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

by Isaiyan Morrison

  She heard Veronica’s cautious footsteps following her and she exhaled an annoying sigh. “Go home, researcher. It’s not safe for you out here.”

  “I know you don’t like me,” Veronica replied. “And guess what. I don’t like you either. But I’m begging you, please tell me where he is.”

  She began to smell the sweet odor of Veronica’s blood exuding from her body. She felt her mouth beginning to water and the urge to feed.

  Veronica quickly walked in front of Anastasia, blocking her path. “Do you really believe that The Brotherhood is just going to let what Selene did slide without getting their revenge? They’re plotting that as we speak. I know they are.”

  She tried to ignore Veronica but the more the human spoke, the more of ‘trying to avoid’ her turned into a chore.

  “What about following Deamhan rules? What about secrecy? Are you just going to throw that away because you want to find the Dark Curse and free the Pure Ones?” Veronica continued to argue. “Do you even know what they are capable of? Have you even heard about the Pure Ones before now?”

  Anastasia moved aside and with her brow scrunched in aggravation. “Go home,” she mumbled.

  Veronica took her chance and remained steadfast in her stance. “The Pure Ones were placed in Limbo for a good reason.” Anastasia attempted to pass her but again Veronica moved in front of her.

  “If you don’t want to end up like your father, I suggest you go back to the Manor,” Anastasia quickly retorted, “because there’s no one around to come to your rescue.” She stepped in closer, smelling Veronica’s salty sweat crystallizing on her chest and forehead.

  “I need to know where my father is.” Her breathing increased while she tried to maintain her posture. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me.”

  A prominent snicker appeared on Anastasia’s face. “You think I’d tell you?” She shifted around Veronica who again positioned herself in her path.

  “Yes. I think you’d tell me.”

  She hastily moved forward and startled by her abrupt movement, Veronica jumped back. “You thought wrong,” she replied in a stone cold voice.

  Veronica continued to move back and she slightly raised her hands. “I know that you’re loyal to Lucius to the point that you’ll follow him into death if you have to but what you’re trying to do...is suicide.”

  Anastasia moved in closer and Veronica backed herself up against a tree, feeling the rigid bark digging into her back. Sweat trickled down the side of her face. “The reason you’re still breathing, human, is because I allow it.” Anastasia pointed at her chest. “My name allows you to live, not your fake protection from Selene or your father’s organization.” She growled and opened her mouth slightly, exposing sharp teeth and fangs that weren’t present seconds before. Her eyes were obscured and her pupils no longer detectable. She slowly backed away and retracted her teeth. “Now, for the last time go home.” Her eyes returned to a normal brownish hue.

  “No,” Veronica whispered.

  Anastasia’s eyes quickly shifted. For a woman whose hatred for her father was well known, she couldn’t understand why Veronica had a sudden change of heart. “If The Brotherhood gives Selene what she wants then your father will be returned safely. If not, he’ll die.”

  “And what about Nathan?” Veronica continued. “He took you in, treated you like his own daughter.”

  “What about Nathan?”

  “He’s with Kyra right now. That’s why he went to Chicago.”

  “You think I don’t know this?” She quickly jerked her head back in Veronica’s direction.

  Veronica’s mouth dropped. “You don’t care about him anymore, do you?”

  Just then the wind picked up, transporting the smell of Deamhan straight to Anastasia’s nose. Her body jittered and she snapped her head to the left, searching the shadows at the end of the street for another Deamhan; Ramanga.

  Seeing that Anastasia went on alert, Veronica turned her attention to the deserted street. The street lights above flickered and she then turned to look to Anastasia who stood in front of her. Her fingers quivered and her back arched while she lowered her stance.

  “Get out of here,” she growled to Veronica.

  Veronica hesitated but she saw slight movement in the darkness and she stepped back. Out of the darkness she saw two Deamhan in midair, launching in their direction. She turned and ran.

  A male Deamhan with tattered clothes and his face smeared with dried blood landed in front of Anastasia. She smelled his horrid Ramanga scent. As his fangs appeared from his gums, she noticed that the right one was missing and his left fang was cut in half.

