Shattered Promises - Page 43/44


Alex’s pulse is pounding through his fingers and against my own racing pulse. His free hand sneaks around his back and he feels around for the knife. He pries my fingers off it, steals it from me, and holds it at his side. “I’m sorry.”

I pull my hand from his and search for a weak spot or wide gaps between the Death Walkers that maybe I can slip through and then run out into the night. Because, I’m not going down without a fight.

Alex draws his elbow back and then his arm darts forward. It happens so quickly it takes my brain a second to catch up, but when I grasp what is going on, blood is spilling out of Stephan’s chest. The knife is lodged in his chest, right where his heart resides.

A river of blood empties down his body and his skin goes white as he stumbles back, banging his elbow against one of the ruined shelves that hangs from the wall. He’s killed his father! Really killed him!

“Run,” Alex orders as he whirls to me. He shoves me towards the stairs that lead to the house. “He’ll recover in a second.”

“But you stabbed him in the heart.” I trip up the bottom step.

He shakes his head. “My father’s immortal, Gemma. More than immortal. Even the sword won’t kill him.”

Those words shake the earth below my feet and I swear to God the ground is about to open up and swallow me whole. Alex shoves a very stunned me into the house and I collapse to my knees and hit the side of the dryer. I skitter to my feet and stand up as Alex starts to shut the door.

“You’re lying,” I say and step towards him. “That’s… no one ever mentioned anything about that.”

“That’s because no one knows.” He reaches forward and pushes me back with strength that bruises my skin. I fall back and bang my head on the wall. “Now run. Just get somewhere and hide until I can figure this out. All that matters at the moment is that you're alive.”

I’m unsure if it’s a heartfelt moment where he reveals his true feelings or if he’s referring to the star. I start to open my mouth to argue, but Stephan appears behind him and the door slams shut as he tackles Alex from behind. I run through the house and head for the kitchen to get a knife, but the front door blows open and is ripped from the hinges. A wave of ice rushes into the house and glazes the wood floor as a Death Walker marches inside.

I turn back for the garage door, but a Death Walker is coming in from that side. Not having anywhere else to go, I sprint for the living room and hop over the coffee table as herds of Death Walkers thunder through the sidewalls. They’re stronger than I thought; using their bodies as a wrecking balls to get through the walls of the house. They’re overtaking the place; their eyes lit up and their corpse fingers seeking my body.

Fuck. I need a plan. I back toward the sliding glass door, glide it open and, not giving myself time to rationalize, I run out into the forest, into two-feet of snow, with no weapon because it’s the only choice I have left.

Night and the cold surround me as I swing my arms and battle the branches, fighting my way deeper into the trees. The snow is in my shoes and the cold pierces my lungs. A ways in, I make a curve and follow the moonlight, hoping I’ll come out near the driveway and road. Every shadow moves and branches snap from all direction. I’m exhausted and lethargic. I can no longer feel my toes.

I hear a cackle from behind me, but don’t dare look to see what it is. I attempt to pick up my knees and take longer strides; move faster. Ice crackles up behind me and I start to run again. My arms and legs are barely moving as ice spirals down from the trees. I hear a snap and another cackle, and then something heavy hits me on the head. My skull cracks and I fall face first onto the ice. I try to push back up, but I’m shoved right back down. I turn my head to the side and skim the outlines of the trees. Death Walkers are everywhere, watching me through the forest.

I have nowhere else to go.

Chapter 24

They march me back to the house, some in front of me and some in back. They can’t understand English, or at least they pretend they can’t, because I try to reason with them as they close in on me. I even beg for my life and feel pathetic for it afterwards. They don’t want to kill me, at least not yet, which means everything I’ve been told was a lie. Nothing makes sense. No one seems trustworthy. It seems like there’s no hope left for clarification.

It takes a lot of energy to march one foot in front of the other. I’ve lost my bandage somewhere along the way and my cut has started bleeding again. My skin is pale blue and mapped with veins, and my clothes are soaked and frozen to my skin.

When we arrive at the back door of the cabin, one of the Death Walkers steps up and glides the door open even though the glass is gone. It tilts its face toward me and points its bony finger at the open doorway, motioning for me to go inside. It looks like the Reaper giving me a death omen, but I listen because backtracking means going against the rest of the herd.

The cabin is wrecked, the beams of the ceiling have collapsed, the doors are missing and there are massive holes in the walls. The furniture is shredded apart and tipped over, and the windows are in pieces on the floor. Alex and Stephan are waiting for me in the middle of the mess. Alex is sitting on the remaining piece of the couch that’s intact with his hands resting in his lap and his head hung over. Stephan is near the fireplace and he has a hole in his shirt, blood on his jean, and the Sword of Immortality in his hand.

