by Myers, J. L.
But I’d left Marcus over an hour ago. I had asked him for the time, and had even glimpsed the hands of his silver-faced Rolex to confirm it. Where have I been?
My body slumped, exhaustion catching up with me as I pushed into my memories. Suddenly my head felt heavy, unable to think coherently. Something else was bothering me too. After eating a light lunch with Marcus, I should’ve been starving by now. But my stomach felt full and content. When did I eat, and with who?
Too lethargic, my mind refused to search for an answer. I slumped further into the hard-cushioned couch.
Sleep was ready to claim me. There was no holding it back. My eyelids slowly dropped and my mind blanked, giving way to unconscious sleep.
An almost inaudible sound tore me back to waking: the sound of footsteps. My heart leaped beneath my ribs and I bolted upright. “Who’s there?”
Silence. A dim glow caught the corner of my eye. It was the amethyst pendant. When had I taken it off? I snatched the stone from coffee table, but my fingers instantly released. The pendant fell to the ground, and the smell of burned flesh reached my nostrils. The surface of the stone was boiling. It had literally singed my fingers.
Another sound drew my eyes to the bathroom. Darkness emanated from the partially open door. I clambered from the couch. “Hello?”
Within the blackness, I could almost detect the ominous outline of a figure, a person. My heart jumped into my throat. Adrenaline turned every one of my muscles taut. There was no turning back. I kicked the bathroom door in and launched. My body connected with the figure, and we crashed to the ground.
“Ouch!” it yelped as we skidded with a thump into the vanity.
The assailant’s voice was deep and unmistakable. “Kendrick?”
“Yeah, who’d you think it was?” He sounded a little annoyed. “Will you get off me?”
Warmth invaded my body. I was still lying on top of him, my chest pressed against his and our faces less than an inch apart. “Oh, sorry…” In an awkward movement I drew away, rising to my feet and turning on the fluorescents. I extended a hand to pull Kendrick up. “What are you doing in here, anyway?”
“I was coming to say goodnight to you.” Kendrick crossed his arms over his Kutless t-shirt. “What’s with the attack greeting?”
Relief cured my embarrassment and my fear. It was just Kendrick. “I thought I saw…” I shook my head. “Never mind…”
Kendrick smiled, a somewhat strained and forced expression. Then he turned to leave.
A memory rose to the surface of my mind. There was something I needed to ask him. “Wait!”
His shoulders tensed and he turned back to me. “What?”
“The d-damned,” I stammered, struck by his hard expression and tone. “What are the damned?”
Kendrick sucked in a breath, eyes narrowing. “Where did you hear that?”
I pulled my naked iPhone from my back pocket, and handed it over with the post-it note open. “I came across an old diary in the library. These words were pressed into the back cover.”
Kendrick pinched his chin in thought. “The diary, it was from the 1700’s, right?” I nodded. “Well, I don’t know too much. But I’ve learned some of the history, which tells of a war between our kind and the damned. In the end we triumphed, hunting them to extinction.”
“Extinct? So, they’re all gone?”
“Of course,” Kendrick insisted. “Now go to sleep. You look like crap.” He left without another word, switching the fluorescents off before disappearing into his room.
Standing in darkness I found the pendant on the floor and fastened it around my neck. Then I frowned. Something was wrong. Kendrick and I had a close friendship, one I thought we had completely repaired. But this morning and again just now he’d seemed different, somehow cold. Am I imagining things? I wasn’t sure. With the weight of my other concerns creeping to the surface, the lethargy I had felt before was quickly returning. In the morning, I thought to myself. I’ll figure it all out in the morning.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
I relaxed across from my uncle, sipping from a blood-filled goblet. As usual his desk was askew with a messy pile of folders that sat beneath the diamond-cut paperweight. I began nibbling at my second mint biscuit. Caius had sourced them, knowing they were my favorites. Apparently tonight marked a special occasion.
For a second I wondered if he knew of my decision to stay. Then my thoughts returned to where they had been set most of the day. Kendrick. Despite his promise to hang out today, his distant behavior had increased. It had gotten so bad that I was questioning his constant excuses. It felt as though he was continually making an effort to avoid me. Had I done something?
