Blood Ties

by Gina Whitney

  “You are so beautiful.”

  I sat up and began the process of undressing him. Both of our eyes glowed with pure love and anguished arousal. But it was I who pulled back this time. I started thinking this was really the worst and weirdest time for our first lovemaking session.

  Then I thought about the bottom line: James and I had been brought together to destroy evil. And that responsibility did not include leisurely walks on the beach, Whitman’s Samplers of assorted chocolates, or mushy rose petals on the bed. Our life together was ordained to be quite the opposite. No cotton-candy romance here.

  “What’s wrong?” James asked, wondering why I had slowed up. I was mulling over a question: when would there ever be a good time for us to make love? The answer: never. But a temporary opportunity for escapism existed now. And I was going to take it.

  James guided my body back down toward the bed. He stroked the side of my face and said, “I’m in love with you, Grace. I’ve loved you for a very long time. Before I even met you.”

  I don’t know what it was about hearing those words. I had heard something similar to them in the past, and it had been a lie. However, since they were sincere this time, my insides hummed with two feelings: perfect love and sexual desire so great it physically hurt.

  James took his time getting to know every inch of me. Starting at my head, he kissed his way down my stomach, following the thin line of downy hair going from my navel to my pubes.

  “You have hair on your belly.” He grinned.

  I playfully ran my fingers through his hair. “I am human, you know.”

  “Well, half human.”

  I felt his erection growing thicker and longer against my leg. He rose up on his knees, making my mouth water at the sight of his huge member. I wanted to taste it, run my tongue all over it. I sat up and engulfed him with my mouth. James was way too long to take in at one time; I didn’t want to induce my gag reflex. So I licked the bulging vein on the side and made a special effort to tickle the sensitive spot under the head. My tongue made a trip down the shaft and feathered his testicles. I went all the way down until I reached the G-spot behind them, simultaneously stroking his shaft.

  James, being all man, pushed my head back. It was evident he liked to be in charge, and opted to take over. And I liked that. Full of vigor, he put me back down and sucked my nipples as his middle finger found my clitoris. With light pressure he stroked it up and down, then sideways. My lips made an O as I slowly pushed air out of my mouth in response.

  “Don’t stop,” I begged as the pressure built inside me.

  James was like a drummer—brilliantly able to perform two actions at once. He stimulated my nipples, which had engorged so much I thought they’d crack. And down below his finger worked physical magic, nearly taking me to the brink. I grabbed his hand.

  “Stop. I want you inside me,” I said, panting.

  James had an intense look on his face, so extreme in its focus on me. He spread my legs and came down on top of me. He slid into me hard as steel, and I took him all in.

  With every controlled thrust of his hips, we moaned and moved with each other in harmony—perfectly synchronized. The pace was purposefully measured, at some points rockstar fast. Then, when we were about to reach the verge, James pulled back, making me ride a wave of ecstasy. When I could no longer hold back, he brought me to climax and then let himself release.

  James stayed on top of me for a while. He just stared at me and stroked my sweaty brow. Though this was post-orgasm, my heart wasn’t beating fast. It was soft and easy. I was free, flying like a bird.

  Finally, some peace.

  “What in the hell?”

  I was definitely not a morning person, and did not appreciate being awakened by an irritating, fast knocking at the door.

  James wrapped a sheet around his waist and answered. It was Aunt Evelyn. Her mouth dropped with disappointment when she saw his morning-after glow. She looked over at me, surprised I’d had the audacity to sully her sheets. However, the prude in Aunt Evelyn knew she had no room to talk—not after I had seen her chomping down on a man the night before. She quickly regrouped, but was ruffled by something else.

  “Amari is here.”

  All the color drained from James’s face. “When did he get here?”

  “Just now. You and Grace need to get down there immediately. You know he hates to wait,” Aunt Evelyn said, already halfway to the staircase.

  James was flustered, and ghosted over to his clothes. “Get dressed.”

  I followed his anxious lead and bounded over to the laundry basket. “Who is Amari?”

