Bloodlines

by Powell, Jaime W.

  “Will that help?”

  My eyes fall to my own lap. “I hope so.”

  * * *

  “How’d everything go?” Silas asks as I close the front door and peek out the window to watch Simone get in her car.

  “She took it…surprisingly well. I’m worried about her, though. I don’t think she understands the gravity of everything that’s going on. I thought so last night. She even told me she cried herself to sleep, which means she understands some part of it.

  “But she barely flinched when I told her about myself and about Damius. There’s no way to protect her when she’s across town in some dumpy apartment and we’re all over here huddled together like a bunch of animals in the dark every day.”

  “Well that changes tonight,” Molly says, entering. “I’ve decided the three of us are going to sit down for a family meal. I’m going to start cooking right away!” she exclaims, heading toward the kitchen.

  Silas and I give each other a crooked grin and sit on the couch together — his arm around me and my head resting on his shoulder as our free hands become entangled.

  “Silas?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Do you honestly think you love me?” My breathing halts as I await his reply. He leans his head over to see my face.

  “I know I love you. I loved you the first time I saw you, only I didn’t recognize it as love. I know a lot of humans don’t believe in things such as love at first sight. But it’s real. All the things you’ve seen and believe now, trust me when I say it’s real.”

  “I trust you.”

  He pulls me in closer to him and smells my hair. “Do you think you love me?”

  I chuckle lightly. “My father would tell you I’m too young to know what love is. He’d say love is more than just a feeling. It’s paying bills together and working hard to support a family.”

  “Well, he’d be wrong. Love is a feeling. Love means you would sacrifice yourself for your mate. The paying bills and support is how people who love each other manage to live together. But love is just what it is. Love.”

  It occurs to me I agree more with him than I would my dad’s explanation. “Yes, I love you. I’d do anything for you.”

  He kisses the top of my head. “I know you would. Any way I can talk you out of that?”

  I raise up and turn to him. “Huh?”

  “Be reasonable, Emma. We can never do more than we are doing now. Holding one another. I could never give you children. I want better for you.”

  “So, what is this? You’re breaking up with me because of your own fears?”

  “Would you lean back?” he says, pulling me back against the sofa and placing his arm around me yet again. “No one is breaking up with anyone. You know what I want. I just want to make sure you are thinking everything through reasonably.”

  “There’s nothing to think through. There’s more to life than having children. And there are certainly more ways to be intimate than sex.”

  “Like what?” he scoffs.

  I turn slightly and press my lips slowly to his neck, kissing my way up to his mouth. His eyes close as our lips find one anothers. After a moment I give him a final kiss and lean back once more. “Is this not intimacy?”

  He adjusts a bit where he sits and smirks. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

  It falls silent between us as I run my fingers over the top of his hand repeatedly. Thinking of Simone. Wondering if she will be okay tonight. I begin sweating at the thought and lean forward, allowing Silas’s hand to drop from me.

  “What’s wrong? Your heart has changed rhythm.”

  I shake my head. “I’m just so worried about Simone. If there are possibly people watching this house, then they would have seen her today. Right? So what if they followed her? What if they’re at her house now? What if Damius finds out? Who would—”

  “Stop, Em. Calm down. We don’t know if there is anyone watching the house. If we find out differently, then we will find a way to take care of her. You needn’t worry. Everything will be fine.”

  I continue shaking my head. “Nothing will ever be fine again. Something is wrong. Something in the air has changed. Not to mention Micah hasn’t been to see me in weeks.”

  “Micah?” he asks.

  I nod. “He used to visit me every night and now nothing. I never see him. What do you think that means?” I ask, turning to him.

  He lowers his head. “I didn’t know he was seeing you that often. Have you grown feelings for him?”

  I place my hand on his chest. “No. My love is here with you. No one can take that away.” But as I say the words, although true, it does occur to me how much I miss him.

