An excerpt from Redemption, a book from the up coming Dark Royals Series

Chapter Six

Terri

I cannot believe the nerve of that arrogant bastard, Terri continued to fume as she finally slipped her key into the lock and turned the knob to the apartment that had been her permanent residence for the past year. After fighting almost forty minutes of traffic thanks to a three car collision nearest the freeway, all she could think about was ordering a pepperoni pizza, with bread sticks, some fudge brownies and washing it all down with a nice cold glass of Coca Cola before climbing into bed. She pushed the door open and to her surprise and horror Mr. Thomas was sitting on her couch with a bouquet of red and white roses, a Dior gift bag and she could be wrong but a remorseful expression. She didn’t know if she should attempt to run for her gun or just run period. The bastard had broken and entered into her home and had the nerve to be sitting on her couch waiting for her. He stood up and quickly approached her before she had time to bolt down the hallway and back to her car. He closed the door behind them, forcing her to back into the corner like a cornered animal. “I just wanted to apologize for what I said. My intentions clearly did not match my words and I am truly remorseful for the anger that I caused.” He said, his mouth inches away from hers; his big brawn hunched to her level, both hands pressed against the wall behind her and his eyes intensely fixed on hers. “In order for me to properly accept your apology, I think you should give me some physical space.” She breathed, her heart racing a mile a minute from just being in such dizzying close proximity to so much man.

He straightened his posture, and only backed away just enough to give her some breathing room…but not much. He had made it painstakingly clear that he was not allowing her room to get away from him, and Terri reasoned that if he really wanted to hurt her, he could have easily done so. But, he needed to know that annoying the hell out of her would be the quickest way for him to get his feelings hurt. “So do you?” He asked, or better yet demanded. “Do I what?” She asked, finding herself once again annoyed by his demeanor. “Accept my apology?” “For being a pompous ass? Sure. Now could you please leave?” She stepped around him, and dropped her purse on the dining room table and then kicked her shoes off leaving them right by the table and chairs as if totally unbothered by his presence. “I annoy you don’t I?” He asked following her to the living room and watching her take a seat by her answering machine and pressing play to gather today’s unanswered messages. “Yes, you do. Why? No one has ever told you that you ‘oh great one’ have an annoying presence?” She almost laughed at the sight of his jaw actually dropping at her comment. He looked downright astounded. “No woman has ever told me that I annoyed them. They have always enjoyed my presence.” “Well there is a first time for everything,” she mumbled as she hit the play button to her answering machine. He went to say something as she motioned for him to be quiet as she listened in on the dozen or so messages that were waiting for her. The first five were from Lee: “Terri, I know I wasn’t always a good man to you but we can work it out.” She didn’t bother to finish listening to them, she just erased his pathetic pleas for second chances, all the while reaping the benefits of a heat seeking gaze coming from Luther. If she hadn’t known better she would have sworn the man was jealous. But that was ludicrous, they just met. The rest of the messages came from her attorney explaining to her that the court date had been moved up and basically all she needed to do was sign and then she was free, and then of course there were bill collectors demanding payment. When she was done, she realized Luther had taken a seat on the couch, clearly demonstrating the fact that he was going nowhere.

“I came all the way down here to apologize, just for you to tell me that I annoy you,” he said with a hint of sarcasm. “Well that is your problem. You have this way about yourself that irks the hell out of me. I am done dealing with men who are assholes.” She retorted. “And how am I an asshole?” He demanded with his nostrils flaring, and his jaw set so tight she thought he would break a tooth. “It is your demeanor,” she replied coolly. “You act as if the world owes you something and everyone in it is born to worship you. You know that money talks and therefore provides you with great amounts of power over people that you carelessly flex and I refuse to be a part of it. I have enough issues of my own and I don’t have to deal with a man who would treat me any less than what I demand and what I deserve. You can’t buy everyone. At least not me.” “I don’t want to buy you,” he said appearing somewhat defeated. “You challenge me and I like it. At least let me buy you dinner and to prove to you that I am not always such an arrogant prick, I will bring you safely back home, see you to your door and leave like a perfect gentleman. Please.” “Dinner?” She mocked with a raised eyebrow. From her limited experiences with men, she had concluded many a time that when men typically bought a woman dinner, there was an expectation of a returned favor that did not involve food. “Yes, dinner. That is why I came over.” “You broke into my house-“ “I entered the same way that I did last night, so technically I did not break and enter.” The stared at each other in a sort of silent stand-off until Terri relented with an “Ok.” It took Luther a second to comprehend that she actually agreed without much of a fight when she said, “But only one these conditions: you stick to your word-no funny business. You asked me, I did not ask you and so I owe you nothing. And, you have to honestly explain to me how the hell you ended up on my couch last night.” He smiled, flashing those dazzling bright whites that could light up a room. “Fair enough.”

Blind Salvation: Final Damien Excerpt

Damien

She saw him– that was all he could think about as he carried his woman into the closest room with a bed. His parents were right behind him and when Lucinda had emerged from wherever it was she had been taking refuge and joined them. He kicked down the door and forced himself into one of the servant quarters, which was no bigger than a walk in closet with a single bed, and a sink. The room looked a lot like the prison cells seen on the show Locked Up but he didn’t care. He needed to get her on a hard and flat surface; at least he thought that was what he needed to do. Her scent, that citrusy fragrance of hers had thickened; not the same scent that indicated her arousal but that single identifying smell that separated her from the rest…the Fae. “What happened?” He asked his father, his mind racing with worry. “I don’t know. I have never seen a Fae/Seer mixture before…never seen a Fae mixed with anything combo. I wish I knew son.” “She saw me…” Damien whispered awestruck. “She did. She saw all of us.” Hadrian replied as he leaned his muscled frame against the doorway. “What triggered it?” Damien asked as he gently brushed a stray hair away from her face. Phaedra frowned and glanced up at her husband who simply shrugged,” Fear.” Kennedy moaned and before groggily sitting up. Damien glared at his father who again simply shrugged before turning around and walking away dismissing everyone as if that were in fact a kingly thing to do.

He helped her rise, and she rubbed her eyes and he could tell she was trying to force whatever it was that happened to happen again and when it did not, she hung her head in disappointment. “Are you alright?” Phaedra said softly, her voice filled with concern. “Yes, I am. Thank you,” Kennedy nodded. “I will have the staff prepare you a meal,” Phaedra continued. “What will you like?” “Uh…” “She doesn’t like fish or anything sea food.” Damien answered. “Ok, well how about a turkey sub on wheat? Rodger makes a sandwich so divine that if I were to allow him he could put Subway out of business.” Phaedra bragged. Lucinda, who had been peaking from the other side of the door way the entire time, chuckled. “What do you know about places like Subway mother? You hardly leave the house.” “Who needs to leave the house when you have cable and a culinary genius at your beck and call?” Phaedra said playfully. “Bring her to the kitchen so that she may eat. Hunger may be the cause for some of the fluctuations that she is experiencing,” Phaedra ordered right before she poofed herself out of the doorway. “I don’t know what happened Damien,” Kennedy said sadly. “I saw you-“”-I know.” “What’s wrong with me?” Damien glanced over to where his sister was standing and clearly taking in the moment. Her grey eyes were filled with unshed tears that she quickly wiped her way, her pale cheeks red and her expression sullen. He mouthed, “What’s wrong?” And Lucinda’s response was her disappearing into the nothingness. Damien sighed. “We are trying to figure that out love,” he said cupping Kennedy’s face. “You know what I wish I could see once more?” Kennedy said, her mouth brushing the tips of his fingers, sending an erotic chill throughout his body. “What’s that?” She raised her eyes to meet his. “Your eyes. I love your eyes. The blue is deep and unfathomable, like you.” Well what could he say to that? Nothing. He placed a gentle kiss on her lips before helping her to her feet.

