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I remind her of our initial reason for this walk. Our conversation has taken us in a whole different direction of thought. Then again, whatever I think about or focus on, my mind always finds its way back to her somehow. She has permeated my being in a way no one else has, with her gentleness, with her desire to show herself as a tough girl, but in fact, she is in desperate need of belonging and being loved.
“This way,” she says, continuing forward, because that is the only way we can look to.
The past is the past, and that is where we should leave it. If we think too much about it, we will allow it to poison our present, as well as our future.
Chapter Fifteen
Bianca
It is pitch black. I can barely see anything. But I don’t dare turn on the flashlight which I’m holding in my hand. Someone might notice me.
I manage to sneak out of the cellar mostly by following my inner instinct in knowing where to go. My eyes can’t really adjust to the darkness around me.
I feel my heart beating in my throat. I can barely breathe. I’m beyond frightened. I’m petrified. But I know I must do this, even though Edmund has told me not to. I don’t see any other way. I have to help him. Otherwise, the shifters might find the vampires before they find the well and I dread to think what bloodshed will follow.
I tiptoe out of the cellar and when I find myself outside, I breathe in the cool, night air. I look around, half expecting to realize that I’m not alone.
But I am. There is nothing but silence around me, with the occasional cricket heard somewhere in the distance. I could still turn around. Just go back down to the cellar, lie down and close my eyes. I don’t have to do this. When Edmund finds out, I know he’ll be pissed.
At the same time, I know that this is something I have to do, although this sounds contradictory. I am the only one who can get into the Elder’s home. I know that there is a way to enter his home through the broken window of his cellar, something I’ve heard some shifters do, when they were trying to cause mischief and prove that they were tough. Now, if that window is repaired, then I’ll have to find another way in. But I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.
With these thoughts in my mind, I start running. My feet pick up the pace faster and faster, and I know that I will eventually get where I am headed. I think that I’ll get tired soon enough and will have to continue walking, but somehow, my body is full of energy I keep running and breathing in rhythm, without feeling that heaviness in my chest, which usually accompanies fast running.
I have no idea how long I keep running, but when I finally stop, I realize that my feet stopped on their own simply because I have reached my destination. The Elder’s home is the largest house in all the town. It is three storeys tall and takes up almost a quarter of the whole street.
This is great, because the Elder, his wife and their two kids are the only ones occupying this vast mansion. This means that it should be easy enough to sneak into the house and remain on the ground floor, while the bedrooms are on the first or the second floor. In theory, it should be an easy task.
I look to my left then my right. The street is empty. It’s strange how this town has always felt so safe for every single shifter living here. I know some shifters who don’t even lock their doors. That’s how safe they feel. As for the Elder, I doubt he doesn’t lock his door. I won’t be tempted to try it. Better to follow my initial plan.
I sneak around the house and check out the window in question. Luck seems to favor me tonight, because where there was supposed to be glass, there is nothing but a gaping hole looking into the darkness of the cellar.
I swallow heavily, feeling uneasy about just jumping in there. I don’t know what’s down there. Last I remember, the Elder didn’t have any animals, dogs especially, but that could have changed. I feel uneasy, but I know I won’t back out now.
I inhale deeply, trying to calm myself down. Just don’t think about it too much, I tell myself.
I bend down and first push my legs through the opening, then I lower myself slowly, but my feet are unable to feel the ground. Closing my eyes and praying that I don’t twist my ankle or something stupid like that, I let go. I land on my feet skillfully, without making too much noise, then I wait. My mind counts to ten.
When I realize that nothing is happening and the house is still as silent as it was a few minutes ago, I realize that I can continue.
I turn on the flashlight and look around. I don’t know what I was expecting. Anything but a usual cellar, I guess, with shelves of preserves and old, cardboard boxes. The moment I find the stairs, I head over to them. I try to make as little noise as possible, but my heart is beating so loudly that it’s booming inside my ears. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that the whole house is able to hear my drumming heart as well.
I step on the first stair, and it creaks underneath my weight.
“Shit,” I whisper to myself, stopping immediately. I listen for sound coming from upstairs, but nothing is heard.
I extend my leg as widely as I can, skipping three stairs, then step on the next one. This time, there is no creaking. I do the same thing again and again, until I am at the top. I exhale with relief, pressing my hand gently on the doorknob. I half expect it to be locked.
It’s not. The door gives in easily. I can’t believe this is all going so swimmingly. I am moving carefully, because I don’t know what to expect. The house is bathed in darkness, but there is enough light coming from outside. The moon is bright, shockingly so, this night. One more stroke of good luck. I’ll take it as a good sign.
I recognize immediately where I am. The kitchen is to my left. The entrance door is down the hallway to my right, and opposite from me is the living room. That is what I’m looking for.
I leave the cellar door open, just in case I need to rush back. I walk slowly, allowing the carpet to soak up the sound of my footsteps. I look around, dimming the light of my flashlight to the bare minimum, just enough to be able to find what I’m looking for.
There it is. The moment I enter the living room, I see it. The cupboard is still where it was when I first saw it. Nothing seems to have been disturbed in there. There’s still a pile of papers, some old, some new looking. I walk over to it, then gently open and reach for the pile.
My fingers are trembling so much that I instantly drop it all on the floor.
