Wicked (The Drake Chronicles Book 1) (13 page)

The man’s name was Pargo Hennessy. He had troll and vampire blood in him, which made him look like an experimented on monster, except he dressed as sophisticated as any high class business man, in a gray suit and polished black penny loafers. Warm sunlight poured through the windows, teasing his skin. If he weren’t protected by the Vander’s charm, he would be dust by now.

He owed his life to that man.

              The door to the basement swung open and hot pink heels clacked down the stone steps, waking Emma and Logan from a long night’s sleep. Emma was surprised that she even slept with all that had happened, from their kidnapping, to the torturing.

A tall, slender woman appeared out from the darkness. She was dressed in purple, skin tight leather pants, a black blouse, and her tar black hair was tied into a high ponytail.

She placed her long hands on her hips and stared at the two teenagers, a severe smile growing on her bronze toned face. She had high arched eyebrows, a long beaky nose, and full lips. Her eyes were almond shaped and green, and Emma could see that she was pretty young.

              “I’m supposed to make sure you both are still alive. But if I had it my way, you’d be hanging upside down bleeding to death. But there’s something about you,” the woman walked over to Emma, who’s hands and power were still bound by the rope they had been kept in.

Dark circles glazed Emma’s eyes and it took her a moment to look up at the woman. She was too weak to fight. “You have dark blood. I can
smell
it. I was like you once, until a vampire killed my favorite horse. Something went off in me, and I became a dark witch. But I can sense that you aren’t like me
exactly
. You’re more like my ignorant sister. She’s a goodie, like you. But being a good girl doesn’t save you in the end, Emma Drake.”

              “Oh shut up, Petra. You don’t know a thing about Emma; you’re just a sad little girl stuck in a twenty year old body. You don’t think Vander will throw off the train once he gets closer to finding Craven?” Logan snapped.

Petra hurried over to him and swiftly kicked him across his face with her heel. He tipped his throbbing head back, his mouth full of blood. Angry, he spat in Petra’s direction and it hit her on an arm. She was about to kick him again, but she was interrupted by the echo of snapping fingers.

              “Come now, Petra. Do not batter our guests, we need them conscious.” Vander said as he turned away from the staircase and placed his hands behind his back. Petra, embarrassed, glared at Logan before leaving them and hurrying back up the stairs to the living area.

              “Why don’t you kill us already?” Emma built up the energy to ask.

Vander arched an eyebrow in curiosity and strolled over to Emma, his eyes attached to hers. He looked deeply into her eyes and tilted his head back. His voice, as if amplified by a megaphone bolted through the house.

              “PETRA!” he growled. In a rush, the woman hurried back down the stairs and stood a few feet away from Vander.

              “They look as if they haven’t eaten. As much as I want them dead, they have to be alive in order for Craven to want them, you idiot. Bring them food now, or I’ll let Pargo skin you alive.” With a horrified squeak, Petra ascended up the stairs, her head down.

              “Ethan, have you found him?” Logan asked.

              “No. But I’ve received word that your father has told Ethan somehow that I have got you both. It is just the thing I need. We are already in Elsmere, so is Ethan. It’s only a matter of time before he figures out where we are. And I’ll be ready when he comes,” Vander explained as he walked over to a vacant kitchen chair and took a seat in it.

In the light that shined through the frosted window, Emma could see Vander much clearer. He looked no older than seventeen now with his smooth fair features and his cleft chin. But his eyes were still black and it set Emma on edge.

              “How did you do that?” Emma croaked. Vander looked over at her.

              “What, my dear?”

              “You look my age,” Emma said.

              “Let me tell you the story, since you’ll be here for a while. I was forty-two when I began aiding Nicholas Drake. I was one of the most sought after warlocks around and when Nicholas came to me, he offered me a deal.”

“He told me that he’d bring my family back, if I helped him get a hold of a sacred document, though he never told me what the blasted thing was. See, my parents, and sister perished when they were attacked by hellhounds. I lost everything, including myself. So of course I said yes to Nicholas and so began my new life.”

Emma turned, electrocuting herself with every muscle moving. She stared at Vander, suddenly interested in his story.

              “It wasn’t long before I found out your father was lying to me, Emma. He wasn’t going to bring anyone back. When he was done with me, he was going to kill me, thus reuniting me with my family. So do you know what I did?
I helped your mother kill your father
.”

“Oh yes, dear girl, it was all your mommy’s idea to rid the world of him. I bet you didn’t see that coming. Well, after your father was torn to shreds, he had sent Preston Corwin to fetch me. But he overheard my conversation with a friend about Nicholas’s death and burned down my house. He came inside after me and killed me right there. He disposed of me in the cemetery and left me there to rot.”

              “But you didn’t rot,” Logan said.

