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13 Tales of the Paranormal Page 13
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Jared opened his mouth to speak but his father raised a hand to interrupt. “And it’s not just us who has magic within, not just mages, but everyone. Everyone has magic, energy, within them. It’s just that regular people don’t know how to use it, or access it. Or even know that it’s there.”
“Okay, so we’re taking like serial killers and things like that? Are we like vigilante police men?”
His father laughed loudly. “Serial killers and criminals are the evil, but their criminality is just a cover for who they really are.”
“Who they really are?” Jared said, confusion creeping into his voice.
“They are beings of the otherworld.”
“Otherworld?” Jared said, lowering his voice to a whisper, not liking where the conversation was going.
“They usually stay underground, but every so often, they come into public light as the evil in our society. Vampires, fairies, mermaids.”
“Wait a second,” said Jared, this time raising a hand to stop his father. “I get that vampires are evil, and that they could be responsible for murder and evil, but fairies? Mermaids? Aren’t they friendly like unicorns; all rainbows and glitter that little girls grow up pretending to be?”
His father shook his head vehemently, his thinning silver hair waving wildly. “Oh no. Fairies are vicious little creatures, with horrible sharp teeth. They really like to bite. And there are some that are venomous.”
Jared shook his head in disbelief. “And mermaids?”
“Think of all the ships you’ve heard or read about that sink. Or the ghost ships of legend. What caused them?”
“I guess you’re not going to just say storms.”
His father shook his head and laughed again. “You’re right. It’s mermaids. Ninety nine percent of the time it’s mermaids who sink ships. They like playing cruel tricks on them. They like to cause suffering and disaster and for no real reason other than they can. It helps them pass the time. Mermaids live extremely long lives.”
“And it’s our job to find these creatures and-” Jared began.
His father finished his thought, “and rid the world of them. To help the rest of mankind.”
“How many of us are there?”
“I’m not sure exactly. But not many. There’s not many of us left anymore. We’re not immortal, and we’ve had to be around for millennia.”
“And what about Mom?” asked Jared, suddenly, picturing the woman he only knew in photographs; a young woman with dark hair and dark eyes, totally opposite from Jared’s pale hair and bright blue eyes. “Did she know about any of this?”
He saw his father’s eyes darken at the question, as he collapsed heavily into a chair and mumbled something.
“What?” asked Jared, leaning in closer to hear.
“Yes,” his father said, slowly, as if the words were painful to speak. “Yes, she was one of them.” His father looked up at him so quickly that Jared took a step back, away from the fury that blazed in his father’s eyes. “Which makes you half; half evil,” his father spat.
And before Jared knew what was happening, his father stood before him, the sword he had uncovered by the abbey held tightly in his father’s hand, and the tip pointed towards his chest, almost piercing his skin through his thin t-shirt.
“What?” Jared stuttered, taken aback. He took a step backward and stumbled over one of the chairs, banging heavily into the wooden post of the staircase. “What are you doing?”
“The same thing I had to do to your mother when I found out what she was,” his father replied, his voice as cold as steel, as he started to advance.
Crimson
Jo-Anne McLeary
Crimson
Jo-Anne McLeary
“I seriously cannot believe I let you talk me into this,” I said to my cousin, Akasha, aka Jenny Smith.
“Hey, you're the one who wanted to meet a vampire,” she replied.
We stood outside Crimson, a new nightclub that had opened a few weeks ago. The line was quite long, and not really being a nightclub kind of girl, I was feeling a little antsy.
“A real vampire… not some Goth-loser with plastic fangs and a bad widow’s peak.” I heard someone behind me clear their throat; then again, only louder.
“Yes!” I snapped turning my head to look. A Goth-loser with plastic fangs and bad widow’s peak smiled at me expectantly.
“Can I help you?” He looked a little taken aback at my tone.
“It's Halloween, the night for all the Goth-losers with plastic fangs and bad widow’s peaks to come and play.” There was a small smile tugging at his lips. Which, I might add, now that I was looking, were totally lush. His full lower lip had two little dimples from his “fangs”. I'm ashamed to say my heart-rate increased. Jenny, sorry, Akasha, elbowed me in the side. I realised I'd been staring at his lips for an uncomfortable amount of time. I felt colour flood my cheeks and I looked up, and up into his eyes… amazing, deep-blue eyes… my colour of choice.
“Um, yeah. Sorry. You have great eyes. Did you know that?” I froze and felt my cheeks flame hotter. Jenny eyed me and my faux-pas.
“Actually, yes. My mother used to tell me that all time.” He was grinning. I heard Jenny sigh and she grabbed my arm to pull me forward. I'd been holding up the line.
“I'm sorry. I don't like being out of my comfort zone.”
Jenny snorted. “Dem, you're always out of your comfort zone.”
