New Blood (The Blood Saga Book 2)
Page 12
Jezabell nodded, perhaps in agreement or Lara’s quick reprieve. None the less, she looked relieved. Gabriel’s same hospitable smile replaced to his lips as he stood.
His hand laid palm down under his mates which so carefully laid a top of his. Soft nods were exchanged even light kisses upon cheeks. No words were spoken in this farewell.
Damien refused to meet their icy stare. Fist was balled in one hand, he idly bit onto his knuckle. The other hand kept tucked around my waist- clinched tight as he was unwilling to release me. As soon as they were gone Phoenix was sitting across from Damien and me, watching me. His good humor was gone.
“Damien, what truth was there in all of that?” Jezabell asked the moment the door closed behind them.
He sighed deeply. “Demetrius contacted them personally and offered them immunity. And from what I could tell a good deal of money for their loyalty. Part of the deal was for them to come here and learn what they could. If at all possible gain our trust and lead us directly to him.” Damien’s eyes were black with anger.
What a good night this had turned out to be.
What happened next came on as a shock. It was painful. Dizzying at the very least. For the first split second my mind flinched back. Recoiling from his penetrating ravage of my thoughts. A blessing in disguise, the pain had utterly silenced me.
I felt my eyes dim. As I stared out through the glass doors across the room, my expression became stoic and blank. The only thing that could have given me away was the faintest sharp intake of breath.
Damien had seen something more in the threat of my capabilities. Things I had not shared. His anger was a living thing in that moment. More tangible than I had ever imagined from him.
The only way to describe it would be to say he raided my mind. He shred any defense I could manage, and ripped through my head until he had complete control. When I thought it was over, I was wrong. He was relentless.
Everyone else mostly talked amongst themselves as if we were not there at all. We sat motionless together. A carved statue of two lovers I am sure is how we appeared with his arms wrapped around me, holding my body to his. It had become agonizing though I wouldn’t show it again even if in slight.
Still he went deeper. The dreams. Every dream. Every nightmare was fresh in my eyes. They were so much more real this way, living through them in my waking state. The pain so very real. The deaths I was forced to relive so horrific.
The dreams I had long forgotten from my humanity were more alive than they had ever been. Though the dreams had been a haze in my mortality, and harder to recall even as an immortal, they were crystal clear to me now. He had become quite determined to unlock my secrets. Determined the answer to his questions must be hidden in my nightmares. Be it our future or his past. He wouldn’t stop until he had what he wanted.
Lara went and slid her lithe tiny frame onto the back of the couch perched above Jezie, almost protectively. I couldn’t focus on her enough to know if she was aware of what Damien was really doing. Had she seen this coming? Not that it mattered. No one could stop him. No one would. They all wanted answers. Damien had been acting crazed for some time now. I should have known something like this would happen.
Suddenly, Damien stopped abruptly. Even the way he did that felt painful, breaking away from my mind so crudely.
Remaining as motionless as ever, I stared blankly past them. Fighting to recover myself silently. I feared a single breath may cause me to cry out. I knew very well that Damien wasn’t done. He was gearing up for the next round.
After some time, I realized Phoenix’s eyes were boring into mine. I hadn’t really been seeing. He looked more furious than I had ever seen him. He knew. Did they all know now? I’d never felt so sorry in all my existence, as if all the pain and turmoil in this House were all upon me. Using all my control I allowed myself to close my eyelids, as I could not yet look away.
Surrounded by a houseful of people, I had never felt so alone. When more of the pain subsided I was able to open them, looking anywhere but Phoenix, who hadn’t budged.
Hendrick snickered, raising his hand up, pointing from his eyes to mine. So maybe not everyone knew. Good. I forced my composure. Winking at Hendrick, I made a teeth clinking sound with an exaggerated bite. I only teased him of course. Hendrick mocked me with a menacing tone, “So fierce.”
