Sanctuary: Book One of Bloodlines

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Sanctuary: Book One of Bloodlines Page 11

by C. L. Stevens


  “Enough. I said enough!” Her father shouted and the combatants went silent though if looks could kill, the room would have been bathed in blood. Her father paced the room, his hand on his bearded chin in thought.

  “I just don't know.” He said finally.

  “Do you not you see, this child is a gift.” Her godfather said, gesturing liberally with each word. “House Uvarii will have the only living Ablanq. She is young. If we can give her roots in our garden, she can be an invaluable tool for us.”

  “Elaborate.” Her mother commanded, looking quite intrigued.

  “It's too risky I tell you…” Saerce began but cut off at a look from her father. He continued to shake his head in refutation of the idea though while mumbling incessantly. She heard her aunt mumbling as well and managed to pick up a few words, coward being the most amiable.

  “I say let the ceremony go forward. Let the two become blood friends and give her all the respect due. It will only tie her to us more securely.” Her godfather continued.

  “And she can be watched closely.” Her father added, seemingly for Saerce’s benefit.

  “Yes.” Her godfather agreed. “Though I genuinely feel it won't be necessary. From what I could gather from the bonding, she is an open book. Strong, yes, but the pages are open to the world. It is up to us to fill those pages with words that will suit house Uvarii.”

  “But you said she resisted you,” Saerce argued. “How did you gather such detailed information if that is the case?”

  “Because the child was more open than any but a babe.” He replied softly. Meilin got the impression he was now mostly just talking to himself like he was prone to do these days. “It was as if her soul has nothing to hide.” He continued, sounding now curious and contemplative. “Almost as if there is no malice there at all.”

  “So, she’s innocent as a babe.” Her father said with a dry chuckle. “I don't believe that for a moment. No one has nothing to hide.” He said with sincere conviction. “No one.”

  “I agree my lord.” Saerce readily agreed.

  None of the others refuted the claim. Meilin had to agree but one fact could not be ignored. And she gave voice to it.

  “She could have fled to safety, but not only did she fight by my side, her captor no less, but refused to leave me to die. There is honor in her, and courage.”

  “Sun and shadow, you admire her.” Her aunt accused. “No.” She stated, following a gasp. “You have truly bonded with her, haven't you? You two are already blood friends.”

  Her lack of response was confirmation enough for all. Saerce swore an oath and her parents stared at her as if they had never seen her before.

  “Well, killing the child is certainly bloodless now.” Her godfather stated sarcastically, though Meilin sensed he was pleased.

  “It certainly is.” Her mother agreed wholeheartedly.

  “What would possess you to do something so reckless, my dear?” Her father asked, practically radiating disappointment.

  Her feelings seemed to spiral further and further into the bottomless pit of shame with each emanating pulse. Oh, how she hated to disappoint her father. But she had no idea how she could explain her actions. They just seemed right at the time, despite being so obviously wrong. She didn't even realize what she was doing until it was already done. Desiree lay there unconscious from whatever the surgeons had given her and she had just… done it.

  “I do not know Father. It is something that I cannot properly explain. But it felt right.”

  “If I didn't know better, I would think you bonded with the child just to have her all to yourself.” Her aunt said accusingly. “I am not sure that I do know better.” She concluded with a frown her way.

  “Such a shame. If her blood makes us that much stronger, she should have been a resource for us all.” Saerce said almost wistfully.

  “The bond was needed.” Her godfather was saying. “To have her here in that capacity would have required enslaving the girl and it would have never worked. We would have empowered her every time we tried to use her. She would have escaped sooner or later with much loss of life. This is the only way.”

  “We will have to control when and how she finds out what she truly is.” Her mother added. “That knowledge given at the wrong time or in the wrong way could have similar results.”

  Her father was nodding his agreement.

  “Have all information removed from the library.” He rubbed his chin as he considered. “Bring that information to me. I will keep it safe and besides, I wish to know more about our newest member of the family.”

