The Last of the Pure

Twenty-eight

I don't know how happy I am with the first part of this. I knew what I wanted to do, but I wasn't sure how I wanted to write it. Hopefully it's all right. 

:/

-M

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“We’re staying here?”

Lonnie’s chin was practically scraping the floor in the backseat of the rental car Sam was driving. I could feel my jaw going slack as well when we pulled through the wrought-iron gates that exposed a long, curving driveway leading up to a mansion three times the size of the one I’d been staying at.

“It’s not a castle,” Samuel chuckled, sending his smile over his shoulder to Lonnie. “And yes, people like us live here.”

“I don’t know how you put up with that,” Lonnie mumbled under her breath, raising her eyebrows at me in the rearview mirror before clearing her throat and adding a bit louder, “What is this place?”

“It’s the home the originals built for themselves,” Samuel told her, finally pulling up to the front of the structure and putting the car in park. “Andrew and Pallas had it built so they and all of their descendants would always have a place to stay when they came home.”

“Home, sweet, castle,” she mumbled again.

Lonnie sat forward in the seat as Samuel shut off the car, waiting until he’d stepped out of the car before she poked me in the arm. She sent me a worried look when my eyes met hers and I put on a big, fake smile that made her crease her eyebrows in worry.

“What’s going on, Noodle?” she asked quietly, resting her hand on my shoulder. “You’ve barely said a word since we left Glen Rose.”

“Just tired,” I shrugged. I unbuckled my seatbelt and opened my door, sending my aunt one last smile in attempt to reassure her before stepping out of the car and stretching my arms above my head.

Sam had all of our bags lined up by the back bumper by the time Lonnie shut her door and stretched the way I did.

“Do they even know we’re coming?” Lonnie asked, staring at the mansion with a bit of a grimace.

“They always know,” Samuel said with a tiny laugh.

As soon as the words left his mouth, the front door opened and a girl about my age stood in the entry, her arms held out in front of her with a wide grin on her beautiful face.

“Samuel,” she sighed, making her way down the porch, her navy blue dress flowing above her black tights just above her knees. She was beautiful and picturesque. Her hair was curled to perfection, hitting the middle of her back and shining dark and brown like she’d just stepped out of an Herbal Essence commercial.

She hugged him around the shoulders, giving him no time to respond before she turned to me, cupping my chin in her fingers and giving me a soft smile.

“You’re just as beautiful as your mother, Alexandra,” she told me, her hand dropping to rest on my shoulder. “You’d do well to put those dark thoughts out of your head and focus on the beautiful city around you, my dear. You’re practically drowning in gloom.”

She gave me a penetrating look with her dark brown eyes and I felt myself flush under her scrutiny.

“Amintha,” Sam said, coming to stand beside me. “Alexandra goes by Nora now.”

She looked at him, giving him a wide smile before turning back to me. Her smile didn’t fade as she looked back and forth between the two of us once again.