The Dark Rising (17 page)

“You can tell me about the Awakening?” I asked in amazement.

He nodded.

“Tell me everything.”

“Are you sure you want to know?  There may be things you would rather not hear,” he replied.

“I need to.  Please don’t hold back.  My future is at stake,” I pleaded with him.

“Very well,” he responded.  “The Awakening could’ve only been removed from both of you by performing a blood ritual and marking you both for death.”

“What do you mean … marked?” A sinking sensation settled in my chest.

“They’ve placed a curse upon you to attract death to you, or more accurately, attract you to your death.  It’s called the Graveyard Curse,” he offered in explanation.

I laughed out loud.  “Well, that shouldn’t be too hard since death is currently courting me in the form of my husband, and I’m afraid I’m extremely attracted to him.”  The irony of the situation was almost too much to handle.  “What else can you tell me?” I asked.

“The Awakening belongs to you as long as you are alive.  They can’t give it to anybody else, because it’s bound to your cell structure.  Death is the only thing able to truly separate it from you,” he said.

I mulled this information over before coming to a conclusion.

“They want to give it to someone else, don’t they?” I asked him and I watched his face.

“That would’ve been my guess.  Perhaps this Cat person you spoke of wanted it?  You said she intended to kill you both.”

I nodded. “That would make sense if she carried any white witch blood.  She’s dead now though.  Vance took care of her.  I wonder why he let the other woman live though?” I replied, my mind pondering over that curious fact.

He looked at me strangely for a moment before speaking again.  “I think maybe the Hoodoo coven may want him,” he said.  “Perhaps they are planning on giving the Awakening back to him after your demise.  You said yourself there was no one stronger than him on the planet when he had the Awakening.  What if Mayla is just pushing his demon attributes to the surface before returning the whole thing to him?  He’d be unstoppable.”

“So the whole thing with Catriona would’ve been a double cross?” I asked, trying to follow what he was saying.

“Possibly,” he replied.  “You said Vance hasn’t had the greatest of track records when it comes to controlling his rage.  Since he was in a rage when they put him out, it makes sense he’d wake up in one also.  They had to realize how dangerous he would be.”

“I tried to warn her,” I mumbled in reply.  “So whether or not any of this is true, what do we do?”

“I think we need to try to recover the Awakening.  It’s your only chance of getting him back into any kind of form we might be able to work with,” he said.

“And how might we do that?  As soon as I leave the protection of this place Vance would be able to read my thoughts and our binding spell would draw him to me.  He’d know I was close by before I could even attempt anything.”

Hex stood up then and reached a hand out to me.  “I’ll teach you how to close your mind against him.”

I reached out slowly and slipped my hand into his brown rough one.  “How?” I asked.

“I’m going to introduce you to the power of the jinn,” he smiled.

“The jinn?”  I faltered and Hex wrapped an arm around my waist for support.  “What’s that?”

“Have you ever read the Qu’ran?” he asked.

“You mean the Islamic bible?”  I looked up at him in interest, and he nodded.  “No.”

“Okay, how about Aladdin and the Magic Lamp?”

“The one with the genie?  Yeah, I’ve heard of it,” I answered.

“Well then you’ve heard of the jinn.”

“Genies?  They’re real?” I laughed, wondering why I found this theory so ridiculous since I, myself, was a witch.

“Not necessarily in the way you’re probably picturing them,” he said.

 “In Arabic, Muslim, and even Egyptian cultures, the jinn were believed to be a race of God’s children that predated man.”

“Really?” My interest was piqued now.

“Yes,” he answered.  “There are a lot of different folklores and traditions concerning the jinn, but basically they were considered spirits of the desert, something between angels and man.  They consisted of species like satyrs and nymphs.  Some legends claim they were God’s chosen people, who grew to inhabit the whole earth, building up massive cities and progressing in advanced technologies the more they gained his favor.

“However, as in many societies, they began to transgress God’s laws, turning toward things of sin and wickedness in their worldly pursuits.  They fell out of grace with God and brought His wrath down upon them.  The legends say God sent a powerful army of angels to confront them, forcing them out of the places they had lived in.”  Hex looked me in the eye as if studying my reaction to everything.