And so the light fell in love with the dark, even though it was the light that could not see and it was the dark that bathed in the sun.

He held her hand in his and once their fingers were intertwined, a sense of peace flooded his senses. And somehow, he knew that this was meant to be.

Blind Salvation: New Character Alert

Rothbart

Using his sword, he sliced the head clean off of the Night Stalker and stepped back to watch it disintegrate onto the floor. The fifteen or saw Night Stalkers that were in his presence looked at each other with unease. “I had her!” He bellowed as he scanned the creatures that stood before him seeking another victim. Instead, he kicked an old woodened table and sent it crashing into a wall. He was back at the abandoned cellar of an old Victorian styled house that had become his home. Stupid Night Stalkers and their aversion for sunlight; sometimes they proved themselves to be nothing more than useless and this moment was one of those times. He should have just broke into the house and grabbed her himself but then he knew he would have had to come face to face with Lucinda and he was not sure if he could steady himself in her presence. He punched a hole in the wall, the plaster exploded from the impact. That blind woman-no that Seer would have been an excellent bargaining chip to lure that arrogant prince and then his father to their doom.

“We can attack the mansion as soon as the sun sets,” one of the Night Stalkers, the oldest of the bunch who was once a lively man in his late thirties and a promising career in politics from the 18^th century suggested. Rothbart eyed him hatefully but did not say anything. He could attack the mansion tonight and while the Night Stalkers offered a useful distraction he could go inside and retrieve the Seer and ultimately lure the prince to his death. And after the prince, the King…followed by the queen and then… he shook his head. As much as he hated Lucinda for leaving him with a bitter heart he was not sure if he could bring himself to kill her. But, he could make her suffer. “Leave,” he commanded the Night Stalkers who did not hesitate to relieve themselves of his presence. “Return as soon as the sun sets,” was all that he said as he watched them head into various parts of the house to hide from the last few remaining rays of the sun.

He dropped his sword, a hand- made blade constructed from the fiery embers of the Vatican made from the finest of alloys and then blessed by the Pope himself, and slumped on the ratty green sofa he had purchased over 40 years ago. The thought of Lucinda always sent him down a road of memories he unsuccessfully tried to bury deep into the black box he held under lock and key. But it was too late. He closed his eyes, and trued to distract his thoughts with remembering when the last time was he had taken the time to shower. It had been days-no, weeks maybe? He ran his fingers through his thinning blonde hair and remembered how Lucinda used to do the same. On nights when he could steal her away from the responsibilities of a future queen, they would secret themselves away to foggy streets of London, laughing and joking and headed wherever they pleased, and she would find that moment when he would lose himself in her grey eyes and run her fingers lovingly though his hair to the very tips.

How he missed those beautiful eyes of hers…and that thick mane of red hair. He used to lay it across his chest after several rounds of love making, while she cuddled next to him talking about the burdens of the throne and how demanding her father had been. Damien had been a fledgling then-the equivalent of a teenager, and Rothbart looked forward to those stolen moments with the vampire who had not only stolen his heart but his soul. Making love to her had been an experience that was irreplaceable and since their split he had not lain with another woman since then. She was insatiable and sensual-the perfect mix and it had been he that had taught her what she probably now used to entice her male suitors. It was he, Rothbart, who had been her first.

He grimaced at the memory. How could a love so perfect end so tragically? He was more than willing to leave the Order just so that he could spend his days and nights with her. He would have gladly turned a blind eye to the mess of Night Stalkers that her people carelessly created just so that he could build a relationship with her father, the King. And, then when he died and was reborn a few hundred years or so later, he would have come back to her…their love would have never had to end. But no, she would always be “Daddy’s Perfect Princess”. His blood would never be good enough for her and who he was would never be accepted, even if he did put down his sword. She had to marry a vampire. He wondered if she was married even though she was pretty much dethroned and replaced by her brother. He wondered if she truly loved her mate and if she ever truly loved him. He seriously needed to get it together. He needed more time. He would not attack the mansion tonight. Lucinda was what the Seer was to the prince: his life and his death. He still had plenty of time left to exact his vengeance.

Blind Salvation: Kennedy

Kennedy

The pain that shocked her system was indescribable. It sent a fire that swept through her and consumed every fiber of her being that she felt her convulse again, over and over under her body went limp from exhaustion. She heard the familiar and loving voice of Damien, encouraging her, reminding her that he was right there and then…she hurled. Violently. Until there was nothing else left but dry heaves. A few minutes later she felt herself being lifted, her clothing removed-something she struggled against until she was reminded that it was no one else but Damien- and then her body relax as it hit the deliciously warm and sudsy water of her tub. The side of her neck ached, and she was aware that Damien was careful not to brush up against it too much. The wound was raw and the creature that did that to her, that vampire had clearly wanted to do more than kill her. Her eyes snapped open at the realization, and the tall, shadowy outline that defined Damien, spoke in soft tones to her, reassuring her that they were alone.

