Blood Haze

by L. R. Potter

  Blood Haze

  By LR Potter

  Copyright 2014 LR Potter

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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  For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror…

  Rainer Maria Rilke, Duino Elegies

  Prologue

  There was blood… so much blood. She was swimming in a sea of it. She could feel it flow over her skin, sticky and thick. Its metallic-smell made her stomach roil and it took all her effort not to gag. All around her were bodies, dozens and dozens of them. She remembered being a young girl at church and the preacher depicting the horror and carnage of the pits of hell. That’s what this was… hell. She expected to hear crying and gnashing of teeth, but she heard nothing but silence. The silence in itself made the scene that much more horrifying.

  She looked above her at the brass-ring from which her wrists were suspended. The bindings were so tight, her hands were nearly numb. Fear flowed over her, and she struggled to maintain her control. Her eyes darted around the macabre scene set out in front of her. A tiny shaft of hope pierced her chest. There was one who could save her. She struggled to see him in her mind, but he was like a ghost… a shadow… a mist. He swirled through her mind, and like tendrils of smoke, when she tried to capture his image, he slipped away. His piercing, dark eyes, the only clear part of him she could see, haunted her… taunted her even, as she struggled to capture his image.

  Arabella Marks jerked upright, her chest heaving, clutching the sheet tightly within her cold, trembling fingers. She struggled to suck much needed oxygen into her burning chest. Sweat coated her skin as fear ran its icy fingers down her spine. She sobbed and frantically glanced about the darkened room, searching for the bodies she’d seen. When she’d assured herself it’d only been a nightmare – the same nightmare she’d had time and time again, she lifted a trembling hand to her lips and muttered, “Thank God, thank God!” Indeed thankful it hadn’t been real this time. But by the blood running from her nose, she knew it would only be a matter of time.

  “Arabella?” a voice mumbled sleepily from the other side of the bed.

  “I’m okay, Drew. Go back to sleep,” she murmured quietly, as she drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them to comfort herself.

  Without answering, he rolled onto his side away from her. She stared at his outline, made shadowy by the night. The distance between them in the bed increased her unease. Lately, that vast expanse seemed to have invaded their lives in more areas than just here. She’d tried to ignore the distance, hoping it would just go away. But it felt like an ocean to her – vast, cold, and impenetrable.

  A small shiver ran through her. She was comfortable with him… comfortable, safe, and secure. But sometimes… sometimes, she felt as if some integral part of her was missing… as if she were just waiting for something… or someone. Her reoccurring glimpses of an elusive man didn’t help either. She could feel him, but his shadowy features were never revealed to her – just those piercing eyes. She never was sure what that meant. She shook her head at her own foolishness. Drew was good to her… was good for her.

  Would Drew be the one to save her when the time came? The image of those dark, piercing eyes once again floated across her mind and she shivered once again. No, she didn’t think so.

  Chapter 1

  The lights positioned above, bounced off the crystals attached to the figure-hugging, champagne-colored gown worn by the stunning woman standing on the stage below. Arabella Marks stood with her long fingers wrapped around the microphone stand in front of her. Her head was bowed, causing her long, dark, wavy styled-hair to float down past her breasts. Her eyes were closed as she waited for the music to take her away.

  The saxophone player, seated behind her, began to lob slow, sweet notes into the air and the music seemed to wrap its silky arms around the woman. She allowed it to swirl through her before opening her mouth to begin singing the sultry, bluezy song. Her voice was soft and slightly husky. She opened her vividly blue eyes and looked out at the tables surrounding the stage, even though the track lighting up above made it nearly impossible to see anyone in the audience.

  She moved her hips seductively to the music, as her crimson-coated lips hovered over the head of the microphone. She turned her back to the audience to face Tommy, the saxophone player, while he played a solo in the middle of the song. The deceptively demure dress she wore plunged drastically down the back, nearly revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the crease of her behind.

