The Count Sister - RE-WRITING

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Six

Lamia pulled up and slowly lifted the handbrake onto lock. She sat there for a moment. Replaying that night; it was unbearable but to relive the moment that she felt her prodigy’s pain; unspeakable. Gwin had cried, fought, even broke several objects in their house until Lamia had finally commanded her to calm down. She had had no other choice; it had been the only way to control Gwin. She was still new to all this; regardless of Quinn’s death, Gwin was still a newly made vampire, still an amateur.

   She looked in the rear-view mirror and saw Gwin staring out the side window, not at anything in particular, just looking. Aubrey was beside Gwin, holding her hand, she noticed. Armanthia was the first to step out of the car. Lamia directed her gaze towards the open door, she opened her mouth to speak but it was closed before she could even inhale.

  She unbuckled her seatbelt with shaking hands, and reached for the handle. The back doors were opened next, and closed quickly behind them. Lamia inhaled and exhaled, but she couldn’t stop the quiver of her lips. She wiped at her eyes furiously with her knitted sleeve; the fabric rough against her skin. “Come on Lamia,” She breathed again, angrier than before. “You can do this, for your sisters…get out the car.”  She opened it.

  Everyone was looking at them. She held tightly onto the door frame and watched. Some were whispering others just glanced their way as they passed by through the gates. “How can everyone know so quickly?” Gwin asked. Her voice was hoarse, just like the rest of theirs. The crying had completely drained them, mentally and physically but Lamia would be damned if she was missing the last day because of it. Quintessa wouldn’t like that; she was always the school nerd. Never missed a day; until now. “How can everyone just…know…?”

“Come on,” Lamia insisted as she saw the Master Brothers leaning against the wall. They were all there, aside from Alex; but for some reason she felt him near.

  She reached a hand to her chest and clung onto her jumper, the sisters made their way towards the gates but Lamia simply stopped. More people passed her, more people stared but there was one stare in particular that she returned. Alex was there. He was leaning against the trees on the far side of the parking lot, the shade was covering him, but she could make out his figure. He pushed off with his right foot and stepped into the sun. You can do this, I know you can. For Quinn.

  She smiled, and he gladly returned it. “For Quinn”

No one spoke at lunch. Luka was still ignoring Armanthia; he couldn’t believe how stupid she had been to do that. He had felt deep down that he shouldn’t leave that room and yet her eyes had pleaded with him. Luka had always found it hard to say no to her, ever since they had been kids. That trust, that loyalty had gone straight out the window when she had cut deep into her own skin to release her deepest pain.

  As much as he disliked what she did, he could think of nothing but envy. He wished, deep down, that he could feel that kind of pain. His sister, Skyler, had died the day he was born; his mother had told him that she came up with the name Luka. The woman that named him, his older sister, was dead. He didn’t get to feel her loss because in truth she was lost before he even knew she existed.

  Luka had seen pictures of her, but never knew her voice, or how she smelled. By the time he had a reached an age to understand what death even was; her belongings had gone. They had either decayed, vanished or were buried. He was glad about one thing; at least they had a body to bury. The brother’s; they didn’t even come close to that.

  Gwin was staring off into the far side of the dining hall. Luka turned in his seat and saw Amanda, Peter and Charlotte enter; they didn’t make any effort to approach. They sat the furthest away he noted.

  Jake was already at their table, he could sense his hand in Armanthia’s; it was under the table but he knew. He wished he could say he was happy but he wasn’t. He loved her. Deep down, under his playboy attitude and his playful hate, he loved Armanthia and now she had turned away from that. He couldn’t blame her; he had been with enough women as it was; she had every right to look elsewhere but he still ached.

  The bell rung; it was a loud and deafening screech. Nearly all of them jumped from the noise, well all except Jake. He could sense the kind of tranquility he was carrying on him; like some sort of drug. It was like it was passing from his body and straight into Armanthia’s. After a while of tensing and a guarded posture, she settled against his shoulder. No one spoke; again. They all got up and walked separate ways, as if they no longer knew each other. Somehow they had ended up drawing apart; though he knew the sisters had a good reason too. But, he couldn’t say he knew how it felt; he had been too young to mourn over his mother, and not even born to cry over the loss of Skyler.

  He stood up from the table, and reached for his bag. As he leant down he noticed Jake’s hand caressing Armanthia’s leg. He stood up blushing; funny thing to admit but he did. He turned away and walked slowly catching their slow, yet intimate conversation.

“Did you mean what you said last night?” Armanthia asked. “That you’re here when I need you?”

“You know I did…” He whispered back.

  He didn’t look but he heard the soft meeting of lips. She had kissed him first; he stopped at the door and risked a quick glance back. He didn’t want too, by god he knew it would hurt but he just had to see. He had to know that if he left her, whether it be in death or just alone that she would be okay, that she could manage and pull through this just like she had years ago.

  “I really need you…” She croaked. “I don’t know why, I just…don’t leave me alone. Will you come with me…to the…funeral?”

  Luka watched as he smoothed her hair from her face, just like her had done earlier that morning. “I won’t ever, ever leave your side. I promise you.” They kissed again. Luka had no control over the smile that stretched across his lips.