A/N: Here it is, you guys! :D Chapter 13! Whoo ;) Thanks for reading, and enjoy! <3
Chapter 13: Annabelle
I felt him. The magnetic pull of the Mark to Henri was painfully hard to ignore. It was especially difficult when the vampire was on the other side of my door.
'Antoinette.'
I groaned at the sound of his voice in my head. I should ignore him, I should-
'You do know I can hear that, right?' he told me, a smug tone entering his already smooth voice.
I frowned and leaned my head against the door, the only object that stood between us. The Mark pleaded for me to embrace Henri, to love and forgive him.
It wasn't that easy. I just wanted it to stop and shut up for good. Since I still had no way of escaping the bond, I could only hope he would leave me alone for good. Sadly, his presence didn't leave the apartment hallway, and he wouldn't leave without talking to me first, I assumed that much. If he wanted to apologize, I was short on patience, and my listening skills were in short supply tonight.
'Toni, please open the door,' he pleaded softly. He hadn't yet spoken out loud, and I vaguely wondered if he feared that Ethan would hear him.
'No,' I shot back mentally. I earned a load of silence before there was a soft, gentle knock on the door I had my back and head leaning against.
Damn it.
'I just want to talk.'
Slowly, quietly, I got to my feet, and opened the door a few centimeters. Henri took up most of the space, the tall, lanky vampire looking, well, exhausted. He didn't smile at me or flash his fangs. His dark hair was disheveled, and his black eyes were deep soulful. The Mark gave a whisper to desire, but I instantly squashed it.
No time for that...
When he stayed silent, I frowned even more, debating whether or not to slam the door in his face. I'd told myself I never wanted to see him again, and yet... I was hesitating.
"What do you want?" I asked softly.
Henri shook his head, and with our telepathic link, he replied. 'Your hunter friend... '
I sighed, and said a little softer. "Ethan isn't here."
Henri nodded stiffly. "I came to apologize."
"Yeah, I figured," I muttered. "Henri, I know what you felt for Giselle when she kissed you. It was... " My voice broke in desperation. I hated myself for feeling jealous of a vampire, even one as mean and slutty - don't forget drop dead gorgeous - as Giselle Beauregard. Micah had unknowingly failed in helping with the sheer brokenness of my heart.
"It doesn't matter," Henri replied firmly. "Giselle doesn't matter. This is between you and me."
I opened the door a little wider, and caught a glimpse of the Sinclair family ring on his finger once more. The stone glinted ominously. I promptly bit my lip. "You have a minute. Just a minute to explain yourself."
"Toni-" he started, but I wasn't about to take shit. "A minute, that's it. Use your time wisely."
Henri frowned at me, black eyes drawn downward. He wouldn't meet my gaze. "Antoinette, she kissed me, not vice versa," he admitted through clenched teeth. "Giselle knew that, by kissing me, she'd piss you off and get under your skin." He shook his head. "I would never deliberately hurt you like that. I'm sorry."
I wanted to believe him, I really did. Something was off; something important.
"So, if she kissed you just to make me jealous, then why did you feel passion toward her?"
Henri's eyes narrowed, and he finally met my gaze. "She's my sire, Antoinette. She Marked me before I became a vampire."
"So, what, you're still connected to her?" I questioned, brow furrowed. "Does the Mark even last that long?"
"Depending on the attraction between sire and the sired," he explained softly, almost sadly. He regretted his love toward Giselle, I realized.
"Anyway, Giselle kept me under her spell long after she turned me. I never loved another until you."
I had to look away now. I could easily be compelled into believing Henri's story. Plus, his words had struck a cord in my aching heart. Henri could be so romantic... Crap! Don't lose focus!
I sighed. "So, the kiss was all her doing, and the emotions were an instant reaction due to your bond with her?" I'd made it all sound negative. Henri thought so, too. "That's not what I'm trying to-"
"Forget it, Henri, I'm done listening," I announced, pushing the door until all I could see were his eyes. "Your time is up. Goodbye." Then, I slammed the door in his face. His presence left, and I could breathe again. I leaned my head against the locked door, and started to sob uncontrollably. It was one of the only times I'd lost control of the tears.
I hated it.
The Mark was confusing me so much, playing with my very emotions constantly. I had to learn more about it. So I could be rid of it someday. That would stop the pain that kept driving itself into my body and heart every single time I thought of Henri Sinclair.
