"James?" I questioned, my eyes already begun to close again.
"Hey, Crim. You have to stop sleeping on the couch. It's bad for you."
"Hmm," I replied, unsure what he'd just said. I relaxed in his hold, resting my head against his chest. His heartbeat was so calming, making me fall back to sleep in seconds.
I woke up to James' loud voice. I quickly sat up, glancing around my room in a panic, wondering if we were being attacked or robbed.
I was in my bed, in a simple black t-shirt. I didn't remember taking my shorts or tank top off after painting earlier today, which gave me the hint that James had changed me and put me to bed. I'd been painting for ten hours straight, since I couldn’t fall asleep after our argument.
I shuffled to the edge of the bed, swinging my legs over and taking a moment to rub the sleep from my eyes. I glanced over at my clock on my nightstand.
"Four in the fucking morning? Why is he shouting?" I groaned, standing up and heading out of my room and into the living room.
"You MUST be fucking pranking me right now. That's impossible. She's the strongest mage of all time! Do a fucking autopsy. My father and the Council are already making their way there," James hissed, pacing back and forth.
I leaned against the wall, crossing my arms as I waited for him to finish. My mind was still in a sleepy daze and I didn't understand what he was ranting about.
"I'll be there. Where are her lovers? Okay. Find that fucking murdering thief and ensure you get that pocket watch! If it gets into the wrong hands, we're gonna be in big trouble. Got it? Okay, bye." He hung up and took a deep breath. He glanced over to where I stood; his eyes went wide before he gave me a sympathetic look.
"Sorry, Crim. Did I wake you?" He walked over to me.
"Yeah. You okay? Family trouble?" I inquired.
He shook his head, pulling me into a hug. I blinked, confused as to why he was suddenly being affectionate.
"James? What's wrong, baby?" I asked, returning his embrace.
"I just need to hold you for a moment," he whispered, pressing a kiss to my neck. He tightened his hold around me and we stood in silence for a bit. It felt as if this was the last time we'd see each other, which was beginning to freak me out.
“James, what's going on? You're worrying me."
He pulled back, looking me straight me in the eye. "Storm Yuna is dead. She was murdered last night."
"Crimson, you don't look well."
"I'll be okay, James. You know this always happens when I have to see my parents for family dinner. Let’s just get this over with so we can go for drinks after; that will calm down my anxiety." I brushed his concern away, running my hand through my short hair.
The last five days had been the most stressed I'd seen James in weeks. It wasn’t like I blamed him. The entire country was in mourning and the tension that pulsed through the streets was palpable. Storm Yuna had been murdered and now her pocket watch that contained both her magical essence and familiar was missing. The culprit had yet to be identified, but he or she was likely part of an organization that had been causing disturbances around the world.
I didn't know much of the details and James was too rattled to tell me anything more. I'd kept myself busy with my artwork and daily runs, since sword dance training was canceled for the entire week and James was barely around. The last four days, he had slept at his family house and had finally come home today, which was also the day I had to deal with my family during dinner at the shrine.
With everything that had happened and with no leads or clues to the murderer who was apparently strong enough to kill the most powerful mage of our time, I could guarantee my father wouldn't be in a good mood. No, he'd be in a foul state and take his frustration out on me through insults.
I wanted to cancel or make some excuse, but I knew he'd only use it against me and I did miss my mother's cooking. But now that dinner was only seven hours away, I felt sick to my stomach and I was struggling to stay conscious. I just needed to convince James I was fine until he went out for food so I could lay down and pretend I fell asleep on the couch.
I was currently in the living room, trying to distract myself with working on some of my recent commissions, but I had been staring at the blank canvas for fifty minutes and hadn’t drawn a single stroke. That only happened when I was sick or extremely anxious and James knew it.
"Why don't you take a break? You've been staring at your canvas for almost an hour and I know you don't get artist block unless you're nervous or unwell." James' words echoed my thoughts.
I bit my lip and sighed, allowing my tense shoulders to relax.
"Fine," I whispered, placing my brush and palette of acrylic colors onto the high table stand I'd positioned next to the 24” X 36” canvas. I let my hands run through my hair for what seemed to be the twentieth time, feeling hot yet somehow also winded, as if I'd just run a marathon. I closed my eyes for a second, feeling my heart pulse as if something was tugging at it. A pair of swords that reminded me of the ones I used to idolize when I was younger suddenly came to my mind.
My dad's sacred treasure was a pair of twin blades. They always used to remind me of Yin and Yang when I was younger. Maybe that's what had inspired me to learn sword dancing, but nevertheless, they were one of the few weapons Dad always kept in his office. They were extremely powerful and would have been his first choice of weapon if he ever had to go to battle.
Because I wasn't a shifter, my right to inherit them had been revoked. In fact, I hadn't received anything on my eighteenth birthday like most shifters did when they reached adulthood.
It was tradition to give your child a weapon that would help them fulfill their purpose in this world. James even had his own, a magic orb that practically tripled his magical aura and powers. He always carried it with him, but could also summon it upon command if he had to.
I could still remember how depressed I was when I hadn't received one; Dad and the rest of the Council agreed I wasn't worthy of such a privilege.
