Roseblood

by Emily Shore

  Winded from Heath’s action, I clutched my stomach to catch my breath before glimpsing Heath’s glare.

  “Oh, come on.” I gasped a few breaths before steadying. “You can’t be that sore.”

  Heath tilted his head back, scanning the sky before turning his infuriated eyes back to me. “First, the Chateau. Now, this.”

  I put my head between my knees, trying not think of the wolf’s open jaws, canine incisors ready to shred my flesh. Brushes with death were common place since I was a child, but it still took a few moments for me to process and let go. To stem any potential panic attacks, I practiced the breathing exercises that Dad had drilled into me for years and tapped my fingers against my side ten times. Today, I closed my eyes, retreated to my mind castle for a few moments to control my breathing.

  Heath sighed and handed me his handkerchief. I recognized the calming scent of lavender oil. “Thank you.” I loved that my older brother carried a handkerchief.

  He nodded, then raised his chin to the windows, creasing his eyes. “You’re safe. Brian’s got it handled. Last night, he shared with me how he’d heard a rumor that some wolves would try and dominate him today. I tapped into his wavelength hours ago just in case. He was ready for it. You didn’t need to interfere.”

  I raised myself up, stationing my hands on my hips. “Excuse me for being a good sister.”

  “Pain in the neck sister,” Heath mocked, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “You know you If you’d taken me to the training grounds before…” I trailed off.

  Heath shrugged, then removed his fedora to smooth a hand through his curls before stuffing his hands into his black jacket. “A hoard of hormonal children rolling around in the dirt. There are far better methods of resolving current affairs.”

  “Spoken like a true telepath.” I reached up to pinch his cheek. “And diplomat.” His simper was quite adorable.

  Heath narrowed his gaze on me, a code gesture for “I’m reading you”.

  “Your intentions were naive, but your application was exceptional. You waited for the halfway mark for partner shifts and just after the Alphas arrived with their packs.”

  I opened my hands, proud palms exhibited. “All that blood and adrenaline pumping. But I brought the odorizer and pepper spray.”

  “Just glad you’re safe.”

  “Are you going to tell Dad?”

  Heath rubbed a hand down his face, then escorted me back toward the double entrance doors. “Not this time. But you owe me.”

  “You owe me for your whole life.” Heath balked and I nudged his side, beaming up at him. “You know you’d be so bored without me.”

  “Let’s just get you home.”

  While Heath excused himself for a few minutes, to retrieve the car I assumed, I had a few moments of quiet. Enough for Skip to sneak up on me and murmur in my ear, “I saw you earlier. Or rather, I smelled you.”

  “Shouldn’t you still be training?” I spun around to face him.

  “I’m giving the earth-shakers a break.” He explained, hugging his arms so his subtle muscles swelled just a little, but his shadow annihilated me more than his impressive frame did.

  “And how could you smell me? You were on the other side of the field.”

  Skip leaned against the brick wall to elaborate, “Vampires from prestigious bloodlines such as ours have a more potent awareness of certain blood types.”

  “B Positive?” I shrugged at my all too common blood type.

  “Surely your parents have tested your blood!”

  “When I was younger.”

  “Ahh,” Skip eyed me with a knowing smirk. “So, they haven’t shared with you. It’s much too intense to ignore.”

  “What?” I gripped my tote bag as if it was a touchstone as he leaned in.

  “Your blood is waking up, Reina Caraway.” He rose, straightening so his shadow snuffed out my form. “Make that bloods. And I am quite eager to learn all about it.”

  Turned out that Heath had someone else arranged to take me home, which is why it had taken him longer. My brother needed to hunt.

  On the drive back to my house, Raoul deferred to me to begin discussions. Typical. One question toyed with my tongue. “Raoul…did the Council or the Queen question you yet?”

  “Me?” He narrowed his brows and parked the car. “Whatever for?”

