Black Blood (2 page)

“All in good
time. I kind of like holding this mystery over you. It’s good
payback for the secret you kept from me.”

“I didn’t have
a choice!” Gemma’s protest was cut short by Harrison’s laughter.
“Please tell me.”

“Good night,
Gemma.”

“It’s not some
pathetic line from a movie that you’ve just said in Italian to make
it sound all sexy and romantic is it?”

He chuckled.
“Sleep well.”

And then the
line was dead. She rolled onto her back and let out a snort. The
first time he’d said those words to her, she’d been lying in a
hospital bed recovering from two arrow wounds. She’d been too
exhausted to fight for their meaning. The second time, she’d been
way past her curfew, so didn’t have time to argue. She had tried
looking it up online, but didn’t know how to spell the sounds and
she didn’t want to ask her mother, who did speak Italian, as she
could do without the raised eyebrows. As it was, her parents were
not thrilled one iota about her boyfriend and the fact a normal
human knew the family secret.

Ever
since puberty it had been drummed into her that breaking the oath
of secrecy was a cardinal sin. Telling normal people that her
family were capable of traveling back in time put their lives in
danger. Gemma had lived her life under that cloud of fear and then
she’d met Harrison. She had pushed him away initially, like she did
everyone, but he had crawled under her skin and embedded himself in
her heart.

Then he’d seen
her leaving one day, swirling into a cloud of gold dust and
returning five minutes later, naked as a newborn. Her cheeks burned
with humiliation as she remembered hiding behind the cleaning cart
in the janitor’s closet as he clutched her clothes in shock. She’d
had to tell him everything after that and it had been the biggest
relief of her life.

Gemma had felt
a pull towards Harrison the moment she looked into his eyes.
Telling him her big secret had given her the freedom to let him tug
her in. He’d given her the gift of hope. Ironically the only thing
that was tearing at that hope, with razor sharp nails, were the
only other people she loved… her family.

Dominic and
Ruby had come to terms with her relationship with reluctant
enthusiasm. They thought Harrison was a nice enough guy, but still
didn’t like the fact he knew. Her parents on the other hand were
openly hostile to the point that he never ventured north to see
her.

At least they
were allowing her to date Harrison, but the restrictions were
tight. Gemma tried to abide by the rules for the sake of peace, but
it was a daily battle of wills. She hated the fight, but Harrison
was worth it. He was her other half and they would be together no
matter the consequences.

A set of
piercing eyes burned the corners of her brain, the imminent warning
begging to break through.

“I’m not
Decimus,” she repeated rolling to her side and curling into a ball.
“I’m not.”

Chapter
Two

St Augustine, Florida – 2011 AD

Harrison
squinted against the sun as he sauntered towards the rumbling
engine that had just pulled up to the garage. He had heard it
coming and felt his heart accelerate. With nimble fingers Gemma
undid the buckle of her helmet and ripped it off to let her long,
dark locks roam free down her back.

Man, you are
beautiful.

He was still in
awe of the fact he had scored such an amazing girl. The first time
he’d looked into those green eyes he’d been a goner. They had been
dating just on six months now and as he approached the beaming
smile in front of him, he couldn’t imagine life any other way.

“Good morning,
gorgeous,” he mumbled against her lips.

“Hey.” She
returned the kiss with a blush, the birthmark on her collarbone
pulsing to appearance.

He ran his
thumb over the star shaped mark and smiled. The blemish only showed
with strong emotion and the indicator was a great ego boost. He was
about the only thing that could really make it shine. She hated her
emotio–meter.

“Shining
again?” She tried to cover the mark with her hand. “Ugh, it’s
so…”

“Beautiful?” He
kissed the mark on her collarbone, before stepping back to allow
her room to get off her bike.

“Hey, Gemma!”
Bryan’s voice boomed across the yard.

She lifted her
hand in a shy wave as she watched the mammoth man approach her,
arms outstretched. She allowed him to lift her off the ground in a
bear hug, hiding her awkwardness with the grace of a pro.