I tried to open my eyes again, but they felt weighted with bricks and I swayed on my feet, before falling backward.
"Fuck! Crim!" I heard James curse and I felt arms catch me in time before I hit the ground. I tried to respond, but my mind drifted away, until there was nothing but darkness.
Dreams.
Vivid images that flowed through your mind. Some were just images created by the imagination, while others showed images of what I sometimes wished the future would bring. They worked in riddles, confusing the dreamer with different messages, some easy to discover and understand, and others that made no sense whatsoever.
I always tried to remember as much detail from my dreams as possible, regardless if they were a simple memory or a detailed, unreal adventure.
This particular dream came in the form of images, running through my mind like I was watching an oversized theatre screen.
A beautiful fox that reminded me of Mother emerged before me. A Kitsune maybe? I couldn't really tell. Her bright pink eyes stared at me while her pure white tails waved back and forth. I wanted to reach out and pet her, to figure out who she belonged to, but then she began to fade. The only thing I remembered was her sad looking eyes.
The next dream took place during a blizzard. In front of me was a large cliff, something impossible for me to climb during the harsh snowstorm that beat my skin. I felt so cold, wrapping my arms around myself in an attempt to insulate the heat that escaped me with each passing second. I couldn’t stay here any longer or I would die. But how would I get up there? What could I do? The image faded before I could make a final decision.
Finally, a woman's silhouette appeared before me. I don't know why I knew she was beautiful and powerful, but my mind imagined her that way. I knew my thoughts were playing with me, making up an image to make me feel less confused as Storm Yuna appeared before me. She had a sad smile on her face and her white dress was covered in blood.
"Help them. I beg you," she whispered, through sob
s.
She looked so desperate and sad. Whoever she wanted me to save was dear to her, but who were they? Why would a human like me have anything to do with Storm Yuna? Our meeting was nothing but a coincidence. Now that she was gone, there was no way for me to help her.
That was the last image I saw before the darkness enveloped me once more.
"This can't continue! Every single time she has to come see you guys she gets seriously sick. She fainted. No, there wasn't a nosebleed this time. Why does any of this matter? Mrs. Arashi, this has been going on for YEARS! Not just a few days or months. You out of all people should be concerned... Because I care about her obviously. Why else would I be calling you? Ugh. I'm sorry for my disrespect, but she needs to get checked sooner rather than later or Mr. Arashi just has to deal with not seeing her for longer periods of time."
I stirred awake; James’ angry voice only made the headache that currently assaulted my senses worse. I struggled to open my eyes and was greeted by the dimly lit living room.
This wasn't the first time I'd fainted suddenly. It started when I was eighteen and had continued on and off since. Of course, it only happened when I had to see my parents. I guessed this time would be no different.
James had told my father about it once and he'd brushed it off like it was nothing, telling me to take my vitamins like the rest of the human race and I'd be alright. Totally supportive.
"She's resting. I don't know if she'll be able to go. I'll let you know. We still have two hours. I get the situation, Mrs. Arashi, and I understand this is something that must occur every three months, but Crimson's health comes first. If Mr. Arashi can't understand that...then I have nothing else to say. I'll text you if Crimson is able to make it. Sayonara."
James ruffled his hair angrily, jabbing the screen of his phone with his free hand and tossing it to land on the table.
"I swear, they don't even give a shit," he grumbled.
"James?" I whispered.
He turned to meet my eyes; his once angry gaze softened into a remorseful look.
"I keep waking you up, I'm sorry. How are you feeling?" He reached my side in two seconds and knelt down in front of the couch. He placed a hand on my forehead.
"Just exhausted. I don't feel like I have a fever or anything."
James nodded at my response but didn't look convinced. "Close your eyes and relax your mind," he instructed.
I gave him a soft smile and did what he instructed.
I felt his hand warm up; a wave of calm went through me to help ease the tension in my shoulders. I could feel the prickling sensation of magic crawl along my skin, which was James’ way to heal me and ensure I was physically okay.
He sighed in relief, removing his hand from my forehead which was an indication he was done. "You're okay. Nothing wrong internally. I think your anxiety has something to do with it."
I let out a soft giggle, shaking my head and began to slowly sit up. His hand rested behind my back for support and he helped me sit up on the couch.
"My anxiety and other so-called ‘issues’ as my father calls them, is NOT the cause of my fainting. I thought we already ruled that out?" I joked.
A playful grin formed on his lips as he sat next to me. "Yes, I think we ruled that one out after the bloody nose," he agreed.
I groaned, shivering in disgust. "That was the worst." I wrapped my arms around myself, rubbing them and shivering to add extra dramatic effect.
James actually laughed, shaking his head. "Sorry Miss 'I'm afraid of blood.' One swipe of your finger against your nose and slump. You were knocked out. I thought you died."
"You are even more overdramatic than me. You called my mom, acting like I was truly dead and she had to coach you how to take my pulse." I rolled my eyes and watched his cheeks grow red.
"That— I couldn't think properly, okay? Let's forget about that. Are you still planning to go? I was talking with your mom moments ago," James confirmed.
