Awakening - Book of Fire (Blood Heritage)

by Krista Gray-Fee

  Suddenly she is filled with horror over a photo she sees flash upon the screen. Rissa...what are they saying about her? Found murdered! Oh, wait... not her, this girl is far younger. Oh, wow... that was a scare! Just her luck, to finally find a job and her boss ends up dead before she even gets her first paycheck. She giggles, she is suffering from exhaustion and it is messing with her mind.

  She likes Rissa and the thought of her dying is disturbing, Amber has learned to deal with stress by pretending it doesn't bother her. She knows life is fleeting, she has seen death take her friends before.

  Amber does not pay much attention to the news, it is depressing her. She flips the channels giggling at the lose weight now commercials and crazy gadgets people apparently stay up all night to purchase. She wonders what kind of person enjoys this type of entertainment and decides to try going back to sleep, even staring into darkness is better than this garbage.

  Half asleep, Amber's mind wanders to far-away places. Her face is drenched by the pouring rain, though it comes down hard and she is soaked to the bone, the water is warm. There is something cleansing and comforting in this torrent.

  She can feel the forest floor beneath her soft and thick with grass. She is hiding beneath a tree, the leaves bent to cover her completely. She knows she is very young, and that she must remain still and silent. The strange lady tells her she must remain quiet, and no matter what she can't leave this place.

  She is alone, and she is scared, but nothing is scarier than the man on the mountain of steps, and so she waits. The screaming in the distance is fading, as is the taste of the blood, for this she is grateful. She patiently waits and waits as the water cleanses her and comforts her with its gentle touch.

  And then they are running, quickly through the thick foliage. There is no kindness in the way the leaves and sticks tear at her flesh and she begins to cry. The woman begs her to be quiet and does not slow. "Please child, I know you are scared, be still, be quiet, don't let him hear you. This is your only chance child, there will never be another."

  She speaks in a strange language and though the child understands the meaning, she does not understand the words. Suddenly, all is still around them and there is a heavy drum rhythm rising in the distance, the rain is gone and there is only darkness, she sees others but they do not speak to her, she buries her face in the shoulder of this stranger and smells the warm sweet fragrance of jasmine in her hair, Grandmother...

  Slowly waking from the dream, still smelling jasmine and warm earthy rain in her nostrils, Amber is grateful it is not blood she smells. She finds the reality of her dreams distracts her, that she sometimes can't distinguish the edges of them clearly.

  There is a soft place between where the two combine and the fabrics of the worlds interweave in complex patterns. She knows this recurring dream is not her own, she can't be this child, these places have long been lost to the sands of time. This is some kind of obsession with a past that no longer exists.

  Amber has done some reading and knows something of the places in her dreams; these temples, though still around are merely crumbling relics of a long lost civilization. The stone mountain with its blood-drenched steps stands abandoned and alone in the depths of the jungle.

  The Mayans thriving and worshiping there abandoned their sacred places long before she was even a thought. There are some remaining descendants of the culture, but none of the written accounts suggest the horrific rituals she dreams of ever occurred.

  Though the tribes are known for some individual bloodletting rituals and bloody sacrifices of captives of warring tribes, the scale of brutality she sees in her mind’s eye is historically inaccurate, at least that is what the textbooks say. She has her doubts.

  She is convinced she must have heard a story or seen a movie that stuck heavily in her mind affecting her on a deep level. Somehow a tremendous fear is building up inside her expressing itself in these dreams that will not let go of her.

  She magnifies the fear into a living and breathing spectre of evil. It is tremendous what power the mind has over our knowledge of reality sometimes. Amber's thoughts are heavy; There is no actual reality, only perception. No matter how often we tell ourselves there is no reason to fear the dark, there is always that little jump as we near the bed to keep the creatures under there from getting our feet as we get closer, or the closet door that must be closed to keep the darkness from escaping into the room.

  These are the small fears that hide in our subconscious and eventually we grow up and they are hardly recognized anymore, but they remain a part of us. The darkness has a way of seeping into our lives when we least expect it, and when it is most unwelcome. Some of us just carry more darkness along with us than others.

  Amber feels the darkness at her door, pushing it aside she welcomes the new day. She can hardly wait to make herself a cup of coffee this morning, she didn't make one for herself yesterday.

  How can she know she is good at it without testing it out on her own picky palate. Feeling a bit tired after the restlessness of the night, she hopes it does not show too heavily on her face.

  Wearing heavier make-up today than usual to hide the dark circles under her eyes and brighten her complexion, she wears jeans and a green tank that brings out the brightness of her eyes, making her feel more cheerful.

  Deciding to head out a bit early she enjoys some normalcy, sketching the nearby homes. The warm morning air is her favorite thing about the weather in this town, the smell of the earth as it warms up and the dewy feeling lingering in the air for just a little while.

  It all feels like life, the kiss of Mother Nature. There is something sacred and innocent about this part of the day.

