Vampire - Child of Destiny (Vampire Series Book 2)

by Mitchell, Charmain Marie

  Mary pushed herself up from the leather chair; walked to the fireside, threw on a couple of logs, and then ambled over to the window. She saw a shadow out of the corner of her eye, but ignored it. Instead, her thoughts lingered on her love life, or lack of. When the shadow moved closer, she turned and shouted angrily at the air,

  "And how am I meant to meet a man when I have you lot trailing behind me the whole bloody time?"

  Grabbing her cup, she slammed out of the study, and made her way towards the kitchen. The shadow didn't follow.

  Mary inhaled deep breaths in an attempt at calming herself down. By the time she had entered the kitchen she had succeeded, well almost. She looked up at the clock and winced; Dawn, her grandmother's daily cleaner would arrive soon, and although Mary didn't really need her services, she was loath to let her go. Dawn had worked for Victoria for thirty years, she was part of Mary's home, and she and the gardener Dan were the only company Mary had on a daily basis. They were part of her life in the cottage, always had been, and as far as she was concerned, always would be.

  Mary knew that Dawn would moan if she found her dressed in pj's, and wearily walked back into her bedroom and got dressed in old jeans, and an over-sized warm jumper. Just as she had finished dressing she heard the back door slam, and she felt her spirits lighten at the thought of exchanging a few words with Dawn.

  "Hello, my sweetheart,” Dawn said as Mary walked into the kitchen, "You alright, my lovely?"

  "Yes I'm okay. I got soaked in that downpour earlier, and got a bit irritated about it, but I'm fine now."

  Dawn looked towards Mary, her eyes narrowing slightly.

  "Why didn't you take the car, love?" she asked casually.

  "I've decided to start walking...I need to shift some pounds, but I won’t be doing that again in a hurry."

  "Oh dear, Mary, you do get some strange ideas in your head, you do. You don’t need to lose weight! Tell you what, I'll make us a cuppa before I get on...How does that sound?" Mary nodded in agreement, pulled out one of the chairs surrounding the table and flopped down onto it with a sigh.

  After placing a cup of hot tea in front of Mary, Dawn placed her own on the table, pulled out a chair and said, "What’s up, love, cos it looks like it's much more than just getting wet."

  Mary didn't say anything for a moment. She then answered, her voice sad, "I feel like my life's going nowhere, my writing is crap, I have no friends, I've never had a relationship...and I have...well I have other problems."

  Dawn frowned. What other problems? she thought. Instead she said, "You're the only one who can change all of that, love, you know that, don't you? Your gran would have told you that if she was here."

  Mary nodded in agreement. But she didn't know, nobody knew! she silently shouted. Gulping down the last of her tea, Mary started to rise, but Dawn halted her progress by placing her hand on her arm.

  "But it's more than that, isn't it, love?" Can I tell her, will she think I'm crazy? Mary thought.

  "You wouldn't believe me if I told you, Dawn," she said with a sigh.

  "Well why don't ya try me and find out...it can't be that bad, love."

  It is! She'll think I'm mad! she screamed to herself.

  Her troubles rushed briefly through her mind, and she knew, just as Dawn had stated; that she was the only one who could change it all. Maybe, that change started with her admitting her problem.

  "My sweet…?" Dawn asked, trying to shake Mary from the thoughts that had silenced her.

  It's now or never, Mary thought and glanced up at Dawn's concerned face. She then dropped her head, and mumbled in a husky whisper, "I see dead people!"

  Chapter Two

  "Well I never! She always said you could...but you know what she was like, the woman believed in magic, for heaven’s sake. She would've loved this, been her high delight it would have been..."

  Mary watched, dumbfounded, as Dawn laughed.

  "Did you hear what I said?" she asked, her voice high-pitched and squeaky.

  "Yes, of course I did…" Dawn answered, a hint of laughter still vibrating in her voice.

  "But I don't understand...What's...Well, what is so funny?" Mary snapped.

  Dawn paused, realising Mary was far from happy at what she had just heard. She then clasped Mary's hand in her own and said, "Your gran, love, she knew you had the gift. She'd mention it to me often, telling me how you followed after her own mother. She said one day you would admit it, and until you did, you would never move on with your life...She was a clever woman, you know…not much passed her by, did it?"

  They knew! All those years of thinking she was a lunatic, of thinking that people would think she was crazy, and all the time they knew!

  Mary pushed back her chair and abruptly stood. She was angry, she was more than angry, she was fuming.

  "Well I'm glad you think it’s funny, because I DON'T! All the years I thought I was mad, and it turns out...Oh my God! It turns out that you both knew..." Mary paused in the middle of her rant. Her eyes were wide, and she was trembling and frantically hyperventilating.

  "Now, love, don't be silly now. Your gran said you needed to admit it to yourself and..."

  "And what… She was wrong…I needed support," Mary said, and throwing her hands up in the air she started to move towards the door.

  "Do you ever talk to her?"

  Mary stood stock still in the doorway. Slowly, she turned towards Dawn, tears streaming down her face.