  She turned back toward the audience and continued to sing, moving smoothly off the stage, meandering through the room, going table to table. The men in the room wanted her - the women wanted to be her. She moved about without really seeing any one person. She’d perfected her act long ago. She returned to the stage as the song reached its crescendo. At the conclusion of the song, she took a step back from the microphone stand and allowed her head to once again bow demurely. The audience clapped enthusiastically as she dipped her head to them and smiled coyly in their direction before slipping from the stage.

  Lynx Rogan had sat up a little straighter in his seat when the sultry songstress had begun to sing. A voice like that and a body to match? Wow. He’d watched as she’d gyrated her hips on the stage and when she’d turned her bared back to the audience, he’d nearly come unglued. Her creamy, unblemished skin, which he knew encased the pulsating blood beneath, caused him to swallow the influx of saliva instantly generated in his mouth. He watched her move through the audience casually, never making eye contact… never really making a connection at all. He wanted that woman… and so, he would have her.

  Once she finished her set, Arabella made her way to the bar, being forced to stop and greet several patrons of the club. When she finally made it, she glided up on a barstool and placed her hand on Drew’s shoulder gaining his attention. He turned and smiled at her.

  “That was amazing, as always,” he said.

  “Thanks,” she replied, returning his smile. Happiness swirled around her at his presence. “What a pleasant surprise! I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”

  He gave her an uncomfortable smile and shrugged his shoulders. “I got off work early and decided to stop by. Can I get you a drink?” he asked.

  She tilted her head to one side, contemplating his odd behavior, before replying, “A glass of house red would be great.”

  As Drew, turned to flag the bartender, the older woman seated next to him, who he’d been conversing when she’d arrived, looked at her quizzically and slurred, “Don’t I know you?” The woman’s eyes squinted, in her intoxication.

  Instantly on guard, Arabella smiled politely nonetheless. “No, I don’t think so.”

  The woman’s brows furrowed as she struggled to place her. Arabella quickly glanced away, afraid of allowing the woman to dwell on how she might have known her.

  As she sat, uncomfortably waiting on her drink, the manager of the Night Owl Nightclub, and one of the few people she considered a friend, Karmyl Rogan, came around the other side of Arabella.

  “You never fail to wow me,” Karmyl said, as she wrapped her cool arms around her.

  “I’m glad you’re pleased,” she said with a smile, as she
took in the stylishly-dressed redhead.

  “And your dress is magnificent. You’d think your good taste would extend to your selection in men,” Karmyl said dryly.

  “I heard that,” Drew groused.

  “Well, if the dagger fits,” she replied before turning her attention back to Arabella.

  With mock sternness, Drew said, “Arabella Marks! You better defend me!”

  “I always do…” she began, before the older woman next to Drew interrupted.

  “That’s it! You’re Olivia Marks’s daughter, aren’t you?” the woman slurred.

  Fear lanced through her. She hated these types of confrontations. She gave the woman a small smile and a hesitant nod.

  Almost conspiringly, she leaned across the bar’s top and asked, “So, tell me, was she really psychic or the phony people said she was?” While her tone said she wasn’t actually trying to be insulting, her words still stung.

  Arabella tensed, not sure how to respond to the obviously drunk woman’s words. Before she could, however, Tobias, the bartender on duty, stepped in, “Ms. Langow, why don’t I call you a taxi?”

  “What?” Arabella heard the woman begin to protest before Karmyl placed a hand on her arm, effectively drawing her attention away from the protesting woman.

  Karmyl rolled her eyes in commiseration. “Before you run off, I have someone I want you to meet,” she said, as she tugged Arabella off the barstool.

  Arabella glanced quickly at Drew to see how the drunk woman’s words had affected him. He’d turned back to the bartender, his lips grim. He’d had to endure this type of thing right along with her for years. She wondered how long he’d be willing to continue to put up with it. She feared the day when he wouldn’t.