  He jumped on Anastasia and with all her strength she pushed him to the ground. She turned back, watching the other Deamhan chase Veronica down the street. She turned but felt five claws dig into her lower back. The Ramanga male, now on his feet, sank his fangs into the side of Anastasia’s neck.

  She felt the Ramanga’s fangs penetrate deeper into her flesh as she watched Veronica who ran for her life. She then felt the Ramanga’s cold arms wrap around her waist and slam her to the ground. Now over her, the Ramanga raised his hand to strike but Anastasia moved faster. She placed her hands on the side of his head and with her strength she pulled forward, detaching his head from his shoulders.

  Anastasia kicked the remains away from her before they turned into a pile of blood and dust. She stood to her feet and looked for Veronica, finding her laying on the street, motionless, under a fluttering street light. Her Deamhan attacker crouched over her.

  She jumped. Airborne, her teeth extracted and she growled loudly enough to grab the Deamhan’s attention, giving the rabid beast enough time to throw Anastasia aside. She landed on the grass, sliding a few feet and knocking into the white picket fence of a nearby home. She jumped to her feet and the Deamhan came at her, slashing. Its fingertips nicked across Anastasia’s lips. Quickly she knocked the Deamhan on its back and pinned its shoulders against the sidewalk. The Deamhan snapped at her, its fangs clicking together like high heels moving along pavement.

  Anastasia’s eyes and ears moved to Veronica, her efficacious hearing picking up her faint heartbeat. She turned back to the Deamhan, realizing that the creature had drained Veronica of blood.

  “You’re foolish to come after me,” Anastasia whispered. The creature snapped at her again and Anastasia felt its warm breath on her forehead. She attempted to read its thoughts but she came up with nothing. Agitated, she lifted her hands and clawed at its chest, digging deeper and deeper until she met bone. The Deamhan released an abysmal grunt in pain and its limbs shook. Anastasia continued scraping at its chest. She bit into it and yanked her head back, pulling on flesh until it ripped from its bones. Its blood glissaded down her throat and immediately she felt that the tarnished liquid burning her throat. It would’ve made sense to stop but she continued, thinking about nothing but the massacre carried out by her hands. It was intrinsic and in her nature.

  She continued her rampage until she was covered head to toe in its blood and flesh. Her hands reached its blackened heart and she yanked it out, tossing it to the side. She stood up and stepped back. With Pure blood in her own veins, draining the blood from a Deamhan should’ve given her a palatable feeling, like a high. Instead it made her lightheaded and dizzy. The feeling grew abnormal and her body convulsed, dropping her to her knees.

  Anastasia looked to her hands as if they were going to give her assistance. Never had she felt this atrocious. Something wasn’t right. She looked back at Veronica and contemplated leaving her to die where she laid, but her morality superseded her hunger. She swaggered over to her and lifted her loose body in her arms. Veronica moaned and her eyelids lifted halfway. She moved Veronica’s head to the right, noticing two deep bite marks in her flesh.

  “Don’t worry. I have you.” She held onto Veronica tightly and she took off in Deamhan speed to Blind Bluff Manor.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Remy stood with his hands f
olded, his eyes switching from concern to interest. “So, by feeding from Lucius, you were able to feed on other Deamhan? Well, that’s new.”

  Anastasia continued to stare at Veronica as she lay motionless in her bed, sweat dripping from her brow.

  He examined the two puncture marks on her neck. “His blood is mixed with the blood of a Pure One and still, you still weren’t able to stop a Ramanga from biting her?”

  Hallie walked into the room, cradling a book in her hand. She knelt beside the bed, her eyes also fixated on Veronica. “She looks dead.” Suddenly Veronica’s body quivered and her eyes opened slightly. “Or maybe not.”

  Anastasia leaned against the wall in the corner, looking to the opened window. She wasn’t in the mood to answer any of Remy’s questions; not now. At the moment her main concern was making sure that Veronica survived her attack. Still, she felt her own body reeling from the lack of Lucius’ blood in her system and she shook uncontrollably as her vision began to blur.

  Remy held his head slightly back and sniffed the air. “I can smell their filth all over her.” He touched Veronica’s forehead, feeling the warm sweat on his fingers. “She’s not going to survive the night like this.”

