I dropped to my knees and began tossing dirty clothes into one pile, others that needed to be hung into another and shoes to be paired to the side. While digging, I grabbed something rectangular and soft half buried in the clutter. I pulled it out and gasped.
The Beast book. Grollic Monstrum.
The worn leather felt comforting against my fingers. I flipped it open to the beginning. The first pages were written in some foreign language so I skimmed them, simply glancing at the drawings. Funny, I thought the first page had said something in English…like a definition or something.
The closet mess forgotten, I crawled onto the bed. About a third of the way through the book, the words turned to English. It talked about a war between Grollics and their worst enemy, and how it all began. It turned into a narration and the beast in the forest seeming like a distant memory now, I settled into the pillows to read.
An aged Grollic tried to help a young woman lost in a forest looking for a cottage. She seemed afraid of the beast but dainty as she may have appeared, the woman had strength inside of her beyond any human ability. She threw the old man aside and attacked the others with him, killing all but him. She claimed she’d spared him as he’d tried to aid her, even though she had no right to save him.
The eye for the eye. The old Grollic planned his revenge. He watched the woman and learned where she travelled. He waited for the day when the white-caped girl returned to the cottage on the other side of the woods. He raced ahead to the clearing and easily killed the unknowing man inside, then waited for the girl.
The girl approached and the moment she entered the house, he attacked. Claws reaching to rip her neck just missed, but as the Grollic stumbled he sank his teeth into something warm. The girl grabbed a chair and smashed it over the Grollics back. They fought through the small cottage, breaking almost everything inside, including themselves.
Near death, the girl barely managed to escape through a narrow window. How she managed to race away in to the forest, the Grollic thought he’d never know the answer. Her now red cape –covered in blood— flapped behind her as if nodding it knew the truth. The Grollic had killed because of what she had done to his family.
The stunned Grollic stared. What he had thought was a cape, had actually been wings. Weak and shattered, he fell back against the wall. The fight between the two had nearly killed them both. He then understood their bloods could not mix. They shared unique powers, but those powers could never be blended. They each had the ability to destroy, as if they’d been born to battle against each other.
Thus began the war as both vowed to never find peace until either race was obliterated. The Grollic may not have understood what he met that day, but he did learn the blood running inside his body could poison hers and vice versa.
Holding the book between my fingers, I sat back, eyes wide. My favorite nursery story as a child was Little Red Riding Hood. Boy had this story changed from the original version.
I turned the page. Both sides of the book had hand written, in point form, notes about the girl and possible ways to kill or stop her. Other questions asked if there was more than one girl and how they came into existence. Simple sketches filled the pages. I couldn’t make heads or tails of those any more than the handwritten stuff.
Bile rose in the back of my throat when I flipped to the next page. The right side displayed a crudely hand drawn Grollic. A disgustingly ugly one. A series of diagrams showed a man turning into the Grollic. Each picture had detailed anatomy and notes along the sides. Interesting, the Grollic’s heart was actually on the right side of its body, higher up than on most animals or humans. In human-form, the heart rested on the left side but as he shifted into Grollic-form, the heart would also shift.
It was the last picture my eyes kept flitting back to - the mammoth size of the beast, the ferocious face with yellow eyes and snarl of sharp teeth. The drawing so life like, it kept bringing me back to that night in the forest.
I shivered, and tried to swallow. An eerie scraping noise against my window nearly had me screaming. I closed my eyes, willing the noise to stop.
It didn’t.
Inhaling a long, slow breath, I then opened my eyes and focused on the window, too scared to get up and look outside. Don’t be such a freakin’ wimp. Squinty, I realized the wind had picked up and a broken branch hung onto another limb. It scraped against the window as the wind blew the still connected limb. A big gust knocked the loose branch down and the ting against the roof of Jim’s car told me it’d landed.
My heart still in my throat, I shook my head in disgust. Wimp. Loser. I chided myself. Get back to reading. Except I now had to put my hand over the monster’s picture to focus on the other side of the book. I stared at the human drawing. A small marking caught my attention, above the right aorta of the heart near the collar bone. It showed a detailed drawing of the tattoo on the corner of the page. I squinted. Somewhere in the back of my mind I recalled seeing it before. Scratching my scalp, I couldn’t place where.
The remainder of the book switched back into the weird foreign writing. I shut it and tossed it onto my nightstand. Enough stupid monsters for one night. The clock radio read 1:30 a.m. Before switching the light off, I glanced at my messy pile on the floor. It would give me something to do, a reason to get out of bed since tomorrow was Saturday.
Weird dreams visited me throughout the night. Grollics and angels killing each other, cutting themselves and letting their blood drip into the enemy’s cuts. Girls in red dresses and capes running through forests, with white monsters in pursuit. Tattoos on everyone to mark if they were Grollic, angel, or human. Angels morphing into beasts scarier than a Grollic.
