Origins (A Black Novel, #1)

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Origins (A Black Novel, #1) Page 6

by Jessa L. Gilbert


  Vraiden

  “H ello, Sunshine,” I remark with a devilish laugh.

  What are the odds? Not once, not twice, but three times now I’ve run into this girl. There is definitely something different about her, something that draws me in and I can’t seem to figure out why she is so different from every other girl I have met. While she’s definitely pretty she’s not spectacular by any means. Her dark hair is long and slightly wavy, her skin a clear pale peach color. She’s by no means tall, the top of her head would fit perfectly tucked into my chin, but she isn’t exactly short either; somewhere closer to average height. It’s her eyes that catch my attention- a clear, shining grey that speak of innocence and happiness.

  “You,” she replies venomously, a scowl marring her delicate features as my eyes slowly take in the rest of her.

  “You two know each other?” Mother asks surprised.

  “You could say that,” I answer with a smirk as I remember just how well we ‘knew’ each other. “We’ve run into each other a few times but we haven’t been properly introduced yet. I’m Vraiden Black.” I flash a taunting smile and offer my hand in a gesture of greeting.

  Instead of accepting my outstretched hand she chooses to completely ignore me, causing a grin to spread across my face. I did like her spirit. Behind her Sera nudges her gently in my direction with a questioning look. “This is my daughter, Adelin.” This girl is the newfound Immortal Mother was telling me about?

  Things just got a lot more interesting. Looks like I’ll be staying with my parents a bit longer than I had planned. “Adelin,” I repeat as she reluctantly takes my hand.

  Surprising us both, I bend down and place a lingering kiss on the back of her hand. The clean, delicious scent of her soap mixed with the tang and sweetness of peaches and honey invades my nostrils and my hunger immediately flares to life bringing with it thoughts of blood and innocence stolen. I keep my eyes locked on hers, noting with satisfaction the blush that begins to slowly creep over her cheeks. Against her better judgment a shiver wracks her body and her cool grey eyes warm even as she gapes down at me with an appalled expression. My lips curve as I think of all the fun we could have together; the things I could do to her.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I respond smoothly as I straighten and politely drop her hand. Annie, my mother’s servant, appears just then and announces “Dinner is served,” before quickly retreating.

  “Shall we, ladies?” I ask as I offer an arm to both Sera and Adelin, knowing full well Adelin wouldn’t be able to refuse in her mother’s presence. She steps forwards with a defeated sigh and neatly wraps her arm around mine, all the while refusing to look at me.

  I chuckle softly as I lead the two women down the hallway and into the dining room, dominated by the overly large, gleaming solid oak table at its center. Working quickly, I seat Mother at the head of the table with Sera on her right before escorting Adelin to the opposite side. I stop and pull out the chair on Mother’s left, gesturing for her to sit, before plopping into the seat beside her with a small smirk.

  Adelin looks around confused as she takes in the place settings.

  “Isn’t Mr. Black joining us?”

  Mother’s eyes snap up. “Who? ”

  “Your husband, Mr. Black,” Adelin clarifies innocently.

  Shit! Didn’t she know? Mother’s going to have a fit. “Woods,” I murmur beside her, my voice barely audible.

  “What?” she asks, eyebrows scrunched.

  I sigh and clear my throat before speaking so everyone can hear,

  “My father’s surname is Woods. Elrich Woods.” My voice comes out much sterner than I had hoped and Adelin tenses up beside me. I silently curse myself but remain otherwise unresponsive.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Sera- er, Mom, mentioned him. I just assumed his last name was Black,” she stutters looking flustered.

  Mother glances at Sera incredulously, “Have you not taught her anything?” Her voice resounds harshly throughout the room causing me to cringe inwardly.

  “We haven’t had the opportunity to discuss everything yet,” Sera replies meekly.

  Mother’s face sets into a stern expression as she turns back towards Adelin. My hands clench the underside of the table firmly to keep from speaking up as she begins to lecture her, “In the case of Immortals, women hold all the power. When a couple marries, if the male is richer or more powerful than the bride, he is allowed to take her name. If not, he keeps his own to distinguish between the two.