  The birds and the butterflies sharing the morning hours with her flutter about, completely oblivious to her presence. She sketches a couple different species and wonders at the beauty of their colors and how they can spend their time so brilliantly out in the open without getting hurt.

  She wishes she could be like them, free to stand out and be seen without any fear or reservations. Free to fly from one beautiful flower to another tasting the sweetness of life. Surprised by the sound of a car horn, warning her of her precarious placement in the middle of the road, Amber notices how quickly time is passing.

  Focusing on her destination, she heads off to the store. Thinking about how wonderful simple pleasures can be when so much time has been lost hiding from the world. So much time buried beneath the darkness. The sun shining on her face feels like heaven after so many days hiding in the rain.

  A New Dawn

  Beginning the day with a disastrous attempt to make herself an espresso, her shot exploding, spewing coffee grounds everywhere, Amber feels totally off her game. Rissa laughing, says "Oh, I forgot to tell you, if you don't get it screwed on correctly that happens! Well, better to learn by experience. Here let me help you get that cleaned up." Amber frantically wipes down the machine and the counter and Rissa tells her, "hit the bathroom and wipe the coffee grounds off your face and arms. Luckily you didn't get any on your clothes."

  Amber returning to her station with a nervous smile finds a perfect white mocha waiting for her and a smiling Rissa trying to make her feel better. "Shit happens and when it does it often gets messy," she says with a wink and Amber knows she will enjoy working here. The girls are becoming closer every day and Amber is thinking she is where she belongs.

  James walks into his favorite coffee shop to get the guys a treat before they head out on another case, a car theft ring and a nasty little chop shop operation. They’ve been working it for a while and the arrest warrants are being served this afternoon. The guys are always a little worked up when they have fun business to attend to and today they will be full of excitement. He gets to the counter before noticing her. "Amber! Hi, it’s so good to see you! Are you working here?...Oh, I guess that’s kind of obvious isn't it."

  Giggling at his awkwardness she gives him one of those million-dollar smiles he is so fond of seeing. "Hey the
re," she says.

  "Sorry I didn't get a chance to call you last night, I had to work and didn't want to disturb you too late. No worries, I know dating a cop is a pain in the butt." He relaxes a bit and gives her his order. "One caramel latte sugar-free, non-fat; three regular mochas and one butterscotch white mocha."

  "So let me guess… You have a woman on the team that is watching her waistline and the rest of the guys are looking for as much caffeine and sugar as possible! We have a batch of fresh pastries as well if you really want to score brownie points with them."

  "Sounds great, give me half a dozen." He answers.

  "Can I recommend a non-fat yogurt parfait for your lady friend?"

  "Oh, thanks, that would probably be nice, since I know she won't eat the pastries." He wonders at her ease, she is not making a deal out of Joanna being on the team, most girls don't like knowing he works with a female and even act jealous as early as the first date. She isn't grilling him about her at all.

  Smiling at her, he pays for the goodies and tells her he will call her after the afternoon processing is done. She gives him the same 'its no big deal' wave he gave her on their first meeting and sends him on his way. This girl is really cool, he thinks to himself. How refreshing, and she can make coffee too.

  Does it get any better? And then his mind wanders to a place it should not be this early in the relationship. Oh, I’m sure it does get better he thinks to himself as he pictures her breasts straining at the fabric of her bathing suit and the soft curve of her hips. I'm quite sure it gets better. The throbbing between his legs startles him and he knows he better chill before he gets to the office.

  That could be embarrassing. Seeing her today is a fantastic surprise that puts his mind a bit more at ease. He’s happy to be having these feelings, but his nerves and police-trained subconscious tell him to slow down and be careful. He doesn't like feeling out of control of the situation...with her his control is slipping quickly.

  Amber is likewise excited and the smile on her face remains long after he takes his leave. She really likes spending time with him and loves the intense way he looks at her, almost like he is trying to figure her out. It’s a far cry better than men trying to undress her with their eyes, that is a completely different intensity and the creep factor just sticks to her. She knows he is different than the men she has known before, but still her intuition is screaming at her to take things slow, she is not ready to let go completely and let someone into her heart.

  He is still out there looking for her, and anyone she cares about can never truly be safe. A shiver runs down her spine and the room seems darker all of a sudden. The feeling passes quickly and life charges on.

  The morning flows smoothly and she is feeling comfortable with the machine when a young girl comes in looking for Rissa: "Tell her Dawn is here and really must see her." Amber heads to the back knocking on the door, Rissa immediately follows her to the front of the store.

  The two women hug and with serious faces disappear into the back room. I wonder what goes on back there, Amber thinks to herself. Time passes and she becomes more curious and the closed door seems specifically to keep her out. She knows those thoughts are just silly, there is no major conspiracy to keep secrets from her.

