Climbing into bed, Jenda closed her eyes and focused on the music streaming from her iPod. She blocked out her worries and her fears. She let the sound of her favorite band, Yellowcard, ease the stress from her body and mind. The melody surrounded her in a peaceful sadness. The tears squeezed out from her closed lids and rolled down her face.
As the music blurred into the background and her breathing steadied, Jenda created the vast desert that she so loved when she was in her darker moods. She built the plateau where she would stand and survey the great dark scenery. She designed each piece carefully, knowing that the slightest flaw could ruin her mission. She molded her crystal tree.
That’s when the intruder came.
He began to overtake her world. His presence was so powerful that Jenda lost control over the very place she held most sacred. The tall, dark-haired stranger and his menacing smile hadn’t really attacked her as much as held her prisoner in his ironclad grip that was as cold as ice. He had stolen Soborgne’s crystal from her tree and Jenda had cut herself trying to get it back. The intruder had reacted bizarrely to the small amount of blood she had lost in the squabble for the gem. It occurred to Jenda that this behavior, his pale skin, plus the red tinged eyes and tiny protruding fangs, all pointed to one conclusion: vampire.
Jenda shivered in the cool air of her room. She sat staring at her hand in disbelief. The logical side of her questioned her sanity more than ever. She could explain away the small cut on her palm. She could rationalize that she had flung her hand out in her sleep and cut it on the edge of the nightstand. The other marks she could not explain. Even as she stared at her wrist, the red welts were turning more and more purple by the minute.
Jenda thought she was going to lose her mind for sure, she just couldn’t believe this. She accepted that she had been walking in some parallel world, she had felt herself transition to and from the hazy existence of the place beyond. What she couldn’t believe was that the intruder was able to attack her. Both common sense and the expert on the website she had researched said that this couldn’t happen. Yet Jenda’s wrist was proof that it could. Maybe other humans walking the astral planes could not attack, but a vampire could. The question was, did she believe that vampires were real?
A thought struck her like lightning, and Jenda leapt towards the bed. The crystal had been in her hand when she came back through. It cut her and she could feel it when she jolted from her meditation. She flung the covers and sheets back searching for the tiny bauble. She frantically ran her hands over the bed, finding nothing.
Exasperated that she couldn’t find it, Jenda gave one more tug on the heavy quilt, and she heard a small clink of something like glass hitting the floor. Jenda whirled around to see the small crystal filled with purple smoke lying on the floor. Just as her hand closed around it, she realized that the crystal wasn’t the only thing she had brought back with her.
8
He stood looking at her from the darkest corner of her room. The glow of the open laptop only enhanced his ethereal beauty. Jenda had never seen skin so white and unblemished. She wanted to touch it almost as badly as she wanted to run screaming from her room. She could do neither. Her will to move and any instincts of self-preservation had vanished. She simply stood staring at the man, the intruder, and he stared right back.
The song on the iPod changed and his attention briefly shifted to the music. A playful smile enlivened his face and Jenda could hear his soft laughter. Slightly irritated, she wondered exactly what the private joke was. She may be staring death in the face, but he was not going to come into her room and laugh at her choice of music. She refused to be entertainment for this monster in her room.
Again, as if he had read her mind, the intruder’s attention focused on her. His stare held her suspended in mid-thought. Jenda felt like a puppet on strings and this stranger was her puppeteer. As she stood powerless, he spoke in that deep melancholy voice that she had heard before.
“Please don’t be offended, my little Baobhan Sith.” He spoke the last word with an accent that hinted of faraway places. It came out Buh-van She. “I do not laugh at you. I am amused by my own thoughts. I am intrigued that the music of today could have the same primal beat it had centuries ago. I like your little toys, they bring me rare amusement.”
