Dark Exodus (The Order of Vampires 2)
Cybil ran ahead and gasped. Colby barked and disappeared.
“Don’t go any further,” he yelled, hurrying his tired, frozen legs to catch up. “Jeans were definitely the wrong choice.”
All the breath left his lungs in a whoosh. Set deep in a valley of the mountains was an enormous spread of well-worked countryside. Stone walls and farmhouses dotted the picturesque view. Red barns popped against the white earth, and animals left a speckled trail of footprints like Colby’s.
The dog raced forward, chasing several clucking hens and sending a goat romping in the other direction. It was something out of a storybook.
He glanced down at his sister and laughed. Her smile meant everything to him. When he reached for her hand, she curled her small, cold fingers around his.
“Let’s go,” he said, pulling her down the hill toward the winter majesty.
As they traveled downhill, animals bleated. The warm, welcoming scent of smoke plumed from chimneys, and he ached to warm his body beside a fire. He could smell various foods cooking nearby and envisioned crispy fried bacon and fluffy eggs.
Boys in black, brimmed hats and girls in layered dresses and cloaks glided down the hillside on toboggans, and Cybil stilled to watch them from afar. Dane sensed her curiosity and grinned at the thought of her participating in such a normal childhood activity.
Only then did he realize how encased in grief their lives had become. An unexpected stab of hope wedged between his ribs and he frowned. Maybe this place wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Cybil giggled as one child took a tumble at the foot of the snowy hill, and Dane stared in shock. It was the first time he had heard her laugh since their mom died.
Sensing Cain watching him, he looked up. Awash with vulnerable emotions, he looked for Colby and thought only of the dog. Colby, Colby, Colby, he mentally repeated, hiding any other thoughts.
He wasn’t ready to concede and admit that coming to the farm might have been a wise decision for Cybil after all.
“Let’s keep moving,” Cain said, directing them west. “We’re going to that house over there.”
“Whose house is that?” Dane marched after him.
“My grandparents’. It’s where you guys are going to stay.”
A wooden fence boxed in the old colonial, and the front door opened the moment Cain unlatched the gate. A slender woman dressed in a plain bonnet and maroon gown smiled at them, and Cybil stopped walking.
“Cain,” she greeted with a smile. Colby rushed ahead to sniff the woman’s hand and she laughed. “And who is this?”
Cain looked back, giving no command that they follow. “That’s Colby, and this is Cybil and Dane.” He took the stairs and crossed the porch, pressing a kiss on the woman’s cheek. “Guys, this is Nanna Faith.”
She frowned, studying Cain with a confused look. Cain nodded with a solemn look in his eyes, then her smile reappeared but didn’t reach her eyes. “You must be freezing. Come in, come in. I’m sure your grandfather will have many questions about your journey,” Nanna Faith said softly as she held the door.
Dane towed Cybil along the path and told Colby to stay outside.
The house was bare and simple. The furniture was mostly made of wood and the wood floor was worn in spots. Braided rugs added a minimal splash of color.
“Cain.” A man, appearing about Cain’s age, filled a doorway. He had long black hair, as shiny as a crow’s feather, with a silver streak down the side. “You’re back.”
Cain removed his hat and held it in both hands, appearing more humble than Dane believed him to be. “Hello, Grandfather.”
Dane did a doubletake. Surely this guy wasn’t Cain’s grandpa. It was physically impossible, genetically preposterous. Yet, he had introduced the woman as Nanna Faith.
A moment passed when no one spoke a word, but Dane had the suspicious sense that plenty was said.
The man lowered his gaze, a grief-stricken look crossing his face. “So, you are certain it was Isaiah?”
Cain nodded solemnly. “I think the chances are extremely high.”
“Very well. Come inside, children.”
The men walked deeper into the house, and Dane halted Cybil from following. “Take off your shoes.”
They stomped out of the wet shoes, leaving chunks of slushy ice melting into the hardwood floor. Dane leaned down and using the sleeve of his sweatshirt he tried to mop up the mess before anyone saw it. When he looked up and found Nanna Faith watching him, he flushed. “Sorry.”
She smiled. “It’s only water.”
On socked feet, they followed her into the kitchen. He knew Amish people didn’t do cars or electricity, but actually seeing such primitive appliances in use was like traveling back in time.
Nanna Faith stood behind a wooden side table and sifted flour into a wide bowl. Other cooking powder cluttered the surface, and everything was jarred rather than packaged.
“You can warm your hands by the woodstove,” Faith said as she dug her hands into the bowl and kneaded the contents.