Ancient Blood: The Fallen (4 page)

My attention was caught and held, and my mouth rounded in a silent O of horror, as I took a hasty step back from the small river of spiders that broke loose of the shack's eaves, flooding their way down its sides.

I stumbled backwards, tripping over my feet in my haste to get away from the deluge, and landed painfully on my rear end, hitting the ground with a thud. Then immediately found my head coming back up though with alarm, as I heard a loud snap, then a tortured creak and groan before, with a thunderous roar, the shack collapsed into a pile of rubble.

Coughing, I waved a hand in front of my face at the layer of dust that was accumulating thickly within the air, then gave a startled jerk as from behind me, I heard a voice hiss, “what the
fuck
did you do
now
!”

Wrenching around on my butt, I stared at Dante, who was angrily considering the pile of debris that littered the ground. He wore a heavy frown across his brow, and I felt my mouth sag open in flabbergasted disbelief as  indignation flushed throughout my system at the fact he apparently seemed to be more concerned about the welfare of the tool shed, than that of my own.

Climbing to my feet, I balled my hand into a fist, and drawing my arm back, I let loose with a smooth yet powerful punch, burying my fist in his stomach, immediately letting out a smothered yelp, as a teeth clenching, bone aching throb shot through my fingers and up my hand.

With eyes slit from pain and ire, I blinked several times, trying to clear the shimmer of tears that had formed before glaring at Dante, who betrayed not even the slightest discomfort from my action, and instead wore a smirk across his condescending lips, while I, on the other hand, tentatively tested my fingers, wondering if I hadn't just broken the blasted things.

Hissing out a curse, and with tears still glistening, I turned and furiously marched away, superstitiously nursing my throbbing hand as I held it gently against my chest, and muttered every foul name I could think of to call Dante.

Slowly, as the tears that slipped past the natural damn of my eyes dried upon my cheeks, I made my way towards the hen house.

My wrath having been further fueled by the fact that, with everything that had gone wrong through out the morning, gathering the eggs had fallen by the wayside.

A few minutes later I’d managed to push aside my anger, and had begun clucking at the hens, as with my basket nearly full and my mood continuing to lighten, I smiled at the volley of clucking I was receiving in return.

Sliding my hand under another of the hens, I was circling my fingers around an egg when I found myself stilling, my stomach plummeting down around my toes at the overwhelming sense of dread that washed through me at the slight tingling throughout my body, a telling predecessor of trouble brewing, a type that I'd become entirely too familiar with.

I’d been through it too many times not to recognize the significance of the strong tingles, a warning sign of what was to come, and though I’d had a slight generation of my power at the water trough, I suspected this time was going to be a much more powerful exhibit.

Then, just as I'd feared, no sooner had I felt the signals, than a riot broke loose as hens began flying off their roost in a mass exodus, feathers and straw flying everywhere as they squawked in a mad litany of alarm.

Their bodies bounced off the walls and ceiling in their panic of the simmering wave that formed within the hen house, an orange, nebulous haze that shimmered just millimeters above my flesh, filling the air around me with heat and light, then just as suddenly as it appeared, it dissipated.

I found myself letting out a relieved breath, however uttered a disgusted one a few seconds later at the fact it was too late to save the egg that I'd held clutched within my palm, for it had crashed to the floor when I'd jerked my hands up to protect my face from the sharp claws of the hens, and now, hands still held up in protection, I watched in wide-eyed dismay through the cracks between my fingers as the basket, containing the dozen or more eggs I'd already collected, slid up my arm, then hit the natural curve of my inner elbow where, as if in slow motion, the basket tipped forward, the eggs within rolling towards the edge, then lay suspended for a matter of seconds, before continuing to commit mass suicide as they rolled out of the basket.

Their fragile white shells shattered upon contact with my hands, the bones of my nose, as well my cheeks, before spilling forth their liquefied contents, and placing upon the bearer of their demise, yet another facial, only this one of egg yolk and feathers.

A few seconds later, and swearing loudly, I swiped at the goo, praying that my day didn’t get any worse as I stomped towards the house, cursing the unusual ability I’d found myself shackled with for, when my emotions were heightened, the charge within me was at its most unpredictable.

I took several moments to wallow in self- pity within the house, and to clean the mess from my hair, face and clothing. Then drawing a deep breath, I returned to the barnyard.

