Beasthood (The Hidden Blood Series)

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Beasthood (The Hidden Blood Series) Page 4

by A. Z. Green


  ‘They’ were the group of people he wished never to meet and had feared the moment they would show up. He’d hoped that day would never come, but her aunt smashed that to pieces the moment he realized who she was. She’d been following Jasmine around like flies to shit ever since. And she hadn’t believed the doctor either.

  It took all his will not to look at her aunt with the burning venom simmering just underneath the surface of his very thin mask. Instead he kept it in place, continuing to smile at his daughter who he feared he’d never see again.

  He was more convincing than his wife whose smile was sunken at the sides. A weak, pained smile Jasmine was quick to notice.

  She had always had a sharp eye for unravelling the hidden emotions just beneath the surface by studying people’s faces carefully. It was trying to figure out why they were there in the first place that was the hard part.

  She thought it was all down to her distress of not being with her daughter. Her mother hadn’t made any sign that she'd wanted to join them, even though it was impossible with her busy schedule. Jaz didn’t blame her for that but it still upset her that she’d never done anything like this with her mother. A spa day was a mother-daughter thing to do. Not that she was ungrateful to her aunt. The sadness behind her mother’s eyes upset her. She flashed her mum a genuine smile; all traces of bitter resentment vanished, disintegrated.

  The smile was only visible to her parents for a few seconds before the car pulled away. She looked back at them and gave a small wave as she watched them standing on the road. They didn’t wave back. She found that odd. The truth was they couldn’t bring themselves to wave back. It made it seem like they were happily accepting the fact she was going.

  Jaz felt a pang of guilt for all the times she’d been cold or difficult towards them, especially today.

  I’ll make it up to them, she thought resolutely. Though she didn’t know how long it would take before she could finally forgive them. She promised herself she’d try at least.

  *

  For the first half hour, Jaz remained silent.

  Her thoughts shifted back and forth through time but mostly the monotonous drone of the motorway kept her in a quiet, semi-comatose state.

  Occasionally her aunt – who was sitting next to her in the back- leaned forward to the seat in front, to mumble inaudible chops of conversations to her husband. Uncle Bo would intermittently respond in his soft, alto voice. It was almost the same tone as the engine so instead of trying to understand what they were saying, she ignored them, preferring to look at the blurred objects flying past the window.

  Green, grey, yellow, blue and white all mixed in together like a watercolour, flashed across her eyes as she stared out through the glass. She leant the side of her head against the window, allowing the vibrations buzzing through her skull to send her off into a daydream.

  She thought back to a happier time three years ago when she and her parents had travelled to Brighton for a long weekend. They had sat down on the beach for a picnic on the first day.

  The sun had been out, bursting through the thin cover of clouds, roasting her ivory skin. At the end of the day her face had glowed lobster red. Her cheeks had suffered the worst of it and had peeled, leaving unpleasant patches of raw skin on her face. Her shoulders and the front of her legs hadn’t escaped the attack of lobster red either. She smiled remembering how embarrassed she’d been when she’d seen her face in the mirror. She found her mortification on that day amusing now she’d matured a bit.

  The sun from the present was also touching her face with its warming hands. She slowly opened her eyes, gazing down at the lines on the road. The car was zooming along, causing the lines to become one long white line marking the concrete. She sensed they were going way over the speed limit. She glanced either side of her out the windows and saw that they were roaring past all the other cars; though the motorway wasn’t busy. She figured the driver was making the most of the free space.

  She felt him pump down on the gas pedal and discreetly peered round his seat to look at the MPH gauge. Nearly 100 and increasing. Her eyes widened with unease.

  In the corner of her vision, she saw the driver’s face shift in the rear view mirror and her gaze snapped up. They locked eyes with each other for a short moment. A small smile played along his lips as he saw her anxious kyanite-coloured eyes flicker to the dashboard. He knew what she was unconsciously implying and despite the fact he found her reaction amusing and quite cute, he wasn’t in the mood to tease, so he eased off the gas pedal.

