Awakening - Book of Fire (Blood Heritage)

by Krista Gray-Fee

  "Has anyone ever tried to hurt you?" Amber says with a touch of worry in her voice.

  "No, not here. This town has a special acceptance and understanding that many do not. This is a place of mysteries, magic and superstitions, there is a long and deeply rooted history of the occult and all sorts of happenings. No one that has lived in these parts long can deny there is something more than is on the surface of living. There are deeper layers that can only be seen when the circumstances are right. Some find out the hard way, and others just have a sense it is there, but everyone knows."

  "It's not always going to be pleasant when people come looking for me. Though I don't believe there will ever be a major problem, there are sometimes harsh words. Most days are very pleasant and I get to help lots of people with little things. Perhaps I will have to do a reading on you sometime; Amber, have a look at what the spirits say about you"...

  There is an awkward moment of silence and she follows it with a laughing observation. "You’re far too pretty to be running around without a husband! "

  "Oh, that’s it! You gonna give me one of those ‘you are going to meet someone dark and handsome’ readings?"

  "Yep, that’s exactly what I had in mind"... they both laugh. "See you in the morning, and by the way, you chose the perfect outfit, you fit right in."

  Amber happily walks home truly enjoying the weather and scenery of this spectacular area. The old homes with all of their character and charm are so addictive. She has taken to drawing some of the more interesting detail work in a little notebook.

  She has fallen particularly in love with the many carvings that adorn the arches and doorways and the statues and wrought iron gates of some of the more elegant properties. There is a sense that everything is lost somewhere in the past and refuses to give up to modern aesthetics.

  The beauty of the past can be seen and felt here. This place has a very special energy; Rissa is right about that, there is something just below the surface of perception, some kind of trembling anticipation she can feel, that doesn't completely register in her conscious mind.

  Amber is connecting to this place, she is finally home. Approaching her own little piece of heaven, she again takes an appreciative long look at her yard from the street. Such a perfect little haven from the outside world. Tonight she will enjoy a simple dinner, and a little dance in her living room. She can use the back of the couch as a ballet bar until she gets something set up in what is currently a library and office. She needs to box up all the books and do a little remodeling, but it will be wonderful having a place to dance again. Maybe she can begin teaching a class or two from home, Rissa may even let her advertise at the store.

  Getting ready for bed, Amber revisits the events of the day, there were so many new names and faces she wants to remember so she can provide their drinks without them having to tell her their order.

  Feeling a tinge of sadness for the man and his worried wife and for the young woman who left the store with such heavy tears, Amber feels burdened. Rissa seemed like a whole different person in the presence of these people and Amber is not sure how comfortable she is around this side of her new friend. The thought of it gives her the chills.

  Amber considers what Rissa said about her having the sight. What is the sight? and why would a stranger say she has it? If Rissa is using this sight when she talks to all those poor people, then Amber is sure she isn't interested in having any part of it herself. She falls asleep with the faces of the coffee house visitors bouncing through her head.

  Secrets

  Rissa is very happy with how the day has gone, she knows Amber has no idea she is perfectly following the plans that had been laid out for her. She so desperately wants to fit in, and to make real friends.

  Amber is a very naive and sweet girl with no idea what power she possesses or her place in the events of the future and the past. Amber is a lost child that must be guided back into the underground before he finds her. How she ever made it this far is amazing. She must be very strong, just like her Grandmother. Rissa muses to herself.

  Aria; Amber's Grandmother purchases the store for her, and puts Rissa in charge of making sure Amber ends up well protected by the circle and its keepers. Amber is never to know she is being guided or protected, because Aria predicts such interference will only make her panic and run. If Amber is left on her own, there is no telling the damage she could unleash.

  Aria is well aware she has been found, that her life is nearing its end, and though she hopes to be the one teaching Amber of her gifts, she knows that will not be possible.

  She has been dreaming of him again. His tendrils of darkness exploring her mind for even the slightest opening to come and finish what he started when he took her husband from her so long ago. She is ready for him, and will gladly give up her body and her blood, but not even the slightest corner of her mind will she open for his exploration.

  She has lived a very long life, and is ready to cross to the other side, to reunite with her ancestors and to see those who have so long ago given their lives to bring her out of the darkness.

  Everything comes with a price in this world and for Amber, she is ready to pay. The end will come sooner than she expects and much will be left unfinished, but there is no way to stop him when he comes to call. He is so undeniable in his beauty, and his warm breath wakes her from her sleep.

  He kisses her lips with tender passion and she feels his hands as they explore her. It has been many years since she has been close to him, yet she can remember the pleasure of his every touch as though it were only yesterday.

