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

by Isaiyan Morrison

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Anastasia watched as Hallie placed her hands on the glass windows of Nathan’s library, eying the tall pine trees lining the distant parameter of Blind Bluff Manor swaying in the wind. She watched Kenneth stepping into his vehicle and driving down the dirt path to the gate. Her fingers picked up on the uncanny residue, possibly left by Nathan or even Veronica but her face crinkled, showing signs of unclear thoughts.

  Anastasia walked back into the study. Nathan sat at his table, hunched over, scavenging through a stack of books.

  Remy approached her. “So what’s your history with those two?” He referred to Maris and Ayden. “I mean, I know you sired Maris and you practically left her to die, but what about Ayden?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “Well, I can tell that they make you uncomfortable,” he replied, “and it takes a lot to make you feel that way.”

  “It’s nothing.” She walked over to Nathan. She glanced over his shoulder as his eyes glanced over pages in the journal he read.

  Instead of speaking, Remy’s questions came to Anastasia through her thoughts. Did you really hand Maris over to the Dorvo Coven of vampires after you sired her?

  Again, that’s none of your business.

  Nathan looked over his shoulder at Anastasia. “The missing piece is here.” He pointed to a specific spot on the page.

  Ignoring Remy, she moved in, reading the cursive writing of Nathan’s father. “The crescent moon was a powerful symbol used to protect those from evil and dark magic.” She glanced at a picture of a crescent moon and read the writing underneath it. “A moon amulet?”

  “Moon amulet?” Maris walked over to them. “Where does it say that?” She pushed Anastasia aside and snatched the book from Nathan’s grasp. “Is there a picture? What color is it?” Her questions continued.

  “You know about this amulet?” Nathan asked her.

  Maris abruptly stopped and quickly tossed the book back to Nathan. “No.”

  “You’re lying,” Anastasia replied. “You know what amulet this book refers to.”

  “I don’t know anything.” Maris headed for the exit but met Remy who sleekly moved to stop her.

  “Oh, don’t try to run away now.” His statement escaped his mouth in a high tone to mock her. “Things are just getting started.”

  Ayden placed his arm in front of Remy and gently egged him away from her. “The amulet was created by the Kashshapu who believed that the gods and goddesses would protect them from evil harm.” He stood in front of Maris. “This amulet is just one example of what could go wrong if the magic is used improperly.”

  “My human mother gave an amulet to me before she died,” Maris said. “It was a family heirloom that I used to carry around with me.”

  “Do you still have it?” Nathan asked.

  “No. I haven’t seen it since...” Her voice trailed off. “I don’t want that thing near me ever again.”

  “Kyra gave it to Nathan’s father,” Ayden said.

  “I’ve never seen it.” Nathan began to flip through the threadbare pages again. “According to what’s written here, it’s in my father’s grave, which doesn’t make sense.”

  “Why is that?” Remy asked.

  “Because my father wasn’t buried. He was cremated.”

  “So it has to be with your father’s ashes along with the piece.”

  Nathan continued to attack the pages like a maniac. “He didn’t have a grave but it clearly says here that the amulet is with him along with the piece.”

  “Kyra did mention that your father’s writings were encrypted.” Anastasia brought one of the books up to her face and squinted. “Your father may have lied to you.”

  “The only family burial plot I can think of is in Washington State, but the last family member buried there was over a century ago.” Nathan sat back in his chair. “But this still doesn’t make any sense. My mother kept my father’s ashes until she died. In her Will she also wanted to be cremated and for their ashes to be spread. I did just that.”

  “The picture of the amulet makes perfect sense to me,” Maris said. “In those days the Kashshapu invoked the goddess Nanna, the moon god, to help them with their vampire problem.”

  Remy huffed. “I never understood the interest in superstition.”

  “You were once Catholic, Remy.” Nathan closed his book and pushed it aside. “You can’t tell me that you never believed in religion?”

