Again Remy invaded the detective’s thoughts. Scouring them briefly, he came to the conclusion that the human planned on sticking around once he left the Manor. His suspicions grew and he didn’t believe that Veronica told the truth about Nathan.
Perfect. Just fucking perfect.
Detective Garrett pointed to the statues. “These are really beautiful. I don’t think I’ve seen anything like it before.” Just as he turned to walk away a creak coming from the stairs caught his attention. His eyes glanced to the balcony above. “Hello.”
Remy glanced up, surprised to see Hallie, descending down the stairs. In the time it took Veronica and himself to talk to the detective, she had gone to her room, changed, and placed her dreadlocks back into a neatly tight bun. Feeling the situation turning out of control, Remy communicated to Hallie in a loud telepathic scream. I TOLD YOU TO STAY HIDDEN!
Hallie ignored him. “We have company?” She reached the bottom step and walked toward the detective. She held out her hand. “I’m Hallie.”
“She’s our...adopted daughter.” A quick lie that didn’t curb the detective’s continued suspicions.
Detective Garrett nodded slowly.
A brief moment of silence filled the manor. From his peripheral, Remy saw Hallie’s eyes narrow in on the human. He read her mind, finding that her desire to feed tipped the Richter scale. She wanted the human above anything else. Remy saw it as their only chance to get rid of meddling detective once and for all.
“I’m not going to stop you,” he said to her as he took a step back.
Veronica picked up on his statement, but a little too late.
Without hesitation Hallie moved in and yanked Detective Garrett into the foyer. She heaved his body through the air, crashing into one of the Roman statues. Immediately, she threw herself on top of him and pinned both his arms to the ground.
Veronica screamed and Remy quickly placed one finger over her mouth. “Holy shit. I didn’t know you could scream so loud.” He smiled. “It’s sexy.”
“What is she doing?!”
“She’s doing what a Deamhan does.”
“Stop her!”
“No. It’s rude to interrupt a Deamhan in the middle of their meal.”
Hallie’s eyes turned black and she started to feed.
Remy watched her continue her attack as any Metusba would. She fed off the human’s psychic aura. It looked nothing like a Ramanga attack or even a Lamia attack. From a human’s view, Hallie looked to be out-muscling him when in fact her onslaught ravaged his body from the inside out. Remy glorified in her first human kill. It was like riding a bike. She knew what to do and when to stop.
As her own body absorbed her victim’s essence just by being in the same proximity, Detective Garrett’s body began to shrivel.
“Don’t feed too fast, you have enough time,” Remy said as he coached his new apprentice. “You don’t want to choke on your food.”
Detective Garrett continued to struggle but found Hallie too strong. His head fell back and his eyes fluttered until his body movements finally ceased.
Hallie leaned her head back and her face glowed. “Oh my God, he tasted so good.” She stood to her feet and stumbled slightly before catching her balance. “I can feel him.” She began to twirl around the foyer in a gleeful dance.
Veronica immediately slapped Remy across the face. He felt his right cheek burn with the imprint of her hand, yet he found it soothing. “What the hell were you thinking!” She looked at Remy in horror. “He’s a detective!”
“Now he’s a dead detective.” He knelt next to the body and he began to search the detective. He pulled out another card, reading over the gold lettering before stuffing it in his pocket. “Relax. No one will ever find out that he came here.” He stood up and looked to Hallie who still twirled around the room in absolute bliss. “Are you done?”
Hallie paused in her jubilation.
“Get rid of it.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Get rid of it,” Remy said again.
Confusion replaced her celebration. “I don’t know what to do with it?” She twiddled her fingers with her eyes locked onto the body. “Can I bury it in the backyard?”
“If you want.” Remy shrugged. “Personally I like to roast human remains in a pyre but we’re short a fire, here.”
