Pretend With Me (Midnight Society #1) (27 page)

Hot tears were streaming down my face nonstop now,
and every few seconds they blurred my vision, yet I didn’t
slow down. I couldn’t. My hands tightened around the
steering wheel, gripping it w ith so much tension that my
knuckles began to burn. I didn’t know where I was going
and I didn’t care. I just needed to be gone.

What came next only happened in mere seconds. One
moment I was peeling through the streets and then I
found myself spinning through the air. Loud crashes and
the stomach turning sound of metal colliding with metal
echoed around me as the world literally flipped and
twisted. My body was being thrown and banged into the
car. I was like a paper doll being flung in every direction.
Pain was everywhere, but it was nothing compared to what
my heart felt like at the moment. Nothing could ever
compare to that, and maybe this was the end of it. Just
maybe it would all stop now. Just as I thought that my
head smashed into something hard - I didn’t know what -
and the force of the blow was so strong that my eyes rolled
back into my head and the world turned black.

I groaned out loud as every part of my body ached.
Slowly I tried opening my eyes, but they wouldn’t obey. I
felt myself swallow and even that hurt. “Told you she’s the
pureblood...” an unfamiliar voice echoed in my head. It
was distant and detached somehow. “A human couldn’t
live through a crash like that.” Another groan escaped my
lips. “Fuck, she’s awake… definitely a pureblood…” The
voice trailed off as once again darkness swallowed me. I
didn’t know how long I was out for, but it seemed like
only minutes has passed and then there was another voice
shouting at me.

“Jen!” it screamed, and I realized that it was Eric. I
would know his voice anywhere. “Wake up right now!” the
voice said again but something was off. His tone was
wrong, it was filled with something I couldn’t name or
figure out in the haze that surrounded me. “Open your
eyes, Jen, right now!” he screamed and I began to wonder
why.

Struggling, I tried to open my eyes - to do what he
wanted so he could go back to being the Eric I knew. My
eyes didn’t open though. My eyelids were too heavy and
the strength it took to lift them was too much. I didn’t
have it in me, but I could still hear his voice in my head,
panicked and hard, so I tried again. This time they slowly
opened, sending a wave of pain coursing through my body.

“There you go, that’s my girl,” he said as I blinked
against the blinding white light. For a moment that was all
I saw, then his face slowly drifted into focus. Suddenly I
could see him, leaning over me just inches away from my
own face. Jason and Emily were there too, but I didn't
focus on them. There was a deep frown carved into Eric's
face, and I wanted to reach out and smooth it away. His
eyes were wide and glassy, like crystallized blue orbs about
to shatter. I never wanted Eric to be sad or worried or
looking at me like he was now - as though his world was
just seconds away from crumbling.

He raised both his hands to the sides of my face,
staring at me with pain printed in his eyes. His skin was
hot on mine and it was only then that I realized I was
freezing. I was wet and my clothes were sticking to my
skin. It took me a minute to realize that it was blood. I
could smell it, tainting the air around me.

Not realizing when I’d closed my eyes, I forced them
open again, struggling to stay awake. Every part of me
wanted to give in and let go - to let the dark and numbness
have me. Somehow though, I knew that if I gave in, I
might never be able to get out and that scared me.

It hit me then, like a solid blow to my chest. I didn’t
want to die anymore. I was fighting with everything I had
in me to stay awake, to keep my eyes open, to stay with
him… I didn’t want to die. I wanted to live. As the
realization sunk in the haze surrounding me got thicker.
Everything was becoming more intense. The pain pulsing
in my head grew until it began to feel like my head was
going to burst into millions of pieces at any moment.

Not knowing if this was the very last thing I did, I
raised my hand up, reaching for his face. The movement
was slow and tired, and it cause unbearable pain. At the
motion bright red ran down my arm, dripping from my
elbow.