  James wasn’t paying much attention to me; his mind was on Amari. He absentmindedly put his left shoe on his right foot. “Uh, he’s the second-most respected witch on the council, right below Maximus. Think of them as the president and his vice.”

  I got excited. “You mean Maximus, my grandfather, actually sent help for me?”

  James put his shoe on the correct foot. “I doubt it’s that simple. He’s not that altruistic.”

  I searched the basket, which was full of freshly washed clothes, for a pair of panties. I still didn’t understand what the problem was. It sounded like good news to me that my estranged grandfather was concerned about me. “Dude, chill. Why are you buggin’ out?”

  “Because if Maximus sent Amari, something is really… terribly…wrong.”

  I thought, There’s more! Super!

  James was now fully dressed, and I still had just one leg in my underwear. But the way he was acting, he was the one with his panties in a bunch.

  James did a quick double-check of himself in the hall mirror.

  “Vanity, thy name is James,” I said.

  “This has nothing to do with vanity. When meeting with one of the royal court, you must present yourself in a respectable manner.”

  “What about me? How do I look?” Until then I’d felt alright in my skinny jeans and clunky, black boots. James looked me up and down. As he made his critical assessment, my foot turned inward like an insecure schoolgirl.

  “It doesn’t matter what I think. Remember, you are royalty, albeit in training.”

  And…, I thought.

  James took my hand and guided me down the stairs. Thankfully, he turned around and said, “And oh, by the way, you look terrific.”

  At the foot of the stairs, I looked down the hall leading to the parlor. I could see everyone else was already in there, looking all strained… Hell, even constipated. I was surprised to see Julie was there as well. She sat on the fringe of the room, closest to the door, and could see James and me headed her way. He didn’t notice the smug look she gave me, but he was not its intended recipient anyway.

  God, how long is she going to hold this grudge?

  My heart tightened as we got closer to the parlor. James entered first and bowed. I was prepared to do the same. However, when I crossed the threshold, the first person I saw was a stranger with a familiar face. As the outlander made his way to me, James stepped to the side like he was handing me off in a dance. I recognized the stranger from the press conference regarding Samantha’s death. He was that federal agent. His lion’s head ring verified it.

  The man took my hand and genuflected. He kept his head bowed as he spoke. “It is truly an honor to make your acquaintance. I am Samuel Adams.”

  “Seriously, like the beer?” I asked.

  “It is a family name,” Adams said, the humor escaping him.

  James whispered in my ear. “He’s a forerunner for Amari. He makes sure all’s clear before Amari arrives.”

  I looked to the others to give me a clue on how to respond. This man was treating me like the queen of England. They just nodded as if saying “go with the flow.”

  “Adams, rise,” I commanded, not knowing what else to say. He stood up, but was still careful not to look directly into my eyes. “I know you. From college. You commented on Samantha Beckon’s murder.”

  “Yes, I was there on b
ehalf of the FBI,” Agent Adams confirmed.

  “You went on television and told the world that a serial killer was among them. Guess that was a big lie.”

  Agent Adams responded, “Witches in high places protect the world from the ultimate knowledge. Humans are not equipped to deal with the truth.”

  I thought to myself how crappy that was to purposefully mislead the FBI and the general public about the truth, and manipulate them into chasing down shadows. Maybe it was best not to say anything at all.

  “Allow me to introduce you to the master,” Adams said. That whole time I hadn’t even noticed the silent figure sitting on the largest chair in the room, behind a desk. He was in the darkest corner, and had been observing me. I followed Agent Adams to the man.

  “This is His Excellency Amari,” Adams said. Everyone in the room bowed. I just copycatted.

  Even though Amari was sitting, I could tell he was extremely tall from his elongated arms and rangy fingers. His well-defined muscles were evident even under his tailored, pinstriped suit. He was bald, and his black skin was dewy with oil. In human years he appeared to be a well-maintained fifty, with jowls just beginning to sag.

  I didn’t need a genius intellect to know Amari did not want to be there. The commonness of the air was contaminating him. He was convinced that every breath he took coated his lungs in a thick coating of filth.

