Vigil's Echo

Chapter 8

Newer note: I'm only just now realizing that I wrote this chapter days ago and didn't post it. Smh 🤦🏽‍♀️. Sorry, guys.

Note: Finally getting back to this one! I know it's been a while. Thanks for sticking with it! Honestly, I'd kept this story in the "Just for Fun" category, but people seem to like it so I'll keep at it. Anyway, that's all for the note. Don't forget to vote and let me know what you think in the comments and as always, enjoy ❤️❤️❤️!

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A steady beep sounded off beside me, pulsating with the slow and heavy thudding of my heart. My eyes fluttered open and my stomach rolled. A bright light dangled just over my face. That same familiar stench of bleach, sanitizer and feint traces of iron from spilled blood. I was in a hospital. My eyes rolled around the room and a small rush of relief ran through me when I realized I was in a patient bed rather than a morgue chamber.

"Brenna?" a woman's voice called out, light and airy and a little hoarse, thick with tears. My head fell over to my right and my eyes landed squarely on none other than Bonnie Bennett. "Oh my god," she whispered, wiping moisture from her tear-stricken face. "You're awake....How do you feel?" she asked through sobs.

I felt...empty. Lost. Missing from something...or like something was missing from me. Something big, important. Essential. I sat straight up, tugging the tubes away from my nose and pulling the line from the vein in arm. "How long have I been here?" I demanded coldly.

"I-I don't know, a while. Maybe a few days--" she started to explain.

"Days? I've been unconscious for days!" I gasped, flitting to the hospital room closet. I rummaged through the contents in the closet, trying to remember the last articles of clothing I wore before the hideous polka-dot curtain-gown currently covering everything but a thin strip of flesh down my entire backside.

"Y-yeah, I was in New Orleans when the hospital called me. I-I brought you those clothes, take anything in the closet. It's all yours," she struggled through her words. There was something off about her. A tinge of something odd in her tone...I recognized it. It was the same tone and inability to keep an even quiver-free voice she had when she first dropped me at the Salvatore Boarding School. The same tone when she felt like she was lying or betraying someone.

I grabbed the first pair of black joggers I spotted and a cropped white tee and quickly slipped them on before turning to face my traitorous cousin. "Bonnie, when's the last time you spoke to Mr. Saltzman?" I asked, tilting my head as I studied her movements.

She fiddled with the hem of her shirt. "I...don't know actually, Bren. Maybe a couple months?" she shrugged. "Do you remember what happened? How you got here?"

I stared at her blankly, keeping my expression even and cold until she shifted uncomfortably beneath my scrutiny. "A couple months," I snorted. "Are they here?" I asked, narrowing my eyes on her as she picked at her shirt again.

"Are who here, Bren?" she asked, widening her eyes innocently.

"Alaric and Emma," I bit out. "Are they here?" I demanded again.

"N-no, I only just got here last night," she shook her head absently, then nodded, like she'd just realized something. "I should probably notify them--"

"No," I hissed. "Don't bother. You should go back to New Orleans, Bonnie," I warned, numbly. Silently, I pushed my magic out, searching for any trail of my betrayers in the vicinity. I felt various energies buzzing throughout the hospital, but none were distinctly Emma's or Alaric's.

"Brenna, I'm not going anywhere," she said in a soothing voice, like she was making a promise to a child. "You were hurt - seriously injured. I can't just leave you like--"