by Karen Glista
Torin growled, his anger supreme. He raced toward him like a projectile missile, sword firm in his muscled grasp. He slammed into Scarface, the impact snapping his blade. Rolling away he was a bit stunned, but not so much that he failed to notice Scarface’s shocked demeanor. Torin locked his gaze upon him and then to his surprise, watched as Scarface dug six inches of his broken sword from his chest and tossed it away.
Torin sprang to his feet. “He’s weakening! Step it up! Give him hell!”
From every direction, Affiliates attacked like a swarm of bees pummeling his body.
Scarface threw his head back and howled like a wounded animal and in that moment, amid the incessant chants of the Midewiwins, a great turbulence swept the land, bodies flying like thistles in the wind.
Torin slammed into a rocky outcropping, then scrambled to his feet, wind-laced snow, obscuring his vision. He wiped at his bloody face, winds howling as six ghostly apparitions appeared overhead, drifting toward the fire circle.
Scarface, besieged by Affiliates, was caught off guard as the spirits, void of earthly features settled upon him. Scarface wailed while flailing his muscled arms, stomping the ground so hard that it trembled.
Torin shielded his eyes, the glare from the faceless six, blinding. They seized Scarface, Midewiwin’s chanting, Affiliates shouting, the cacophony maddening, and in the blinding chaos that followed, unearthly lights breached the heavens penetrating the falling snow.
Scarface fell to the ground, frothy fluid spewing from his lips. The Midewiwin’s held their vigil, casting powder from their medicine bags which sizzled with a putrid smell on his writhing body. Suddenly he began to convulse and then in a shocking display of pulsing light, his body divided into two forms.
Torin gasped and drawing near, he saw that it was the bodies of Zaroc and Scarface. His jaw dropped as a ghostly image rose from between their unconscious bodies.
The Seventh Miigis!
Swooning, with blood trickling his face, Torin watched spellbound as the seventh billowed like rolling gas, then lurched up into the sky.
The Midewiwin’s chants turned legion, arms raised, firelight flickering. They began to dance and from the heavens, powerful winds forced Torin to his knees. He gripped the rocky ground, eyes on the sky, as the six Miigis swarmed the ghostly form of the seventh. The mass of their spiritual bodies lit the sky amid a flurry of wind-driven snow.
Gage, with Antonio at his side, crawled toward Torin. Bound tight with winds whipping they watched as the spiritual six, cordoned the seventh. They began to swirl around him like a cyclonic entity, picking up speed. Suddenly they disappeared, swallowed by the white abyss.
Torin rose, standing beside Gage and Antonio, all eyes on the sky as an eerie silence settled upon them. Suddenly, from within the celestial haze, the wail of a thousand tortured souls forced the earth to tremble. Torin stumbled then fell to a heap as the earsplitting voices reverted into what sounded like wounded animals. He cowered with hands to his ears as a fierce rumbling like chariots of fire breached the sky. Six glowing wraiths appeared, circling a single entity which cried in such a high-pitched voice that boulders shattered, and mountain tops crumbled. The six began to swirl faster and faster around the core middle, drifting out over the gorge. Lighting danced amid falling snow as the spirited bodies like a continuum of light, plummeted to the river below.
Torin jumped to his feet amid gathering Iridescents a thousand-strong. They raced for the ledge as the lights hit the river with such force that a great wall of water, rising like a tsunami, washed over the land. A great screeching echoed the gorge as the Six Miigis pulled the seventh beneath the churning waves.
Torin staggered, Gage at his side, water sheeting off their faces. The winds died down and the snowfall ceased as sunlight breached the sky.
Torin, remembering Anna, broke through the crowd and found Antonio at her side. He watched breathlessly as Antonio pulled her into his arms.
“No,” Antonio moaned, ripping the bandages from her neck. He pulled her to his chest, arms dangling, her body cold. “She has his antigens,” Antonio wailed. “He marked her!”
Torin shook Antonio. “Bite her, damn it, he’s dead and under Council law, you can take possession. Do it! Save her!”
Antonio dropped his mouth, fangs barred, eyes a golden swirl. He bit down and sinking deep, he found her carotid artery. He closed his eyes, his heart pounding as he forced his own blood into her chilled blood. He held the bite, his body temperature soaring to warm her icy skin.
Torin slumped to Antonio’s side just as Anna’s near lifeless body began to convulse. Torin exhaled dramatically, his eyes tight. She began to thrash and then her hands seized Antonio’s arms. He relinquished his bite and pulled back. Her eyes fluttered as he cradled her to his chest.
“It’s okay, Anna,” Antonio whispered, holding her tight, “it’s over. You’re safe.”
“Antonio,” she mused, confusion dancing in her eyes. Her hand found her neck. “He cut my throat. How…”
“It’s healed, I had no choice but to cross you over, and you may hate me for it, but it was the only way to save you.”
“You saved me…I’m an Iridescent?” she whispered searching his face.
“Yes,” he said with misty eyes, “I couldn’t lose you again.”
