The Darkness Within (Sanguine Series: Awakening Book 1)

by H. M Reilly

  The cold air blasted her in the face, stealing the warmth from her cheeks. A thin layer of frost crunched beneath her boots as she crossed the parking lot. The night was quiet, even empty. The trees on the base of the mountain only made her feel alone.

  Her eyes resembled old graffiti under the bridge—black, bold, and smudged. The bold red on her lips popped when she smiled. The heels of her boots clicked against the floor. Tonight, there was nobody checking IDs and no bouncer to stop her when she walked in.

  A live band stood on the stage off in the far corner of the dimly lit bar. A smile curled at the corners of her lips when she turned her attention to the band standing beneath the stage lights; Black Thorns was painted across the front of the drum. A man dressed in a black shirt and a pair of jeans torn at one knee held a guitar. He paced slowly around the small stage, fiddling with the pegs on the tuning machine. Another man with long brown hair sat behind a set of drums, flinging and twisting a pair of sticks. He rapidly tapped the pedals with his foot. A third man held a bass guitar, plucking the strings with his thumb.

  Charlotte made her way over to one of the stools at the bar. A pair of older women stepped away, each holding a beer bottle. She took a moment to scan the crowd while waiting for the bartender. Not a single face was familiar to her, and that was what she enjoyed most. Not that she really knew anybody around Hollow’s Creek or even Sequoia, but it felt nice being invisible even if only for a night out on her own. She enjoyed new faces and speaking to people she may never see ever again.

  As she had that thought, she felt a brief ache in the pit of her stomach. She missed home. Even if it had only been a couple months since she left New Mexico, everything was so new to her in Colorado.

  The man standing behind the bar looked rough. He was young, but wisdom glowed in his eyes. The collar of his light blue shirt didn’t hide the old, faded tattoo on his neck all that well. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and he wore a leather cuff on his wrist. A feather earring dangled from one ear.

  He looked her over when he approached but didn’t ask for ID. A ghost of a smile appeared on his face. An elongated fang appeared to press against his lip, and she looked with a double-take, but it faded. The bartender raised his voice over the band as they played, music floating to the high ceiling beams above. “What’s your poison tonight?”

  “Let me get a bourbon and coke. With lime.” It only took the bartender a few moments to make her drink. He finished with a lime wedge, piercing the fleshy fruit against the brim of the glass, and slid the glass across the bar to her.

  She thanked him and lifted the glass for a drink before lowering herself from the stool. She started across the room, meeting a pair of eyes that instantly drew her attention. A sense of déjà vu washed over her, looking into his pale green eyes. Mesmerized, she stopped in her tracks, but like a snap of fingers, she returned to the moment. Music floated through the air. Hypnotic melodies weaved through the small crowd, sweeping over her.

  She brought the brim of the glass to her lips for a drink and stepped closer to the stage. She looked up at the band, her gaze fixed on the frontman moving with the beat of the drums. The pulse of the bass pumped from the speakers. She closed her eyes and began to gyrate, moving her hips with the beat as she took another drink from her glass.

  Before long, the alcohol buzzed through her mind. The night grew old, and Charlotte went back to have a seat at the bar. Many people had already left for the night, but a few were still scattered throughout the cavernous room. Beads of perspiration ran down the sides of the glass of ice water on the bar. She lifted it for a drink. With a glance at the clock hanging over the liquor shelves, she knew she’d better leave soon.

  “Mind if I have a seat?” said an unfamiliar voice. Charlotte lifted her eyes to meet a pair of intense, pale eyes. A shadow of darkness flickered in his gaze. His raven hair was slicked back with grease, and he wore a black button-down shirt, a pair of old faded slacks, and scuffed boots.

  “Not at all, stud,” she said. She took a large drink of water and placed the glass back down. A smile cracked across his face. He removed his leather jacket and let it fall on to the stool.

  “What’s a gorgeous girl like you doing here all alone?”

  Charlotte glanced back up at him and let out a gentle laugh. “How do you know I’m here alone?”

  “I didn’t, but you just confirmed it,” he said.