  “It is settled then.” Her aunt announced with a sigh. She placed a hand on her shoulder and spoke in a whisper.

  “I hope you know what you are doing my niece.”

  You and me both aunt. You and me both.

  CHAPTER 10

  Hanna was moving toward the door before the first soft knocks came. She pulled the door open to reveal a short and voluptuous woman with tribal-like tattoos covering both arms in sleeves of dark ink. They stood out prominently on the woman’s caramel skin and combined with the ample piercings did a marvelous job robbing the woman of most of her natural feminine softness and beauty. But Hanna didn't need her for her appearance. She had contracted the woman for her other… gifts.

  Constance was what was called Gifted in fact. A descendant of the now extinct witches of old. Gifted only possessed a tiny fraction of a witch's power, but that was more arcane power than anyone else. It was the only real magic left in the world, meager as it might be.

  “You are late,” She chastened as she stepped aside to let the shorter woman pass through the doorway. She looked around and found the courtyard of the apartment complex empty save for old convenience store soft drink cups, fast food bags and other trash the residents of the slum just tossed to the ground wherever they finished with the items. They were a disgusting group of humans but they minded their own business and like the girl's magic, that was all that mattered. That was the sole reason they had a safe house here, one of many such apartments. She had learned long ago that better neighborhoods and richer humans usually meant more humans concerning themselves with what their neighbors were doing and all too eager to pass that information to anyone who would listen.

  “I had to swim through 4 feet of trash just to get to the door.” The woman complained. “I don't understand why you always want to meet here. I should start charging you double for having me come to a place where the people are too stupid to not shit where they eat.”

  “Classy as always I see Constance,” Otarin said, stepping into the living room.

  Hanna winced inwardly. Why did the man always have to be so… untactful?

  “What are you doing here?” Constance demanded angrily. “You never said anything about him being here.” She snapped, jerking her thumb towards the male as she addressed Hanna.

  “It was I who hired you,” Otarin replied.

  Hanna was happy to see that he was at least trying to keep his voice level though his eyes held enough heat to boil blood. What reasons he had to be upset she couldn't fathom. Constance was the best and he knew it and he knew that they needed her. She had never failed them in the past no matter how difficult the task. But their last job for her had turned… bloody. The girl had blamed Otarin and rightly so. The fool never could properly contain his bloodlust.

  She stepped over to block the door when the girl made a move for it. Constance raised her hand threateningly and Hanna raised her hands to show she was no threat. She was sure the crazy girl knew that she couldn't possibly handle both her and Otarin simultaneously, not with her flanked like this but one couldn't be too careful. She stepped away from the door just in case.

  “Wait. Wait, Constance. Hear us out before you miss out on a great opportunity.” She said. “You know me. I would have never called you here if I did not have an offer you couldn't refuse despite the… circumstances. I promise you it is worth your while.”

  The gir
l stopped and eyed her suspiciously. She turned to Otarin with a sour look before turning back to look her in the eye.

  “How much worth my while?” The woman asked after a pause.

  “This much,” Otarin answered and tossed something at her. The woman snatched it out of the air deftly and she heard a grunt of surprise when she saw what it was. She watched as Constance ran a thumb along the edge of the thick stack of bills and knew she would find only triple-digit denominations.

  “What's the job?” She asked them cautiously.

  “Nothing that a talented Gifted like you cannot handle,” Hanna assured her. “A simple Aided Push on a human. We need you to compel the girl to leave the Uvarii coven.”

  “You know as well as I do that it would be difficult for any Gifted to reach someone, even a human mind in their sanctuary,” Constance said. “The buffers… What is the link?”

  “Not to worry,” Otarin assured her. “We have the human's blood.”

  “Well,” Constance said in surprise. “I take it you want it to be him considering the large sum? Yeah, I thought so.”

