Forgotten Blood

by S S Bazinet

  A thought followed that wasn’t as wonderful. When she recalled the sound of Arel’s voice when they talked, a tiny sliver of doubt crept into her cocoon of maternal happiness. He did seem pleased, didn’t he? Or was there a note of panic in his voice?

  She smoothed out the covers and tried to put an end to all her questions. She hoped she was imagining things, but she couldn’t forget that part of Arel that could almost be termed a compulsive worrier.

  Freddie interrupted her musings. Being his perceptive, Bichon Frise self, he had a knack for picking up on her moods. In this instance, the nearly grown pup came over and gave her a reassuring pink-tongued kiss on her cheek. Afterwards, he became his playful self, bouncing around the downy comforter.

  Elise caught him in mid bounce and pulled him close. He was all wiggles, but after a couple of soothing strokes, he settled down and let her scratch his ears. His body was filling out as he matured, but his personality was as lighthearted as ever. She leaned in and kissed his head. “Thank goodness for you, Freddie. You’re a comfort when I miss your daddy. He’s only away for a few days, but still—”

  Perhaps she should have waited to tell Arel about the possibility of being pregnant. Perhaps she’d blurted out the news too forcefully, and Arel had panicked about being a father. If that were true, he had nothing to worry about. Arel excelled at being loving around kids. He was sweet, kind and devoted to his god children. It was clear he adored them. He’d be the perfect father for their children too, the kind of father Elise didn’t have growing up.

  And yet, the more she thought about their conversation, the more convinced she was that Arel wasn’t completely honest in how he felt about a child of his own. She wanted to call him back, to make sure all was well, but she stopped herself. “Don’t be silly,” she insisted. “Of course, he’s as thrilled as I am.”

  * * * * *

  William drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair as he observed Arel. He had to remind himself to be patient. He’d gone through countless episodes with Arel overreacting. This one was no different. Arel couldn’t handle Elise’s news so he allowed himself to freeze up, remaining motionless in his seat. His cheeks were pale as bleached laundry. His chest was barely rising. His glassy eyes stared blankly, forgetting to blink.

  William knew he shouldn’t, but he chuckled to himself. Arel mentioned how different they were, and William was grateful he’d always been the rational one. With Arel’s emotional nature calling the shots, he could falter very easily. William cleared his throat and tried to sound understanding. “You’re right, Arel. It is a strange quirk of fate that Elise might be pregnant. We were just talking about—”

  Arel raised a hand. “Please, I have to think.”

  William contained his annoyance. What was there to think about? If Elise was pregnant, they’d find a way for Arel to make peace with that fact. However, Arel could never let anything be that simple. He’d gone from staring to shutting his eyes and furrowing his brows. That wasn’t good. A person like Arel couldn’t be allowed to withdraw too far from reality. He might slip away permanently. William had to take a more aggressive stance. “Look, Arel, it’s not the end of the world. Your friends call you a baby whisperer. You’ll do a great job as a dad.”

  William’s forceful statement seemed to do the trick. When Arel’s eyes opened wide again, William offered a smile. “Everything will work out. I’m sure of it.”

  Arel slowly shook his head from side to side. “No, you’re wrong.”

  William felt a chill grab hold. Arel’s low, rough voice was thick with some weird emotion that went right to his core. “Stop being all spooky about something that’s very natural,” he ordered.

  Arel’s eyes became fierce and insistent. “You don’t understand,” he growled.

  “Understand what? That you’re scared? Lots of guys have that reaction. Just breathe and get yourself together.”

  Arel’s fingers clawed at the sofa arm as he tried to stand up and failed. Falling back into his seat, he became immobile again. But he didn’t do as he was told. Instead of breathing, his chest stopped moving. He was clearly in the grip of acute panic. It was so palpable it hit William. This time he didn’t feel a chill. He took a slam to the gut that made him instantly sick.

  The unwelcome battering triggered his anger. Arel was great at projecting crappy energy. If William let himself buy into it, he was being a fool too. He needed to act before things went any further.