  “Oh…shit. I guess I did.” She shrugged. “You caught me. Can’t a girl have a drink or two on her night off?”

  “Nobody said you couldn’t.” A ghost of a smile appeared at the corner of his lips. He glanced at the bartender who brought him a glass of what appeared to be a dark red wine.

  “I’m not alone now, am I?”

  “This is so,” he said. “So, what’s your name, beautiful?”

  “Charlotte. And what about you, stranger?”

  “Charlotte? What a beautiful name. Classic. How about you just call me stranger?”

  She let out a giggle and reached for the glass of water sitting in front of her, taking a drink. This stranger gestured to her glass and asked if he could buy something stronger. Charlotte knew she should just decline the offer, but she wasn’t quite ready to head home. The stranger told the bartender to bring her whatever she wanted, and she ordered the first of multiple bourbon and cokes.

  Charlotte shifted beneath the sheets, stretching her legs across the length of the bed. The morning sun splashed across her face, and the pounding ache in her temples became more vicious as she woke. She curled up and grabbed a pillow to snuggle up with, but something didn’t seem right. She shot up, sheets falling from her body, struggling to open her eyes as the world spun around her. Everything was blurry, but she knew she wasn’t in her own room.

  “Where the fuck am I?” she wondered aloud. She had no idea where she was or whose bed she had woken up in. She glanced around the room, her vision still blurry with sleep. None of her surroundings seemed familiar. She lay back down and stared up at the ceiling. A wave of nausea flowed through her, and she lifted her hands to cover her face.

  After gathering herself, she slowly sat up in bed and scooted over to the edge. She still struggled to open her eyes, her head screeching with pain. The sunlight pierced through her head. She slipped from the cocoon of sheets and rose. Her clothes were scattered carelessly across the floor of what seemed to be a decent motel room, where she found her bra snapped in two. She remembered how he whispered sweet things in her ear, referring to her as his dark beauty. She even remembered how easily the fabric of her bra ripped from her body as he tore it in half to reveal her full breasts, but the rest was foggy and dark. How much alcohol did she have the night before?

  Upon reaching the bathroom, Charlotte flipped the switch and walked in. The mirror was foggy with condensation, but she could still see the tangled mess of her hair. For a moment, she tried to recall the night before and who she ended up spending her night with. She didn’t even remember what he looked like. Her inner thighs still sticky from the night before, and she debated a shower, but she just wanted to go home and started to gather her things.

  She found her purse sitting on a chair in the corner. Immediately she snapped it open, digging through the contents. She counted her cards and the cash stuffed into her wallet. Her cellphone was nearly dead when she checked it to find a missed call from Michael. She rolled her eyes, hoping she wouldn’t have to deal with that later. Her keys were stuffed into one of the pockets. Relief washed over her. She dug a hair tie from the void of her purse and threw her hair into a ponytail.

  Charlotte then gathered her clothes and dressed quickly. She left her bra behind, finding it near the foot of the bed, snapped in two. After a final survey of the room, she slipped out the door. Her truck was nowhere to be seen, so she called a rideshare to take her back to the bar. Thankfully her truck was still waiting in the parking lot.

  On her way home, she stopped to grab some lunch as her stomach grumbled lo
udly. She fought a wave of nausea, gobbling down the greasy food. When she pulled into the driveway, nobody was home. She grabbed her things and headed inside. Jack greeted her with a loud vibrating trill, and she headed upstairs to her room. She finished her lunch and slipped out of her clothes.

  Before heading out to the hallway, she turned to her stack of boxes and moved a few. She opened a box labeled books and sifted through the pile until she found one to read. She tucked it under her arm and disappeared down the hallway to the bathroom.

  The tap squeaked when she turned the knob. As the water grew hotter, steam began to rise from the tub, and she plopped the plug into the drain. She reached for a bottle sitting on the nearby ledge and poured some of the pink, sparkly liquid into the water. Bubbles soon grew. The scent of strawberries quickly filled the bathroom. She stepped into the tub and shut off the water, leaning back against the edge. Her red toes peeked from the bubbles. She closed her eyes and draped her arms over the sides, letting her mind drift away. The floaty feeling of the hangover had nearly vanished.