  I should’ve guessed it hadn’t happened quite so soon. Caroline had only spoken to me this morning. I could shrug off the question, but I knew Raoul wouldn’t give up. Since my elevated heartbeat would betray any lie, I followed with, “There’s some suspicion that the murderer could be a Guardian, and Caroline has some doubts since you’ve appeared in the exact same location as the murders.”

  “So have you,” Raoul pointed out and leaned back in his seat.

  I rolled my eyes and arched my neck to press my head against the headrest. “You’re joking, right?”

  “Yes, Reina, I’m joking. Unless you’ve suddenly found yourself craving blood and growing claws or fangs.”

  “If I do, you’ll be the first to know.” After my family of course.

  Dad was the only one home, and he regarded us as Raoul opened my car door, and the two of us walked up the front porch.

  “Raoul…” My father nodded to the other vampire, but he scrutinized me for an explanation. “Heath called me ahead of time. Thank you for bringing her home. I assure you we will speak to each other soon.”

  “I look forward to it, sir.” Raoul smiled and touched my arm before stepping into vampire speed and disappearing far past our family’s driveway—no doubt venturing home for the day.

  “I don’t know who’s more anxious for your talk with him: you or me.”

  “Oh? Something I should know?” My father centered his gaze on me.

  “Raoul is…different.”

  Dad relaxed against the other railing across from me while indulging me. “Define different. Please. For my curiosity.”

  “Raoul is a good friend of the family. And very controlled. I respect him for that and his beliefs. I don’t know much about his past, but I know whatever happened to him shaped his choice to come here. I don’t know why he’s stuck around Le Couvènte all these years, but he’s always been close with our family and especially with Heath.”

  Now, things started to get a little uncomfortable. My father didn’t interrupt me but waited for me to gather my words. His patience to allow me to process made it much easier to remain open with him versus my mother. So, I decided to express my feelings.

  “Raoul is very attractive. I mean…” I shook my head and put the words in a clearer arrangement. “I’m very attracted to him. I think it’d be very simple to love him.”

  “Hmm…” My father tucked his hands in his pockets and posed another question, “Are you afraid of him?”

  “No. It just seems more like an ethics issue.”

  “Allow me to present a scenario. This is not my attempt to sway you one way or another but to help you analyze because regardless of how normal your feelings are, they could escalate. And it will be better for you to make some solid choices. Ones that could act as a barrier for heartache. Now, what if all the prophecy theories are wrong? What if you become neither race but remain human?”

  Instead of standing, I curled myself into a ball on the front porch and gazed at the trees outside our home. At the contrast of the impetuous saplings compared to the ancient Redwoods, so patient and established. With the wind cooing around the branches, I could almost hear the Redwoods’ deep voice murmuring advice to the thirsty seedlings. The young trees bent from a rush of wind as if bowing to the giants. The Redwoods had endured everything from plagues and storms, avalanches and floods. They would always remain, but the saplings were so breakable. One rushing gale could snap their soft roots. I was a sapling, but everyone else in my family had Redwood roots. Living in Le Couvènte, there were always threats. Just like today. For now, I had Redwoods to protect me, but sooner or later, I nee
ded to grow on my own.

  I shared my thoughts with my father, who reflected before answering. “Your mother and I never dreamed our alliance could produce someone so special. Our main reason for marrying was to bring peace to Le Couvènte during a warring era. Not to mention how bewitching your mother was and is. Up till that point, no such union was ever attempted. Nor could anyone have predicted we’d pass a shared human genome to you. Our whole family was suddenly faced with a difficult task, particularly Heath and I. But you are our daughter. You belong with us. That will never change.”

  “I just wish I knew what will happen. What I’ll become.”

  My father chuckled. “Yes, you do have much riding on your shoulders. But even if you are a different race, you still came from us. And Redwoods have a secret: their roots aren’t deep. Redwood root systems all join together and intertwine with one another. That is how they stand strong. And become the tallest trees in the world. Your roots are ours. And whoever you choose will join with those roots also.”

  Right. No pressure at all.

  Chapter Ten

  First Encounter

  I was getting tired of waking up in unfamiliar places.