I was apprehensive of what experience had taught me was still yet to come, only the when and where were in question, and as today was my day to empty the dozen or so sacks of cubes to the cattle, I climbed apprehensively into the ranch truck.              

Cranking the old Ford over, I shoved it in gear and eased out on the clutch as I gave it a little gas, then tugging on the steering wheel, I turned the truck in the direction of the gates leading into the pastures.              

I'd just executed the maneuver in a smooth flawless action, and was letting out the pent up breath I'd been holding, thinking so far so good, when to my utter horror the truck decided to come alive.

Bucking and jerking as if the engine had under gone a transformation to keep up with the likes of a race-car, it took off, seemingly possessed.

Stomping on the brakes, and practically standing on the pedal with both feet, I shouted, “stop,
stop
dammit!”

However, my assault on the brake pedal failing, I found myself practically shoving the clutch through the floorboard as I hammered both feet against it instead, as grinding gears in the transmission, I tried in vain to shove the truck in reverse, hoping to stop its forward momentum as it raced towards the barn at an ominous speed.

When even that effort failed, I reached for the keys and jerked them into the off position, knowing that with no brakes, and no way to slow the blasted thing down, all I could do was sit in aggrieved guilt as it plowed it’s way through the garden, leaving behind a colorful trail of uprooted vegetables as it managed to raise the attention of all three of the brothers.

I almost laughed as I caught sight of the three of them as they came running from every direction, waving their arms and shouting as the truck left behind a whole kettle of destruction in its wake before it finally ended its journey with bumper resting against the side of the barn, having, unbelievably after its wild tangent, impacted the wooden slates of the barn wall with only the smallest of jars.

Instead, I climbed from the cab, slowly shutting the door behind me as I stood gazing around me at the destruction, then eyes swinging between the brothers, and voice suspiciously wobbly, as I was on the verge of tears, I quavered, “I…I’m going…in...anyone got a problem with
it...
go
screw yourself
,” then turning as the tears broke loose and flooded my cheeks, I ran towards the house, where I spent the rest of the day pouting.

Two months had passed since the day the truck had lost its mind, as well had my birthday. Now, at what I thought of as the advanced age of eighteen, I believed myself to be a mature, sophisticated woman, needing no further guidance into adulthood, for I, in my own mind, had become that very thing, and with that thought circling within my head, I prepared for my evening out with my friends.              

Suddenly the blare of a horn outside the house reached my ears, making me realize that my time of primping had ended, or at least according to the shouts that came floating in through the open window of my room as I was told me to get my ass in gear, and get a move on.

I began trotting about my room looking for my tennis shoes, and found my eyes instead falling upon the birthday gift I’d had made for Dante months earlier before everything had fallen apart between us.

It was nothing expensive, just a crystal that I'd had converted into a key-chain, a stone that to me, held a wealth of meaning, as it was the only thing that had remained mine within the orphanage.

A possession I'd guarded ferociously, for it was the only connection I'd had to my birth parents, the perfect gift I’d felt at the time I'd had it made, to give to someone just as special.

The blast of the horn sounded again, and I shrugged changing directions, then poked my head against the window screen as I shouted down that I'd be there in a second.

Turning back around, I made a quick survey of the room and spotted my flip-flops resting haphazardly beside the bed, moving gracefully over to where they lay, I gave up on finding my tennis shoes, and quickly slid my feet into the sandals.

Bending to pick up my purse, I grabbed a couple of crumbled bills from its depths in case of an emergency, and again found my eyes falling upon the gaily-wrapped gift of Dante's, and with another shrug, I grabbed the present, shoving both it, and the dollar bills into the pocket of my shorts, thinking to drop the key-chain off in front of his bedroom door for him to find later.

However, my plans were sent astray and forced to undergo a radical change as I felt my heart thud madly against my chest, and found myself slowing, surprise echoing throughout my system at seeing Dante standing at the bottom of the stairwell.

He was gazing out the window, and as he’d been rather scarce around the house of late, I felt the sight of him tingle throughout my system before with a breath of pure hope, I began to make my way the rest of the way down the stairs.

My eyes took in the tautness of his shoulders, a tautness that revealed his awareness of my presence, and as I stood on the last step, hesitant and indecisive, he silently continued to gaze out the window, apparently having decided not to acknowledge me and I felt moisture smart my eyes, my mood dampening under the cold cloud of his unfriendliness.

