Bloodlines

by Powell, Jaime W.

  After an hour, I glance at the clock and see it’s just past eleven and my eyes are becoming heavy. Just one more hour. Only an hour and I’ll change forever. Even the questions that bothered me before seem irrelevant as sleep deprivation begins to set in. Soon my eyes are closing and I hear Micah’s voice from somewhere far off.

  “Yes, sleep for now. You will awaken the person you were always meant to be.”

  * * *

  “Arghhh! Ahh!” A pain hits my chest like no other pain before. It’s excruciating and I can’t stay quiet. From far away I hear my father’s voice and Silas’s behind the locked door. Silas is yelling my name and dad is yelling his. I hear the cracking sound of thunder from outside and glance through the window to find it open. Micah is standing at the foot of my bed, and I notice I’m somewhat higher than he is. Too high. I stare down to find my body is above the floor, even above the bed, pinned against the back wall.

  Lightning strikes, but before I can look away it strikes my chest. My whole body becomes alert and strained. Thunder rolls again and all I can think about is that lightning hitting me again. And so it does. Only this time the lightning spider webs into four strikes which hit my arms and legs.

  A bloodcurdling scream escapes my lungs. I glance to the clock to see it’s two minutes past midnight. I can’t climb down. My body is still pinned against the wall and elevated above everything in the room. This time I hear the roll of thunder even louder, as if the approaching storm is as close as it can come, and I worry where the lightning might strike me next, if at all.

  Before I’m able to consider what might hit me next, I see the flash of lightning in my eyes and suddenly an earth-shattering crack sounds, and lightning strikes onto me causing a great headache. Almost like a brain freeze, only one that burns. After the last strike, I feel my tensed body go limp. I can take no more.

  My head hangs and my stretched out arms fall back to my sides. My feet find the floor under them but don’t retain the strength to hold my weight. Suddenly, the thunderstorm which had been so loud and thunderous before has now ceased, and my head begins to feel dizzy.

  I drop to the floor with a thud. Micah is immediately at my side, lifting me into his arms and placing me atop the bed which holds many pillows and blankets. I sink into the softness with a kind of tired I have never felt before. I’m exhausted. Too tired to stand or even speak.

  I just lie there until morning comes and I can hear the birds chirping.

  * * *

  My eyes flutter open to find Micah and my father at my side. I sit up quickly, feeling stronger than I ever have before. I throw my arms around my father, though I’m not sure why. I just need to be held by someone who loves me, I guess.

  “Oh, Emma. It’s okay. Everything is fine now,” he says. “You did wonderfully. How do you feel?”

  I pull away from him and flinch my fists together, hearing my own knuckles pop as I do. “Strong.”

  He laughs. “Indeed, you are. The strongest of us all, I imagine.”

  I peer up to him. “Silas? Is he—”

  “He’s fine. I had to physically restrain him last night from coming in during the ceremony. He could hear your screams. That boy must truly love you. He sat outside the door with me the entire night while everyone else celebrated.

  “Celebrated?” I ask.

  “Well, while Silas and I were worried, they knew their Bellator was being born, in a sense. So, yes, they celebrated.”

  I laugh. “Typical,” I mutter under my breath.

  “I’ll send Silas in,” my father says, standing from his kneeling position. I hadn’t noticed until now, but Micah is still standing at the foot of my bed, observing.

  “Should I go?” he asks.

  I shake my head. “No, of course not. Stay with us. Stay with me.” He offers a nod.

  “Emma!” Silas calls out, collapsing on the bed with me and pulling me into a bear hug. “I could hear your screams. I thought something was trying to kill you.”

  “Maybe it was. Surely you have to die to be reborn, right?” I ask, looking more toward Micah for confirmation. Again, he nods.

  Silas sighs into my ear as our hug continues for the next several minutes. “I’m so glad you’re okay, and that you’re…you.”

  I laugh. “I’m definitely me, but I can feel my strength already. I’ve never felt so alive. My father was right. I was born for this purpose. You were right as well, you know. I feel like the leader I was born to be.

