Shadows in Blood (The Immortal Trials Book 3) Page 3

  Okay, that wasn’t creepy.

  “What I am?”

  Money hadn’t been an object since working for Isla. She paid me more than she should. For whatever reason, probably my nerves, I asked how much the telling would cost.

  “For you, child, nothing.”

  “Why not?”

  Celeste folded her hands in front of her. “Because you are hope.”

  Each sentence that came out of her mouth escalated the weird factor, but I had to admit I was curious. “Hope for what?” I had expected her to gaze into the crystal ball, pick up the tarot cards, or reach for my palm. Instead, she only sat there with an expression of adoration, pity, or concern on her tanned face. I couldn’t tell which.

  “Trust will be you’re only ally.”

  Her explanation did nothing to clear whatever message she was trying to convey.

  Celeste picked up a petal that had fallen from one of the dead roses. Gently, she laid it in her palm. Unexpectedly, she snapped her fist closed and crushed the dried petal, making me jump. “This is what’s happening to you.”

  More than freaked out, I got up to leave. I didn’t need any more witchy predictions or another person telling me I was going to die. There were already plenty of those in my life. It was her next words that made my breath catch in my throat. I fell back into the chair.

  “The moment you removed your protection was the instant your death became imminent.” She opened her palm to let the crushed rose fragments flutter onto the table.

  Even though I’d already known this, I hated the words vibrating through the air. The candle on the table flickered out. Heat tore through my hand, and the candle’s wick flickered back to life.

  “Your powers are still growing. There is dark, and then there is only darker,” she said. Her voice had dropped to a deep whisper. It was even and without emotion.

  “What happens now?”

  Her eyes rolled into her head, only the whites showing. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

  “Celeste—”

  As her gaze fell back on me, she looked different—possessed. When she spoke, it was obvious it was no longer her. The voice was deep like a man’s.

  “You have many who need you, and those needs are costly.”

  I had to assume she—he—was talking about the immortals needing my life for their own. Air… I needed air. When I stood up, the chair fell to the floor behind me. I ripped through the black curtain into the waiting room, then pushed the door open into the late afternoon sun.

  “Shade,” someone called as I raced out of the psychic’s shop toward The Warlock’s Workshop.

  Pausing, I pivoted around, fists unconsciously clenched and breath coming out in gasps. Raiden jogged across the courtyard toward me. Relief, fear, and dread all flooded me at the same time.

  Before he’d even come to a stop, he asked, “What’s wrong?” His dark eyes quickly swept over me before narrowing on my face.

  I hated how well he seemed to read me. There was no hiding what I had tried to ignore all day. Crying seemed like the only thing left to do. “Everything,” I said.

  “What happened?”

  I swiped at the tears streaking my face. “What hasn’t happened?” I hadn’t intended for my voice to sound hysterical, but it was all catching up to me. I shook my head, unsure if I wanted to open the gate.

  “Everly, look at me.”

  I couldn’t meet his gaze for fear he would see through me.

  “Everly,” he cooed, lifting my chin with two fingers. I’d barely raised my eyes to his before he spoke again, “You haven’t eaten, have you?”

  Knowing he wasn’t talking about actual food, I shook my head. “I’m starving, Raiden. The pain is so excruciating I want to scream,” I whispered. “When will it end? Please tell me it’ll be soon. I can’t take much more of this never-ending insatiable craving.” The tears fell, and I didn’t bother trying to wipe them away.

  Raiden took my hand, tugging me toward the alley.

  4

  The building cast the alley into dark shadows. Raiden eased my back against the wall, then pressed his body against me. I dropped my bag to the ground. The scorched sensation in my throat was too much to bear. His arms wrapped around my waist. There was nowhere for me to go. I was trapped in his embrace. He lowered his head to mine. Our faces were so close we had no choice but to share our breaths.