The excessively unapproachable manner he’d assumed of late was still firmly in place I noted, and suddenly felt an unfriendliness of my own come to life within me, an impulse to imitate his aloofness and continue on, to turn the table and act as though
he
were not important enough for
me
to bother with either.

However, I found myself unable to blatantly display such rudeness as to that of which I was being subjected, for after all, it was his birthday, and besides, the damn gift was burning a whole in my pocket.              

Taking the final step off the stairs, I opened my mouth and breathed a soft, “happy birthday Dante.”

Only the words died a cruel death upon my tongue, for though I knew he’d heard me, which was obvious from the slight jerk of his torso, he turned from the window, and without any definitive acknowledgment of my words, began to walk away.

Wounded at the obvious rebuff, I sucked in a breath, and before I could think better of my actions, I lunged after him and grabbed his arm, feeling my face pale as he snarled something low and deep within his throat, then wrenched loose of my hold.

Fingers shaky and uncoordinated with the emotional pain vibrating through me, I struggled with slipping them into my pocket, where finally snagging his gift from within its depths, I ripped it free of its hiding place and shoved it at him hissing, “I
said
…happy birthday dammit!”

Then, as he
still
refused to turn and face me, the gift tumbled from my fingers and hit the floor with a soft thud as a low whimpering cry issued forth from my lips, and turning, I ran out of the house.

* * *

Several hours later I was shoe-less, half drunk and dancing in the sand as I waved a long neck bottle of beer around in front of me.

Angry with myself, I swayed back and forth to the music, grumbling about what a buffoon Dante was and what an
idiot
I’d
become.

I'd spotted his truck parked a little further up the tributary earlier, and felt a wash of emotions bathe me within their embrace, for I'd stupidly thought he'd come to apologize for his hurtful actions when I'd given him his gift.

However, I'd found my steps faltering, coming to a complete stop as I’d spotted the shapely figure of a blonde slide as well out of the drivers door, where she landed flush against Dante, her hands brushing against the tanned flesh of his naked chest, and I felt myself flush with a sudden inexplicable tide of jealousy.

How dare he! How
dare
he show up around me with a woman in tow,
I angrily hissed to myself, then had to rein in my emotions, for it suddenly hit me that I
had
no right to feel so possessive of him! None what-so-ever, and that realization slammed into my gut, nearly making me throw up, for the sudden knowledge that I was totally, hopelessly one hundred percent in love with him, hurt me to my core, for I knew the feelings were in no way returned, and never would be.

Suddenly needing to get the hell away from where I stood before Dante had the chance to realize I stood watching him and his companion like the love sick idiot I was, I shot a superstitious glance in his direction, and caught my breath, becoming totally mesmerized at the heat of desire emitting from within the depths of his eyes as he gazed in my direction.

Involuntarily I took two stumbling steps in his direction, yet found my steps faltering, suddenly unsure of who the heat emitting from his eyes was actually for, as the woman at his side had begun nibbling seductively up  masculine arch of his neck, her skillful hands worked the buttons of his fly at the same time.

Face crumbling with the misery I felt in my heart, I turned away from the sight before me, as I knew the rest of the scene that was inevitably about to play out was one I didn't want to witness, for it would only destroy me. 

However, before I'd managed to block the view completely, I’d seen Dante register the expression on my face, and watched the deep blue of his eyes go flat, then jerk away from my own, as turning his head, he cupped the woman's jaw, and drawing her face up to his, he claimed her mouth with his own before pulling away, he murmured something to her  as dropping his hand to her back, he guided inside the pickup again, where after quickly following, he  fired the truck to life.

At the action I’d felt the inexplicable jealousy I’d been bathed within shatter into a surge of rage that snarled up like a snake from the pit of my stomach, for though I’d never experienced the pleasure of lovemaking myself, I was not inexperienced enough to be unaware of what was about to occur between them, and with cheeks still tinted the stain of green from the ugly snarl of jealousy and anger that ate away at my insides, I'd huffily stomped back to the others, where I’d picked up my first bottle of beer, then unscrewing the top with a quick twist, I’d swallowed half its contents before taking a breath.

Two more followed that one before I had felt any cooling of my cheeks. Then one more before I began to think of other things besides what it would feel like to have Dante make love to
me
, not unfamiliar territory though, as I’d had similar thoughts before, but to have them now, when I was so furious with him, was a curiosity I strongly disliked myself for at the moment.

I found myself tossing my troubled thoughts back and forth, playing ball with my confusion, totally unaware that I was being watched from within the trees by narrowed and observant eyes.

