by Phil Wohl
Blood Shadow
Book of Ariel
Phil Wohl
Copyright 2011 Phil Wohl
ONE
Abraham Ellison dipped his sword in the pool and the red from the blood floated ominously across the water’s surface. He had been waiting all night for his vampire to arise from his 100th death and take his place among the ranks of the mortals. There was no discussion, no words of parting, or speeches of regret, as Ellison held his former superior’s head and made a powerful cut to his new life - a life of solitude as a normal man living on his own terms.
Thousands of confused vampires and protectors woke up the morning after the final battle of Hartwell and Lowery, wondering where their powers had gone and feeling the aches and pains associated with life as a human being. They instinctively walked back to the Beach Haven Inn and discovered what they already knew: that their reason for being so special was no more. Before scattering around the globe, the defeated army gave Alexander Lowery a proper burial, although a shady spot behind a dumpster in a hotel parking lot would hardly qualify as ‘proper’ in most circles.
Ellison had one more stop to make before he left town, although it was debatable whether he would receive anything less than a indifferent welcoming when he arrived. He knocked on the front door of Hartwell’s house, which was one of the most unfamiliar sounds on what looked like an abandoned warehouse from the outside.
Samuel was up bright and early in a morning when most of the adults deciding to either sleep in or spend some quality-time with their significant others after a few difficult and intense weeks. He opened the front door without asking who was there, which immediately drew a light reprimand from his Great Grandma’ Belinda who had become the unofficial den mother of Casa de Hartwell.
“Samuel, you know you’re not supposed to open the door to strangers without asking who is on the other side of the door first,” she said to the now 6’4” Samuel who had the potential to become the most powerful being on the planet.
“Sorry, Nana Belinda,” Samuel said in his little kid voice, being that he only been in the outside world for a few weeks.
He slammed the door shut right in Ellison’s face and started the exercise over.
“Who is it?” he said in his most formal voice as he looked over at Belinda for approval.
She nodded and smiled like a good teacher providing positive reinforcement for a job well done to her student.
Ellison rolled his eyes on the other side of the door forged from the finest wood and synthetic materials that Thaddeus formulated in his work room just off of the huge garage.
“It’s Abraham Ellison.”
Samuel looked at Belinda in a thought-provoking pose, squinting his eyes, “Where do I know that name from?”
Belinda was happy to fill in the blanks, even if her response was doused with sarcasm.
“Oh, he was the guy that got knocked down a bunch of times and was Lowery’s protector up until about…” she looked at her left wrist, simulating where a watch would be if she needed one, “12:30 am this morning.”
“Oh, that guy!” Samuel happily exclaimed. “Do you think he came over here to get knocked over again?”
Belinda was pleasantly amused, “I don’t know? Why don’t you open the door and let’s see what happens.”
Samuel smiled and then opened the massive, 14-foot door, and Ellison took his first steps inside of the abandoned warehouse.
This place looked a lot different a few weeks ago,” he said, referring to his appearance to let everyone know that the battle would be moved up from two months to two weeks.
The very sound of Ellison saying his name a few moments earlier penetrated the senses of hunter Calvin Brewster like the world’s most effective alarm clock. His eyes bulged open, his nostrils flared, and he kissed his wife Sharon as she rolled over and went back to sleep. Within the next seven seconds he got up, brushed his teeth, took a shower, put on some clothes, and then was flying through the main room with only the thought of a reunion of his right fist and Ellison’s chin on his mind.
The protector had settled an earlier score only about eight hours earlier by taking a Louisville Slugger baseball bat and bashing it upside Cal’s head, knocking him unconscious. Both Samuel and Belinda saw Cal coming, but by the time Samuel’s “Beat down!” could be heard, Cal had already done just that and Ellison was out cold in the doorway.
Hartwell was next in the room and he surveyed the damage, “Looks like fun!”
Cal walked by him and said, “It’s a great way to wake up in the morning. You should try it some time.”
Belinda looked at Samuel, “The least we can do is drag him inside.”
Samuel thought of the most effective way to complete the task, and then he turned into a small Bobcat dump truck and scooped the ex-protector up and dropped him on the couch. He then turned back into his human form and cleaned up any mess that he made.
“You see, that’s what I love about Samuel,” Hartwell said to Belinda. “He could have just grabbed him by his feet, but he has such a brilliant imagination!”
More weary bodies throughout the expansive ranch-style house heard unusual sounds of stirring in the main room, followed by a beeping sound as Samuel the Dump Truck backed up. What was anticipated to be a morning of rest would be interrupted for a few precious moments of clarification.
Thaddeus strolled into the main room, as the sight of Ellison unconscious and propped up on the couch both confused and delighted him.
“What is he doing here?”
“Looks like he was getting knocked out,” Hartwell replied.
Daniel glided into the room, “Again?”
Cal was still angry but was now sipping some coffee. “You got to hand to this guy. He’s been knocked out, what? Five times?”
“Why do you think he’s here?” massive Aaron asked as he joined the discussion.
All of the other people in the room came up with the obvious answer, “Lowery!”
“I don’t think he likes that guy at all,” former FBI Agent Blake Wallace shed some light on the subject as he walked into the room.
“A protector not liking his vampire, how could that happen?” Hartwell’s protector Garrison Phillips asked the collective as he entered the hot space in the house.
“I hear it happens,’ Hartwell replied sarcastically.
Hartwell’s wife Maggie glided in, “Who is that man sleeping on our couch?”
Andrew was exhausted but managed to put on an old hooded sweatshirt and matching sweatpants and did a whirl when he entered the room.
“THREE SLAIMIGOS!” everyone joyfully yelled at the sight of the high school volleyball outfit.
Daniel’s wife Nicole entered the room and stood together with Drew and Daniel in their matching outfits, the combination that made them high school volleyball legends five years earlier.
Daniel asked his cousin, “Where did you find that? I thought you burned it a long time ago?”
“Once a slamigo, always a slamigo,” Drew replied.
Drew’s wife Carla entered the room with their daughter Kayla, “I thought he burned that outfit.”
In reality, Drew did burn the sweatshirt and sweatpants combo from his days on the Beach Haven Volleyball team. But he had seen Daniel wearing his sweats a few days earlier and had Samuel recreate a pair for him, further perpetuating the awareness that the kid could duplicate just about anything.
There was so many good vibes and discussions when Emily Brewster, Joe and Valerie Winters, and Brandon Justice joined the party, that people barely noticed that Abraham Ellison was awakening from his Cal-induced slumber. He rubbed the side of his head as he felt
the kind of lasting pain he hadn’t experienced in more than a century. Ellison was still a little groggy as he groaned and stood up unsteadily, and then tried to focus on the crowd in front of him.
Maggie noticed his unstable condition and offered him a hand to help him walk and get something to drink before another hunter with the last name of Brewster started swinging at him again.
“Would you like some coffee, or maybe some nice green tea,” Maggie said in a soft tone that was music to the former protector’s ears.
Ellison was coming back to his senses as he replied, “The green tea would be divine.”
She guided him toward a tall stool in front of the large, marbled breakfast bar and he rested his weary bones in the comfortable chair.
Cal had his back to the action and then he turned around to check Ellison’s status but he was gone. He looked around and located him at the breakfast bar and made a bee-line toward him, but was headed off by Belinda, who was now in on the action.
“Easy there, Cal! Why don’t we give the guy a minute to get re-oriented and then shed