  Except this wasn’t so unfamiliar. Above me, the moon was only a half slit. Like a silver eye just creeping open. But the moving charcoal painting of pale, rolling clouds were enough to see the training fields. And the hunter robed in black on the other side of the field.

  The first time was a mistake. Chalk it up to Raoul’s interruption. I was his next victim. This predator wouldn’t let me escape again. This…Rose Killer.

  I inhaled and exhaled four times. Adrenaline became the fuel and fire my blood desired. Ignited when the vampire stepped forward, tilting his head as if studying me. Between the night and distance, I couldn’t make out his face. My instincts yearned for a flight response, but I’d spent a lifetime denying those instincts. My brain’s fight or flight was tampered. Suspended midway between in freeze mode.

  And yet, my heart screamed fight.

  My human flesh bemoaned the impossible notion.

  And my blood…caught fire and burned both paths. In that moment, I sensed something inside me roar. Throwing back my head, neck arched, I screamed as my shoulders caved. The pain shopped my scream short. I felt the shifting of bones. Of shoulder blades. Somehow, I knew they were elongating. They were as much a part of me as the rest of my skeleton. But those bones grew and fused together into a work of art. A skeletal and sinew masterpiece that was unearthly and yet familial. Of power and potency, of a blood and bond predating a millennium of pure generations. Wings! I could feel the muscle and bones extend, climbing toward the heavens, edges longing to scrape the stars and membrane thirsting for the wind.

  Unhindered and unashamed, I screamed. It felt like a part of me was giving birth. Not reborn. It was too strange, too foreign. I would always remember this birth. The birth of my wings. White enough to match a Chantilly lace-clothed moon.

  Now, I faced the predator with a defense mechanism. Up till now, the hunter had been observing my change. Now, he crouched low. For the first time, I had the option of flight.

  And I chose it.

  Beating my wings up and down, imagining a bat in flight, I fled the ground. Remembering the times I’d seen Heath in flight, remembering every vampire biology course that showed the anatomy in virtual simulation, I pointed my toes, pressing my legging-clad legs together, my nightdress making love with the wind as my wings propelled me forward. Only then did I glance back, sensing a presence. The vampire still hunted me.

  I beat my wings faster. But now, I was encroaching fast upon the tree-line. I needed my every reflex to make it through this. As soon as I crashed into the forest’s embrace, branches turned to savage talons, clawing at my body, slashing at my skin. Drawing blood. I could smell it. No doubt, the vampire could, too. And he was closing in.

  Dodging a great redwood, I huffed and gasped. All I wanted was to close my eyes, to pause for one breath. But the great-bodied trees rushing faster than rapids sharpened my reflexes. Too close, the hunter, equipped with the time, experience, and hunting instincts, prevented me from weeding out a hiding spot.

  My blood quickened. Stoked by too much adrenaline. Driven not by fear, beyond survival, I wanted to live, so I willed the same fire to rise within me again. Instead of my shoulder blades, I felt it surging in my hands. Fingertips warming, I tried to focus on the trees speeding before my vision, but my hands quaked. Heat grew. Uncontrollable.

  Unleashed!

  Rocketing from my fingertips, the fire seized the tree before me in a blazing inferno. The power rocked me back as more roared from my hands. I spun toward my assailant―a shadowy figure advancing―and pressed my eyes tight as another fireball shot from my hands. A stampede of flames scorching the swarm of trees and brush surrounding me. Nothing but smoke and flames. No way I could make out whether my flames had met their mark.

  I couldn’t stop.

  Sensing no one behind me, I twisted only to meet more wildfire. All around me. My body grew warm. Smoke clotted my nostrils, invaded my throat, venturing lower. It aimed for my lungs. Too weak, I fell, crashing to the ground but not so high above the earth to break my bones. But I could feel my flesh bruising. I coughed more. Beneath the current of inferno, I felt more relief but knew it was short-lived. Fire raged all around me. The fire from my hands. From my blood. From the untapped channels deep inside me.