  She kisses him back with pent-up longing. She knows this is a dream, a very dangerous one; she knows this is the end, and she succumbs to his need. He pushes his fingers inside her, and roughly forces her legs wide, his other hand wrapping in her hair, fiercely pulling her head back.

  There is no gentleness in his taking of her. His teeth sharp against her flesh drawing blood from her sensitive breasts. She dares not fight him, for he always takes what he wants.

  As he thrusts deep within her, she feels as though he is tearing her apart, he opens her with no sensitivity to her long years of loneliness and he is thick and hard. He wants her to suffer, to feel the pain of her betrayal. She will bleed for him and pay penance for what she has done.

  Though she has been one of his most prized children, now he has no use for her, and she will die. His rhythm steady and aggressive, each stroke causes her to cry out in pleasure and pain. He uses a sharp and wicked blade he wears on his wrist to open a small gash in both her thighs, his aim is true and her blood washes over him hot and fragrant as he takes her harder, her screams bringing him to the apex of pleasure.

  He pierces her throat with his blade, just a little nick is all that is necessary. He laps at the blood that trickles from the tiny wound. Flicking the blade just a bit deeper into her flesh until the warm stream becomes a river, he draws it into himself.

  He gorges not as a vampire drinks of blood to survive or a child nurses the mother for nourishment. He drinks of her as a God, taking back a gift he feels is no longer deserved. He takes all she has left to give.

  She does not know she is dying in the moment, and this is how he wants it to be. She fades into the darkness and his rage climaxes inside her lifeless and bloodless body. He has taken everything from her and leaves her in shame and weakness as all women who have betrayed him end.

  She is his, and always will be. It is not her body or her pleasure that bring him joy, but the absolute power he holds over her.

  He stands back admiring his work, her pale and frozen face so beautiful to him, her life’s blood still spreading beneath her as in birthing. The bite marks on her chest no longer bleeding but beautifully dark.

  He appreciates the small pleasures of inflicting pain on these lowly creatures. Women are so easy to control, so weak and yet so lovely and necessary to his needs.

  They say she died in her sleep, painless and peaceful. There is no evident cause of
death, only that her heart stopped beating. She is gone when they find her and there is nothing anyone can do to save her. She leaves everything to her adopted granddaughter and it takes only days to find the girl in Seattle.

  Her arrest record making it pretty easy to track her down. She is using a variety of assumed names, but for the detective who is looking, she is easy prey. The death of Aria Edwards causes a great stir in the underground, the circle has been broken, but only for a moment and the girl must be protected.

  Rissa knows Aria did not die as they said, her heart is heavy with the burden of her responsibility. When Amber shows up, she is far stronger and much more pleasant than Rissa expects, and befriending the girl is a pleasure.

  They probably would have easily found themselves in the same circumstances had there been no outside influences pushing them together. Rissa is instantly fond of Amber. He must never find her, and Aria has given her life to ensure that she is well hidden from his sight. The least Rissa can do is offer her friendship, stability and protection.

  The circle is in vigil on the night of Aria's death. The fog is called down to cover his eyes and to cloak the innocent. Though they did not manage to cover Aria in time, the others are saved from his prying.

  He will not be back for a while and Amber will have some time to learn of their ways. She will grow to understand her place among them and to discover her gifts. Her heritage cannot be denied, the Circle has plans for her.

  But if Rissa has anything to do with it, she will be given the knowledge and power to create her own path, for nothing is set in stone, not even the destiny of the dark children.

  The Missing

  "What do you mean there may be other girls?" James hissed into the phone. "Are there or aren't there?"

  "Well, sir, there are four missing person's reports from around the same time frame. They match the description and are the same age as your victims. There is no evidence and hasn't been the slightest break in any of their cases. The circumstances of their disappearances are rather strange. It looks like they just walked off the face of the planet. Just take a look at their information and decide for yourself, I will have it couriered over this afternoon."

  The dump site provides little insight for James and he rushes back to the office trying to find a thread to follow in this strange case. The site is free of any major blood evidence, making it obvious that it is not the kill site.

  They are still looking for where these poor girls gave birth, and where they were killed. Now there may be other girls... James is frustrated by the lack of details. There are so many unanswered questions.

  Joanna rests a hand on his shoulder and explains her findings. "I’ve never seen anything like this. Toxicology came back with no trace evidence of any recognizable drug in their systems, but extremely abnormal levels of dopamine were present in all three, so far out of normal realms it had to have been caused by some kind of drug.

