Ageless (13 page)

It was like someone had taken a
huge rectangular boulder and put it atop a wide base. But the base
was hollowed out and she could see that water followed from the top
of the boulder down the sides and into the base at the bottom. She
could see shimmering streaks of gold in the boulder reflected
through the streams of water. It was beautiful. She approached the
monument with caution, but couldn’t keep her fingers from skimming
the surface of the water at the base. It was cool to the
touch.

Violet made her way slowly all the
way around the monument. She didn’t know what it was, but she was
entranced. There was a magical energy that called to her. She just
didn’t know how to respond. As she came back around the boulder,
she sucked in a breath. She had been right. She wasn’t alone.
Jeremiah stood there watching her.

“Why are you here?” she
asked.

“I am always here,” he said.
“Regardless of what Elysa thinks, she can’t keep me away from what
I want.” His voice held a possessive tone that gave her a small
thrill.

“What do you want, Jeremiah?” She
was bold in her dreams. She crossed the distance between them and
stood in front of him, peering up into his dark eyes. She
desperately wanted him to kiss her.

His hand reached up and caressed
her cheek and she closed her eyes, leaning into it. His other hand
rested lightly on her hip, and then she felt herself spun around so
that her back was to him. His arms encircled her waist as he pulled
her closer to him. Then he bent down and whispered, “Look again,
Violet.”

Violet looked back at the boulder. The gold streaks
now formed patterns. She could see them illuminated beneath the
sheet of water. As she watched, they glowed and swirled on the
surface of the stone as if they were alive. At one point, she
thought for sure she saw the symbol that had appeared on her hand,
but it was gone before she could be sure. Then she saw it. The
swirls settled into a few very familiar characters.

She gasped. The gold glowing
letters came into view just as she felt his teeth sink into her
neck. It said “Violet Swanson Ward.” It was her
gravestone.

She burst out of the bed and
forgetting where she was, hit her head on the curved wall right
above her. “OUCH!” she cried out as her hand flew to her forehead.
Her fingertips came away bloody. The remnants of her dream were
slow to leave her mind, and she found herself wildly glancing
around the small room. There was still the sense that there was a
presence with her.

Then she heard a pounding on her
door. “Violet? Are you all right? Violet, answer me right now!”
Riveka’s voice demanded. “What’s going on?”

Her head throbbed as she swung her
legs out of the bunk and got to her feet. It took only two steps
before she reached the door and unlocked it. Riveka almost fell
through the open doorway. Her grandmother looked like she was ready
to go to a lady’s luncheon, wearing a fashionable pant suit, and
her hair was twisted up in a tasteful chignon.

As her grandmother’s eyes swept
over her, she could just imagine what Riveka was seeing. She was in
the same rumpled clothes as the night before and likely she had
strands of hair flying in every direction combined with a bloody
gash on her head. She was sure she looked like a complete
mess.

Riveka calmed as soon as she
realized that Violet was in one piece, and then her lips pursed.
“You gave me a fright with that yell, Violet. What’s the
problem?”

Violet said, “I had a bad dream and
then I hit my head. I’m sorry to startle you, Grandmother. I should
go clean this up.” Violet wasn’t in any mood to deal with Riveka.
She sidestepped past her grandmother and took a guess that the
bathroom was the door on the other side of hers. She took a small
breath of relief when she found that she was right.

“Violet? I expect you to be ready
for breakfast in fifteen minutes. Don’t be late,” Riveka’s voice
floated in behind her.

“Um hmm,” Violet said, shutting the
door quickly. She took a deep breath and turning around found
herself in another tiny room. There was a toilet, a small shower,
and a sink. Nothing fancy, just functional. She gripped either side
of the sink after turning on the water. She looked up into the
mirror and then gasped. There was no mark on her forehead at all.
Holding her hand up so that she could see it better, she saw the
drying red liquid still clearly on her fingertips. She sniffed
them. The coppery smell of blood was unmistakable. She was certain
it was her blood, but icy tendrils of fear coiled in her stomach.
What happened to the gash on her forehead? What did that
mean?