  All eyes in the room widened as Amari placed his hands on the desk and pushed himself up. His hands didn’t leave the desk as he leaned forward in an adversarial position. With a full, rich voice, he said to me, “Time to have a look at you.”

  He came toward me with a pompous stride, and stood behind me. I could feel him mentally categorizing all my flaws.

  “This? This is the one who is to destroy Catherine? What sort of creature are you? No wonder Maximus kept you a secret from me all these years.” In an excruciatingly slow manner, Amari came around to face me. “Maximus has made a grave mistake sending me here.”

  I could see James twitch at Amari’s gall, but he held his tongue in reverence.

  Amari said, “But I will follow through on my assignment.”

  Amari tsked me and walked back over to the chair Agent Adams had pulled out for him. He instructed Adams to wipe away some microscopic dust particles, and then flipped the tail of his jacket. He settled into the chair like he was sitting on a bag of rocks. He leaned back as far as the chair would allow, and steepled his hands across his abdomen.

  “As you all know, the future is not set. Different outcomes are activated based on moment-to-moment decisions. This whole situation has caused quite a dilemma for our seers. They have never had difficulty determining the probable outcome of anything until now. We cannot predict what your supposed savior or Catherine will do. We have tried to solve the Catherine problem ourselves, but there appears to be a veil on her. We can’t even find her. But some things are clear. There is trouble at this house… Trouble that can impact the outcome of events, either in our favor or Catherine’s. Julie, stand.”

  She didn’t move at first, and couldn’t understand why she was being called out. She took her time getting to her feet. “Yes, Your Honor?”

  “Julie, you are troubled, and a cause for much concern. Speak on it.”

  “I have done my duty to the fullest, sir. I will continue to do so without hesitation. You don’t have to worry about me.”

  “Those are mere words. True, you were reliable in the past, but something has happened. Something you and Grace are keeping secret.”

  Everyone in the room was surprised by this revelation— everyone except Julie and me.

  “What is he talking about?” Aunt Evelyn asked.

  Amari smirked. “Oh, Evelyn, you did not know. It is not my place to tell you. Perhaps the young women will confess it later. But now we will continue on. Catherine is devastatingly powerful at this moment. And the present timeline is growing more in her favor. This ultimately will result in the destruction not only of the Valois council, but the Bolingbrokes and all other council families. If that happens Catherine will gather the most-sadistic witches as her support and rule the world as ultimate dictator. Witches will be her slaves, and humans will be her cattle. Maximus is desperate, and has entertained the ridiculous notion that Ilan was right and Grace is the one to set us free, so to speak.”

  I watched closely as Amari pulled something out of the black lining of his jacket. His pocket must’ve been deep, because whatever it was, it was long. “A gift from Maximus.”

  It was wrapped simply in a velvet cloth. Amari reluctantly handed it to me. “Well, just don’t stand there. Look at it.” He scowled.

  It was a knife—more of a work of art than a killing tool. Seven precious metals elegantly forged and honed. The blade was so laser sharp, even the lightest tap on the blade resulted in a cut.

  Amari said, “That is the only thing in existence that can kill a witch possessed by an Ancient spirit. And, according to our seers, only two people have the power to use it. You—”

  “And let me guess. Me,” I said.

  Amari didn’t groove on me finishing his sentence. “Yes, you,” he said with a superior attitude. “I am assuming you are well prepared for battle?”

  Aunt Evelyn stood up and immediately answered. “Well, she’s learning.”

  Amari let out a sardonic laugh. “What? Learning? So you have no idea if she can perform or not?”

  Aunt Evelyn made sure not to overstep her boundaries, but she defended me the best she could. “Again, she’s learning. She’s come a long way.”

  “Maximus is putting his faith in a maybe,” said Amari. He addressed Agent Adams. “He is getting very old. Perhaps it’s time for him to step aside and let me run the council.”

  Adams was very careful not to let his opinion be known one way or the other.

  Amari shook his head and looked at me. “You. Do you have any questions?” he said, his eyes brimming with contempt.

