by Martha Woods
“Those were meant to be a surprise for tonight,” I say, making my presence known. I look at Morgan who tries to ignore my stare. I have a feeling that he is responsible for getting something special for John. A part of me wonders if Morgan is starting to grow an attachment to the young boy.
“But I feel like I’m starving,” John is quick to defend. I can’t help but smile as I walk over to the table and break a donut in half, handing a half to John before I take a bite.
“So, what did they say?” Darien asks, ignoring the food on the table.
“Let’s wait till dinner,” I start as I finish the donut. “That way I only have to repeat myself once.”
“And will you be requiring my assistance this evening?” Morgan ask as he steps away from the table. I look at him and glance over at John who has stopped eating to watch what will happen next.
“I think we can manage without you for a small time. I’m sure you’ve complete whatever task my mother has assigned you. But if I find a need of your services, I know where to find you,” I explain as I tilt my head towards John. Both of them exchange a knowing smile before Morgan leaves the room. John seems to relax as he sits down at the table and offers Elizabeth a donut.
“I’m not hungry,” she says quietly as she stands and walks into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Darien stands to follow her but I quickly grab his hand and stop him.
“Just give her some time, Darien. It’s a lot to take in, for everyone,” I say, trying to comfort him with my touch. I hand him a piece of donut and finally he sits and enjoys the small morsel of food.
We sit at the table for a few minutes as John tells his brother of all the things he’s been seeing with Morgan throughout the day. He’s seen the kitchens, the arena, the school rooms, and has even been able to see a few of the races the dwell inside the Kingdom. John mentions how Morgan reacted when he came across a group of werewolves who had stopped by to deliver a new shipment.
“Werewolves make excellent traders. They are not as nearly effected by the cold like we are,” I pipe in.
“And what exactly is Morgan? I’ve noticed his eyes are black. Does that mean something different amongst your people?” Darien asks as he takes another donut and splits it between him and John.
“Has Morgan told you what he is, John?” I ask instead. John gives me a swift nod as he eats.
“Morgan is a vampire,” I tell Darien after I have confirmed that Morgan has shared his identity with this family. I let the words sink in as Darien considers them, his mouth agape at the realization.
“I guess that makes a lot of sense,” he says after a while. Finally, Elizabeth comes out of the bathroom, her face freshly scrubbed but I can tell she has been crying by the red skin around her eyes. She comes and stands next to me as I loop my arms around her and bring her close for a tight hug. I can feel her chest heave as she fights back the tears.
“Well, let’s head to dinner,” I suggest as I stand and lead Elizabeth after me. In the hallway, I receive several greetings from the people we pass. I try to be polite and return their looks but I also can’t ignore the way they stare at the family around me. Never have I ever seen a normal human in the Kingdom, so I know it’s an unusual sight. At least my title and position will give me a little leverage of what I can get away with.
I lead them to a well light dining room where a fire is burning in a large fire place. The room is exceptionally inviting as I offer Elizabeth a chair at the table and instruct John to sit next to her. I have Darien sit towards the head of the table and I sit directly across as I wait for my mother to take the head of the table.
“Well this is nice,” Darien comments as the double doors open and my mother and brother appear.
“Anastasi! I’m so glad your back,” Marcus exclaims as he rushes into the room and swoops me up in his arms.
“And I’m glad to see you’ve gotten your strength back. Does this mean you have finished your research?” I ask but before he can answer my mother motions for both of us to have a seat at the table. I relinquish the seat next to my mother to my brother as I sit next to him at the table.
“Anastasi. Would you be so kind to introduce your guests for this evening,” my mother suggests as she takes her seat.
“Of course. Melinda and Marcus Juravinski, may I introduce you to Darien, Elizabeth and John Mathews. They have traveled with me to receive council concerning Elizabeth’s coming of age,” I explain as I settle down into my seat.
“It is an honor to meet you Mrs. Juravinski,” Darien speaks as he extends his hand towards my mother. My mother smiles as she shakes his hand and then begins dinner by folding her napkin across her lap. Prompted by my mother’s gesture, dinner is quickly served and we fall into an awkward silence as we enjoy a few simple dishes.
“Marcus, I’m dying to know how your research is going,” I speak up after I have made sure my plate is completely cleared before I speak.
“Actually, I am hoping what you have to report will shed some light on my work. I’ve come to a standstill with my research and I’m hoping a new perspective might help me out,” Marcus replies as he glances over at our mother. She gives me a swift nod, inviting me to continue speaking.
“When I was inside the token trap, there was a djinn and his slave muse. Together they created a powerful token. During my time there, the djinn betrayed his muse, tricking her into thinking she would be free. Once she realized what had happened, she told me about the reality of the trap we were in. She explained that we had been pulled into my subconscious and that I was only dreaming. When I had touched the token, we all became trapped in my mind. I simply had to wake up to escape. She explained that when we travel to the supernatural realm, our spirits travel through and our bodies are left behind.”