  She felt the car slow down and glanced at the dial again. Eighty. She released a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding then peeked at him from between her lashes when he wasn’t looking.

  It was like he'd read her mind. She balked despite knowing how ridiculous the idea was and looked squarely out the glass to her right. She purposefully leaned unnecessarily close to her door out of his line of sight and remained there.

  This gave him no choice but to pay full attention to the road. He tried, only to be bombarded with the thoughts he’d struggled to silence for days. He was indecisive – almost confused- about how this journey would affect him. He wasn’t even sure of how it affected him right now. He couldn’t think straight and that set his eyebrows into a solid frown. With his long fingers locked around the steering wheel, he stared at the road, barely seeing it.

  They were all intoxicated by the silence, swimming in their own thoughts for another ten minutes or so, before her aunt’s chirpy voice broke through the quiet like a high-pitched telephone ringer.

  Jaz seemed to be the only one who flinched as her aunt began with, “So, Jaz.”

  She turned to her aunt at the sound of her name, not looking forward to answering whatever question her aunt was about to ask.

  She didn’t like talking in a confined space when only her voice could be heard- especially in front of strangers. She glanced at the driver who had his eyes fixed on the road, apparently not listening. Her uncle tilted his head slightly to look in her direction but not quite meeting her face with his gaze. “You like the countryside?” her aunt inquired.

  Jasmine hesitated, glancing out the front window at the vast expanse of lush green and yellow fields, sweeping up and down across steep hills. “I guess,” she replied, adding a little shrug. Her voice was low and her throat felt phlegmy from keeping her mouth closed for so long. She cleared it almost inaudibly, not knowing what else to say. She could see her aunt waiting for her to continue.

  When she didn’t, her aunt threw her a line. “There’s a lot of farming land around here. You also see a lot of horses, not just cows and sheep. You like horses don’t you? You’ve got a painting of one in your room right?”

  Jaz nodded. She was surprised by her comment. Her aunt had only been in her room once not long after they’d met and yet she’d still remembered the painting. “Yeah, it’s an Arabian black horse.”

  “Beautiful animals,” her uncle agreed.

  “Yes,” she replied in a soft voice. She self-consciously gazed down at the floor.

  “Have you ever been horse riding?” her uncle asked. She looked up and found him with his body turned her way; his light brown eyes beaming. It was a topic he clearly enjoyed talking about.

  “A few times. I’m no jockey but I enjoyed it a lot.”

  He nodded in agreement. Her aunt was gazing at her with a look of intrigue in her expression. The driver was listening intently though his poker-face revealed nothing.

  “Oh it’s a wonderful pastime. I’ve not ridden in several years mind you. Not since I did my back in.” She didn’t ask him how, expecting him to tell her. But instead he moved on and asked, “When was the last time you went riding?”

  “When I was fifteen. I went to a local riding school for my work experience. It was for two weeks and is pretty much the only experience I’ve ever had with horses,” she explained with regret.

  “Oh dear, you must have gotten all the dirty jobs I bet?” her au
nt inquired, smiling apologetically.

  Jaz pressed her lips together to contain a grin as she half-nodded half-cocked her head side to side, speculating. “It wasn’t that bad. I had to clean out the stables of course, clean and polish tack, groom and feed the horses. But the best part was collecting them from the fields for the lessons. I’d never ridden one before then and I had to ride them down narrow country roads bareback.”

  The driver tried not to look her way as she said that. He was a man; he couldn’t help it when a word like that caused explicit images to overpower his mind. And it had been so long since… He bit down on his teeth, nearly cracking them to pieces.

  Down boy, he ordered, eyeing his crotch. It obeyed. He hated how weak his body could be.

  Jaz also became uneasy by the word the moment she said it. She didn’t know where the feeling came from but she speedily smothered it, adding, “I mean -we couldn’t carry all the saddles there. We sometimes had to collect nine or more horses at a time between four people.”

