Blood Bound Prequel

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Blood Bound Prequel Page 2

by J. L. Myers


  “To deliver a message. Let me tell you?” He came closer one slow step at a time, his eyes that were as deep as the ocean never leaving mine. My insides jumped, but my feet remained planted. I felt like there was an internal battle being fought inside of me that I had no control over. “Once I’m gone you won’t be able to picture me, but you won’t forget my words.” Now right in front of me he leaned in close, his clean-shaven face grazing my cheek and sending sparks down my neck. He brushed my long hair over my shoulder, his breath icy as he spoke into my ear. “You don’t know who you are. It’s all a lie.”

  I felt a release with the end of his words and I jolted back. My eyes slammed shut in confusion and anger. Had this guy seen me watching the deer? Had he been watching and waiting for me outside my classroom? “Who do you think—” I stopped speaking as my eyelids flung open, stopped breathing for a second too. The muddy path in front of me lined with underbrush and tall snowy skeletons was…empty. The guy, whoever he was, was gone. And now that I thought about it, what had happened seemed like a strange, unnerving dream. I couldn’t even remember what the guy had looked like.

  A chill seeped through me then, the cold finally penetrating my skin and attacking my bones. I hugged my arms around myself, my stalker’s words looping through my mind. You don’t know who you are. It’s all a lie.

  Chapter 3

  Leaving the comfort of warm swirling steam that filled my bathroom after a late dinner, I scrunched the towel around my hair to dry the tangled length. It was much colder in my upstairs bedroom, but unlike my chill earlier, I was back to not feeling the cold. My body seemed to have forgotten what it had felt, but my mind refused to let what had happened and my interaction with the disappearing guy go. I’d closed my eyes for a second, not long enough for him to vanish without a sight. Or a sound. Had he even been there at all…or had I imagined the whole encounter?

  I rubbed at my arm that I could swear was still tingling from his electric touch. Maybe I had a brain tumor that was making me see things—and hear and smell and feel things—that weren’t really there.

  The possibility was almost better than the alternative, which I refused to contemplate as I tugged sweat pants and a T-shirt on over the panties and bra I’d already put on. Falling back onto the end of my bed with its welcoming, purple blanket, I couldn’t keep my eyes from the window beside my dresser. It was still dreary out there, a thicker cover of snow falling to coat everything in white. The words that guy had said floated through my mind as if on an invisible wave. You don’t know who you are. It’s all a lie. I still couldn’t remember anything about him, what he’d looked like, not even how old he might have been.

  At least my senses had returned to normal. No more crazy sense of smell and heightened hearing.

  A cleared throat made me spin up off my bed to find someone lurking at my bedroom door. “Dorian!” I tried to breathe and calm my heart that had jumped into marathon mode.

  “Sorry.” Dorian shrugged and came into the room. He’d been absent from dinner, so I’d had a break from his questions. Looked like my luck was up though. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He handed out a large piece of glossy paper that had been rolled up tight. “The poster you ordered arrived earlier. Thought you’d want it.”

  “Oh, thanks.” I snatched it, wondering why he had it. It hadn’t been in the pile of mail on the kitchen bench earlier. Which meant he’d swiped it to have an excuse to check in on me. Sighing, I unraveled the length. It was the poster for the new Write This Down album. With most of my walls covered already, there was one special place for this one above the padded, material headboard of my bed. To keep the subject neutral, I noted his clothes as I unintentionally sniffed the air. Clean jeans and a crisp shirt. I could actually smell the washing powder that’d been used. “You going out again?”

  Dorian nodded. “I thought you might want to come.” At my poisonous look he added, “It might help smooth over what happened today. There’s a whole group of us going to the café in town.”

  There was nothing I wanted to do less. After everything that had happened today, and feeling like I couldn’t tell anyone, not even my best friend whose call I’d ignored earlier, I needed to do something. I needed to see if there was any truth to the words that strange guy—if he’d been real—had said. “I’ll take a pass. Maybe next time?”

  Dorian frowned, noticing the way my eyes kept skittering over to the window and the tall, thick forest our property backed onto. “You sure you’re okay? You know you can tell me anything, Sis.”

