The Onyx Talisman (7 page)

Read The Onyx Talisman Online

Authors: Brenda Pandos

Tags: #Romance Speculative Fiction

“Well,” Preston began. “We were hoping for more progress before now, but during the memory treatments, Alora had a bit of trouble. She only wanted to go back as far as when the blood triggered his desire, but unfortunately his memories were difficult to trim, especially at the degree Nicholas was suffering. She’d need him to think about what happened, but when he was lucid, he wouldn’t cooperate. So we sedated him, but then his past timeline would mesh together in an incoherent jumble.

“She did her best, but accidentally cut into most of his childhood. Once she realized what had happened, she started working to repair the fractured memories. It’s a big puzzle with mostly snippets of intelligible information. Nicholas has had some breakthroughs recently though.”

As Preston squeezed Alora’s knee, she appeared grieved over the statement, such a competent actress. But I felt her smugness. “I feel horrible about it, Julia.”

Could Preston not see through her lies? She didn’t want Nicholas to remember me. Without our connection, she could get him to retrieve the necklace for her no problem. And if she could get her tentacles on Preston’s past and press delete, she’d be golden. He was the only gatekeeper to the invincibility that dangled on my neck. And there was no way for me to stop her because if I staked her, Nicholas would die in the process as she was above him in the immortal bloodline.

I looked at Nicholas, noting the pain in his eyes, but not because he was hurting from lack of memory. He was apparently reflecting my own horror. I bit my lip to hold back the tears. I wouldn’t give Alora the satisfaction.

“So we were friends? Here? In L.A?” he asked.

I gulped, embarrassed to mention we were way more than friends. “Scotts Valley, actually. That’s where I live, where we met.” My voice was horrifically shaky, sending a flush to my cheeks.

How would he ever love me again? Our relationship was built on the tragedy of my mother’s death and if he didn’t remember that, why would he care? Care that he’d vowed to protect my life because of that event? Without that ingredient, there wasn’t any chemistry—no spark. I was just another plain girl sitting next to him, vying for his affection.

“I need to go,” I said, quickly standing to my feet.

“No. Please.” Preston placed his hand on my arm quick as a flash.

“I’m sorry.” I pulled away, stumbling to the door. As soon as I opened it, the orange light from the setting sun cast its hue across the wooden floor. Both Preston and Alora disappeared, leaving Nicholas, lost and bewildered, watching me from the couch.

I don’t remember how I got to the car or even if I shut the front door behind me, but I zoomed away, lost in a fit of tears. Everything I cared about melted out of my hands like a snowball on a hot day. He was the only semi-normal person who understood me, who fit the misshapen puzzle pieces of my life. He alone knew of my genetic malfunction, and loved me anyway. Alora had robbed me of that, too. She’d taken everything away.

I wanted to run back and blow up the house so the sun burned her into a million dusty pieces. Was this the final straw? How the prediction would play out? That I’d lose him in a way I couldn’t repair? That I would be more consumed with Alora’s death than anyone else’s? Was this what Scarlett didn’t want to tell me?

I needed to breathe, to drive, to get somewhere far away from the insanity. Heartsick and confused, I ended up back at the Beverly Hills Hilton. I ran into the room and locked myself in the bathroom.

“Julia? Julia!” Luke said outside the door, partly groggy from me waking him up from the slam.

I didn’t want to deal with the pain, the sadness, the grief. All that was left of Nicholas was his memories written down in a journal. I wanted mine to go away, too—erased forever. And then it came to me. Scarlett could erase my past just like she’d done with Tyler. I could start my life over, never knowing what a wonderful guy he was. Maybe even right up to the point Phil became a vampire. She could erase Nicholas from my life and put Phil in his place. Phil would agree to it. He’d already offered to protect me emotionally and physically.

The stitching of my life would be easy, well, except I didn’t want to erase this; the day I buried my mother and my family said our goodbyes.

Maybe Scarlett could be subjective. I just needed the pain to stop.

 

Chapter Seven

The next day I pulled myself out of bed with strength I didn’t know I had. The pain, so raw and close to the surface, made me want to crawl into a ball and sleep forever. Not only did Nicholas’ amnesia mince me to pieces on the inside, I didn’t get the resurrection ritual from Alora. I’d have to go home empty-handed and hope Scarlett would keep her promise to Phil in order to save Katie.

