The man stalks toward her, a dangerous determination etched onto his scarred face. She rolls out of the way, kicking his leg out from underneath him. He hits the ground hard, the metal object in his hand bouncing free. It skids across the floor as Mama jumps on top of him. She punches him in the face, the glowing shapes on her band of rings flaring with every hit. His healing burnt flesh breaks open, fresh blood spilling free. Mama goes to punch him again just as his fist slams hard into her side. She cries out, her body bending with the pressure. He shoves her to the side where they both struggle for control of the metallic object on the floor, the flames around them getting closer and closer.
“Mama! Mama!” I stop struggling in Uncle Caleb’s arms long enough to gaze at him over my shoulder. “Uncle Caleb, please, you have to help Mama.”
Tears stream down his face. He shakes his head side to side, his hold around my waist never wavering as he falls to his knees, taking me with him. “I can’t. The doorway only goes one way. I can’t get to her. She has to come to us.”
A part of the roof falls to the floor, barely missing Mama and the man. Mama grabs the metal object then stabs it into the man’s shoulder, pinning him to the floor. On hands and knees she crawls toward the shimmery doorway. She reaches out and I reach back. The man grabs her ankle and pulls her toward him. Her nails dig into the hardwood, leaving marks behind. Twisting around, she rears a leg back then kicks him square in the face. Blood gushes from his nose, giving her a few precious seconds to crawl forward again. Clawing at the floor, she trips over her own hands and feet as she tries to stand and run.
More of the roof crashes to the floor in a heap of flames. Mama covers her head with her arms as a large beam detaches above her. It hits her back, pinning her down beneath it. She struggles to get free, her face contorting with effort and pain, but nothing she does seems to work. Giving up, she looks up at Uncle Caleb and me. “Keep her safe, Caleb. Promise me you’ll keep her safe,” she mouths. Her big brown eyes find mine, the fear in them shifting to acceptance, and then to an overwhelming amount of love. “Be safe my sweet girl.” She slips off the band of metal rings on her fingers and slides them across the floor toward the shimmery doorway. It comes to a rest at my knees. I pick them up, hugging them close to my chest. She shouts something I can’t make out or hear as the man makes his way toward Uncle Caleb and me.
Mama smiles at me one last time, then slams her palm down on the floor, her lips moving without sound. A streak of blue rushes out from beneath her fingers toward the doorway like a bolt of lightning striking down from the sky. The passageway explodes in a burst of bright blue light in front of my eyes; the pieces falling away in a shower of sparks.
Tears run down my face, my chest heaving as I scream and scream for Mama, but she’s gone.
She’s gone, and it’s my fault.
2
Eleven Years Later
I wake up screaming; the sheets stuck to my body like monstrous hands trying to hold me down. I struggle and thrash, imagining the burnt man has finally gotten hold of me and is dragging me down to hell, as flames lick over my bedroom walls. Smoke fills the air, choking me with every breath I attempt to take.
Someone shouts my name and I see a small figure running through the haze of smoke toward me. Her body crashes into mine, words tumbling out of her mouth in rapid succession. Pinning me down, she blows some kind of powdery substance in my face, temporarily blinding me and making it even harder to breathe. I try to knock her off, but my arms have become so heavy. In fact, my whole body has, and I can’t seem to keep my eyes open, no matter how much I try to.
“Who…? What…?” All my thoughts swirl together into an incoherent mess within my head.
“Sleep now Indiana, and when you wake up everything will be fine,” the girl sitting on top of my stomach tells me. She heaves herself off, then pulls the blankets up over my shoulders.
I roll onto my side, her face swimming in and out of focus. “Okay,” is all I can slur out before my eyelids become too heavy to keep open a second longer.