Anna blinked confusion. “The Midewiwin’s prediction was wrong,” she mumbled under her breath. “I didn’t die in the arms of the seventh, I was born in the arms of his descendant.”
Antonio rose to his feet and offered his hand. Anna took it and he pulled her up into his arms. They fell together in a tight embrace.
“Anna pulled back, staring into his eyes. “He marked me,” she whispered.
“I know,” Antonio said with a bent finger to her cheek, “but that won’t change my heart.”
She hugged him tight, her tears falling.
Torin smiled, his promise to Donja fulfilled.
“Antonio! Larkspur cried hysterically, crouched between Scarface and Zaroc’s lifeless bodies. “Please, save my son.”
Antonino parted the crowd and dropped down beside her and Miguel. He locked his eyes on Zaroc. “I can’t,” he said, “I’m sorry but Marie’s dead and he was part of it. They shared a body and he may have been hostage to that bastard, but he was there, he witnessed her last breath.”
Milos shoved Antonio aside, pulled Miguel into his arms and kissed him passionately. Miguel pulled back with tears in his eyes. “Are you crazy?”
“Yes,” Milos laughed, “crazy enough to steal a kiss.”
“Somebody save him!” Miguel pleaded.
Milos grabbed him again. He kissed him long and hard. Miguel beat his fist on his chest.
“I’ll take that as payment for services rendered, “Milos laughed as he released Miguel. He turned, dropped down and seized Zaroc. He bit into his neck. Roused from death, Zaroc began to struggle.
Milos relinquished his bite, the taste of Zaroc’s blood lingering. He licked his lips and winked at Miguel. “I apologize for my rash behavior but you and Zaroc are the first same sex blood I’ve tasted, and I must say it’s not at all what I expected.”
Zaroc, with Miguel holding him tight, began to quiver. Miguel and Larkspur assisted him to sit up. Confused, he moaned with his hands roaming his face. “What happened?”
“You’re free, my son, finally free,” Larkspur sobbed.
“Free…is it true?” Zaroc whispered. “Is this a dream?”
“You’re not dreaming,” Larkspur sobbed as she stood up revealing Scarface’s dead body behind her. Zaroc locked his eyes on the lifeless corpse. He gasped, then embraced Miguel.
Miguel, with a fleeting glance to Milos, said, “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” Milos smiled. “Sorry that I toyed with you, but it’s my nature, the Russian in me,” he laughed. “For what it’s worth, I wish you both a long and happy life.”
“Let’s go home,” Torin sighed, Donja in his mind. He turned, glancing ov
er the dead that littered the land. “It’s over. It’s finally over!”
~~~
As the noon day sun breached the windows of Hampton Manor, Donja and Makayla sat atop the kitchen island eating chocolate pie. Lisa turned from the sink drying her hands. “Since you’re craving chocolate, I thought I’d bake a Mississippi Mud Cake.”
“Oh, Mom, would you…please,” Donja moaned, stuffing her mouth with pie. “I’ll eat the whole thing.”
Lisa laughed for the first time in forever.
It’s so good to have you back.
She tossed the dishrag to the counter and her demeanor shifted.
Now if Anna would only come home.
“You’d eat the whole cake?” Makayla asked.
“Hey, I don’t know if it’s cravings from my pregnancy or the stress of two days with no word from Torin…”
“Or Gage,” Makayla chimed in.
“Yeah, that too, but anyway, it’s driving me crazy,” Donja said as she picked up her phone, checked it, then lay down with a disappointed sigh.
~~~
Fifty-six miles north of Whitehorse, Torin glanced out the back window of the Suburban, the landscape a blur. Considering that he might finally have a signal, he pulled his Android from his pocket.
Almost three bars, it might work.
Gage, who was riding shotgun in the front seat, turned to face him. They shared a look. “I lost my damn phone.” Gage grumbled.
Torin chuckled. “It’s always something with you, your badge, your keys and now your phone.”
Gage laughed. “Are you calling them?”
Torin hit dial and raised the phone to his ear. “Yeah,” he said praying that Donja was better. It rang.
“Torin!” Donja screamed.
“Hey, baby.”
“Are you oaky?” She screeched.
“I’m fine.”
“Grandma?” She whispered, the word catching in her throat.
“She’s just fine, we’re on our way home.”
Donja burst into tears.
“Don’t cry,” he moaned with his eyes squeezed tight, “and tell Makayla Gage wanted to call her but he lost his phone.”
Donja turned to Lisa and Makayla, hanging on her every word. “Torin and Gage are okay and they have Grandma,” Donja blurted. “They’re on their way home.”
Makayla covered her face, sobbing as Lisa hugged them both from behind.
Donja succumbed to full blown tears, she couldn’t control it.
“I can feel your tears,” Torin said.
“And I know it’s killing you, but they’re tears of joy because I love you.”
“I love you too, baby. You sound so much better.”
“I am,” she sobbed.
“Good, because I need a favor.”
“A favor, what?”