  Their children automatically take the female’s surname.” She pauses and levels her gaze silently on Adelin for several seconds before continuing, “My husband is known as Elrich Woods, not Black. Your Immortal offspring, should you choose to have any, will be given the surname Wynford, as will you after the change, after your mother.”

  “But—” Adelin opens her mouth to protest, a questioning look on her face.

  “Don’t,” I whisper lowly as I gently place my hand over hers under the table to silence her. I fix my eyes on her cool grey ones, silently pleading with her, and shake my head slightly. For some reason I want to protect her and I know that if she keeps asking questions Mother will rip her to pieces, probably literally. I’ve seen her do it for a lot less.

  Understanding flashes in her eyes at my behavior and her lips turn downward slightly. “I apologize, Mrs. Black. I didn’t know.”

  “We shall fix that,” Mother replies before turning towards me.

  “Vraiden, after dinner I want you to fill Adelin in on what she should already know.”

  The rest of dinner is uneventful. Moira and Sera do most of the talking while I do my best to remain silent, not wanting to give anything away. Adelin is quiet beside me, only politely answering questions when needed. Several times throughout the meal I find myself drawn to her, my eyes lingering on her mouth, her eyes, her throat. The way she savors each bite is enticing and I find myself wondering what it would be like to taste those sinful lips against my own.

  “If you’ll excuse us,” Mother says, startling me out of my thoughts..

  “Sera and I have some things to discuss. Vraiden, would you please escort Adelin to the library so you can fill her in?”

  “Dinner was fantastic, Mrs. Black. “Thank you for inviting me,” Adelin replies sweetly as she pushes her chair back, earning a silent stare from Mother before she disappears from the room. Her long hair ripples down her back as she stands and I have an overwhelming urge to reach out and touch it, to feel its softness.

  “I’ll come find you when we’re finished,” Sera replies quietly, her eyes fixed on me as she speaks to her daughter, before she quickly hurries after the other woman.

  “Shall we?” I ask, gallantly offering my arm once more, which she again ignores before heading towards the exit. My smile falters briefly before I regain my composure and lead her down the hall to the library, an enormous richly furnished room decorated in dark colors on the other side of the house. Once inside, I shut the doors quietly behind us and exhales a long puff of air, grateful to be away from the prying eyes of our parents.

  I prop my forehead precariously against the hardwood, my hands still gently clasping the doorknobs. Sensing a change in the atmosphere I straighten and open my eyes, noticing she has moved slightly closer to me, a look of…. yearning? desire? etched onto her face. My pulse quickens automatically at the thought of being alone with her and I carefully edge nearer to her.

  “I’m sorry about all that. My mother can be a bit…..”

  “Overprotective?” she offers, causing me to laugh deeply.

  “Well, I was going to say ‘an overbearing power hungry bitch’, but I guess that works. And, just so you know, yes, she can hear me,” I reply with a mischievous wink, a lopsided grin on my lips as I rake a hand back through my hair. Caught off guard by my statement, she laughs outright before clamping a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. “So….” I say, the grin now firmly locked in place as I walk towards the leather couch an
d take a seat.

  Adelin crosses the room slowly and takes a seat across from me in a stiff backed armchair before launching a question my way. “What’s the difference between a Made and Born Immortal? Besides the obvious?”

  “Well, a Made Immortal is a human who becomes immortal. They are ‘made’ by another Immortal- it’s actually very complicated so I’ll skip that part for now. When a mortal is Made their bodies are, essentially, frozen. They no longer age, they cannot reproduce and they need blood, human blood, to survive. The change is hard on mortals- their bodies cannot process the change at first and tries to fight against it. Large doses of blood, both human and Immortal, help to ease the pain and make them stronger and the more blood they consume, the stronger, healthier they become.”

  “A Born Immortal is just that- born. Our bodies prepare for Immortality while in the womb, where we receive blood from our mothers that helps strengthen us. We are born with all of our Immortal ‘gifts’ already in place, our senses heightened. We can age and reproduce, although it must be with another Born Immortal.”