1
DARK CURSE. DEAMHAN CHRONICLES #2
CHAPTER TWELVE
The dark area blocked Anastasia’s Deamhan vision. She lifted her head to sniff the air, taking in the scent of mold, water, and dirt. She closed her eyes and reopened them, suspecting that her eyesight would help her. Instead the dark blocked her vision, making it hard to penetrate.
She held her hands in front of her and took a step forward, feeling the sand underneath her bare feet. She took another step then another until she felt comfortable in her stride. A warm wind singed at her face, signaling that somewhere ahead in the dark, the area was opened. Her keen sense of hearing picked up on the faint sound of fire burning. Suddenly her hands bumped into a slimy rock cropping and she turned to the left and continued on her slow, weary stride.
She was dreaming again.
She didn’t want to wake, not yet. She needed to know what the dreams meant and why they became so frequent. While walking, she comprehended everything that occurred in the past few months, especially her newfound feelings of compassion and sorrow that spread through her like wildfire. It ate at her Deamhan emotions like an incurable disease, taking back every tendency that made her what she was. Ignoring her hunger for blood and her urge to protect humans, Veronica included, wasn’t what she envisioned when she promised Lucius that she’d protect Veronica at all costs. The promise wasn’t in her best interest but following Lucius’ and obeying him was. It didn’t matter if Lucius was a Lugat and he wasn’t her sire. Lucius saved her from herself, he put his faith and trust in her, and he made her ‘feel.’
These unfamiliar feelings became less and less frequent and she felt herself returning back to normal. Lucius had changed the game. No longer was he adamant about protecting Veronica. He cared about nothing except the Pure Ones. It was Them who he followed and worshipped.
She saw a flickering light ahead and she increased her pace until it brightened the area around her. She looked back, seeing the dark and also the algae blanketing the walls. She turned back, eying a room carved into the rock and she stepped in.
The walls turned into a smooth canvas, filled with stone etched pictures of rivers and animals. In the middle of this room, she saw a medium length golden sarcophagus sitting on top of a golden bier. She didn’t understand why it was there but she knew from the extravagant tomb that whoever lay in the sarcophagus was someone of importance and she had to open it.
Anastasia gripped the edge of the lid and she pulled back with all her strength. The lid budged and eventually slid off, landing on the dirt ground in a thud that echoed through the area. Her eyes glanced over the body of a woman with short jet-black hair, golden brown wrinkled skin, and full lips. She didn’t recognize the sleeping Deamhan woman but her caustic Ramanga scent saturated Anastasia’s nostrils, carrying the feeling of old age and power and she covered her nose. Even for a Deamhan, it was too strong to handle. Several small amulets sat on the Hibernating woman’s chest.
Anastasia reached for the amulet, feeling its smooth texture between her fingers. “Who are you?”
A gust of wind blew back Anastasia’s black hair and she felt pressure around her shoulders. The woman had raised her arm and had gripped Anastasia by the throat. She felt her teeth extend and she grasped onto the woman’s wrist, trying to free herself.
The woman slowly opened her eyes and Anastasia stared back at their red color. It was the second time she saw a Deamhan with red piercing eyes.
Anastasia awoke from her dream.
She blinked and waited for her senses to come back to her. She felt the cold wood on her back and when her vision finally cleared, she made out th
e smooth white ceiling. She lifted her body from the floor and stood to her feet. She couldn’t remember where she was or how she got there.
A flickering light slightly illuminated the adjoining room, revealing pools of blood, flesh, and dirt. Anastasia stepped into the area and before she had time to examine what she viewed as a display of carnage, dead Deamhan, she licked her lips, taking in the taste of dried blood on her mouth. Immediately she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and she felt the sticky fluid. Her hands were covered in it. It was caked beneath her fingernails.
“You’re awake,” a voice from the darkened corner of the room said to her.
She immediately recognized it as Lucius. “Where are we?” she asked.
He stepped out of the shadows, his forearms bloodied along with his loose dark clothing. “A sanctuary west of Minneapolis.” His eyes moved to his right then his left, then back to her. “You were wonderful.” He motioned for her to approach him.
