
a plane overhead, so we had to be in a travelled area, with plenty of people around—I
hoped. The idea that I could be close to an airport excited me. Airport police were
bound to be all over the place. I could use a horse to get there if it wasn’t far.

I memorized that barn area—noting the lock on the barn door and the window just big
enough that I thought that I could fit through—then ran back to my seat. I had less
than a day to be left alone long enough to find a door leading outside, get into the
stall, saddle up a horse, and ride in order to leave.

Ana and Darke only left me alone when I showered before bed. That was a problem. It
would be hard for me to navigate the horse in the dark. Maybe there was a house nearby
where I could get to a phone and call Kale or Alex. Then I could hide out until they
came for me.

The plan seemed like a long shot, but it was the only one that I had. I had to try
it, no matter the consequences.

***

Later that afternoon, Darke had disappeared again, and Ana and I sat in my room, silently
watching a movie on the tiny TV in the corner. The conversation from earlier still
weighted on my mind and I couldn’t help but wonder why Darke’s attitude had changed
so drastically and so quickly. It bothered me. Maybe something had happened to that
Leif guy that he was worried about, or maybe it was something else. “Ana?”

She turned to me, losing interest in the movie we were watching and straightening
her blue frock. What was the deal with the clothes that she wore—and, for that matter,
the ones that she’d given me? She was always wearing the same shade of blue, and tonight
I wore a blue and white plaid dress with elasticized puff sleeves, red flower buttons,
and small scalloped edges. The dress had a plaid collar, panel, and sash that seriously
dated the dress, taking it back to the fifties maybe even the forties.

I kept Hélène’s necklace in the hidden pocket on the inside of the dress. I had thought
about hiding it somewhere in the room, but as often as Ana cleaned it, she would have
definitely found it. “What is going on with Darke?”

She turned away.

“Come on,” I coaxed. “Why he does he hate me so much, and why does he think I know
you guys?” I scooted to the edge of the chair and peeked at her face. I seriously
wanted to know. Even though I hoped to be long gone in the next hour, gathering more
information about my jailers couldn’t hurt.

Ana rolled her eyes and turned to me. “He doesn’t hate you; he hates what it cost
him to find you.” Her straightforward answer surprised me. “You think we are all bad,
do you not?”

I didn’t want to admit that and have her clam up on me.

“You do, I know it.”

I still didn’t respond, and how hurt she looked surprised me. What was I supposed
to think of her? I may not have known her past or even Darke’s past, but I had seen
Laurent murder. Ana and Darke had somehow played a role in it, whether I’d seen them
in the memory or not.

She snorted and moved from her chair and stood in front of me. She pulled the collar
away from her neck, revealing a bright red tattoo. She leaned toward me, giving me
full view of the snake eating its own tail and her name
Anastaise
beneath it.

She had to have been nuts, to show me that. “Are you trying to prove to me that you
can’t be trusted? Because I saw that same tattoo on the bald guy who tried to snatch
me from the mall and ogled my friend in her home. That tattoo tells me more than your
mouth could ever!”

Ana laughed and corrected her collar. “Of course, bald headed, tattoo, and he tried
to take you from the mall,” she said pensively. She placed her finger on her chin.
“If he tried to take you, then his tattoo was definitely not the same as mine. I am
not allowed to leave this place ever, and my tattoo proves it.”

I rolled my eyes. There were some things that I could forget, but that tattoo was
not one of them. Her tattoo was smaller and red, but it still looked just like baldy’s.

Ana shushed me before I could retort. “He is a warrior, so he has a dragoon eating
its own tail, without his name under it.”

She crossed the room again and absently poked the fire. I waited patiently for whatever
excuse she was going to create. I frowned. My memory was a little fuzzy, but I did
remember the tattoo. It looked exactly like Ana’s, only his was black and much larger.
Ana was right, there wasn’t a name under it, but what difference did that make?

“My tattoo is a snake, not a dragoon, and the name given to me, Anastaise, means ‘rebirth
or resurrection.’ The bald man you speak of is Xavier.”

Her words piqued my interest, but I tried not to show my curiosity. I sat back and
waited for more.

“We were all given a name when we were recruited.” She paused. “We were all named
by how Master came upon or stole us. My name was Sophie, but when I was changed, Master
named me Anastaise, because my rebirth was on Christmas day.”

I wasn’t sure how to process that. If I believed that not everyone with Laurent was
there by choice and that Laurent had stolen some of his people, maybe Kale and Jace
were wrong. Maybe they could recruit people to their side—maybe even save a lot of
them.

That is, if I believed her. She hadn’t convinced me yet. “You’re saying you were forced
to be here?” I asked skeptically. “You are Chorý. You can defend yourself, Ana, and
it’s hard to believe that, in all the years you’ve been here, there has never been
a time when you could escape.”

