Page 29 of Liberty
Chapter 13
LIBERTY
Whoa.It had been hours since that little bomb was dropped, and everyone in this room seemed as shocked as I was. I was still shocked. I was related to James, by so many great-great greats I could not count. And these boys, well, Greta was their family. They were descendants of her sons.
“So, your dear old grandma wants me dead.” I sounded breathless as I leaned over old photos and images of James’ history.
“We would never let that happen, Liberty,” Ellis swore, and I sincerely hoped he was right.
We were alone in James’ – my – library. Sterling went off to do some research, trying to use his connections to locate Greta based on a packet of information Mr. Collins just provided. Oak went to do whatever the hell he wanted because, honestly, for such an enormous man, he was graceful, and not a single person saw him slip away.
It left Ellis alone with me, not that I minded much. All three of them were growing on me. Oak for his quiet, protective nature. Ellis for his sarcastic wit and his broken soul. Sterling, though arrogant, could be charming, in a clueless puppy sort of way. Two hundred years old, and you would think he worked past that. But nope, that characteristic was solidly in place, and it shouldn’t be appealing. Yet, I couldn’t help but feel a pull toward it.
“So, these pictures are definitely a blast from the past.” Ellis tossed a stack back into the pile.
“Where you there for any of them?” I asked.
“These? Nah. Despite how it seems, we rarely hung out with James. I mean, we did the occasional function, but that’s probably about as far as it goes.”
He picked up another stack of pictures, shifting through them, occasionally smiling, sometimes frowning. Other times he would stare with the longing of a starved child, and I don’t think he realized I was watching, or if he did, he didn’t mention it. He was almost done with the second stack when he froze, a square piece of card stock in his hand. He flipped it over, squinting to read the writing on the back before turning it back over and examining it.
When he stared without speaking, curiosity got the better of me, “What is it?”
He looked up as if he forgot I was there and blinked a few times. “It’s nothing.”
He tossed it into the pile and moved on. “It was clearly something.”
Before he could object, I reached into the pile and snatched the paper up. He went for it, and I turned, putting my back between us so I could see what he discarded. He reached over my head, and I pushed him back with my butt as I leaned forward, trying to avoid getting the paper taken away.
“What don’t you want me to see, Ellis? It’s all technically my property; I would have seen it, anyway.”
“I was planning to take it with me,” he grunted as I elbowed him in the stomach when he was close to snatching it.
“Stealing is a crime,” I accused.
“It’s practically a personal possession.” He groaned as I stepped on his foot, allowing me to bolt forward away from him and out of his reach, only to glance down and –
“It’s the three of you,” I gasped, my hand going up to my mouth to cover my shock at the image so expertly etched into the small square with charcoal.
Ellis’ body was plastered against my back as he leaned over me. “I forgot how good James was at drawing. He had a knack for art, like you.”
“I thought you three weren’t friends.”
His palms came down on the table on each side, caging me against the wood. “We were until we weren’t. I don’t even know what went wrong, and maybe that’s the real fucking tragedy about this whole fucking situation. Things would always suck, but over the years, it might have been easier if we weren’t all so alone.”
“When was this?” I asked, though, deep down, I think I already knew. Without him saying a single word, I read the description on the back, lead settling in my stomach. “He drew you three, how he saw you before you got turned.”
A humorless laugh filled my ears. “What a fucking reminder. Like we didn’t have that day playing on repeat for two hundred years.”
“What was it like?”
“Being turned? Or living?” His voice was close, but it felt far away.
“Both.”
I turned, leaning my butt against the table. Ellis was inches away from me, but he didn’t back up, didn’t bother to move his arms or pull away. He licked his lips, and my eyes followed the movement, entranced. “Back then, living was an honor, but so was dying. It was hard work and labor, and everything you did served a purpose for survival. But I never got the honor that came with dying. I’ve been stuck in between for so long that I don’t know how to be dead or how to live fully. On the night that it happened, Sterling and I were fighting. Oak, god, he’s always been smarter than us, less of a hothead. He was watching us, observing, probably trying to figure out who was the best person to take out.”
I smirked. “That seems so very Oakish.”