With very little conversation, the three of us got ready and drove to Westwood Memorial Park, Mom’s new resting place. A small crowd of people dressed in black gathered at the mausoleum wall: friends she worked with, people from church, past neighbors, and relatives I didn’t recognize.

When Mom’s disappearance had been declared a cold case, the vicious rumor mill spun into action looking for someone to blame. Dad had always said we’d moved so Aunt Jo could help watch us when he traveled, but that wasn’t the entire reason. Though he’d been removed as a suspect, his abrupt decision to leave raised suspicions of the family even more. Unable to handle the constant criticism, he eventually cut ties altogether. The tension, which still floated thick in the air, should have settled when tests proved Dad’s innocence. Even still, old grudges died hard.

I tried to be cordial to the lingering guests, but mostly focused on keeping up my shield. I was adrift, swimming in my own sea of loss, missing my mother and longing for Nicholas. One small misstep would send me crashing into the sharp rocks that were left of our relationship, our love. I had to keep it together. Just for today.

Luke sat next to me and whispered his guesses of who was who in the crowd when a taxi pulled up. Out stepped a woman with a purple fluff of hair—Grandma. I jumped from my seat and rushed her with a hug. Her tenderness encased my broken heart with a large bandage only she could give.

“Dear,” she said, while pushing my hair off my wet cheeks. “It’s so wonderful to see you again.”

“I’m so sorry, Grandma. We just found out why—why I never got to see you.”

“Oh, love. I never blamed your father. Please know that,” she said with incredible sadness. “They loved each other deeply, as only we could know.” A soft smile tugged at her lips but it didn’t lighten her grief. “He shut me out. I should have tried harder.”

She hugged me again and years of longing melted away, healing that place where we missed Mom, the real reason we were all joined together on a gloomy June day.

I escorted her to Luke who recognized her instantly. We joined into another group hug, during which Grandma reached out for Dad and pulled him into the circle.

“I’m sorry, Grace,” he said, guilt swirling around us in a lazy looping circle.

Grandma tsked and, instead of bitterness, she drenched us in love. “That was a long time ago, Russell. And we are together again.”

For that single sweet moment, we all breathed a collective sigh of relief and forgot the past. I marveled in Grandma’s power to be able to encase us all with such forgiveness, mending everyone’s soul—even Dad’s.

Following the short ceremony led by Pastor Greene, people paid their respects and left flowers below my mother’s new resting place in the wall. I left her wildflowers I’d found in a field behind the hotel—similar to the ones Nicholas had planted in her field. A token for him and me, something he would have brought, remembering she loved flowers so much if Alora hadn’t snatched away his life.

The group reconvened at the home of Elizabeth Stanton’s only a few miles away from the cemetery. She’d been Mom’s best friend since childhood. We took Grandma in our car with us.

“You doing okay, Luke?” Dad asked as he parked.

“Yeah,” he said, but I opened up my boundary a tiny bit to find his queasy tummy matched his green complexion.

“I have a few Tums in my purse,” Grandma said, and Luke took them appreciatively.

The small, brick house reeked of Swedish meatballs and cheese fondue, two apparent favorite foods of my mother. The talk turned to nostalgic times, a conversation I couldn’t really contribute to, so Grandma led me to a quiet place off the back patio.

“Where’s that handsome beau of yours?” she finally asked, then felt guilt after my own feelings smashed over me and tears came from nowhere. “I’m sorry, dear.”

“It’s complicated, Grandma. I can’t talk about it.”

“Okay.” She smiled and pushed peace my way, which I accepted. My heart rate slowly subsided.

I sat there, basking in the warmth she’d encased around us, trying hard to think of something other than Mom and Nicholas. All the questions about being a Seer and the real purpose of our gift ping-ponged around in my head instead. How could I ask her without revealing too much?

“Is there a way to help people remember the past with our gift?”

At my words Grandma’s bubble burst, as if I’d intruded on something dark and painful in her life. She vanished on me again, hiding her feelings. “Not that I know of.”

“Oh.” I waited, unsure what to say. I had nothing cordial to offer to ease things for her.

“It’s fine.” She tapped my knee. “We all have our secret heartbreaks, right?”

