2. Darkness in the Blood Master copy MS 5 Read online

  Darkness in the Blood

  Book II of the Gifted Blood Trilogy

  by Vicki Keire

  Copyright © 2011 Vicki Keire

  All rights reserved.

  Website: http://www.vickikeire.com/

  Blog: http://vickieire.blogspot.com/

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon. com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, business establishments or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One: Chasing Phantoms

  Chapter Two: Trouble

  Chapter Three: Close to Home

  Chapter Four: Shadow Lessons

  Chapter Five: Shadow Sick

  Chapter Six: The Trouble with Threes

  Chapter Seven: Dreaming in Blue

  Chapter Eight: Unwelcome Substitutions

  Chapter Nine: A Little Wild

  Chapter Ten: The Summer People

  Chapter Eleven: Such Creatures

  Chapter Twelve: Stars

  Chapter Thirteen: Azalene

  Chapter Fourteen: Splinters

  Chapter Fifteen: Snakes and Angels

  Chapter Sixteen: The Devil You Know

  Chapter Seventeen: Ethical Dilemma

  Chapter Eighteen: Strange Passage

  Chapter Nineteen: The St. Clare

  Chapter Twenty: This Delicate Madness

  Chapter Twenty-One: Shared Purposes

  Chapter Twenty-Two: Breakfast with Asheroth

  Chapter Twenty-Three: Broken Things

  Chapter Twenty-Four: The Other Caspia

  Chapter Twenty-Five: Break My Bones

  Chapter Twenty- Six: White Box

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: Delivery Service

  Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Twilight Kingdom

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Chapter One:

  Chasing Phantoms

  I used to break out in a cold sweat when I was terrified.

  These days, I break out in Shadows.

  I squared my back against one of the sturdy trees of Blind Springs Park and stared up through its branches at the moon. Almost full and only slightly lighter than my quicksilver eyes, it cast just enough light to show the cold darkness snaking between my fingers and creeping up my arms. I closed my eyes and focused on calming my breathing. Dark electric fire crackled across my hands, racing up my arms and arcing across my neck. It felt like a combination of freezing water, marching ants, and someone slithering over my grave.

  Once they appeared, only two things got rid of the Shadows: attacking someone or something, or calming down enough that they went away on their own. There was no one in the park but the crickets and I, so the attacking option was out. Lately, it took longer and longer periods of calm to make them go away. I was afraid the day would come when nothing I could do would banish them.

  Asheroth had warned me. When Ethan was gone and Logan lay dying, he came to the hospital to warn me. “He taught you just enough to get you killed,” the mad Nephilim raged at me, furious with Ethan for unlocking such a dangerous gift. I hadn’t believed my insane self-appointed guardian then.

  I did now.

  I forced myself to focus on my goal: find Asheroth, get help. Breathe, calm, focus. Find Asheroth and get help for Ethan. Ethan needed help much worse than I did. And Asheroth was the only Nephilim I knew. He had to have answers. There was no one else.

  I silently pleaded with the Shadows to stay gone as I stepped carefully away from my tree trunk. I’d been wandering Blind Springs Park for the third night in a row. Each night had been as unsuccessful as the night before. And yet, I couldn’t quit hoping that tonight would be the night I’d find him. “Caspia Chastain,” I hissed as I walked, “when will you learn to be careful what you wish for? The only thing worse than not finding Asheroth might be actually finding him.”

  I sealed my lips together against the chilly night air and crept closer towards the most deserted part of the park. The nearly full moon overhead cast ragged patches of light through the winter bare trees. I was deeply in, now; branches snagged my long tangled hair and snapped against the leather of Ethan’s jacket. I could imagine what he’d say if he knew what I was doing.

  “Are you crazy, sneaking through Blind Springs Park in the middle of the night? Alone? The same park where Dark Nephilim attacked us just a few months ago? When you know there’s still a demon after you? Are you trying to get yourself killed?” my imaginary Ethan raged at me.

