Deamhan Chronicles, Books 1-5: Deamhan, Kei. Family Matters, Dark Curse, Maris. The Brotherhood Files, Ayden. Deamhan Minion

by Isaiyan Morrison

  Veronica recognized her as the woman at Nathan’s sanctuary but before she could say anything, her eye lids grew heavy and she drifted into darkness.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Veronica slowly opened her eyes.

  Her hazy vision didn’t clear after she blinked a few times. When it came into focus, it triggered her nightmarish attack in the alley.

  She recalled the vivid attack and her rescue by the Deamhan woman she and Sean had seen in Blind Bluff Manor.

  Sean!

  She lifted her head from two satin pillows. Still attempting to focus her sight, she raised her body slowly, placing her feet on the edge of the bed. She touched her neck and felt the two puncture wounds covered by a cotton bandage.

  A cold breeze blew in from a paned window covered with maroon drapes. She shivered and rushed across the room and closed the window, watching the movements of the drapes slowly come to a stop.

  Maroon wallpaper with gold etched designs of baby dragons covered the walls from the ceiling to the floor. A small chandelier with four electric candles hung from the ceiling. An old Captain’s chair (also decorated with gold dragon designs) and a Japanese soju screen sat across the room in the corner. On the Captain’s chair rested a black shirt and large black pants that Veronica immediately dressed in.

  She stood in front of a long mirror, leaning against the wall next to the soju screen. She peeled back the bandage, viewing the puncture wounds on her neck. She moaned in relief, but this was far from over. She needed to find out how she got here and where “here” was.

  She pulled on the handle to the only door in the room but it didn’t budge. She heard small footsteps of someone pacing back and forth outside the door.

  She heard a click and the door swung gently open.

  No one was there.

  She looked behind her and jumped, bemused to find an African American teenage girl. The girl stared back at her with arms crossed. Her brown eyes slowly studied Veronica from head to toe. Dressed in tight fitting black jeans and a white tank top, she brushed her shoulder length dreadlocks over her shoulders.

  “So, you’re the human everyone’s talking about.”

  Veronica stepped back. At first she feared the teen, suspecting her to be a Deamhan. But wasn’t it against their Dictum to sire someone at that age?

  “I was told that.” The girl tapped the side of her head. “I can hear you, y’know.”

  She caught herself and covered her mouth (not like it was talking that placed her in her predicament.)

  “I’m Hallie by the way.” The Deamhan teen plopped onto Veronica’s bed. She rubbed her fingers over the cover’s smooth fabric. “You hungry? I can make you something.”

  Veronica respectfully declined. “Where am I?”

  “Blind Bluff Manor.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief, now knowing she was in Blind Bluff Manor and astonished to see that Remy and the mysterious woman weren’t the only Deamhan in the sanctuary. “How did I get here?”

  “Are you sure you aren’t hungry?” she asked again, ignoring the question. “I make a mean peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”

  “No, I’m fine. Where’s Nathan?”

  “Damn, you’re needy.” Again, Hallie ignored Veronica’s question. She stood up and began to straighten the black sheets. “He’s in his study.”

  Dim chandeliers, separated every fifty feet or so on the ceiling with electric candles, gave an almost eerie glow to the hallway.

  Veronica couldn’t help but notice the decorative artifacts sealed behind unbreakable glass coffins and embedded in small square crevasses in the walls. Scrolls still tightened and rolled in their ancient fit, small pottery shards from ancient excavations, swords, books, paintings, personal jewelry; mummified insects and mummified Egyptian cats filled the crevasses. All of it reminded her of her mother, and that still she felt nowhere near close to solving her disappearance.

  She continued to the closed doors ahead with paned windows tinted to keep the sunlight out. She turned the corner, viewing the edge of a huge staircase. She looked back to see if Hallie had followed her. Satisfied, she descended down the stairs. What she saw amazed her. The steep staircase covered with a thick red carpet led to the first floor and to a huge exhibit; a collection that possibly rivaled that of Historical Museums. An artistic painting of an Italian city covered the wall, and it blended with a scenic route of an ancient Roman road.