  Anastasia knew what he tried to suggest. “No. You aren’t going to sire her.”

  “We have to do something to keep her stable,” he replied then sneered at Hallie. “I told you to watch her and to make sure she didn’t do anything stupid.”

  “Hey! I couldn’t just keep her here against her will.” Hallie argued back.

  “That’s exactly what you should have done.” He returned his attention to Veronica. “Now look at her. Poor thing. She’s dying.”

  “No one is siring her,” Anastasia objected again. “Why would you want to subject her to that?”

  “To save her life.” Remy snickered.

  “Or maybe you just want to make her Lamia, thinking that she’ll finally accept you.” She jerked her attention toward him with fangs exposed.

  “No need to get sensitive,” he replied as his eyes briefly changed colors.

  She stood down and told herself over and over that she didn’t care about Veronica but that went right out the window. Her concern for Veronica didn’t compare to Remy’s infatuation with her. She saw it now. He tried to love her and he wouldn’t let her die on his watch.

  “I don’t care what you think. She won’t die; not like this.” Remy said.

  “You can’t sire her.” She retracted her fangs.

  Remy squinted at her. “So you’d rather her lay in pain and agony instead of experience the equivalent of a hippie acid trip?”

  “Siring a human is nothing like a hippie acid trip.”

  “How would you know?”

  “Why don’t we just take her to the hospital?” Hallie stood up from her knelt position.

  Anastasia turned to Hallie. “She’s safer here.”

  “Don’t kid yourself,” Remy said back. “Those two Deamhan were after you, not her. If you think she’s safer here with us right now, especially with you being here, you’re clearly mistaken.” He stood up and walked toward the door. “If Veronica dies, it’ll be because of you.” He stopped in the doorway and looked back. “And if you try to stop me from saving her...”

  “She won’t die.” Anastasia approached the bed.

  “I appreciate your enthusiastic outlook but you don’t know that.”

  Anastasia didn’t have time for Remy’s antics and pithy comments. She stared at Veronica wondering if she’d survive the night. All Veronica needed was a drop of Deamhan blood inside her to start the transformation and that wasn’t guaranteed. Not many humans survived. She could wake up a Deamhan days from now if she woke up at all. “She’s strong. She’ll survive.”

  Remy chuckled. “Do you really believe that?”

  Anastasia looked away. Do I really believe that?

  “Your fake bond with Lucius has scrambled your brain.” He laughed again. “Open your eyes.” He pointed to Veronica. “She will die before sunrise.”

  Anastasia again glanced out the window. “It’s not up to us to decide her fate.” The sky became lighter and soon the sun would rise from the horizon, making them all virtually vulnerable.

  “Hate to break it to you,” Remy said, “but you already did that for her.”

  She walked over to the window and closed the blinds. Her face, which rarely kept an expression for so long, grew dark with rage. When had she become so blind to not see the disaster she’d created in the Deamhan world? Was her loyalty to Lucius that strong to sacrifice the lives of those she felt the need to protect? Thinking about Veronica’s well-being proved enough to make her rage.

  “Are you actually reconsidering your stance with Lucius?” Prying on her thoughts Remy’s response slipped from his mouth.

  “Now isn’t the time to mock me.” Anastasia gnarled.

  “I’m not,” he replied. “Even though I’d like to.” He swiped his shoulder length hair to his back and placed his hands on his hips. “And you deserve it.”

  Veronica moaned and grunted in pain, interrupting their conversation. They returned their attention to her, watching her body convulse and her chest rise and fall. Her skin was deathly pale and her faint blue lips parted slightly.

  Anastasia felt the air become thick and the dread slithering from Remy. She immediately left the room and stood in the hallway. Standing against the wall in thought, her eyes obsessed over the red carpet on the floor.

  Remy stood firm and leaned against the doorframe. “You know, as soon as we realized what Lucius and Selene were up to, I went to look for you.”

  She turned to him.

