Chapter 5
Rain pounds against the car and flashes of lightning light up the dark sky as thunder booms in the distance. Damian is in the driver's seat, his foot flooring the gas pedal. Everett and Emmaline are smooshed together in the backseat, snoring softly while I sit in the front passenger seat, my fingers anxiously tapping along to the rain on my leg.
"You still do that when you're nervous, huh?" Damian speaks suddenly.
My hand curls into a fist and I look at him. "No. I'm not nervous." I fib, turning my head to gaze out the window.
"Liar," Damian mutters, turning the radio on with the volume low. "I've known you for a while, Avery. I can tell when you lie to me." Katy Perry sings through the speakers about the one that got away.
I tense slightly, half tempted to change the radio station. "I've changed, Damian." I say softly. "People change. You don't know me anymore."
He shakes his head. "That's not true. I still know you. You're still the same stubborn, sarcastic, wise mouth you've always been. You still hide behind the same show of strength you've had since before I met you. You're still the girl I fell in love with."
I clench my jaw, the ache in my heart returning. Flashes of memory from when he first disappeared surface, the hurt fresh in my mind. I spent days that turned into weeks that turned into months, crying and suffering from a broken heart. I rest my forehead against the cold surface of the window, the breath escaping my lips fogging up the glass.
"People . . . change." I speak slowly, keeping my voice even to mask the inner emotional rollercoaster I've boarded. "I'm different now. That show of strength is no longer a facade I wear to cover up." I insist.
"Right," Damian drawls, not believing me for a moment.
Frustration builds and I shake my head, not letting him bait me into a further disagreement. "Tell me about my mother." I sit back, pulling my knees up to my chest. "You never mentioned a mother for me. Is she . . . ?"
Damian breathes out a sigh. "Your mother," He begins, "is a special woman. Another story for another time. Your father, however, is a subject I can speak to you about. Your father's name is Bernard Thorne. He is the head councilman currently, and has been for the last century."
"Wait, what?" I interrupt, "He's over a century old? He's a hundred?"
Damian nods. "Your father is nearing a thousand years old."
"What?!" My voice raises and the two in the backseat shift. "What?" I ask again, softer. "Just how old are you then, Mr. Important. You have to be rather old for him to trust you with this mission, am I wrong?"
He clears his throat, shifting in his seat. "I'm 120."
My eyes widen and I stare at Damian. "Y-you're 120? But you don't look much older than 19!"
"Thanks," He flashes me his pearly whites, "It's part of being a vampire. After you turn of age, the aging process is slowed dramatically." Damian smooths his hair back.
I laugh incredulously. "So I'll still look like this after a century?"
He nods.
"So the humans don't ever notice the unaging people that walk among them? How does that work?"
"Well, most vampires live in rural areas to keep their identities under wraps. Though some, like myself, just make sure to move every few years. That way people don't start asking questions."
The outskirts of a city starts passing us by, the world outside a blur from the speed that Damian is driving at.
I bob my head to show my understanding.
"We'll stop at a Target or something to grab you girls some clean clothes and then at a gas station or something where we can shower, because the car is starting to smell rank."
I laugh. "Sounds like a plan."
~Time Skip~
After a quick stop at the local Target where Emmaline and I bought two complete and fresh outfits, an individual toothbrush for everyone and a tube of toothpaste to share, along with some shampoo and bar soap and a few towels, Damian had found a gas station with showers a ways out beyond the city. The four of us had taken turns scrubbing the dirt and grime from our hair, bodies and out from under our nails. Relatively sanitary, we had all piled into the car again for the last leg of the ride to the airport.
Damian bought our tickets and hours later, we boarded our plane in Virginia Beach, Virginia for a direct flight to Athens, Greece. The eleven hour flight was spent interrogating Damian and Everett about other details concerning the war, the supernaturals, and their personal lives.
As of right now, we're unboarding the plane. Everett and Emmaline walk ahead of Damian and I, bickering among themselves. Emmaline gestures animatedly to make her point in the argument while Everett shakes his head and waves her words away.
Damian nudges me with his shoulder. "How you holding up, little one?"
I shrug and hike the backpack up higher, adjusting the straps. The backpack contains the essentials Emmaline and I brought with us from Damian's car; spare clothes for the both of us, what little money we have left from the Target trip, our tickets, our toothbrushes, and our passports which Damian had already set up for us. Damian carries a similar backpack with the essentials for Everett and himself. "I'm holding up alright. I'm just glad Emmaline has been handling this better." I shudder, thinking back to 48 hours ago when I had watched her carve her arm open with a paring knife.
Damian nods, watching the two of them. We follow behind them as they head out of the terminal towards the baggage claim. "I think that having Everett with us is a contributing factor as to why she is adjusting to this new life so well. He loves her already."
I observe the two of them thoughtfully, noting how comfortable Emmaline is with him. "She's warming up to him."
"How can you tell?" Damian smiles.
"The same way you can tell your friend already loves her; I've known Emmaline since third grade. I know her and how she would behave if she wasn't comfortable with him. But did you see that? Her shoving him playfully, that means she likes him but won't admit it."
Damian chuckles. "How observative of you, Sherlock."
I smirk slightly. "If you were paying closer attention, you'd have noticed me warming up to you as well, Watson."
Damian lifts a brow. "And what is that suppose to mean?"
I shrug. "Now that I know the circumstances of why you left and how this war plays such a big role in our past, present and future, I feel less angry towards you. I hated you when you just left without any explanation."
He winces. "Avery, I-"
I shake my head. "It's fine. I'm just telling you that there's less anger and hurt now. I feel like I can trust you completely."
"Does this mean you'll consider giving me another chance?" He asks hopefully.
I tilt my head and glance over at him. "Yes," I say after a moment. "But you'll have to work for it. I'm not just going to take you back with open arms."
Damian protests, "You just said that there's less hurt and ange-"
I hold my hand up, "There is less hurt and anger. But the hurt and anger I felt when I first realized the guy I loved had abandoned me, that is something that you need to prove won't happen again before I put my heart on the line for you again. Yeah?"
Damian considers my words and nods.
"And when I am ready to open up to you like that again, we will be taking baby steps. Not lunging leaps. Baby steps."
Damian laughs, grabbing my hand and intertwining my fingers with his.
I stare at him, "What are you doing?"
"Baby steps, little one." He winks and lifts our hands to press a kiss to the back of my hand. "Baby steps."
