could see from the corner of her eye, John staring at her as if he wanted to say something, but he remained silent. She found herself unsure of what to say to him after his father’s rejection. When she opened her mouth to speak, she found herself not knowing what to say without sounding patronizing. Lost in her thoughts of helplessness, she took a breath and stared out the window watching the planes with sadness that all his hopes of reconciliation with his father and brother were dashed by cruel words.
Samuel and Billy arrived in their suite at the bed and breakfast in the early hours of the morning after scaring some of the nosy tourists watching them oddly. Billy kicked off his shoes and collapsed on the settee while Samuel started a log fire in the fireplace. “So what made you think I was with Anna?” Samuel asked alluding to their earlier conversation. “I don’t know,” Billy said, looking at him. “We both know that she likes to take an occasional lover as we all do.” “I just thought naturally that you two would have,” he smiled, “well…you know.” “I don’t like to kiss and tell, but in this case no that didn’t happen,” Samuel replied. He raised his brow.
“What about you and Lisa?” “Nope,” Billy grinned. “It was Anna.” “Anna,” Samuel grinned. Billy nodded his head, grinning cheekily. He sprang up from the settee. “I’m going to shower and crash,” he said. “Okay,” Samuel shrugged.
He turned and stared into the burning embers in the fireplace with a smile forming on his face of a memory that he had kept hidden from everyone. He closed his eyes. “Your majesty,” he said bowing before Sage. “Please, there’s no need to bow,” she’d said smiling. “But you’re a royal,” he stammered. “That’s not of any importance right now,” she said gliding into his room, closing the door behind her with a flick of her hand. “You felt it too when we first met...,” he said.
“Yes,” she said huskily, standing close to him, their lips nearly touching. “You are very beautiful,” he said. “And so are you,” she said, gazing into his violet eyes with their long lashes. “I had never thought of taking a lover until now,” she said staring at his flawless translucent skin, his long lustrous hair, and lips the color of a rose quartz.” He cupped her face in his hands and brought her lips to meet his. Her lips were soft and moist and tasted of honey. She had a sweet fragrance that smelled of cinnamon on her skin.
She took her hand and swept it across his face while the candles flickered out. “This night is for us alone,” she said, “Do I have your discretion?” “You have my word,” he said. “Let us cherish this night and keep it in our memory.” He kissed her again, purring softly as they lay down together onto the bed, resting their heads on the feather pillows. “I offer my apologies in advance if this isn’t to your liking,” he said nervously. “I’m new to all of this.” “I’m new to this as well,” she said, giving him a lingering kiss that set ablaze his loins. She gazed downward, smiling. “I think you’ll do just fine,” she grinned wickedly.
He could still feel her fingers running through his hair and the softness of her skin as they undressed, the touch of her hands sending tingles through his body as their limbs tangled in-between the satin sheets. “My queen,” he whispered, smiling with the knowledge that he was the only one in the coven to spend a night of passion with Sage. “What are you smiling about?” Billy asked, his head wrapped in a towel. “A pleasant memory,” Samuel replied.
Rafael tossed and turned on the sofa. His mind flashed back to the lair. He was walking in the darkness, stopping at an opened door. Peering inside, he made out glowing yellow eyes staring back at him. Before he could reach for his stake, this unseen entity grabbed him and shoved him against the wall. He jumped up from his sleep, disconcerted by his surroundings.
“Where am I?” he wondered. Then he remembered the nurse Randi and that this was her apartment. He felt his cell phone vibrating against him. Missed call it read. Checking the caller id, the number listed was anonymous and there was no message. “Could it have been John calling me?” he thought.
When the plane landed at the airport in Kansas, Lisa took out her cell phone after she and John left the terminal to try to call Cody. “I’m not getting a signal,” she said frustrated. John remained silent, which was beginning to aggravate her.
It was close to sundown, and she needed to see Cody to combat the helplessness she felt. Focusing her attention, she tried to speak to him telepathically. “Cody,” she said. “Cody, where are you?” she asked. Cody was walking along the road after resting for a night at a small mom and pop motel when he could see, in the far distance, his father’s farm. It was dilapidated from wear and tear, and the barn had collapsed into itself. He started to walk across the tallparched grass when he heard Lisa calling to him. “Lisa,” he said. “I’m headed toward my father’s farm now.”
“How can I get there?” she asked while they walked out of eyesight of the airport personnel and passengers. “This is where I wish I had Queen V’s power of illusion,” she said. She grabbed John’s hand. “Okay I need you to focus on me.” “Why?” John asked, holding on tight to their duffle bags. “You’ll find out in a minute,” she said. In a flash, she held him close to her as they flew in the reddening sky. “Don’t look down if you’re scared of heights,” she said. John couldn’t believe how fast they were flying. Before he could speak, they had landed in the parched grass, meeting Cody. John felt like he had whiplash, while his head spun. “Lisa,” Cody said, giving her a warm hug. John watched them, feeling like the third wheel. “So this is your home?” Lisa asked while they walked through the grass and looking back at John swatting at gnats. “This is where I lived,” Cody said fondly.