The sharp shrill of an alarm going off has me bolting upright. Reminiscent thoughts of a terrifying nightmare claw at the back of my mind just out of reach of being remembered consciously. My body remembers, though, judging by the hammering beats of my heart pounding in my chest. That and the fact my hands are wrapped so tightly around my sheets they physically hurt. Taking several deep breaths, I release the death grip on my bed covers as I look around at the familiar things in my room to reassure myself I’m okay. Whatever my nightmare was about it’s over now.
“It wasn’t real and it can’t hurt me,” I say aloud, ignoring the small whispering voice in the back of my head, trying to tell me otherwise.
My bedroom door flies open, giving me a mini heart attack. I slam my hand against my chest, the beats of my heart erratic beneath my palm. “Geez Liv. Ever heard of knocking?”
“Have you ever heard of turning off your alarm?” Striding across the room, she jabs her finger down on the snooze button lit up on the screen of my iPhone. “It’s been going off for like ever.”
“You do know you hit the snooze button right, and it’s just going to go off again in another nine minutes?” I can’t help but smile a little at the flustered look playing over her face. Liv is not a morning person and hates being woken up even if it’s for a good reason—like getting ready for school.
“Yeah, well, I meant to hit stop.” She rakes a hand through her gorgeous red curls before plopping down on my bed. I swear the girl never gets bedhead. She could probably stand in the middle of a tornado and still look picture perfect. Me, on the other hand, let’s just say my appearance upon waking scares the dog daily.
She reaches over, grabbing my phone from the bedside table. She taps her thumbs over the screen then tosses the phone at me. “Now it’s off and I can get at least twenty more minutes of sleep before I’m forced to drag myself to that horrible place referred to as school.” She climbs over my lower half, splaying her body out over the bed beside me. “You’ll wake me up won’t you when you get out of the shower?”
“What’s wrong with your bed?” I half tease.
“Nothing. But yours is conveniently right here, saving me a trip back down the hall. Besides, your bed is so much more comfortable than mine.” She snuggles in with a blissful smile.
“I’ll give you that one. My bed is definitely way more comfy than yours.” Hers is several years past its prime with evil springs that like to jab you in the ribs no matter where it is you lay. I sprawl out beside her, tempted to go back to sleep myself. I fluff up the pillow under my head, getting a faint whiff of smoke. I take a deeper sniff, conjuring up an image of my room on fire. Vague tingling’s of my nightmare dance across my mind and I stiffen, my heart speeding up. Impossible. It was just a dream. I’m obviously mistaken. I smash my face into the pillow; inhaling as deep as I can to prove to myself it’s all in my head.
Liv kicks me in the leg and I let out a startled yelp. “Dude, can you stop shaking the bed? I’m trying to get some sleep here.”
“Does this smell like smoke to you?” I shove my pillow into her face.
She pulls it from my hands, irritation and something else—fear, maybe—held within her green eyes. She brings it to her nose, the bottom half of her face covered, and I can almost swear she’s mumbling something against it. “Nope. Smells like laundry detergent to me.” Tossing it into my lap, she climbs over my legs and off the bed.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to my room. I’m obviously not going to sneak in a few extra minutes of sleep in here.” At the doorway she pauses at the threshold. “By the way, Happy B—”
“Don’t say it,” I interrupt. “You know how much I hate this day and what it reminds me of.”
“I know. I just don’t think your mom would want you to keep treating your birthday like a black cloud of doom. It’s been eleven years, Indi. She’d want you to celebrate. You only turn seventeen once, you know
? You deserve to have some cake and some fun.”
“I don’t deserve anything. If it weren’t for her running back into a burning house to save me, she’d still be alive. It’s my fault she died,” I mumble under my breath.
“What did you say?”
“I said maybe next year.”
“You always say that. What happened to your mom wasn’t your fault, Indi. You should stop blaming yourself.” I catch a glimpse of pity in her eyes before she turns away to head back down the hall. I don’t deserve her pity. I don’t deserve anybody’s pity.