***
"Wanna tell me where we're going, or are you just going to leave me in the dark?" I asked Ethan the next morning as he pulled me from my room and down out into the early sunlight.
Being the middle of November, it was getting relatively colder in Manhattan, so I was actually thankful for the long-sleeved hunter uniform that I had on. Ethan's was a mirror of my own, and he looked downright... sexy in it.
My friend took me to where the Mustang was parked. Instead of being overjoyed at the sight of it, I felt a little depressed. The Mustang had been a present from Henri...
"Since you never tell me about your missions, I don't feel like telling you mine," Ethan retorted mysteriously as he slid into the driver seat. I gave him a pointed look as I took shot gun, albeit reluctantly. "It's not my fault that I take the extremely dangerous missions!"
Ethan only snorted. "Right. Well, where we're going is a surprise."
"Is it a birthday present?"
Ethan frowned a bit. "Nope. Better." What could be better than that? My parents back from the dead? My sister human again?
"You're not just saying that?" I asked slowly, eyes going narrow.
Ethan laughed as he started the car. "I'm totally just saying that, Drake, you know me."
"I do, I really do," I murmured with a smile in agreement. The Mustang started for downtown, but we were heading east instead of north. Hmm. So, we weren't going to the Agency...
"Where are we going?" I asked, looking around at the street signs to get a hint as to where we were heading. We were moving farther from New York City, and closer to...
No.
I gave Ethan a suspicious glance as he continued to steer. "Ethan, why are we going to Brooklyn?"
All he did was grin at me. I didn't know how to feel about this, and I had a feeling this mission - if I could even call it that - had nothing to do with the hunters or the Agency.
It was a family trip. No, not my family.
Ethan's.
Let me tell you a bit of background on my best friend. He's been a hunter as long as I have, and his Mom was great friends with my parents before they died. Ethan didn't have such a perfect family, however... although he tried to pretend that it was. He ignored the fact that his Dad, a freaking necromancer, had mysteriously disappeared two years after Ethan and his sister were born. Yeah, Ethan had a sister. Her name was Annabelle, and she was still around.
She'd ignored the call to become a hunter due to the fact that she'd acquired her Father's, um, gift. I guess that's what it was... in her eyes, anyway. A short time after Ethan and I became true hunters, and had gained official status and gratification, my friend's family had been destroyed. Or at least wrecked beyond repair. Ethan's Mom had died at the hands of a vampire; one who'd been staked with vengeance in mind. She'd died doing her job, her duty. I know Ethan still missed her.
Annabelle cut herself off from her brother, and she now lived in Brooklyn, right across the famed bridge. She was apparently studying art history at the private Pratt Institute, according to Ethan. The two siblings barely kept in touch these days, and it made me uneasy to know why I was going into this situation with Ethan.
Why would he bring me along to travel to Brooklyn? Especially if this was all to see Annabelle...
Looks like I was about to find out.
Pratt Institute wasn't far from the Brooklyn Bridge, and we arrived in no time at all. Well, Ethan could be a speed demon when he wanted to be, especially in my fiery-engine Mustang.
The closed-off campus was covered in color-changed leaves, scurrying art majors, and speedy professors heading to their classes and lectures. The fallen leaves of autumn crunched under my boots as we made our way to what must've been the main building. Ethan knew where to go - apparently - so I tried to take it all in. I hadn't really left Manhattan to go to Brooklyn in a pretty long time. Maybe five years.
Why would a practicing necromancer study art history?
A mystery for another time, I guess.
My friend entered one of the buildings, and I followed silently. The inside of the building we entered was covered in mud-brown stone, and gray-colored tile. There were classrooms on either side, and when Ethan arrived at the door he'd been looking for, he stopped and glanced my way. I bit my lip in thought as Ethan turned to look back into the window. Annabelle must've been inside that classroom...
Suddenly, Ethan opened the door and walked through, leaving me in shock. I had no time to protest; he left me out in the seemingly empty hallway.
To distract myself - since I had no desire to follow Ethan into Annabelle's class - I focused on the artifacts found on the shelf beside the classroom door. They looked handmade, and I ended up with the conclusion that they were, indeed, crafts.
A typical sight in an artsy university.
I sighed to myself as I looked at them; some objects were made of glass - glossy ceramic, of course - and some were most likely made of wood. I was almost afraid to touch them; they looked so fragile...