Jenda was shocked at the ease with which the man spoke to her. His words made it sound as if the two of them were well acquainted, and this was just a nice simple conversation. She continued to stand frightened and dazed. Jenda was unable to run, to speak, or to fight. He had somehow immobilized her with his very presence. The only thing she could do was think, and her mind was erratic and full of contradictions. She found the sadness in his voice and the longing in his eyes when he looked at her disturbingly alluring. An unnamed magnetism held her. Even as she shivered with fear, her heart beat in excitement. Jenda’s mind seemed to split into two halves: one that knew her increasing desire for him must be some type of magic clouding her judgment, and the other that just didn’t care. She wanted to reach out to this man. She thought that simply touching the roundness of his jaw or running her fingers down his chest would bring her tremendous pleasure. The logical side of her wanted to find some object and gouge his eyes out while she screamed for her parents to save her. Jenda couldn’t understand the war going on inside her, so she stood weeping and hoping that someone would come.
The intruder approached her slowly. He deliberately took each step and held his hands out in front of him, palms up. It reminded Jenda of how someone might approach a wounded animal. He came so close to her that she could feel his breath on top of her head, and the icy chill emanating from his skin. Her nose was an inch from his powerful chest when he stopped. His hand slid up to her cheek and he ran his thumb across the bone softly. Jenda was almost knocked over by a wave of desire like she had never felt before. She wanted nothing more than to wrap herself up in him and revel in the coldness of his flesh.
His face turned down towards her and he tilted her head back so that their lips were merely inches apart. She could see his eyes and they were not black or red now. They were cobalt blue and full of an intensity that both frightened and excited Jenda. The wave of desire turned into a roaring fire that burned inside her, powerful and strong. No high school boy had ever caused this kind of want in her. Her lifeless limbs tingled and her flesh craved the coolness of his hand. She didn’t understand why, but her desire for him was so sudden and so powerful that it completely overwhelmed her. She felt she’d rather die than leave the arms that now encircled her.
The intruder stiffened, and took a step back from her. The few extra inches felt like a million miles. She longed to close the gap between them until she realized exactly what she was thinking. This was a monster. Unable to react because of the paralysis, Jenda stood helpless against the vampire. She was disgusted with herself and she was angry with this interloper. Why didn’t he kill her? Why was he standing here even now wiping away her tears? Was he trying to comfort her? Was this intruder a beast who liked to play with his food?
As she thought this, he reeled back several feet as though he’d been slapped in the face. His eyes blazed the black glass button color again. He gave her a ferocious look and growled, “I have a name, and I am no beast who toys with its food.” The look of pure fury on his face made Jenda want to shrink away. She was so frightened now that she saw nothing but the memory of his blood-tinged eyes and the two wicked sharp canines she had seen before.
She didn’t see him move. One second he was standing five feet away from her snarling like a mad dog, and the next she was in his arms and they were moving at an incredible speed. She heard the window smash and her final thought before passing out was that her mother would think she had jumped.
9
Jenda felt sluggish and the world around her spun as she opened her eyes. She knew something bad had happened and that she should be afraid but she couldn’t concentrate. She had been trying to find out about Soborgne when something had
gone wrong. All she could conjure was the notion that something had been brought back with her, and it was dangerous. She couldn’t remember where she had been or what it was that was dangerous, though.
As her vision cleared, Jenda glanced around the room. Being careful not to move until she was certain she was alone, she let her eyes sweep over her surroundings. Jenda realized she was lying on an enormous four-poster bed. The canopy that hung above her was swathed with thick white curtains and lighter gossamer. The bedclothes felt as if they were made of expensive materials and the mattress was extremely soft and comfortable.
From her supine position on the bed, Jenda was unable to see much other than the canopy without moving. She was almost positive that no one else was in the room with her and she hoped fervently that it was safe to move. Out of sheer desperation, Jenda tried to raise herself from where she lay so that she could at least know where she was.