“Nice to see
you, Bryan.”

“
You too,
kid. Thanks for bringing the bike.” He ruffled her hair like she
was a five-year-old.

“Bryan.”
Harrison stepped in to rescue her.

She shot him a
grateful smile before shoving her hands in her back pockets and
turning to face the garage. She took a moment to admire the large
sign that was the latest addition to Bryan's small business.

Chatsworth
Classic Cars.

It stood
proudly above the establishment, forest green with bold red
writing. The building was a simple complex, space enough to be
working on two cars at once with a large yard space for cleaning.
Bryan was determined to have the cars shining by the time they
drove off the lot. He had started with simple repairs and
maintenance, but was heading towards sales. One of Harrison’s jobs
this su
mmer was to hunt
and gather run-down classics for restoration.

Bryan
Chatsworth’s business was small, but Harrison could sense the
interest starting to grow. Last week they had had a customer drive
all the way from Orlando, wanting his car serviced by a specialist.
His stepfather’s high standards were paying off. Harrison was
making an extra effort not to get frustrated with his
fastidiousness. It was weird, in everything else he could be a
complete slob, but when it came to cars, it had to be perfect.

“So, where do
you want me, Bryan?” Gemma’s face was sparkling. Her parents had
never allowed her to have a job before. He knew for a fact that she
had put up such an astounding fight over this one they had had no
choice but to back down. Ruby’s descriptions of the showdown had
been enlightening.

Anyone who knew
the Hart family would know that money was not an issue. The fact
her parents bought her a Ducati for her sixteenth birthday was
proof enough. This job was about Gemma spending the summer with her
boyfriend. Harrison could only imagine how much the idea must have
rankled her parents. He hoped he hadn’t made it too hard for her at
home. She never complained about it, but he could see the toll of
war. She often looked tight with stress when she arrived to see
him. The meeting with that man on the beach hadn’t helped
either.

His stomach
twisted as he thought about her standing alone, listening to some
stranger spout off about how she was a pure one, whatever that
meant. Gemma hadn’t exactly been forthcoming with her explanation
and she’d pretty much refused to talk about it.

How the hell
did the guy even know her?

He wished he
could have been beside her, protecting her, giving the guy a piece
of his mind. He slid his hand around the small of Gemma’s back as
she listened to Bryan’s instructions. As angry as he was at the man
for ambushing her, he had a feeling that his message was important.
He had been trying to persuade Gemma for over a month to give the
guy a call, but she was standing firm. She didn’t want to heed any
warnings about her future. Harrison could only hope that she wasn’t
turning a blind eye to something dire. He determined to keep her as
close as possible over the summer. If trouble did catch up with
her, he was going to be there.

The morning was
spent retuning the engine of a 1950s Corvette Roadster. As his
hands became embedded with grease, he listened to the sound of
Rosie and Gemma’s hysterical laughter as they cleaned and buffed
the red paint of a 1969 Mach One Mustang. Lifting his head from
beneath the hood, his lips quivered with laughter as his younger
stepbrother, Justin, stomped into the garage, his clothes sodden
and his face livid.

Harrison
quelled his chuckle after a death ray was fired his way.

“Get a little
wet, Just?”

A low
growl reverberated from the pubescent teen as he stalked past.
Harrison cringed as the bathroom door shuddered to a close, no
doubt bruised after its brutal throw back. Wiping his hands with
the grimy rag from his back pocket he sauntered into the sunshine
and was greeted with a delightful sight. His mother, her head
thrown back in laughter, had her arm around Gemma’s shoulders.
Rosie was on the other side, thoroughly saturated, her blonde
pigtails swishing.

He stopped to
admire the scene. Gemma had tried to resist his family’s
envelopment, but had been unable to counter it. Her walls of
self-defence had crumbled after her hospital stay. His family had
been so worried about her. As she had recovered from her “stab”
wounds, they had wrapped her within their net of safety. She had
been unable to fight it. Not that she’d tried very hard.