Slowly she sloshed water on her
face and tried to think straight. She tried to remember all the
pieces of her dream. Jeremiah had been there, and she pulled her
hair away from her neck, remembering the bite. Seeing nothing
there, she felt silly. Of course it had been just a dream. Maybe
she was hallucinating.

Remembering her grandmother’s
schedule, she ran her fingers through her long hair to try to calm
some of the flyaway strands. She looked barely presentable and she
knew it. Keep her eyes down, she left the bathroom and crept back
into her designated room. Making a closer inspection of the
contents of the duffel bag, she found a hair brush and travel-size
toiletries that would help make her feel semi-human again. She
decided to change her shirt, and found that the only one left in
the bag had a decidedly more feminine flair then she cared for. It
was a deep purple with capped sleeves, a flared fit, and a shimmery
lace overlay. If she hadn’t felt all sweaty and gross, she would
have gone to breakfast in her T-shirt, but she knew Riveka would
disapprove.

Ten minutes later, Violet emerged
from the back of the railcar into the bright sunshine streaming
through the windows of the sitting area at the front of the car.
Her grandparents were already sitting in the small sitting space.
Her grandfather was reading the paper and her grandmother was
looking over the small leather-bound notebook that Violet knew was
her social calendar. She had mentioned to Riveka once that she
could use her smartphone to keep everything in one place, but
Riveka made it clear that she preferred the old-fashioned way of
doing things. There was no sign in the car of Elysa or her
companions.

A coffee pot and empty cup were
sitting on a tray on the coffee table in between the chairs her
grandparents occupied and the small sofa opposite them. On a plate
next to the coffee pot, Violet saw an assortment of bagels and
fresh fruit. Her stomach immediately growled, and she realized that
she couldn’t even remember the last time she had eaten. She wanted
to swipe the plate of food off the table and escape back to her
room, but she knew that she couldn’t. Instead, she sat down on the
edge of the middle cushion of the sofa, tucking her legs off to the
side and crossing them right at her ankles. Her back was ramrod
straight, and she waited.

It took almost five minutes before
Riveka finally looked up. “I’m sure you are famished, Violet. Have
something to eat. Then we should talk.”

Violet didn’t like the sound of
that. Riveka didn’t talk. Riveka gave orders. But at least she had
released her to be able to eat. Eagerly, she grabbed a small plate
and filled it with fruit and a bagel. She passed over the cream
cheese and then pulled a small fork from a small pile of them next
to the food. Setting her plate down, she found a napkin and laid it
across her lap. Then she took the fork and plate and started to
eat. She kept her bites small, and set down her fork after each
one. Before picking the fork back up, she made sure that her mouth
was empty again.

Her grandmother’s gaze was heavy.
Violet remembered what a shock mealtimes were after moving in with
her grandparents. Riveka was militant about ensuring that Violet
portrayed the part of a proper lady, and that included a complete
overhaul of Violet’s eating habits and dining room table behavior.
There were no free passes; Violet either got it right, or there was
a hard rap across her knuckles. There were many nights that she
cried herself to sleep, a hand gently cradled next to her chest,
stiff and barely able to move. The rules seemed endless, and often
she wondered if she’d ever get them right. Being sent to school
during the year was a relief for many reasons, but not the least of
which was because she could dress and eat the way that she wanted
too.

Violet found that she did have
questions as she sat waiting for her grandmother to continue, but
she didn’t say anything. Riveka was very clear. Children did not
speak unless spoken too. That lesson had been one of the hardest
for her to learn. Where Violet’s parents had welcomed and
encouraged inquisitive thought, Riveka had little patience for it.
It made Violet sad to think that was likely what her father’s
childhood must have been like, and it didn’t surprise her that her
father would have rebelled. At least Violet had the memory of her
parents to remind her that life under Riveka’s roof wasn’t the only
family life example out there.