Guinevere was the creature’s name, and she only knew that because another one had saved her. Another vampire. And, now here she was with Damien. He cleansed her tenderly before scooping her into his arms and wrapped her in the plush robe that he had discovered in the huge walk in closet. Her mother’s. Kennedy made a mental note that maybe it was time to get rid of some things. Her parents were never coming back and all of their reminders did not help. He propped her up on the bed and she could feel him staring at her. “I don’t know what happened,” she whispered. Between the pain and the awakening fear, she did her best to fight back the tears that flooded her already bad vision but it was too much. She almost died again. “I was at the park with Hubert and she came out of nowhere,” she stammered. “She said I was the reason why you looked at her with disgust…” ‘Guinevere,” he growled. “It was Guinevere.” “Who is she and why?” She could sense Damien fidgeting around in discomfort, and it was then that she realized that there was still much more she did not know about this man or vampire. “I am a prince,” he stated with no emotion. “Guinevere is to be my bride-not by my choice. I want nothing to do with her-““-So you are engaged?” Kennedy said feeling like she just got punched in the stomach. “Yes,” Damien said dryly. “Courtesy of my father who is the King.” “When were you going to tell me?” Kennedy could barely speak, not without giving away the fact that her heart was breaking. “I have been working on finding a way out…” “I see…” “She won’t come for you again,” Damien said quickly taking her hand. “My sister Lucinda took care of that.” “And how did she know about me? How did both of them know about me?” “Guinevere caught your scent even after I showered last night. Her family has a legendary ability to track virtually anyone or anything which made them incredibly skilled…hunters. I did not know that she would find you so quickly if at all but I clearly underestimated her ability. Lucinda had been following Guinevere because she never liked her and she too had caught your scent mixed with mine…and she was able to save you. She saved you because…because of me…” Damien allowed his last statement to trail off as he studied Kennedy’s heartbroken expression. Tears streamed down her lovely brown face like a spring rain and gently wiped her face with his palm, collecting each tear as if it were a precious diamond. He could feel the pain-not just the physical pain of the attack but the emotional turmoil that she suffered. Because of him. She was an intelligent woman. She was independent. She was not some feeble minded nor emotionally needed woman who yearned for basic companionship. She trusted him; something that he did not want to lose. As Damien continued to study her, he realized only a woman in love would allow any of this. He could feel it in her smile and the way her heart would beat erratically and frantically in his presence. Kennedy felt his gaze and put her face in her hands. This was too much. The man that she lov- the man that she…she… “I love you Kennedy,” he blurted out. The man that she was in love with was about to be married to someone else. Life sucked. Balls.

“Did you hear me,” he said. “I love you.” She had heard him the first time but could not find the strength to say it back. He had struck a chord and the floodgates reopened and more crystal tears poured down her face and her soul cried out for the release. “I love you too,” She finally managed to say. “Hopelessly in love with you…” And then she sobbed until her very soul was tired.

Blind Salvation Excerpt…: Kennedy

Kennedy stretched and relaxed back into the toasty warmth provided not only by the comforter that she was wrapped in, but by the arms of the man who had become almost like her guardian in less than 24 hours. She could hear the slow and deep inhales and exhales as he lied beside her with her body folded protectively into his arms; his body completely still and the perfect reprieve from the mundane existence that she had possessed for most of her life. She had never known what it meant to be fully contented, even with all of the amenities that her parent’s success had provided, her lack of sight had always proven to be a hindrance which made her feel like she was living a half-life. However, since the moment this man, Damien had saved her from a torturous and perhaps fatal encounter she finally had the feeling that life had given her a purpose: which meant that she would no longer be a prisoner of the dark.

She moved again, only slightly, desperate to not disturb him, but there was a sudden awakening blooming between her legs. She tried not to think about the way he kissed her with such gentle reverence; he was careful yet deliberate; his lips full and soft and a sensual delicacy that she wanted to secretly devour. No man had ever been successful in gaining her trust let alone her desire. She had grown to accept the possibility of spending the rest of her life alone unwanted and without unconditional love. She assumed that every man she would ever meet would only be able to love her conditionally: as long as she was financially stable he would give her his time and attention; he would feed that private longing of acceptance and when the time came for when he had had his fill she would be back to square one again. And yet, not even a full 24 hours later Damien had done more than earn her trust: he found the secret key to the unlocked chamber hidden beyond the gates of her beating heart.

Relax Kennedy, she thought to herself as she accidentally brushed her behind against the iron rod that protruded lengthily from between his legs. Could that be for me? She chastised herself again for wishful thinking and scooted further into the bed away from his hips. In response, he gripped her waist a little tighter and pulled her in closer, with that iron rod gently pushing, searching for an in, increasing the growing hunger for something a little more primal than food. With his arm around her waist he began to nuzzle the base of her neck and then he began to leave a trail of soft kisses from her neck to shoulder, and as much as Kennedy’s mind screamed for her to tell him to stop she surrendered to his silent demand. His body was calling her and she responded. And then he began to purr.

The noise was barely audible, but with her eyes being weak her other senses had kicked into overdrive and so she knew what she heard. Strange, yes, she had never heard of a man purring in response to intimacy but hey, she was making noises too. She turned to face him and in the shadowy darkness she could see that internal spark that she knew everyone possessed and could be best identified as the “soul”; but his was not the golden light that she typically saw in regular people, no his was the color of a blue flame and she did not know what to make of it. She did not care. His purring grew louder as he took her mouth and eased his tongue into hers; guiding her, teaching her, showing her all the things that he could do to her if she let him. And she would.

He released her mouth and continued with his trail of kisses down her jugular and before she knew it he ripped her oversized shirt completely off. And then the purring turned into something else. He growled. Not the vicious snarl that one would expect from a dog, more or less like a lion who had its prey in its sights. But for her it was not frightening; it was orgasmic. The fire that lit through her had rocked her to the core. Her core had ripened and after a moment of contract and release the euphoria that flooded her system was maddening. “Don’t leave me,” he whispered huskily as he gently sucked, licked and teased her nipple until she exploded again. “Pleeeeaassse,” she begged. She could not have been sure what it was she was begging for but whatever it was she needed to have it. He slid his hands underneath her and pulled her sweats down and threw them to the floor exposing her. “You honor me,” he said reverently. “Oh God you honor me…” “Please be gentle…I haven’t done this before,” she breathed. Oh how she wished she could see! He kissed the inside of her thigh before answering. “Don’t worry, I will not take you like this,” he said his voice having deepened. “But I will not leave you lost in this state either.” He kissed the insides of her thighs, sending more shockwaves into her core which reverberated throughout the course of her body, before he plunged in head first. She never knew that her voice could reach a pitch that high, but it did. He kissed, licked and ravished her until she could no longer take it and once she released she felt his body begin to vibrate uncontrollably with hers and they both cried out and he collapsed in a heap next to her. Wow was the only word that came to mind.