Then, as if having made a decision and a quick nod to himself, the lurker assumed the form of a party goer who had made the mistake of stepping near him to relieve a full bladder.

Exiting the foliage, he wiggled a little within his new frame, adjusting himself to its smaller size, before standing still and observant, sensing an enemy had at some point been nearby, however his greed and lust over-ruled caution.

A little distance away, I remained completely oblivious of anyone's approach, or the danger that moved through the night in my direction as I automatically swirled the nearly empty bottle of beer before me.

However, as Seth Tremaine neared and bent forward, mere inches between his lips and my ear, a startled jerk jarred my small frame. 

Grinning in my direction, he reached down and took a hold of my arm, where he absently began to lightly draw something upon the inner flesh of my wrist, stating that he and some of the others were going for a swim, and wondered if I'd be interested.

My immediate reaction was no, however, I suddenly found myself muttering, “uh...sure, maybe that's what I need.”

Seth, a satisfied look crossing his features, tapped his bottle against mine and murmured, “here's to us both...getting
exactly
what we need tonight.”

Then watching as I carried my drink to my lips, and swigged the rest of its contents before setting the empty bottle on the ground, another grin stole across his lips as I straightened back up, absently rubbing at my wrist before taking the hand he held out in my direction.

A slight sting irritated my wrist where Seth had been doodling upon it, but I paid it little heed, as hanging onto his hand he pulled me forward, and we began to stumble our way among the ever-increasing rowdy bunch until I realized that at some point in the evening, I’d lost a sandal, and pulling at Seth’s hand, I muttered that I’d lost my shoe.

For just an instant, I saw a flash of irritation cross his features, then with a shrug his face lightened and, to give him credit, he began asking if anyone had seen my misplaced footwear.

When we'd received half a dozen negative replies, I gave my own shoulders a shrug , and kicking off the other flip-flop, gestured that we carry on.

Nearly an hour and a half had come and gone since Dante's departure, and darkness had fallen in the time span as the moon, now showing its face upon the horizon, glinted down on a truck further up the sands, causing it to shine in the moonlight, and I found myself frowning in puzzlement as I peered closer, realizing that the truck was Dante's.

Though I’d seen him leave the tributary earlier, I'd obviously missed his return, and with confusion marring my brow as a wave of dizziness washed over me, I gazed toward the truck, realizing that he was hunkered on the tailgate like a gargoyle upon its perch, staring in our direction.

However, I lost sight of him as Seth hurriedly pulled me into the tree line where I began to feel myself flush with an internal heat of desire that was suddenly swimming strongly within my body, causing my nipples to harden, an ache of arousal to flare to life between my thighs.

A pulsing that remained with me even as we went deeper and deeper into the purple shadows beneath the canopy of the trees.

Trees that I'd begun to think must be never ending, before I  finally heard the tinkling of the water that was hidden within their depths, forcing within me the need to reach the tributary to cool my aroused flesh, which felt unsatisfied and throbbing.

At last we reached the tributary, and Seth leaned forward, brushing the hair away from my face as, turning my head to where I was facing him, he brushed his lips against mine, finding the touch not nearly enough, I leaned into the kiss, lightly flicking my tongue across the bottom curve of his lip as I inched my hand a little higher, a hunger growing so strong within me I began to squirm, trying to ease the drumbeat that had set up home in my pussy, making me wet and needy.

I felt Seth quiver, and draw a sharp breath, then push his hand up under the t-shirt I wore, squeezing and  pulling at my distended nipple.

A low groan emitted from my lips, and I completed the journey of my hand, beginning to stroke the length of Seth's hard-on through his jean shorts, feeling by its hardness that he was fully aroused.

I could feel the moisture between my legs dampening my panties, and as Seth began to tug at my shirt, I helped him lift it over my head, for suddenly I was burning, wanting badly to be fucked, as the sudden and overwhelming urge to feel the glide of his hands and tongue across my breasts, my thighs, and the overheated flesh of my pussy  had me quickly helping him to dispose of my bra, and I was just beginning to slide my shorts and panties off my feet, when I felt what resembled a ton of bricks hit  us from behind, as knocking me forward and the rest of the way out of my shorts, as in a flash of movement, Seth's body went flying as the sound of a growl echoed around us.

Still laying stunned where I'd landed after being knocked down, I was picked up and tossed into the air, where I found myself flipped over and planted none too gently on a muscular shoulder.