  At the bottom of the stairs to her left, a bright white light materialized from Nathan’s study. She saw Hallie standing in front of the fireplace and the portrait of Queen Elizabeth. She moved quickly. Veronica walked past the Roman statues and approached the room quietly, again noticing the large, shaded lamps sat in the corners and the granite ceiling. Nathan sat near the fireplace on a leather couch. Across from him was the mysterious Deamhan woman who saved her in the alley.

  They both turned, watching as Veronica entered the room. The woman’s eyes remained glued on her. She wore a long, black dress with dark hair twirled into a tight bun fixed on the back of her head. A black scarf wrapped around her neck with its excess laying across her right shoulder. Her dark brown eyes, which helped her intimidating stare, remained fixed. She looked to be an ancient Deamhan who had seen her share of brutality. Veronica quickly turned back to Nathan, who stood up from his chair and smiled.

  “Hallie told me you weren’t hungry,” he said. Veronica nodded.

  “It’s good to see that you’re doing well.”

  “How long have I been out?” She leaned against the wall, still feeling the Deamhan’s tantalizing stare from her peripheral.

  “Overnight. You’re lucky that Anastasia found you in time.” He looked over to the woman, who slowly turned her attention to him.

  Anastasia. She rubbed the bandage on her neck. “Thank you.”

  Anastasia didn’t respond.

  “I feel like I bruised a couple of ribs.” Veronica rubbed the side of her body. “Who was she, the one that attacked me?”

  “She was one of the Hartley sisters. I believe you met her older sister before.” He stood up from his chair. “They frequented Dark Sepulcher, but that’s all past now.”

  She remembered what the Deamhan said before her fangs burrowed in her neck. She had a history with Anastasia, a history that she became curious about.

  “They attacked you earlier, and it was also Anastasia who thwarted them off that time.”

  She looked back to the mysterious woman who now stared straight ahead at the wall. She didn’t care what motivated the Deamhan woman to save her both times, but only thought about the idea of being protected—and she knew it wasn’t stereotypical behavior of the Deamhan. She began to wonder if living in a sanctuary with a human had anything to do with Anastasia’s human like judgment.

  “Your cell phone was destroyed in the attack,” Nathan continued. “She managed to salvage what she could. Veronica, you have to understand the importance of Sean’s activities and how his relationship with you has caused Lambert to lose his trust.”

  “I understand,” Veronica interrupted him. “I’m completely aware of it.”

  “Are you?” Anastasia’s comment caused them to turn their attention to her. Suddenly Veronica heard the Deamhan’s voice inside her head.

  Don’t confuse my act of kindness to be in your favor.

  “Yes.” Veronica immediately recounted her thought about Anastasia. “It’s just not stereotypical of a Deamhan to—” She quickly glanced at Anastasia whose eyes now locked onto Nathan.

  “This sanctuary isn’t a stereotypical sanctuary,” he said. “But here it is.”

  She made a mental note. There had to be a reason behind why Nathan chose to have Deamhan in his home. But that would have to wait. She wanted to get back to Palm Oaks and now.

  “I have to get back to my apartment.”

  “I don’t think that’s a wise thing to do.”

  “Well, I can’t stay here forever. I’m not afraid. I know the dangers.�
��

  Hallie yawned. “That’s what all the humans say.” She tapped the mantel on the fireplace. “Until they get attacked again.”

  “You’re still a little weak, and your apartment is not a safe place to be,” Nathan said.

  Neither was being in a house with Deamhan, but she saw no choice. Anastasia’s cold stare made her feel unwelcomed. She felt no one, not even Nathan, trusted her.

  “There’s no place in Minneapolis that’s safe for me,” she responded.

  “Of course.” He rose from his chair and walked over to the other side of the room and reached for his phone. “Are you sure?”