“Marcus has informed me,” Caius’s voice pulled me from my troubling thoughts. “That you have decided to stay, to forge a new life within our walls.”
So that was the reason for the biscuits. A broad smile spread across my lips. “Yes. I hope that’s okay.” There were still so many things I was confused about, but one thing I knew with total clarity. I belong here.
“I would love nothing more.”
Uncle Caius was smiling, but something felt off. Paranoid much? I shook off the feeling and sipped from my goblet. The cold liquid coated my mouth, absorbing straight through my flesh. This time I savored the sensation. Caius had been right. My senses had become accustomed to the ancient blood, so much so that I barely felt the urge to cough.
“And if you become interested in a court appointed job,” Uncle Caius added. “I am sure I can put in a good word. There will be many important sub positions available once you mature.”
I was about to reply, thanking him for his generous offer, when my vision shattered. The amethyst pendant against my chest warmed. Then the ground beneath me seemed to open up, swallowing me in darkness.
My eyes rolled back in my head. Then without warning it was suddenly light again. Starbursts pierced my eyes and I blinked rapidly, clearing my vision. I was no longer within the comfort of my uncle’s office. Instead, I stood between two freestanding bookshelves in the library. My skin prickled, feeling alien and cold. How had I gotten here? Was I missing time again? Was this even real, or just another dream?
The sound of a wall-mounted clock above my head chimed with the repetitive signal of a new hour. I took no notice, my sight set on a gap created between musty books.
Pressure constricted my throat. Kendrick stood beyond the barricade. He wasn’t alone.
Marcus paced in front of him, dressed in all black with the sleeve of his collared shirt rolled up. “It’s happening tonight.” He stopped pacing to stand before Kendrick, placing both hands on my best friend’s shoulders. There was a deep gash across Marcus’s wrist with a smudge of blood drying around it. “Kendrick, you will not interfere.”
Kendrick’s eyes glazed over and his face became expressionless. He nodded almost robotically.
“Now, take this to Amelia,” Marcus directed, handing Kendrick a glass topped with blood.
Fear stole my pulse, my legs felt weak. Something within me clicked. All my confusion, missing time, lethargy and dizzy spells… It was Marcus all along. And now he was using my best friend through compulsion. Why? What was he planning? And what does it have to do with me?
My jaw dropped. I wanted to scream, needed to break Marcus’s hold on my best friend. But all that emerged was white noise, a high-pitched squealing sound that barely registered on an audible level.
Marcus drew back his shoulders, eyes darting about the dark and seemingly empty library, before regaining their hold on my best friend. “Make her drink all of it. Force it down her throat, if you must.” His silver-raging eyes, now entirely extinguished of teal flecks, bore into Kendrick’s. “And I need you to compel her to remember. Remember everything she has been made to forget.”
Kendrick’s voice emerged mechanical, emotionless. “I will make her drink the blood. I will compel her to remember.”
Barely a second later, the tension returned
to his face. He shook his head, disorientated, the haze clearing from his eyes. “Sorry, what was I saying?”
With a last stitch of desperation, I went to dart around the bookshelves. But I couldn’t move. My mouth opened to scream. And it was like a living nightmare. Not a single sound came out.
Then the library melted. It pulsed right before my eyes like a hospital patient being shocked by high voltage. The jolt rippled through me with the force of being slammed against a brick wall. I gasped for air, lungs squeezing. I felt like I was being strangled.
“Amelia!” My uncle’s worry-struck voice reached my ears. “Are you okay?” It almost sounded like he was calling out from a distance. Only that couldn’t be the case. Because his broad hands were curled around my shoulders and shaking my body. “Amelia, answer me!”
The strength of his shaking caused my head to rattle. My brain felt waterlogged, not quite conscious yet. I forced my tongue and mouth to move through the numbness. “Yes. I’m okay. Just stop shaking me.”