  But I was still flesh and blood. No vampire skin to protect me from the hot ash particles ready to inject themselves into my nose and lungs. Heat rises. Even if I were to fly now, there was no guarantee I could make it. My wings. My wings. My wings. My only protection.

  As the fire grew closer, as the heat intensified, I curled my great wings around my body, disheartened that I only had but a few minutes to feel them. More disheartened at the thought of my family’s reaction to discovering their daughter, the child of prophecy, the foretold Queen, daughter of vampires and werewolves a victim of her own humanity thanks to her budding supernatural abilities.

  Fingertips of fire traced the edges of my wings. I cried out from the pain as the flames mutilated the membrane. The loss didn’t have to work its way into me. The physical pain was infinitesimal compared to the grief I felt stabbing my heart. Now, I understood Skip’s reaction the other night at the Chateau. How personal, how emotional. It was like losing a limb. But the one limb that granted you a freedom and glory beyond compare.

  I was losing the most beautiful part of me.

  Now, I screamed.

  Chapter Eleven

  Deal

  Strong arms, cold and undead marble pillars around my frame, hauled me out of the blaze. Lifelines I gripped onto. Even if I could still feel the edges of my wings, tattered, aching, my heart’s mourning began to ebb. Still, I wanted to pass out, but my mind forbid it. Too curious as to the identity of the vampire holding me, carrying me to safety. Vampire speed. Something I apparently lacked.

  Yanking my head up, I tried to make out the face, suddenly panicked that it was the vampire hunter. He’d found me. Horrified, I clawed at the arms until they tightened around my frame and he spoke, “Rin, you’re safe with me.” I knew the voice. Desperate to believe it, I froze and gazed up at him. That’s when I could make out his silver gold hair iridescent as mother of pearl whipping behind him, could make out his eyes like moss on fire. He stopped at the edge of the tree line just bordering the training fields.

  “Catch your breath, Reina Caraway!” he shouted above the crackling flames that licked the trees close to us, prepared to take the fields and devour all of Le Couvènte High.

  I inhaled, crashing to my knees, threadbare wings skirting the grass below me just as Skip raised his hands, exhaled and tempted the fire to fade. His persuasion so powerful convinced the flames, flames wrought by my hands to decline and decrease until all that remained were charred forest and tendrils of ash flirting with the air. Smoke and bits of violated redwoods.

&nbs
p; “Rin.”

  I registered Skip’s voice, but all I could feel was the pain in my muscles, the sensation of skin lost, burned, flesh singed. This was beyond pain. I’d had brushes with death before. Nothing like this. And no matter how many times it had happened, each time the Grim Reaper haunted me, it was always different. Curling into the fetal position, I forsook every breathing exercise, every coping strategy to ward off the panic attacks. I sank the side of my face into the cold grass, scratched at my knees, and screamed.

  Skip’s hand cupped my shoulder, an icy anchor. I tried to focus on it, on the feeling of my nightdress that had somehow held itself together despite the shoulder sleeves torn to a thin line. Dangling on my frame.

  “Rin…” Skip whispered this time in my ear even as I sobbed, agony racking my back, my shoulders, my wings. “Do you trust me?”

  He’d just saved my life.

  I mustered a weak nod, wanting nothing more than to fall over and bury my face in the ground.

  “Good because this will hurt.”

  Without another word, Skip touched my wings. Hands closing around each side. But I felt the strength invested within them. Injecting his persuasion into the very core of my wings, Skip wove his power into the bones, the sinew, the membrane, the skin, the heart of my wings. Beneath the surface, it was electrifying―undercurrents of lightning weaving the fabric of my wings back together. Part of me desired the inferno compared to this. He hadn’t lied. But at the end, at the end of it all, a warm breeze stirred my wings. At first, I shuddered. But Skip urged me to stand. And I could. I could rise. I turned around and beat my wings,, causing me to stumble from the inertia, but I managed to catch my balance. I marveled at the lack of pain. Whole again. Repaired. Restored. Nothing left but the leftover aroma of smoke. Not even singe marks.

  And I wept from the action, the gesture, everything Skip had done for me. Tears welled up in my eyes.