  Raiden pulled back slightly, just enough to release one of his arms from around me. Raising his hand to his mouth, he bit into the tender skin at his wrist. The scent of blood fanned around me. Every cell tingled with desperate anticipation and need. I was sure my eyes mirrored his, the ring around my irises becoming prominent. Sharp pricks of delighted pain caught my bottom lip as my teeth descended.

  He brought his wrist up to my mouth, trickles of blood running down his pale skin. I cradled his hand in my own, pulling it all the way to my open lips. When I licked away the two thin lines of blood, my body immediately responded to the warm liquid. I needed more. Closing my mouth over the bite marks, I sucked his soft flesh. Blood flowed into my mouth, coating my tongue and throat as I swallowed. Desperately, I pulled more and more into my mouth. Each time, it brought me closer to the brink of something marvelous and wicked.

  “Everly, that’s enough,” he whispered from a far-off place.

  My head screamed, More! More! More!

  There was never going to be enough to satisfy the hunger taking over my entire being.

  He unclasped my restraining fingers from around his hand. “Enough, Everly,” he growled. Pulling free, he stepped away from me. My back hit the wall behind me.

  I fell to my knees on the ground. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I cried. I patted my chest. “There’s this need inside. It’s vengeful, dangerous, and agonizing. I don’t know how to control it.” It had been a repeat of the first time he let me drink from him. I couldn’t stop then—hadn’t known how to—and nothing had changed this time.

  Raiden knelt next to me, then pulled me into his arms. He gently pushed the hair away from my face. “I know. Its pull is more powerful than any of the other gifts. Well, except maybe shifting. That one—so I’ve heard—is the hardest to master.” He shook his head. “That’s not what you have to fight to control, so it doesn’t matter. As far as you and me, and others like us are concerned, we’ll die if we don’t give it what it wants. If we don’t bow down to the need, the mad desire constantly coursing through us will kill us.”

  What did it matter? I was already dead.

  “I thought you said if I drank blood, I would be able to control my craving for it.”

  “That’s in time.”

  My hopes fell. “Oh… I thought it was going to be more immediate.”

  “Listen, if you haven’t killed anyone by now, I’d say you’re doing a damn good job.”

  I slapped his arm. “Not funny.”

  “I’m serious.”

  The craving for blood was satiated… for now. Resting my head on his shoulder, I whispered, “Thank you, Raiden.”

  Mina’s timing couldn’t have been worse. She came around the corner, then parked her bike at the entrance of the alley. Her head popped up when my keys fell out of my pocket. Pretty blue eyes slanted into slits of fury and perplexity as she glared at us. Her back went rigid at the sight in front of her—the guy she had a major crush on and her so-called best friend huddled together in the alley’s shadows. What else could she believe other than—they totally have a thing for each other, and I’ve been played for a complete fool?

  Easing off Raiden’s lap, I stayed on my knees.

  Raiden came to a standing position. He took a few steps toward Mina. “Hey, listen…”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, cocking out her hip. “Well, I’m not sure if I’m surprised or not.”

  I hated the mockery and sarcasm in her tone. “This is—is not what…” Helplessly, I stared at Raiden before turning back to Mina. “It’s not what it looks like,” I sputtered. Like that was going to be convincing. “Mina—” I stood and walked a few steps in their direction.

  She held up her hand. “Don’t! This is exactly what it looks like. You tried to make a move on my boyfriend. Shallow guy that he is—he fell for it.”

  I elbowed Raiden hard in the side. The scent of blood was still strong within the three walls surrounding us. I wondered if Mina would pick up on the smell.

  “Uh!” A whoosh of air escaped his lungs. He brushed off his pants. “Mina—listen…”

  Raiden didn’t have a chance to finish before she stormed off in the opposite direction. When he reached the mouth of the alley, he pivoted toward me. “She’s gone.”

  Hurt was etched into his face. I could tell he truly had feelings for her, which I hadn’t been sure of until now. It made my heart swell, then break in two. There had to be a way to make this right. I just hoped it wouldn’t come to the point I’d have to admit I was part vampire, or confess the small fact that her boyfriend had become my personal blood bank.