As soon as she attempted to right herself, Jenda felt nausea hit her like a fist to the abdomen. She began to expel a frothy red liquid onto the floor. The sight of the fluids made her vomit even more. Finally, she stopped heaving. Relief ran through her for that small favor. She ran through a mental check of her body. Her head was clearing quickly and she found it easier to think. She remembered the attempt at astral projection, she remembered the intruder, and then it all came cascading in. Her cheeks flamed at the recollection of the feelings the intruder had caused in her. Then she remembered him furiously stealing her away in the night.
Jenda lay weak and helpless, crying heavily at the knowledge that she had been kidnapped by a monster. She had no obvious pain and all her limbs seemed sluggish but capable of movement. Didn’t vomiting blood usually mean that you had internal injuries? Gently she probed her abdomen with her fingers. No sharp pains, no obvious injury.
Her self-diagnosis ended abruptly when a movement at the corner of the room caught her eye. A small girl, probably only a few years younger than Jenda, stood partially hidden there. Jenda called out to her and the girl shrank back further into the shadows.
“Please, please can’t you help me?” Jenda pleaded. “Can’t you see I’m not well? I need help. Please come here, I won’t hurt you.” She tried to use the voice she had often heard her mother use when she was scared.
The girl finally eased forward but kept her eyes down. Her dirty brown hair hung limp and lifeless in front of her face and her clothes were clean but tattered. Still, Jenda could see that she had once been and maybe still could be an attractive girl. God only knew what had happened to her at the hands of the mad man that had captured her. It was a wonder the girl didn’t look worse than she did.
As the girl approached the bed where Jenda was lying, she seemed to lose her former uneasiness. When she spoke, she was rather stern. “They said if I take good care of you ma’am, I’ll get to go outside tomorrow. So you just lay back there and let me clean this mess up and don’t cause me no trouble, okay? I won’t harm a hair on your pretty head but if you go acting crazy, I will call him and let him deal with ya. I have been here long enough to know not to disobey, but I’m not gonna go getting beat on by some girl up here in the rooms.”
The girl said the word rooms as if it were some grand thing to be here. Jenda nodded slowly and reassured the girl that she’d be no trouble. Before questioning her, Jenda began to assess the room. Obviously, if the girl had been here a long time she either couldn’t or didn’t want to escape and she would be no use to Jenda in an attempt to run away.
The sparse room held few objects of immediate interest or concern and none held any promise of safety for her. The theme seemed to be that of a luxury prison. The only thing not luxurious about it was the small but thick chain that ran from one of the posts to the center of the bed. Shocked, Jenda pulled away the covers and realized that a metal cuff lined with leather and wool was securely fastened to her ankle. She was chained to the bed.
The girl jumped skittishly at Jenda’s movement and her eyes grew round with surprise. Jenda was filled with rage and she turned on the girl. “What the hell? Why am I chained up? Who is keeping me here?” She screamed curses she never imagined could come from her own mouth. The girl backed away, holding the bloody towel she had used to clean up Jenda’s vomit out in front of her like a shield.
Jenda scrambled out of the bed, steadily gaining on the girl. She had no idea what she was going to do but she wanted to get her hands on her pretty neck and snap it. Just when she thought she might get the chance, she lurched to a stop. Almost falling on her face, Jenda ran out of chain. Infuriated, she screamed another long string of curses and looked wildly around for something to hurl at the girl.
Before Jenda could find such a weapon, the girl scampered out the door and slammed it shut. Seconds later, Jenda heard a heavy latch being drawn. Trapped and chained, her fury subsided into a desolate misery. She walked back towards the bed with her head hung in defeat. The sound of the chain dragging behind her grated at her nerves. She felt nauseous again and assumed that the physical exertion coupled with her emotional fluctuations had caused her body to want to expel the vile liquids that someone must have forced into her.
Before she could reach the bed, Jenda heard the latch being lifted and she turned towards the door. She couldn’t fight while feeling so ill, but she would not be found defenseless lying in a pool of her own bloody vomit, either. Expecting the servant girl again, Jenda was shocked to see the intruder entering into the room. Instinct made her move the farthest distance possible, but being tied to the bed left her at a huge disadvantage.