Uncle Caius did as I asked and I opened my eyes to view his stricken face. His eyes widened for a split second, looking surprised. Then his chest rose and fell with a deep breath, calculated concern changing his expression. “Amelia, you scared me half to death. What happened?”
Shock vaulted through me as my brain finally caught up. I was back in my uncle’s office, able to smell the remaining mint biscuits on his desk. What I had just witnessed hadn’t been missing time, or even a dream. It had been real. What the hell?
Marcus. My heart sank. Inside I felt hollow. The connection I’d experienced between us had been a warning. One I had foolishly ignored. It can’t be true. Yet something I had realized many times before, and somehow forgotten, dawned on me. A pressing weight against my stomach made me want to gag. My dreams come true. And now I knew the truth. Marcus was plotting against me and using my best friend like a stringed puppet to act out his plans. I ran over the time frame of my previous telling dreams. Other than the distortion of already played out events, I dreamed everything before it came to be.
Urgency struck me, an electric thunderbolt that seared from the inside out. What time had it been in my vision? When would this happen? I recalled the chiming clock, but knew I hadn’t seen the face of it. Then it hit me. The chimes, there had been six of them. 6AM, the perfect time with no one awake to overhear them. My eyes darted sideways to the ticking grandfather clock against the wall of Caius’s office. 5.55AM. If the time was correct, I didn’t have more than five minutes. But I had to try. I had to get to Kendrick before Marcus did.
“Amelia?” Caius tilted my head up with the palm of his hand.
He was still waiting on me to answer his question, but I couldn’t tell him. What was there even to tell? I had no proof, nothing to back up my fears. And I had no time. I shook my head. “I thought I had gotten used to the ancient blood,” I lied. “I guess I took too big a gulp. I was just so thirsty.” In truth the last part wasn’t a lie. A thirst, similar to the night I had learned monsters exited, gripped me. All moisture was stripped from my throat. “I’m really tired, though. Do you mind if I go to bed?”
Caius rose from his crouched position beside me looking wary. “You do look worse for wear. May I escort you?”
Taking my uncles outstretched hand for leverage, I rose to my feet. “No, thank you. I’ll be fine.”
Caius, though clearly doubtful, nodded. “Very well…” He wrapped me in gentle arms then walked me out the door to the hall. With a short pause and a tip of his head, he said, “Sleep well, my dear,” and closed the door behind him.
There wasn’t a second to waste. So where was Kendrick? Already in the library, or up in his room readying for bed? Dawn was close to breaking. So his room was the most logical place. But what if Marcus had already lured him down there? Indecision crippled me. The clock was ticking. I had to make a choice. Library.
In a flash, I had cleared the corridors and burst through the door to the library. Everything was dark and silent. No footsteps across the carpet. No whispered voices, and no Marcus or Kendrick. My eyes flew up to the wall-mounted clock. 6.05AM. Was I wrong altogether? Had my dream even played out yet, or was it still to come? There was no way to know. Not until I found Kendrick.
I bolted up to my room and flew through the door. I was heading straight for the door joining Kendrick’s room when something jarred me to a standstill. I wasn’t alone.
Kendrick stood stiffly before my bed. The bedside lamp backlighting his figure emphasized his expressionless face with hard shadows. Blood raced through my veins. My heart hammered within my chest. Kendrick’s surprise appearance, or even the puzzlement of his blank expression, wasn’t the cause for my body’s fear-driven reaction. What he held in his hand was.
“Kendrick.” Taking a cautious step forward, I eyed the blood-filled glass in his hands. “What are you doing in here?”
Kendrick’s face remained frozen, his dead eyes staring through me. “This is for you,” he said, holding out the glass.
Terror gripped my heart, sending tingling waves outward to encapsulate every inch of my body. I fought the need to shudder. “Kendrick, this isn’t you. I saw it. I know Marcus is compelling you.” I dared a further step forward, pleading with my eyes. “Kendrick, please. I know you’re in there, and I need you to fight back. I know you can.”
A glimmer of conflicting emotions flashed through my best friend’s eyes. His hand holding the glass dropped an inch. Then it rose again, higher, extending toward me. The pain riddling his expression made it look like he was being torn apart from the inside out. “You have to drink this. All of it.”