  As much as I wanted to go after her, it wasn’t the right moment. Mina needed time to calm down, and I had to come up with an excuse that didn’t involve blood or the use of her boyfriend.

  “Raiden, let’s just leave it for now. She’s fuming, and we’re not in a place where we can logically defend ourselves—especially with what she saw. Hell, I was in your lap.”

  Shoulders slumping, he sighed. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

  Coming back to me, he held out his hand. I took it.

  “Raiden—”

  He cut me off. “I know—we have to make this right.”

  I half-laughed. “Yeah, we do.”

  Releasing my hand, he backed away. “Listen, the next time you have the
urge, you need to find a way to either suppress it or find an outlet. Other than me, I mean. Grab a passing squirrel or bunny, and drink it dry.”

  “That’s disgusting!”

  His shoulders rose and fell. “Yeah, well. We were all there once.”

  He had piqued my curiosity. “We? Who’s we?”

  Raiden shrugged. “Actually, there are a few people I’d like you to meet.”

  The air around me stilled, turning as silent as death. “A few—”

  “Yeah, my sisters.”

  I froze in place as his words penetrated me. The worried expression on my face must have been clear because he started to rationalize why he felt I needed to meet these other blood-suckers. Apparently, he wanted me to hear their reasons as to why I should die for their lives.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  Slowly, he walked back to me. “You aren’t going to have a choice, Everly. They are on their way to Veil Rock.”

  My sixth sense screamed to stay as far away from them as possible, but I had no idea why. I trusted Raiden—to a point, anyway. The line between us was thin. All I could do was hope these extended family members were more like him than Kelios.

  “Raiden, I’m not on display in some sick freak show.”

  He titled his head. Through unsmiling lips, he said, “I know, but you’re still a freak.” Turning away, he threw, “Call me if you need me,” over his shoulder.

  Then, he was gone.

  “Stupid asshole,” I muttered.

  Following him out of the alley, I paused at the entry. There was no sign of Mina. The sun had dipped further into the burnt horizon over the desert. Making my way to my scooter, I decided to go home. It’s what I should have done in the first place. The psychic, Raiden, Mina… they all could have been avoided if I had just gone home.

  Driving the quarter mile or so, I thought about Mina. How would she ever be able to understand that Raiden wasn’t anything other than a friend? The answer was right there, but facing it was too dangerous. If I told her about me, that would leave Raiden exposed. I couldn’t do that to him.

  Home became a second thought when I saw the church. I needed help. Pulling off Blood Bird’s Way into the church’s parking lot, I turned off the engine in front of the massive wooden doors. A laminated sign was taped to them.

  Father Briar welcomes you to join him on Sunday at 11:00 for service.

  “What the hell?” Probably wasn’t the most proper thing to say in front of a church. More importantly, who the hell was Father Briar? Retrieving my cell phone, I called Macias. He answered on the third ring.

  “Hello, Everly.”

  “What’s going on? Who is this Briar guy?”

  His long sigh did nothing to calm me. Whatever he had to say, I wasn’t going to like it.

  “I should have told you, but the guilt you carry with you is already too great. I didn’t want to add—”

  “So, you quit because of the curse.” It wasn’t a question. “Why shouldn’t I feel guilty?” Today sucked hard. I propped my elbow on the gas tank, then lowered my head into my hand.

  “Everly, you have more than enough to handle. You have to understand that it was inevitable. People are going to start asking questions about why my flesh is rotting. Soon, they’ll think I have a disease. The last thing I want to do is draw attention to myself.”

  “Where are you?”

  There was shuffling on the other end of the line before he spoke again. “Not far. I won’t leave you to deal with what’s coming by yourself. After the Hunter’s Moon, I will find a new town to move to… if I make it that long.”

  Closing my eyes, I asked again, “Where are you?” He had to know I wasn’t going to give up.

  “In the trailer park in the desert.” He rattled off the house number and street name.

