Lazarus

24

The next day we spent mostly in bed or traveling around. Lazarus finally showed me the playground he and Stella vandalized as well as a few other spots they hung around. We left pretty quickly after the funeral. 

We only spent three days there, and I felt it was too long. Lazarus and I had packed our stuff in the morning while we prepared to say goodbye to the dead king of war. I wore a pair of jeans and a casual t-shirt only because my coat was black, so I had something to represent the false mourning I felt. Belladonna didn't even stay for the funeral. According to Stella, she got a chance to say goodbye to his ashes, instead of crying and mourning she spit on his urn, and said I quote 'go fuck yourself, I hope you burn in hell you abusive piece of shit.' Then she was driven to Italy where she was from until she was forced to marry Darius. 

The ceremony was quick. The man who led the ceremony spoke a few forced positive words before Darius's family members placed his urn into the ground. Nobody stayed at the burial site long after that. Stella, Franklin, Lazarus and I drove back to the castle, where we then grabbed our packed up suitcases and carried them down to the car. We didn't bother to clean our bedroom. We knew we would never come back so it didn't matter. We didn't stay in the castle long after that either, instead, Franklin drove all of us to Lazarus's parent's house where I saw his mother again, and met his pretty silent father. His parents looked no older than 30 which was weird because they were quite old according to their children.

Lazarus's father was as tall as Lazarus, with deep brown hair, and with burgundy eyes. He wore a simple pair of jeans and a casual t-shirt. He didn't speak to me at all, he acknowledged me with a quick nod, but that was the extent of our conversation.

We stayed for tea and talked about the future, I apologized to Anna, I mean mamma, for my outburst, which she gladly accepted my apology.

We expected to drive out of the town, but instead, we ended up at a small house with a beautiful porch with a garden surrounding it.

"Where are we?" Lazarus questioned.

"We are home," Franklin replied simply.

"No, we aren't," Lazarus's jaw clenched, Stella gave him a pointed look. 

"Lazarus," Stella spoke up. 

"We are not staying here," Lazarus snapped, Stella flinched but she didn't say anything. 

"I decided to stay," she argued. 

"What why?" I asked. 

"Franklin," Stella replied simply. 

"You have known him for less than a week, how can you decide to stay with him?" Lazarus asked. 

"I just feel in my gut is right," she shrugged. 

"Well, how are Ellie and I going to get home?" 

"I'll drive you," Franklin replied gruffly. He glared daggers at Lazarus through the rear-view mirror. 

"Fine," Lazarus snapped as he threw his hands up in defeat. 

Stella flashed me a tight smile before she exited the car, she pulled her suitcases out of the trunk before she carried them to the front door of the small house. 

"You better take good care of her, or I will come back here and kill you," Lazarus growled. Franklin dismissed him with a wave of his hand. We all watched as Stella unlocked the front door with a pair of keys before carefully placing the suitcases inside. She closed the door, locked it, and double-checked before she came back to the car. Once inside she pecked Franklin on the cheek, he gave her a small smile before he backed out of the driveway to take us home. 

Like the ride to Azgar, I slept most of the way. I only woke up when we stopped to get a bite to eat which happened to be a rabbit Franklin caught for me, Lazarus was not happy at someone else providing for me, but Franklin could shift and catch small animals easier than a vampire. When nighttime fell upon us, we rented another room at a motel, the same one we stayed in previously. This time I slept better knowing Darius was not lingering around. I may have slept better, but I didn't sleep as long because Lazarus couldn't keep his hands to himself. I didn't mind it much until I had to sleep in a wet spot that ended up becoming cold. 

The morning was pretty much torture. I had no time to eat or shower I was just yanked out of bed and thrown into the car for another few hours. I hated all the driving. 

I fell asleep again for the rest of the drive which was great for me. I was never bored. I mostly dreamed of my grandmother, the one who had taken care of me. She had the same honeysuckle scent I remembered and the high pitched voice that rang through the house like church bells. I dreamt we were at my old house, the last one we had together. She was seated beside me on my old bed that was covered in white sheets. The room was still that sickly lavender colour. 

"I like him," she told me.

"Who Nana?" I looked at her confused, she just smiled at me, and brushed a piece of hair behind my ear, like she always did.

"Your husband."

"Oh."

"I think you two are perfect for each other, even though now I'll never see you here," she spoke in a soothing voice, I leaned into her side and breathed in honeysuckle.

"It is time to wake up cara," she smiled. Cara? That was something Lazarus always called me. I was about to ask her what it meant, but the room started to shake. I went to ask Nana what was going on, but she was no longer there. 

"Cara," I heard the voice again. 

"Nana," I mumbled. 

"Careful," I heard a woman speak, it sounded familiar. I felt myself start to float, I wanted to flail my body so I would be back on the bed, but I couldn't move. 

I kept hearing the same voices as I stayed in my dream state. Nana was no longer with me, although her honeysuckle scent stuck with me. The room kept shaking, and I was still floating off the bed.

After what seemed like forever, the room stopped shaking, I stopped hearing voices, and I was back on the mattress.

  I woke up in the real world, back in my own bed, where Lazarus was wrapped around me in our sheets. I didn't go back to sleep for a while, I just stared at my ring finger where my wedding ring sat undisturbed. Nana liked him. That was the peace I needed to get through life.