I was going to die. After everythi ng that I’ve gone
through - all the horrible moments I had survived - I was
going to die lying on the streets, cold and bloodied. Finally
when I wanted to live, I was going to die.

“Sorry I broke your car,” I whispered, taking one last
breath.
I felt him grab onto my shoulders, his nails digging into
my skin as he shook me. I couldn’t see him anymore;
everything had faded. “Jen, wake up!” he screamed, his
voice fading into darkness. It was slow and gentle - like a
candle finally dying, not by the wind but because it had run
out on wick and wax. And probably just like the candle,
just maybe I was out of time as well.

I woke up to a constant beeping sound that was
rhythmic and just downright annoying. More than
anything, I wanted it to stop so I could go back to sleep. I
was so tired and exhausted that if it were possible I'd sleep
for a century. Every part of my body seemed to be alive
with pain. My head throbbed, my throat was raw and dry,
and every time I breathed the movement made my chest
burn. I opened my eyelids and as soon as I did, I instantly
found myself regretting it as a stinging pain burned my
eyes. I blinked against it, trying to focus and found myself
in my bedroom.

The first thing I noticed was Eric. He was sitting on a
chair at the side of me. His head was down on the bed, just
inches from my waist. I stretched out my hand to touch
him but found my movements were restricted. For the first
time since waking up, I looked down at myself and saw
that I had what must be at least four clear, plastic tubing
wrapped around my body, feeding me all sorts of liquids.
There were machines around the bed that I was hooked up
to. I let out a hoarse groan and began ripping the tubes
out.

Instantly the steady, annoying, beep was replaced by an
even more annoying continuous, louder beep. Eric’s head
instantly flashed up and suddenly Dr. Wilson was standing
over him. As soon as they saw that I was staring at them,
they both frowned at me, seeing as I wasn’t dying.

Dr. Wilson was the first to speak as Eric kept staring at
me. “How do you feel?” he asked while Eric stood up and
backed away zombie-like, giving his father space.

“Broken,” I replied hoarsely, my voice coming out like
a dry croak. Now my outside matched my insides perfectly
- both were damaged. Dr. Wilson nodded at me as he
rounded the bed, shutting off the annoying machine. He
then sat down at my side on the edge of the bed.

“That's hardly surprising,” he smiled warmly as his
hands reached out to my hand. There was a questioning
look on his face, and I nodded at once knowing he was
asking permission to examine me - not that he needed
permission.

For a long while I remained absolutely still while he did
his tests. Being born with a severe case of aplastic anemia,
I'd gotten used to hospitals and doctors.

“What do you remember?” Dr. Wilson asked when
he'd finally finished. He straightened himself staring at me
intently, as though he was looking for something hidden in
my face. I didn't answer right away, instead I found myself
frowning as I tried to figure out what was the last thing I
remembered before waking up here. At first I came up
completely blank, and just as the panic was about to set in,
the memories came flooding back in waves of pain,
worsening my headache.

“Um...” I began, frowning at him. “I remember leaving
school and then Eric's voice in my head... he was talking to
me I think... or maybe I was dreaming. It felt like a
dream...” I trailer off looking to Eric for confirmation.
When I caught his eyes he nodded slightly.