Blind Salvation Excerpt Post 3

Kennedy

It was almost noon when Kennedy stretched and yawned and proceeded to drag herself out of bed. What a night. Hubert was already in the living room as if he had been waiting for years for her to awaken. “Morning, Hubert,” she said as cautiously made her way into the kitchen. There was enough light for her to see into the kitchen and her stomach let her know immediately it was time for her to put something in it. Cereal would suffice and thank the Heavens she still had half of a box of Frosted Flakes waiting for her at the top of the fridge. Hubert had snuck up behind and barked, causing her to nearly drop the cereal, letting her know that his bowl was empty. So before she grabbed herself a plastic bowl that she kept in one of the many cabinets that made up the kitchen, she went to the cabinet underneath the sink and reached for a can of Purina and opened it and dumped the contents into his food bowl. She then grabbed his second food bowl which she filled with some of his dry food and last but not least she grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge and gave him some fresh water. “There ya go Hubert,” she said. “Sorry about that…” It was then that she realized that Marisol was not there and being that her friend knew better than to leave a note, Kennedy thought best to give her a call. She didn’t mean to interrupt Hubert’s feast but she could not settle herself enough to eat without finding out what happened to Marisol. “Hubert,” she commanded. “Phone.” Slightly disgruntled but obedient Hubert went into parent’s bedroom and retrieved her IPhone 6 and after she took it out of his mouth she patted his head lovingly and said “Good boy. Now go eat.” Hubert wagged his tail happily and then greedily went back to his food. “Siri, dial Marisol.” Kennedy spoke into the receiver of Apple’s best -selling product. “Calling Marisol,” the operating system responded. Marisol picked up on the first ring. “Hey girlie,” she said cheerfully. “Hey Mari, I was just calling to check on you,” Kennedy said as she grabbed a bowl and poured the contents of the cereal box into it. “I know my friend and thank you. I left early this morning because my pops wanted me to handle some business for him. Are you ok?” “Yeah sure, fine I just wanted to make sure you were ok. We had quite a bit of wine last night,” Kennedy chuckled. “Girl I know…I was knocked out cold. I didn’t want to wake you but if it makes you feel any better Hubert escorted me to the door this morning.” Marisol said laughing. “Always the gentlemen,” Kennedy chuckled. “But anyways, Kennedy I won’t be back for another couple of days. My parents have quite a bit of work cut out for me and I need some time to get everything sorted. But call me if you need anything or if you just want to talk.” “Thank you and same to you. I am so glad you are back Mari,” Kennedy said with a sad smile. “Me too. But look I gotta go mamacita. Talk to you later.” “Later,” Kennedy said as she ended the call. “Well Hubert it’s just me and you again today,” She said to the golden retriever who was too busy indulging himself in his food.

It was evening by the time Kennedy had found the resolve needed to head to the market which was a few blocks away. With Hubert leading the way, and her trusty cane, she was not all too concerned with the journey. All that she needed was a few things: some milk, bread, body wash and a couple of T.V. dinners and snacks and then she would be good to go. Dressed in some DKNY skinny jeans, a pair of black UGGS, and matching turtleneck and leather jacket she was good to go. She allowed her braids to hang loosely and she covered her eyes with a pair of dark sunglasses she bought at the mall a few years ago. She did not feel like “looking into the souls” of passerby’s along the way. She just wanted to get in and get out without any hassles-not that she was anticipating anything in particular but the point it she wanted to be inside before it was too late.

Of course Hubert was the center of attention in the local Safeway. All of the clerks knew him and random customers could not help being drawn to the laid back retriever. Hubert took all of the attention in stride and Kennedy could not be more proud. Once her groceries were paid for, she was out the door with Hubert leading the way. She was minutes away from her house when the catcalls started, and it was not long before she could sense the presence of more than one man looming behind her. “Hey baby, looking good tonight,” one shouted loud enough for the world to hear but close enough for her body to tense up. Hubert could sense her uneasiness and stopped where he was and turned around and growled and snarled at the assailants who simply laughed in devious glee. “Awww wook at da widdle doggee,” A man with a deep voice teased. “Baby girl wanna have some fun tonight?” Came another deep voice. Kennedy began to nervously tug at Hubert’s leash hoping for an easy retreat. “Its ok,” she said nervously. “We don’t want any problems.” Hubert’s barking became more incessant as she could sense the perpetrators move in closer. “Man fuck that dog,” one of the men snapped. “Get her!” Before she knew it she dropped her bags as one of the men kicked Hubert sending him whimpering. “Hubert!” She cried as she used her cane to swipe at the men. They laughed when they realized she couldn’t see where she was going. “This is going to be easy,” one man said as he grabbed ahold of her cane and snatched it out of her grip. Another came from behind and grabbed her by the waist when she heard the violent scream of another and sounds of flesh being torn from flesh. The man who grabbed her cane knocked her to the ground and she hit the pavement with a hard thud. “Hubert!” she called completely terrified and only slightly dazed. She cursed herself for being blind and she felt the familiar nuzzle of her wounded pet letting her know she was ok. “Hubert we have to get out of here.” But the dog wouldn’t move and when she tried to get up he used his 150 pound weight to sit on top of her to keep her down. She knew instinctively that Hubert was protecting her but she couldn’t help but wonder what made him do that. She could hear more screams and the crack and snap of bones being broken and she covered her ears. It felt like an eternity before Hubert got off of her and as she remained crouched low on the ground she felt another presence staring down at her. “Please don’t hurt me,” she whimpered. “I won’t,” came the silky deep voice of a man that sounded nothing like the perverts that attacked her. “My name is Damien,” he said. “Take my hand.” She reached up to the dark shadowy figure’s outstretched hand and he hoisted her up with no effort on his part. “Do you need medical assistance?” He asked with concern. “I-I-I-I’m ok,” she stammered. “Some punks attacked me and my dog and-“ “They shall hurt you no more. They are gone. Are these your groceries?” It took her a second to process that question. “Yes, yes they are. But could you hand them to me please? I am blind and-““ No need to explain. I can see that. I will gather them for you. Here,” Damien said handing her her cane and Hubert’s leash. “Here is your cane and your dog’s leash. You have a good dog. He is very brave. He risked his life for yours.” She gladly took the cane and his leash. “I owe him my life,” she said reverently. “How injured is he? I heard the bastard kick him.” She started to cry. Hubert nuzzled her, communicating that he was as shaken as she was but otherwise ok. “He is just fine. No visible injuries. I think he is just a little shaken but he is fine. Let me walk you guys home.” “No! That is fine,” she stammered. “We can take it from here…” “I can understand your apprehension but believe me if I wanted to hurt you I would have. I cannot walk away without making sure that you and Mr. Hubert are ok.” Damien gave her a minute to allow what he said to sink in and when it did, Hubert barked in agreement and she meekly gave him the ok with a slight nod. He grabbed both of her bags and motioned for Hubert to lead the way, in which of course of he did.

“By the way what is your name lovely lady?” Damien said as he walked side by side Kennedy the rest of the way to her home. “My name is Kennedy. Thank you so much for doing this.” “Where is your husband Kennedy?” “I am not married.” “Then where is your boyfriend?” “I don’t have one.” “Girlfriend?” Kennedy had to laugh at that one. “I’m not gay.” “Well lover?” “Uh no.” “Escort?” Kennedy laughed again. “Uh-uh.” “Confidante?” “It’s just me and Hubert in the world.” She said softly. “Oh, do you have any friends that could comfort you in this moment of crisis?” What an odd question, she thought. “Yes, but they are busy.” “I don’t think you should be alone.” Damien said plainly. “Yeah well, sometimes a person doesn’t have much of a choice.” “Well do you want me to call your family?” He said with increasing concern. Kennedy sighed. “My parents are dead. I have no one.” Hubert came to a stop right in front of her two story home. “Well this is it,” she said with a sigh. My parents are dead… Damien could not let that last statement go. She was really alone in the world. “This is your home? It looks quite lovely. I love brownstone houses…” Damien said unsure of what else to say. “Thank you. I guess the appropriate thing to do is to invite you in for some coffee. Hubert seems to have taken a liking to you. I guess he is as grateful as I am,” she smiled. And that is when he noticed her perfection: her smile. It was so big and welcoming and made him feel…whole. Strange. “I would love too,” he said with an all too big grin. “In exchange for your coffee I could help you put away your groceries.” Damien gently patted Hubert on the head. “Good boy,” he said to the dog who barked in acknowledgement. “You don’t have to do that. Once inside I know my way around and Hubert helps me. But, come in and have a seat.” Kennedy said as she dug for her keys and opened the door. Damien smiled brightly as he was thankful that she could not see blood stains on his powder blue top. He followed them inside and shut the door.