  "No, no I don't...and that is what so annoying...The one person I want to talk to, and I can't! It stands to reason really, I'm a failure at everything, including talking to dead people!"

  Dawn stumbled from her chair and pulled Mary into her arms. "Don't say that...don't ever say that, you're not a failure, you're wonderful...oh my poor, poor, girl." Mary clung onto Dawn's warm, plump body, her tears running freely, soaking the older woman’s shoulder.

  "There, there...stop the tears now...come on, stop it...you'll be making yourself ill, you will."

  Dawn pulled her towards the table and after pushing her back into a chair, grabbed some paper kitchen roll and put the kettle back on. Handing the kitchen roll, which served as a make-do hankie, to Mary, she said, "So why now, love...why tell me now? I mean after all these years, there must be a reason?"

  Mary blew her nose and wiped her eyes. Why now? She repeated the question silently to herself. She thought she knew why, but even so, it didn't make sense to her. How many times had she been visited by lost souls? Souls crying out for help, help that she didn't know how to give, and wasn't sure even if she did know, if she would. She hated her visitors, and whenever possible she had always tried to ignore their presence. She had always hoped that if she ignored them long enough they would, in the end, get the message and finally leave her alone. Nevertheless, her strategy had never worked, and the spirits still glided into her life without as much as an invitation or a by your leave.

  Memories of childhood engulfed her. Visions of a small child, her head buried deep in a hot quilt, and her mouth urgently whispering the Lord’s Prayer in an attempt to stave off the dreaded spirits. So very afraid to glimpse over the edge of the suffocating quilt, because she knew the faces of the dead waited, their eyes pleading for attention, attention that she was afraid to give.

  She knew! she silently shouted in disbelief.

  She was so angry at the fact that her grandmother had known, and more than angry, she was resentful. Night after night she had suffered without sleep, fear controlling her mind and body. She had refrained from making friends and having a boyfriend, and all because she was certain they would think she was crazy if they discovered her secret. But, to discover her grandmother suspected she was able to communicate with the dead. To realise, that she had experience of the paranormal via her mother, Mary's great grandmother, and that she could have given her advice and support in dealing with her fears. This realisation shook Mary to her very core, and in doing so made her doubt the relationship they shared. She
shook her head, pushing away her doubts, because if she lost faith in their relationship, she lost faith in everything she had ever known, and she just couldn't face that.

  She returned to the question, why now? After all this time; why had she confided in Dawn? Something had changed. She couldn't quite fathom what; not yet at least, well, apart from the spirit which had appeared yesterday. It was like nothing she had ever witnessed before, and she knew, deep down, that this time she couldn't ignore the plea for help.

  "Mary...Are you okay?" Dawn asked her, concern apparent in the quiver of her voice.

  "Yes...yes, of course I am. Sorry. I was miles away." Mary smiled up at Dawn, and took a sip of her hot sweet tea, hoping it would reassure the older woman that she was okay. Instantly, Mary saw the frown fade from Dawn’s worried brow, and a sweet smile of relief replacing it.

  "Oh, my dear girl, I was a little worried for a while there...so will you tell me why you decided to admit to um...your...um…gift…at this particular time?"

  "A spirit visited me last night, Dawn...He was so very scared. He was like a whirlwind, he confused me by how fast he spun, and I got the impression, although he didn't say it, that he had died violently." She paused, once more looking up at Dawn, who was holding her hand to her mouth in shock.

  "I found it difficult to understand him...but I did get one word, a word he shouted over and over." Mary paused again, she then continued in a tiny whisper, "Kate, he called for Kate!"

  Dawn sharply inhaled a startled gasp, "Do you think he meant Kate...you know, our Kate?"

  "I don't know...But, I tried to call this morning and her mobile went to voicemail. I left a message, and I've left three more since, but she hasn't called back, and it's not like her. I know it's ridiculous, because it might have nothing to do with Kate, but I think I need to go to London, I need to see her."

  "Yes, yes, love I think you do. It's probably nothing, like you said. But even so, a trip to London will put your mind at ease, and I think it will do you good to take a holiday, have a little fun..."

  Rising from the chair; Mary said, her voice nervous, "I'm going to go, I'm gonna get packed and set off before I can change my mind." Before Dawn was able to answer, she ran from the kitchen, up the stairs, and shouted back, "Call me a taxi, please."

  Chapter Three

  Mary quickly found a seat on the train and slumped down with a sigh. Her heart thumped hard in her chest from rushing around in preparation for the stay at Kate's. Well, she hoped she was going to be able to stay at Kate's, she still hadn't managed to get through to her, and her concerns were growing.

  Feeling hot and bothered, Mary shrugged off her coat, and placed it on the rack overhead which also held her holdalls. She knew why she felt hot and bothered, it was the thought of entering London - she hated the place. The crowds of nameless people and spirits, pushing and shoving, it overwhelmed her, and made her feel claustrophobic and breathless. She found it embarrassing that she had, in the past, talked to spirits thinking they were alive and normal, only to realise that she was in fact talking to a dead person. More than once she had wanted to run away, when spectators to the event, as there were on several occasions, started to snicker and point at her, obviously thinking she was completely deluded.