  He was right, of course. But I still wanted some proof that I wasn’t losing my marbles before I aired any of this out to him. “I know. And I’m fine. Sorry I got angry over the phone earlier.”

  He smiled and wrapped his arms around me. “Call me punching bag, and I’ll come running.” He let go and his brows lifted. “Call me if you need me?”

  I nodded and he left my room, closing the door behind him. A moment later I found myself at my window, staring out at the wintery wonderland that was more spooky than festive. I was about to turn away when a darting figure down below caught my eye. A person, a woman, with identical platinum blond hair to mine and a thin physique. “Mom?” And then she was gone, escaping through the bordering trees backing our property and disappearing into the wilderness. “What the hell?”

  Hearing a car’s engine rumble and the close of the front door, I quickly checked the house. Dorian must have just taken off with his friends. There was no one else here, not downstairs in the kitchen or the lounge. Even Mom’s room was empty. Returning to my bedroom, I shut myself in and dialed Mom’s phone. The standard ringtone hummed out from somewhere down the hall.

  Feeling more confused and unsure about everything that had happened today, I sat down at my dresser and lifted my laptop screen. Minutes later I was scouring the internet, searching for old news headlines from over sixteen years ago about a man being killed during a break and enter. After thirty minutes of trying all kinds of different keywords, nothing came up, not even when I search for him by name. Mr. Athobry, our father who’d protected us even before we’d been born and had died to keep us safe, didn’t exist. I switched to searching for Lamayli Lamont, my mother’s maiden name. I even resorted to checking one of those ancestry sites, but it turned up nothing. My parents didn’t exist. “What the hell is going on?”

  A flash of movement outside had me up and out of my seat in a flash. The padded chair toppled over, but what I saw through the window kept me from picking it back up. My mom was out there, rushing to get back inside, and she looked…dirty.

  Running from my bedroom, I saw Mom’s bedroom door shut without a sound. How had she gotten upstairs so fast? I hadn’t even heard the back door shut. I had no idea what was going on, but I needed to. Something wasn’t right here. Nothing about today had been right. Or normal. Tiptoeing over the hall runner to her door, I listened. There was shuffling inside, and I knocked and cleared my throat. “Mom?”

  “Just a minute, Amelia. I’m…about to have a shower.”

  I opened the door anyway—and froze at the sight of her. A black top hung limply from one of her hands, leaving her in only a bra and leggings. But seeing her partially dressed wasn’t the problem. The blood and dirt smeared over her stomach, chest, and hands were. I backed up a step, any and all words caught in my throat. And then I smelled it, that same metallic scent I’d picked up twice today. I can smell the blood.

  “Amelia, just listen…” Mom came closer, dropping her top into the dirty clothes hamper at the opening to her walk-in robe. She pressed her palms together as if begging for me to listen. “It’s not what it looks like.”

  I stepped back again, my nostrils flaring as I failed to stop myself from smelling the red that stained her skin. “And what does it look like? That you went out into the forest and killed someone?”

  Mom gasped and her already pale skin turned even whiter. She laughed a little and shook her head, her expression and breathing anyth
ing but normal. “Amelia, sweetheart. You’re being overdramatic and jumping to conclusions.” She reached out and I flinched away from her bloody hand. “I went for a jog and I ah, came across a trap. The rabbit, it was in a bad way but it was still alive.” Her eyes fell from mine and she turned away, taking a few steady breaths as she went to sit down on her huge bed. At the last second she thought better of it, probably realizing she’d ruin the flower-patterned, Egyptian cotton sheets. “I tried to save it, but…” Captivated by her story and that smell, I crept further into the room. Mom didn’t look up at me, keeping her glassy eyes down on her crimson hands. “As I got the trap open the wounds, they bled out. I tried but I couldn’t stop the flow.”