I woke early with the feeling I never really slept. Covered in sweat, I threw a pillow over my head and tried to fall back asleep. The sun had not yet risen, and I didn’t want to get up with nothing to do but put my shoes and clothes away. After forty minutes, a few tiny little rays of light began peeking through my window.
Throwing on my red-hooded sweatshirt and a clean pair of jeans, I turned to leave. I ran back to the nightstand to grab a ponytail holder and saw the Grollic book. I grabbed it too. If I was going to go see the sunrise, I might as well have something to look through. Less scary in the daylight.
It was cool enough that no fog or mist had come in during the night. I walked to the cemetery-park Michael and I had met, buying a latte at a Starbucks along the way. At the park I sat on a bench, drinking, as I watched the sun make its way over the horizon. Beautiful and peaceful. The world kept turning even when it felt like mine had stopped.
After an hour my bladder told me it’d had enough. I jumped up to throw my empty cup into a garbage on the path when a sudden realization hit me like a punch in the gut. I stumbled back to the bench and sat dumb-founded. The mark!
I’d seen it before on somebody. That day in the courtyard.
Could the beast be human?
Damon.
Damon’s a Grollic.
When he’d threatened me during Halloween, he thought I was the same thing as the Knightlys. Impossible! Michael, Grace or Caleb would know. Right?
I thought back to my encounter with Damon in the school parking lot. I’d worn the necklace. Michael’s Siorghra had blood inside which could kill him. He thought I could kill him. Another thought hit me like a wave of nausea. It was Damon in the woods the night on the beach.
He said there were more of his kind.
Michael and his family must know. But what if they didn’t? What if Damon’s pack was ready to attack Michael’s family? What if they already had? And I’d done nothing.
Running home as fast as I could, I took the stairs two at a time and grabbed the keys to Grace’s car. Jim hollered something at me as I raced out the door. I ignored him. There wasn’t time to argue or explain.
I unlocked, tossed the book on the seat and stuck the keys in the ignition. The car started and revved as if it knew I had to hurry. I shoved the gearshift into drive and flew down
the roads, fingers crossed for no police. They were the least of my worries. Hopefully Caleb wouldn’t kill me and ask questions later.
Or maybe, he would and I’d find out I’m one of them.
The car slowed to a crawl when it came to their driveway. My foot could not press the gas pedal. Maybe this is a mistake. How could a simple human figure out something useful to a family, especially one like Caleb? If they were okay, they probably were planning some counter-attack.
“Stop being such a wimp,” I hissed at my reflection in the review mirror. “Just go up to the house and bang on the door. Hand the book to whoever opens and tell them Damon’s a Grollic. Then leave.” I’d have to walk home but at least I could return the keys and necklace and try to forget them and move on with my life.
I parked beside the mustang and marched towards the house, forcing through the urge to run away. Hand in the air, ready to bang on the door; I realized I’d left the book on the passenger seat. About to turn around to grab it, the door swung open.
Michael.
My body froze, but my heart hammered at record breaking speed. Dressed in a white shirt, his tanned skin looked perfect. I couldn’t stop myself from staring. My thoughts over the past few weeks had left so many details out. The rush of feelings caught off guard.
If he was surprised to see me, he didn’t let on. “Hello, Rouge.”
Stuffing my hands into my jean pockets, I cleared my throat and tried to sound normal. “I know you told me not to come, but there’s something really important I need to tell you.”
“Has something happened?” He stepped onto the porch and glanced behind me, most likely scanning for hidden monsters.
“No…Yes...Maybe.” I blinked a bunch of times, ticked my eyes burned.
“It’s dangerous you’re here.”
His words or posture gave away nothing. I couldn’t read his thoughts. “I know.” I swallowed, my eyes darting inside as I tried to calm the anxiety inside me.
His expression broke. He wavered and looked as lost as me.
I stepped toward him and stumbled, unable to keep my knees from buckling. His arms surrounded me and he held me tight. My head instinctively went to his chest and I left it there, inhaling his wonderful masculine aftershave, the taut muscles under his shirt, his warmth, all of it. Would it be wrong to want to stay here forever? I then remembered the real reason I’d come. Putting my hands on his shoulders, I pushed him back a few inches so I could think. “We really need to talk. Can I come in?”
“Maybe it would be better out here.” He paused and his eyes shifted back and forth at mine.
I shook my head and exhaled a long breath. “I think I’d better come in and you should get Caleb, Sarah and Grace.”
He raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.
I paused, thinking I might need a bullet proof vest and remembered a better devise for protection. “Just need to grab something from the car.”
I ran to get the antique book, letting the fresh air cool my flushed face. It was my only chance to convince Caleb I was worthy of being with Michael. I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and headed into house.