  “Hallie said that once she and Veronica came back to the Manor, Veronica tore Nathan’s study apart, looking for any information on the Pure Ones.” His eyes turned to the ceiling. “The very first Deamhan; the original eight badasses. You know that they shouldn’t be released from Limbo, Anastasia. They’re dangerous, not only for humans but for us as well. Just imagine...eight powerful Deamhan, who can’t be harmed by stakes, sunlight, fire, let loose upon this world. For fuck’s sake, we witnessed that in the cave with Amenirdis. Think about it.”

  “I got a taste of how strong she is from Lucius,” Anastasia whispered back. “His blood tasted like fine wine. It was delicious, old, soothing and...”

  “Powerful?”

  She nodded. “I was going to say uncontrollable but yes, powerful too. It was like no other blood I’ve ever tasted.”

  “Well, there you go.”

  “Even though those Deamhan came after me and it’s my fault that Veronica is injured,” Anastasia stared down the hallway of the manor in thought, “it would be wrong to sire her. She hates who and what we are.”

  He held up his hands. “She’ll get over it.”

  She sensed his feelings for Veronica. It wasn’t a part of his makeup. It wasn’t in his nature. The feeling of concern, pity, and desire for her to make it out of this alive weighed heavily on him. It was like an annoying itch that he couldn’t scratch. The feelings of a Deamhan changed constantly. She didn’t trust it but she had no other choice. She thought that maybe if she did nothing and let Remy sire Veronica, the bizarre feelings they all had regarding her safety would go away. Sure, Nathan would never forgive them but at least she would be alive. No one knew if Veronica preferred death over being a Deamhan. It wasn’t easy to tell since the question never crossed their minds until now. Would it be that bad to turn her? At least Remy would finally have a companion and Hallie would have a big sister she could relate to. The longer Veronica remained in her frail condition, the more Anastasia felt the urgency to punish Selene and Lucius.

  She walked back into the room, squeezing herself between Remy and the doorway. She sat on the edge of the bed.

  “I will do what I have to do.”

  She heard Remy’s voice behind her.

  “I guess we can agree to disagree.” Her face showed signs of concern.

  Remy wal
ked over to the bed and pulled back the sheets. “I won’t leave her side until she gets better, but if she doesn’t...” He climbed into bed and lay next to her, snuggling his medium frame against hers, and pulled the covers her. “We’ll have another Deamhan to add to the family.” He gripped Veronica’s weak hand.

  “Do what you want.” She stood up, turned around, and walked out of the room.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Anastasia opened her eyes.

  The last thing she remembered was the Deamhan blood burning and circling through her veins before she collapsed on her bed. Now she heard Remy’s voice in her ear.

  “You up?”

  She turned her head slightly to the right to the sound of his voice. Light spots created by the lamp on the night stand near her bed crimped her view. She sat up in bed and glared at him.

  “I’ve been trying to wake you for a while now,” he said slowly.

  She raised herself from the comfort of her bed. “What happened with Veronica?” Before Remy could answer, she dressed herself quickly. The Deamhan blood had left her system, replaced with severe pain still ravaging her body, signaling that she needed to feed. She left the room and walked down the hallway, lowering each curtain as she passed. Even though the sun had set, there was still a trace of red and orange in the sky. She made it around the corner and stopped just feet from Veronica’s room, smelling Remy’s strong lingering scent. She slicked back her tousled hair, combing out the knots with her fingers, and she then placed her hands on the doorknob, turned it, and opened the door slightly. She peeked in, seeing Veronica laying on her bed.

  After she heard the strong cadence of Veronica’s heartbeat, she calmed herself and entered the room. Somehow she had made it through the night, still human. She stared at Veronica’s quaint features; her dark eyebrows, her average size lips, her round face, and it brought her back to the time when she first encountered Veronica at Dark Sepulcher.

  At that time she had no deep feelings for the human and like Remy, she found Veronica to be an attractive meal. When she learned that Veronica knew how to hide her thoughts from Deamhan, it tempted Anastasia to end her life right then and there. Veronica remained untouchable, thanks to Selene’s protection which now seemed bogus. It took every atom that made up her entire body to also protect her and she found herself switching back and forth from her human side of compassion to her Deamhan side of callousness. Her face still showed signs of her illness, yet she looked better than the night before.