“Hmm,” Dr. Wilson mused, his eyes seeming to stare
straight through me.
“Is that... bad,” I swallowed, trying to moisten my dry
throat.
“No, its fine. In fact you're perfectly okay. Everything
checks out Jen,” he said standing up, hovering over me.
“But I suggest you stay on the painkillers,” he pointed to
one of the tubes sticking into my arm that had a clear
liquid in it. “The blood you need,” he pointed to another
tube, this one with red liquid. “You've lost a lot of blood
so you'll be weak for a while,” he frowned, scratching his
head.
“I also want you to stay home. I'm putting you on bed
rest until further notice,” his frowned deepened as he
patted my head comfortingly. “I’ll come back soon to
check on you.” He then turned to leave and Eric’s head
snapped to him suddenly. This was the first time he had
taken his eyes off me since I’d woken up.
“Dad,” he said and Dr. Wilson turned to face him, but
Eric didn't continue; instead he remained silent, his eyes
focused on his father.
“We'll talk later,” Dr. Wilson smiled at his son, but it
wasn't the comforting smile you'd imagine a father sending
his son. Instead this was more like they were keeping
something from me. I frowned at them as Dr. Wilson
turned and walked out the room leaving Eric and I alone.
Dead silence hung in the air loudly as Eric came back to
his original position on the chair at the side of the bed.
His eyes were filled with relief, but there was also a
resigned sadness that I had never seen before. The silence
stretched on as we stared at each other, and then he sighed
and broke it. “I thought you were going to die...” he said,
his voice a monotone as his eyes bored into me.
“For a while... so did I,” I whispered back in a small
voice, making a move to sit up. The movement brought on
another wave of pain, and I gritted my teeth so I wouldn’t
make any sound. Seeing what I wanted Eric immediately
helped me up.
“Sorry I killed your car-” I started but never got to
finish.
“I don’t care about the fucking car, I have others…
What were you thinking?” he cut me off, frowning at me
deeply. His voice was slowly rising.
I was silent for a while, trying to recall what had been
running through my head. “I don’t know…” I finally
croaked out after I’d realized it wasn’t going to come back.
My head was pulsing with pain now and involuntarily I
raised my hand to the sides of my head, only to find that it
was bandaged.
“I need to ask you something, Jen,” he sighed staring at
me intently, searching my face. “And no matter what your
answer is I won’t get mad, I promise, but I need you to be
completely honest with me…” he trailed off, his eyes
boring into my face. I didn’t answer and when he realized
that I wasn’t going to say anything he continued. “Did you
try to kill yourself? Did you do this on purpose?” he asked,
showing absolutely no emotion. His face was completely
blank.
I opened my mouth to answer, but the words couldn’t
come out. They all dried up on my tongue, and not
knowing what else to do I closed my mouth, trying to
think of a way to explain what I’d discovered; that I d idn’t
want to die anymore.
Eric must’ve taken my silence as confirmation, because
he pushed himself off the chair and as he did, it toppled
over falling backwards. Eric was then pacing at the foot of
the bed, in front of me. He turned to me after a moment.
“Jenifer, I can’t keep doing this… I can’t keep... I love you
but I’ve been beyond patient with you, and I won’t spend
the rest of my life wondering if you're going to take a gun
and shoot yourself; if you’re going to jump off a building...
I just can’t do it…”
“I didn’t try to kill myself, Eric,” I whispered so low
that it seemed like only my mouth moved.
“Don’t lie to me, Jen,” he pleaded. “The very least you
can do is be honest with me, you owe me that much.”
“Eric,” I said forcing my voice to work, but it came out
as a dry croak. “I’m telling you the truth. I didn’t try to kill
myself.” I didn’t know what to say to make him believe
me. “I told you that I didn’t want to fight anymore. I want
this to work. I’m trying.” Every cell in my body wanted to
go to him – to touch him, but the stupid tubes wouldn’t
even let me stretch my hand out.
I made a move to pull them all out and as soon as my
hand touched it, Eric was standing at my side looming
over me. “Don’t you dare take those things out, Jenifer,”
he warned sternly, looking down at me with an expression
that made me cringe. I grabbed his arm and pulled him
down at the edge of the bed.
“I've seen that picture millions of times. I'm okay with
the picture, Eric… I was fine and then it was like the
world was crashing down on me… I'm not lying to you