  Amazing how much Ethan and Logan could sound alike when my welfare was the topic of conversation.

  “I’m not trying to get myself killed,” I whispered, but I didn’t sound convincing, even to myself. I was well aware that what I was doing was far from sane. I knew both Ethan and Logan would do everything they could to stop me. Why else had I snuck out in the middle of the night? “I’ve tried every other way I can think of to summon him, and nothing’s worked.” I drew a deep, shaky breath and rocked back on my heels, looking for landmarks. “I need him. We need him. Asheroth. He promised he’d help.”

  I needed Asheroth because the man I loved had sacrificed immortality to keep my brother alive. By Ethan’s reckoning, his sacrifice had been more than worth it. He got to live a mortal life with me, and Logan was recovering with a kind of speed and strength that amazed his doctors. So much so, in fact, that we’d checked him out against medical advice because we were afraid the doctors might decide to keep him for experiments.

  But for Ethan, becoming mortal was turning out to be a painful, ongoing sacrifice. Even now, he slept restlessly, tormented by fever, headaches, and nightmares. His waking hours were a nightmare of sensory assault as his body tried to process hundreds of new needs, sensations, and information all at once. His mortal body was strong but completely alien to him. He had bruises from walking into things, and we had quickly learned not to trust him with anything sharp or breakable. After Ethan’s second set of stitches, Logan and I had silently replaced all the dishes with hard plastic and wood.

  Worst of all, he could feel the empty space where he’d once carried throbbing, pulsing Light. Like an amputee with phantom limb pains, the emptiness hurt him. He never spoke of it. He thought I didn’t know. But I could see the pain in his eyes, and when he slept his drugged sleep, he cried out for the lost Light that had served as wings. I watched him in the night, hating myself as I massaged his knotted muscles. Three nights ago, I’d finally had enough. I started sneaking out, looking for my mad, self-appointed guardian. I was desperate.

  I needed Asheroth to tell me how to help Ethan.

  I hoped Asheroth could tell me a way to change him back.

  Ethan. Love. I’m so sorry.

  It hadn’t seemed like such a crazy plan when I’d dreamed it up in the warmth and safety of my apartment. I visualized the small clearing where I’d first met Asheroth months ago. He and two other Dark Nephilim had attacked Ethan and I. They’d tried to kill each other, and I’d learned about my own Nephilim blood when Asheroth kidnapped me. But none of that mattered now, because Ethan was mortal, and Asheroth had sworn to protect me from an even greater threat, a demon that hunted m
e.

  “Asheroth,” I called softly, as I had the night before, and the night before that. “Are you there?” The wind picked up momentarily, as if in answer, snapping bare branches against each other and stirring the dead leaves at my feet.

  Nothing.

  “Hello?” I turned in a slow, tight circle, watching the trees for a flash of red leather. “It’s Caspia. If you’re there, I need you.” A sudden blast of wind hit me from behind, whipping my hair around my face in all kinds of crazy directions. Momentarily blinded, I hugged myself against the chill. “I need help.”

  Still nothing.

  Underneath the curtain of my hair, I felt tears forming. My world was falling apart. I was being consumed by Shadows, Ethan’s mortal life was pain-filled and confusing, and I had come to a deserted park for three nights in a row to beg a mad fallen angel for help. I didn’t bother to wipe at the tears. At least Logan had found some peace; his recovery was going well, Amberlyn adored him, and he had his old job back.

  “Flowers will grow there, in the spring. Silver ones, like your eyes.”

  The voice was hesitant, even shy; it came from behind me. I would have recognized it anywhere. I froze, prey sensing a predator. It was my automatic reaction to him.

  “What do you mean?” I finally asked when he didn’t elaborate.

  “Your tears,” he said in the same soft tone, as if he’d explained himself fully. Then, with an edge: “Why are you crying?”

  There it was. A hint of the unpredictable anger that made him so dangerous. I wrapped my arms around myself and hoped I didn’t erupt into Shadows. “I’ve been looking for you. For three days.”