  He got up and went over to where Arel was sitting, looking like some statue of doom. In a fluid motion, he jerked Arel to his feet. “Look at me, Arel!” he ordered. “Look at me now!”

  Arel swayed back and forth as if he was ready to faint.

  William gave Arel’s shoulders a good shake. “Oh no you don’t. Stay with me.”

  Arel stood mutely, gritting his teeth as if struggling to obey.

  “That’s right. Take a breath,” William urged.

  Arel inhaled a couple of times, paused and suddenly came alive. He switched roles with William, and grabbed hold of William’s arms. “This isn’t what you think, Will.”

  Arel’s tight grip and flashing eyes were affecting William’s ability to remain the sensible one. He tried to shake himself free, but Arel held fast. “Arel, for heaven’s sake—”

  “This isn’t about heaven, it’s about a monster.”

  “What monster are you talking about?”

  “Maybe it’s better you remain in the dark—”

  The statement, delivered so forcefully, didn’t help William’s queasy stomach. “Don’t give me that. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Arel’s tone was filled with misery.

  William paused. Arel’s attitude was extreme, even for him. “What are you hiding?”

  Arel hesitated. His eyes flickered over William’s face with concern. Finally, he dropped his shields and allowed William access to his mind. It was filled with an appalling vision. William jerked back immediately, wishing he’d taken Arel’s advice to spare himself. He tried to speak, but his lungs stopped working in mid breath. An agonizing feeling of disaster followed. No, it was more than a feeling. A memory had come back to haunt him. It was suffocating him, stilling his breath like it had stilled Arel’s.

  Arel’s voice took on more volume. “I’ll find a way to stop him.”

  “How?” William could hear himself asking the question. He sounded weak and despairing. That wasn’t like him. He didn’t let himself give into that kind of emotion. He used everything he had to fight his enemies. But he couldn’t fight the hopelessness he felt.

  Arel seemed strengthened by William’s fears, a soldier who was determined to rise to the call of duty. His eyes began to glow more brightly, more confidently. “I don’t know how, but I’ll find a way. I promise.”

  William wasn’t fooled by Arel’s attempt to remain the strong one. Both of them recognized the face that lurked just beyond the veil of life. Both of them had prayed they’d never see it again.

  William swallowed hard, trying to clear the knot of fear lodged in his throat. “Lord help us both, Arel. You’re going to be a father, but your child isn’t going to be a good little boy. He’s going to be a demonic beast, a fiend who’s coming back to destroy us all.”

  Four

  ROLPHE SAT IN his Paris studio staring at his nearly completed canvas. His six-foot-five, heavy-boned frame had been kept sitting far too long without a break. He stood up and ran a paint speckled hand through his slightly graying, dark hair. He didn’t remember when he’d combed it last. When he engaged in a painting frenzy, he tended to ignore everything else.

  He’d even neglected his sweetheart, Myra. It hadn’t been a smart move. Recently, she’d called and suggested they break off their relationship. Rolphe knew he should have been more adamant about staying together. Yet he’d agreed that it might be for the best. Perhaps they needed some time apart. Afterwards, he didn’t want to think about their conversation. He’d been able to ignore
the whole thing by continuing to stay busy.

  The Garden of Eden scene in front of him was more compelling than he’d imagined possible. It was a beautiful depiction of mankind’s first home, and he was proud of his accomplishment. Every detail seemed alive and vibrant, almost too alive.

  At times, the garden’s serpent seemed ready to leap out of the painting. It was an exquisite creature. Unlike a snake, the serpent had small wings, and it stood upright. Rolphe didn’t know how, but he knew this serpent wasn’t a tempter of mankind. He was more of a guardian of the garden. A couple of times, when Rolphe worked late into the night hours, he could almost hear the serpent speaking to him, advising him to be on guard.