When Stephan’s eyes find me, the greedy look in his eye promptly reappears. “Well, the guest of honor has finally arrived.”

Alex quickly raises his head up and he looks ill as he takes in my bleeding wrist and blue skin. “What happened to you?”


The scene doesn’t feel right, too formal and subdued for the circumstances. “I’m wondering the same thing about you.”

Stephan walks across the room, whistling with every step. He stops when he’s only a few feet from me and tilts his head to assess me. He isn’t much taller than I am, but he’s a lot thicker in his arms and shoulders. His cheekbones are sharp and the scar is very distinctive. “My son is no longer going to tell you anything,” he says and then calls over his shoulders. “Are you, son?”

Alex avoids eye contact with me as he nods once. “Yes, Father.” He seems younger at the moment and breakable. “It was my fault and I messed up, but I didn’t understand the situation.”

What he says aches, but so does my wound. I press my palm down onto my bleeding wrist and search the wreckage of the living room for some kind of weapon, something I can protect myself with. “What situation?” I ask, trying to stall.

“The one where you stop asking so many questions,” Stephan growls and kicks a piece of table across the room. “I try and try to do everything right, but you two have made it almost impossible.”

Alex rises from the couch. There’s a bruise on his cheek and his nose is bleeding and crooked. “I said I’m sorry. I just got confused and forgot what the purpose was.”

“Well, we’re going to fix that now,” Stephan says. “Before she gets any worse. I don’t even want to know how far you pushed her toward humanity.”

Alex glances at me and I know what he’s thinking. I wonder if he can picture it as clearly as I can; how he thrust into me, pressed himself against me, kissed me and felt me because my images are quickly fading as numbness infects me.

“What are you going to do to me?” I ask, tearing my gaze from Alex and fixing it on Stephan. “Drain me dry, kill me, lock me away in a box?”

“Gemma,” Alex says robotically with pity and it makes me want to throttle him. “I already explained to you what’s going to happen.”

I don’t look at him. “You explained a lot of things to me, which make no sense now; especially, since it’s been made clear what he did to my mother and that he’s working with them.” I aim an unsteady finger at the Death Walkers lurking near the walls. “And besides, the last time I checked, you woke me up telling me you were going to save me.”

Stephan swipes the sword around and flips the blade into the air. It comes down and he twists his arm to catch it effortlessly. “I’m impressed. I really didn’t think anyone would figure out what I did to your mother.” He gives a dramatic pause. “How on earth did you do it?”

I expect Alex to tell him about my Foreseer ability, about the visions, about my newfound mark, but he stays silent.

“Your mother needed to go,” Stephan says, pacing the length of the room. “And she went like a coward, begging me to take you instead of her. She didn’t seem to understand that the world’s fate depends on you and your inability to feel.”

I stab my nails into my palms and let the skin split open. “If the world’s fate depends on that, then why are you working with the Death Walkers?” I ask. “Because I can’t see them being in a on a plan that has anything to do with saving the world. They’re nothing but evil and they tried to kill me.”

He shakes his head. “Kill you? They were trying to protect you.”

I sink down on the couch. My skin, my jeans and my hand are soaked in blood and snow. “You can’t be buying this?” I ask Alex.

Alex shakes his head and I think I see remorse hidden deep inside his pupils. “I’m sorry, Gemma.”

Stephan stretches his hand in the air and snaps his fingers. “Bring me the memoria extracto.”

The wind kicks up and spins the air with snowflakes. A Death Walker treads through the back doorway, carrying a small black box with a red eye on the lid. It walks up to Stephan and brings a chill into the room as it hands the box to him before going back outside.

Stephan bends down and sets the sword on the ground. The light casts shadows in his eyes as he stares at the box. He cups the top with his hand and pries the lid off with a requiring tug, then dispenses it onto the floor. He reaches his fingers inside and draws out a round dark object that has a sandpaper texture.

I can’t help myself. “A rock?”

“It’s not just a rock. It’s the most magnificent thing I’ve ever discovered.” Stephan holds the rock between his fingers and squints at it. “I found it in the Wasteland, completely intact.” He tosses it in the air, turns over his hand and catches it. “It’s so much better than detaching your soul because it wipes out your entire mind. You won’t even be able to function anymore.”

Vomit burns at the back of my throat as memories of my empty past flow through me in a line of pointless events. “You can’t do that,” I whisper.

Alex sucks in a breath and his hands start to shake as he joins his father in the center of the room. “You didn’t tell me about this.”

“That’s because I can’t trust you,” Stephan says. “You prove that time and time again.”

“I said I’m sorry. I don’t… I don’t know…” he trails off. The idea of pleading with Alex seems pathetic, but I spot a small window when his gaze collides with mine. “I get confused when I’m around her.”