I stare at the pillow in my hands, teetering on the verge of my own pity party, which I don’t deserve either. Bringing it up to my face, I take another whiff. It smells like laundry detergent just like Liv said. I throw it onto the other side of the bed, convinced now the smoke smell was all in my head. Just my subconscious way of reminding me of the fire that spared my life, but took my mother’s eleven years ago today.
I toss the covers off and head for my closet. The faster I can get this day over with, the better.
“Hey cuz, catch.”
I turn just in time to catch a flying package heading my way. Jack smirks at me from the doorway. Tiny beads of water drip from the ends of his dark brown hair onto his shirt. Being an early riser, Jack is usually the first one in and out of the shower. He also likes to use all the hot water, which means it will probably be another cold shower for me this morning. Yay.
He claps his hands then shakes his pointer finger at me. “Nice catch. But one of these times, you’re bound to miss.”
“I wouldn’t hold my breath. I’ve got the reflexes of a cat.” I smile until I see the birthday wrapping paper. “I told you no gifts.”
“I couldn’t help it. I had to get it and it was time sensitive. It’s not my fault the date just so happens to coincide with your birth—” At my steely glare he amends his choice of words. “With a certain day that shall not be named. Just open it. You’re going to love it.” He heads back out into the hall then pokes his head back in. “Oh and don’t be late for breakfast. Mom’s making banana pancakes, your favorite. Nice hair, by the way. I love how it sticks up all crazy like on one side of your head.” He shoots me a wink then disappears down the hallway.
“Ugh.” I comb my fingers through my hair, getting them stuck at the halfway point. “What are you looking at?” I say to Coco, the family Pomeranian who replies with a weird half growl, half whiny bark before darting after Jack. I sit the gift down on top of my dresser as I try to get my fingers unstuck. Why couldn’t I have been born with perfect hair like Liv, instead of a monstrous curly mess that tangles into a giant rat’s nest every time I go to sleep?
Fifteen minutes later, I bound down the stairs freshly showered and ready to go—in record time I might add; cold showers are no fun—with my belly growling in anticipation of breakfast. Aunt Claudia makes the best banana pancakes in the world.
Whispered voices mentioning my name float out into the hall from the kitchen. I slow to a stop just outside the doorway. Normally I don’t eavesdrop, but when it’s about me, color me curious.
“It was close this time Mom,” I hear Liv say.
“Maybe it’s time we tell her the truth,” Jack adds.
Tell me the truth about what?
“Yeah, before she—”
“Good morning birthday girl.” Uncle Caleb drops a hand down onto my shoulder, keeping me from jumping straight up into the air. All whispering from the kitchen ceases, replaced instead with Liv’s announcement she has a hot date with Chuck Bryant Friday night and would like to extend her curfew from midnight to one a.m. “Hope you’re hungry this morning, Indiana. Claudia’s outdone herself with the pancakes today.” His hand slides across my back to my other shoulder as he ushers me into the kitchen.
“Yeah, super hungry.” My words come out a little breathless, but that’s what happens when you’ve just seen your life flash before your eyes. Uncle Caleb smiles at me with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, enjoying the fact he caught me eavesdropping and is the sole reason my heart is still racing at a hundred miles an hour. He’s a little devious like that. He’s always jumping out from behind something to scare Jack, Liv, and me.
Aunt Claudia pulls out a chair at the table, motioning for me to sit. Next she places a plate of banana pancakes smothered in syrup and topped with Cool Whip down in front of me. She sits down then jumps back up. “Oops, I almost forgot the tea.”
Aunt Claudia makes me a cup of herbal tea every morning. She’s been doing it since I moved in with them eleven years ago. I’m not complaining though. It’s fantastic tea and it’s become kind of like a security blanket. I even take it with me if I spend the night over at Taylor or Paige’s house, my two best friends.
“Thanks, Aunt Claudia,” I say as I take a small sip, and then a bigger one. She always makes it just right, not too hot and not too cold. “Mmm, it’s a little stronger today. I like it.”
She shares a look and a small nod with Liv and Jack before flashing me a million watt smile. “You’re welcome, sweetie.”