  I feel like I could do anything. My arms flex around him before our hug ends and we sit quietly on the bed.

  “Thank you, Micah,” Silas says. I’m almost certain this is the first time he has thanked Micah for anything.

  Micah offers a grin and nod before he speaks. “I must go now. I’m needed elsewhere.” And with that he fades into the light of day and my window closes at the same time. The sound doesn’t even make me jump, as I’m sure it would have in the past. It’s as though nothing at all scares me.

  “What happened in here?” Silas whispers, swiping the hair from my face and tucking it behind my ear. He rubs the back of his fingers on my cheek and I close my eyes.

  “I’m not sure. It all happened so fast. One moment I was sleeping and the next I was pinned against the wall, feeling extreme pain with every rumble of thunder and every jolt of lightning.

  “Thunder? Lightning? There was no storm last night, Emma.”

  My brows push together. “What are you talking about? No one could have missed that. Why do you think I was screaming?”

  His eyes open in surprise. “I didn’t know. That’s why I was trying so hard to get in. Your father stopped me, but I thought maybe my father had found his way in. Your dad assured me Micah was here and wouldn’t let any harm come to you. It’s the only thing that calmed me down.”

  I couldn’t believe he didn’t hear anything that was happening. Maybe that’s why the person must be alone during the ceremony. Too many people would interfere out of instinct and the process must be completed.

  “It’s good you weren’t allowed in. I’m glad you didn’t see it. I’m glad no one saw it actually,” I admit.

  “Except Micah, you mean,” Silas says with a slight scoff.

  “Micah knew not to interfere. It was good I had someone there who knew what was happening and watching over me. Even you thanked him.”

  “Emma, tell me the truth. Do you have feelings for Micah? Because I can sense his allegiance changing with each visit. Every time he is around I feel him drawing closer and closer to you.”

  My eyes fall. “Is it not enough that I choose you? Yes, Micah seems to have feelings for me. I care for him deeply as I would any one of my friends. But you are the one I love. You’re the one I want to be with. Isn’t that enough?”

  He stands from the bed, kneeling in front of me. “Is that the truth?” he asks.

  I take his face in my hands. “Every word.”

  Thirty

  A Game of Death

  I’m not sure what to expect when I open this door. I don’t ask Silas either. I’m sure whatever awaits me on the other side of this door is more than I can imagine. All eyes will be on me — something I’ve never been comfortable with.

  This time is different. I came into this room a mere girl, in love, perhaps foolishly, and I walk out a fierce warrior. The Bellator as they call me. I take a deep breath and I feel Silas place his hands on my shoulders to steady me — my knees still weak from the ceremony. At least that’s what they call it.

  All I know is I entered that room a fragile human, just as I entered this life. Only a human who is weak, ignorant, and who will stumble. But with the ceremony I’m no longer allowed to stumble. I must be strong — stronger than anyone else — and brave. So, I twist the doorknob, chin high in the air, and walk over the threshold, down the hallway, and into the bright living quarters where everyone stands.

  The Huntsmen are in ceremonial dress robes — maroon with golden trim. They consist of David, Rain, Mo
lly, even Bill, and my father, Christopher. All the Cambions, vampires, and the one demon create a half circle behind them: Kutz, Zeke, Jarion, Acrania, Obrum, and Malinus. Silas quickly joins them, and in three corners of the room stand our angels: Micah, Leahla, and Sebastian.

  As I suspected, everyone stares at me. Some with fear, others with pride, and a few with curiosity. I try to keep my face blank. If they knew what was going on inside my head they would call off the battle or seek out a more appropriate person to lead them. But between my bloodline and the twin pregnancy, there’s no doubt I am the one Silas and his brother have feared, while I’m the one the Huntsmen waited for, although they never knew it.

  “It’s time,” my father says. And somehow, I know what he means. The dress robes leave little in the way of wonder. They wish to induct me. But is this all still necessary?

