Awakened (19 page)

"The date is April first of last year; location unknown; subject Aleixandre, leader
of the Council.” Laurent’s voice grew fainter as the darkness took hold.

***

Location Unknown

Aleixandre:

The last ancient member of the Council

“Sir.” A pale dark-haired man, standing in the doorway, pulls a blond-haired man’s
attention from the neat piles of paper on his large metal desk. The room is large,
filled with floor-to-ceiling windows and heavy wool-like drapes. The dark-haired man
entered through the double doors and made his way to the desk.

Behind the blond stands two large figures that tower over him, guarding him. Another
man stands still as a statue in the shadows, his gaze roving over the every inch of
the room. I move back as his gaze lands on me. His eyes don’t linger on me for longer
than a second, but I still feel their heat. The blond nods, and the dark-haired man
shuffles the rest of the way into the room, carrying a fistful of papers and wearing
an excited expression.

“What is it, Yuri?” The blond-haired man asks, waving a hand to the two guards that
stood vigilant behind him. The men step back, never taking their eyes off of Yuri.

Yuri approaches the desk and places the crumpled papers in front of the blond, and
Blondie eyes them without much interest. Yuri’s excitement is more than noticeable
as he nearly drops the papers to the floor.

“Calm yourself, man. What is it?” Blondie asks.

Yuri sits in the chair facing the blond, smiling widely. “Aleixandre, I think I have
found her.”
Aleixandre is the last remaining leader of the Council of Immortals; I know that
from Jace.

Yuri’s eyes are up bright and wide.

I look around. It’s odd, being here, invading their meeting, but I listen in, anyway.
Laurent called the memory for a reason, and I want to find out why.

“Yuri, I haven’t felt her presence in quite a while. How do you think you have found
her?” Aleixandre sounds skeptical.

“Well, it was actually you that found her, sir, months ago, but we didn’t believe
it was her, because of her lineage. We believed that the mother’s parents were Italian,
but we were wrong. Her mother was adopted.” Yuri hands Aleixandre some of his papers.
“Here are the official documents that we missed.” Aleixandre looks over documents.
“She was born in France, but for some reason, the adoption took place in Italy.”

Yuri’s brow wrinkles, and he frowns. “I am not sure why this is the case, but I found
those adoption papers when I widened my search, proving that the girl’s mother is
a lineal descendant of Laurent—and that Miss Monroe is a collateral descendant of
Laurent, as well. It looks as if someone tried to hide the fact that the girl’s mother
was indeed from France and could be linked back to Laurent.”

Aleixandre still doesn’t look assured. “And you are sure that the mother is not the
Arc, and that is why she was moved from France? Since the mother is well past the
age that would allow her to possess the abilities, what good would she do me?”

“Sir, if it were the mother, you would have felt a connection to her, but you said
that the connection was so weak that it couldn’t be her, that—”

“That it probably meant she was just some sort of medium and not a true Arc,” Aleixandre
finishes. He stands up and places a hand to his chin. “Right now, we have no clue
who the Arc is, and we are waiting for this girl…” He looks to Yuri.

“Eloise Monroe,” Yuri supplies.

“Waiting for Eloise Monroe to prove herself the Arc is nonproductive and we need results
now. Laurent is sending his men out in droves, creating new Chorý. Though Chorý blood
hunts have been successful, we aren’t gaining any ground with them. We are barely
keeping the playing field even.” He heads to the window.

“Sir? I beg to differ.” Yuri places the papers back onto the desk and turns in his
seat to face his boss. “I think the groups are making great headway.”

“Then you are a fool to not see that this is a wild goose chase. It was created to
keep us busy and to interfere with the search for the Arc. For all we know, Laurent
has already found her. His bond with her is much stronger than mine. Mentally I can
follow her, but through their shared bloodline, he can sense her in a way that I cannot.”
Aleixandre paces and seems deep in thought. The hard lines that plague his face seem
out of place, and eyes are hollow.

“We will have to rush this process—test this maybe Arc,” he decides.

“Test?” Yuri asked. “But the labs haven’t created any sort of serum or—”

“Yuri, we are at a time when we are to either act or react. I’d prefer to act and
act now. I have been so soft, thinking that creating more immortals is a crime, but…”
Aleixandre moves away from the window and toward his desk. He takes my mother’s adoption
papers in hand as he gingerly sits on the edge of the desk. “I will no longer play
this game with the morals my fellow Immortals determined, years ago. I have yet to
see a war won by adhering to some moral code, and this war will be no different.”

Yuri looks at Aleixandre questioningly and then frowns. “But, sir, that is how you
gained the loyalty and trust of your Immortals and even of your humans. How will you
convince them that the honesty and morality in which they fought for was wrong?” Yuri
looks disappointed in Aleixandre.

“Are you blind, man?” He stands and paces the floor.

His otherwise stoic guards glance between themselves and then return their attention
to their leader. Yuri looks stunned.

From their reactions, Aleixandre probably didn't often lose his temper. My vision
wavers, but I fight to hold on to it. The truth is here, and I need it.

“Most of my men and women have fought and died, and for what? The ability to say they
died with honor? What honor? What is honor when you are dead, and your enemy still
lives creating the same chaos you died to end?” Aleixandre returns his desk and reaches
for his phone.

“Sir, I think that you aren’t thinking—”

“Are you questioning my ability to lead, Yuri?

“No, sir. I only worry that the choice you are about to make will have repercussions
that we will never overcome.”

“Yuri, I have no time for your fears and worries. You believe you have found me the
Arc, yes?”

“Yes but—”

“Then your job is done.” Aleixandre picks up this phone and dialed. “You may leave
now, Yuri.”

Yuri stands and heads for the door. He turns. “Sir—”

But Aleixandre is already on the phone speaking, and it seems that Yuri’s warning
has fallen on deaf ears.

