Scorned

by Tyffani Clark Kemp

  “I don’t like it either,” Pierce agreed.

  “I’m having tics too,” I said. “I don’t like that either.”

  “Maybe it’s the vampires,” he said.

  “I know it is. My body doesn’t like them. I don’t like them.”

  Pierce smiled.

  “I’m hungry.”

  He laughed. “Me too.”

  “You’re always hungry.”

  “You lost a lot of blood last night.”

  I nodded. I hadn’t thought about that. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

  “No,” he answered. “My girlfriend was running for her life.”

  I smiled. “How kind of you to care.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  I woke to the sound of a ringing phone and shivered. It was too cold in my aunt’s house and I wished she’d just bite the bullet and turn the heat up. I snuggled closer to Pierce and pressed my cold nose into his bare chest.

  “Stop,” he mumbled and tried to pull away.

  “Sorry, I won’t do it again.”

  “LeKrista,” My aunt called through the door. “The phone is for you, sweetheart. Someone sounds like she’s in a great deal of distress.”

  I got up and went to the door, opening it just enough to get the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “LeKrista!” a young voice shouted from the other end. “LeKrista! I’m in labor! Pierce’s phone is off and I couldn’t get through on yours!”

  “Petrice?” And then it hit me. “Pierce, Petrice is in labor and your phone is off!” I was already throwing on clothes. “Do we need to get you?”

  “Noooo!” she howled through a contraction and I listened to her breathe for a moment. “I’m already at the hospital! Hurry!”

  “We’re on our way.” I hung up. “She’s already at the hospital. You want me to drive?”

  “Yeah,” Pierce answered.

  I threw on my heavy jacket before we walked out the door and sped toward the hospital, some forty-five minutes away. I made it in twenty and we were sent up to the room with best wishes from the nurses. We found Petrice lying in bed, her head back and her eyes closed, still very pregnant.

  Gable stopped us at the door. “Her blood pressure went way up right after she hung up with you and had a seizure,” he said in a barely audible whisper. “They’re saying it will have to be a C-section. She’s asking for LeKrista. You have to keep your voice low, or she could have another seizure.”

  “Oh.”

  They’d turned the TV off in the room because the movement on the screen caused seizures too. Petrice looked pitiful, and it made me want to cry. Someone had brushed her hair and put it up in a ponytail on the very top of her head. It looked silly, but I knew it was more comfortable than lying on a knot.

  “Hey,” I said so soft it was almost a whisper. “How are you?”

  Petrice opened her eyes and rolled her head to look at me. “I’m about to have my baby,” she said, “but they have to cut it out of me.”

  She was trying to make a joke, but it wasn’t working very well. I smiled anyway. “You’ll be alright. I promise.”

  She nodded gently so as not to move her head too much. “I’m scared, LeKrista.”

  “I know. It’s going to be okay. I promise. Pierce and Gable and I are going to be here the entire time, we’re not going anywhere. We’ll be right here when you get out. And, when you do get out, there will be one extra little person waiting to see you when you wake up.”

  Petrice smiled. “I hope it’s a boy.”

  I smiled back at her. “Me too.” The nurses came to get her, and Pierce and I backed away from the bed so she could be wheeled out. We watched them wheel her down the hall and went to sit in the waiting room. There was only one other person there and her burgundy hair was unmistakable.

  “Tate?”

  She turned and grinned. “Hi. Roman sent me. You must be Pierce.” They shook hands and Tate put her arm across my shoulders. “I have someone you need to meet. We’ll just be about little while,” she told Pierce.

  I followed her to the elevator and asked, “Where are we going?”

  “There’s a wellness garden somewhere on the grounds.”

  “Somewhere? You don’t know where?”

  Tate shrugged. “I’ve asked four different people and got four different sets of directions.” She laughed. “We’ll find it.”

  We wandered for twenty minutes, but found no sign of a wellness garden.

  “Maybe we should just go back upstairs,” I said as my phone rang. It was Pierce. “Hey.” There was nothing but static on the other end. “Pierce? I can’t hear you.”