I took a deep breath, closing my eyes for a moment. "I don't know. I have to. I don't want to deal with my dad right now, especially with Storm Yuna's passing, but he'll be a complete ass about it for a good year if I bail. Even if I can barely breathe, he'd rather witness it himself with his own two eyes and send me home than have me not show up," I explained.
"Well, you’re gonna have to leave soon if you go. You’d rather be early with them."
"I know." I put my face in my hands. I felt James' hand rub against my back soothingly.
"Hey...what's wrong?" he whispered.
I shook my head, trying to calm the nerves that rattled me. I wasn't going to cry, but I just need to mentally prepare myself like I always did. James knew this, having experienced it enough times that he would know whether I was in the mood to cry or just be silent for a few seconds to center my breathing. I lifted my head to meet his concerned gaze. "I'm fine. I'm gonna go change," I announced, slowly rising to my feet.
He stood close to me to make sure I didn't faint or lose my balance. "Okay. If you need anything just call me." His voice was filled with worry.
"James, I'm okay. You don't need to act like I'm gonna disappear. You’re such a worry-wart," I teased playfully, before heading to my room.
"That means I care!" he called out.
"Sure," I drawled, entering my room and closing the door to give me some privacy. I rested my body against it; my shoulders slumped as I stared at the floor.
He always shows so much compassion when I'm ill, but can't even publicly say we’re dating. I walked over to my dresser, pulling out a pair of dark denim jeans, a simple white top that dipped rather low by my family’s standards. After throwing those on, I pulled on my black leather jacket. I walked over to the mirror, smiling at the feather tattoo on the right side of my neck.
It was made up of three feathers; the largest one was in the middle of the two smaller ones. The outline was in black and the feathers alternated between orange and pink. I'd gotten it when I was eighteen with James, as a reminder of starting a new beginning and to prove that I was now free to do what was right for myself.
It was sad that even after all these years, I still felt like a caged bird with no way out. I fixed the folds of the jacket to hide the majority of the tattoo and took a deep breath.
"Crimson. You okay?" James called out.
"I'm fine. Almost done," I called back, taking a final look at my overall appearance before I closed my jacket, while appreciating the silver zippers of the pockets. This had always been my favorite leather jacket, given to me by Hakua.
All set to put on a show and NOT impress my parents, yet again. Four times a year isn't that bad. At least I'll go have a nice drink, come home, take a nice long bath with some wine, and tomorrow sword dancing class resumes and I can see my wonderful best friend. I can do this! Maybe I'll even score a date with James.
I noticed my phone in the charging dock on the nightstand, mentally thanking James for charging it when I'd been knocked out. I grabbed my card holder, a few bills, and some pink lip gloss with a goldish undertone to put on before I reached the bar.
"Let's get this over with," I whispered to myself, sliding the items into my pockets before heading out of my room.
When I reached the living room I tilted my head in confusion; James was sliding on his own leather coat, fixing the collar before he noticed my presence.
"Where are you going?" I asked.
"With you."
I almost coughed in shock. "What? What do you mean you're going with me? You don't join us unless it’s a huge family get together," I reminded, walking over to where he stood to grab my combat boots with silver zippers to match my jacket.
"I thought it would be nice. A little change doesn't hurt." He chuckled.
"A little bit of defiance is gonna get both of us yelled at," I replied, standing from zipping my shoes to face him.
He grinned. "Defiance is such a harsh word. I'm just trying to grind their gears. Less dramatic." He took a step forward, sliding his
hand in mine which came to me as a shock.
"Is James Hamilton holding my hand? What is the world coming to? We're all doomed, sacrifices to our ancestors." I sighed dramatically.
"Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny." He spoke in a bored tone.
"I'm seriously okay, James. You don't need to hold my hand," I reassured him.
I knew the moment we got within five miles of my family home he'd start walking a little faster and put his hands in his pockets, to keep his distance and prove he wasn't associated with me romantically.
He always did that whenever we went there together. It didn't matter how many times he promised he wouldn't, it was always the same. I knew in my gut that today would be no different.
"I know. I just feel like it today," he muttered, his red eyes glancing away and his cheeks tinged a light red.
I grinned, having to mentally remind myself not to kiss him. Even if my body knew this was the perfect situation and tingled with the hope that eventually our relationship would be something more, I couldn't risk screwing up again.
"You'll be able to handle Mr. Arashi," I mocked.
"With ease and grace. He's in the middle of a deal with my father and I bet he'll want to leave a good impression with me right now. Maybe he'll treat you better today?"
I laughed. "You can wish, but I've known him my whole life and he's more stubborn than stone. Either way, your presence will help me, a lot. Thank you," I whispered my gratitude, squeezing his hand.
He nodded with a smile. "You’re welcome, Crim. Let's make our way there, shall we?"
I nodded in response, hoping this would end on a positive note.
He reached for our keys, giving me mine just in case he had to leave early, so I could come home by myself later in the morning.
I took a deep breath and the vivid images from my dream drifted into my mind. I followed James, whose hand was still in mine as we walked down the hall to the elevator, but my attention continued to go through the three scenes in my head.
Taming the Storm (Crimson Storm Chronicles Book 1) Page 3