Blind Salvation Excerpt…

Damien

Damien sat parked in front of the monolithic mansion that happened to be his parent’s not so humble abode. Yes he was of royal blood but damn it was the only mansion of its size in Bridgewood. They would have been better off living in Beverly Hills where they would have been able to fit right in with the narcissistic and self- indulgent celebrities and plastic surgeons that took up residency in that superficial town. But his parents had an air of arrogance and regality that put even people like Kanye West and Kim Kardashian to shame. They insisted that they not even breathe the same air as those miserable and feeble minded humans. His father, who happened to be the King of their bloodline, even went as far as to threaten to eradicate every last one of those so called celebrities that lived within a 20 mile radius of their home. And so Bridgewood was the choice.

Of course, they had the mansion built a hundred years before Bridgewood blossomed into existence and simply made renovations to every decade or so to ensure that it is appropriately modernized. Flash-forward to present time, the Bridgewood Estate as it has been dubbed in the local paper had over a hundred rooms and every amenity known to human and vampire. Every once in a while some nosy reporter will come knocking at the gate demanding an interview with the owner only to either never be seen again or his memory scrubbed which has protected the family for centuries. Now, the mansion has become the focal point of many horror stories both published and produced on the big screen and sometimes Damien wished his family would just return to the Old Country where everything was simpler and less complicated.

Damien sighed. He was still hungry but after abandoning the blind woman to her own devices, he decided to just go home. He could eat there because his mother kept a room full of willing participants that would be more than happy to quench his thirst. His parents could not figure out why he felt the need to go out and hunt at all when their staff supplied them with everything they could ever need or want. But nothing could replace freedom. His thoughts went back to the blind woman and made a mental note to return the following night. He entered in the code to the gate and drove his very expensive 2015 custom painted blood red BMW in and went straight to the underground carport.

The underground carport was a quarter of a mile west onto the estate, beneath a row of various trees and greenery that made their back yard look like a damn forest. He parked into the discreetly marked driveway and pushed the button on his phone and became as still as a statue as he and his car slowly began to submerge into the ground. It was two minutes before his car was safely parked in the cavernous underground that looked more like one of those subway stations in New York. His father’s luxury car collection was parked down there along with his mother’s black Lexus. His sister’s car was the same model as his only hers was white and he unintentionally parked right next to hers. Great. Lucinda was home.

20 feet away was the elevator that took him straight to the first level of the big house. His room was on the third floor, way at the far end and overlooking the trees. He needed to get away from everyone and everything right now. It was simply one of those days. Or nights. Whatever. Once on the first level, he walked quickly in hopes of bypassing his father’s office only for his attempt to be thwarted when his father called his name. Begrudgingly, he went inside, dreading whatever it was father felt important enough to tell him. “Yes Father?” He said stepping foot into the immaculately kept room that was filled with books, a coffee table, a desk with a matching leather seat, desktop computer with a fax machine and colored printer. The color scheme was crimson and gold, his family’s colors and behind the desk sat the undisputed King: his father, Hadrian.

Hadrian was a menacing looking vampire and his looks matched his talents. His hair was kept in a long single braid and the color of a raven like Damien’s. Instead of dark blue, his eyes were an abysmal black and a long scar extended across his face from left eye to the right side of his jaw and whoever was fortunate enough to claim that victory was no longer walking this earth. He never retracted the four inch fangs that he used many a time to rip out the throats of enemies and prey and Hadrian, despite the deep scar still remained youthful. Even at 700 years, not a single white hair. He was as tall as Damien but his brawn was much wider and thickly muscled. He was a warrior back in his prime and which lead to the many disagreements that he had with his son. “I have made arrangements for you to marry Stefan’s daughter, Guinevere by next spring. It is time you started taking your role in life more seriously and the next step is to bring more strong vampires into the world by birth and not those pesky little night crawlers that for whatever reason keep popping up through your bite. I told you to be careful with that son…humans and their immune systems are weak and disease prone. We cannot have our food populations diminish because you can’t remember to kill them afterward.” Hadrien waited for Damien’s response and after it dawned on him what was being demanded from him Damien exploded. “I don’t want to marry that simple minded twit of a vampire! She has the personality of a rock and there is nothing we have in common. Why can’t you marry off Lucinda to some schmooze who is desperate for the throne-“ “You will marry Guinevere or suffer the consequences of failing to do so! By law you are to marry who I tell you to marry because you are our bloodline’s future king Damien! I should have married you off a hundred years ago. I think I have given you enough time to live as you want but you have responsibilities to attend to.” “I care not for the throne father and you know it.” Hadrian glared at his son who glared back. Damien could be as stubborn as him sometimes but this was serious. He would hate to have to punish his son for failing to follow his orders but unfortunately he knew that was what he was going to have to do. “You have 24 hours to come to a decision Damien and I expect it to be the right decision.” Damien stormed out of the office without another word. There was no way around his father. They could argue from sun up to sun down and nothing would change. His father’s word was final. Hadrian returned to his seat in front of the computer screen and continued responding to his emails without a second thought.

Damien marched down the winding corridors to another elevator that led to his room. Out of all the vampire females his father could have set him up with it had to be Stefan’s daughter? His father must have owed that tired old coffin a serious favor because Guinevere was at the bottom of the social barrel when it came to bloodlines. Sure she was easy on the eye with jet black hair that she wore hanging loosely to her waistline. Yes she had eyes that shown like emeralds and soft alabaster skin. But she was a fashion failure; all of that beauty and could not figure out what to do with it. And no grace to go with any of it. She barely uttered a word and was basically the laughing stock of his race and he was being forced to wed her? Damien shook his head. His father said he had 24 hours to come to a decision, so Damien figured it would be best to make the most of the 24 hours. But first he needed to feed. He made a quick right to one of the many rooms bypassing the servant quarters, then the kitchen and finally to his destination: the Blood Room. Yanking out a set of keys from his navy blue slacks that he bought from Nordstroms, he unlocked the door. On all four walls in the secluded room hung at least 30 humans of varying ages, races, and gender. They were barely alive, having only being fed though intravenously and some of them were slipping in and out of consciousness. In the beginning they were willing participants, until the realization that they would never see the light of day again and then terror struck and all hope dissipated. This was almost more cruel than stalking a victim and brutally sending them to their death. Waiting to die was much more torturous. He selected the Goth chick with the smeared dark make up and short black hair. Like the rest of them she was nude and semiconscious. Her body was not image perfect: she was disproportionate, and he could tell that she was not really meticulous when it came to personal hygiene. She had scars on both of her wrists from frequent cutting which made Damien not feel so guilty about what he needed to do. Not that he ever felt guilty about having to feed, but with this victim, he could tell that death was what she wanted. What she craved. And he was going to give it to her. He didn’t bother to unchain her, he bit her right where she hung. The strike was swift and hard and she screamed out in shock and horror awaking the other humans who were awaiting the same fate. They screamed and struggled against their chains in terror but to no avail. Once he was finished, he left the now dead Goth right where he found her. He ignored the panic stricken cries from the remaining 29 victims and wiped his mouth. He needed to freshen up first and then he would return to that two story flat where the blind woman and the dog resided.