One caught my attention almost instantly: it looked like an actual skull, but it must've been made of glass or something of the like. In place of the eyes laid pearls the size of golf balls, and they didn't look fake at all. Mesmerized by the detail of the artwork, I dumbly reached out to touch it.
"Hey!" a voice called out to me in alarm. A girl a little older than me stood there. She had long brown hair that had been straightened to the max. Her heavy mascara-rimmed ice-blue eyes glared into me as she looked from the object in my hands to my face.
Those signature blue eyes told me everything I needed to know about her.
Annabelle Frazer.
Ethan's sister pursed her blood red lips at me. "I wouldn't touch that if I were you. It might be cursed."
I had no idea if she was kidding or not, but I backed away regardless. The twenty-something necromancer uncrossed her arms and looked over her shoulder, her blue eyes going a little confused at the sight of me.
Ethan appeared not long after, a smile printed on his face. I cocked an eyebrow at my friend, then shifted my gaze to Annabelle. She shook her head at me, her eyes reflecting confusion. "I'm sorry, have we met? Are you here with Ethan?"
"'Belle, this is Toni, remember?" Ethan spoke for me, putting a hand on his sister's shoulder. Annabelle looked me in the eye as she tried to remember, and I realized that she looked a lot like her Mom, when she'd been around, that is. The young necromancer wore black tights and a simple black T-shirt. On her feet were ankle-high boots with about an inch of heel. Even without the heel, she'd be a lot taller than Ethan.
I flashed her a friendly smile. "Hey, Annabelle."
"I do remember you now," Annabelle replied, putting a black nail to her chin. "Toni Drake, right?"
I nodded firmly, earning a wide smile... and a tight hug from Ethan's older sister. "It's been a while," she admitted softly, her hands clutching at my shoulders. "I haven't seen you since... since I had to babysit you, Liz, and Ethan."
I physically winced at the mention of my sister. Annabelle didn't know she was a vampire now.
Ethan cleared his throat, and his sister pulled away from me reluctantly, giving me a sly smile. "You and Ethan were quite the childhood sweethearts."
"'Belle!" Ethan started, but Annabelle only shrugged in response. "You pulled me out of my two-hour class. You owe me some embarrassing recollections." She laughed and gently touched the skull. It looked so breakable, but apparently it wasn't. The necromancer lifted the skull for me to see. "You like it? Made it myself."
Ethan huffed, unimpressed. "I thought you were taking art history."
"My professor assigned us the task of making our own spin of a replica of a historic or legendary symbol," Annabelle explained thoughtfully, her eyes solely on the artwork in her hand. "I decided, since I'm a necromancer, to do the famous skull from Shakespeare's Hamlet."
I smiled faintly at the skull. "And the pearls?"
Annabelle shrugged. "I thought it'd be wicked to add pearls where the eyes should be." She shook her head suddenly, and looked over at her little brother. "Wanna tell me why you're here again?"
"'Belle," Ethan started slowly, unsure, and with a nod from his sister, he continued. "There have been deaths in our sector and-"
"I thought I told you I don't deal with hunter drama anymore," she snapped at him, a little angrily. The necromancer set the skull back on its pedestal, and rested her hands rebelliously on her hips, made definite from her attire.
"But-"
"No!" she held her hand up. "I refuse to help if that's all you're here for." Under her breath, she muttered. "And here I thought we were just going to have a nice family reunion."
Ethan frowned. "What if it isn't hunter business but vampire business?"
Annabelle laughed bitterly. "What makes you think I know anything about vampires? Specifically the Manhattan clan. It's not like I-"
"You deal with the dead, don't you?" Ethan offered with a small smile, hope in his light blue eyes.
"The dead, sure. But the undead? Way outta my ballpark."
I frowned along with Ethan this time around. So that was why Ethan had taken me to meet with Annabelle...
"You said it was important, E, but I can't help you," the necro sighed. "I'm sorry."
"Do you know anyone that can?"
Annabelle shrugged again. "The Brooklyn sector might-"
"Uh, no," Ethan instantly shot down on my account. "The hunters in this sector have a score to settle with Toni. I don't think talking with them is a good idea, 'Belle."
Ethan's sister nodded in understanding. "Hunters and their grudges." She met my eyes next. "I'm assuming you did something to piss them off?"
I nodded, and she kindly left it at that. No use in bringing up the past. Especially when I didn't want to...