  “So, if you can age then why does your mom still look 25?” she cuts in.

  I look up abruptly and regard her seriously for a few minutes before lowering my eyes and replying lowly, “A Born Immortal will stop aging when they consume the life force of a human for the first time.”

  “Life force?” she questions dumbly. “You mean….Oh. OH,” she falters as understanding dawns on her.

  My eyes remain locked on the floor as I reply, “Yes, life force, as in killing a human by blood consumption. We take their essence, their life, which allows us to become stronger and survive longer without blood but it also takes away our ‘humanity’.” Why, why, did she have to ask that question?

  “How old were you?” she asks quietly, so quietly that if I had been human I wouldn’t have heard her.

  Despite knowing that I can choose to not answer, knowing that she is giving me a way out, I shift uncomfortably and swallow loudly. For some reason, I want her to know. My eyes flick to her face quickly before focusing again on the floor. “I was 19…..the first time.”

  “The first time?! How many times have you….Wait. No, don’t answer that. Please. I don’t want to know.” Slowly I raise my eyes to hers, my head still tilted slightly downward and I can just barely make out her features through my eyelashes.

  My voice is husky when I speak next, all traces of my usual humor gone. “More times than I can count.”

  My eyes search her face, slow and lingering, before I lean in close to whisper, “You’ll have to do it too- kill- if you want to maintain the change. It’s the only way.” I don’t know why but I want her to hate me, I want her to run screaming away and never look back. My voice is low, dangerous, as I continue, “I know what you’re thinking.

  You’re thinking that you’ll never do it. You’ll never kill. But are you sure? Do you really want to give up the chance of becoming Immortal? How about never getting to see your mother again? Is she worth killing for? She did it for you.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” she asks, her jaw clenched in anger.

  “Because, you have a choice to make, a very difficult choice, and I believe that in order to make a choice you need to know all the facts; the good….and the bad. The choice is yours alone to make.

  You need to decide what you want more, what you’re willing to give up. Would you rather retain your morals and stay human, live your life unchanged with your father…..Or, would you give it all up and, with it, your humanity- your innocence- to become Immortal? You would be able to stay with your mother, find out who you were meant to be…..Who you were born to become.” I splay my hands before me, as if I am physically weighing her options in my hands, before dropping them to rest immobile in my lap.

  “So,” she says, swallowing noisily, “what’s the good side to being Immortal?”

  “That is not something I can tell you.”

  “Then, why did you—”

  “I can show you, if you’re up for it?”

  “What do I have to do?” she questions cautiously.

  “Trust me,” I reply simply before standing up and offering her my hand, patiently waiting for her to decide.

  I can see a silent battle raging in her eyes. Part of me hopes that she will trust me, that she isn’t afraid, but a larger part, deep down, hopes that she will see me for what I am and make the decision to distance herself from me. The right decision?

  After several minutes she stands and silently places her hand in mine and I can’t help but feel pleased.

  Chapter Nine

  V raiden leads me down the hall, my hand gently clasped in his warm embrace. He stops outside one of the many doorways.

  “Stay here,” he says, giving my hand a gentle squeeze before letting go and knocking quickly on the door.

  “Yes?” Moira calls from the other side.

  Vraiden pushes open the door and steps into the entranceway.

  “Mother, Sera,” he starts, nodding to each of them in. “If it’s acceptable I would like to take Adelin home tonight. I have a few things I would like to show her.”

  Sera’s mouth springs open, a look of alarm evident on her face.

  “Absolutely no----”

  “That would be fine, Vraiden,” Moira cuts in, silencing Sera with a sharp look. “Do try to behave yourselves though.”

  “Yes, mother. Sera, don’t worry, I promise nothing will happen to Adelin tonight,” Vraiden interjects smoothly before shutting the door and grabbing my hand once more. “Come on.”

  “Where are we going?” I ask confused as he begins towing me outside. We stop beside an oversized black jeep. He opens the passenger side door and proceeds to help me in, even going so far as to buckle my seat belt for me.