She cautiously walked forward, stepping over the remains. She stopped just short of him and instead of embracing him with a hug, she continued to examine the area.
“The Deamhan put up an ineffective struggle,” he said.
“I was wonderful?” She questioned his comment. Only if she could remember what she’d done that was so wonderful. Nothing came back to her except for darkness. The last thing she remembered was Lucius slicing open his wrist to give her a drink before leaving Selene’s sanctuary.
Lucius placed his hands on her shoulders. “Yes.” He pointed to a pile of blood in the corner of the room. “That Deamhan was the leader in this sanctuary. You took him down with ease. These Deamhan need to be taught a thing or two about respect.”
She couldn’t argue with that. She too felt that the young Deamhan had no idea what it was like to live as a Deamhan, but these victims couldn’t have been that young. They had it easy this day and age and things were easier, unlike the time when she roamed the countryside with her sire. During that time, all Deamhan had to be on alert at all times and remain hidden. It was why Ancient Deamhan created The Dictum; so that could survive.
Secrecy is the key to our survival. The first rule repeated in her thoughts like a broken record. However, it wasn’t the only law that she now worried about.
Do not close your sanctuaries to Deamhan in need. Respect a sanctuary’s protective atmosphere. What she and Lucius did wasn’t respect. It was pure carnage.
“The laws need to be rewritten to maintain order,” Lucius replied to her thoughts. “Without that, we would run ourselves into extinction.”
“But you were one of the authors of The Dictum. Are you now saying that what you wrote doesn’t help us in this day and age?”
“They are outdated.” He walked toward the back area and he waved at Anastasia to follow him. “Come. I have to show you something.”
She slowly followed Lucius to the back of the home and into the kitchen. Before stepping into the room, she stopped and peered inside. Blood splotches covered the wall and pieces of flesh dangled from the light fixture on the ceiling. The doors were missing from the cupboards and a darkened spot on the floor marked the spot a stove used to be.
He opened the door leading to the basement. Immediately the smell of human blood carried in the air and into Anastasia’s nose. From the scent, Anastasia made out that the human was a malnourished male. Along with the smell, the blood also carried a scent of tart sweat and body odor. It wasn’t the type of blood that she would jump head over heels for, but blood was blood. Since joining Lucius, she couldn’t get enough of it.
In a swift movement, Lucius disappeared down the steps and returned, gripping the male by his arm. Their victim quivered in Lucius’ grasp and upon seeing Anastasia, his eyes widened and his mouth trembled.
“You need to feed. You need your strength.” Lucius pushed the human toward her.
She stepped back and the human, completely naked, fell to the dirty floor. “But I thought I got what I needed when I fed from you?”
“The Pure blood running through your veins needs more nourishment.”
She felt her fangs drop slowly at the sight of her potential next meal. However, something inside her began to question Lucius’ true motives. Catching herself she turned her thoughts to blood. She didn’t want him to know she had doubted his intentions for the first time in centuries.
“He’s filthy,” she replied. “He isn’t what I prefer.”
His eyes slowly turned dark and his voice deepened. “Feed. Now.”
Without further question, she lifted the male to his feet, tilted his head to the side, and she bit into his neck. She sucked as fast and as hard as she could until she heard his heartbeat slow. Before it stopped she pulled back and watched her meal die in her grasp.
She dropped the body to the ground and she licked her lips. The blood traveled through her veins and she felt it reenergizing her body. Her muscles grew stronger and her body, younger. She felt ready for anything.
“I think it’s time to show you.”
She felt the blood warm her body. “Show me what?”
He folded his arms across his chest. “What I’ve been keeping from you.”
****
The front doors of the warehouse were wide open and they walked in. Anastasia immediately recognized the area as Ollie’s warehouse.