“So, your saying that you were able to reach the supernatural realm through dreaming?” Marcus asks as he finishes his food.
“The more I think about what happened, the more it makes sense. When I let my powers burn everything around me, I woke to the same position I had fallen unconscious in. Only the token was no longer active. I’m thinking that if we can find a way to trigger an unconscious transition into the supernatural realm, we may be able to destroy the gates without having to go through them,” I explain.
“But how will this help me?” Elizabeth speaks up. I look over at her and realize she has hardly touched her food.
“By closing the gates and sealing the supernatural realm from ours, the fire we control may be sealed in that realm since our powers originate from that place,” my mother explains. I wait to see if she is going to say anything more but eventually she turns her gaze back to me.
“The masters agree. There is nothing we can do at this moment to withdraw the powers from our beings. For now, we must precede with finding a way to destroy the gates and the remaining tokens on Earth,” I conclude. I can’t look up at Darien, afraid of what this news might affect him. My mother looks pleased as she dabs the edge of her mouth with her napkin and lays it across her plate.
“I will inform the generals in the morning. I’m sure they would appreciate your rendition,” my mother says as she stands and pushes in her chair. I nod in agreement as Marcus stands and follows my mother out of the room, leaving me only with a weak smile for encouragement.
“So, that’s it then,” Darien says harshly as he tosses his napkin on the table. “We just sit around till your people can defeat this unseen evil so my family can return home?”
I’m not quite sure what to say because I don’t have a different option to give them. “There is a school Elizabeth and John can attend while they are here. And if they choose too, they can attend the training session with the other children their ages,” I offer.
“I don’t think they should be around your people,” Darien scoffs as he stands and motions for Elizabeth and John to do the same.
“You’ve been around my people your entire life, Darien. You just didn’t realize it till now. Your parents d
ealt with antiques and always sent token our way anytime they found them. They knew of this world and so should you,” I say sternly. I feel Darien is over reacting, but I can neither blame him or try to change his mind. Before he can speak I raise my hand to silence him. “We can talk more about this in the morning. For now, please get some rest. Tomorrow I’ll take you around the Kingdom so you can become more familiarized by your new surroundings.”
The three of them leave without saying another word. As I stare into the fire in the fireplace, anger boils within me as I throw my plate against the wall. I see the blue flames rising from my skin as I remind myself to calm down. I take a few deep breaths before leaving the room and returning to my chambers. I quickly undress and pull on a simple black nightgown before climbing into bed where I disappear under a thick layer of furs.
I can’t help but sob as I think of the way Darien looked at me once he realized he wouldn’t be leaving any time soon. A part of me felt betrayed compared to the way he had kissed me and held me in his arms just a few nights ago. Eventually, I coax myself into calming my breathing and stilling my shaking body. Now that I have returned to the Kingdom, I need to start acting like the warrior I was raised to be. I remember my mother’s council. I need to forget my emotions and focus on the most logic path to follow. If I am ever going to have a chance of being with Darien, I need to help my people find a way to destroy the gates and banish the supernatural realm, and our powers, forever.
Bonus Book 4
Mysteries of a Vampire
Martha Woods
© 2016 Martha Woods
All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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For permissions contact: [email protected]
Chapter 1
Sara Bishop was standing over a pot of boiling broth, stirring it while the aroma wafted through the house. That morning, before she went to school, she filled the pot with chicken bones, carrots, onions and celery, along with a healthy helping of garlic and peppercorns. Then Sara covered it and set it on low. When she got home from school, she would smell it all the way up the street.
She used a mesh strainer to separate the liquid from the rest of the ingredients and poured it back into the pot. She planned on making chicken and dumplings. It was comfort food at its best because it reminded her of when she was a kid, and her mother used to make them during the winter.
Her mother just got a job at the hospital, working as an RN where they forced her to work long hours, often early in the morning too late at night and sometimes she worked two shifts to cover for some of the other workers. When that happened, Sara never got to see her at all. She usually found herself sitting in the silent house, waiting for her mother to get off work.
The silence got so bad that nothing seemed to be able to penetrate it. She tried keeping the TV on, staring at the box mindlessly but her eyes kept drifting towards the dining room clock. Music didn’t help much either. Nothing seemed to fill the void, so she did little things that she knew would make her mother’s life easier.
She swept and vacuumed, scrubbed the kitchen and cleaned out the refrigerator, anything to help her pass the time. Cooking was the one thing that made the wait easier. Sara's Mother loved it. There would be home cooked meals sitting on the table every single night. Sara would make the table a place for them to gather, setting it with flowers, candles, and little decorations to make it inviting.
She was an artist, not in the general sense. She was terrible at painting and drawing, but cooking gave her a way to channel her energies into something(omit). She imbued everything with herbs and spices that enhanced the ambiance of the evening.