              “Hush boy, I am not done. No, I didn’t rot. My spirit was already forming into a Moroi and I found a demon sleeping on a headstone. I told it that it could live in my body, but I was to have all control. He agreed to my contract of a sort, and that night, I came back.”

“I went to your mother’s house, Emma. See, me and your mother, we were seeing each other and I thought she’d know what to do about my issue. But when I got there, she was dead, along with her parents and her sister. They were tied to blood trees in the back lawn. I saw someone leave, but I couldn’t catch up to them. She was six months pregnant, Emma. She was carrying my unborn son, inside of her. No one knew she was with child.

“She had done a spell and anyone who looked at her wouldn’t see her as pregnant. She didn’t want anyone to know just yet. My baby boy was gone, along with the one I cared for.” Emma could see pain in his eyes, even though they were as black as ink, she could tell he was still hurting.

All of this truth was weighing heavy on her shoulders. She decided that after they defeated Craven, in hopes that they did, she’d ask to be stripped of her powers and become mortal. She no longer wanted anything to do with Elsmere or magic. But for now, it was all she had and it was best for her to use it while she still could.

“You might be asking yourself why I have you here, why I’m torturing you when it was looking like I was going to be your step-father. I don’t want to hurt you, Emma. But see, I need to die now, and the only one who can kill me is Craven.

“He’s the only one who knows the spell and has enough power to do it. I want to be with my son… I want to be with your mother. So I’m not going to kill you, dear girl. But Craven will, and in order to get what I want—”

“You have to hand me over,” Emma finished for him. He looked at her, frowning. He looked as if he were about to cry.

“I’m sorry.” He stood up from the chair and walked over to the staircase, his back facing Emma and Logan. “Petra will bring you food. But I expect to hand you over to Craven by Thursday this week. So let’s hope your brother doesn’t take too long figuring out where you are. I hate to have to kill Logan to make everything run a little faster.”

11

Ethan sat still, twisting his fingers and staring into the fireplace. He was still reeling from hearing that Vander had Emma and Logan. Was Emma hurt? Where they torturing her? The rage he was feeling was unbearable.

He’d always promised her he’d take care of her, that he’d always make sure she was safe. Now as he sat, feeling the heat from the fire on his face, he realized he had failed.

They needed to hurry. They needed to get the hell out of Preston’s house and to Oleandra’s before anything else happened. Whoever this Vander Hilt was, Ethan thought, would be in for a tremendous rude awakening when Ethan found him.

“Shouldn’t we be looking for Oleandra?” Ethan finally spoke, turning away from the fire. His eyes were soggy and his nose was stuffed.

Preston walked into the living room and sat a mug of hot coffee down on the tea table for Ethan. Adam and Sage were looking over a tattered map, attempting to figure out which side of the woods they should enter through to find Oleandra’s house. They needed to plan it carefully.

“We need to figure out how to get there without getting seen or getting ambushed by hellhounds,” Sage said.

“You can stop worrying about it now. I called a friend who owed me a favor. He’s bringing Oleandra here,” Preston explained as he sat back in a chair.

“Who exactly did you call?” Adam arose from the ground and stared at his father. Preston hung his head and closed his eyes.

“Cass.”

“
Why would you do that?
” Adam barked.

“He’s the only one who could get to her faster. Things have changed, Adam. We don’t have time on our side. We can’t just go looking for her. We need to get this done.”

Adam kicked the tea table over, the mug of coffee shattering on the ground. Sage stood up and moved out of the way, her eyes wide. Without a word, Adam rushed out of the living room and slammed his bedroom door behind him.

“I don’t understand, what’s going on?” Ethan asked.

“It’s not a big deal, son.” Preston lifted himself out of the chair and headed into the kitchen to make more coffee.

“Are you going to talk to Adam?” Ethan turned to Sage. She was folding the map that was now split in two and semi soaked in coffee.

“He won’t talk to me,” she said. “When he’s pissed, he won’t talk to anyone.”

“I’ll go talk to him then,” Ethan pulled himself up from the couch.

Sage didn’t say a thing as Ethan made his way down the dim hallway. He stopped at Adam’s bedroom, gave it a knock and waited. He hoped that Adam would open it.

“Who is it?” Adam asked from behind the door.

“Ethan.”

A moment later, the door creaked open and Adam moved aside, letting Ethan in. He closed the door behind him and walked over to Adam’s bed, sitting down on the edge. He looked up but the stars weren’t there.

“What happened out there?” Ethan asked. Adam looked at Ethan, his fists clenched and his face red.

“Cass was my step-brother. My father married his mother when we were younger. She’d already had him. He was terrible. He tortured animals and made my life a living hell. Finally, my father broke it off with his mother and they left.”