New Novel Following The Family Curse: Blind Salvation

Chapter One

There was something about being blind that gave Kennedy an advantage that people with sight could not possess: the ability to see into people’s souls. It was a strange phenomenon really, and Kennedy had not been able to figure out what it was until her dying grandmother informed her that it was a gift to compensate for what had been stolen from her. Her sight. Kennedy was not totally blind. She was on the border of being legally blind. She could make out shapes, and shadows and some images but her eye sight could best be compared to a dim light: barely enough light to see what was in front of her but enough to prevent her from being surrounded in total darkness. And thankfully, she had her golden retriever, a guide dog, Hubert to help her along the way.

Sitting at the edge of a park bench located in the Downton area of Bridgewood, a mid-sized city barely noticeable on a map and yet, ironically loaded with stories of the supernatural, the abnormal and the twisted. California had hundreds of cities that made this enormous state what it was, but unlike Los Angeles, or even San Francisco where a nobody could become a somebody virtually overnight; where there was the superficial promise of glitz and glamor mixed in with the fear of the criminal element topped with the hustle and bustle of everyday life, Bridgewood had its own appeal. It is the city where SyFy channel producers probe for stories of the undead and ghastly apparitions; where the die-hard vampire fanatics took up residence and formed their own covens in hopes of a chance encounter with a blood sucker; where the outcasts come to find acceptance and where the spiritually dead seek Purgatory. And Bridgewood was her home.

Like every city, town and locale there of course were schools, hospitals, police and fire departments; bars and local eateries, homes for every income level; shopping centers, malls…etc… Bridgewood did have a couple of junior colleges and one university that had a well-respected nursing program: Bridgewood University. So, the city did have a sense of normalcy. However, the mysterious air of the paranormal cloaked the city like an invisible fog, and as much as Kennedy loved the city, she found herself wondering why her parents had decided to move here 30 years ago.

With Hubert plopped down comfortably at her feet, she took in what little visual she could muster from her surroundings. The sun had begun to set, in a slow descend beneath the horizon leaving a trail of orange and pink and purple as a promise of its return. Children were still laughing and playing even this late in the evening with the crisp Autumn chill penetrating her beige sweater causing her to slightly shudder. She listened to the playful sounds of children running and playing in their attempts to hold on to their remaining moments of childhood freedom. It was nice. Kennedy found herself wishing for a childhood of running, chasing, jumping, without fear of bumping into someone or something or worse. And, now as the approaching holidays made their presence known with the advertisement of Thanksgiving specials and Black Friday Deals, Kennedy remembered that she was now alone in the world. Her parents dead; family distant; no siblings and hardly any friends. Someone might be courteous enough to give her a call on Thanksgiving and Christmas but no invite. Her mother died from cancer and her father of a heart attack, possibly from grief, and all in the same year which was in 2009, five years ago. Moreover, it made no sense to wish for a childhood where at least her parents were alive and well when in the present she was utterly alone. She patted Hubert gently on his side indicating she was ready to go home. He barked in response and as she grabbed a hold of his leash, she reached for her walking stick and bid farewell to the park. She would not be returning.

The walk home was brief and uneventful. Hubert led the way because with the encroaching darkness the shadows bled into one which made the darkness seem- all consuming. She lived in the same two story flat that she grew up in. Fortunately both of her parents had been successful in real estate; and through their success accrued a vast amount of wealth that not only made her childhood comfortable and bearable but now which is what she survived off of. As a matter of fact they were the most successful African Americans in the business when they were alive. She did receive her monthly disability check which is what she used to pay for her basic expenses, but for anything indulgent she used what her parents had left her.

With little difficulty she retrieved her keys from her pocket and struggled just a little with gloved hands to open the door. Hubert barked and then pushed the door open making room for both of them to enter. Closing the door behind her and releasing Hubert’s leash she had a strange sensation that she was being watched but quickly shrugged it off. Hubert jumped onto the wall nearest the kitchen with his nose flicked the lights on. It was bright enough for her to not have to be entirely dependent on the dog. Hubert then ran upstairs and proceeded to do the same thing in every room in the house (including the bathroom) so that she could have some independence. “Good boy!” She praised as Hubert quickly returned panting heavily and nudging her gently for a scratch behind the ears. She continued to pet the dog until he had his fill of affection and then he turned around and strolled to his favorite place by the heater and plopped down on one of the many extra- large pillows she covered the living room floor with. Kennedy dropped her keys on the glass dining room table her parents had bought over a decade ago and removed her black and grey scarf, tossing it next to her keys. Running her fingers through her braided hair, she could not think of what to do next. Television was out of the question, she could barely see what was on the screen and she most definitely not listening to the radio. That made her feel antiquated. She sighed. “I need a life. I need a friend. I need SOMETHING!” Hubert barked as if to remind her that he was her friend, and she shook her head at the dog. “I love you Hubert,” she said feeling suddenly exhausted. “But some days I do not feel human.” Using her cane she took a seat on one of the three funny looking metal bar stools her mother purchased from one of those futuristic furniture stores and slipped her boots off. “I’ll be in the room Hubert,” she said to the dog who again barked in response as if to say “Ok.” Grabbing her cane she slid off of the stool and felt her way down the hall to what used to be her parent’s bedroom and collapsed on the King sized bed that they once used. “I need a change in my life,” she mumbled into the blankets. “A drastic change…” And little did she know that a drastic change was on its way.

Justice for Mike Brown…Or Just-Us for Mike Brown?

I decided to take a moment from working on my next novel to reflect on the Mike Brown decision. I am sure everyone in the United States has an opinion and are currently updating their Twitter and Facebook feeds with memes, rants, and well thought out ideas on the plight of the U.S. Justice system. As black people all across America struggle to wrap their minds around another defeat in the criminal justice system-the same system that is based off a set of laws or creeds that the U.S. forefathers sought to promote justice and equality for all while at the same time promoting slavery, I have to say my piece.