THE END
Of Part I
Seventh Mark Part II
Is available now for purchase here: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00H129F0G
Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00H129F0G
Biography
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-WJ-May-FAN-PAGE/141170442608149 Website: www.wanitamay.yolasite.com Twitter: @wanitajump Email: [email protected] Blog: http://wanitajump.wordpress.com Agent: www.blueridgeagency.com
Before writing, WJ May used to high jump for Canada. She retired in 2003. High jumper ‘eh? Yup, all 5foot 7inches of her. She attended KSU (runner up at NCAAs) and represented Canada at the Francophone Games, World Championships, etc… How High? 1.92m ( or for the metically challenged 6ft 3.5”inches). She thinks it didn’t seem high then but when she looks at the bar there now, she thinks, “That’s crazy!”
So now she writes. She lives. She breathes. She writes Fantasy, YA, New Adult, or whatever float her bats when the need arises. She lives for her family – hubby and three adorable kids. She breathes this blessed world (though slightly polluted) in as much as she can, savouring all its loads of sparkles in the sunshine and not daring to waste a minute.
Book 12 – Tiffany Evans
KEEPER
by
Tiffany Evans
A Hidden Bloodlines novel
Book 1
Copyright 2013 © Tiffany Evans
Tiffanyevans7.blogspot.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Tiffany-Evans Author/135543839847822
Cover design by: Cora Graphics
Edited by: B&R Publishing
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademarked owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Dedications:
This book is dedicated to my sister, Tia. Without her love, continual help, and hours of reading, it would have never reached it’s true potential. Thank you for always believing in me, and for never turning your back on me.
To: My husband, Shaun, who fought for me, protected me, and rescued me. Words can never express how blessed I am to have you, let alone how much I love you.
To: Ashlynn, Tyson, and Ryker, my beautiful children. I love you with all my heart!
****
A special thanks to the most amazing critique partners, Chrissy, Wanita, and Meghan. You girls ROCK!
Chapter 1
“Taylee!”
I’d heard my name a lot lately, and for some odd reason, it was always being yelled.
This time, the deep, angry tone had me scrambling to shove my iPod and sketchbook under my pillow. The sound of stomping boots reverberated up the stairwell. Algebra book. I stumbled over a pile of dirty clothes as I rushed to my desk and grabbed it. Hearing Delmari’s footsteps grow closer, I leapt for the bed.
He threw the door open, not bothering to knock—obviously not worried I might have been naked—and stood, hands on his hips, glaring down at me. Crap.
My gaze traveled up his looming frame. I faked an innocent smile, trying to pretend I didn’t know the reason he looked ready to rip me a new one.
“Your football team lose again? Time you picked a new one to bet on, don’tcha think?”
Jaw clenched, his eyes bored into mine like he attempted to exorcise demons from my soul. Or beat them out of me.
“Not football, huh?” I didn’t scare easily like the majority of Dreas. Then again, no sane person would mess with a Kember…especially when that Kember was Delmari. He pretty much walked the earth as a badass, savior and god. Trained to protect, he could destroy anyone in his path.
“What were you thinking?” He half-turned, running a hand over his buzzed, blond hair, before looking back at me.
“Well…” I averted my gaze to the orange accent wall behind him, wondering how long I could get away with playing stupid. “Depends on what time of day you’re referring to. Mainly, school, though. You know, gotta get those grades up so I can grad—”
“Veronica Watson. History class.” His eyes narrowed. “Ring any bells? Or do I really need to remind you she stood in the middle of a test and told everyone her hands-on sex ed class would be moved from the backseat of her car to the city park.”
I rubbed my nose, hid
ing the smile behind my hand. Her outburst in third hour was the highlight of my day. Only something a Drea, like me, could pull off. “You heard about that, huh? Please don’t tell me you signed up.”
The hard set of his mouth hid all signs of the laugh lines that usually creased around his eyes. Okay, not the time for jokes.
“It’s a small town. Now would you mind explaining why she said it?”
“Because it’s true?”
“Taylee! I know you don’t get along with her, but really, you had to make her humiliate herself in front of the whole class?”
“You haven’t heard my side of the story.”
“I’ve told you a thousand—no—a million times not to use your ability, and I swear I’ll…” He paused.
Pop a blood vessel? Take my car and cell phone away? Ground me? I could’ve gone on all day.
“I’ll pull your butt out of school if it happens again.”
My snarky attitude dried up. “It’s not my fault. She’s the one who got all butt-hurt when her boyfriend couldn’t keep his eyes to himself. Then she started telling everyone I’d do some risqué things for a little cash. Like you said, Del, it’s a small town.”
He sat next to me, letting out a huge sigh. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he looked a little spiteful. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve handled it.”
I knew he would have. He never slacked on his job to protect me. I just didn’t need my “daddy figure” fighting my battles at school, too. Leaning my head against his shoulder, I snickered. “How, by making it rain on her?” Along with strength and agility, all Kembers had either an elemental ability or some other physical gift like super speed. We Dreas got gypped. We weren’t fast or strong. All we could do was use our mental abilities to work within people’s minds.
Delmari chuckled and pulled my ponytail. “Don’t underestimate the gift of water, and I wasn’t talking about using abilities. You should’ve handled it differently.”
Darlings of Paranormal Romance (Anthology) Page 137