  As she lay there, enjoying the warmth of the tub, she thought of the last couple weeks. She found herself wondering about Adrian and Rob down in Santa Fe. She even thought of Julian, but she quickly pushed thoughts of him away. She missed her old life back in New Mexico. A part of her even ached for that life again, but things were starting to return to a new kind of normal. She was just trying to figure out what normal meant because lately, that seemed to be sex with strangers and nights at the bar.

  She leaned her head back, pushing the thought from her mind. The water was cooling down, but it was still warm enough to soothe her worries. She focused on her breathing. Before long, her eyes felt heavy, and she started to drift.

  She stumbled across a path in the woods she didn’t know. The darkness draped over her like a familiar friend, and she followed the path before her. Charlotte lifted her eyes and looked up at the dark sky overhead. The stars twinkled, and the moon was only a sliver of silver, barely enough to guide her way through the trees.

  The birds had long since silenced their musical choir, but she heard the lonely hoot of an owl nearby. She searched for him in the trees but couldn’t see him. She continued walking.

  A gentle gust of air brushed past her. Suddenly, she didn’t feel so alone anymore, and it wasn’t the owls. Charlotte whipped her head around. Someone had moved past her, but all she saw were shadows. She scanned through the darkness and through the branches of the trees. A pair of glowing eyes revealed themselves just beyond her. The dark betrayed her, for she couldn’t distinguish between it and her stalker. Her heart thumped harder in her chest.

  “Charlotte,” a voice whispered. “I know you. Embrace yourself, Charlotte. I can feel it inside of you…I can see your darkness. It’s what you are, and you cannot be rid of what flows through your veins.” Another gust of wind brushed past her. The glowing red eyes in the tree faded away with the voice. “It’s who you are.”

  Water splashed over the edges of the tub when Charlotte woke with a jolt. She could still hear the voice in her mind. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she looked around the bathroom. She was still in the tub, and Jack sat on top of the toilet. “Just a dream,” she whispered to herself.

  Water dripped from the faucet. Most of the bubbles were already dissolved in the lukewarm water. Her fingers and hands were more wrinkled than raisins. She rose from the water and stepped out onto the bathmat, pulling a towel from the rack. Goosebumps rose on her bare skin as she ventured down the hall to her room.

  Jack followed, slipping through the cracked door. She tossed the towel aside and grabbed a bottle of lotion, sitting on the edge of the bed. She took her time, starting by rubbing lotion on her legs, making her way up to her thighs. Her hands stalled.

  “What…the fuck?” she said with a soft voice. There was a mark on her inner thigh, and she stared long and hard. The bruise was a dark purple against her pale skin. She traced the abnormal shape with her finger, wondering how she didn’t notice the bruise before when she was in the tub. Looking closer, she noticed a pair of puncture wounds with dry blood around the rims, and it appeared fresh. That was the most puzzling of it all. Such fresh wounds she should have noticed sooner. Blood should have been in the bathwater, but all she remembered was bubbles.

  She pushed aside her thoughts and went back to lathering on more lotion, making her way up her body. She found another bruise against her left breast, but it was much darker than the one on her thigh. The mark appeared almost black against her pale breast; she was just able to make out the puncture wounds.

  Where had she acquired not one but two bite marks so deep they made bruises? Something had bitten her, but she didn’t remember what or even when. For a moment, she even wondered if the bruise were there earlier that morning as she dressed to leave the motel. She couldn’t remember seeing them then either.

  She tossed the lotion aside and grabbed her robe, heading down the hall to grab something for the bites. She found a tube of aloe vera gel and rubbed some on before going back to her room. She shut the door and crawled into bed, curling up with one of her pillows. Before long, she drifted off to sleep again with Jack beside her.

  When she woke from her nap, the day was growing old, and shadows extended across the yard. She stared out the window, listening to the rise and fall of an axe against a log outside. She rose from the bed and peeked out the window to see both her dad's car and her uncle Jimmy's truck sitting in the driveway. After dressing in a pair of sweats, she made her way outside and around the side of the house.