Hendrick walked over behind Damien. Sliding him into a headlock he leaned down to whisper into his ear. It seemed like everyone was trying to distract him. Maybe it was my imagination. “Watch her, Damien. Someone’s going to nab your lil pire if you’re not careful.”
Quite suddenly, Damien’s fist came up and grappled behind Hendrick’s head. Hendrick’s feet flipped up over his head and ours for a crash landing on his back in front of our chair. “I watch close enough to keep you at bay,” Damien spoke with dark threat tainting his words.
Hendrick’s landing made the room quake. He let out a gust of wind, and a grumph noise as he landed. Hendrick shot up and paused, considering a counter attack. At last he went back to leaning against a wall. Though most would be, Hendrick was not ill set about it. He just laughed, grinning all the while. The night went on calmly enough then on. For everyone else that is.
Damien had not been finished with me. It continued again immediately after the episode with Hendrick, and went on for the remainder of the night.
At long last it stopped. When it did, we were alone in the living room. When did that happen? Where was Phoenix? Had he seen enough to be done with me?
Damien guided me upstairs, but I felt like a hallow shell as I walked like a zombie. Once we were in his room, he pulled me down onto the couch beside him, refusing to relinquish my hand. We sat in silence for a long time before he started. He surely felt how tight my body was.
It hurt him to think I didn’t want him to be a part of my life. He wasn’t like this. I’d pushed him clean over the edge.
Every part of me ached, to the very core. I’d never been so tired, living or otherwise. Neither of us said a word for nearly half an hour. “I am so sorry,” he groaned it through grit teeth. As if coming to from a daze, I turned to look at him. “I don’t know what came over me. I couldn’t stop.” Releasing my hand, he doubled over, fingers clutching at the short tufts of hair on the back of his head as if he wanted to pull it out. “I tried! I swear to you I tried to stop, but I couldn’t!” his fervent pleas were muffled by his knees.
Silent sobs shook his shoulders. Leaning over him my arms wrapped around the balled up man, clinging tightly. My cheek lay onto his back. A once white shirt was wrinkled, showing many more signs it had been worn for too long. “Tell me what happened,” I suggested calmer than I expected myself to be.
Sitting up, I tugged at his shoulders until he submitted, laying over onto my lap. For the first time in more time than I wanted to count we were curled closely together. Instinctively we tangled together on a couch not quite big enough for the two of us, not that either of us cared. Idly my hand ran through his hair. “I don’t know,” he confessed, sounding more confused than stricken now. “I hardly remember initiating the contact. There was nothing but the need for it.”
After a moment of quiet he turned to look up at me. “Why aren’t you angry?”
Helplessly my shoulders rose in a shrug. “You needed to know… It was a means to a very important end.” Sometimes there is so much to say, that all we can find room for is silence. And so it lingered. Silence… He laid there against me, saying nothing, unmoving.
“Did it help? Do you remember?”
Eyes closing, he only nodded. “Why do you think I feel so disgusted with myself?” he grumbled through a sigh. Eventually he looked up at me, eyes filled with remorse. Raising his hand to my cheek his fingers touched my cool flesh. “I’m so sorry.”
“What do you remember?” my voice was a whisper, almost afraid to ask.
Another sigh. “Everything as a mortal. The fighting. The blood. Mass funeral pyres for our slaughtered peopl
e.” The distant look in his eyes seemed to recall. “I remember dying. Hating myself for not saving you.” After a moment a slight smile pulled at his lips. “I remember more good than the dreams ever gave you. Beauty. Magic. Sand…” and the name he didn’t want to say. Shayla.
“So say it,” I spit it out around the lip held between my teeth. “You remember her.”
“Yes… I do. Life was very different than it is now, or has been since.” His hand lay down across his chest. Still curled into my lap he didn’t push to touch me more. He knew what I wanted to hear. What he clearly didn’t want to say.
“Just say it. I can’t touch your thoughts as you do mine.” Our gazes did not meet. With this he sat up, turning to lean back into the couch so he could face me, but not be connected to me.