Eric - I swear - I'm telling you the truth… please believe
me.” He studied me for a silent minute that seemed to go
on forever. I huffed out a breath suddenly feeling
exhausted and drained; he was never going to believe me. I
wouldn’t believe me if I was in his shoes, and what made it
even worse was that I could barely remember anything. I
could barely even remember having lunch with my friends
at school. It was all blurred and foggy in my mind, with
only seconds of bits and pieces, almost as if someone had
punched holes into my memory.
“What?” he asked, frowning at me.
“I swear I didn’t,” I pleaded, grasping his hand.
“No not that... you said you can’t remember being in
school either?” he asked, his frown deepening
I realized a second later that he was inside my head,
hearing what I was thinking. Choosing to let it go, I
nodded. “It feels like I was high... there are huge gaping
holes that I can’t fill, but that’s just because I hit my
head…” I trailed off as Eric continued to stare at me, his
expression changing from doubt to knowing and then to
hate in seconds.
“What?” I asked at once.
“Nothing, I believe you,” he told me, his voice
chipped.
“You’re keeping something from me, what is it?” I
asked wondering if it had anything to do with the secret
moment between him and his dad.
“It’s not important. I think you should eat something.”
“I’m not hungry,” I told him but he was already
standing up.
“Doesn’t matter. Don’t get out of bed, stay there,” he
demanded seriously. I nodded, not wanting to piss him off
anymore. “I mean it, Jenifer,” he warned and walked out
of the bedroom.
A minute later Eric walked back into the room carrying
a huge plate and the smell of pizza filled my nose. In his
other hand was a tall glass filled with what I guessed was
Coke. My mouth began watering at once and as soon as he
set the plate down on the bed, I grabbed up a slice of
pizza, biting into it.
My eyes closed and I heard myself let out a loud moan.
I swallowed letting out a loud sigh and opened my eyes to
find Eric staring at me. A small hint of a smile lingered on
his face.
“What?” I asked suddenly feeling self-conscious which
was stupid, because normally I didn’t care what he
thought.
“I missed you,” he whispered.
“I never left,” I replied and then chugged down the
coke, finally soothing my throat. “Besides I’ve been asleep
for what, some hours?” I asked frowning, but he was
already shaking his head.
“Jen, you’ve been out for almost a week… No one
knew if you were ever going to wake up – there were times
when I thought you… Don’t ever do that to me again,” he
whispered, taking my hand in his.
“A week?” I asked, my mouth dropping open.
“Yeah, there was some swelling in your brain and my
dad had to put you in a coma until it went down… After
that we all waited for you to wake up… Christy has been
in here every day, refusing to leave. My mom managed to
pry her away this morning. A few of your ribs were broken
and you’d fractured your skull,” Eric explained.
I nodded slowly and then looked up to face him. “I’m
sorry for putting you and your family through that…”
“I forgive you,” he sighed. “But from now onwards...
just take it easy for a while...”
“Okay,” I agreed instantly. I would do whatever it took
to not piss him off further. Unfortunately, I hadn’t known
that taking it easy would be torture.
The next few days passed excruciatingly slow and
boring. I was forced to stay in bed and only allowed to
leave it to use the washroom or shower. I felt like I was
going insane being cooped up in here. My only company
was Eric, his immediate family members and the TV. I had
probably watched enough TV in the last few days to last
me a lifetime. I was fed up and annoyed.
Eric was driving me nuts. He was being too nice to me,
fussing over every little thing and as sweet as it was, it was
making me crazy. That and the fact that every time we
were alone in the same room desire coursed through my
body like blood. I wanted to rip his clothes off. The urge
and feelings to do that was becoming unbearable. He only
had to lock eyes with me and I got high. My mind would
instantly go blank and all I could think about was him and
sating the urge. I didn’t know how much longer I could
fight this, it was becoming too much to fight. Sometimes I
found myself not even wanting to fight it.
Currently, I was sitting on the bed and he was on the
couch, which he’d shoved at the far end of the room. The
TV was on, showing Pirates of the Caribbean for what
seemed like the hundredth time. I probably knew all of Tia
Dalma’s lines by now.
“You actually do…” Eric chuckled at me from across