  The chilly air flipped through her hair. There was a nice pile of split logs set off to the side, just a few feet from the pile of logs. “Hi, Dad. What’re you doing here?”

  “Hey, sweetheart. I just came by to see you. And your grandparents. Leila,” he said as he brought the axe down onto another log, “is inside the house.”

  “And Rachel?”

  “She’s at home. Been dealing with allergies with all this wind and rain we been getting lately.” He looked up at the sky as the wind blew through the air, and Charlotte turned her head to see the large dark cloud floating in the sky, slithering around the mountain peaks not far away. “Looks like snow might be visiting us tonight.”

  “You think it’ll be bad?”

  “Could be. The weatherman said it looked like some heavy moisture was coming.” He set the axe down beside the woodpile and pulled the tarp back into place. The axe slipped to the ground beneath the blue tarp. Adam grabbed an armful of the split logs. “Help me bring these in the house.”

  Charlotte did as he asked and stacked a pile in her arms as her dad head toward the house. She nearly ran into Leila when she stepped through the front door, tightening her arms around the pile. She yelled out an apology and dropped the pile by the fireplace before heading back outside to grab another stack, taking that one to the porch.

  After the last of the split logs were added to the pile on the porch, she went back into the house, and Jack appeared out of nowhere. He curled up against her ankles, yelling up at her. He only became noisier, trying to get Charlotte’s attention. “I’ll feed you in a minute, buddy.”

  He yowled impatiently as she grabbed a can of cat food and filled his bowl in the corner. She then went back downstairs to join the rest of the family. Dinner would be served shortly, and the warm aromas from the kitchen floated through the air. Charlotte stuck her head through the kitchen doorway to find her grandmother standing over a large pot sitting on the stove.

  “What are you making, Grandma?” she said. She stepped over to investigate the pot as her grandmother lifted the lid to cover the contents.

  “Don’t you worry, Charlie. It will be ready in another fifteen minutes. There’s some lemonade in the fridge. Your sister made it earlier.”

  Charlotte stepped into the kitchen and grabbed a glass from the cabinet, filling it with lemonade. By the time she set the pitcher back into the fridge, it was already half empty. Sh
e then left the room to wait for dinner.

  Dinner consisted of potato soup with chicken, corn, and a few jalapenos. Freshly baked rolls sat in a basket in the middle of the table with a small dish of butter nearby. Everyone sat and enjoyed their meal; even the sour look on Jimmy’s face disappeared moments after he had a few spoonfuls of dinner.

  Charlotte caught his gaze a time or two, and he didn’t look at all hateful tonight, but he didn’t look friendly either. For a moment, she wondered if tonight would be the best time to ask about her biological parents. Their image had not left her mind since she came across their photo. With her birthday only a couple of weeks away, she wanted to know where she came from.

  After dinner finished, Charlotte and Leila helped clean up the kitchen. Their grandmother filled a few containers to take leftovers home. A fire was burning in the hearth by the time they made it to the living room. Jack was curled up as close to the roaring fire as he could get, curled into a ball. Her grandfather reclined in his seat with the remote clutched tightly, scanning through the channels and looking for something to watch.

  “Grandpa, stop going so fast,” Leila said.

  “I’m looking for a movie.”

  “Then go to that channel, Dad,” Adam said.

  “I dunno how,” he said. Leila placed her glass down on the coffee table and rose from her seat, Uncle Jimmy moving out of her way. The screen went from flipping obnoxiously fast to a menu with a listing of channels. Leila returned to her seat. “Well, lookit that! Ronnie! Did you see what Leila did? She fixed the TV.”

  “I didn’t know it was broken?” Grandma said, walking into the living room to join the rest of the family. Jimmy snickered. “Get your shoes off my coffee table, James. I forgot my water.”

  Jimmy rose from the couch and went to grab his mother’s water. Everyone, including Charlotte, was curled up in front of the television when he returned, but Jimmy didn’t go back to his seat. Instead, he went back down the hall and out the front door. The screen door slammed against the house with a gust of wind, cold air sneaking into the house.