  I mentally noted it. “I’m coming over.”

  “Everly, no. You don’t have to.”

  Ignoring him, I asked, “Do you need me to bring you anything?”

  “No,” he said sharply. If he was trying to make his tone a deterrent, it wasn’t working.

  I pressed the end button. Just as I started the scooter, one of the church doors opened. The gut of a man appeared before the rest of his body as he stepped onto the stoop. His breath caught when he saw me.

  His mouth opened, then snapped shut. Dark eyes set into a puffy red face studied me for a moment. “It’s you,” he chided.

  My brows furrowed with confusion. “Me, who?”

  He ran his hand through thick graying hair. “The girl who’s set to die during the Hunter’s Moon.”

  The words were like a kick to my stomach. Was he a protector like Macias? Shaking away the shock of his pronouncement, I stared him dead in the eyes. Instead of arguing or playing stupid, I fessed up. “You know this how?”

  His pursed lips did not open to give me an answer. Without taking his eyes from me, he tucked his bulky frame inside the doorway, disappearing into the church. The finality of a lock clanked into place.

  5

  Equally annoyed and perplexed, I mounted my scooter and left. The sun was almost settled into the horizon. Deep pinks and purples painted the sky. Thankfully, Macias’ house was only about five minutes away from the church. The list of questions in my head had grown from a few to a hundred. Turning onto Blood Bird’s Way, I made the very next right onto Tyrant’s Trail, the only road that led in and out of the trailer park. As small as Veil Rock was, this was my first time in the neighborhood.

  Slowing on the residential road, I was able to take in the view on both sides of the street. A few of the modular homes carried the theme of how I pictured trailer parks in my head and how they were depicted on TV—outdoor green carpet, pink plastic flamingos, paint-chipped garden gnomes, metal awnings, and white plastic picket fencing. Most were decorated—exactly like Aunt Juju’s—with skulls, paraphernalia that supposedly warded off evil, and black stakes jabbed into the desert sand, edged along pebble paths.

  The preacher’s house was at the end of the road on the left. His, unlike most of the others, appeared vacant. Sand surrounded the singlewide, faded yellow trailer. The windows either had awnings held up with only one metal arm or none. I leaned the scooter against the aluminum house. There was no walkway to the side screened porch, which I assumed was the entrance. Making my way to the screen door, I spotted a small gargoyle statue propped on a flat stone.

  Just the mere glimpse of it brought a stabbing ache to my chest. Dragan’s gargoyle shifter side was beautiful. He had saved my life twice with those glorious wings. Shaking away the pain, I opened the screen door. The front door opened. Macias stood on the threshold. I wanted to close my eyes to shut out the sight before me, but I couldn’t disrespect him that way.

  “You look different,” Macias said as he moved aside to let me enter.

  Unsure of what he meant, I didn’t reply as I passed by. Once inside, I studied his face and arms. His appearance was much different, too, but I wasn’t about to be mean and tell him. He was getting worse by the day. Raw sores now covered his forehead and cheeks. A little piece of me died each time I saw him, but it also renewed my endeavor to fight against the ones who had done this to him.

  The light from the outside dimmed as he shut the door. Dingy gray walls were the backdrop to the depressingly bleak small living area. A worn brown recliner chair and a cheap tilting side table occupied the space. An empty beer bottle and a remote control were set on the tabletop.

  “Welcome to my new digs. What do you think?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “Charming. Although, I think a picture or two may help.”

  “You’re funny.” Macias knew me well enough not to take offense to my sarcasm. He went to a small closet, coming out with a folding chair. Setting it up, he motioned for me to sit. I did, then placed my bag in my lap.

  Blackout paper shades covered the windows. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought he was turning into a vampire instead of rotting away due to the curse the Whites Ones had put on him.

  He took his rightful place in the recliner, where I assumed he spent most of his time. Then, quickly rising to his feet, he said, “Where are my manners? Would you like a glass of water or something?”

  I shook my head. “No, thanks.”