  Questions? How about a million of them? Mainly I wanted to know about my grandfather, but there was no way was I about to bother this asshole. “No, none.”

  Amari strutted to the middle of the room with Agent Adams in tow. “Our time here is over. Heaven help us,” he lamented. He bent his forearm and rotated it in small circles. A tiny tourbillion formed around his arm and grew to encompass not only him but Agent Adams as well. Small whatnots and pieces of paper scattered about the room got sucked into the swirling current. The tornado-like cloud began to obscure Amari and Adams. It funneled to the ceiling and disappeared, leaving the paper and whatnots to fall to the floor.

  Everyone exhaled a collective sigh of relief. But the breather was short lived.

  James said, “What is this about? Are you plotting a betrayal?”

  Julie stood, with a huge chip on her shoulder. “I am doing no such thing, and I do suggest you back up.”

  “I always knew you were trouble. This just proves it,” Addison weighed in.

  Hari jumped into the fray to defend sister. “You Bolingbrokes! Always jumping to conclusions. Amari didn’t even say what the problem is between Julie and Grace. You automatically take Grace’s side.”

  The Tower of Babel was rebuilt in that parlor as they all shouted at each other. I took refuge on the couch and rested my chin in my hand. It was the best way I could disconnect from the hoo-ha. Adrian came over and offered his hand. His smile was a welcomed relief.

  “You look like you need a break.” He pulled me up and led me to the hall. “Can I get you something?”

  I was emotionally exhausted, and leaned back against the wall to recuperate. Sure. Lemonade with extra sugar.”

  “Will do,” Adrian said, and made his way to the kitchen.

  I closed my eyes as if that would stop up my ears. But I could still hear everything going on in the parlor. Aunt Evelyn seemed like she was trying to be the voice of reason.

  “Everybody, just calm down. We can’t break down now. We’ve come too far. We’re go
ing to work this out. Julie, we’ll start with you. Are you sure you’re with the program?”

  “I cannot believe what I’m hearing. Amari obviously is a prejudicial troublemaker. I’ve always been here since Ilan recruited me. I’ve only done my duty. How can you question my loyalty?”

  Aunt Evelyn hugged her. “I’m not. This whole thing is just making us crazy.”

  James saw that neither Adrian nor I were in the parlor. He made a straight line to hall, arriving just in time to see Adrian handing me the lemonade.

  James’s protective jealousy rose up. “What’s going on out here?”

  “I’m shielding Grace from all that noise,” Adrian responded.

  “Being her bartender is not your job.”

  “Maybe not. But while you were in there duking it out with Julie, you should’ve been attended to Grace’s needs instead.”

  James knew Adrian was right. It was pointless to argue with Julie. All that did was create more bitterness in an already tenuous alliance.

  Aunt Evelyn knew we needed more help, and decided to recruit Julie’s people—the shape-shifters. However, bad blood still ran deep between our two factions, just as fresh as the day the decision to invoke the Ancients was made.

  Initially Aunt Evelyn tried to meet Chief Chandranth Weylen in person to hash out their differences. However, he was understandably leery of allowing the Ancient-possessed on his tribe’s sacred land. And he definitely wasn’t too keen on the idea of my existence.

  After days of making fruitless, impassioned pleas to the chief, Aunt Evelyn asked Julie for help. Julie was eager to prove her faithfulness to the mission, and was more than willing to act as a go-between. After much discussion and debate, she convinced the chief to relent, and we were all invited to a bonfire the next night.

  Aunt Evelyn sat everyone down and handed out papers—a grocery list of peace offerings to be presented to Chief Weylen. Hari and Addison, though still not all the way cool with each other, were charged with getting wampum: hand-carved disc beads, prayer pipes, and a warrior headdress. Aunt Evelyn would go to the farmers market and pick up fresh fruits and vegetables to make a gift basket. Adrian would buy a top-of-the-line computer for the reservation school. James, however, was assigned to bring me much-needed sheep’s blood, as I was growing weaker by the hour.