“What happened then?”  I asked, thoroughly enthralled with his story. 

“God created man and gave the earth to him, and the jinn were forced to wander as spirits on a different plane, cast out of heaven, not acknowledged on earth, left to dwell in whatever spots they could find, while having to watch man as he inhabited the planet in their stead.”

“Wow.”  My mind started conjuring images of ancient battles being fought between powerful races of old.

“Reportedly, there are both good and bad jinn who often try to affect the way things go about in the world today,” Hex continued.  “There are even rumors the jinn have possessed men and women to help propagate their own species.”

We entered a darkened doorway.  Hex snapped his fingers and the light came on to reveal a mirrored room with padded mats on the floor.

“This is my training room, and now it will be yours,” he said and he gestured for me to sit.

I settled down on the soft mat, thinking about the things he had told me, while he crossed the room and pushed on two sets of mirrors. 

One mirrored panel popped out to reveal a wall of many kinds of weapons, and training devices, the other had dozens of glass tubes filled with different substances.  He picked one of these vials up and brought it over to where I was seated, handing it to me.  It was full of a bluish liquid.

“What’s this?” I asked turning the test tube in my fingers.

“That’s the jinn,” he replied.

 I looked up at him wondering if he had gone completely insane.  Maybe I was dealing with a total nutcase here.  He had been alone for a long time.

He laughed.

“Your emotions are so easy to read.  We’ll have to work on that.  I’m not crazy,” he said.

“Then explain what you mean please.  How can this be the jinn?” I questioned.

“I told you that some believed the jinn possessed others to propagate their own species, remember?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“My mother always claimed my father had been possessed by a jinni when she conceived me,” he stated.

“So you’re saying what?  That you’re a … a jinni?” I responded, hearing the psycho alert sounding off in my head.

“More or less.  I’m part human, part jinn,” he replied watching me.  “I can see from your expression you’re going to require a demonstration,” he sighed, looking slightly exasperated with me.

I nodded.  “That would be helpful, yes.”

“All right.  I want you to watch me carefully.  Do not take your eyes off me,” he instructed.

 “Okay,” I said, looking straight at him.

Suddenly he disappeared in a puff of black smoke.

I jumped to my feet in surprise, staring at the blank space where he had been.

“I’m behind you,” his voice said, and I jumped, swinging around to face him.

“How’d you do that?” I asked incredulously.

“I’m a jinni,” he replied while I sat staring at him with my jaw hanging open.  “You can close your mouth now,” he added with a boyish looking grin.

I snapped it shut, and glanced back down at the test tube.

“So how’s this a jinni?”  I lifted the vial up to him.

He reached out for it. 

“When I figured out I had these powers, I drew some blood and began to analyze it.  It took me several years, but I finally isolated the cells and this tube is the result of all my hard work.  It contains one dose of cells … cells which could possibly pass the same power onto another individual.”

“Possibly?”

“I’ve never been able to test the theory on anyone,” he explained.

I smiled and crossed my arms.  “So are you asking me to be your guinea pig?”

“Not if you’re unwilling.”  He smiled back at me.

“I might be,” I replied, after a moment of consideration.  “But only after you explain everything to me about the powers of the jinn and all your theories of how it could affect me.” 

“Deal.”  He extended a hand to me.

“Deal,” I said, taking and shaking it.

I dreamed of Vance that night.

My breath caught when I saw him sitting at a lengthy table in a tall wooden back chair.

The chair was turned sideways and his long, Levi clad legs extended out in front of him crossed at the ankle, the rest of his body slouched in the seat.  He was wearing a plain red t-shirt which was stretched both across his sculpted chest and where it came in contact with his biceps.  My pulse leapt up in tempo at this sight and he stirred restlessly, almost as if he could sense my perusal of him.

His eyes were closed and his hair was messier than usual, like he’d run his hands through it several times in frustration.  He hadn’t shaved either and his lower jaw was shadowed with rough stubble. 