“Send me Rio and Angel,” Aleixandre says as his gaze says that he is finished with
Yuri.

“Has it really come to this, Aleixandre, that you would need to call on them?” Yuri
asks, his voice dripping with disgust.

Aleixandre hangs up the phone and closes his eyes, looking as if his patience with
the man is wearing thin, but he lets him continue.

“If this is the path that we are to go down, calling in mercenaries into the process
to retrieve and Arc, then what were we truly created for?” The question isn't one
to be answered, and Yuri leaves Aleixandre, shutting the door behind him.

What would he need mercenaries for?

Aleixandre ignores Yuri’s comment and makes another phone call. “Jace, I’m sending
you an address where your target is. I want you there within the next few hours and
then await my call.”

The phone call ends, just as two men—well, giants—step into Aleixandre’s office. The
tanned skinned man with the blackest hair I’ve ever seen is at least six foot six,
and his arms and hands have seen better days. Burn scars ravage half his face, leaving
enough to show that it probably was handsome at one point, though the harsh lines
of hate and anger make that hard to see.

Are these men what the Council of Immortals is created of? Jace’s face has a few scars,
as well, but nothing like the man in front of me.

The second man is smaller than Scarface, but that doesn’t make him small by any measure
of the word. He, too, is a giant—and not just compared to me, but compared to Aleixandre’s
guards.

The blond man looks vaguely familiar. His silver hair falls in thick sheets past his
shoulders, down his back. His eyes are so dark, they seem black, and his lips seem
to be permanently chiseled into a sneer. I can’t imagine what these men do for the
Council. Jace, though scarred and sometimes mean, looks nothing like these two menacing
men.

Aleixandre addresses them. “I guess you could say that I now see reason or that I
am as mad as I have always thought the two of you to be.”

Rio and Angel glances at each other and then turns back to Aleixandre.

“Are you saying that you are ready to create a more immortals?” Scarface asks, a smile
in his face.

Aleixandre frowns. “What? No, at least not right now. I need you two for other reasons.
The last time we spoke, you told me that there were things that you would be willing
to do, things that you thought I was too afraid to do. Angel, I still hold the—”

“Save it, Aleixandre. What is it you need of us now?” Angel asks, the motion bringing
odd waves in his damaged skin.

“Death.”

“What?” Angel barks. “You want death?” He laughs and sits back in his chair. “And
what will you give us in return?”

“Maybe we should ask who it is he wants killed first, before we ask about the task’s
reward?” Rio asks, speaking for the first time since he arrived in the room.

Rio and Angel both look to Aleixandre.

“Leave us,” Aleixandre says. The two guards behind him aren’t as confused as Rio and
Angel. They promptly leave. “You too,” he adds, and the man in the shadows inclines
his head and heads for the door.

“
Budu
blízkou, pokud
mě budeš potřebovat
, pane
,” the man from the shadows whispered as he left the room. Aleixandre doesn’t respond,
but he smiles and nods after the man leaves.

“Why do you keep that beast hidden in the shadows? He should be out there, killing
Chorý.” Rio still stares at the door the man exited through.

“Never mind him. This is a sensitive job, and there will only be a few people who
know of its occurrence, am I understood?”

“Sure, we understand, but Angel and I will take all of the risk, and we will be paid
well for it.” Rio winks at Aleixandre’s smirk.

“I am going to ask more of you this time, men,” He sits back and eyes both of the
men’s reaction to his words. Neither man is affected as they sit waiting for more
information. “This is not just the regular termination contract, this one is different
the targets are humans that aren’t against the Council of Immortals or allied with
Chorý.” Still neither man acted as if this would stop them from completing the task
that Aleixandre would ask of them. “Knowing that, what is your price?”

“It is what we have always wanted. Immortality,” Rio states calmly. He sits back in
his chair and crosses his arms. “And Aleixandre, that is the only thing that we will
accept as payment.”

“Who is it that must die for you to retrieve your precious Arc?” Angel asks, interjecting
himself into the conversation again.

“I accept, now here is the address. It must be made to look like an accident, and
you must make sure that the girl is not in the car at the time, or this is all for
nothing.” Aleixandre writes on a sheet of paper and hands it to Rio, who takes it,
reads it over, and then hands it back to him. “Do you not need to take it with you?”

Rio shrugs. “No, it’s just numbers and a few words.” He points to his head. “Nothing
I can’t remember.”

“Well, you think I could look at it, or someone could tell me who it is we are supposed
to be offing?” Angel asks, and Aleixandre hands him the paper. “Who are these people?”

“Why are you so concerned? Do this, and you get what you want,” Aleixandre answers.

I move closer to the paper that Angel has placed back on the desk.

“Fine. As long as we have your word that we will have immortality once we give you
what you want, we will be on our way.” Rio stands to leave.

I quickly move around him—remembering only afterward that there’s no way to bump someone
in a memory—and glance at the paper moments before Aleixandre crumples it up.

Even though I don’t have a chance to see it all, I see enough. Memorizing my address
had gotten me a trip to the ice cream shop when I was four. When I fell down on the
driveway and sprained my ankle and wrist, I’d lain on the spray-painted numbers of
my address until my father had come picked me up.

He cradled me in his arms until my mother pulled the car around. He’d even held me
in the back seat as we sped toward the hospital. His scent had been soothing.

In that moment, I realize that I will never smell him again, never see his eyes glisten
as he holds me, proclaiming that everything will be okay. Never see the smile my mother
gave me as we left the hospital as she explained how the two of us would stay up late
and eat popcorn until I was ready to return to school.

Honestly, what hurt the most was realizing that I was the cause of my parent’s death.
My powers, powers I didn’t even know how to use well, were the reason why they were
gone.