Page 55 of The Immortal's One
Bella had offered to give me a tour of the mansion, but I turned her down. She seems kind enough, but I’m not here to pretend everything’s fine. I’m not some guest. I’m a prisoner stuck in a gilded cage.
As soon as I can, I’m going to find a way out of here—away from these people who claim to be Immortal, who wield the power to twist memories, making someone believe in things that never even happened.
I can’t stay here, trapped in their web of lies and manipulation. I won’t be able to tell what’s real.
My stomach churns at the thought of Dad.
Before Bella brought me to this room, Thane made it clear that my loved ones wouldn’t be worried when I didn’t come home today. I didn’t confirm they also got to Kayla and Kevin, but Thane doesn’t strike me as the type to leave anything to chance.
I look over my shoulder and scan the finely decorated room for the hundredth time, confirming there isn’t a phone, computer, or anything remotely useful that would allow me to contact Dad.
I don’t know what story the Immortals fabricated and put into his head, but knowing how easy it is for them to get to my loved ones only amplifies my fear of them.
With a sigh, I turn back and stare at the fluffy white clouds passing by the grassy mountain in the distance. Before Bella left me alone, she told me we’re in Greece. I should have known. The landscape looked familiar. Not to mention it went along with the Immortal gods’ theme they’re all embracing.
I snort, but the momentary amusement dies when I seeThane and Des strolling across the lawn, making their way toward the tree line.
This is my chance.
I’m not sure where in Greece we are, but the warm weather makes me think we’re somewhere in the south. There’s got to be a small town or village nearby. If I can make it there, maybe I can find someone to let me use their phone to call for help.
I’d been debating which direction to go, but seeing Des and Thane disappear into the trees makes the decision for me. The opposite way it is.
I pull my ponytail tight and take one last look around the room. Then I rush to the bed and yank off the pillowcase. I remove the pillow and stuff a knitted blanket inside. It’s not much, but I’ll need something to keep warm if the sun sets before I find shelter.
With my makeshift sack in hand, I walk to the balcony. The second floor is higher than my second-story house back in Maine, but there’s a trellis attached to the wall to my left.
I tie the ends of the pillowcase together and slide my arm through the hole. Then, carefully, I step onto the stone railing. Adrenaline sharpens my senses. Heights don’t scare me, but I have a healthy respect for them. A fall from here wouldn’t kill me, but it would hurt like hell.
I curl my fingers into the gaps in the wooden trellis and tug. The structure doesn’t move. I take a deep breath, tighten my grip, and swing a leg out.
My tennis shoe is too wide to give me a firm footing. I grip the trellis until my knuckles turn white, ignoring the sting of splinters and the scrape of vines against my skin, then bring my other foot down.
Knowing I don’t have the strength to hold my weight forlong, I begin the painstaking task of descending without making too much noise or falling off.
The flowering vines tickle my face. A bug crawls out of the greenery and over my hand. I fight the urge to squeal. Each step down feels like an eternity, and every creak of wood is a potential beacon for my captors to find me.
Focus, Darcie. You’re almost there, I try to assure myself.
I keep my breathing even in an effort to control the way my body trembles from exertion and fear. When my feet finally touch the ground, I let out a shaky breath of relief—until a voice stops me cold.
“Did you really think you could escape without anyone noticing?”
I spin around. “Lome,” I exhale in shock.
The laid-back man I met over coffee leans against the open door on the bottom floor, arms crossed. A burst of laughter grabs my attention, and I glance over his shoulder. A massive television screen flashes to a couple playing volleyball on a beach.
Is that a reality dating show?
“Darcie? Did you hear me?”
My gaze snaps back to his face. He’s smiling, but the tightness around his eyes reveals he’s not amused.
Panic grips me. “You guys can’t keep me here against my will.”
He sighs. “Believe me, Darcie. None of uswantto do this.”
“Then let me go home. Please.”