My feet were moving, backing up to the door. Marcus’s compulsion was too strong. I couldn’t get through to him. As I closed in on the open doorway, I turned, ready to bolt. Before I could get one foot over the threshold, the door slammed in my face.
The click of a key locking the door sounded. Kendrick’s hand, now free of the blood-filled glass, splayed against the wood. His chest pressed against my back. “You will drink.”
Gooseflesh cascaded down my body at the brush of his breath against my neck. My eyes darted sideways. The bathroom door was open. But I’d never make it. I needed leverage. “Okay, I’ll drink it. All of it.”
Kendrick’s pressing weight against my back eased. It was the opportunity I needed.
I whirled and drove my fists into his gut. He flew back through the air, and I made my attempt, racing into the shadow-cloaked bathroom. I cried out in frustration. The door to Kendrick’s room was locked. I was cornered.
And then he was on me. Fingers threaded through my hair and dragging me back across the tiles. With arms and legs flailing, I struck out futilely. Now anticipating my resistance, he blocked each attempt.
Suddenly my feet left the ground as Kendrick threw me onto my bed. He landed in a split second to pin my chest down with his knees. I struck out, aiming for his face with clawed fingers. But Kendrick was fast, too fast. His hands caught my wrists, pinning them above my head. My legs thrashed. Still it was no use.
Kendrick lowered his face to mine, now restraining my wrists with just one hand. His other hand moved to clutch my cheeks. “Stop fighting me.” The silver flecks of his irises exploded and his pupils dilated. “Stop resisting.”
My body ceased thrashing, turning limp and heavy. Move, dammit! I screamed internally. Still it was no use. My muscles and limbs were too weak.
Kendrick released my cheeks and leaned forward, collecting the almost full glass from my bedside. His eyes didn’t break focus. “Now, open your mouth.”
The blood’s aroma was peppery and metallic. It made my mouth water. “Don’t do this,” I begged before my jaw fell open. Icy tears trickled down my face.
Kendrick didn’t flinch. He lowered the glass to my parted lips, filling my mouth. “Swallow.” My throat complied without my permission. Then the shell of my best friend repeated the process, until every last drop was gone. Kendrick’s last compelled words
were whispered. “Remember all you have been made to forget.” He pulled away from my chest, rising to his feet.
Rage swirled through my entire body. I knew none this was Kendrick’s doing, his fault. Still a part of me wanted to launch at him. To inflict pain for the humiliation he’d just subjected me to. But my limbs felt like they were filling with cement, my eyes struggling to stay open. Remember all you have been made to forget. The words burned, like a fiery pen branding them across the inside of my skull. The solid brick-wall I felt around my memories—a wall I hadn’t even realized existed—glowed and pulsed. Veins of hairline fractures split out across the barrier. Marcus had accomplished his operative. What would happen now? My stomach knitted with a churning horror of the unknown. “Kendrick, please,” I choked, struggling to speak through the numbness that was fast swelling across my tongue and down my throat. “Please don’t leave me.”
Kendrick didn’t reply. He didn’t even look at me. Instead, he doused my bedside lamp and turned away with a nod as if he’d been released after completing his tasks. No longer able to hold themselves open, my eyelids drooped. I could hear my best friend’s softening footsteps depart, the pitch changing as he entered the bathroom. Then there was a clatter of metal on metal. A bolt unlocked before the door to his room opened and closed. I was alone.
The words embedded in my head pulsed again, forcing bricks to fall and crumble. A flood of images knocked the breath from my lungs. They were fragmented and splintered, barely intelligible and struggling to reform. With the last of my dwindling strength, I rolled onto my side with a groan, curling my body in on itself. My breath had slowed, continuing to decrease as my pulse waned. Then with the last moments of consciousness, one memory slipped into sharp focus. A folder with my name printed inside the cover, and a concoction of ingredients. I wanted to gasp but couldn’t. Those ingredients would slow the heart and deteriorate muscle function, rendering a person into a state of paralysis.