  However, this wasn't the only reason. More than anything she was nervous at the thought of mixing with Kate's friends. For the most part Mary found them to be pompous, ignorant, and egotistical. She knew they only talked to her because they hoped she could further their career. However, when they realised she couldn't, they would promptly walk away, leaving her without concern or apology. She had on several occasions remarked to Kate on the shallowness of the company she kept. Kate would just laugh and say, "Oh, Mary, you need to get a thicker skin, it’s not about you, it's just the way it is, it's called networking."

  "I'm not stupid!" Mary would snap, "But is there a need to be quite so rude and ill mannered?" Kate would often shrug her shoulders and say, "It's the world I live and work in, Mar..."

  Mary knew that after taking over her father’s business of being an agent to the rich and famous, Kate, in fact, had no other choice but to associate with the rabble (Mary's name for Kate's associates and friends), and sometimes she felt guilty for her criticism of them. She knew that Kate was sometimes hurt by her remarks, she could tell by the expressions on her face, and she was certain that Kate thought that she was criticising her career. Several times, Mary had tried to rectify this by adding that she knew Kate wasn't like them, but she just didn't like the crowd Kate hung out with. Mary, however, wasn't very good at expressing herself, especially under pressure, and so she normally ended up sounding even more scathing and dismissive of Kate's work than she did previously.

  Trying unsuccessfully to snuggle down further into the unyielding chair, Mary looked around the carriage. It was empty. The one person other than her, who had been seated in the carriage when she had entered at Petersfield, got off a couple of stops later, which meant that Mary had the carriage to herself. She therefore hoped that no one else would enter, but knew that it was unlikely, so she closed her eyes and enjoyed the peace while she could.

  Her eyes were only closed for about five minutes when she felt an overwhelming sense of rage enter. The hairs on the back of her arms and her neck stood on end, and her heart started to beat wildly in response to the presence. Mary spun around, trying to see the entity, but panicking because she couldn't see the spirit. The malice that engulfed her was almost palpable and her body shivered in fear in response to the entity.

  Suddenly she was shoved with extreme force into the back of the chair, her arms held firmly in place by the invisible enemy.

  "Leave...go home...go home...go home, go home, go home, go home, gogogogoGOGOGOGOGOGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO."

  The high pitched scream echoed with needle-sharp pain in Mary’s ears. She wanted to wrap her arms around her head; but was unable to, due to the spirit’s weight bearing down on her body holding her in place. Oh my God! she silently screamed, unable to shout due to the pressure on her chest. What is it, oh dear God, what is it?

  "Leave, go...I will kill you...go home, go home, gogogogoGOGOGOGOGOGOGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO."

  Over and over the bellowing rant engulfed her senses, drowning her mind and body in its icy cold grip. Mary felt her mind descending into a black hole, spiralling down, down into an abyss that she struggled against, but couldn't climb out of, and the only escape was to give in and allow it to consume her.

  <<<<>>>>

  She's running along a sandy beach, the warm breeze tugging gently at her long dark hair, lifting it and caressing her long neck like a lover’s kiss. She laughs in abandonment and it's a sound filled with joy and wonder. Suddenly the magical scene is shattered by the bellow of a gruff voice. The girl turns sharply. She's afraid of the man, and although she knows him well - he stalks her day and night. She turns reluctantly from the water’s edge and starts to trudge back towards him. The key in her mind turns the lock inside her prison, the fun is gone, and once again she returns to a place that for her is hell - a place no child should inhabit.

  <<<<>>>>

  Mary gasps for breath as she rises up from the abyss into which she had fallen. Forgetting that she is, in fact, on a train, she jumps up off the seat and then suddenly falls back, unsteady on her feet from the lurching of the carriage.

  "What was that?" she whispers to the empty space, but of course, no one answers. She quickly scans the now sterile and empty carriage, the air is still, and there is no sign of the menacing intruder.

  Closing her eyes, she leans back against the scratchy textured fabric of the chair, a breath escaping her lips in a long, drawn-out sigh.

  "We are approaching Woking station. Please stay in your seats until the train stops."

  The unnatural sounding train voice startles Mary, and she feels her heart speed up, and places her hand to her chest to still the rapid beating. What’s happening to me? she silently asks. Fear and trepidation
concerning this new and unknown element of her 'gift', alarms her, and now more than ever she inwardly raves against the curse.

  Raking her hands through her hair, she tries to steady her nerves.

  "Bloody hell! Get a grip!" she mutters irritably to herself as she stands up and pulls the two large holdalls off the overhead rack in preparation for leaving the train. The next stop being Clapham Junction, the change she needs to make in order to get to Victoria Station, which was just a few minutes’ walk from Kate's apartment.

  Well, let's hope I make it to Kate's without the added bonus of thousands of ghosts, her inner voice shouts, and in one piece would be even better, she adds scathingly.