  Rolphe wondered what the serpent meant. On guard about what? Of course, he had to admit he hadn’t felt quite himself lately. Dark, unwanted thoughts often showed up for no reason. He resisted them, but he was also curious. Why was he thinking more and more about Arel and William’s faults instead of their virtues? Why would he imagine himself denouncing them?

  In truth, he loved the two men almost as much as he’d loved his own children. Arel had been the person who’d helped to reclaim Rolphe when he thought himself a vampire. And William was Arel’s closest friend. He’d been the one who had helped Rolphe and the angels save Arel from his bout of insanity. William had proven himself to be a champion of all that was good and holy. Rolphe admired the man’s bravery and courage.

  In spite of Rolphe’s love for Arel and William, he was plagued with the unwanted intrusions. And they were becoming more frequent and intense. At times, Rolphe had even caught himself thinking the world would be better off if Arel and William were dead.

  The idea was horrifying. Rolphe was too embarrassed to discuss the matter with one of his angelic friends, Carey or Michael. And he surely wasn’t going to confide in Arel or William. They were still very wary around him.

  Some extremely damning events had occurred when Rolphe was trying to resist the angelic blood Arel gave him. His face still reddened in shame when he remembered how heartless and uncaring he’d once been. He’d viciously attacked William, nearly sucked him dry and left the man for dead. No wonder neither Arel nor William totally trusted him. He hoped they could all eventually be friends, but that was probably never going to happen.

  With no one to turn to, Rolphe had to figure out what to do on his own. He did have one practice to fall back on. He’d been brought up to believe in the Divine, the Source of everything. As a believer, he often prayed. He asked God for help and clarity in understanding why he was plagued with evil thoughts.

  An answer came in the form of a memory. As a child he’d been told that there were demons in the ethers. These evildoers lurked in the shadows of the mind. Their purpose was to tempt a person, to draw them into darkness. And that’s exactly what had been happening to Rolphe. He felt as if some evil presence invaded his thoughts and made suggestions that were foreign and treacherous.

  He had to stay very aware if it happened again. If he noticed his mind entertaining something unsavory, he’d use his prayers to counter any dark forces. He did have another small ally in his corner, the serpent in the garden. He went over to the canvas and smiled at the painted figure.

  “Thank you for the warning,” he said quietly. “You’re only a bit of paint on canvas, but you’ve helped me more than you can know.”

  As he spoke to the creature, he noticed how perfect it was. Its small iridescent wings were folded behind its back, and its lithe body was covered in scales that held all the colors of the rainbow. Surely, the handsome creature would be comfortable sharing space with elves and fairies. As soon as he had the thought, the serpent’s expression seemed to change. It looked back at him with something akin to a sly smile. Mystified, Rolphe rubbed his eyes and realized how tired he was. His mind was playing tricks on him.

  His small, black cat, Dantela, seconded the motion. She jumped out of her basket and came over to him. Stretching out her white-tipped paws, she let him know it was time for a little feline appreciation. Rolphe agreed. He reached down and picked her up, holding her against his broad chest. She was his friend, his confidant.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked as he stroked her soft fur.

  A loud, sustained meow answered his question, and her staring, blue eyes offered additional censure. Rolphe didn’t only forget about his own needs, he sometimes forgot about hers. But she was patient and forgiving. After all, he’d found out that she sometimes channeled an angelic spirit in her delicate body.

  After Rolphe gave the cat her supper, he decided to attend to one more duty before he went to bed. He felt it prudent to tune into Arel and William’s energies every so often. Both men had been doing okay for the past few months, but it never hurt to check. They’d had some close calls in the past.

  Instead of using a traditional method to check on them, Rolphe used his psychic abilities. He’d always been gifted, but his gifts were even more pronounced since he’d been the recipient of the angelic blood Arel had passed on to him. If he wanted to find out how someone was doing, he could tune into that person’s emotional state with a bit of psychic snooping. Still, it would have been nice if Arel called him once in a while.

