Read Online Adrift 3: Rising (Adrift Series) by K.R. Griffiths - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: K.R. Griffiths
Ads: Link
chuckled to himself. Herb was just relentless .
“I’ll be back with the Grand Cleric in a few minutes,” Mancini said gruffly. Apparently, he had decided that the best way to deal with Herb was to flatly ignore him. Dan didn’t think that would last long. “If anyone else enters this room while I’m gone, keep your mouths shut.”
Mancini stared balefully at Herb for a moment and then, without another word, he stalked away. Moments later, Dan heard a door slam behind him and a lock engaged with a soft snick . Silence fell upon the room.
“Alone at last,” Herb said, heaving a mock-sigh. He stood, making his way to the side-table and picked up a decanter, taking a large swig directly from it.
“Rum,” he said grimly, wrinkling his nose. “Who keeps rum in a decanter?”
He held out the drink, offering it around the table. No one responded.
“What do we do now?” Conny said.
“Now,” Herb replied, shrugging and taking another hit from the decanter, “we listen, and Dan talks.”
Dan blinked in surprise as Herb turned toward him and met his eyes with a piercing stare. “You can start with the black river.”
At the mention of the river, Dan felt a jolt of the old anxiety lancing his chest. Talking about it was the one thing he had avoided. For years .
“You first mentioned it back in London,” Herb said. “It didn’t seem to me like something that had just occurred to you. It seemed important, and I’ve had a gut full of people keeping important information from me. So I want to know what it is, Dan. Right now. No more keeping us in the dark. If you know something, I...” he glanced at Conny, “ we want to know it.”
Herb sat back in his chair, folding his arms, and glared at Dan expectantly.
Conny nodded, and her eyes, too, fell on Dan.
Dan’s shoulders slumped.
And he sucked in a deep breath.
*
Herb watched Dan’s reaction carefully. At the mention of the black river, his body stiffened momentarily, and his eyes lost their focus. Fear lined his face. It was, Herb thought, an instinctive response, like watching somebody snatching their hand away from a flame.
Dan’s shoulders slumped, and for a second he stared straight through Herb. He looked like he was weighing up some terrible decision, some choice where every alternative was undesirable.
Finally, he cleared his throat.
“Two years ago, I was attacked by a mugger.” Dan reached up to his thick mop of hair, pulling it back from his forehead to reveal an ugly scar that ran down his temple. Herb blinked. He had noticed the scar once before, and had been aware of how keen Dan was to hide it. It was a subject Herb had meant to bring up, before events in London pushed it from his mind.
“He stabbed me in the head,” Dan continued, letting his unruly fringe fall back into place. “I nearly died. Maybe should have died. I was in a coma for weeks. ‘Serious brain damage,’ the doctors said. “I was...lucky to be alive.”
Tears filled Dan’s eyes, and he shook his head suddenly, as though he regretted saying anything. For a moment, his eyes were lost in memories.
“I started to suffer panic attacks. Post-traumatic stress. That’s what the doctors said, and the therapist. It made sense, I suppose, and they told me that what I was going through was perfectly... normal . But each time I had a panic attack, I’d see the same thing. Visions, nightmares, whatever you want to call it. Always the same thing. A river of black water, pouring over me, sweeping me away. And every time I fell into the river, I would feel the same, like the current was dragging me toward something…awful. Death, perhaps. Insanity; I don’t know. Medication helped, a little, but I always knew it was there, bubbling away under the surface, waiting to take me away.”
Herb’s eyes widened. “You think that injury changed you. You think that’s the reason the vampires can’t affect you.”
It wasn’t a question, but it didn’t need to be.
“I’ll be back with the Grand Cleric in a few minutes,” Mancini said gruffly. Apparently, he had decided that the best way to deal with Herb was to flatly ignore him. Dan didn’t think that would last long. “If anyone else enters this room while I’m gone, keep your mouths shut.”
Mancini stared balefully at Herb for a moment and then, without another word, he stalked away. Moments later, Dan heard a door slam behind him and a lock engaged with a soft snick . Silence fell upon the room.
“Alone at last,” Herb said, heaving a mock-sigh. He stood, making his way to the side-table and picked up a decanter, taking a large swig directly from it.
“Rum,” he said grimly, wrinkling his nose. “Who keeps rum in a decanter?”
He held out the drink, offering it around the table. No one responded.
“What do we do now?” Conny said.
“Now,” Herb replied, shrugging and taking another hit from the decanter, “we listen, and Dan talks.”
Dan blinked in surprise as Herb turned toward him and met his eyes with a piercing stare. “You can start with the black river.”
At the mention of the river, Dan felt a jolt of the old anxiety lancing his chest. Talking about it was the one thing he had avoided. For years .
“You first mentioned it back in London,” Herb said. “It didn’t seem to me like something that had just occurred to you. It seemed important, and I’ve had a gut full of people keeping important information from me. So I want to know what it is, Dan. Right now. No more keeping us in the dark. If you know something, I...” he glanced at Conny, “ we want to know it.”
Herb sat back in his chair, folding his arms, and glared at Dan expectantly.
Conny nodded, and her eyes, too, fell on Dan.
Dan’s shoulders slumped.
And he sucked in a deep breath.
*
Herb watched Dan’s reaction carefully. At the mention of the black river, his body stiffened momentarily, and his eyes lost their focus. Fear lined his face. It was, Herb thought, an instinctive response, like watching somebody snatching their hand away from a flame.
Dan’s shoulders slumped, and for a second he stared straight through Herb. He looked like he was weighing up some terrible decision, some choice where every alternative was undesirable.
Finally, he cleared his throat.
“Two years ago, I was attacked by a mugger.” Dan reached up to his thick mop of hair, pulling it back from his forehead to reveal an ugly scar that ran down his temple. Herb blinked. He had noticed the scar once before, and had been aware of how keen Dan was to hide it. It was a subject Herb had meant to bring up, before events in London pushed it from his mind.
“He stabbed me in the head,” Dan continued, letting his unruly fringe fall back into place. “I nearly died. Maybe should have died. I was in a coma for weeks. ‘Serious brain damage,’ the doctors said. “I was...lucky to be alive.”
Tears filled Dan’s eyes, and he shook his head suddenly, as though he regretted saying anything. For a moment, his eyes were lost in memories.
“I started to suffer panic attacks. Post-traumatic stress. That’s what the doctors said, and the therapist. It made sense, I suppose, and they told me that what I was going through was perfectly... normal . But each time I had a panic attack, I’d see the same thing. Visions, nightmares, whatever you want to call it. Always the same thing. A river of black water, pouring over me, sweeping me away. And every time I fell into the river, I would feel the same, like the current was dragging me toward something…awful. Death, perhaps. Insanity; I don’t know. Medication helped, a little, but I always knew it was there, bubbling away under the surface, waiting to take me away.”
Herb’s eyes widened. “You think that injury changed you. You think that’s the reason the vampires can’t affect you.”
It wasn’t a question, but it didn’t need to be.
Similar Books