  “Oh, you mean the mad being in the sky?” Remy joked. “When I was a boy, Nathan, I dreamed of the day when I would be old enough to not attend services. While my parents prayed and went to confession, I never brought myself to believe in some magical god and devil fighting for our souls or that we could be raised from the dead. Where was their god when I killed his followers? They called out to him. He never came. Yes, I was a Catholic but I use the term loosely.”

  “It doesn’t mean that God doesn’t exist.”

  “True.” Remy agreed. “But that’s a conversation for another day.”

  “So how do you explain Deamhan?” Maris asked. “Magic created us. Magic can destroy us. If something so complicated can exist, so can, what you called ‘the mad being’ in the sky.”

  Ignoring the conversation, Anastasia opened the last remaining book on the table and began to search the pages. In time she stopped at an old drawing of three girls: the triplets, with shaven heads wearing long robes. From a quick glance, she was able to see words such as “Amenirdis,” and “Amenirdis’ Ordained Servants” yet the writing only gave a brief description and nothing more.

  “Here is something about Amenirdis.” She concentrated on the picture of the triplets. “They called her the Dark Mother.” She read through the description, picking up information that they all already knew. They were powerful, the protectors of the entrance of Limbo. The page reeked of old ink and cigar smoke. In the corner of the right page she saw the initials of Nathan’s father. Between those initials, her eyes picked up on smaller writing that she couldn’t read. She narrowed in, using her acute Deamhan vision, and she awed at her discovery.

  “There’s another page number here.” Anastasia flipped through the book, looking for page 59. On that page she looked in the corner and again, between the initials, she saw another page number leading her to page 101.

  “Page numbers?” Nathan repeated in wonderment.

  “If this is the extent of your father’s encryption...” Remy smiled at the funny thought. “He obviously made it small so that the page numbers couldn’t be picked up with the human eye or a magnifying glass.”

  Anastasia turned to page 403. “Only someone with abnormal sight.” She looked at the corner of the page and saw nothing. “Like Deamhan.”

  The page looked blank to human sight, but her eyes picked up on wording on the top of the page that existed between the pages themselves. She looked up at Nathan. “Journal number 1,979. The Journal of Blank Pages.” Keeping the book open she handed it back to Nathan.

  Nathan rubbed the page. “There’s nothing here.”

  “It’s there and it reads that we the Journal of Blank Pages can only be read by someone, human and Deamhan, with the help of the moon’s light. Are the other blank journals still in the basement?” She saw Nathan’s eyes widen and he immediately stood to his feet.

  “Yes.”

  Immediately Anastasia rushed out of the room in Deamhan speed toward the basement with Remy following her.

  With one of the blank journals resting in his palms, Nathan stood out in the grass of the front yard. He looked up at the sky, trying to align himself and the book to the moonlight.

  Remy stood next to him and dropped a box full of journals at his feet. “I guess we should be thankful that it’s not cloudy tonight.”

  Ignoring his statement, Nathan walked forward, eventually finding enough moonlight to begin his search. He looked back to Remy. “Nothing.” He tossed the book to Anastasia and she glanced at the pages. Also
finding them empty, she dropped the journal and grabbed another one from the box.

  “This one is empty as well.” She tossed a journal over her shoulder.

  They filtered through the empty journals for what felt like forever until they all heard Remy gasp. “Well there you are, pretty,” he said with a smile.

  Nathan grabbed the journal and he raised it to the light. The moonlight coruscated and when it met the page, black cursive writing suddenly came to light. Anastasia read quickly, knowing that once the moonlight moved away, the writing would disappear and Nathan would have to attempt the process again.

  What she read fueled her curiosity. The writing, which was not in Nathan’s father’s handwriting, described his father’s wishes of being cremated. It also spoke of the Dark Curse briefly and of the piece Nathan’s father had taken from The Brotherhood. Finally the writing revealed the location of his father’s ashes; Wilkes Cemetery.