I will not go on a long tirade about the unfair plight that has plagued African Americans since our ancestors first touched the shores of the New World. No. America is capable of change-I have faith in that. What I will say in light of the Mike Brown case is that I do agree that African Americans (especially black men) possess an unfair advantage when it comes to justice in America. Most of us are born into impoverished communities that are burdened with drugs, violence, single parent households, piss poor school systems, and the like… Say what you want but that is the stone cold truth. Most African Americans in this country have felt the shackles of struggle: having to make a meal out of the meager options in the fridge; scrapping up change to buy diapers for an infant that the father refuses to support; having no clue how the light bill is going to get paid or having to simply rely on K-Mart’s layaway program just to make sure your kid has a decent Christmas.

And then, there is that image that American society holds over the heads of blacks; the same image that they use in the court system to determine the fate of a suspected drug dealer or prostitute or gang member…that hostile, violent image of a tall, dark skinned male with an unquenchable desire for evil or that hyper sexual black woman with the large assets and the bad attitude…Yes, you know what I am talking about. Those people. Those are the people that you fear. That you hate. But, you love to hear glamourized in rap songs and music videos and then ultimately defeated in the courtroom. Unfortunately, those are the same people that we (black folk) love to perpetrate; and because we have become that image that is used in the courtroom, that is the image that we are going to have to change.

We have to take responsibility for our own actions. For every action there is a reaction. We cannot always blame “The White Man” for issues that we help create. Instead of destroying our own communities we need to come together and use our own resources to rebuild them. We need to hold more discussions; and petition our government if we want to be heard. We cannot wait for one person or a single group of people to effect change: we as individuals have the power to do it. The power is no longer in the hands of the slave master but in the palms of the descendants of slaves; and we are still confined to the walls of a social slavery due to the constant and continuous division amongst ourselves. So, was justice served for Mike Brown? Yes. Because it is only Just-Us who has been for Mike Brown; it is Just-Us who victimize each other and whose mothers weep for sons who were Mike Brown. We have got to do better people. We have go to do better.

One Last Excerpt of “The Family Curse” Until the End of NaNoWriMo

Chapter 8

I really wish my mother would hurry up and come home…as a matter of fact, I have a big beautiful house in Malibu that I could go and relax in and here I am stuck in the house with a half vampire, a ghost, and a sibling who is in love with a fairy. How magical. I am feeling incredibly drained emotionally, and my aunts are doing their best to pretend that none of this has happened. Anya had went in her room I suppose to call Lucian; Aunt Brielle was in my mother’s room supposedly looking for something of great importance and Aunt Luna was pretending that she was interested in CNN’s current newsbreak. It had been almost two hours and I had not heard from Nino, but knowing him he would call me as soon as he handled whatever business he needed to handle and we would be back home making love until the sun came up and all would be right in the world. To be honest, Minerva was the least of my concerns at this point. I reached for my phone which I had placed on the brown coffee table that was heavily stacked with magazines when Aunt Luna glanced at me sympathetically. I really wanted to glower at her to let her know that I am still pissed off at her and everyone else, but then…I cannot be mad too angry with her. I sigh and shake my head. “I am sorry Aunt Luna,” I finally say, suddenly feeling exhausted. “Don’t be,” she said as she scooted closer to face me. “I would have been angry too. Hell, I was mad when I found out that Minerva had been blocking you and Anya’s memories. Your mother is hopelessly forgiving when it comes to Minerva…hell when it comes to anyone she loves. She asked Minerva to do it instead of going to Artemis like she should have because she was scared that you and Anya would suffer the consequences of her…mistake.” “Mistake?” I asked slightly indignant. “Not a mistake in the sense that you and Anya should have never been born; a mistake in the fact that she married a human and conceived children by this human. Your mother is goddamn goddess! There is a heavenly order that immortals are not supposed to intermingle with humans. Period. Your mother violated that order and for that your father paid the price. She was scared that you and Anya would be next, but Artemis was merciful and the only thing she did was strip your mother of her title. Your mother is no longer the Goddess of the Moonlight but she still maintains all rights and privileges of the position.” I held my Aunt’s thoughtful gaze and realized that I owed my mother a serious apology. I owed everyone in here a serious apology. But, there was one thing I needed to know. “How did you become a half vampire?” Aunt Luna looked away and her shoulders slumped as if in defeat before returning her gaze to me. “Minerva was jealous because I had found favor with the god Helios who granted me the opportunity to become an immortal. I had returned an item that had was stolen from one of his temples that was of great value to him and in return he gave me immortality. He did not make me a god like Selene but he felt it unfair that two of my sisters could live on forever and I could not. He said when the last one dies then I will with her and he graced me with immortality. Minerva was already disgruntled about being jilted twice and when she found out that I too had received the gift, she cursed me to live the life that she felt I actually deserved: vampire. But, Helios corrected that somewhat. Gods do not have much power to reverse curses, they can only undo some damage. Being that he is the god of the sun, he made it so that I could still walk in the day and that I would not be subject to the aversion of silver, and a stake through the heart could not harm me…but he could not undo the bloodlust. He did however, say that Minerva would never see forever; that the very thing she tried to corrupt me with would be her undoing.” ‘A vampire would kill her?” And I know exactly who that vampire might be. Nino. “Yup. That is why she hopes to drain you and Anya of your powers so that she may be invincible.” “Have you seen Helios since then?” I inquire. I need to talk to Nino. “Well, he visits from time to time. He and Aphrodite have their own modeling agency which has been quite the success. He has even invited me to come visit them in the south of France during the summer. I think I might take them up on their offer. “Aunt Luna,” I say, still debating on whether or not I should reveal to her what I feel I have to reveal. “Oh hell you have that same suspicious look your mother gets when she is about to drop a bomb on me. What is it?” That is when I proceed to tell her everything about Nino, his family and his plans for ending his curse. I told him his version of Ambrogio and my mother and when I was done Aunt Luna’s jaws had dropped so I thought it would hit the floor. “Does your mother know?” she asked in pure shock and disbelief. “Not the part about Nino wanting to kill Minerva.” “Well then we have a problem then.” She said rubbing her chin indicating that she was in deep thought. “And what’s that?” I ask nervously. “If Nino is successful in killing Minerva that means not only does she die but he dies too…” The thought of losing Nino was enough to make me panic. But, then there was the sudden realization. “Aunt Luna, what happens if a vampire feeds from an immortal?” Aunt Luna eyed me suspiciously. “What the hell are you saying?” “I think you know what it means….” “Fuck Rita are you insane?! Do you know what you have done? Helios, Artemis, and every god still in existence may come out of hiding and put an end to you, your mother, me, and the rest of the family!” Brielle, upon hearing my dear Aunt Luna’s outburst came bursting out of my mom’s room with Anya in tow. “What is the matter?” Aunt Brielle asked clearly panicked. “Your niece allowed a vampire to feed from her and now we may have a problem.” I could have sworn when Aunt Brielle gasped she sucked in all of the air in the room and before releasing it back into the atmosphere. “Have you any idea what you have done?” Aunt Brielle exclaimed. ‘Your mother is petitioning Artemis right now as we speak and knowing her, she knew it the moment it happened. So, now we have no idea what the consequences of that foolish decision will be until Selene comes back in one piece!” “Listen, if the gods are no longer in position to rule over humanity like they once were, the only thing they are responsible for is themselves. And, if by chance Artemis decides she has a problem with it she can come see ME!” “Rita-“ “No, don’t Rita me,” I snap. “Nino needs my help. He has to know so-“ “You would betray your own flesh and blood for him?” Aunt Brielle asked incredulously. “How the hell is it betrayal when the same flesh and blood wants to drain you of your powers?” I demand. “Now look,” I continue. “We just can’t sit around and wait on the great and powerful Artemis to-“ My phone began to vibrate. It was a text from my beloved Nino. It read:

Whatever you do, do not go out at night. I have to find Ambrogio. Do not call me until I tell you it is safe.