  Veronica nodded and she watched him dial a number and place the phone to his ear. She continued to lean against the wall and she waited. The sound of the wood crackling in the fireplace became the only prevalent noise in the room. She looked at Hallie, catching the teen’s blank stare. Her eyes grew stark like Anastasia. Again, she felt the presence of not being wanted in Blind Bluff Manor.

  “I’ve called for a taxi.” Nathan hung up the phone. “Hallie, would you excuse us.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I can hear you anyway.” This time she tapped her ear. “You know, that’s what Deamhan do.”

  Anastasia’s head abruptly turned to Hallie and their eyes locked. Veronica didn’t know why they stared each other down. But Anastasia won and Hallie huffed.

  “I never get to have fun around here.” She stormed out of the room.

  “Sorry about that.” Nathan slowly walked over to Veronica. “Hallie is a new Deamhan, just recently turned. She’s still getting used to her new life as a Metusba.”

  Veronica followed him out of the study and to the foyer. “The cab should be here soon.”

  “I’d like to wait outside if that’s okay?”

  He nodded and unlocked the front door. He opened it slowly, and she stepped out into the cool air. Small patches of ice stippled the mansion’s long driveway. It glittered in the moonlight. In the western horizon the sun had just set and the remaining orange and yellow hues covered the lower half of the sky. Reflection from the recent sun set helped showcase the open areas of land surrounding Blind Bluff Manor. Even the frozen pond in front couldn’t escape its beauty.

  “Why a sanctuary?” She questioned.

  He closed the door behind him and walked past her. “Blind Bluff Manor was never meant to be a sanctuary.” He bent forward, picking up a small reddish pebble from the ground. He examined it before tossing it to join the other gravel on the road. “It was a place to store my research, a place where I could still observe the Deamhan without interfering.”

  “Why not leave Minneapolis and go to a bigger city that has a large amount of Deamhan like New York or Los Angeles?”

  “This is my home.”

  “You must do a lot of research.”

  He nodded. “When I have the time.” Using the railing as support, he carefully stepped down the steps and onto the driveway. “As I’ve mentioned before, my parents were once members. You understand how growing up in a family with a connection to The Brotherhood can become complicated. Unlike you, I actually loved participating in the exploration of the Deamhan. The more time I spent learning the ropes, the more I began to notice the true reason behind the organization and I felt as if I understood Deamhan a little more.”

  They walked across the road and to a small, one lane path that crisscrossed through his entire front driveway.

  “I knew that deciding to stay in Minnesota after the Chapter disbanded was a risky move but I didn’t want to go back to California, not with them. Why would I? They had kicked my family out of the organization, therefore, I was out as well.” He continued with his spiel. “Being here is what fuels me, and I’m lucky to have found this home to suit my needs. It was built as a farm home in the late 1800s. I remodeled it, added some new rooms, and called it Blind Bluff Manor, after a small cabin getaway my parents had in the forests near Portland, Oregon.”

  They passed a small wooden bench covered with a thick blanket of snow.

  She became exceedingly curious about why any Deamhan would come to a human, besides the desire to feed. She also wanted to know what eventually happened to his parents but that was a question for another day.

  She lowered her voice. “How did you manage to get Deamhan staying here? Aren’t you scared they’re going to turn on you?”

  “No. There isn’t a reason to. They came to me on their own.”

  Her body shivered again while she struggled to maintain her warmth.

  “At Dark Sepulcher, you said the woman following you was a minion?”

  Veronica nodded. “I think maybe she is a researcher.” She didn’t want to speculate that the minion belonged to Kei, but he was the only Deamhan that had any reason to be interested in her.

  “Well researchers are easier to find than minions and I doubt she’s a researcher. But I honestly don’t know. Nowadays, minions are everywhere. They’re dangerous than their owners in certain situations.”

  “I guess this whole me-being-protected thing, doesn’t apply to them?”

  “It applies. Only if their Deamhan owners want it to. There are many Deamhan in the city. Either they are loyal to Kei or they hate him.” He pointed to his left wrist. “Kei sends out his minions, and they’re willing to do whatever for him.” He pretended to draw an image on his wrist. “Many of them have a brand or a tattoo that signals that they belong to him.”