  I gulped to clear the pooling saliva from my mouth as I imagined my mom on her hands and knees in the snow and mud, and her pained expression as the life she’d tried to save slipped away. My mom wasn’t a killer. She ran charity functions not only to help with overcoming terrible illnesses in people but also to advocate for the lives and proper treatment of animals. “Sorry, Mom.” I placed my hand over hers that were clutched tight in front of her. Mom stiffened, but I didn’t let go. The blood was still wet, but for some reason and even knowing where it had come from, the feel of it didn’t gross me out. I felt bad for my mom, for what she must be feeling after failing to save a poor, defenseless animal. But even more than that I felt…hungry. “It’s…” I shook my head. “It’s not your fault it died.”

  “Amelia, are you feeling alright?”

  Realizing my grip on her hand had tightened, I stopped the motion of my tongue that was sliding over my teeth and abruptly walked to the door. “Um, yeah. I’m fine.” I changed to breathing through my mouth to dull the smell that was just as potent where I now stood, a whole eight feet further away. “Maybe, um…your next charity should be to stop illegal hunting. It’s bad enough to kill animals for sport, but that could have been your foot in the trap.” The visual made my mouth water even more as I envisioned flowing rivulets of blood. “Ah…it’s not safe.”

  The look on Mom’s face was a puzzle I couldn’t complete. “No. It’s not safe.”

  When she said nothing else, I turned toward the door, but spun back before I could leave. “Hey, Mom?”

  “Yes, sweetheart?”

  I knew now was the wrong time. I desperately needed space to clear my sinuses. But I had to know. “Is there something you haven’t told me?”

  Mom’s frown came as quickly as it went. She clutched and unclutched her hands. “Whatever about?”

  A pang of suspicion shot through my stomach. I suddenly felt sick. “My father.”

  She looked away with a shake of her head. When her eyes met mine, sadness resonated in them. “I’ve told you all you need to know many times before. But,” she added when I opened my mouth to object, “if it’ll make you feel better, we can have a chat tomorrow after school. Okay?”

  That pang increased in my gut. We’d never seen a photo of the man before, and Mom never offered to talk about him. Never. What was going on? “Ah, okay…” Tomorrow it was then, and I wasn’t taking any excuses for a rain check. I faked a smile. “Goodnight, Mom.”

  Chapter 4

  On the back streets, I kept running, cars passing as I sprinted past house after house. It was the following afternoon and today hadn’t been any better than yesterday. It had been worse. All day my amplified senses had assaulted me, distracting me to the point that I had needed to get a pass to go hide out in the bathrooms. Dorian had been at me again with questions about my weird behavior and if I was okay. He was sure something was up. So with my thoughts stuck between ‘what the hell?’ and ‘am I going crazy?’ I’d taken off from school in a mad dash. Aside from needing to escape my brother and a packed bus of teens, I wanted to get home to Mom. I needed to hear her story again and demand answers to the questions I had.

  Now I’d been running for twenty minutes and it didn’t even phase me. Unlike Dorian, I had never been into sports, and I’d never gotten into athletics. Not being puffed by now was weird. As weird as being able to detect exhaust fumes and old oil from cars, and the crisp freshness of snow (I didn’t know snow had a scent), while hearing far-off idling from car engines, and even tires gripping to asphalt. The sounds, the smells, my stamina… It was too much like my run into the forest yesterday before…I ran into that stalker guy. My body tightened at the thought and as that creepy watched feeling settled over me again, I slowed to a jog, then a brisk walk. I was on a quieter street now, with much less traffic and tall bushy trees lining the sidewalk. A steady breeze whipped my hair back from my face and bit through my clothes to my skin. Hugging my arms around me, I covertly glanced across the road. Then I looked behind—

  A honk made me jump and whirl. My heart bashed like a drum into my ribs.

  A car was on the road behind me, and the lights flashed on highs. A guy’s head poked out of the driver’s side window, a brilliant smile flashing his white teeth. “Wanna lift?”

  His features stripped the panic right out of me. Golden brown hair, handsome face, kind eyes, and excited expression. “Kendrick!” Not my creepy stalker, my best friend. Seeing clearly as my heart slowed back down, I realized he was driving my mom’s black Mercedes. Unlike me, he was already sixteen. “What are you doing here?”

  Kendrick pulled over and jumped out of the car. In two bounds he was right in front of me, lifting me up and swinging me around in his arms.