  Before I finished speaking, I found myself staring straight into a pair of burning diamond eyes. Rough stone hands gripped me on either side of my ribcage, lifting me so that my feet dangled several inches from the ground and my arms flailed in the night air. He stared at me like a fisherman who’d caught a water-breathing mammal. I stared right back: soot black hair, ghost-white skin, and a mad, cutting beauty that would haunt me until I died.

  Asheroth.

  “What has happened, that you would seek me so, Caspia?” he demanded, the pressure on my ribs increasing with his agitation. His bright eyes narrowed to slits although his voice stayed soft as mist. “You do not appear injured. Are you endangered in some other way?”

  “It’s… Ethan,” I gasped out. My ribs were screaming at me. “Please put me down.”

  “No,” he suddenly snarled. “Tell me what he has done.”

  “Nothing,” I growled back. As I struggled against his bruising hold, I felt cold electric darkness pooling in my palms. My fingers flexed automatically. “You’re hurting me,” I warned.

  “You play dangerous games,” he said, and dropped me, disgusted.

  “I don’t mean to. I only want your help.” But the Shadows were out now, racing across my fingers. Asheroth saw them, and his look of disgust grew more severe.

  “I warned you,” he said. The space behind his back, where planes of Darkness served as wings, began to shimmer.

  “Yes. You did.”

  “I could teach you. Someone must teach you, before they consume you.”

  I ignored the electric cold creeping across my hands as best I could. “Yes, but not today. I need help with Ethan. He’s hurting. Being mortal… it’s agony, Asheroth. I didn’t know. I don’t think he knew, either.” I felt the tears forming as Asheroth stood watching me, still and unreadable. “Watching him… I can’t bear knowing he’s in that much pain because of me. I came to ask if there was anything to be done, either to make mortality easier on him, or...” I closed the distance until I stood almost nose-to-nose with the Dark Nephilim. “Or turn him back.”

  “Make mortality easier on him. Turn him back. E’than’i’el,” he echoed flatly. “Not to teach you or train you. Not to keep you safe. He is the reason you creep through the night while evil hunts you.”

  “Please.” I found myself leaning into him, both palms flat against the front of his red leather jacket. Shadows crackled and flared where I touched him. “Please,” I repeated, softer this time.

  He stared at my hands. “No mortal woman has touched me since she died.” He covered my Shadow-pulsing hands with his own cold white ones. In a whisper: “I forget. You’re not mortal, and neither was she. Not entirely. But close enough. Enough to be warm.” Suddenly his hands were manacles around mine, his eyes so bright they burned. “Enough to die.”

  He clapped one rough hand over my mouth and the other around my waist. Blind Springs Park vanished around us.

  ***

  I’d forgotten how truly disorienting the abrupt spatial displacement could be. It had been months since I’d traveled this way.

  Asheroth held me firmly. I sagged against him as I found myself staring at the front door of my apartment, sick and dizzy. His voice against my ear came fast as bullets and just as merciless. “You must learn to protect yourself, Caspia Chastain. Ethan cannot do it for you anymore. You will not accomplish that by chasing lost mad Nephilim in the dark and off the path.” He shook me so hard my teeth rattled. “I know you do not see it, but there are dark things roaming Whitfield. Powerful, ancient evils that would love a soft new thing to play with. Those Shadows you wear like cheap jewelry only call to them. You must be careful. If you let E’than’i’el tempt you into dangerous stupidity one more time I will kill him myself. Do you understand?”

  When he let go of my mouth, I hissed at him. “If you touch him, I’ll end you.”

  His hold on my waist remained steady. “When you can harm me, I’ll worry about you much less.” He beat on the door, three booming knocks I was sure would wake the entire apartment.

  Asheroth worried about me? Right. “What the hell are you doing?” I hissed again. “You’ll wake everybody up!”