  “Who are you dragging me off to meet?” she finally asked.

  “It’s my brother, and as he is the owner of the club, he’s technically your boss. So be nice,” Karmyl replied.

  “But I thought he was, like, in South Africa or something?”

  “Yeah, he was, but now he’s back. I’m so excited,” she said as she clasped her hands together.”

  Arabella tapped Drew’s arm and motioned her intent as she allowed the beautiful redhead to drag her across the club. Karmyl guided them to one of the red leather, horseshoe-shaped, padded booths located in the rear of the club. As they gradually got closer, Arabella focused on the man Karmyl was taking her to meet. Seated in a booth was a man with dark wavy hair, longer than would be considered conventional. His dark, exotic looks reminded Arabella of a pirate or a warrior god. From what she could see, his physique was lean and trim, his jaw squared, and his lips full. He sat with one hand wrapped around the stem of a fluted glass. The physical beauty of the man caused Arabella to straighten her shoulders automatically, and a small flutter began low in her belly.

  Embarrassed by her own reaction to him, she looked away as they approached the table and didn’t glance back until Karmyl made the introductions and she was forced to. “Lynx, this Arabella Marks. Arabella… Lynx Rogan,” Karmyl said with a flourish.

  Slowly and leisurely, he slid his eyes up, from the tips of her tan stilettos and over the simmering curves of her body. Irritation settled into the pit of her stomach at his lecherous inspection of her. As insulted as she was by his behavior, she couldn’t contain the shiver as she’d seemed to feel the heated slide of his eyes over her. Her mouth opened to offer up a rebuke until his eyes finally found hers. She sucked in a breath involuntarily. She’d seen those eyes, had been haunted by them for a long time. That it was him, she had no doubt.

  “Arabella… what a beautiful name,” he murmured. His softly accented voice washed over her with such sensual pleasure, it nearly made her swoon, as her grandmother used to say. Her heart accelerated and her breathing quickened, as she was drawn into the fathomless depths of his nearly-black eyes. When she finally found her voice, inanely, she asked, breathlessly, “Have we met before?”

  His lips twisted wryly, “I think that’s supposed to be my line. But no, there’s no way I’d ever forget a meeting such as that,”

  She blushed as she realized she was still staring at him. As she obviously couldn’t say how she’d seen him before, she searched for something else to say. “Thank you. Are you happy to be home?”

  Lynx watched her eyes as he spoke, never breaking his connection, “I am. I’ve been gone far too long.”

  “I know Karmyl…” Arabella turned to where Karmyl had been only seconds before, only to find her gone. She turned her head slowly back to him. “I know your sister is happy to have you back.” Suddenly feeling awkward and wanting to be away from his overwhelming presence, and needing to think about what meeting him meant, she said, “It was very nice to meet you, Mr. Rogan. I’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of your evening.”

  As she turned to go, he said in his sexy-as-sin voice, “You sing beautifully. I don’t remember ever hearing anyone who moved me as much in a very long time.”

  She turned back to him and smiled modestly. “You’re too kind. Thank you.”

  “Won’t you join me?” he asked, staring at her intently.

  She shivered a little as a warm wash of an emotion she couldn’t readily identify, flowed over her from just the intensity of his stare. She shook her head and took a step back. What was wrong with her? You’d think she’d never been in the company of an attractive man before. But Lynx Rogan had an aura about him that seemed to draw her to him… would probably draw any woman to him. And those eyes… they both excited and scared her.

  “I… uh, I need to get back to… to uh… my date. Again, it was very nice to meet you,” she stammered, as she turned quickly and moved back to where Drew sat. Glancing toward the bar, she spotted Karmyl standing in the office door, smiling at her like the cat that’d swallowed the canary. Her lips tightened as she glowered at the redhead. While Drew wasn’t prone to jealousy, Arabella didn’t want to give him a reason to be so.

  “A fan?” Drew asked, as she slipped into the chair across from him.