Love Always, Nino.

I text him back:

I miss u babe. My blood makes you immortal. Call me.

I wait for him to respond but after a few minutes of nothing, I can tell that he is not going to. Both of my aunts and my sister are looking at me silently waiting for answers. “He is going to look for Ambrogio. He needs my help.” “Well you can’t leave,” Aunt Brielle said firmly with her arms folded across her chest. “Your mother pretty much barricaded us in.” “Who is Ambrogio?” Anya asked nervously. Unfortunately, I did not have the energy to explain everything all over again. “I have to get out of here,” I say shaking my head. My mother cannot expect me to stay locked in her house until Artemis sees fit to release her. The clock was ticking. “Your mother’s wards are too strong. You will not be able to cross the threshold of the door without being electrocuted,” Aunt Luna pleaded. “Hmmmm,” I say as I rise from the comfort of the recliner and make my way to the front door with everyone in tow. “Rita! I have seen what happens when someone crosses the wards!” Aunt Brielle cries out. “You do forget I am my mother’s daughter,” I say refusing to break my stride. “Rita STOP!” Aunt Luna grabs me by my shoulder, spinning me around to face her. Her face is lined with panic, anger and frustration. “You cannot leave! Even if you are successful in crossing the barrier you will be putting yourself at risk. Minerva is looking for you; what part of that do you nor understand? You are a fledgling goddess. You have no clue on what your abilities are or how to use them.” Now that got my attention. “I am damn near thirty years old and it was not until Friday that I learned that I am not 100% human. The least either of you could do is educate me on exactly what type of demi god I am so I have an idea on what to expect from myself. I know my powers are connected to my moods and can light up a room with almost as much power as the sun if provoked. It was not until Friday that I knew vampires existed; and it was not until Saturday that I could live forever. I am already growing tired of the daily surprises, and whether you like it or not I am walking outside that door. Spare me at least one.” Aunt Brielle and Aunt Luna glanced at each other, appearing to sense defeat and it was Aunt Brielle that spoke first. “You and Anya are the most powerful of the demi gods that still walk this earth. But, you Rita have something that your mother has tried to keep hidden. You have the ability to manipulate time. You can stop it and restart it at your will but it is only temporary. Still, it is the most powerful weapon in your arsenal. Both of you can manipulate the light, control the moon’s gravity, manipulate reflections and even call whatever is being reflected in a mirror into being. You can control the tide, which makes you a dangerous entity when near water. The individual gift that you possess is Time manipulation; like I said earlier, Anya can manipulate people’s emotions. But, the there is a theory that the two of you combined…would be unstoppable.” But, the theory is that the two of you combined would be unstoppable, I replay my aunt’s words in my mind as they stare at me intently; desperate to know what I was thinking and what make next move is. I scan their faces searching for answers to questions I do not even have yet. I love my aunts; I love my mom but fate has forced its hand on me. I know it sounds selfish, but I have to do what is best for me and what is best for me is the life of the one man in the world who loves me unconditionally. He is looking for a way to reverse the curse; but in searching for that answer may result in him having to sacrifice his own life. I cannot live without Nino, especially knowing that we could have an eternity together. I look over at my sister, Anya who is nervously poking at her freshly manicured nails. She catches my gaze and I smile. “Come with me Anya,” I said stretching my hand to her for her to take. “No! I told you what you wanted to know and since it is obvious that there is nothing I can do to stop you fine. But, you are not taking your sister with you on a suicide mission!” Aunt Brielle slapped my hand away and stepped in front Anya as she were body shielding her from some mysterious threat. I guess that threat is me. “Come on Anya,” I say ignoring Aunt Brielle’s protests. “I understand if you want to stay, but I need you. I would do the same thing for you if Lucien were in trouble.” “No Anya don’t you do it! Don’t you do it!” Aunt Luna had become so irate and upset that her fangs had dropped and her pupils flashed a tinge of blood red coloring that had not been there before. “What the fuck are you going to do if you are attacked by vampires? Huh? They can smell you a mile away! If something happens to either of you there will most definitely be a war. Your mother will raze the earth seeking vengeance! And what do you think she will do to-“ “Alright,” Anya said softly, sneaking her head around Aunt Brielle’s protective body block and catching my gaze. I smile victoriously. Anya smiles back and makes a dash for her keys and slips her sandals back on and finds herself once again body blocked by Aunt Brielle. “WHAT?! NO! Anya, you stay right here.” Aunt Brielle commanded, her body losing its transparency with each raise in octave. So, it was true: my Aunt Brielle is a spirit without a body. “Aunt Brielle,” I said carefully. “Anya and I have to go. This is what I have to do and my sister has made her choice. I love you both but I just can’t sit here and wait for something tragic to happen.” Both of my aunts’ shoulders slumped in defeat. “You are going to put your life at risk for what? How are you going to defend yourself against the dark magic of a witch as ancient as Minerva? Huh? What are you going to do?” Aunt Luna demanded. “You said so yourself that between the two of us”, I said taking my sister’s hand and leading her to the door. “We are unstoppable. Tell my mom I love her.” Anya tightens her hold on my hand as we look back at our anger stricken aunts and then at the front door. I turn my head to face her and ask, “Are you ready?” Anya just nods her head and closes her eyes as I grab the doorknob and swing the door open. Once we cross the threshold I can feel the heat being emitted from the invisible barrier attempting to do more than just singe the surface of skin. And my first thought was right. We are our mother’s children. We are outside and on the grass unscathed. “Now what?” Anya quizzed glancing around nervously and fiddling with her hair. “You have your car right?” I ask scanning the driveway for her car only to find Aunt Luna’s Jaguar and Aunt Brielle’s Prius parked outside of the garage. “Yeah, I parked down the street.” Anya replied as she began to lead the way to her Mini Cooper. I turn to look back at my mother’s house and I could still see the silhouettes of my aunts possibly arguing back and forth about how they were going to break the news to my mother explaining how they let two grown demi gods out of their grasp. Mom was definitely going to be pissed off. But, one day she would understand. It isn’t like we don’t have eternity.

Miss Jenkins Books

Where Magic and Melanin are One

Tag: AuthorDelizhia