“Well, we won’t be home until tomorrow evening, so I need you and Makayla to go shopping.”
“Shopping. For what?”
“Wedding gowns.”
The White Day
It was a beautiful Saturday with demurred sunlight glistening on icicles that hung from the eaves of Hampton Manor. From atop the snow-covered roof, billowy smoke rose from her chimneys, lighted windows casting a golden glow and at her feet, cars and SUVs dressed in fluffy white, lined the drive. Snowflakes twirled in hushed silence, falling upon thousands of Iridescents nestled upon the bluff overlooking the river. Cameras flashed, cells held high, all eyes upon three couples standing atop a cedar podium with gold candelabras and crystal steins. Atop a bannistered deck a lone Sirun dressed in black with a red hooded cloak stood with his back to the couples. He slowly turned, his face concealed in secrecy and symbolic of the females’ sacrifice, he tossed red rose petals upon each of them as their betrothed Iridescents kneeled before them. The three Iridescent grooms rose to their feet.
Lisa, Carson and Frankie took their places, kneeling before the podium, loving eyes on the couples.
The Sirun spoke, his words all but quieted by the roaring river. “Do you, Donja, Makayla and Anna, submit as consorts, Donja to Torin—Makayla to Gage—Anna to Antonio?”
“Forever,” their voices rang in unison, cameras flashing.
“And do you Torin, Gage and Antonio accept this blood offering, to watch over, honor and protect for eternity?”
“Forever,” they answered with voices resounding.
“By order of the Iridescent Council, I submit unto you, each couple, our blessings. Heed to our laws, bind your hearts as one and let us all, as Radiant Iridescents never forget from whence we came.” He raised his hands to the heavens, his eyes on the swirling abyss. “Bow to the Chippewa!” he roared as the thousands before him kneeled. “Blessed be the Durent Clan.” he said dropping to his knees.
“Blessed be the Durent Clan,” a thousand voices echoed.
Torin raised Donja’s veil, snowflakes swirling around them. They shared a smoldering look as he leaned in to her lips. She closed her eyes, clutching her silk rose bouquet, his kiss so tender. Her heart fluttered, winds whirling, time a blur.
“I love you,” they whispered with voices as tightly bound as their hearts. He kissed her again, long and hard, celebratory cheers rising from the crowd. He swooped her up, her white pearl gown contrasted by his black tux. Her arms encircled his neck and he kissed her a third time, before marching through a sea of bodies to one of three stretched limos. Inside, as the doors closed the cheers of thousands muffled, he pulled her tight as his lips found hers. “I love you, Mrs. Mancini.”
Donja’s tears fell as she cupped his face with icy hands, a twenty-five-carat diamond sparkling.
He pulled her hands to his lips warming them with his breath. “You’re freezing,” he whispered, opening his tux and pulling her in.
“Mmm, and you’re on fire,” she breathed.
The limo lunged forward and safe in his arms she closed her eyes as watercolor memories washed over her. Chill bumps ravished her skin, eyes on a little puppy in her father’s arms, his laughter, St. Joseph, her friends, goth, a Honda Civic and Silver Beach. She snuggled tighter as Torin stoked her hair, her hands roaming beneath his tux. She listened with her cheek tight to his chest, his heart pounding like a million drums.
“Are you happy?” he whispered, leaning tight with his breath warm on her brow.
She snuggled tighter.
“Don’t toy with me, Donja, you know I can’t read your heart.”
She smiled, his heart strumming mercilessly.
“Look at me,” he said and his voice…she couldn’t resist, she never could. She pressed her hands to his chest and rose up, dark locks spilling upon them. She focused on his lips, so thick and moist, his mustache sparking memories of sensations so intense that even now, she shivered. She raised her eyes, instantly weakened by his smoldering gaze, so dark—so dangerously mysterious.
“Answer me,” he pleaded. “Talk to me baby.”
“What?”
He searched her face with hungry eyes that penetrated her soul. Beguiled, she blinked, lashes fluttering. She felt him tremble.
“Are you happy?” he whispered.
She brushed his lips with her own, then pulled back. “Ask me that in a thousand years.”
“A thousand years?” he asked suspiciously as his eyes began to sparkle and a smile spread upon his face. He pulled her tight and as his lips found her own, he whispered.
“I will.”
The End
Thank You!
Thank you so very much for reading Chasing the Red Queen. If you enjoyed this novel, please consider leaving a review at the site from which you purchased it, and telling your friends about it, too. Karen will appreciate it very much! Word-of-mouth and good reviews are critical to new authors.
About the Author
Karen Glista
A simple story-teller, wife, mother, grandmother and friend. When she is not working as a registered nurse in the Great Lakes State or writing, she enjoys family, friends, cooking, cam
ping, canoeing the Pine River, Facebook, gardening, online gaming, reading, good movies, and her flock of chickens. She shares her home in the woods with her husband, two new kittens, Flopsy & Mopsy, and their new puppy, Festus.
For links to her other works and to be notified when new novels are published please like/follow Karen at:
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