Page 4 of Princes of Sin
“They’re going to know,” my father had said, his voice resigned.
“Darling, we don’t know that,” my mum had replied, sounding exasperated.
“Lord Alaric Cross has been watching me for years. Trust me. They know.”
“The Lords of Darkness are a scourge on this earth. We have to trust that our people will take care of it before it becomes an issue.”
I’d heard that name before–heard the rumors in boarding school.
The Lords of Darkness.
Monsters. Murderers. Working for only themselves, with a deadly agenda.
They killed my parents, but why?
And where am I supposed to go now?
I take a step back from the garden house. If they find out I’m alive, they will come after me. If the official report notices that the garden house was broken into…
My chest heaves as I cry, head dropping in despair.
I can’t leave any evidence.
I can’t leaveanytrail for them to find me.
And I have nowhere to go.
The vast emptiness of that thought causes me to drop onto the ground and wrap my arms around my knees. The only thing I can do is watch as my home burns to the ground, along with every person I’ve ever loved.
Nowhere to go.
Nowhere.
The various aunts and uncles I have scattered throughout the country won’t work, either. That’ll be the first place they look. All of my options aren’tactuallyoptions, because I know enough about them to know they will hunt me to the ends of the earth if they know I survived this.
All for simply being a witness to my parents’ murder.
The grief morphs into anger as the night drags on. The warm, June air is hardly comforting. I can’t stop shivering, and it’s notuntil I hear sirens that I stand up and walk into the forest beyond the estate. I don’t stop crying as the fire engine stops in front of my house–as several men unwind a hose and begin to attempt to put out the flames. But from my vantage point–from the way the angry flames are spilling out of all of the windows–there’s no way one hose will be enough to touch this fire.
There’s a loud groaning sound, and the firefighters shout to each other as the house collapses in on itself. Four stories are flattened in an instant, sending a large plume of dark grey smoke into the sky. Another fire truck arrives, and by the time the third arrives, I can’t watch any more. I turn and walk into the forest, knowing that in fifteen or so miles, I will meet one of the country roads.
And from there…
I have no idea.
All I know is that I have to get away, have to lay low for a few weeks.
Sniffling and keeping my chin up, I walk forward, knowing that with every step, I’m shedding my old self one piece at a time.
I’ve never been more grateful for the warm summer weather, and my feet start to ache as I walk over the pebbled dirt. Focusing on my breathing, I know I’m safe. I push down the thoughts about my parents–about howlifelessthey looked–
I can’t think about that.
I have to keep moving forward.
A couple of hours later, I come up to a small, country house. Walking slowly, I hide behind the foliage as I walk around the perimeter. There are no cars, and all of the curtains are drawn despite it being midday.Empty.My lips are cracked, and my throat is aching for water. I should also wash myself off, if possible, in case I encounter someone.
Keep a low profile.