  Anastasia knew that cemetery well. It was located just outside of downtown Minneapolis on Washington Avenue. Protected by the Minnesota Historical Society, the cemetery was the first of its kind in the city. Lucius spent most of his time in that location and so did many researchers from The Brotherhood.

  “Your father’s ashes are buried in a grave with a picture of a crescent moon,” she said. “That’s where we’ll find the piece and maybe the amulet.”

  Nathan cradled the book in his arms and remained quiet.

  “You don’t have to go,” she said. “You can stay. We will find it.”

  “No, I’m going.” Nathan cleared his throat. “We need to hurry before the sun rises.”

  Anastasia didn’t hesitate nor question his decision any further. She couldn’t relate to how he felt knowing that the ashes he spread didn’t belong to his father. Someone had thought this plan maliciously through.

  She lifted him in her arms and once she had a firm grip, she took off in Deamhan speed, heading toward the cemetery with Remy, Ayden, and Maris close behind.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  It took Anastasia a few seconds to slow down her run. She nearly missed her turn on the street that led to Wilkes Cemetery. She softly placed Nathan on his feet and she watched him try to stand up straight in his state of confusion. Deamhan speed was more painful and the effects on humans weren’t that pleasant.

  Still, she stood, satisfied that Nathan had survived the run. She straightened her brown jacket, slicked back her hair, and wiped the speckles of dust and dirt from her face. Along with Remy, Maris, and Ayden, she and Nathan stood at the entrance of the cemetery, just within moments of finding what they looked for.

  Remy easily broke the lock from the gate and he pushed it open. Anastasia followed Nathan down the dirt path, her Deamhan vision eying every slumped headstone close and afar, trying to find the one they were looking for. At one point she thought she’d found the grave and she wavered off the path through low brush, heading straight for it. Once she realized she made a mistake, she returned to Nathan who continued to walk forward in their search with Ayden and Maris following him.

  She watched Nathan make his way to the far back where the dirt path split into two. He stopped, first looking right then left. The cemetery was bigger than they expected.

  Remy kneeled next to a gravestone and read the inscription. “Hey, I know this girl,” he replied with excitement in his voice. “I think I killed her.”

  They ignored him and proceeded further into the cemetery. Nathan slowed down his walk and he leaned against a tall marble statue of an angel.

  “Rest here,” Anastasia said to him.

  “No, I’m fine.” He waved off her worry.

  She knew he wasn’t fine. She knew his body had grown weaker in the past year. “Are you sure?” Unfamiliar with human sicknesses, his previous answer still didn’t register to her.

  “We’re losing sight of what’s important here,” Nathan replied.

  Against her better judgment, she nodded and quickly began her search, running through each and every plot, scanning over them as quickly as she could. She stopped just short of a small embankment, glaring at a thin layer of rotted leaves covering a few graves. She swiped away at the leaves with her feet, revealing headstones of an entire family from the 18th century. She stepped over their graves and continued, approaching more graves in the next row. The cemetery reminded her of her beloved country and her past. She tried to remember Ayden’s sire but it was impossible to remember every Deamhan and human she killed. There were too many. However, she couldn’t forget marauding villages with her sire, seeking out victims who fled into the cemetery thinking they could get away. How easy it was to hunt them all down and put them down like rabid dogs.

  Remy caught up with her and stood by her side. “Nathan is troubled by this new information.”

  “Wouldn’t you be if you were in his place?” She stepped carefully over rotted slumps, fallen branches, and small mountains of leaves until she noticed that the ground underneath them was soggy, making her feel like she walked over a marsh.

  “I don’t know, really.” Remy shrugged. “My parents weren’t buried. Their bodies were burned. Did you bury your parents?”

  “No.”

  “Oh, that’s right. You killed them.” He smiled. “Nathan’s taking all of this better than I thought he would.” He placed his hand on her shoulder. “So, what’s the story behind Ayden and Maris?”