  I giggled and hugged him back as the familiar smell of him, teenage boy with his own individual spin, relaxed me in a way I’d been unable to feel over the past few days. “I missed you too.”

  Kendrick lowered my feet to the ground and took my hand. The way he smiled at me made me feel like I belonged, a way no one else in this world ever had before. “Your mom thought you needed to see me. But really?” he added when I opened my mouth to question him. “I wanted to come. It’s been almost a month and I missed you. Plus your uncle was making the trip so he picked me up on the way.”

  That niggling suspicion settled into my stomach like a layer of something that was living and growing. I was thrilled Kendrick was here, but I could see right through Mom. This was a diversion to prolong her promised chat. And Uncle Caius was here? I knew he’d come for our birthday, but he was a busy man. The unexpected trip just seemed too convenient.

  “You’re not happy to see me?”

  “Huh? What?” My eyes refocused and I saw the dejection and concern on Kendrick’s face. “Oh, no.” I gave his hand a squeeze. “Of course I am.”

  Kendrick’s smile returned. “Come on then.” Tilting his head back toward the car, I followed over the cracked sidewalk. Still holding my hand, he leaned in through the car’s window. “I know it’s not your birthday yet…” He reemerged a moment later with a small silver-and-purple wrapped present. “But I ordered this online and I wanted you to have it now.”

  I took the gift he offered and ripped open the paper. A smile graced my lips at what was inside. It was a cell phone case picturing one of my favorite bands. Three Days Grace. I threw my arms around Kendrick and kissed his cheek. “I love it.”

  Kendrick hugged me back and then let go a little abruptly. He opened the driver’s side door and slid into position, leaning over and pushing open the passenger door. “Get in!”

  I skipped around the car and dropped into the seat. Mom was smart, but I’d pick up what she’d postponed later on. “Where are we going?”

  “Just a drive.” Kendrick took the car out of park and merged back onto the road after a lonely car passed by. “I thought we could talk.”

  “Oh.” Unsure of what to say, I felt a sense of unease at the more serious smile he sent my way. “Okay.”

  It was silent for a little while as we drove from quieter residential streets to busier roads, the world outside rushing by in a blur of colorful shop fronts made monotone with the dreary weather, and then fading altogether. When the shops and houses dwindled away, brown, green, and white rushed
by. The road was winding, taking us further from Anchorage and up in elevation. A gentle haze permeated everything outside, stealing clarity and adding a dreamlike fog. “So you had a freak-out yesterday with you mom?”

  My mouth fell open. She’d told him. Why? I shook my head. “It was a misunderstanding. It was nothing.”

  “Are you sure?”

  No, I was anything but sure. I mean, what she’d said made sense, but after everything else that had happened yesterday, and then again today…

  “What about school? Is everything going okay at school?”

  I glanced sideways at him, wondering if Dorian had been talking to him too, telling him about my increasingly weird behavior. Then something occurred to me. I hadn’t even thought it was strange before; I’d been so caught up in the surprise of seeing my best friend. “Dorian called you, he told you I didn’t catch the bus?”

  “He’s a bit worried about you.” We reached a section of road that had a break between the trees with a log railing that looked out over the thick forest, Kendrick pulled the car over. Looking away from the hazy view, he placed his hand on my leg. “He said you haven’t quite been yourself.” He smiled and squeezed my thigh. “Wanna tell me about it? Maybe I can help?”

  His eyes seemed to be pleading for honesty—his eyes that were a unique silvery-blue color. The distinct color prodded my subconscious. I swear I’d seen that shade on someone new recently, but I couldn’t remember who. I thought of my stalker, wondering if it had been him, but his features were still a blur I couldn’t recall. “Ah…I…” I’d never kept anything from Kendrick, I trusted him completely, so why was I hesitating?

  Kendrick switched the car off and turned further in his seat, giving me his full attention. “You trust me, don’t you?”

  As much as I did my twin brother. Maybe even more. Praying that what I was about to say didn’t make him look at me like all the kids at school did, the words tumbled out of my mouth. “I think there’s something wrong with my senses. Smells seem stronger. My hearing is sharper too.”

 

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