She’s acting weird and I start to wonder about the snippet of conversation I overheard her, Jack, and Liv whispering earlier before Uncle Caleb scared me into a near death experience. What truth do they need to tell me? And what was close? God, I hope they’re not planning another surprise birthday party. The last one they attempted when I turned ten was an absolute disaster. Since then they’ve been pretty good about leaving me be, aside from the occasional ‘Happy Birthday’ that gets them the evil eye.
I turn my eyes upwards, silently praying to the powers that be. Please say they haven’t all lost their minds and are going to try again this year.
Liv slams her empty glass of orange juice down on the table. “Well, I’m off to shower and get ready for school.” She doesn’t get up, though, and I know it’s because she’s forming a plan to skip school by the devious look in her eye. Plus, she does this at least once a week. She brings her fist up to her mouth then fake coughs as she looks at her mom with equally fake sick eyes. “Although, I seem to have developed this nasty cough and should therefore stay home today.” For dramatic effect she fake coughs a few more times.
Aunt Claudia rolls her eyes with a headshake and a half smirk. “I think you’ll survive, Olivia. Now go get ready.”
“If I must.” Liv shuffles her feet over to the doorway. “But don’t complain when the whole school becomes sick because of my cough and they have to shut the place down.” She winks at me then skips out into the hallway.
Twenty minutes later, I slide into the backseat of Jack’s twilight blue 1994 Ford Tempo. He bought it from an old man two streets over who’d had it parked in his garage for the past decade, shortly after he got his license last year. It’s not the most attractive car with its rust spots and primer paint touchups, but it gets us where we need to go. Also, it’s the only thing he could afford with the money he’d been saving up from cutting grass over the past two summers. Uncle Caleb and Aunt Claudia offered to help him get a more current car, but he insisted on doing everything himself. He’s pretty independent like that. Liv, on the other hand, will definitely take her parents up on purchasing her first car when she turns sixteen in six months. As for me, I’ve already failed the driver’s test three times so…
“You forgot to open this.” Jack tosses the gift I left on my dresser over the driver’s seat and into my lap as I’m closing the car door.
Liv slides into the front passenger seat. “You got her another gift again this year?” She eyeballs her brother like he’s dumb for wasting his time and money, which he is because I have no intention of opening it. I never open them and he knows this. Why he keeps getting me something every year is beyond me. I don’t do gifts and this year won’t be any different. He’ll just have to take it back like I make him do every year.
“Yep.” He adjusts the rearview mirror so our eyes meet. “And she’s going to open it this year. It’s non-refundable and I won’t
take no for an answer.”
I hold it out for him to take back. When he doesn’t, I fling it up onto the dashboard. “You know the rules, Jack. No gifts. No exceptions.”
He throws it back at me. “Your rules suck. And if you don’t already know, rules are meant to be broken. Now open it or I swear we will sit here in the driveway listening to country music as loud as possible until you do. Since I know how much you love it.” He says the last part with a heavy dose of sarcasm because he knows how much I loathe country music. I’d rather rip my eardrums out than have to listen to it.
“I’ve got a test worth half my grade today Jack, and we’re already running late because somebody took forever in the shower.” I give Liv a pointed stare to which she replies with a shrug. I switch my gaze back to Jack. “Can we not do this this year?”
He turns on the car radio then switches the station over to country, giving me my answer. Staring at me with challenging hazel eyes and a smirk, he slowly turns the volume up. I do my best to ignore it… until I can’t take it anymore. “Ugh, fine. Then I’ll walk.” I pull on the door handle only to find the door won’t open.
“You got to love old cars with questionable power locks.” Jack grins from ear to ear and it’s all I can do to not smack the stupid grin off his face.
Liv taps his arm approvingly with the back of her hand. “Good one.”
“Okay, fine. Turn off the music and I’ll open it. Are you happy now?”
Of Blood & Magic: Blood Descent Book 1 Page 2