  “Dad. Do you not see that an induction isn’t required? I am who I am. Besides, half of the inductors are not here, leaving us to fight this battle alone. What does it mean now to be inducted? Nothing.”

  “You’re right. You are who you are. You may be the Bellator to Silas and the others, but to us you are an inductee. So, please, place your hand on the Bible and let the induction begin.” In my father’s hands, he holds a Bible whose leather is torn and ripped in places from years of wear. The pages have been folded and unfolded and turned countless times. Around me everyone holds a single candle, and my brows pull together in question.

  “They each hold a candle. If the candle is lit, they agree with the induction. We don’t go forth unless they are all lit,” Molly says.

  “And the other Huntsmen? The ones who aren’t here?” I ask.

  “If they are not here, they can’t cast a vote. Only the people in this room matter now. And as you see, every candle is lit,” my father says.

  I swallow hard and peer around at all the faces. Silas gives me a wink, holding his own lit candle now. I lift my chin. “Then let us begin.”

  As if those words were the ones to seal our fate, a heavy gust of air blows into the room, blowing out the candles while everyone clings to the furniture, curtains, even one other to keep from falling. The house shakes with the force of a tornado, and I stare up at my father to find his eyes are large and he has dropped his most prized possession — his Bible.

  The wind and rumble become so fierce, I can no longer hear anything being said, though I see everyone’s mouth open in mid-holler. Silas meets my eyes and flies to my side of the room, grabbing onto me.

  “It has to be my father!” he yells in my ear. Then I hear a bone-chilling laugh echo through the room. And it becomes quiet once more. Only, there are more bodies with us now.

  “Eric, Alec, it seems we have interrupted the Ballator’s induction into the Huntsmen,” Damius announces with a clap of his hands. “Such a pity.” He circles me, and as he does, everything I’ve been told by my father rings true.

  I do wish to kill him. It’s taking everything out of me to let him this close to me. I know exactly what to do and I eye my daggers close by. “Oh, yes, the daggers,” he continues through his teeth. “Such a lovely gift. Only good for close combat, though. Although, you’ll have to catch us first,” he says before bellowing out another thunderous laugh.

  I fly to the table with the daggers and grab them up, one in each hand. They don’t seem as heavy as they once did. My newfound strength is painfully obvious. But when I turn back, the three demons are on the other side of the room, away from us all.

  “Silas, my son,” he says, dangling open his long arms. “You wouldn’t know it, of course, because you’ve been far too busy playing house with these humans, but these are your brothers.” My eyes widen at his words and I peer at Silas, who lifts his chin.

  “If they are here to harm someone, they are no brothers of mine. These are my brothers,” Silas says, pointing an arm toward Kutz and Zeke.

  Damius laughs to his self, as do Eric and Alec. “Maybe, but these brothers are from your own bloodline.”

  “Don’t listen to him, Silas,” Bill says. “Demons have no blood to speak of, and I happen to know your mother has died.”

  “Bill, is it?” Eric says, the smaller of the two sons. He is short but broad. He wears a leather jacket just as Damius’s other son, only his hair is cropped short, whereas Alec’s hair is long. What strikes me the most is their unmistakable features that mirror Silas’s. The black hair and glowing green eyes, specifically. “Bill, keep talking and you’ll be the first to die,” he croaks.

  Bill clutches his book to his chest and sinks back into the wall, trying to be as small as he can. Silas, on the other hand, hasn’t taken his eyes off the prime threat — his father. All I can think of is how lucky we all are that Simone isn’t here for this. Late last night she decided to visit her parents to give the future inductee — me — privacy.

  My father and the other Huntsmen have their weapons at the ready. Rain and Molly each have gold-plated hunting knives, while the men carry the cruder hatchets at the ready. The room falls quiet for a moment before Silas speaks again.

  “Father, what is it you want?”

  “What is it I want?” He laughs at the question before he quiets himself and points a long-nailed finger at me. “The Bellator. You give me the Bellator and the rest of you can go free.” My heart leaves my chest and travels down to my stomach. He’s known all along.