She’d never been there before but she heard about the place and she knew enough about Ollie than she cared to know. Ollie, a known dealer of drugs and Sensual Appetite, stored his supplies at the warehouse. Once a powerful dealer in the Deamhan world and a supporter of Kei, his business went downhill when Selene dethroned Kei and Lucius escaped from Limbo. Anastasia didn’t know what happened to Ollie. She heard that he skipped town. She swore to herself that if she did find him, she’d gut him like she would a fish.
Near the back she saw several boxes stacked against the wall and several machines forming an assembly line to their right and to their left, moving together in unison while human workers assembled machinery parts and other objects that didn’t seem to bother Lucius as he walked past. They glanced at her then continued their work. Near the back, standing next to an elevator door, she saw Selene’s minion, Jessica, waiting for them.
“You allow the humans to still work here?” She questioned.
“They have no idea what’s in the basement. Their presence doesn’t bother me, not like the Deamhan who supported Kei,” he said. “The sanctuary we came from is just one of many new sanctuaries still devoted to Kei in this state.”
“But I’ve destroyed many of them, like you asked.”
“Yes, but for one that you destroy, three pop up to fill its place. While some Deamhan flee the city there are others who have come here to challenge us. They believe that what we’re doing is wrong.”
She followed Lucius into the small and confined elevator. Before the doors closed, Jessica looked to them, flashing a smile. The metal doors closed. “Where are we going?”
“Earlier you wanted to know what happened to Kei. I will show you.”
The elevator shook and it began its descent, traveling a few floors down until it reached the basement. The ripe air carried the aged scents of Deamhan. The metal doors slowly opened. Jessica stepped out of the elevator first and she stood to the side, watching Lucius exit. The ceiling of the room towered several feet above. A long and wide hallway with grated walkway greeted Anastasia as she stepped out of the elevator. Four cages to the left and four cages to the right lined against the concrete walls.
The first cages on both sides were empty, but as Anastasia slowly walked along the walkway, she saw a male with short, spiky brown hair in a cage on her right. His wrists and ankles were handcuffed with both arms raised above his head, which drooped forward, hiding his face. Near the bottom of the cage, written in crude black letters she saw the words ‘Lamia.’
“What’s this?” She turned to look at Lucius.
“These Deamhan have information about Kyra.”
&
nbsp; Her mind turned to Silvanus and how Lucius killed him. She looked at the Lamia who lifted his head briefly, looking back at her with dark, piercing eyes. It wasn’t like Lucius to hold Deamhan prisoner but then again, the Lucius she know new wasn’t the same Lucius from her past.
She continued forward, her mouth ajar and she scanned the cages from left to right. She didn’t know how to absorb what she saw. The cages were spread out, running into the distance. Surprisingly, the next two cages on her left stood empty, but on her right, following the cage that held the Lamia, she saw a light-skinned male, completely naked and curled up in a fetal position with his eyes closed. The writing on the cage revealed the male to be a Metusba.
The last cage on her left contained another male who stood to his feet and he began to bang on the glass. The face of the Ramanga Deamhan exposed shriveled veins just underneath his furrowed skin. He looked back at her with half opened eyes and scratched at the glass, whispering, “Help me.”
“This one is about to die.”
Lucius walked over to her and immediately the Deamhan jerked his body forward, snapping and growling at him. Anastasia moved back, her eyes fully concentrated on his sharp and pointed fangs. She watched him struggle in his enclosed environment, but as quickly as it began, it ended. Tired and worn, the Deamhan lowered his head in defeat.
“This one came to avenge Silvanus’ death.”
“I still don’t understand why you killed him.” Anastasia examined the cage’s metal holdings. “Silvanus was loyal. He respected you. He came to Minneapolis to help Selene free you from Limbo.”
“He was a servant of Kyra’s for millennia. He knew where to find her. He just refused to tell us.”
Suddenly a female voice reverberated from the back of the room. “You decided it was time to finally show her?” Selene appeared out from the darkness, wearing a black leather jacket and a long, bright red dress.
Dark Curse (Deamhan Chronicles Book 2) Page 14