I found myself staring at the Goth-loser, “Hot Goth loser” I should say. He had to be at least 6'4, and damn, those shoulders. Boy’ could carry the world on them; they were that broad. I also noticed the way he filled out his costume. Yum. He was, in a word, divine. Jenny elbowed me again. She’d finally paid attention to him, and there was a lascivious gleam in her eyes. She also liked what she saw.
“Sorry, my cousin's a little rude. I'm Akasha, and she’s Demeter.” Jenny extended her hand.
“I'm Marcus.” They shook hands and Jenny removed hers a little too slowly; you couldn't mistake her intention. Hot-Goth, Marcus, looked at me.
“Demeter?” he asked smiling.
“Yeah. So?” I get a little defensive about my name. It happens when people are always making fun of you. “My mother’s a Greek mythology buff.” My eyes slid to the ground.
“Hey, I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry if I offended you or anything. You don't often meet girls named after the goddess of the harvest.”
I was a little dumbfounded that he knew the origin of my name.
“Dem gets a little defensive about it. Not’ her fault her mum's a loony.” Jenny gave him one of her smiles that usually scrambled a guy’s brain cells. I guess I forgot to mention that Jenny is beautiful. She’s 5'10, slim, has long black hair and amazing green eyes. I noticed Marcus's eyes widen a little. And here we go again. I sighed and turned back around to face the front of the queue.
I zoned out of their conversation. I really couldn't believe I was waiting in line to get into a vampire nightclub. I'd even let Jenny talk me into a ridiculous outfit. Okay, so it was only an embellishment on what I usually wore, but I still felt uncomfortable. I was wearing a vinyl bustier that made my cleavage pop, a pleated black mini skirt, fishnet stockings and my 3 inch Goth boots with buckles up the sides.
I wasn't necessarily short at 5'4, but next to Jenny, I needed the extra lift. It was hard sometimes, being the cousin of a chick who looked like she could own the Miss Universe title… unchallenged.
I pulled out of my thoughts when I noticed we were only five people from getting inside.
“Jenny.” She ignored me; she so deep in conversation with hot Goth loser.
“Jenny.” I tapped her shoulder.
“What?” She snapped, eyes flashing.
“Do you want to get inside or what?” I asked peevishly. The bouncer was eyeing her up.
“Sure, sorry.” She flashed a smile at him.
“No problem, miss. How 'bout you go straight on through.” He held the rope aside
.
“Really? Thanks so much.” She amped up the smile and grabbed my hand and Marcus's and dragged us through the rope. I heard a few protests behind us, but they were quickly silenced by a “Shut up” from the bouncer. There was a second bouncer a few feet in front of us who stood before a massive black steel door. He smiled at us, fangs on full display, and pulled open the door. I was immediately assaulted by Rob Zombies “Living Dead Girl”. I felt as if all the air had been sucked out of my lungs when the door was closed behind us.
The dance floor was directly in front, and to our left was a bar that took up the entire wall with more liquor than I'd ever seen in my life. Along the back was a raised platform that housed the DJ, and to the right side, there were little silver tables about chest height, so you had somewhere to put your drink. The place was huge, to say the least. And that’s not even counting the wall where the eight couches sat; there were all sorts of people sprawled over their cushions.
Jenny dragged me straight to the bar, through the masses, and some guy in a Batman costume copped a feel of my ass. I turned to glare at him, but he was already lost in the crowd. Somehow, we got waited on next; there were no protests this time, and I felt like a third wheel.
She'd already had four offers from guys to buy her drinks. She smiled kindly at them and patted Marcus's substantial biceps. I turned away sickened. I noticed one of the couches had been vacated, and I tapped Jenny's shoulder and pointed. She just nodded and waved me off. Nice. My first trip to New York and to a nightclub, and she just let me go. Whatever.
I made a beeline for the couch, but wasn't quick enough. It was taken up by the hottest guy I had ever seen. Marcus was nothing compared to this guy. He was like an Adonis. He was sprawled across the couch as if he owned the place. I just stood and stared. He looked to have been around the same height as Marcus, but he his build was bigger. He wore a tight, black t-shirt that showed off every muscle to perfection. His long, powerful legs were encased in the best pair of black, denim jeans that I had ever seen worn on a guy. His face was all planes and angles, with full lips, short, cropped black hair and ice-blue eyes. He was a study in perfection.
He looked out over the crowd with a bored expression; then his eyes found mine, and I felt a little thrill go through me. I was about to look away, embarrassed, when he smiled and beckoned me to him. I think that was when my brain short-circuited, and I strode over to him; the whole time his eyes never left mine.
He sat up and patted the cushion next to him. I sat and nervously swallowed. I had no idea what had come over me. I never approached guys.
“I'm Steele.” He held out his hand.
“First or last?” It took me a second to realize I could hear him perfectly despite the pounding music.
“Just Steele, and you?” He looked at me expectantly.