Harrison
loved the development. More than anything he wanted his mother to
see why he adored Gemma so much. He just wished Gemma’s parents
would feel the same way about him. He had been trying to subtly
wheedle his way into her family, but the roadblocks were firmly
erected and he wasn’t quite brave enough to smash his way through.
Dom and Ruby had definitely lightened up. They had all gone to the
movies together a couple of weeks ago and had a great time, but
when it came to Gemma’s parents he may as well not exist. To them
he was a virus that was tearing their family apart. He knew they
were trying to find the perfect pesticide to get rid of him, but so
far Gemma had stood firm. Alistair and Penelope Hart just didn’t
get it. Their daughter loved him as much as he loved her and
nothing was going to change that.

He sensed
Gemma’s eyes on him and looked up to greet her gooey gaze. They
silently sent a few words of affection before he watched her face
crease with disappointment. Untangling herself from her co-worker
and the “lunch lady,” she excused herself to the bathroom. Harrison
ran his hand down her arm as she passed him, squeezing her hand in
a light farewell. He watched her perfect frame walk away and sent
up his regular prayer for her safety.

He hated it
when she was called across the line. He wished he could go with
her, but knew it would never happen again. He hated knowing she was
about to feel her body break into a thousand pieces and be sewn
back together in another time and place. He hated that it caused
her pain. He hated that she was no doubt putting herself in danger
for the sake of others and he hated that there was nothing he could
do about it.

He knew the
next ten minutes were going to suck as he waited for her to return
and tried to force her from his mind as he looked back to his
mother. She was staring after Gemma. Her face was unreadable, a
distant memory obviously flickering through her mind. Harrison
often wondered if his relationship with Gemma reminded his mother
of her relationship with his father. He wished he could have known
him; could have spoken to the man that made his mother’s eyes seep
with longing. He would have asked him why he didn’t have the
strength to stay alive and how he could have slipped away from a
woman who obviously loved him more than anything else.

Chapter
Three

London, England – 1820 AD

Gemma buttoned
the waistcoat with agile fingers. Braiding her hair, she slung it
over her back before covering it with the long coat. Flexing her
shoulders, she made sure it sat comfortably before slipping her
stockinged feet into a pair of square-toed leather shoes.

She was
grateful her father insisted they wear men’s clothing. It was so
much easier to move without layers of petticoats. Standing
straight, she turned to her father for further instruction while
Ruby and Dominic finished attiring themselves in clothing
“borrowed” from a nearby Victorian manor. How her father managed to
get in and out of these places with piles of clothing was beyond
her. He always came in advance, setting up the details so that when
his children arrived they would be here for the shortest time
possible.

“
Right,
19
^th
Century London guys. We’re
looking for a man named Arthur Paulson. He is a writer trying to
publish an important piece of work that will expose the true
injustices of child labor in this country. Some of the factory
owners got wind of this and are after his blood.”

“Did they kill
him?”

“No, but they
beat him so badly he suffered brain damage and was unable to write
again. They also destroyed his work before shoving him into a
mental institution where he spent the better part of his life
dribbling and occasionally spouting off about an unjust
society.

“If we can save
him and get his work out there we might bring an end to these
terrible conditions just a few years earlier. He is a passionate
man, if he doesn’t achieve change now, he will keep campaigning
until it happens.”

“So, how do you
want to do this then?”

“Okay.”
Alistair breathed in. “Dom, I want you and Gemma to head over to
Mr. Paulson’s apartment and collect all the pieces of literature
you can find before they set it alight.

“Ruby, you’re
coming with Mom and me to stop this man getting pummelled and give
him a swift warning. Everyone clear?”

Four heads
nodded.

After quick
directions from their father, Gemma followed Dom out of the narrow
alleyway and onto the paved streets of London’s west end.