  “Your dwelling is too well warded for me to enter. Yet another reason why I’d prefer you were inside it this night. And yes, I am rather counting on waking everyone. I think your brother and the other one should know what you’ve been up to. They don’t, do they?” I pulled uselessly on his arm. Shadows crackled and flared against his jacket. “I rather thought not.” He pounded on the door again, even more energetically this time. In fact, he seemed downright cheerful.

  Bitter, insane Dark Nephilim.

  The door flew open. Logan stood there wearing ratty sweats with a Futurebirds t-shirt hanging loosely from one arm. He’d tried to put it on and given up on the way. His hair had grown just enough to stick up wildly. Dark stubble covered a long red crease mark down the right side of his face. As he blinked rapidly in the bright hall light, his mouth fell open in surprise. “Cas? What the hell?” But then he took in my wild hair, tear-stained face, and the owner of the red leather-clad arm that held me, and surprise melted quickly into anger. He slowly twined the t-shirt around his fist. “Seriously? What. The. Hell.” Logan shook off the last bit of sleep. “Let her go.”

  I love my brother. Only he would try to use a t-shirt as a weapon.

  “I don’t want her,” Asheroth said haughtily, but I swear he sounded amused. “I found her wandering the park. I am merely returning her to you.”

  “I am not a lost dog,” I growled. I knew better than to hit him, but I was so mad I didn’t care. I elbowed him in the ribs and yelped at the shooting pain that was my immediate reward.

  “Then why haven’t you released her yet, Asheroth?” Ethan asked coldly as Logan angled himself sideways to make room. His blue green eyes were fever-sharp, but he held himself steady. “She doesn’t appear to want you either.”

  “She is right here and quite capable of speaking for herself, thanks,” I snapped as Shadows continued to pulse harmlessly from my hands against Asheroth’s jacket. Logan and Ethan stared; exactly how out-of-control my Shadow-summoning had grown was yet another secret I’d tried to keep. Damn Asheroth, damn him!

  “I was waiting for you, E’than’i’el-who-was. You look every bit as terrible as she said you
did. I am so glad. Since you are the reason our Caspia decided it was a good idea to go creeping about in the middle of the night, I thought I had better see the extent of the damage for myself.” He pulled me even tighter against him, pushing out all my air. “You were right, dear,” he whispered theatrically. I could feel myself turning white. “Mortality looks quite painful. How terrible to know he did it because he loves you. Perhaps you were right; maybe this really is your fault,” he purred.

  Son of a bitch, I thought. I couldn’t breathe.

  “Son of a bitch,” Logan said, and rushed us. I felt his warm human fingers close over mine. I wanted to tell him no, to warn him about the Shadows, but I couldn’t find words. My vision was graying out. Bare seconds after he grabbed my hands, the electric cold between us flared so intensely it seemed to burn, and Logan wasn’t holding onto me anymore. I heard a dull thud as his back hit the wall.

  Then Ethan was there, cradling my face between his hands. Pale and feverish, he stared straight into my panicked face. “It’s going to be fine, Cas,” he promised. “Asheroth. End this now. I won’t ask again.”

  “How do you plan to do that, E’than’i’el-no-more? As much as I would enjoy destroying you, I think it might distress her.”

  Ethan never took his eyes off mine. He spoke two words I didn’t know, two words in a language so full of liquid sibilance it was difficult to tell where one word ended and the other began. I didn’t think the human tongue could produce such sounds. I knew instinctively I was listening to the Nephilim language. The effect on Asheroth was electric; he released me immediately, practically throwing me at Ethan with an inhuman snarl.

  As Ethan’s warm, strong, human arms opened to catch me, I had time to wonder just what two words had such power over mad fallen angels. I gave myself roughly three seconds to catch my balance before rounding on Asheroth and demanding answers.

  There was no sign of him. The hallway was empty except for the three of us. Logan leaned against the wall right next to our apartment door, looking winded and shaky. He waved me off when I started for him. Ethan held me gently by the arm instead. “Caspia,” he said before I could ask about Asheroth. The warning was plain. “Did he speak the truth? Have you been wandering the park by yourself, trying to find help? For me?”