They came upon the collapsed barn, staring at it for a moment then slowly walked toward the house. John sat their bags down on the ground. “My pa used to keep his horse and other farming equipment in there,” Cody said. “If he was alive, my pa would be one hundred years old,” he said. He walked to the door, leaning his hand slightly on it and it opened, surprising him. “Do you think someone lives here?” John said. “Only my pa lived here,” Cody said. “The neighbors would come by from time to time to help out, especially after my fiancée died.”
As soon as they walked inside, a pungent stench assaulted their senses. “What is that smell?” John said feeling nauseous. Lisa looked at the layers of crusted dirt and grime on the floor and on the wall. John felt as though he would upchuck at any minute. Cody became anxious as he turned the corner. “My pa’s room is right around the corner,” he said. “My room was here,” he said. It was a small room with a rusted iron rollaway bed and hand-carved dresser.
The pungent odor grew stronger as they neared his father’s room. The door was closed. Cody took a breath, looked at Lisa, and pushed the door open. He gasped. An old, frail, emaciated man lay in the bed; the blanket caked with urine and feces. Overwhelmed by the putrid smell, John bolted out the house, running outside throwing up. “Pa,” Cody said. The man opened his eyes clouded with cataracts.
“Cody,” he said weakly. Cody ran over to his father. “Pa,” he said, stunned that his father was still alive. He lifted up the sheets, choking back the bile. Lisa covered her nose, sickened.
Runny bedsores covered his father’s body and maggots infested his legs. Cody’s lip trembled, heartsick. “Timmy was supposed to be looking after me, but he left me here,” his father said. “I’ve been lying in this bed for a year or so. I hoped one day to see you again, my boy,” he said weakly. “I prayed to see you again before I die.” Buckets of tears flowed from Cody’s eyes. “I’m sorry that I didn’t let you grieve for Cynthia when she died,” his father said.
“That’s water under the bridge, Pa,” Cody cried. “I’m sorry I left you,” he said. Tears trickled down Lisa’s eyes. “When I die, I want you to burn this house down. I don’t want to be buried. The matches are in the kitchen.” “I love you, Pa,” Cody said, kissing his forehead. “I love you, Cody,” his father said, wheezing and gasping until he lay still, his mouth open. “Pa,” Cody said. He lay motionless.
Tearfully, Cody went to his room rummaging until he found some kerosene oil. He sprinkled it throughout the house while Lisa dug through the dirt in the kitchen until she found the matches. Cody looked once more at his father and struck the match without success. After two more attempts, the match caught fire. He threw the match to the floor, and the flames on the dry, rotted wood went up instantly, spreading quickly. “Cody c’mon,” Lisa yelled grabbing his arm, running out the house. “There was no one to look after him,” Cody said guiltily. “No one.” The whole house went up in an inferno while they watched. Distraught, Cody tried to dart inside the burning house, but Lisa held him back with all her strength. He clung to her sobbing profusely while John looked on dazed.
Cristian awakened Sage, kissing her lightly. “What time is it?” she asked. “It’s about five in the afternoon,” he said. “I’m going to take the painting back to the gallery.” “Okay,” she said, worried. “Everything will be alright,” he said. “I never expected the portrait to get this kind of attention. I’ll make sure that the attention doesn’t infringe on our privacy. And when this is over, we’ll go to Egypt.” He wrinkled his nose. “I really don’t want an elaborate ceremony.” “My coronation was a small affair,” Sage said. “We’ll discuss that later.” He kissed her and put on his sunglasses. “I’ll be back,” he said. She got out of bed and watched him get on the elevator. After she dressed, she came out into the living room, staring at the massive dent in the wall. Suddenly, the darkened hallway of her loft appeared in the room like a spectral vision. She began to walk toward it, through the wall, and found herself inside her loft.
She walked down the hallway feeling a presence in front of her. “Pedro,” she said. She saw the door to his room. It was closed, the shroud still covering it. “Pedro,” she said again. She grabbed her lantern and went to the insulated storage room hungry for blood. She stirred when she heard the sound of pounding footsteps as though someone had attached brass bells to their shoes. The noisy sounds stopped at the doorway. Waiting a few terrifying minutes before grabbing a bottle of animal blood, she uncorked it with her fangs. As she started to lift the bottle to her lips, her mind flashed to biting Cristian’s neck and tasting his blood, likening the flavor to that of pomegranate. She could still taste it on her tongue. Shaking her head to dismiss those thoughts, she placed the bottle to her mouth, taking a sip. The liquid stuck to her throat and had a bitter taste like tar. Repulsed, she spewed it out. Frustrated by her endless hunger, she hurled the bottle against the wall, shattering it to pieces.