  “Oh! Jell-O!” Tate disappeared around a corner as I contorted to try and get better reception.

  “Hello? Pierce?” But he was gone. He’d hung up and now I was alone. I went around the corner to find Tate, but she wasn’t there. What a weird girl to run off after some sick person’s Jell-O. I walked down the hall until I ran into a door that required a code, so I turned around. After a few moments of wandering, I decided I was lost. I was in a wing of the hospital that I didn’t even know the name of. For all I knew, I could be in the “Highly Contagious Ward”. I followed the hall, hoping it would take me somewhere. Normally, there were signs all over giving directions. Not today. Not in this wing.

  The hall came to a dead end.

  Great. Just great. Where the hell did Tate go? If this is some kind of practical joke, it is so not funny!

  I grumbled and went back the way I’d come, but none of it looked familiar. Perfect.

  I heard footsteps behind me and turned. The hall was empty three seconds ago. How could there be someone behind me? My mind went immediately to vampires, but it was the middle of the day. Of course, Roman had been up during the day, but then it was very overcast and rainy. Today was particularly sunshiny.

  I kept going, hoping the sound was just gravity working on some inconsequential piece of something. Something had just fallen off a shelf, or a nurse had crossed the hall. That, of course, made me think of shadowy figures stalking and killing unsuspecting victims.

  Then I remembered that an entire wing of the hospital had been shut down for maintenance. The part of the hospital that housed the wellness garden and a very lovely fish pond. I remembered the pictures from the news.

  Heavy footfalls behind me made me jump and I stepped up my pace until I was nearly at a run. I rounded a corner and pulled up short. Plastic curtains blocked the hall to contain the construction. Fear thundered in my veins. I knew someone was following me but I couldn’t think of anyone who’d be out this time of day. I turned and went back. I tried a few doors until I found one with a red “exit” sign above it. I pushed on the bar and stumbled out into the sunlight.

  The sun was bright and warm, even on such a cold day. I tilted my face up as the door clanged shut behind me and let my face bathe in the warmth for a moment. I looked around. I’d found the wellness garden, but it was anything but beautiful. Both the construction and neglect had turned it into something of the past. In the center was the pond where fish had once swam. Now they were turned belly up, the water murky and rank with the stench of death.

  “It’s a shame isn’t it?”

  I jumped and spun at the soft feminine voice and looked up to see a woman with chestnut hair nestled under a tree hung with long strings of stones and gems and crystals that nearly touched the ground and created a shining curtain around her. The sun hit each gem and cast colorful prisms about her face. She sat in the lotus position, but I noticed her hands were placed palm down in round spots of dirt.

  “People think it doesn’t matter. Let the stupid fish die. We can just replace them with more.” She was quiet for a moment and shrugged. “I guess it’s true. I’m Miranda. Come have a seat. Where’s Tate?” There was a sweet, earthy tone to her voice that reminded me of the smell of dirt after a summer rain and the green smell of fresh cut grass.

  “She ran off after some Jell-O and disappe
ared.” The tree was like something out of a fairytale or a hippie movie and there was something about the look of it that my soul liked. I brushed a string of crystal beads aside. Something moved through it as I did. It didn’t feel like power. Actually, if felt like life. Something was alive inside those beads. I pulled back and looked at it.

  “Don’t worry,” she told me. “I felt it too. It was just recognizing you. Don’t even think about it. Come sit in front of me.”

  “What was recognizing me?”

  Miranda didn’t answer. Her eyes were closed, her hands palm down in the dirt just barely touching. There was an electric energy to this little circle she’d created around the tree. I felt it give me energy, empowering me, and I knew I could stay awake all day if I had to.

  “Don’t let the power fool you,” she said. “It can trick you into thinking you don’t need the basic necessities of life, and, while it strengthens it also weakens.” She opened her eyes and I saw her power there, a golden earth glow that warmed her eyes.