I noticed one of his arms was draped across the table next to him and he held something, a glass I realized when he lifted it to his lips to take a swallow.

The red liquid inside splashed as up the sides of the container when he slammed it back down.

Blood.  He was drinking blood.

A figure passed in front of him, moving to sit in the chair next to him, a woman in a light flowing dress.

Mayla.

Vance’s eyes flashed open, his irises flaming red with an intensity I’d never seen before and he scowled at her.

It occurred to me that perhaps this wasn’t just a dream … more like a vision, and I watched the two of them closer.

Mayla slid another full glass of blood toward him across the wooden surface.

“Are you feeling better?”  Her voice dripped with concern, and she reached out to rest her palm against his forearm.  Anger surged through me at her casual familiarity with him.

Vance shifted uncomfortably again, this time looking around the room.

“What’s the matter?” Mayla asked him, squeezing his arm and he turned to look at her, settling back down in his chair.

“Nothing,” he replied, moving to take a drink again, requiring her to break contact with him.  “The blood is helping though,” he added after he sat the glass back down.

Mayla stood and went to stand behind him, reaching out to massage his shoulders and neck, and I felt like I was going to explode at the sight of her caressing his masculine body.

“You’re so tense,” she drawled while she worked him over and his head dropped forward as he let her attempt to work out his muscles.

I would’ve given anything to pop her head off of her shoulders in that moment, the way Vance had done to Brian, my jealousy over the situation rising to the surface.

Once again Vance looked around the room.  He stood abruptly, moving out of Mayla’s grip and her hands dropped back to her sides.

“Where are you going?” she asked, confusion written over her face.

He turned and grabbed up his leather jacket off the back of the chair.

“Out,” he replied shortly, his booted feet moving with a soft clunking sound on the wooden floor.

“Don’t forget what we talked about,” Mayla called out after him as he walked out the door.

He didn’t acknowledge her at all and my vision followed him outside.  He swung his jacket on in the sweltering heat before he strode across the swampy looking yard to where his motorcycle waited.  Flinging his leg over the seat, he jumpstarted the engine, taking off down the small dirt road.

I watched him while he drove, following him as though I were seeing him on a movie screen.  He paused at a crossroad before turning onto the larger of the two roads, accelerating quickly, peeling out and spewing the earth beneath into the air behind him.

The engine roared as he raced under the moss draped trees through the night, moving faster and faster until I was sure he was pushing the bike to its limits.  He moved with ease, almost as though he and the motorcycle were one living being, racing, leaning, twisting and turning together over every curve and bend in the road.

Suddenly he hit the brake hard and he screeched recklessly in a full spin to a stop. Dirt and gravel sprayed around him creating this dramatic effect as the dust slowly settled back to the earth.

He was breathing heavily as he glanced around in the darkness, peering into the areas which his single headlight didn’t penetrate.

“I can sense you, Portia,” he stated.  “I don’t know where you are or how you’re doing this, but I know you’re here.”

My lips trembled and I ached to reply, but I was afraid at the same time.

He lifted his head slightly and he sniffed the air before turning to face my direction.

“I can smell your blood,” he said, closing his eyes, and a look of pure ecstasy crossed over his features before they popped back open.  “You smell good too,” he added.

My body stared shaking when he got off the bike and strode toward me, coming to a stop right in front of me.  He reached his hand out, moving it though the air and I could almost feel the caress of it.

“Where are you, Portia?” he asked and one corner of his mouth tilted upward, revealing one of the masculine dimples that graced his face.

“Some place safe,” I answered him, reaching out to touch that lovely crease, only to float through him.

He raised a hand to his cheek, passing his flesh through mine in the process and I sighed at the almost contact.

“You’re speaking but I can’t understand what you’re saying.”  His eyes searched the area in front of him.

I figured the magical charms Hex had placed around his hideout must be keeping me from being seen and heard.  What I found fascinating was the way we were connected.  He was awake and I was dreaming, something which we’d never done or tried before.