  How soft our kiss was, and his gentle touch when we talked in secret. Him confessing his love for me. I never stopped him from kissing me. What does that mean? He said I wasn’t giving him a chance because I thought Silas was my only choice.

  Is there any truth to that? No. There can’t be. I only miss a friend, just as I would Simone if she was gone. I shake the inappropriate thoughts from my head.

  “Emma, try to relax, please. Molly will have dinner ready in no time. It would do us all good to relax around a dinner table and have a good meal and visit. I haven’t had the chance to get to know Molly. I’m looking quite forward to it myself.

  I nod. “You’re right. There’s just so much going on inside my head. And I haven’t been sleeping well these days.”

  “We’ll remedy that tonight.”

  “How?”

  “You’ll see,” he promises.

  * * *

  Tonight, after Silas, Molly, and I finish our roast and potatoes that Molly so graciously cooked, we visit for a while before heading upstairs. It’s crazy how interested Molly is in Silas’s life. All these years they’ve been destroying his kind and never thought to speak to one. Some just want to live in peace, after all. The ones who didn’t choose to be here but were forced into this world as Silas was.

  After dinner, Silas tells me he will now help me sleep. I lie on the bed and Silas lies beside me, resting on his elbow as he stares down at me. I hear Molly’s dog begin growling and barking and I sit straight up.

  “Did you hear that?” I ask him.

  “It’s just Molly’s dog. He probably saw a mouse or something.”

  “Or a demon!”

  Silas chuckles. “So dogs can see demons now?”

  “You know they can. And they would probably bark to alert us,” I say.

  “Yes, and they also bark at plastic bags.”

  I laugh. “Well, they just have a keen sense of danger. That bag might get around someone’s head, you know?”

  “Ah, such noble creatures. Now lay down and shut up so I can put you to sleep.”

  “Put me to sleep?” I ask. What do you mean?”

  “How else would our kind be able to seduce women in their sleep? But don’t worry, I’ll stay here all night to keep you safe. Now close your eyes,” he says brushing his fingers over my eyelids as they shut. Before I know it, I’m waking up to chirping birds from a deep but dreamless sleep.

  Twenty-Four

  The Bellator

  I awake to the sun shining into the room through the dated, lace curtains, and I begin to stretch when my arm hits something beside me. Instinctively I jump from the bed ready for a fight. But then I see Silas’s perfect body lying there as he stares up at me.

  “Well, good morning to you, too,” he says, rubbing his eyes.

  I clutch my chest in relief. “I’m sorry. I forgot you were here. I’m used to sleeping alone. You were here all night?”

  “Of course. I said I’d make sure you were protected,” he explains through a yawn. “I wasn’t about to leave you here alone. Not after everything.”

  I climb back into the bed and roll onto my side, resting my head on his chest. He sweeps the blonde locks from my neck with such a gentle touch, it sends shivers down my spine. I close my eyes to the sensation, hoping it lasts forever. But a knock on the front
door jolts us both to an upright position.

  “Are you expecting anyone?” I ask with wide eyes.

  Silas shakes his head. “No, but I suspect someone intent on hurting us wouldn’t knock. C’mon.” He takes my hand and we make our way down the hall to the door. I glance through the peephole, then roll my eyes knowing only my father would have this kind of timing.

  “Hey, Dad,” I say as I open the door.

  “You’re still in your pajamas,” he answers as he walks in. “I started not to knock at all but I didn’t want to come in without warning. You’re all a lethal bunch after all.”

  “Well, hello, Christopher,” Molly says, wiping her hands on a dishcloth as she hustles to welcome him. “I didn’t know we were expecting you.”

  “Well, you weren’t,” he says. “But I wanted to talk to Emma about some things. We’ll be in her room if you need us.” He takes me by the arm and leads me back to where I started. He shuts the door behind us, and I get the distinct impression whatever he is about to tell me is important.