Some days were coriander and thyme. Other were oregano and basil. It all depended on upon the atmosphere that night. Some dishes were comfortable like soup; others were fiery like curry. She kept all of her recipes in a faux parchment book she bought online, sitting on a shelf above the stone.
Sara reached up to grab it, trying to avoid knocking over the spice containers. When her fingers finally rubbed against the rough surface of the cover, she stood up on her tiptoes and grabbed onto it. She was too short to pull it out in one swipe so she had to stand as tall as she could and edge it across the bottom of the cupboard.
It was leaning over the brink of the shelf when it came crashing down and fell right at the edge of the hot burner. Sara snatched the book up before it could catch fire and rushed it to the kitchen table.
As soon as she sat down, her phone started ringing. She pulled it out of her pocket and answered. “Hey, mom.”
“Hey, sweetie.” She sounded rushed. “How’s it going?”
“I'm making dumplings,” she announced proudly.
“I hope you make a bunch.”
“I will.”
“Hey, listen. I’m going to head home pretty soon.”
“It’s only 6.” She never got out early.
“I know. I got somebody else to cover the rest of my shift.”
“Really?” She nearly jumped with excitement.
“Yup.”
“I’ll get everything ready. I’ll see you soon.”
“Alright. Love you.”
“You too.”
Dinner had to be perfect so she took her time, pouring her energy into getting it done. Sara sautéed chicken and mixed up the dumpling mix, carefully plopping the little balls of dough into the broth and timing them just right so they didn’t get too hard. Everything was almost finished when she heard the door open, and her mother walked in.
“Hey.” She was sweaty with her bright red hair tied up in a messy bun. “Oh, my God, Sara. That looks amazing.” She walked up and gave her daughter a hug. Sara had placed the biscuits in a basket and on the table, along with a vase of carefully arranged orchids and surrounded by a row of candles.
“Thank you.”
Bridgett sat down to catch her breath. “So how was school?”
Sara sat across from her. “Tiring. I had a calculus exam today.”
“You aced it, though. I know you did.”
“I did, but it wasn’t easy.”
“You’re doing fine.”
“I hope so. You want some soup,” Sara started to sit up.
“Let me just go and get dressed first. I need a shower.”
Suddenly Sara heard her mum scream. She hopped over the glass she had dropped and rushed to get up to her mother's room as fast as she could.
When she reached the bedroom door, it was locked so Sara backed up and threw her shoulder into it. “Mom!” The door flew open so hard she hit the ground.
Sara didn’t see it until she looked up and its white-hot eyes met hers. It wasn’t human. It was moving underneath the pale skin of a man. The second Sara saw it, it was gone, through the open window.
Chapter 2
“Mom!” Sara pulled out her phone and ran into the bathroom. Her mother’s pale body had blocked off the drain, sending a mixture of blood and water trickling over the edge of the tub. Sara didn’t want to move or even think. To do so would be to acknowledge that she was alive, the world was real and that her mother was actually dead. Sara couldn’t open her eyes because every time she did Sara saw her mother eyes. They were so green, they popped, sneaking out from behind the shower curtain.
Sara stood up, her back turned to the bathtub, drenched in bloody water, trying to decide what to do. They were going to have to be reunited. “I’m coming.” There was blood pouring from her mangled neck. Sara kissed her on the forehead and walked out into her room to where
her closet was.
She chose her favorite black cocktail dress. She was supposed to wear it for her graduation party. She looked in the mirror. Her face might have been stained with tears and covered in blood, but it didn't match her short black hair. It still curved in around the chin, enhancing her porcelain doll features.
She topped her outfit off with a pair of black stilettos. Then she walked back into her bathroom and pulled out a bottle of OxyContin and poured a handful into her hand.
Once she made the decision to do it, Sara felt relieved. There was no reason to grieve any longer, no need to cry. She was going to be with her mother. Even if there were no afterlife, then at least she would be free. If you don’t exist, you can’t feel pain, or grieve or cry. She wouldn’t feel empty. She wouldn’t feel anything. She would be gone, and she wouldn’t have to live without her mother. This was her only option.
She walked out to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Her tears were dry. She almost felt like smiling. It would be easier this way. She wouldn’t have to sit and wait for her mother to come home. There would be no separation, no earthly obligations. The dead don’t need nurses. They don’t have hospitals either. Sara would be joined with her mother in death.
She looked down at the bottle of OxyContin. She’d heard that opiate overdose was a sweet death, painless and easy.
Sara walked into her mother’s bathroom. Where she laid down next to her and ran her finger along her mother’s jawline. This was the woman that had held her when she was a child, smiling down, dancing her fingers over Sara's cheeks to make her laugh. Bridgett fed her, clothed her and brought her life. Now she had her throat ripped out, and her body was so pale it was blue.
They were meant to be together. Every moment they were apart was torture. This was the right thing to do. Sara popped the pills in her mouth and swallowed them. Then she walked back to the bed and laid her head on the pillow giving off the scent of her mother’s perfume.