How dare she pretend that the lives she helped take weren’t on her head, too! Hélène
took responsibility for the things that she was made to do for Laurent, and none of
it was truly her fault. She was human. How could she defend herself from Laurent like
a Chorý could? “You’re making excuses, Ana. You could help me get out of here. You
could help me get home. But you won’t. You will sit here until your
Master
comes back and hand me to him on a silver platter!” I yelled, surprising myself—angry
at her for seeming so helpless, angry at Laurent for holding her here, and angry at
myself for not fighting harder to get away.

Ana didn’t defend herself the way I’d thought she would, her face slackened, and she
backed away from me as if she could dodge my words and my anger. I wanted to hate
her, but I hated myself, as well. The fact that I was an Arc and had the ability of
second sight was the reason why I was here, because without that, I wouldn’t have
been in the stupid situation. Ana was visibly shaken.

“You cannot tell him that I feel forced to be here!” Ana put her hands over her face,
then ran them through her hair, knocking out the dark green vine tangled throughout
it.

Her outburst of fear—and toward Laurent—surprised me.

Darke rushed into the room and ran straight to Ana. He calmed her in French and then
sent her into the hall. Her widened eyes shone with unshed tears, shocking me further.
Why was she so weak? She had the strength of ten men; what was I missing?

Darke approached me, and it took everything inside me not to run. If I’d ran, he would
catch me—and maybe without the control he used as he grabbed my arm and pulled me
close enough to speak directly in my ear.

“Fine. You were taken from your home, your friends, and your family, and it angers
you.” Darke took my chin in his hand and pulled my face to meet his black eyes, which
were flooded with anger and hate. His breath was hot; his voice was low and sharp
as a knife as it sliced through me. A shiver went down my spine and snatched every
bit of stability from my knees, causing Darke to tighten his grip.

A pained cry escaped my lips as he and I stood so close I could smell the winter air
on his skin. He squeezed more tightly, and I felt myself bruise beneath his grip.
I bit my lip to offset some of the pain, but it was no use. His anger had truly been
tested, and his inability to control his strength was proof.

My heart sped up. I lost my breath and began to panic, trying to pull his hands off.

“You know nothing of what Ana has been through. You don’t know how much you and that
girl have in common, so watch your mouth when you speak to her.” He abruptly released
me.

I fell hard, knocking the wind out of my lungs. It rattled my bones and awaked old
aches and pains in my side and down my legs.

I scrambled up and away from Darke as he battled what seemed to be the urge to punish
me the way he thought I deserved. Emotions played across his face, and none were what
I wanted to see, but anger and fear helped push the adrenaline through my veins.

“You d—don’t know me,” I gasped, holding my arm as it started to throb. “You don’t
know what your
Master
will do to me! Or do you?” I asked growing more confident as I gained my voice back
and as the anger and fear that I had somehow been able to hide continued to make its
attempt to rise to the surface. Darke turned away from me and strode toward the door.

How dare he tell me that I should understand their problems, their situations? He
had no right, none whatsoever. If the roles were reversed, I would help them escape,
and I wouldn’t think twice about it.

“You are so naïve. I thought that the Council would have at least taught you what
you were up against.” He still faced the wall, seeming to try to calm himself, so
I tried as well.

Jace and Kale had both told me what I was up against.

“You think that everyone who follows him is so willing.” Something other than anger
slipped into his voice—regret, maybe even sadness. “You have no clue what you are
up against, the way he can manipulate hate and love and turn you into someone you
no longer recognize.”

It didn’t seem as though Darke was talking to me anymore. Maybe I could reach him;
maybe I could convince him to help me leave. He and Ana could come with me and work
with the Council. It would be hard to convince Jace that they could change, but I
had convinced Jace and Kale to work together, and that worked out better than I had
expected. The Council would be even more powerful if they accepted the help of Laurent’s
right-hand man. It was probably ridiculous to hope for such a thing, but all I had
at this point was hope.

I had a choice to make, and quickly. Try to convince Ana and Darke to leave with me,
risking my plan to leave, or carry out my plan alone, unaided by the only two people
who could make sure that I escaped without incident?

Darke frowned at me. “I can see in your eyes that your mind is already made up, that
no matter what you learn about Ana, you will always blame her.”

He laughed darkly, the black of his eyes leaching into the white. He stalked toward
me, and I backed away, into the bed. Darke closed the space between us in a few steps.

“This world is not what you think it is, Ella. The safe little cocoon you have built
in your head, to shroud the memories of your loss and pain, is a figment of your imagination,”
he whispered. He stood not even an inch from me, and I had to crane my neck to look
into his black eyes, leaning against the bed to steady myself.

I tried not to let his words affect me, but how could they not? The ‘cocoon’, as he
called, it did work. I hadn’t thought of the night I lost my parents in months. I
hated myself for trying to close them off in the vault in my head, but I could only
cope with one situation at a time. Darke was not going to make me feel bad because
of that.