  Watching Nathan draw his imaginary tattoo signaled something in her brain. It only took seconds to realize she’d seen it before.

  She didn’t want to believe it. Not him, it couldn’t be.

  “You’ve seen it?” Nathan questioned.

  She nodded, still trying to mentally establish the image.

  “Sean?”

  “No,” she quickly answered. She came to a grisly realization. The scenario, the egregious signs that she ignored . . . She felt mindless to find out only now. Sean did mention Murphy’s quirky behavior and how he was always there when she left or came back to her apartment.

  “What is it, Veronica?”

  “It’s not Sean. It’s someone else.”

  “Who?”

  “I have to get back to my apartment.” Veronica looked at him. “Now.”

  “Is it someone you know?”

  They heard the rough noise of a car engine in the near distance. Nathan hurried back to the front porch. He pressed a button on his voice box to open the gate. “Anastasia could accompany you.”

  “I just need to make sure Sean’s not there.” She didn’t trouble herself with the possibility of her apartment swarming with minions belonging to Kei. They watched the yellow taxi make its way down the gravel road and slowly come to a stop. “I just need to make sure he’s okay.”

  “Veronica—”

  “I have to make sure.” Her mind raced. Any possibility that Murphy was responsible for Sean’s disappearance—it troubled her and it made her mind jump to sordid thoughts.

  “You shouldn’t go back to your apartment alone,” Nathan suggested again. “Let Anastasia go with you. She can protect you.”

  “Would she?” Veronica doubted.

  “Yes she would.” He searched through the pockets and pulled out a small cell phone. “If you find Sean, you both should come back and stay here for the night.” He handed her the phone. “Are you sure you want to go by yourself?”

  “No.” She wasn’t sure of anything, except for finding Sean. The consequences of going back alone, especially with Murphy being a minion and Sean working for The Brotherhood, didn’t cross her mind. The taxi pulled up in front of the door, and she quickly jumped in, not looking back at Nathan as the car drove down the gravel road.

  Nathan sighed, knowing that there was nothing he could do but let her go on her own. When the taxi was out of distance, he turned back, seeing Anastasia standing in the doorway.

  “She shouldn’t have left on her own,” he said solemnly.

  Barefoot, Anastasia
stepped on the snow and it crushed beneath her feet. “The snow is rough today.” Her soft voice carried in the air. She looked at her feet. A brief gust of cool wind lifted her long black dress. “I want to explore it.” She stepped forward and she tilted her head slightly. “Would you like me to follow her instead?”

  “I’ve never asked you to do anything that you don’t want to do.” He looked at her. “However, I am asking you to do this.”

  “You can’t make me do anything I don’t want to do.” She adjusted the red scarf around her neck.

  “Of course.” He waited for her next move. Living with Deamhan long enough, he quickly learned that haste wasn’t a viable Deamhan trait. But Anastasia wasn’t like any Deamhan he knew or researched about. Somehow, over centuries, she relearned trust and loyalty. After hearing about Lucius’ disappearance, she arrived in Minneapolis and made her way to Blind Bluff Manor, thinking that The Brotherhood, he specifically, was behind it. With her hands wrapped around his throat and her fangs extended, he opened his mind to her in trust and as a favor, she spared his life.

  Besides sensing resentment for her own kind and The Brotherhood, he also saw her loyalty for Lucius. She would lay down her life for him without a thought and she hated Kei as much as most Deamhan hated him. However, she didn’t have the following to kill him but she had the age and strength. Since then, she remained at Blind Bluff Manor, carefully observing Kei and his followers from a distance. She was the first Deamhan to live in his home and the only Deamhan Nathan trusted at that time.

  “She’s in danger, Anastasia.”

  “She’s a hardheaded human. But, if I do follow her, you know what I might have to do.”

  He nodded.

  “There will be killing involved.” A faint smile appeared on her face.

  “I know.”

  She took two steps and in Deamhan speed she ran down the gravel road, disappearing from his sight.