  Her aunt nodded in understanding, seemingly unaware that Jaz had stumbled over her words. “Yes, well I’m not a great horse riding fan myself. I wouldn’t have been able to do what you did. Your uncle was always much better than me. He has a way with horses. I’m more of a dog person,” her aunt replied with a smile.

  Jaz tried not to pull a face. “Really?” It wasn’t an actual question but Jaz only said it because it seemed the polite thing to do.

  The driver detected the false note in her voice and flashed a momentary glance at her reflection.

  “Oh yes. I used to breed them actually, when I was much younger. And sell them. Pedigree of course.” Jaz smiled weakly. “Your father never mentioned you ever having a dog. Or a cat even. That surprised me.”

  “Why?”

  “It seems the norm in a household to have a pet,” Erica replied with a shrug.

  Jaz looked at her aunt directly. “I don’t really… like dogs.”

  Everyone was suddenly very quiet. She felt like she’d missed something. She gazed at her aunt searching for any signs she’d offended her, in her expression. Her aunt looked almost amused by her remark. So did her uncle for that matter. It confused her but she apologized anyway. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong.”

  “No, I’m sure it came out exactly right.”

  “Well, I mean, I don’t hate them or have anything against them. I just wouldn’t want one as a pet. Dogs more than cats.”

  “Why is that?”

  Her uncle swung round as her aunt asked what they were all curious to hear. The driver felt the urge to turn around too. He didn’t of course. Instead he glanced at Jaz in the mirror regularly.

  She didn’t notice. She hadn’t looked up since she got the creepy feeling he could read her mind. Irrational of course but still, she avoided his reflection. She tried to pick her words carefully as she responded. “Um… well, when I was about ten. Ten?” she asked herself as she glanced up at the roof of the car. “No eleven.” She looked back down at her aunt and uncle. “I was out in the park not far from my house. With my dad. And then this-this massive dog that was on a lead suddenly yanked free from his owner and bolted in my direction. I wasn’t scared of them then but I knew it looked pretty piss- I mean- angry, and I was bricking it but I didn’t want to run in case it took that as reason to chase me.

  “It wouldn’t have made much difference ‘cos it jumped on me anyway, knocked me over and tried to bite chunks out of my face while I struggled to hold it back.” Her aunt was watching her in shock. Her uncle hadn’t moved an inch. “My dad tried to pull it off. Even with the owner yanking at the lead it wouldn’t budge. It gave up on my face and got a grip on my arm. Luckily I had a lot of layers on so the worst of his bite was on my coat. I don’t know how many people it took to yank that bloody thing off of me but they finally did. I was lucky. Only a few scratches. But after that, I just kept well away from dogs. Even the little ones. He was a pretty big bugger. One of those police dogs.”

  “Alsatians,” her uncle offered. She nodded once.

  The air had become so tense from her story; she didn’t like the attention. She smiled lightly and shrugged as if to say, ‘oh well, shit happens.’

  “Good enough reason,” her aunt added.

  Jaz caught the end of a purposeful look from her aunt, to the driver in the mirror. She didn’t see his response in time, because she’d have had to lean in to see. She was sure she’d seen her aunt look his way but when her aunt caught her watching her, she didn’t appear startled or wary.

  In fact she replied with a warm smile, appearing oblivious to her niece’s searching eyes. Erica had amusement, and an expression Jaz couldn’t name –irony- in her gaze. “Interesting,” Erica then murmured, mostly to herself.

  Jaz wondered if maybe she was just being paranoid and over thinking things as usual. She tended to do that a lot lately. It didn’t stop her from eyeing her aunt and uncle uncertainly.

  She leaned back, continuing to occupy the space right by the window, so her right shoulder was squished against part of the door and glass. She stared in front; boring her searching eyes into the back of the driver’s shaved head.

  ~Chapter 6- Whack~

  Saturday May 7th, 2011, 12:46 p.m. Petrol Station

  “Pit stop. We’ve got about two more hours driving so now’s the time for toilet breaks,” Aunt Erica announced.

