The Blood In Between (The Safe Haven Trilogy Book 3) Page 14

  The seconds slowly melted away. Lucido didn’t shout it but still his answer thundered.

  “No!”

  I feared for his life. Didn’t he know the danger?

  Ricardo launched his attack but his movement had just begun when in three smooth moves Lucido, grasped the arm which held the blade and bent the elbow opposite of its usual hinge snapping it. He pulled the arm to make Ricardo twirl, grabbing the other arm and doing the same thing. Then in a quick move he lunged with his mouth and bit a mouthful of tissue from Ricardo’s neck and spat the meat onto the floor. I swear, only half of Ricardo’s neck remained which cocked his head to one side. Ricardo fell forward and crashed face first, slamming to the floor. His arms were useless to break the fall. His life bled out.

  Joseph had moved forward to act in concert with Ricardo and had not stopped the momentum of his lurch because events had happened so fast. Lucido spun with his arm and fingers extended. Vampire fingernails, like razor sharp talons, sliced his head clean off and it rolled to join Ricardo in his crimson pool.

  Lucido’s eyes shifted to the street entrance but Desmondo had run. Lucido crossed to where I sat at the top of the stairs. Desmondo had thrown a knife at me and it had come close, but the handle was what had hit me causing me to bleed but the wound was not serious. Lucido was concerned about me at first but when he’d discovered that my wound was caused by a knife meant for me, he was furious. He flew to the door to give chase but halted at the exit, appearing to have second thoughts.

  “Can you walk?” he asked, crossing once more to me. “Is Mia alright?”

  I nodded, still trying to make sense of my fast-paced night.

  “We need to move quickly. Hold on to Mia. I’m going to lift you.”

  His strength was amazing and he took me into his arms as I held Mia to my chest. I heard a noise coming from the darkness at the bottom of the stairs. Something stirred there and the hair stood up on the back of my neck. He made no hesitation once he held me and walked across the room, avoiding the blood pool that lay there. When we reached the doorway to the outside, I fell into a swoon.

  25

  The wheelbarrow containing the sleeping bodies of Millie, Persephone and the vacant body of Morgan-one of those in the party that Misty had discovered on her run-had been brought back to the Great House. The bodies of John and Sanford were motionless, and slouched in chairs close by. The room containing them and the attempts to piece Misty together was still and quiet. Inside Misty though, there was a flurry of activity. Bits of information were being collected and laid out, not unlike what happens with the wreckage of a ship or an aircraft at a crash site. There were always more being added and trying to be fit together. Four Havens had left their companion bodies and worked to bring Misty back at least to a point where she could aid their attempts. In this regard, they tried to find that needle in the haystack. Inside that needle, hopefully contained her life force. Something inside the remnants of Misty that had enough magnetic pull to attract other living parts of her and rally them into a collected surge toward living animation. Every time a spark of life was found, it was added to the collection of embers still burning. Perhaps if enough coals were added, it would begin to burn and seek its own nourishment under its own power, but that accomplishment still lay ahead. At the moment, there were cyclones, currents, whirlpools and turbulence within her. They raged and surged inside the shell of Misty. This made it difficult to keep the embers together, let alone find them. Still, Havens are patient beings and their lust for life strong.

  In the bedroom they sat among mannequins, unresponsive bodies…shared homes, for the Havens and whoever their companions were. They were respectfully placed in chairs, or lying near the walls with pillowed heads and restful postures. Each body was breathing but seemingly in a holding pattern, waiting to become animated again. Were they unable to move or even think for themselves? Almost in answer to that question, two of the resting bodies lit up from their stupor and slowly stood. Cinnamon was startled and moved closer to Michael.

  “John?” Cinnamon asked, “Persephone?”

  “They are busy with our daughter. There is need for us to do some work elsewhere. Let us bring the body of Morgan across the hall.”