  “Stop asking me.”

  “So, your past is catching up with you.”

  Regardless of what she thought about Remy, he always seemed to know when a problem brewed. This time she didn’t hold back in telling him. “Ayden over-powered me earlier tonight.”

  “Over-powered you?”

  She looked at him. “Yes. He could’ve killed me.”

  “We’re talking about Ayden, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Interesting.” He tapped his chin in thought. “What do you want to do about it?”

  Several ideas about what she wanted to do came to her with her first thought of killing him. “After this is over, I’m going to kill him.”

  “You know it won’t be easy,” Remy replied. “If Ayden could easily manhandle you, what’s to say that Maris couldn’t do the same?”

  Just then a sliver of moonlight bounced off a columbarium in the back, catching her Deamhan eye. She approached the brick wall covered in veins from a tree near the right of it. She began to read the names, noticing that the columbarium contained humans all with the last name ‘Tiernan.’ One plaque with the name of ‘Nathan Tiernan Senior’ made her pause but then she remembered that Nathan was named after his own grandfather. Eventually she noticed one plaque engraved with the name ‘Eliza Tiernan’ and another with the picture of a crescent moon and the name ‘Butch Tiernan.’

  “I have to tell Nathan we found it.” She turned around, coming face to face with Ayden and Maris. Somehow she didn’t notice that they snuck up on her and by the way Remy also glared at them, he also stood surprised. From the corner of her eye, she signaled to Remy. She didn’t want to leave Ayden and Maris alone with her findings. She wanted Remy to stay with them until she came back with Nathan.

  Remy easily read her behavior. “We’ll be here when you get back.”

  Anastasia immediately made her way back to Nathan. “We found it,” she whispered to him.

  Nathan sighed and he followed her through the cemetery and back to the site.

  They watched as Nathan rubbed his hand along the plaques of his mother and father. He took his time while remaining eerily silent. Headstones, graves, and a columbarium made no sense to Anastasia. Not once did she mourn the death of any person or Deamhan she encountered in life, including her own parents. However, she found it in herself to give Nathan a moment before she desecrated his father’s true resting place.

  Her eyes turned stark and she balled up her fist, punching at the plaque. After several moments it shattered and she reached in, grasping onto a cold steel urn. She pulled it out an
d noticed that the lid was melted shut. “I have to break it open.” She looked to Nathan and awaited his go ahead.

  He nodded and looked away as Anastasia raised the urn over her head and slammed it to the ground. The urn shattered and the cremated remains floated through the air. Among the broken urn pieces she saw five smoothed pieces of stone with carved writing. She placed the pieces together.

  “They must have broken the last piece to fit it in the urn.” She looked among the scattered ashes on the ground. Her eyes picked up on the small green crescent amulet shimmering in the moonlight. She began to place the pieces of stone and the amulet in her pocket when Maris stopped her.

  “That belongs to me,” she said.

  “Not anymore.” Anastasia stuffed them in her pocket.

  Maris stood up to her. “That amulet is mine.”

  “Stop this!” Nathan raised his voice, squashing the conflict. “What part of ‘we need to all work together’ do any of you not understand?” He turned back to the broken urn. “We need to get back and put those pieces together.” He held out his hand. “Give them to me.”

  Anastasia handed the pieces to Nathan but before giving him the amulet, she looked into his weary eyes. “Your father was a great man.”

  Nathan cleared his throat. “I would like to think so.”

  “I never liked it. I pretended to, for my mother’s sake, but there was always something about it that didn’t sit right with me, especially after I became Deamhan.”

  Anastasia, Remy, and Nathan watched Maris grab the amulet carefully, lift it to her nose, sniff it, then place it back on the table. “It’s a dangerous heirloom.”

  “So how does this thing work against dark magic?” Remy snatched the amulet from the table and Maris quickly moved back.

  “You shouldn’t touch it like that. Put it back.”