Free Resurrected by Erika Knudsen Page B

took in
a deep breath. The gentle light of the moon cascaded down around
her and looking around, she was relieved to see she was surrounded
by trees. Feeling more at ease, a sigh escaped her lips. Not quite
knowing what to do, Eme sat beside where she had just risen. She
didn’t know how to take what she had just seen in her
dream.
    She hopped to her feet not
wanting to be there any longer and gathered the things she had
buried the night before. Having exhausted much of her energy the
night before on magick, she felt rather weak. With the combination
of being fatigued and unnerved by her dreams, Eme wasn’t even going
to try and attempt magick that night. She decided to walk to the
nearest town and make use of man-made transportation. With her
backpack casually hanging over one shoulder, she began walking in
the general direction of the lights she had seen last
night.
    Walking swiftly, Eme’s
thoughts were frenzied. Instead of returning home, she felt she
must instead head to Rome posthaste. Her brother’s spirit was
guiding her to the missing key. The idea of heading to Rome was
terrifying. She didn’t know what to expect, she had assumed he was
dead and let the memory of him escape her.
    Reaching the city limits of
Baton Rouge, she quickly hailed the first cab she saw and headed
directly for the closest international airport. She decided to book
her flight to Rome for early the next night.
    She made the best of her
early morning in Baton Rouge trying not to brood over her past in
Rome. After feeding, Eme lay on the bed in the motel room beginning
to feel antsy. The thought of phoning La Maison Chantonnay came to
mind but something held her back. She had a feeling that things
were not the same there and she feared if she didn’t hurry, the
people she loved wouldn’t be there when she returned. Eme couldn’t
wait to be in the air, at least doing something–going somewhere,
rather than just waiting for things to happen.
     
     
     
     

Chapter 8
    (Deirdra – December 6,
1999)
     
    After I left Elijah, hunger
gnawed at me until blood was all I could think about. The warmth
from the mustang’s heater was soothing. I drove aimlessly for some
time before I parked outside a strip mall. I sat in the idling car
for a moment before turning it off and climbing out into the frigid
air. It was eerily calm and silent. The parking lot was practically
empty, except for the small cluster of cars outside the entrance to
the old English-style pub. Casually I made my way to the pub where
I would find my snack.
    The night sky had a pinkish
hue due to the city lights that illuminated the hovering clouds.
Taking in its beauty, I took one last look up at the sky and then I
swung open the door. Cigarette smoke tinged with the scent of stale
beer wafted into my face. I walked into the gray smog and over to
the bar, taking a seat at one of the many empty barstools. Turning
slightly I rested my elbow against the counter and proceeded to
scan those lingering in the pub.
    The décor had a 1980s feel
and was mixed with the odd antique from Jolly Ole’ England. I was
struck by the fact that the oldest real antique in this place was
me! A chuckle escaped my lips.
    “What would you like,
Madame?” the bartender asked in French, startling me out of my
thought.
    “Red wine, please,” I
answered swiftly as I turned to look at him. I nearly fell off the
barstool from shock–before me stood Angel. I quickly tried to
compose myself and sent him a stern look.
    “What are you doing here?
What are you trying to do to me?” I was exasperated.
    With a blank expression, he
turned, grabbed a wineglass and filled it with red wine. Putting
the glass down, he gently pushed it towards me.
    “Why do you bother with
such things as ordering wine? Don’t you know that no matter what
tricks you use, all mortals know there is something unnatural about
you?” Angel said, ignoring my questions.
    “ How dare you!” was all I
could muster, which made Angel