  “And what would you do to her?” Silas asks.

  “Son, we’re all better off without her here. You think once I’m not a threat anymore she will give you and your little friends a second look before killing you? You’re fooling yourselves.”

  “The only threat to anyone’s lives in this room is you three,” Silas states.

  “Three?” Damius asks. “Oh, there’s a few more of us than that.”

  With his words, black-cloaked figures fly into the room in attack mode. The first one at my side is a frightful sight. Green in color with a long, drooping nose that comes to a point. I get a good look at him while we are face to face. I jab my daggers at him and he blocks them accordingly. That is, until I move a bit quicker and do a double tap into his rib cage with the point of my right dagger, which pierces him, sending his body into a gross mass of fire.

  I shield my eyes from the blaze with my arm, but soon I’m pulled by another being wanting me dead. I allow myself a quick glance and it seems we are all under attack. There’s almost as many demons here as there are demon fighters. I catch a glimpse of Molly and Rain fighting one together, while Kutz and Zeke fight Eric and Alec.

  I glance around to find Damius, but all I see is another demon staring me in the face as I jab with precision at him and land a golden dagger into his neck, sending another to a fiery death.

  “Dad!” I call out, searching for him. I find him fighting his own demon, and I peek long enough to see his hatchet hack off the head of yet another. My face manages to twist into a manic grin. Everyone fights and continues to fight except for Bill, who clings to a Catholic rosary, praying in the corner and trying to be as small as possible.

  I start to roll my eyes but manage to remember that God is, in fact, on our side and a little prayer never hurt anyone. Just then a massive, cool breeze shoots through the room as Leahla grabs a demon from the floor and carries him up to the high ceiling, staring him in the eyes as she grasps his clock. With the death stare, the demon screams in pain and combusts into a ball of orange flames so bright I must look away.

  I hear another holler and see another fire which Rain and Molly stand over. I punch a dagger into another one of Damius’s followers and he is destroyed immediately. I peer back around to see Obrum has his teeth sunk deeply into the shoulder of another demon and his eyes burn red before that one, too, bursts into a fiery death. He has literally sucked the life force from the demon. Unbelievable.

  I turn quickly, spinning on my heel, and stab my dagger into another follower before jumping over his engulfed body and plowing my left dagger into another. It’s then I he
ar a pained scream. A woman’s scream. My eyes search the room, flying from one person to another until they rest on the body of a woman. It’s Molly, but clearly the scream came from Rain who witnessed his mother’s murder.

  I grab Rain and pull her away from Molly’s body and down the hall. “Go! Hide!” I yell to her before she quickly runs into my room, slamming the door behind her. But when I glance back, only one demon remains —Damius. He’s on top of Silas, and our people can’t kill him with a hatchet because they might hit Silas. I run and take a giant leap through the room, landing on Damius’s back, and jab both daggers between his shoulder blades, dragging him off of Silas as his body bursts into a flame and he screams in anger and pain.

  I collapse onto the floor, as do many of the others. Bill peeks up from his Bible he’s been reading from, and Rain comes rushing back into the room at the silence that has fallen upon it. She falls beside her mother’s body and whimpers.

  “Who killed Alec and Eric?” I ask, peering around at the piles of ash on the floor.

  My father’s eyes fall. And at my question everyone’s stare falls away from me. It’s obvious something has happened I didn’t notice.

  “Tell me. What is it?”

  “They saw you kill Damius,” Zeke says. “They fled.”

  I can’t believe it. All this hard work and preparing, and we let two of them escape. “How do we find them?”

  Zeke shakes his head. “There’s no finding them. Only them finding us.”

  “Bill?” I ask, hoping he can shine some light on how to search them down.

  “I’m afraid he’s right,” Bill stutters. “If they don’t want to be found, they won’t be. All we do is follow leads. Some pan out and some don’t. The ones that do are usually because the demons aren’t trying to hide out. After this, though, I suspect we won’t see them again. At least not for a while.”