  Hanna watched the girl grimace, no doubt just at the mere thought of being linked to Otarin again but smoothed her features as she thumbed through the stack of one-hundred-dollar bills again. She stepped further into the small apartment and kneeled in front of the coffee table. With a wave of her hand, the bowl of plastic fruit slid across the table with a scraping sound before coming to rest on the ugly brown carpet.

  “Let's get started then,” She said.

  Hanna retrieved the bag and placed it on the table before the Gifted. Inside the clear plastic was delicate strips of cloth, probably once a blouse, floating in a pool of blood. So much blood. It would be far more than they needed for a simple push. Otarin knelt on the other side of the table and leaned forward towards Constance. He looked determined, eager even. Or maybe that was just the smell of the blood before him.

  Constance placed a hand inside the bag and plunged two fingers into the pool and closed her eyes in concentration. After a few moments, her eyes fluttered and she spoke.

  “There is the essence of two here,” She said, her voice sounding hollow. “Vampire.” She added a moment later. “One of you?”

  “There can't be more than traces of any but the human’s,” Hanna replied, dodging the question. “Concentrate on the stronger connection.”

  After another few moments, the Gifted’s other hand came up and rested the same two fingers as those submerged in the blood and placed them onto Otarin’s left temple. Before long, sooner than Hanna could have believed possible, the girl smiled, showing perfect white teeth.

  “I have her!” She announced, sounding even more surprised than Hanna felt.

  Desired walked as if in a trance as she was led along. Her mind felt as if it were unraveling. Images, or was it memories, flashed in and out of her head too fast to make sense of them. Voices coalesced together to form an indecipherable cacophony that seemed to have nothing at all to do with the images they accompanied. It was a chore to just put one foot in front of the other. She willed herself to picture only one thought in her mind. One image in her thoughts. For what seemed like an eternity nothing changed. But slowly the voices began to make sense. The images became recognizable. Soon, the audio matched the picture so to speak. All of a sudden, she became aware that the person guiding her was speaking.

  “I’m okay,” She replied finally to the woman’s unending flow of questions. “I’m fine now.”

  “Excellent,” Elizabeta replied. “You had me worried a bit for a while there.” Elizabeta extended her hand gingerly, almost as if she were afraid she would recoil or something and touched her arm reassuringly.

  Elizabeta led her through a dining room with several long tables and into a large kitchen. The smell of fresh baked bread, bacon and familiar spices did nothing to arouse her appetite. If anything, she felt as if she would be sick. A short, balding man in his middle years and wearing a pristine white apron greeted them cheerfully.

  “Can I be of assistance, my lady.” He asked, bowing to Elizabeta.

  “Yes. I believe you can… Ronald, was it? Did I remember your name correctly?”

  “Why yes indeed my lady. I do be Ronald.”

  Desiree thought that he sounded entirely too surprised and happy that the woman simply remembered his name.

  “Ronald,” She began coaxingly, “This young woman is Desiree, an honored guest of miss Meilin.” She said the name as if it should hold some importance for the man but clearly not to her.

  “It is the Lady Uvarii’s wish that she gets something warm put into her. Bring a generous plate, Ronald.”

  “That's really not necessary…” Desiree tried to say but the man ran off nodding his head all the while.

  Elizabeta bade her take a seat at the large dining table and moved to sit on the other side. Desiree sat down gratefully, her head having not yet recovered completely. When she looked up, she found the woman studying her openly. Normally things like that made her very uncomfortable but this time it did not bother her at all. In fact, she found herself studying the other woman just as candidly in turn.

  Her hair was a lustrous auburn, and it seemed to sparkle as it caught the light as she swayed slightly from side to side. Her skin was flawless of course and she had a nice healthy size to her, not skinny or large but more of an athletic frame. She wore a very eye-catching pendant set with a large gem, probably an emerald that set off her eyes perfectly. She was also full breasted and obviously had no qualms about displaying those assets. One would think that the sum of these parts would equal beauty beyond compare, but in fact, she was only pretty at best. At best. She found herself wondering why that was when Ronald returned and placed a huge tray in front of her. She looked up at him in surprise and then down at the tray, or platter would have been a better word for it.

