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“Nothing. They’re all history books over here.”
I sigh, feeling as though this entire idea was pointless. Not that we had anything better to do. I’m about to suggest we head back to my room and clean up for lunch, when the large mahogany desk that sits in the middle of the room catches my attention.
Standing, I walk toward it as though it’s beckoning me. I open drawer after drawer, rifling through the papers to find nothing of significance. My gut tells me not to stop. Pulling open the bottom drawer, I find it empty save for an emerald-green decorative box embellished with ruby jewels. It sits in the palm of my hand, heavy and awkward. It’s so familiar—like something I once owned—something I lost. The top pops open in my hands and I’m disappointed to find it empty.
Why would Julian or his father have something so insignificant from my home? It doesn’t even make sense. There’s no way it’s mine. I probably had something similar to it at some point. Lowering it to its place, my hand hits the bottom of the drawer. The reverberating sound is deep, as if the drawer is hollow beneath. My hand slides across the wood, looking for a catch, but the wood slides backward, unveiling a secret compartment.
“Stacey,” I hiss. “Come here.”
She comes to my side, peering down at me.
“What did you find?”
I pull a worn, brown leather journal from the dark crevice.
Standing, I place the journal on top of the desk and open it to the first page.
April 1994
Something has changed. Julian and Lawrence are filled with joy. Everything from their birth on has been overshadowed by the thirst. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen them happy. At the same time, Marcellus has fallen into a deep despair. He hasn’t left his chambers for weeks. The last I saw him; he was disheveled and crazed. He said it felt like his heart was being ripped out.
Could it be? Could the legends be true?
I skip to the next page, eager to see if it speaks of the legend referenced on the last page.
June 2000
Lawrence came to me the other day and asked if he could be excused to take an extended trip. When I questioned where he was going, he said the Midwest. Why would he feel compelled to go to the Midwest of all places? More concerning, Julian also made an off-handed comment about wanting to visit Ohio. What could make two brothers wish to visit an area that neither have ever been before or shown an interest in? A place with very little to attract them. I wonder. Could it be happening?
October 2000
I saw them. They were asleep, curled up in their beds. The smell of their blood pumping through their veins made it almost impossible to linger for long. If they are the key, draining them of their blood would not be wise. There were only two, though. I’m undecided as to whether these children could be the answer to our family’s survival, but I have hope. I found Lawrence nearby, which means one of their blood is beckoning him. I would’ve stayed longer, but one woke, seeing me. I fled—like the coward I am.
When I finish reading the last entry, my breathing is heavy. So many coincidences—Ohio, two girls, a vampire waking a child—I can’t dismiss the possibility. Could he have been watching me?
“Does any of this mean anything?” Stacey asks.
“I don’t know yet, but I think we’re getting close to something.”
Closing the journal, I reflect on the words. Julian’s father’s journal admits that he and Lawrence were in Ohio. I think it’s time I get to know Lawrence Bellamy a little better.
Chapter Twenty
Stacey and I eat in silence.
I’ve been thinking about all the reasons why the Bellamys might have been drawn to Ohio—and I keep coming up short.
A slurping sound grates on my nerves. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Stacey with her spoon positioned in front of her lips. Lawrence and I exchange glances. His brow is tilted upward in amusement, while my eyes are narrowed in on Stacey. She’s one of the most poised people I’ve ever met. The sucking of the soup is very unlike her.
“Everything all right, love?” Lawrence asks Stacey.
Her head lifts, and the spoon comes to rest atop the bowl.
“Fine. Why?”
“Do you have something against that soup?” Lawrence smirks.
“Oh.” She tilts her head back in a laugh. “Was that awkward? No more than the silence in this room. Can somebody please start a damn conversation?”