  Jaz pulled on the handle of her door leaning her weight against it ready to step out but it didn’t budge. She nearly smacked her face against the glass from sitting too close. She pulled it again and frowned when she realized the door was locked. She was focusing closely on the lock that the sudden pop as it was opened made her jump.

  She blinked repeatedly adjusting to the sudden change in light as someone’s shadow loomed over her. She snapped her head up – a lot higher than she’d expected she’d need to- at the tall figure of the driver. She didn’t think he could look any taller than when she’d first seen him but she was mistaken. His height made her nervous. And he wasn’t a slight man either.

  He had a faint smile on his lips and watched her for a short moment before cocking his head back in one quick motion. A signal for her to get out of the car. That irritated her. She didn’t like the way it seemed like he was giving her permission, and she didn’t like how her startled reaction had amused him.

  She pushed the door open with more force than was necessary and slammed it equally as forceful, giving him a look that was almost a scowl. She was too well-mannered to stab him with the full strength of her annoyance, hiding very close behind the surface of her eyes.

  He was quick to see what annoyance she did reveal however and he turned the smile off like switching off a light.

  This made her feel victorious –though it did seem just a tad petty in her mind. She then swung round to look back at her aunt as she announced, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  The driver began filling up the car.

  “Okay darling,” her aunt replied. “We’ll be here. Oh Jaz?” Jaz turned around. “You want something to eat or drink?” Jaz shrugged. “Is there anything you’d like?”

  “I’ll get my own food when I come back.”

  “Oh now, don’t be silly. You’re in my care now. I can’t be having that.” Jaz knew she’d say that but it still made her uncomfortable. She didn’t like anyone else but her parents spending money on her. No matter how small. It seemed rude. “So, what’ll it be?” Her aunt’s tone gave no room for argument.

  Jaz sighed with defeat. “I’m not fussed.”

  Her aunt smiled. “I’ll find something. Drink? Something fizzy, pop, pepsi?”

  Jaz shook her head. “Um, real orange juice if they have it, if not water is fine.”

  “Oh yes, I forgot you don’t like soft drinks.”

  “Not much no.”

  Her aunt grinned, praising herself inwardly for her good memory. “Okay, orange juice it is. Don’t be too long, will you? I want to be there before it get
s dark.”

  Jaz nodded and shuffled quietly away towards the side of the building.

  The toilets were separate to the shop, standing flush against the right outside wall of the filling station, visible from the parked Mercedes. She stepped in, holding her nose as the smell of piss attacked her and cautiously sidled into the first cubicle, peering down the loo to make sure there were no brown logs lurking inside. Discovering she was safe, she did her business and came out washing her hands whilst she gazed at her reflection. She sighed. “You look like shit, Barker.”

  Her little, deep-blue handbag that carried her toiletries and make up was slung across her shoulder. She slid it off and placed it on the counter by the sink. She unzipped it and then unzipped the make up bag without taking it out. She found her concealer and dabbed it under her eyes, smoothing it in. After applying a crème pink lippy and some rose blush she scrutinized herself in the mirror.

  The sudden terrifying image whacked her in the face like a hard slap, coating her retinas so she couldn’t see the room in front of her. The shock of it caused her to knock over the makeup bag as she jumped back in fright. The bag hit the tiles with a cushiony-smack and the contents flew across the floor in a fan shape. She didn’t pick them up straight away; still in shock. “What the hell was that?” she gasped, asking the frightened girl in the mirror.

  She knew what she saw though she had never seen anything like it before. Her question was more accurately- how the hell could an image -as vivid as if it had been right there with her in the bathroom- have shot out at her like that?

  It was a face. A deformed face that had appeared out of nowhere in her mind. Not a memory and not a hallucination. It felt really… present and close. She shivered.

  Goosebumps ran up her arms underneath her leather jacket. She rubbed her sleeves automatically. The soft leather made a whispery sweeping sound under her fingers.

  A face. She thought again, trying to describe it in her head; trying to see it again though afraid it would attack her like it had before. It didn’t. Only the memory of the image returned like a distorted photograph. A blurred image on a digi-camera.

 

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