Egbert

Hurricane Picnic

It's been a day, I think- or maybe an hour. No, that's wrong. We came back here and Vikram was sent straight home. I haven't heard from him since. I've definitely missed my flight to St. Ambrogio's. The hunter's haven't come after us and Sebastian has been on the phone ever since we came back. He told me to go to bed and I've done so, I'm exhausted. Maybe listening to the half brother who caused the death of my father isn't the wisest thing to do right now but there's not better alternative coming to mind. Sleep is long and uneasy, the kind that seems more like a punishment than anything else. I keep seeing my father, slumped against the cage. And then his body morphs, into Mrs Iqbal, Penny, Pedro he even starts to morph into some people I don't even know. But if I don't know them then why are their eyes staring at me like that. Wide and unblinking, trying to tell me something I don't understand. When his body starts to morph into Scarlett's, that's when I wake up, drenched in sweat.

Getting up and moving around seems like the best course of action. Weak sunlight drifts through the halls. It's dead silent, except for the sound of clinking coming from the front porch. The front door is wide open, displaying mother sitting on in the middle of the huge white steps. She's dressed from head to toe in black, mourning gloves and hat included. Black sunglasses cover half her face and red rimmed eyes no doubt.

When she senses me behind her she pats the space next to her for me to sit. She pours me a glass of whisky to match hers from the vial and glasses next to her- brought from my father's study- and holds it up in a silent toast. I follow suit, managing to take only a sip of the drink before coughing violently as it burns my throat.

"Cherish the pain Egbert. It means you're alive."

"Is that a good thing?" I mutter.

"No. But it's necessary." She doesn't seem too impressed by my scoff so I mask it with a cough. The dawn paints the sky shades of blue and amber, covering the empty street. No one's awake except for a few birds. How am I supposed to feel? Father was a monster, but he was my sire. I did care about him in the end, I must have. Not feeling sad about the death of my father would make me an unfeeling monster. I'd be as bad as he was.

We sit in silence for a little while longer and I brave another nip of the whisky. The companionable silence was nice but it's time to move forward.

"You're leaving." I put my near full glass down and wait for her to refute it but I know the look in her eyes, even if they're protected by tint.

"I am. You're free. You may stay here if you wish or travel. It's up to you. You could still go to-"

"I'm staying here. And the hunters?"

"Taken care of. Not dead, don't worry about that. You're little hunter girlfriend is still alive. It's a shame though."

I choose to ignore the derision. "She betrayed me. Can't exactly call her my girlfriend now."

"Not about that. She killed your father. You're bound to each other now."

I must have misheard. Bound to hate each other perhaps.

"I really taught you poorly," she sighs when she sees the confusion etched on my face. "Sanguinem iugum vindicta. You must kill her now, every time you let her go the urge to kill her will get stronger until eventually it consumes you. A terrible end to a first love. Though, I suppose, it is romantic in its own way." I can feel the ringing in my ears grow stronger but mother keeps talking over it, she's either oblivious to my turmoil or ignoring it "I suppose that's why Sebastian had the hunters kill Vladimir. So you wouldn't have to kill him."

I don't want to process this information right now. I've had a long day and I'm too overwhelmed so I'll file it away under things to stress about later. I swallow it down with the rising bile.