  “Give me your hands.” I gave my hands to her, palm up. She placed her palms on mine. “As with anything, there are the two ever struggling classifications of good and bad among mages,” she told me, “but, beyond that, it’s broken down into fours. We are called Elementals, or Elemental Mages. We pull our strength from the four elements; earth, fire, water, and air. Understand?”

  I nodded. It didn’t seem too complicated so far. Our hands were still palm to palm, the air was still strangely electrified, and I felt good, like I’d slept all night, but now I felt that underlying tiredness, hidden by whatever magic was in this circle. I didn’t know how much I liked that magic.

  “The elements contain what is called manna, what fuels our power. That’s what you feel within this circle. It’s like a bioelectricity powering everything. There are different ways of explaining it, depending on how you believe the universe was created.”

  Again I nodded, because that made sense. I believed in Creation; one God, seven days, and the earth created from nothing. I don’t know what Miranda or Tate, or even Lady Xiomara believed but I didn’t think it was relevant to what we were doing.

  “An example,” Miranda continued. “I am an earth mage, but I can only pull power from dirt and sand and from stones that you would find on dry land. Rock salt, as opposed to sea salt. Some earth mages can pull their manna from trees and flowers, from animals and even from people, though those mages are very powerful and always teetering on the line between good and bad.”

  Sounds pretty sane so far.

  “I’m going to show you your power,” Miranda said. “I’ll show you mine first, so you can see what it feels like, and then we’ll see what kind of mage you would be if you accepted your power. This doesn’t mean that you’ll be a mage or that you’ll even be able to use any of your power. That is a door, that once is opened it cannot be closed. This is more like peeking in a window to see what’s going on. Okay?”

  I nodded, not really sure if it was okay.

  “I can feel your hesitation,” Miranda said. “You have a very loud soul.”

  I frowned. “What?”

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s okay.”

  She tilted her head back a little, and closed her eyes. Our palms were still touching, and I started to feel a little cold.

  I felt Miranda’s power the moment she opened it up to me. It was like she literally opened a door and I walked right through it, but it wasn’t what I’d expected. I’d always expected magic, if it was real, to feel tingly like the effects that they used in movies but that wasn't what I felt. This was like a heavy weight had been unloaded into my hands. I wiggled my fingers and felt earth, moist soil, and I smelled wet dirt. I breathed in and choked on it. There was dirt in my lungs. I felt it press on me, weigh me down, suffocate me. I wasn’t breathing, but I wasn’t panicking. I was calm. I was dying and I was calm.

  “LeKrista?” I opened my eyes. Miranda was staring at me with a look of mixed concern and confusion. “Are you alright?”

  I nodded and looked around. Her palms were no longer on mine, but I still had mine face up, resting on my folded knees. The electricity was in the circle, but that suffocating weight was gone completely.

  “What did it feel like to you?” Miranda asked.

  “Like being buried alive,” I answered. “I smelled wet soil and I could feel it in my lungs, under my hands.”

  Miranda scowled and I thought I might have said something to offend her.

  “That’s not right,” she finally said after a moment. “I think I know why you felt that, but let’s just make sure. If it’s true, then...” she let the sentence drop, but I wasn’t going to let her get off that easy.

  “Then what?” I asked, but she just shook her head.

  “Palms up,” she said.

  I did as requested but with more hesitation than the first time. If Miranda noticed, she didn’t care. She placed her palms over mine, but not touching this time.

  “You’re going to feel a slight tugging,” she said. “In essence, I’m pulling your power from you. It might feel a little funny, but it won’t hurt.” She closed her eyes, and I did the same. Mostly to fight the panic of being buried alive again.

  This magic was different. I felt a wind pick up around us. It smelled of Autumn and I could see the colors of red, yellow, and orange leaves swirling around us, though it was too cold for that and far too early in the year. The wind stayed mild, swirling around us until Miranda pulled her hands away and looked at me.

  “Wind,” she said. “Wind would be your manna.”

  I frowned.

  “What are you thinking?” Miranda asked.

  “I don’t know,” I told her, and tucked my hands in my lap. “I just...this is all against everything I’ve ever believed, or been taught to believe.”