He approached her quickly and closed the distance between them in a few long strides. He looked even more beautiful in the light of the room than he had in the darkness. His dark hair, deep blue eyes, and the glow of his skin reminded Jenda of someone she had once seen but could not quite remember. His eyes were not tainted by darkness or blood. She didn’t exactly understand the changes that took place in them but she knew that when his eyes were blue he was less of a danger to her.
She tried to pull away when he reached out to take her hand but her reflexes were too slow. He brought it gently to his lips, and then turning it, he kissed her palm with an intimacy of lovers rather than a psychopath and his victim. The heat rushed into Jenda’s cheeks and the swoon she felt was no longer from the nausea. Before she could react, the intruder dropped her hand and put a respectful distance between them.
“I told you that I had a name but maybe a proper introduction will stop your use of that abominable description of me as an intruder inside that pretty head of yours.” Then with a deep bow, he informed her, “My name is Matteo Angelleti and now, my little Baobhan Sith, you know who it is that traps you like an animal.” He spoke the words with a sarcastic lilt and his eyes traveled from the length of chain to Jenda and lingered on her bare legs.
Realizing that she stood facing this gentlemanly vampire wearing only her t-shirt, Jenda’s face flushed and she pulled at the hem of her shirt desperately wishing she had slept in something a little more concealing.
Matteo laughed with real humor at her gesture. “Now now, no need to be bashful. You have been my guest here for almost a week. I have seen much more of you than just your pretty legs.” His leering stare made Jenda squirm. “Don’t worry, tesorina mia. I am too much the gentleman to have taken advantage of you while you slept. In fact, I was quite worried that your fragile mind would not recover.”
“What do you want? Why are you keeping me here?” Jenda demanded answers from the man though her mind was reeling. A week had passed since she had been stolen from her bedroom! Her parents would be terrified and after what happened to Soborgne, they would think the same lunatic had murdered her. How could she have been here a week?
“When you are more properly dressed I will explain everything. That is, if you can keep from harassing my servants. You know it is very difficult to find good humans. I would appreciate it if you didn’t attempt to harm Hailey again.” With those words, Matteo strode out
of the room with such quickness that Jenda did not have time to question him further.
10
Her eyes opened to complete darkness. Her head pounded, and each small intake of breath caused the pressure behind her eyes to send sharp pains ricocheting through her brain. As consciousness slowly seeped in, Soborgne became aware that she was lying on a stone floor. She could feel the cold seeping up and into her body. Attempting to push herself slowly away from the earthy stench and cold beneath her, she felt pain sear up her right arm. Each movement for her was agony. Lying there, trying to ignore the filth of her predicament, Soborgne began to take stock of her injuries the best she could.
As far as she could tell, she had a cut on her forehead, her right arm was broken, and then there were the lacerations. She ran her hands carefully over her body and counted the deep slashes in her skin. One on her cheek, three on her right arm, two on her left arm, one across her chest, one across her stomach, and one on her left thigh. The worst of them had been crudely stitched together, but she could still feel liquid oozing out of them.
Thinking back, she tried to remember what happened. Soborgne remembered walking away from Jenda, giving her the bird as she stood on the stairs to the school. She had run to her car to grab her notes. No matter what Jenda thought, she really did care about passing. How else would she ever escape that hideous prep school and be able to go on to New York? She had made it to her car fine, but she was hauled back by two powerful hands just as she reached in to grab her notebook. She thought it was Jeremy and was about to smack him for being so rough, but when she turned the first blow had hit her.
Everything was fuzzy after that and thinking about it made her headache even worse. She remembered screaming and the attacker slamming her head into her car. She had felt suddenly weightless and at first thought so I’m dead, but then she felt strong arms around her chest. There was a stinging in her neck, and then everything turned black.
Requiem of Humanity Page 7
