Red Dyed Eyes (Dead Blood Series: Book 1)

Chapter 10

 Ivy looked at her sister with sad curiosity. "What happened with you and our parents?"

 Kat gave her a look that said she dreaded what she was about to say. "Well on my first hunt I was attacked by Elizabeth. At first she only sucked my blood but when I fought back she must have turned me because the very next day I began to feel my body begin to adapt." Kat paused as if she didn't want to continue. "I was only seven and I was already hiding everything about me because of what I was. I quickly developed my power, and before I knew it I could do anything. Honestly I really wanted to tell them but I knew that would be suicide if I did, so I hid my red eyes. One day I was practicing moving more than one object at a time and mother walked in. Her face drained of color but she just stood there and looked at me. I begged her not to tell anyone but two days later father tried to kill me in my sleep." Ivy gasped and anger invaded her mind. "I barely escaped with my life and I ran to the woods.  That's when Elizabeth took me in. She cared for me just like mom and dad had, and with all the others in the house, I felt accepted."

 Ivy was sad and outraged.  How could they do that to their only daughter? When she thought about it she realized it wasn't that surprising.  They had nearly done the same thing to her. Ivy leaned over and hugged Kat, knowing how it felt to be nearly killed by her own family. When they pulled apart Kat offered to walk Ivy back to her room but Ivy decided against it. She wanted to see if she could find her way around the house without anyone's help. She walked down the labyrinth of hallways, making too many wrong turns to count.  Eventually Ivy attempted to retrace her steps back to the living room. After more turning she made it, and she looked for people but it was a ghost town at this point.

 Slightly discouraged, she plopped down on one of the many old gray couches, gazing into the fire. The fireplace still held a few embers and crackling logs that invited her into the room. Yawning, she got up to check the windows, seeing the beautiful moon light begin to dip below the horizon. She gazed for only a moment more and pulled the heavy black curtains over the delicate glass. Coming back to the couch she had chosen, she pulled off her jacket and bunched it up like a makeshift pillow. Laying down, she drifted off to sleep by the fire's dying embers.

•••

 Ivy woke to the sound of feet creaking against old wood floors as people made their way quietly through the room. She sat up as a woven blanket fell off her shoulders. Someone must have put it on her while she was sleeping. Rubbing her eyes, she noticed the same person must have taken her glasses off.  Reaching around for them, she slid them on her face. Looking around she saw that someone had also relit the fire, but the room was currently empty. Standing, Ivy listened for the person that woke her. A small creak came from behind a door that Ivy had not noticed before. Standing, she made her way towards it and sleepily turned the handle.

 She was standing in a huge grayish-blue room that was lined with large and ancient portraits hanging in uniform lines. The only other thing in the room was a dark oak table that stretched nearly the length of the room and matching dark oak chairs that curled with artistic precision, circling the long table. It was completely empty, but upon examining the room one more time she saw yet another door across the room. She moved across the room and pushed the swinging door open. This door revealed a large kitchen with a black and white checked floor, a single bookshelf filled with assorted spices and cookbooks, along with dark cabinets and black appliances that lined the walls.

 Looking around yet another new room, she saw Andy pouring two bowls of cereal. He didn't seem to notice her come in. He was wearing his pajamas: a loose pair of green plaid pj bottoms and the same tight black tee shirt he wore the other night. She tiptoed up next to him and suddenly slammed her hand on the counter. Andy jumped and dropped the carton of milk he had been holding. He put his hand on his chest and took a deep breath.