  “No more questions,” he says after he climbs in and starts the engine. “Just trust me. I promised nothing would happen to you and I take my promises very seriously.”

  The drive is short, filled with silence, and before long we stop near a darkened tree line. As I climb out I can make out the sounds of the ocean crashing against the rocky shoreline but the sound is distant enough I can’t make out how close we are to the actual water.

  Vraiden takes off immediately, stopping just on the outskirts of the thicket of trees and turns back to face me. “Are you coming or not?” he asks, eyebrows raised, a wicked grin accentuating his handsome face. He spins and saunters off into the woods without waiting for any acknowledgement from me, leaving me with no choice but to follow.

  “Wait!” I yell as I stumble after him. I stop fifteen feet into the tree line, my feet throbbing. Hobbling over to the nearest tree I lean back into it and close my eyes briefly. When I look up I notice Vraiden lounging against a tree a little ways in front of me, watching me with an amused expression.

  “What?! Do you have any idea how hard it is to walk through the woods in a dress and heels?!”

  “So take them off…..”

  “What?” I question him, confused.

  “Well, not the dress obviously….unless you want to. I won’t object,” he smirks. “The shoes. Take off your shoes.”

  “I’m not going to walk through the woods barefoot.”

  “Why not?” He walks over towards me, his expression playful. “It’s not like you’re going to get tetanus. Take off your shoes,” he demands gently as he stops in front of me.

  “Uh-uh,” I reply, unable to make an intelligent statement with him this close. I shake my head for added emphasis.

  “Fine,” he responds as he kneels down in front of me, shocking me mute.

  Looking up at me through his thick golden lashes, his bright blue eyes twinkling, he slowly reaches out a hand towards my leg. His hand is warm on my skin as he gentle grips my ankle and props my foot on his bent knee, his eyes never once wavering from mine. My breath catches in my throat as his hand slides from my ankle up my leg, the warmth and smoothness of his skin making me shiver. He pauses halfway to my
knee, his hand gently clasping the back of my calf and simultaneously brings his other hand up to grip the bottom my shoe. A small smile curves the corners of his lips upward as he tugs my shoe off and sets my foot gently on the ground before patting his knee in encouragement. “Now, give me your other foot,” his voice comes out slightly husky, making my heart thunder in my chest.

  I hesitate, dumbfounded, before conceding and slowly lift my left foot to rest on his knee. Dizzy from holding my breath, I reach out a hand to steady myself, blushing when I realize I’ve put my hand on his shoulder. My eyes quickly flit back to his as his hand begins to slide from my ankle to my knee. His hand moves slower this time, the gesture seeming worn out, exaggerated.

  His eyes are no longer their characteristic bright blue but a dark, smoldering blue the shade of the ocean in the middle of the night.

  Lost in the depths of his gaze, I’m no longer paying attention to what he’s doing and don’t even notice he has removed my shoe until he sets my foot back on the ground and stands up, disrupting my line of sight.

  “See?” He dangles my shoes in front of my face. “You don’t need these.”

  I am too distracted to speak as I remember the feel of his skin on mine; the smoothness, the heat. The lingering warmth of his hands slowly begins to dissipate, causing me to ache from the loss of it.

  “Come on,” he says, looping one hand through the toe straps on my heels and using the other to ease my hold off his shoulder. Taking a moment to twine his fingers with mine, he gives me a gentle tug, urging me to follow him as he begins walking.

  I am hyperaware of Vraiden’s hand wrapped endearingly around mine as he leads me through the woods, the warmth of his embrace making it increasingly more difficult to concentrate on my foot placement. Every time I stumble he slows our pace so I can regain my footing, eyeing me as he does so with a look of barely contained amusement. I’m not sure if he finds my clumsiness funny or if he has figured out the reason behind it. Most likely it is a combination of the two. I feel as though the flush in my cheeks will remain permanent and I am grateful that I can’t see just how red I actually look. The arrogant bastard is probably used to women tripping over their own feet when he’s around.

 

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