  Michael neatly picked up the remains of Morgan, allowing Cinnamon to lead the way out of the bedchamber and across the darkened hall into a room she’d never seen before. As the lights were turned on, so was Cinnamon’s wonderment. The illumination revealed a medical station with what looked to be state-of-the-art equipment and mini-laboratory. Directly across from the door opening was a hospital bed into which Morgan’s remains were deposited.

  Michael then turned to Cinnamon and said, “You should stay here with them. I’ll be back in a short time. When they are done in here they wish to talk with you. This is a rare event, treasure it. I will be back.”

  This was tantalizingly little information, and though she disliked the position of knowing little and being led to places for reasons she did not understand, she was intrigued by Michael’s parting words and tired from the trek across the beach. Remaining here was alright with her for the moment.

  “Can I help”? She asked.

  “I appreciate your offer….” John began.

  “This is specialized work.” Persephone continued. “It might go faster if we can just do what we need but…please, we’d like to share some time. Have a seat and rest. There’s food over in the refrigerator, if you can eat when such grizzly activities are going on.”

  Cinnamon decided she was indeed hungry and found some peanut butter and crackers before she even got to the refrigerator. She sat and watched them work. They were hooking Morgan up to machinery of a kind she had never seen.

  “Are you trying to save her?” Cinnamon asked.

  “There’s not much of her left.” John replied. “We’re trying to keep her body alive, her tissue supple, keep her from further cellular destruction.”

  Pumps, tubing, monitors, syringes, massagers and technical talent were employed to establish something approximating stasis. Cinnamon had seen death before and this was certainly that, and yet they worked for some low level live-status. The body that was once Morgan’s was brought under control and cooled further. Now, nearly an hour after their work had begun, the body didn’t look vibrant but resembled more a very pale person resting in bed, sickly but not dead. There was no animation, or anything indicating other than a vegetative state. Finally, the work slowed and Cinnamon was joined where she sat at a table.

  “I applaud the effort to…to… that you’ve been making, but if you’re not trying to save her then, what are you doing?” Cinnamon asked as the others seated.

  “As gruesome as it sounds,” Persephone replied, “we’re keeping our options open. Another few minutes, and it would have been too late or at least it would have made things much more difficult.”

  Cinnamon had just begun to consider what this might mean when Persphone took things in another direction.

  “Once we’ve rested for a few, Cinnamon, I’d like you to hop up on the examination table. You’ve been scanned by Havens regarding the presence you carry inside. Let’s see what a medical examination can reveal.”

  Cinnamon’s eyes momentarily went wide. “You think the Haven inside me can be examined? But, I thought Havens couldn’t even be detected in a …a companion’s body.”

  “Not through any science known to you,” John responded. “Some things have been handed down through the centuries. And you must know that attempts have been made to detect a Lorn infestation. It’s not like there hasn’t been time for study and research. Perhaps while Seph examines you, I can tell you a little about that.”

  The prospect of this did not frighten Cinnamon but rather called an end to an all-too-short rest for John and Persephone. It seemed that after this opportunity was announced, a what-are-we-waiting-for feel grew and soon after, Cinnamon was undressing for the examination. Though John offered to step out of the room, Cinnamon wouldn’t
hear of it. Her Haven friends had been over every inch of her body. It was a little like standing in front of her mother naked; nothing really to hide, yet a little embarrassing. A bed sheet was provided and Cinnamon used it for cover up intermittently. Persephone conducted the examination leaving John to distract and inform.

  The Yoomans and the Havens were certainly a rag-tag bunch by now. If there were few in number before the crash to earth, the tsunami, which followed sometime later, certainly dispersed those who had huddled on the small island affectionately called “Little Homa”. To be sure, there was loss of life, at least where the Yooman’s were concerned. With nature’s fury in such magnitude, there usually is. The survivors were left to rebuild on the island, or were strewn along beaches outlining the great Mediterranean Sea. Some made their way back and reunited with loved ones. Others fought no longer to rejoin their people when the elements seemed determined to keep them apart, and so followed their lives elsewhere. For most, the challenges of survival outweighed the concerns regarding small little marbles or the possibilities that Lorn had somehow come to this island, Earth.