  “Em, I have something for you,” he says in a hushed voice. From the back of his pants, under his light jacket, he pulls out a set of daggers. They are like nothing I have ever seen before. The three points on each dagger are golden, and the handles are a shiny silver with black vines and leaves adorning them. In the center of the handles are my initials, E.T.L., Emma Tracy Lester.

  “They’re gold-plated. The only material on Earth, besides fire, that can destroy a demon.”

  I tear my eyes from the daggers to glance up at him. “Dad—”

  “Look, Em. If you insist on following the path you’re on with Silas, I can’t stop you. But I can make sure you’re protected. Besides, once you’re of age you’ll need a weapon, and I’m aware a hatchet, in your eyes, might seem a bit harsh. I want you to feel more like you are protecting yourself rather than murdering someone or something.”

  My brows rise as my eyes fall back to the daggers. I take them in my hands and the weight of them is heavier than I expected. I twist them, letting the light from the window cast reflections around the room.

  “They’re heavy,” I comment.

  “They are now. You’ll be stronger when you come of age. It won’t be an issue then and we can begin your training. Most of it comes natural, but practicing never hurts.”

  I sigh as I sit on the edge of the bed, clutching the heavy objects in my hands. “Well, I must say, you’ve out done yourself this time, Dad.”

  “Emma—”

  “I’m not being sarcastic, Dad, don’t worry. This tells me you understand me a little bit more than I thought you did. You’re right. These are a sight easier to deal with than a hatchet. I wasn’t sure if I could do this, but now I have a little hope.”

  I sit them gently on my bed, cross the room, and place my arms around him in a hug. He squeezes me tighter than ever before, and when I try to release him, he holds me for a few seconds longer.

  When we leave the room, my father bids farewell to everyone and makes a quiet exit before any questions can be asked. For some reason, he wants me to keep the daggers a secret. Perhaps mostly from Silas. He’s thinking like a father — if Silas tries anything, stab him. I can read my dad like a book now.

  “Daggers, huh?” Silas says, suddenly appearing out of nowhere and sitting on my bed next to the weapons that could one day kill him.

  “They’re nothing,” I mutter.

  “Gold-plated even. I have to say the Huntsmen know what they are doing.”

  “Yeah, why gold?”

  He sighs. “There are a lot of theories. Some say it’s because it’s not toxic to humans. You can sprinkle golden flakes on your food and in your drink, and it wouldn’t hurt you. Something that is so pure to humans is said to be devastating to our kind.”

  “Yeah, well, carrots are good for us and can’t hurt, but I don’t see that on the daggers.”

  He chuckles. “Carrots go bad, dear. Gold is resistant to water, and most acids, as many other things. It can be everlasting if cared for. Another reason they probably use it.”

  I shake my head. “I should put them away. I’m sorry,” I say, grabbing them. But he takes my hands.

  “T. What does the T in your name stand for?”

  “Tracy. I was supposed to be a twin and my name was going to be Emma and his or hers Tracy, after our grandfather. But Tracy died in the womb early on. So early on, in fact, that nothing was even done. She just…dissolved. As if she never was.”

  “She? How do you know it was a she?” he asks

  I shrug. “I don’t. I’ve just always pictured myself missing a sister, I suppose. Plus, there are more girl Tracys than boys, right?”

  “Dissolved, you say?” Suddenly his eyes are duller than I’ve ever seen, and his naturally dark skin seems to be much paler. My brows pull together.

  “What’s wrong?”

  His hand finds my cheek, and his thumb brushes it gently back and forth. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry.”

  I pull his hand from my face. “No, tell me.”

  His hand falls from my face as do his eyes. He takes a labored breath. “The Huntsmen have many legends about our kind. I admit most are true. The gold, for instance.”

  “But?”

  “But we have our own legends about your kind.” He finally meets my eyes again as his glow just a touch more than they did before.

  “About the Huntsmen? What is it?”

  “They say a warrior will join the Huntsmen with the power of two. We’ve always pictured a man. But I suppose it could be a woman.”