the room. He was reading a book and had spoken without
looking up.
“How do you get your ability?” I asked, realizing a
second later that I’d phrased it wrong. “I mean, what
decides what ability you get?” I tried again. Eric looked up
to me then. He closed his book, stood up and walked over,
dropping himself down on the bed. Instantly my
awareness of him sky rocketed, and I clenched my hands
into tight fists at my sides.
“Our inheritance can either be active or passive. Each
bloodline is known for being more attuned to one… Have
I explained about the seven bloodlines?” He asked and I
shook my head. “You’re going to love this,” he grinned.
“Come on, time for a field trip.” His smile brightened as
he stood up, holding out his hand to me.
“You mean we’re going out?” I asked suddenly excited
and over eager to get out of the house.
“Not very far though.” At once I jumped out of the
bed and Eric took my hand, leading me towards the door.
Or so I thought, until he steered us to the corner of the
room. I stared at him in confusion as he pushed aside a
picture hanging on the wall to reveal a small hole, which he
then stuck his finger into. For a second nothing happen,
then there was a sound like air being released as the floor
directly in front of us began folding down into itself,
creating a hidden staircase. “Most of the bedrooms in the
house is linked to this staircase,” he said, turning back to
face me. “If anything should happen, you can get out
through here.” I nodded as he turned back and began
leading me down the stairs.
It was old and made of stone that was chipped and
worn out from time. The staircase was narrow, just big
enough to fit two persons. The walls on either side went
straight up to the ceiling and looked like it belonged on the
set of an ancient Greek movie. The further down we went
the mustier and closed off the place became and soon I
began to feel trapped and suffocated.
Just when I thought that I was going to have a panic
attack, the staircase opened into a giant stone room, filled
with hundreds of stacked bookcases rising towards the
ceiling and glass showcases. I stood in the doorway for a
second, taking everything in. It was overwhelming.
“This is one of the remaining rooms from the original
Wilson Manor. We’re a few feet underground, and it can
withstand any attack – human or Thirdworld. Come on,”
he said and once again took my hand leading me towards
the largest glass case at the centre of the room. I didn’t
know what I was expecting to be in the showcase, but it
certainly wasn’t what I saw.
There was a huge slab of flat stone, extending from one
end of the showcase to the other. It was thick with smooth
edges that were worn out. The stone itself wasn’t what
caught my interest though; it was what was on it - a very
old painting yet detailed and clear in every sense of the
word. The painting was of six boys that looked barely into
their teens. I supposed there was a seventh, but that piece
of the slab had been broken off.
Each person looked so alike that I knew they were
related. They all had the same dark hair, strong bone
structures and more than that, piercing blue eyes that
seemed to stare right back at me. It was almost as though
they were alive and watching us. I only had to take one
look at it to know that this was the real deal. This was
prehistoric, and at the revelation the small hairs on my
body stood on end.
“The seven bloodlines?” I whispered afraid to speak
too loudly. I couldn’t look away from the ancient painting
that seemed to be burning holes into my face.
“Yes,” Eric nodded at my side. “From the left that’s
Marcano, then Andreas, Lombado, Wilson, Dialio and
De’Corvey… We don’t know most of their original names
as they would have changed it according to their current
time.”
“What happened to the last brother?” I asked.
Eric only shook his head at me. “No one knows… Not
even his name is known. Some would have you believe
that there wasn’t a seventh bloodline, except there are
slight traces left throughout history of his existence,” he
explained and then held onto my shoulders, spinning me
so that now I was facing the wall at the far end of the
room.
It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the
movement, and when I focused I saw that the wall held
dark lines crisscrossing each other. I peered in closer and
found that it wasn’t really lines. It was a family tree - Eric’s
family tree.
“It dates back to the very beginning,” he said as I
continued scanning the names, slowly walking down the
side of the wall. One name made me stop though and I
reached out, trailing my fingers along the writing just to
make sure that it was real.