  The Havens known as Sundog and Crying Sky had been housed in their companions for a long time if you included the time they coexisted in long sleep while crossing the starlit ocean. In an unprecedented move, they had asked their companions to merge the four separate entities into two people. Sundog and Captain Gibson were one merging, and the other was Crying Sky and Fawn17. For two to be as one is difficult. Ask anyone who is married. Still, all who were involved worked at it as a labor of love.

  The survivors mourned their losses, licked their wounds and communed with the small group left on Little Homa. Injuries mended, and each day, strength made gains. As everyone convalesced, Fawn17 and Gibby took walks. At first it was just the two of them searching the sands and beaches, and in the evenings, before bedtime, they gave each other a thorough inspection for the reassurance that no Lorn had infiltrated either of them. As the hunt for the missing orbs broadened so did the search of each survivor for traces of their dangerous hunters. Slowly, through continued awareness and investigation of the Yoomans and those few Havens still among the group, came the unsettling discovery that there wasn’t a Lorn to be found. This was received with a mixture of feeling; Concern regarding the loss of the dark marbles and yet, guarded relief that the threat of the Lorn had been washed away. But that discovery soon enough became a day old, and then a week. The level of concern became less as the months went by…and the years…and the decades…and the centuries. It hung in the shadows as a reason to look over your shoulder once in a while, in the same way we do with death.

  Cinnamon endured the physical which was made all the better by a gentle pain free ‘going over’.

  “Dare I ask what this equipment does?” Cinnamon inquired. She was scrutinizing the unfamiliar technology around her in the exam room.

  “Let’s just say,” Persephone responded, It’s centuries old, yet still ahead of anything available now.”

  “This is from…the Gemini?” Cinnamon asked in disbelief.

  “It is.” John said. “So much was damaged beyond repair but other things…some of the very best things-survive up to this very day.”

  “What does it do?”

  “It can do many things, but what I want it to do right now is analyze your aura.”

  “My aura?” Cinnamon was incredulous.

  Persephone went on. “I suspect that instruments designed to measure what we can’t see might have interesting information. Next, I want to read your thought patterns and then we’ll take a look at your dreams.”

  “My dreams?” Cinnamon repeated

  “We’ll turn off your dream impulses and see if anything else registers.” Persephone said.

  “There’s got to be some low level brainwaves in there somewhere, don’t you think? If we turn yours off, all that will be left to record is someone else’s.”

  Cinnamon nodded. “Don’t you already know this Haven is inside me?”

  “Yes, we do, absolutely.” John said. “Wouldn’t you like to be as certain as we are?”

  “Here’s the thing, Cinnamon.” Persephone added to what John was saying. “We know it’s there within you, but we have never experienced anything like this before. We’re looking for answers, too. Just like you, we’re learning as we go along.”

  “What do you need from me?” Cinnamon carefully inquired.

  “Ah, but that is the best part. This has been a long, highly stressful day. How would you like to go to sleep?”

  26

  Cinnamon opened her eyes and found that she was lying on a soft mattress. The room was dim and as her eyes focused, she realized that was in her own room at the Great House. Cinnamon wanted to understand how this had happened, but she was equally moved to just close her eyes again. Before she could decide, she was startled by a voice in that room with her.

  “Get up, Cinnamon. I have more to share with you before the sun comes up. Rise now and sit on the edge of your bed.”

  Dr. Cinnamon Starr sat up and dragged her feet over the side of the bed, and used the force and weight of their drop to aid her in sitting up. Outside the window it was still dark but before the window, two chairs had been moved to face the glass at an angle to make the view easier. She was still able to see inside her room. A man she knew to be Michael, Michael Ro`dan, the vampire, was watching her but she couldn’t see his eyes. He leaned and patted the seat of the chair that still remained empty, indicating he wanted her to sit there. Cinnamon rose and shuffled to the chair. After she sat he handed her a blanket which she accepted and threw over herself. Then, she looked to her left and to her right.