“Demeter.” I reached out and shook his hand. It was warm and it engulfed mine. “How can we hear each other so well?”
“Magic.” He smiled.
Okay.
“So, um, what are you?” I asked, trying to cover my nervousness.
“Vampire.” He smiled again, and there were a pair of fangs I swear weren't there before.
“Seems to be the theme of the night.” I nodded to the crowd where there were multitudes of capes and those bad widow’s peaks.
“Except, I'm the real deal.”
He smiled again, and I shifted nervously. I had a feeling he was enjoying my discomfort.
“What are you supposed to be?” He asked, dragging his hand softly down my arm. I broke out in goosebumps, and had to clear my throat.
“N-nobody. Just m-myself.” His fingers intertwined with mine, and I felt that little thrill again.
“Really? I thought perhaps you were a temptress that has come to steal my soul.”
I laughed out loud. I was happy to see he was a little bemused by my laughter.
“Sorry, wrong girl; that would be my cousin, Jenny.” I smiled.
“You mean the one you came in with?” That wiped the smile off my face.
“You were watching me?” I pulled my hand from his and scooted as far away from him as I could. My heart started to beat a little faster.
“Yes. I always study my prey.” His eyes seemed to burn brighter, and I felt ensnared. My mouth was suddenly dry, and I tried to swallow. My heart beat increased again. I felt glued to the lounge.
“What?” I whispered, still looking into those eyes.
“You are mine tonight, little goddess.” He stood and pulled me up with him. His arm went around my waist, fingers digging into my hip. I knew there'd probably be bruises. He steered us through the crowd, and the music came back with a pop, Drowning Pools “Bodies” now blasting my senses. I could feel my heart start a new rhythm, this time it was trying to burst out of my chest. Fear had me in its icy fingers, and I couldn't seem to get away from him. He leaned down to whisper in my ear.
“I can hear your heartbeat increasing. It excites me.” I felt him smile against my throat. He kissed my neck, right over my carotid artery. I whimpered, scared out of my mind, but there was also a little desire mixed in, and that scared me more than anything. Miraculously, I saw Jenny. She was grinding with Marcus. I caught her eye, and after giving Steele the once over, she gave me a thumbs up. Then she vanished into the crowd again. I felt tears stream down my cheeks. I stumbled when I saw the exit sign over a door. His arm tightened around my waist. If we went outside, I knew with startling clarity that I wouldn't live to see tomorrow. The tears came faster, and I tried to wriggle free, but my body wouldn't obey me. No, no no no no. I repeated in my head. I was choking with fear now. We reached the door, and he threw it open and pulled me out with him. I got a glimpse of a dumpster, and the next thing I knew, I was up against a cold, rough brick wall. My breath was slammed out of me.
Steele's arms were beside my head, and I felt like I was in a cage. I felt that little thread of desire again. I stared up into his eyes. “P-please?” It came out barely more than a murmur.
He smiled at me.
“Please, what? My little goddess.” My thoughts scattered again when he drew a finger down my throat and over my left breast.
“I-I-I'm....” I tried to remember what my mouth was working to do.
“You are scared, little goddess. I can smell it.” He put his head to my throat and pulled in a long breath. Then he blew it out against my neck. I shuddered, with desire or fear, I couldn't really tell anymore. He laid his body against me and crushed his mouth against mine. I thought my hands were going to push him away, instead they went around his neck, and I opened my mouth against the onslaught of his kiss.
Stupid, stupid. Fight him! I screamed in my head. But my body seemed to have other ideas. A laugh rumbled from deep inside his chest. He broke the kiss to look at me. I noticed our eyes were level. I'd wrapped my legs around his lean waist, and I was breathing heavily.
“What are you doing to me?” I asked. He laughed again.
“Nothing you don't want, little goddess.”
I started when I felt his hands stroke my bottom underneath my skirt. I was so confused, fear and desire warring within me. I did notice that I didn't remove my legs from his waist or my arms from his neck. I felt stuck.
“Oh, little goddess. You have no idea what you do to me.” His gaze sharpened, and he took my mouth again. I moaned. I had never felt anything so all-consuming in my life. I gasped against his mouth when I felt cold air against my chest and rough fingers on my nipple. It was already hard, and he plucked it with deft fingers. I squirmed against him as he moved to my other breast. His mouth left mine and closed over the swollen bud. I gasped and stared at the sky. My hands roamed over the muscles of his back, scratching and feeling the play of them under my fingertips. He laved my breasts, and I cried out when he dragged his teeth over one. He lifted his head again, and smiled at me.
“Little goddess, you are beautiful.”
“D-don't stop!” I heard myself beg. Wrong, wrong answer.<
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“Do not worry, my little one. I will never stop.” In the moonlight I saw he was utterly devastating in his beauty, almost otherworldly. I stroked my fingers down his cheek and over his lips softly.