  I shake my head. “What are you trying to sell me here?”

  “The ultimate warrior for your kind. A leader amongst your own people and a devastating destroyer among ours.”

  I sit closer to him, throwing my arms around him with my lips close to his ear. “You’ll never have to fear me. I don’t believe I’m any different than any other girl in this. You’re just jumping to conclusions out of fear. Please, don’t worry.” I kiss his neck, and his body begins to relax a bit.

  * * *

  Silas decides to keep watch from the living room for most of the night until I’m ready to go to sleep. As I lay here I know who I need to talk to. Someone who might be able to shine some light on this. Someone who may have ushered my sister into the light. I sit in the middle of my bed, legs crossed, peering around my dimly lit room.

  “Micah, please talk to me. You know I need you, and I know you can hear me,” I say into the quiet night. “It’s been weeks, Micah. Time to stop playing hide-and-seek.”

  I swallow hard, unsure if my words from our last visit still ring loudly in his ears. After a few minutes of silence, I fall backward on the bed. But the air has now changed to a soothing coolness which surrounds me, and I grin to myself as I sit up.

  There stands Micah in all his glory, with a halo of light surrounding him, and his large, brown eyes twinkling in the darkened room.

  “Micah.”

  “Hello, Emma.”

  “I didn’t mean what I said. I always want to see you. You just happen to have unique timing. All the worst times, to be exact.”

  “Is that not my job? To cater to the broken in their time of need?”

  “I suppose you’re right.” My grin soon fades though and it leaves me with overwhelming questions.

  “I can see you search for something. What is it?” he asks, sitting next to me, his long hair falling around his shoulders as he leans in close.

  “What am I? And don’t lie. I can take anyone’s lies but yours.”

  “It’s not in me to lie. But it wasn’t my place to tell you. But now that you know I will. You are the Bellator.”

  “And that is?”

  “It’s Latin for the warrior. You were right. Your twin was a sister. When she died, you took what was hers into yourself. See, she too, would have been a Huntsman had she been born. But as I said before, God looks down on you with favor.

  “I came to you the day you
were shot, not to take you as I said, but to make sure you were saved. I go where I’m needed. Of course, I was not able to tell Silas and his brothers this. It was for you to find out on your own. And so, you have.”

  Suddenly I have an image of myself that makes no sense to me. Some female warrior slaying demons on a hill by hand repeatedly as if Armageddon were upon me. That’s what Damius meant about knowing who I am. I glance to the table where the daggers rest.

  “And those?” I ask, gesturing to them.

  “They will aid you.”

  “Aid me. Does my father know? Did my mother?”

  He shakes his head to comfort me. “No. These are legends not known to The Huntsmen. But you will become their leader. You will lead them in your battles. You have a gift no other Huntsmen has: the ability to tell the difference between a demon who wishes others harm and the ones who have pledged themselves back to the Lord.

  “This is not a current belief of the Huntsmen. They believe them all to be dangerous, and so they can be. But some wish to live in the light and serve the Lord, and with your help, they shall. This is a gift, Emma. You’re a gift.”

  Twenty-Five

  Calling for a Favor

  It’s been a month since Silas discovered who I was. Or rather who he thinks I am. He’s under the impression I’m the foretold destroyer of his kind. Perhaps he’s right, but I couldn’t bring myself to discuss everything with him. That is, until tonight. As Rain sits on the patio with her mother’s dog, throwing a ball for its pleasure, I sit Silas down to discuss everything with him.

  I would have sat him down before now, but every time I would try he would pull further and further away from me, as if he feared me. It’s quite heartbreaking. Probably for us both.

  “I’ve told you, Emma, I’m not concerned.”

  “Silas, you’ve been avoiding me like the plague. I know you’re concerned but it’s not like you think. I spoke with Micah.”

  “Micah. I get so tired of hearing about him,” he scoffs.