  The two women eventually come out of the room and Rissa introduces Amber to her friend Dawn, a spunky girl with colorful streaks in her dirty blonde hair. Amber notices that both of them wear the same pendant around their necks and she asks about the lovely twisted vines and serpents. Rissa explains, "we are of the same religious order, she’s part of my circle. Do you know much about Pagan groups?" Amber replies, "no." No further information is offered.

  The two women seem much less serious now as they ramble on about friends from the past and events Amber wishes she could have known. High school crushes, parties busted by the cops, adventures sneaking out all night and dancing naked by the lake around a campfire, it all sounds so youthful and free.

  Those were the years Amber spent hiding from her stepfather as much as possible and staying out of the way of those he called friends. Amber learned the hard way what love isn't and how badly it can bruise and break the weak and innocent. She learned to be smart and cold and to stay invisible, if not to them, then to herself. She wandered the worlds within her mind freely as they took what was never meant for them. She thinks how nice it could be to enjoy some of that girlish freedom now. "Why don't we plan a bonfire on the lake soon," Amber suggests with a smile and a bit of a blush, she let that rush past her lips without really thinking it through. The other two look at her and laugh. Sounds like a plan, a bonfire will be nice.

  Amber knows she missed out on much of what is normal for a girl her age, but she is learning to survive and that is much more valuable than any fun she might have had during her teenage years. She would not trade her strength and spirit for the pleasure of a few different memories.

  The girl says goodbye and Rissa spends the afternoon hanging out with Amber, chatting about all the great places to hang out and all the wonderful outdoor activities they can enjoy. Amber is becoming very attached to Rissa she is unlike any other girl she has ever known. They have so many interests in common. The day passes easily and Amber is excited to get home to begin packing up the library, so she can get a quote on turning it into a studio. She misses the feeling of hardwood beneath her feet and the rigorous bar work bringing the cleansing sweat out on her body. The focus and the exquisite freedom of getting lost in movement and rhythm. She really wants to dance.

  Opening the library door she finds the room is bigger than she remembers; there is ample space for her to create what she wants. The huge windows on one wall are balanced with a perfect wall to cover with mirrors; aside from the book shelves lining it, there is nothing to get in the way. She is thrilled and wonders where to put all of these beautiful books. She has no intention of getting rid of them, as she knows they are very special. Each one is old, leather-bound and completely dust free. Like everything else in her grandmother’s world, these books are special, and are here because each one has been well cared for and loved. She pulls a few volumes out and reads the covers. They are all classics, tales of gods and goddesses from a variety of cultures. As Amber explores further, she realizes this is entirely a collection of mythology, history, and occult books. There are a few with her grandmother’s name on the binding which appear to be journals or histories of some sort. She will have to take some time exploring these further. Perhaps it's not time to put them away yet after all.

  There is so much she does not know about her grandmother, she only met the woman a couple of times, but Aria recognized the trouble quickly and was the first person Amber had known to try and save her from her problems. The attempt to get her out of the house had come with a price, and Amber had been subjected to the most horrific beating and humiliation of her life. She ran away then, and even her grandmother had lost track of her as she faded into the streets of a new city, with a new name and a new life that was not so much different than what she had left, only she got to chose who she allowed to use her and at least they paid her for it.

  She thinks on the kind smile and gentle touch of the woman she barely knew. She remembers her soft hair and the twinkle in her eyes, beautiful blue eyes very much like her own. She remembers the smell of spices and jasmine on her skin when she hugged her, and she remembers the necklace. The curious circle of vines and serpents, she had asked about it and been told that it was a good luck charm, for protection, something to remind her of who she was. There had been a sadness in her eyes when she said those words, and then she had hugged Amber and said "don't worry child, you will be safe, I will find a way to keep you safe." For a few moments, Amber had felt safe. She had felt warm and loved. If only those feelings could have lasted.

  Rissa must have known her grandmother, Amber will have to ask her about it in the morning. She spends a long time in the library just touching the splendid volumes. These must be worth a fortune, they probably belong
in a museum or a real library, not in the back room of her house. Books somehow feel like comfort: the thick bindings and the crackle of the paper. The love and time spent creating them, and the knowledge they share. Amber learned early how useful knowledge can be. When you are a young girl making your way alone in the world, there is a heavy truth to the saying, knowledge is power. Men are easily manipulated by the helpless act, but when it comes down to it, helpless is dangerous and a girl has to know how to win the battle of wits and wills every time, or she finds herself hurt, or worse.

  It is late when James finally calls her. He sounds stressed and tired, but insists he is fine. This case must be wearing on him. She wants to know if he is working on the murder of the missing girl she had seen last night, but knows she should not ask. They spend a few minutes on small talk and she invites him over for dinner the next evening. He accepts and seems a bit happier by the end of their conversation. Neither wants to get off the phone, but exhaustion wins on his end and he reluctantly lets her go. "Sweet dreams," he whispers as he hangs up the phone, and so does she. Neither hears the gentle wish of the other, but the thought lingers between them.

  Under Lock and Key