"There are some vampires here that can probably help you, but I'm guessing that you want nothing to do with those bloodsuckers." Annabelle looked at the classroom she'd been in mere minutes ago, then back at us. She shrugged her bony shoulders. "I'll tell you what I've heard from the local witches, if that'll help in some way. It may or may not be true but... "
Ethan and I looked at each other. This might be promising.
"There are rumors going around that the lead vampire of the Manhattan clan is searching for something; something only a witch can find," Annabelle said, her eyes now on the shiny skull that sat on display.
"Do you know what he's looking for?" Ethan asked his sister while I remained in silent shock.
My uncle was searching for something? What could it possibly be?
Annabelle closed her eyes for a heartbeat, contemplating her next words, it seemed. "The witches think he's after a cure."
"A cure?" I echoed, my jaw hung low. I couldn't believe it... there was a cure to vampirism?!
"What do you mean, a cure?" Ethan demanded, almost as shocked at I was. I couldn't even begin to wonder why my uncle would want to be cured... oh, wait. I could. Robert Drake might've been a fearful master vampire, and he was great at what he did as a vicious bloodsucker, but he hadn't chosen to become one in the first place. He wanted out, I deduced. This supposed cure could be his only way out of being a vampire and becoming human again.
My heart pounded loudly in my ears. "Is there a cure?" I asked. Annabelle sighed, pushing the straight brown strands from her small, pale face. "That's what the witches, not to mention the vampires here in Brooklyn, are trying to figure out." I bit my lip as she continued. "If there is in fact a cure, every vampire will want to get their hands on it, which could easily lead to chaos."
"Have the witches found anything?" Ethan asked, and Annabelle shook her head slowly. "Sadly, nothing yet. But they'll keep searching. Right now, there's supposedly a grimoire - a book of spells - that belonged to the witch who originally created vampirism, as well as lycanthropy. It's out there, and the supernatural community is hunting for it." Ethan's sister gave us a small smile. "I wish I knew more, but that's it."
"It might be a bunch of rumors, but it's a start," Ethan replied, his bright blue eyes narrow as can be. He turned to me, then looked at Annabelle. "The original witch; the one who supposedly made the supernatural beings we see today... who was she?"
The necromancer shrugged. "I told you, that's all I have to offer you two. I really wish I knew more. Then I could be more help." She hung her head, and Ethan took her shoulders, a comforting gesture. "It's alright. Your contribution really helped just now. We can start finding the reason why there've been so many killings in Manhattan lately."
I could've spoken up and told him that my vampire uncle was murdering innocent people because of me instead of some rumored cure, but I held back. How would Ethan react if he discovered that the master vampire Annabelle had been discussing was family?
Probably not well.
Annabelle and Ethan exchanged goodbyes, since it was obviously time to go. We'd overstayed our welcome at Pratt Institute. Ethan and I waved some small waves as she headed back to class. On the way to the Mustang, I gave Ethan a hard look. "So, why did you really bring me today? You could've gone on your own, you know."
Ethan chuckled at my expression. "Sorry I couldn't tell you about visiting Annabelle. I knew you'd be mad."
"Do you really think there's a cure?" I asked in all honestly, already anticipating Ethan's answer. The boy only shrugged. "There's no way to tell. I mean, I'm sure there is a grimoire that belonged to the original witch who started all this supernatural business." We got into my car and headed back across the Brooklyn Bridge, leaving Annabelle and Pratt Institute behind.
When we arrived back in Manhattan, at our own apartment complex, I thought about the possibility of a cure. Vampirism was a curse; therefore, it had a cure to counter balance everything. Only problem was, who was the witch, and what would her grimoire tell us? Better yet, where would we even find such a book?
The answer: the Manhattan Archives.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed chapter 13! Things are starting to get interesting, aren't they? What'd you think of Ethan's big sister, huh? :P Vote + comment if you enjoyed ;) I love, love, LOVE comments! ^_^ Last but not least, a note on Pratt Institute... funny story: I applied there for college this past year! I was actually thinking of attending the private Brooklyn art school :D Of course, that didn't happen but it still makes for a great part of my story ;) Thanks for reading, and I'll see you all next time! <3
Picture: Pratt Institute, located in Brooklyn, New York :D
Song: Ghost Town by Shiny Toy Guns
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~ Fangs & Kisses ~