“You are on the doorstep of a
rather important birthday, Violet,” Riveka finally said.

Violet wasn’t sure what she
expected, but this wasn’t it. That’s when she determined that it
was a test. Riveka hadn’t asked a question even though she had
paused. Most people would consider that an appropriate junction to
respond. Violet was keenly aware, though, that the conversation
portion had not started yet. Riveka was in complete control, and
although it chafed Violet more than she could ever remember, she
kept quiet.

Having ascertained that Violet was
not going to interrupt, Riveka continued. “I had hoped to mark this
occasion with something more celebratory. Recent circumstances have
prevented that, so I find myself at a bit of loss. What would you
like to do for your birthday, Violet?”

Violet blinked. Her grandmother’s
sudden interest in her life made her wary, and she didn’t think
Riveka had ever been “at a loss” in her entire life. The idea of
marking the occasion with an event sounded very like her
grandmother, however; it was the perfect opportunity to showcase
Riveka’s own importance with her social circle. But this was the
first that Violet had heard of a birthday celebration, especially
as she lived hundreds of miles away from her grandparents’ home.
Something about all of it felt wrong. Violet smelled a
trap.

“Well, I appreciate that you have
spent so much time thinking about it, Grandmother,” Violet said
slowly. “I always value your opinion on these types of things. I
would gladly accept whatever you think is appropriate for a
celebration. Given the recent circumstances.”

She watched Riveka smile
brilliantly. Violet relaxed just a bit. It had been the right
answer. Of course, Riveka had an idea of what she wanted to do. She
just wanted to make sure that Violet would agree to whatever she
wanted. Violet’s shoulders tensed back up. She hated that she had
to always be on guard around her grandmother. She wished that her
grandfather would step in and offer an opinion, but she knew better
than to look in his direction. She had gone over Riveka’s head one
time shortly after she moved in with them, and that had been
disastrous.

“Well, in that case, I
do
have a lovely idea
that we might consider. I realize that it won’t be as grand as a
birthday party at BlueFin Country Club, but hopefully you won’t be
disappointed.”

Violet didn’t understand much about
society life where her grandparents lived, but she did know that
the equivalent of debutante balls occurred on a regular basis at
BlueFin Country Club. Her grandmother had never indicated that she
was planning such an event for Violet, so she was surprised. But at
the same time, she felt a blossoming sense of relief. Violet wasn’t
meant for that kind of life, regardless of who her grandmother
expected her to be. She didn’t want to be tied to a life of boring
teas and cocktail receptions and cardboard cutouts of people. She
suspected that the same thing had happened with her
father.

It made her uncomfortable that
Nicholas and Riveka paid so much money for her preparatory school
tuition, but Riveka had insisted on it. At the time Violet had
thought it was just because of how it would look to Riveka’s
friends if Violet was attending public school, but now she knew
better. It took a moment for all of this to rush through her mind,
and then she realized that Riveka was waiting for a
response.

“No, Grandmother, of course not,”
she said, trying not to shake her head so vehemently that Riveka
would consider changing her mind.

“Good, then with that settled, I’ll
let you in on a little secret. I think I’ve found something better;
something that you’ll no doubt feel more comfortable with,” Riveka
said, leaning forward.

Having finished her food, Violet
put her plate down and leaned in. She felt silly. The only other
person in the car was her grandfather, who was clearly in his own
little world. If she didn’t hear the newspaper crinkling as he
turned the pages, she’d forget that he was there.

“Elysa has this fantastic little
estate in central Florida. The weather is beautiful, it’s
completely remote and secluded, and we can spend a few days being
pampered and taken care of as a family. It’s safe there, and by the
time your birthday is over, Elysa will have been to settle things
with the Montroses and this will all have blown over,” Riveka said
with a small smile.