  “I did not know what you fancied my lady so I took the liberty of adding a generous helping of everything.” He said to her and bowed several times as he backed away. Did he just call me My Lady?

  Well, he was certainly true to his word. The platter held a large assortment of foods, easily enough to feed three or four people. There were two different kinds of bacon, three of sausage, some in strips with others in patty form, scrambled eggs, an omelet, hash browns, smothered potatoes, a block of white crumbly cheese and thick slices of freshly baked bread. She just sat there with her mouth wide open until the man returned and plopped two large pitchers next to the platter. He hurried away before Desiree could say anything. She looked at Elizabeta helplessly.

  “I feel terrible that he went to all this trouble.” She said apologetically. “I tried to tell him that I am not really hungry. I am not feeling too hot right now.”

  “You should try to eat a little. Trust me, it will make you feel better.” The woman promised. She eyed her much too knowingly. As if she knew some secret.

  “Are you not hungry?” She asked reflexively. “Take whatever you wish.” Her face paled as she remembered who she was addressing. She reached out, positively mortified but couldn't find the words to apologize.

  “I am a bit hungry,” Elizabeta replied smiling broadly. “But I am afraid this would do me little good, to say the least.” She said, gesturing sadly to the steaming platter. Her face suddenly beamed.

  “Oh, but you already knew that. You were offering yourself to me then?” She smiled again, but this time her perfect teeth sported large fangs and her eyes took on a predatory look that reminded her of a cat just before it pounced. Suddenly she was leaning over the table, reaching for her hand. She snatched it back with a squeak.

  “No.” She said hurriedly. “I mean to say, that I can't. Meilin insists that I am only for her.”

  “Ah, blood friends,” Elizabeta said calmly, as she sat back down. Every trace of the killer's mask was gone and only that smile, that infernal, mocking smile remained. Desiree suddenly realized that she had never intended to feed on her, only to unnerve her
. The fact that it worked irked her no end.

  “But I think that rule was only to protect your secret.” She was saying. “Since I know the secret, since I know what you are, perhaps it would be OK.”

  “What do you mean?” She tried to sound casual but the words announced her perturbation to even the most unperceptive ear.

  Elizabeta laughed out loud at her words. She got up and walked around the table to her, the amusement still heavy in her eyes.

  “That you are so… satisfying my dear.” She replied with a wink. “I will be back shortly.” She said and briskly walked from the room. But from around the corner, she heard the vampire add, “You really should try to eat something.”

  Desiree sat there digesting the encounter long after the woman had gone. She figured that she should at least try and eat something since she was here. Not from any desire for the food but because she didn't want to seem like such an ungracious guest. It certainly had nothing to do with Elizabeta’s advice.

  She willed herself to snatch up one of the strips of bacon and took a liberal bite. It was still warm but tasted a bit odd. It tasted good, it was bacon after all but different somehow. Oh, it's turkey bacon! She thought it was tasty but to be sure she picked up the other kind of bacon for reference.

  Does she really know what I am? It certainly seemed so. Something about the way she said it. She decided to try some of the eggs. They appeared to have something scrambled into them. Mm, that's good but spicy. Ah! Must be peppers.

  She fanned her open mouth with her hand while she looked around for something to drink. Oh wow, that really is hot!

  She eyed the pitchers with their beaded drops of condensation on its sides, promising relief but couldn't find a cup. Finally, she just decided to drink from the pitcher and tipped the first one to her lips, not caring what it held, only taking solace in the fact that it was cold. And indeed, ice cold liquid splashed across her tongue, quenching the fires.

  Oh good, Apple juice. And sweet! What do they do, grow their own apple trees?

 

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