  Arabella took a moment to straighten the wine glass on the table in front of her, needing a moment to gather her wits. She glanced up into Drew’s perfect green eyes. No matter what, Drew Larkin was considered quite the catch, with his blonde hair and jade-colored eyes. He was very vain about his body and spent a great deal of time in the gym. His natural good looks and charm made him excel as a real estate developer. “Not exactly. It was Karmyl’s brother, the owner of the Night Owl.

  Drew turned his head to study the man seated at the red horseshoe booth, before turning back to study her downturned face. “Hmm. Can’t seem to take his eyes off you,” he said with a smile, as he possessively brushed his fingers over her cheek.

  She blinked as the softly spoken words, laced with propriety, washed over her. She almost felt like a bone between two dogs. Drew was never jealous or possessive, so she was surprised at his tone. She didn’t have time to dwell on it, however, because as she leaned forward to question him, someone came up behind her and grabbed her shoulders.

  “Sorry I missed your set,” her brother, Ian, said from behind her.

  She looked over her shoulder at her younger brother, by two years. Her mother’s genes must have been really strong, as both she and Ian looked so much alike. He had the same dark hair color and crystal-blue eyes. He wore the top of his hair a little long, and constantly flipped it back with a quick toss of his head. Their only discernable difference was his complexion was more tanned, while her skin was decidedly paler.

  “I wondered if you’d show up tonight,” she said as he moved around to sit next to her.

  “I had something to take care of and it took me longer than I thought,” he said, in an evasive way. He gained the waitress’s attention and ordered a draft. “So, what’d I miss?” he asked, once he received his drink.

  She studied her brother as unease settled over her. Her brother was the baby and had been babied by them all. She knew she was as much to blame as anyone. “Nothing,
” she finally answered. “You’re not up to anything that would get you into more trouble are you?” she asked.

  He rolled his eyes at her and looked to Drew. “How do you put up with her,” he said.

  Used to their banter, Drew leaned toward her and covered her hand with one of his own. “Oh, she’s not so bad,” he said with a wink.

  At the touch of his fingers, a high-pitched whistle seemed to go off in her head. She blinked even more rapidly as she strove to cope with the noise. She glanced once more at Drew, then Ian, but they didn’t appear to hear the loud whistle. Black spots began to appear before her eyes until she was practically blind. Then like scenes on a TV, she began to see images as they flitted between her vision and the blackness just behind it. She saw flashes of a man’s hand as it snaked up a naked, feminine body. She could make out the interior of a car with black leather seats. With his lips, a man she couldn’t see clearly, made his way slowly up a woman’s neck. Arabella strained to make out the identity of the couple but the snatches of pictures she saw were fuzzy.

  Arabella’s vision jerked back to the dim light of the club when Drew shook her arm to gain her attention. She blinked rapidly once again and gave him a small smile. “Sorry. What?” she asked.

  With mild impatience, he withdrew the napkin from under his drink and handed it to her. “Your nose is running.”

  Embarrassed, she took the napkin, bowed her head, and pressed it against her nose. She wasn’t surprised to see blood staining the napkin. It was always what happened when she got what she termed a ‘glimpsing’ - not really a vision, but a mere glimpse of some future or past happening. “Sorry,” she murmured.

  “I thought you’d stopped having those,” he said, while glancing around to see if others had noticed.

  She gave him an apologetic shrug of her shoulders and pressed the cloth more firmly against her face. When the blood continued to run from her nose, she excused herself and strode quickly into the bathroom. Just inside the expansive bathroom, a ruby-red chaise lounge sat adjacent to a bank of sinks. She sat on its edge and leaned back until her head was laid against the cool marble wall behind her with the napkin pressed firmly against her nose. Her stomach roiled and she swallowed convulsively to quiet it. She concentrated on taking smooth even breaths to steady herself. It seemed no matter how many times she went through this, the sight of blood still made her queasy.