  “What, no coke?”

  She could tell he was smiling, even in the darkness and noticed further that he nodded toward her bed. When she followed his line of sight, it led to the disquieting discovery that she could see her very self, still sleeping in bed.

  “This is a dream?” Cinnamon asked, trying to stop her intrigue before it escalated to alarm.

  “That’s what we tend to call it. It looks a little different from this side, doesn’t it?” Michael replied.

  Dr. Starr nodded her head slowly, taking it in and trying to remain calm.

  “You know about this. We all do. Look out the window and relax. Take deep, slow breaths. You are alright. This is natural. What is unnatural is that we fight this so…fear it so. Perhaps disorder and illogic are our friends, too. We should invite them in on occasion.”

  Veria had built a tent within the confines of my home’s courtyard. It was big and roomy, with many comforts, but mainly we were further from others. She was, in some ways, preparing me for a great transition, an ocean I was about to sail. She was also spilling her heart as she poured her life, at least a little, into mine. She was emotionally bleeding, and I was the one she trusted enough to show the wound.

  ‘When I awoke I was staring at my own ceiling. A cloth was over my injury. This was disquieting, for some seconds afterward, as I knew where I was but not how I got there. As moments passed, pieces of the evening came to me and I connected them. Mia lay beside me, holding on to a strand of my hair as she loved to do, ever since I first held her in the off-shore waters. Don Lucido made a cough as I was orienting, so that I wouldn’t be startled by his presence. He stood by the only view to the world our home had and gazed outside. He appeared to be listening very hard but when he noticed my waking he began to speak.

  “Let’s get you out of here and on your way to the rest of your life. That life is not destined to be here. Your death is here if you stay. Even after tonight’s encounter this man, Desmondo fears me less than the rage he feels toward you. He would assault you with anger, deep and resentful. He means to do you harm in slow, cruel ways. The close escape you had tonight just adds more to his hatred. He does not want to return to his people… to his father, and explain the loss of two men spent on tracking you down and bringing you back.”

  “He won’t kill me. He would
be cruel but he wants to take me back to his people’s camp. He can be the hero then. They would cage me again or keep me tethered so that I would be their harlot. Since they have held me, my pleas have been drowned by the clink of imagined coin. Men, women and children look at me as though I am the lowest, foulest creature, and yet the hope of a better day through me is in their eyes. I am treated to the comforts of the rich when it comes to labor. I do little of it. They would not risk a bruise or injury with me for fear this might lessen my price. I am viewed with scorn or with desire, but I am a valuable possession, an object of desire.”

  “He will kill you, little girl. He reasons even now that he could return to his father and say you could not be found. He means to have his pleasure and his torture with you but he plans a long painful death for you.”

  “Couldn’t you stop him?”

  “Not at the moment.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Look around your home. Whatever you don’t carry with you now, will be destroyed. So, pick wisely what you plan to take, and then grab it. I cannot help carrying much. We each have our own loads to bear. Make haste.”

  Most of what I collected was related to Mia’s care and happiness. I took little else but food, drink, and clothing. We could only leave by the door we entered and Don Lucido said Desmondo had come so far and was so close, it was likely we were being watched. But leaving as quickly as we were, left whoever might be following, little time for planning. It was approaching midnight and those encountered on the streets were probably not upstanding citizens. After what had happened earlier, tension increased even if they walked on the other side of the street. Mia was not as cooperative, nor as quiet as she had been earlier in the night which, though mostly innocent on her part, set my nerves on end. She was tired. Weren’t we all?

  I walked beside a vampire. Though many would have trembled and made plans within themselves for an escape, or with their maker, I felt safer, and freer in those moments than I had in a very long time.