“I don’t yet know for sure. Shayla kept her magic private. I was entirely mortal. She never told me of any spell, but she wouldn’t have. Casting was very sacred for her. It was not something she shared openly.” As he spoke I’d been unable to look at him, simply watching my toes, and the toe rings I’d found in my bag to wear. I’d forgotten how much I cared for jewelry. “Anna…” there were so many ways to end the sentence that he simply chose not to.
“It’s okay… One day perhaps you can tell me all about it. I only remember the dreams. And like you said… they were not so good.” Perhaps it was a way to change the subject, but a query struck me. Had he seen it? “Did you see the lion?”
“What lion?” His bafflement was obvious without hi saying as much. “On the island?”
“It’s an island, huh,” was my only comment to that. His mouth puckered uncomfortably. It was a strange sensation I could only compare to jealousy. I’d suffered those dreams all my life as a mortal, so few of them good, and only those as a very young child. He got all the good memories. All I had was the pain. “The lion, a week ago… A mountain lion past the boarder.”
To my frustration his response was criticizing. “I told Phoenix it’s not safe to-”
“He wasn’t far. I was safe,” I cut him off. “Do you want to know about the damn lion, or not?” my tone was far more gentle than my words, all because more than anything I was just tired. So very tired.
Not saying another word about it, he simply nodded. “I think I might be… coming into my own so to speak I guess.”
“You killed a lion?” he didn’t seem overly impressed, but he humored me with a smile. “That’s good,” he did sound genuine.
Smirking, I shook my head. “Not how you think, but yes it’s quite dead.” A curious brow arched in return. “It’s actually hard to explain really. I’d hoped you’d seen it…” If one good thing could have come from it, I’d have liked him to know how far I’d come without feeling like a five year old showing off their first report card.
Tilting his head he considered a moment. “I could still see it… If you’d trust me to of course.” An involuntary shudder shot straight down my spine out through my toes and fingers. “I won’t hurt you,” he defended before I could say no. Leaning forward his hands captured one of mine between his.
The look in his eyes was pure honesty, a pinch of self-loathing, and absolute remorse “I will never be able to apologize enough for what I did, but I will spend a life time trying to fix what I broke between us tonight. Even if you do ultimately choose to leave.” It was the first time in weeks he’d sounded like himself. Level toned, collected, and in control. He even acknowledged the possibility of my leaving without disdain, trying to prove I really did have a choice, but that’d he fight for me. “Will you show me, Anna?”
Still hesitant with the pain so raw in my mind, my mouth puckered as my brows furrowed. “I’ll just need you to close your eyes, put yourself back in the woods on the day you saw the mountain lion. Relive it in your mind thoroughly. Could we try it that way?”
It really seemed like the simplest idea. It was difficult to explain, and apparently trying to describe it was muddling my thoughts.
Sitting just as I was, my eyes closed and my head leaned forward. Just as I sat during my more recent meditations that I’d been doing. They helped focus me. I’d been using Neesa’s techniques.
I’d been in the woods for the better half of the day waiting for the perfect hunt, with Phoenix never too far, if not for my sanity than for my safety. When I caught the scent of the mountain lion, immediately I began the slow predatory dance. I seemed to have a knack for killing. The quickest kill is to jump atop the prey. They never see it coming. Gives you the closest access to the neck, the kill spot. There’s always other ways of course. I had no want to prolong their suffering. They may have been food, but they were innocent.
So still to this day, I cannot explain why I did what I did. Stalking through the trees, above even where the mountain lions roamed, I watched him. When I was ready, I wove through the limbs like a spider through her web, and fell to the earth. Right in front of him. Certainly he was surprised, but unafraid. He was a predator. He wasn’t going to show fear. Rather than bellowing out that wild sound, a low growl throttled in the base of his throat as he stared back, as if to say, challenge accepted.