  These girls were in euphoria when they died. Their pleasure receptors were on overdrive. We’ll continue to analyze possibilities, but I am at a loss as to how this could have happened." She knows this information will not sit well with James, especially since it only creates more unanswered questions.

  He stares at the pictures on the wall, their smiling faces looking back at him accusingly. He has nothing to offer them, but he won't let this go until he can lay these beautiful girls to rest with some dignity. He opens the package from the courier and has no doubt that these four girls have been taken by the same man.

  Just as before, they could all be sisters. Every one of them is young, pretty, and missing. What a tragedy this will be if they all meet the same bloody end. And where are their children? Perhaps this is some kind of breeding ring.

  Someone selling babies on the black market, but why get rid of the mothers this way, they are still young and quite capable of generating more offspring. Nothing about this makes any sense to him, or anyone else for that matter, but his team is working every possible angle and he knows he works with the best.

  He adds the four pictures to the wall beneath the three dead girls’ photos. These he looks at with a bit of hopefulness. Their eyes seem to beg him for rescue, the judgment of the others is missing in these new photos. There is now a sense of urgency within him to bring them home to their loved ones. There is a possibility these girls might still be alive. There must be a common tie between all these girls, he thinks

  Joanna comes running back to his desk, excited and out of breath. "The DNA just came in on all the samples that were sent in for the dead girls and you are never going to believe this! These three girls are half-sisters, they are related by blood! They all have the same father!"

  "Is that possible?" James asks, "is it possible that the samples were cross-contaminated?"

  "I’m having them run fresh samples on the girls, but I took the samples myself and I’m sure they were clean. The three dead girls are sisters, that is why they look so much alike!"

  That is the common tie between them. And if the same holds true for the others, this could be one for the record books. We have to find out who their father is, he may be the key to making the pieces fit.

  James thinks, his mind racing. He feels as though he is trying to catch up in a game of cat and mouse where he is never quite sure whether he is playing the role of the cat at all.

  James thanks her for the information and continues staring at the photos. They have so many similarities. These girls are nearly the same age, which means whoever fathered them worked on a very tight schedule. He must be some kind of ladies man, James reflects with a sense of angry wonder.

  This whole scenario seems so far-fetched, but he supposes it could be possible. Maybe he is a polygamist with many wives, maybe they live so far apart because he doesn't want them to know about each other.

  Maybe he travels the area for work and just sleeps around a lot. There are so many possibilities, but no matter how he looks at it, this guy is definitely seeing more action than anyone he has ever known.

  James realizes his shift technically ended two hours ago and decides to head home, to think in neutral territory where he can clear his mind. Everyone is on call, and on pins and needles hoping that the phone doesn't ring with news to come and clean up the remains of the other missing girls.

  As long as they remain missing, there is a reason to go on searching, and the possibility of making some peace with this brutality. He thrives on the hope that continues to push him to find the truth.

  James wants to see Amber before heading home, but knows it’s too late to just show up on her doorstep again. He really needs to curl up in her arms and let the world fade away for a while. He resists the temptation; he will try to call her tomorrow.

  The life of a detective is hard on relationships, he knows, and he has never really wanted to get seriously involved before. In the past, there have been many girls interested in him. He knows he is not bad looking, but they always seem a bit too eager.

  He never connects on the level that he did the moment he laid eyes on the quirky redhead. Smiling with her eyes, desire and innocence wrestling behind the clear blue, he has no trouble recognizing that she wants him; he is taken off guard by how strongly he wants to be with her in return.

  Wanting to know her, to protect her, to be with her every moment. There is no way now to turn off what has begun inside them both.

  She is already present in his thoughts, he is thinking of her as he closes his eyes, just for a minute he tells himself as he fades off into a deep and dark sleep. He sees her beautiful eyes staring up at him, her freckles prominent and unmistakable against the stark paleness of her skin.

  There is no smile now, only emptiness. He wakes with a start, his heart beating fast in his chest. Only a dream he assures himself, the product of a tired mind with too many trains of thought on the track at the same time.

  But there is something else in that dream, something he needs to identify. Some detail he has missed before. Why can't he pu
t his finger on it. Every time he looks at the crime scene photos he gets the same feeling there is something there he should be seeing.

  A mundane clue buried under all the strangeness and answerless questions. He will have to look deeper. Through the obvious and into the heart.

  Stormy Dreams

  Waking in the middle of the night, restless, Amber can't fall back to sleep. She decides to sit and catch a bit of television with her favorite brownie ice cream. The only things on this late are infomercials and news reports, so she turns on the local news.