“Yes.” I faked a smile. Mine had Nicholas written all over it, and Grandma’s had someone else she loved who couldn’t be brought back as well.

She tilted her head and pulled herself together. “I came to L.A. because of my sister. We’d both lost our husbands and her mind had began to rapidly deteriorate. I didn’t need care of a rest home, but Rose needed me, so we came together from South Dakota so she could go to this renowned mind clinic.

“They did what they could, but only after I’d worked with her did she ever show improvement. It never lasted long. I lost her this past summer.”

“Oh, Grandma,” I reached over and hugged her. “I’m so sorry.”

“She’s no longer suffering, so it’s a good thing. I did what I could.” She sighed as a tear glittered in her eye. “Did you already know about your mother?”

The details crowded my head in a fitful storm, every feeling visible for her to see. My strength crumbled, unable to hold the burden any longer. How would I tell her without freaking her out?

“You knew she had passed before they’d found her in the field, didn’t you?” She placed her soft, withered hand on my arm. “You can trust me.”

I gulped, unsure where to start. “Have you ever felt bloodlust before, Grandma?”

She grimaced and squeezed my arm slightly. “Hmmm…unfortunately, yes I have.”

“Who feels those feelings?”

Darkness clouded her features as her eyes pierced through me. “There’s only one unearthly monster that is capable of having those hideous feelings.”

I took a deep breath and swallowed hard. “When Mom disappeared, I saw one of them. I saw what he did to her. I felt everything she felt. That’s how I knew she’d ….”

Grandma choked back her tears and pounded her fist into the arm of the chair. “I told her never to go out after dark. That
they
were out there. That
they
were attracted to us, like a moth to a flame. But she’d already made up her mind we were here to stop them. That we could use our gift to seek them out and somehow destroy them.”

The revelation startled me. How could Mom have possibly come to that conclusion?

I took another deep breath. “Did someone tell her that?”

Grandma wrinkled up her nose for a second, then shook her head. “Only after her gift presented itself in her early twenties did she finally get to see the creatures I’d warned her about. Then her obsession started and she went on a quest to figure out what they were and where they came from.”

I already knew. They came from Cain after the serpent made a deal for immortality. What I couldn’t get over was how Mom’s Seer desires kicked in so naturally right after her empathy powers presented itself. Why didn’t that happen to me? Was it because I was so young? Was it because for the most part vampires scared the crap out of me? Maybe the friendship between Nicholas and Mom wasn’t an accident after all, like when I’d walked into the fortune tellers shop. Was Nicholas sent somehow to be her protector first?

“There, now,” Grandma said, putting her arm over my shoulder, easing my confusion. “Today is a day we remember the goodness of your mother. And one day, we’ll see her again. Death is not the end.”

I studied Grandma’s eyes to make sure someone wasn’t messing with her mind, remembering something similar Scarlett had just said. She blinked back, her face shrouded in kindness. I scanned the shrubberies and trees just to be sure. Was she here, feeding my Grandma this baloney?

“You can’t be serious. This isn’t fair. My mother was murdered by a vampire because of our empathy. And now somehow this gift that attracts them has been passed onto me. This isn’t a gift; it’s a curse. It’s why she died. Don’t you think if we’d been given this ‘vampire attracter,’ we’d be given the tools to defend ourselves? It’s insanity. It’s not okay she died because she lingered too long outside at night. I need her. I’ve needed her every day of my life after
he
took her from me! And I witnessed it. It’s horrible and cruel!”

The blame came spilling out of my aching heart in a messy heap. This vampire homicidal Seer cycle had been going on generation after generation and it had to stop. To only be warned not to go outside wasn’t enough. Someone should have trained Mom in how to defend herself.

“Did Great-Grandma have this gift? What about her mother? And her mother? Why hasn’t anyone taught anyone anything and just left me floundering? Shouldn’t someone have told me to stay inside?” My chest heaved in controlled anger as I stopped myself just short of accusing her of Mom’s death.

Grandma grabbed my shoulders and forced me into a hug as I broke down.

“You’re right. It’s all my fault. I should have been more insistent, firmer. We London’s have this terrible streak of stubbornness. There’s a long line of early deaths of the women in our family. A sad but true fact.

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