Brown Eyes by Quinteria Ramey

Brown Eyes by Quinteria Ramey

Author:Quinteria Ramey
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2011-06-23T23:00:00+00:00


Day II

The best laid plans of mice and men go often askew

-Robert Burns

Chapter Eight

Deserter

The alarm clock was screaming, flashing 6:00 am brightly on its display when I awoke next to my mother in her bed. I must have fallen asleep while still connected to Tristan’s mind. The memories of what I had seen now flooded my brain. Immediately, I again felt terrible for Leia’s having to die to fulfill my purpose. She’d suffered so much already. I couldn’t help but also feel just a wee bit jealous that she was the one staring up into his eyes. I reminded myself for what seemed to be the twentieth time that Darren was my choice. My time with Tristan was over—I needed to stop using my abilities to keep tabs on him, no matter how comforting his presence. If something were to happen between Tristan and Leia, it would be none of my business. I had to learn not to be so selfish.

My mother, who must have slipped into the covers without waking me, stirred next, leaning up in her bed as I reached over to silence the alarm.

“Ana, I set the alarm early to give us some time to talk,” she informed me. Duncan’s announcement had left me a mess and I’d used her room as my own personal sanctuary. She told me that she’d acted as my representative while I was sleeping and now had news from the outside world I was currently hiding from.

I’d missed a lot.

First off, the other havens had decided it was too dangerous to help us—even Genevieve’s. Though she’d given a rousing speech to rise to our aid, she was voted down by her Elder Witch Council and ultimately had to concede to her haven’s wishes. I couldn’t say that I blamed them for not wanting to get involved, certain death was descending upon Brighton. Amelie and Corinne had been called home in the middle of the night.

Our haven was successful in attracting the rogue witches and warlocks who’d never accepted the peace agreement struck up between the two sides. “Vampire hunters,” my mother called them. In the short time that the news we were at war with the vampires had become public knowledge among witches, hundreds had flocked to Wintre. My mother said that it was almost impossible to navigate the interior of the house for all the people now.

Second, Duncan had ordered that we go on the offensive, wiping out known vampire “hot spots” in the surrounding areas. Even before I’d gotten my memories, I’d known about the vampires having “free reign” to feed on anything outside the havens; it was a clause our ancestors had been forced to agree to when we lost the last war. It was also why the first fifteen years of my life had been spent running from town to town. An organized effort to go after them would have been met with across-the-board disapproval only three days ago. In that short amount of time, our whole world had changed.



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