  Miranda nodded. “I understand. Like I said, there’s no obligation to become a mage. Lady Xiomara would have you believe that if you have the power you must use it, but that’s not the case. Tate has opted not to cultivate her power because it would put her off limits to the vampires. Mages are the enemy to vampires.”

  “I just...I don’t know that I want to be...this.” I motioned to the tree with its beautiful ornaments.

  “I understand, but know that not every mage is so...new age,” she said with a smile. “This is how I control my magic. How I keep it from controlling me. I’m not the strongest mage, not by far, but I am very powerful. Gavlin is a war mage, kind of different from the rest of us, but he’s very strong. He pulls his manna from the weather and he controls his magic by channeling it all into his battleaxe when he’s not using it. Don’t let this deter you,” she said, motioning like I had, “but if it goes against what you believe, it’s not for you.”

  I nodded.

  “Ready to go back inside?”

  I nodded again and we stood as one. I brushed the dirt from my clothes. “What about your baubles?” I asked.

  “I’ll get them later or maybe donate them if they get the garden fixed.”

  Tate sat next to Pierce getting chewed out by the sexy blonde, fur-laden man who’d sat next to Xiomara in the cave. Today he was dressed in loose blue jeans and a thin, long-sleeved sweater. It also hung loose on his frame, but there was no hiding how muscle-bound he was. I guessed this to be Gavlin. He turned ice blue eyes to me and I was struck by how tall he was.

  “See?” Tate insisted, defiantly. “I told you she was fine.”

  “There’s no room for guessing here, Tate.” Gavlin’s deep voice was admonishing, but not angry. “She’s in danger. You have to be more vigilant.”

  Miranda scoffed and her whole demeanor changed. The sweet woman I’d spent the last few minutes with was replaced by what can only be described as an annoyed older sister. I caught a good glimpse of what their relationship was like. These three were like family - Gavlin the older brother, Tate the little sister, and Miranda the mother hen.”

  “Vigilant and Tate don’t go in the sa
me sentence.”

  “Miranda, we need to talk.”

  Gavlin took her by the hand and led her down the hall until we were out of earshot.

  “That doesn’t sound good,” I said softly and Tate shook her head.

  We watched like nosey neighbors, peeping toms, whatever you want to call it. Gavlin said something to Miranda and the news hit her like a fist. She doubled over at the waist, and I heard her sobs from where I stood next to Pierce. Tate needed no other prompting. She flew down the hall and gathered her friend in her arms before I had a chance to grab Pierce’s hand and squeeze it, hard. He squeezed back and we sat down to wait. I huddled against Pierce and hoped it wasn’t a foreshadowing of what was to come for us.

  Forty minutes after she went into surgery, Petrice and the baby came out fine. Pierce and I sat in the room with Gable and waited for Petrice to come around. We had to keep the TV off and our voices down, but the girl came through perfectly fine. The moment she woke up, she asked to see her baby, who was asleep in the crib.

  “It’s a boy!” she said with glee as we put the baby in her arms. “Anthony Joseph Wisely.”

  I smiled. Little Anthony’s face was beautiful, small and cherub-like. He was almost five pounds, but very short and chubby. When he looked up at his mother, we took in a collective gasp at his grey eyes.

  I looked at Pierce and smiled. “I want a baby.” He looked at me, really looked to see if I was serious. When he saw that I was, he smiled, kissed me on the mouth, and pulled me tight against him.

  We stayed at the hospital that night. They wouldn’t let Petrice breast feed. They said it would put too much stress on her body for now. That upset Petrice and her crying started another seizure.

  I eventually joined Miranda, Tate, and Gavlin in the waiting room and handed Miranda my phone with a picture of Anthony on the screen. “Anthony Joseph,” I said. Miranda looked up at me, shock in her face.

  “Anthony?” she asked, her voice a horse whisper as if she might cry again.

  “Was that the name of your friend? Anthony?” Miranda nodded. “We traded,” I said and she looked at me, nodded, and a small smile lit her face just a little.