Having given myself over to the wild instincts of the hunt, I was nearly as animalistic as the beast himself. We stood frozen, the both of us locked in a death stare. Neither moved.
Before I realized what was going on, it happened. I was in the beasts mind. It was a strange experience. There are no words in the mind of an animal. Just emotions and instinct. He wasn’t afraid of me even though he knew I was the predator now, not him.
The further into his mind I went, the more I connected to him. The more I felt a part of him. Until ultimately we became one.
Slowly he lay to the ground. Rolling onto his side, his head stretched out exposing his neck. In the same instant I was on him.
He hadn’t been ready to die, but he’d laid down for it anyway. As I’d become a part of him, I’d taken hold of his will and demolished it.
My eyes opened as my head lift, looking to Damien expectantly. Opening his eyes slowly, he just stared at me. “Do you think you can do it again?”
“Didn’t you see it?” My eyes narrowed with confusion.
“You don’t understand. I want you to take a hold of my mind in the same way you did the beast. Can you do it again?” My eyes went wide with surprise. Was he serious? “Very. Try it.”
We’d moved to the middle of the room on the floor and sat facing each other. Both of our legs crossed, knees just inches apart.
Our eyes held each other’s gazes steadily. It wasn’t as it had once been. At first I really wasn’t sure what to do. I hadn’t been certain of what triggered it the first time.
For nearly thirty minutes we remained silent, staring at one another. I could feel his mind close to mine. I still felt like me though. This wasn’t the same as before. Not yet. I wanted more. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. Closing my eyes, my head hung forward.
He allowed me the time to collect myself. To clear my head I spent a moment in meditation. Palms up. Feel the energy flowing through you. Find your center. Release your thoughts. Wipe the slate clean. Feeling better I looked back up to him.
Slowly without breaking our trance his hands reached for mine, taking a firm hold. The connection was incredible as it was instant.
His memories felt even more infinite than the space in his mind. The strongest memories in his mind were those with me. He kept those closest to him not for how current, but how he cherished them. That would hurt me later. As if swimming out to sea, I moved deeper into his mind, until I could no longer see land. Until I could no longer see me. For the memories I wanted, I swam from the surface down into the deepest crevasses of the ocean.
As his memories came to life and played before me I was no longer separate from him. The memories were as my own memories. The first one to consume me was frightening.
Starved to the point of madness, Damien moved through the street like a crazed drunk. It
was night. The moon was high and the air was dank, ripe with filth of the poor.
This was his first memory as a Vampire. I could feel his confusion. He didn’t understand what he was, nor where he was.
Food was so revolting he couldn’t keep it down. No amount of water could quench his thirst though he tried desperately to do so. He was dying of starvation, and maddened with the voices in his head.
Never before had he heard the thoughts of others. But at this time, there were no thoughts before this. He didn’t know his own name.
Dried blood covered his head and face as he had dug away at his own flesh with his fingers in desperate attempt to be free of the insanity that was telepathy. He wasn’t able to heal being so young, and having never fed.
Stumbling through the streets in his delirium, he tripped over a passed out drunk behind a tavern. Instinct bought Damien down right on top of him. The drunk did little more than grunt in response.
The unfortunate bum had been in a fight, and thrown out of the tavern after apparently losing. He had dried blood on his face from a broken nose and something having been smashed down against his skull.
The smell was overwhelming to Damien. The liquor, urine, and other putrid odors were suddenly nothing. The only smell was the blood.
Before he could comprehend his actions, Damien was licking the man’s face clean. Once the blood was gone he sucked on the wound on his head. When no more blood would ooze from gash on his ratty head Damien began gnawing on the wound.
The pain from this caused the drunk to stir and groan out in agony. As he came around more, the groans turned to screams as he lashed out against Damien.
Savage from starvation, Damien was more monster than man. Arms wrapping around him, Damien’s hands clutched to the bum’s shoulders, shattering the bones instantly. The screams were loud enough now that soon people would be coming to see what was happening.