  As if on cue, his phone rang. The ring tone belonged to Arel. Rolphe grimaced. “Oh no, the man’s very private. Maybe he sensed I was about to breach that privacy, and he’s calling to reprimand me.”

  Arel had often been on Rolphe’s case, accusing him of being overly curious and sometimes downright invasive. Rolphe would have liked to prove Arel wrong, but he couldn’t. In truth, Rolphe had taken liberties in the past. He’d stuck his nose in where it didn’t belong. But he had a good excuse for his actions. He often worried about Arel and William’s safety. By staying informed, he might be able to help if trouble arose.

  Staring at his phone, he felt some twinges of guilt. When the phone rang a third time, he almost didn’t answer. He was tired and didn’t feel like getting chewed out again. But he couldn’t help himself. His paternal side was stronger than his fear of disapproval. Or maybe he just wanted to hear Arel’s voice, to talk to him again.

  He answered the phone, prepared to do a bit of groveling. He barely got out a greeting. Arel dominated the call. His orders were short and to the point.

  “Come to London, Rolphe. We have a problem, and we need your help.”

  “Me? You want my help?” Rolphe asked.

  “Yes, come to William’s home,” Arel insisted.

  The news was so unexpected Rolphe couldn’t say anything more. When he put his phone back on the table, his eyes were beginning to tear. A display of emotion was also part of his upbringing. The men in his childhood village sang and danced at weddings. They cried when they were happy or sad.

  Rolphe had never quite abandoned those customs, especially when something touched his heart. This was one of those times. He knew he had to make arrangements for his trip, but he had to take a moment to collect himself. Clutching his chest, he let his tears cascade freely down his cheeks. He hadn’t felt needed in a long time, not the way Arel seemed to need him now. It was his chance to prove himself, no matter what that meant.

  Five

  ANNABEL LOVED THE recently remodeled lower level of her home. William had done an extraordinary job transforming the space. It had once been a no-frills open area with tiled flooring and plain walls. Now it was their beautiful, spacious, great room.

  Plush wool carpeting and expensive narrow-wood paneling gave warmth to the floor and walls. Twin overstuffed sofas, plus carefully chosen pieces of additional furniture, made for comfortable seating. And if they wanted to listen to music or watch a movie, the latest in entertainment equipment had been purchased. William had made sure that every detail added to the room’s elegance and sophistication.

  But a person’s life couldn’t be transformed that easily. Goodness knows William had tried to help Annabel transform her life. But being a happy, well-adjusted human being was a challenge that Annabel couldn’
t seem to master, no matter how hard she worked to accomplish the goal.

  She often felt moody. Sometimes, she heard herself being abrasive and critical, and she hated being like that. To be fair, she did blame William for the worst of her outbursts. He was always getting involved in life-threatening dilemmas, usually ones that Arel managed to instigate. As a result, her fears escalated.

  How different it was when she was William’s angel. From that tranquil vantage point, she never got emotionally invested in what he did or didn’t do. Then the unexpected happened. She fell in love with William. After a lot of deliberation, she finally decided to leave the ways of an angel behind. She dived into being a human. It was quite a shock. Humans were regularly subjected to shifting feelings and fear, a condition she’d never experienced as an angel.

  At one point, when she and William were constantly upset with each other, Annabel sought out help from a different source. She traveled to Chicago and stayed with Elise. Elise and Arel weren’t married yet, but they were neighbors. Getting to know Elise was one of the best things Annabel could have done.

  Elise wasn’t only kind and sweet, she showed Annabel the lighter side of life, a life that had room for dancing and baking cookies. Annabel hoped to incorporate what she learned from Elise. She also wanted a family, but it was clear that William didn’t share her desires.

  Sitting on a sofa, waiting for a meeting to begin, she couldn’t worry about a family. When she’d come home from shopping the day before, William and Arel looked like they’d been visited by someone straight out of Hades. They explained that the description fit. They’d been contacted by a very unsavory ghost, one who threatened to destroy any happiness either of them hoped to have in their future.