Read A Destiny Revealed Online
Authors: Dria Andersen
A noise across the room snagged her attention, and Dalia’s
eyes widened. Her younger brother was chained to the wall, his eyes covered and
mouth gagged. Bruises colored his face and chest, and dried blood covered his
exposed skin. Oh God, not Xavier, please. She struggled against her restraints.
“What do you want?” Fear choked her.
“I see I have your undivided attention now. In a minute I'm
going to strap you to that table" His slender finger pointed to the middle
of the room. "
and
kill you.”
Her heart dropped and tears blurred her vision.
“When you die, you’ll be in the temple of your African
ancestors. Once there I want you to go straight to the altar. On the right side
of that altar is a bowl of red stones. You are to take one and wait.” His voice
was hypnotic.
Trapped in his eyes, she was unable to look away.
“Wait for what?”
“I will bring you back to life, of course.” His mocking
smile stole the air from her lungs. “If you do this, I’ll allow your brother to
live. I’ve found that you are the stronger of the two. I have no need of him.
Are we in agreement?”
Dalia nodded. She didn’t see where there was any other
choice. She only needed a chance to get her brother safe and find a way to
escape. Two other men helped Maksim strap her arms and legs to the table in the
middle of the room. She didn't bother fighting. The men surrounding her had
cold eyes- ones that promised retribution if she moved.
The first cut to her wrist hurt the most. The blade slid
across the skin and blood welled, spilling over, running down her hand. The
pain came only after she saw the blood. Primal instinct bowed her back as she
fought the second cut to her wrist.
"No." It came out a whimper. Terror stole the
strength from her voice.
His breath brushed her throat a moment before his teeth sank
in. The swipe of his wet tongue across her throat turned her stomach. "I
only need a small amount to tie you to me."
She twisted and jerked against the restraints, panic turning
her body cold.
"Yes, fight." Soft lips touched her ear as he
whispered.
"Such strength.
Fight if you feel you
must, Dalia. It will make your death faster."
Numbness crept up her arm, invaded her chest and legs and
she felt the truth of his words. The screams of denial in her head drowned the
rest of his taunting and for the second time that night she blacked out.
***
The pain was unlike anything Dalia had ever felt. The fire
sweeping through her veins woke her from the blissful darkness and she opened
her mouth in a silent scream. Sharp needles of heat traveled across her skin
and stabbed into her insides. She struggled against the restraints on the
table. A dark hunger rode her, nearly as painful as the fire moving through her
body. She could barely discern the voice trying to calm her.
Warm fluid slid down her throat and her limbs jerked with
spasms. When the convulsions stopped, a heartbeat sounded in the room, strong
and beckoning. Dalia opened her eyes, her vision cleared and she spotted her
brother still chained to the wall. She focused on his neck, the pulse calling
to her, and licked her lips. Her mind screamed that she did not want to hurt
him, but her body demanded she slake her thirst.
“Don't worry. I will keep my promise to you.” Maksim trailed
his fingers across her neck and down her chest.
Dalia’s eyes tracked the movement of his fingers. Tattoos
covered her shoulders where none had been before. The swirls and jagged edges
of the tattoo looked tribal and Dalia felt as though she was marked in a
warning to others.
“I have someone for you to feed from and then your brother
may leave. He has served his purpose.”
Dalia was confused but pushed that aside as a second
heartbeat called to her, this one faster than that of her brother’s. When the
restraints were lifted from her arms, she sat up and latched quickly on the man
thrown in her lap.
Nothing mattered but feeding.
Chapter 2
Thirty years later
DALIA TOOK A DEEP BREATH and shuffled onto her stomach on
the roof of a vacant apartment building. Concealed in the shadows, the black
leather she wore blended into the night. She tucked her rifle against her
shoulder and looked through the scope. Voices from the couple she watched
drifted up to her. Dalia’s rifle tracked the movements of the male, focusing on
the tattoos on his neck. If she took the shot there, she would have enough time
to get to him and finish the job up close and personal. It wasn't necessary,
but she was nothing if not thorough. Scattering her victim's dust to the winds
ensured they would not get back up.
'I know you’re confused, but if you come to us we can
explain all to you.'
Dalia shivered in unease. For the past six months a female
voice had been invading her mind.
'
Allow us to help'
, whispered a male voice.
Her body shivered again, but in lust. Her stomach clenched,
and heat bloomed in her cheeks. She was going crazy, she knew it, but
what could she do about it? Steadying her shaking hands, she ignored the voices
and resumed her watch. The couple was up against the wall. Their moans and
writhing bodies had Dalia rolling her eyes.
“Ti Ti, is this going to take all night? I have a test
tomorrow morning,” her nephew whined in her ear.
Dalia removed her hand from the trigger and pushed the
button on the receiver in her ear. “I didn’t ask you to wait, Julian. Go home,
I’ll be fine.” Dalia kept her voice quiet. Her target and his girlfriend were
arguing now.
"I'm not
a ho
!" The woman
shouted.
Dalia snorted. "Right, cause good girls make out in
nasty alleys." She replaced her finger on the trigger. “Come on, come on,”
she mumbled. “Make a move, bro, and I'm all over you.”
The woman shoved the male away and stormed off and Dalia
tensed in anticipation. She centered her attention on her target and waited on
the male’s reaction. If he followed, he was toast. She took deep breaths to
release the tension and held steady.
Dalia laid still, deadly, a bead of sweat moving down her
back. His voice carried as he called after his date. Seconds later when he
received no response the male turned, walked the other way and Dalia breathed
out.
“You were almost gone, brotha.” she murmured, and laid her
rifle carefully on the concrete. Rolling onto her back, she stretched to loosen
her tense muscles. She'd been watching her target for the last hour and
marveled at the patience she'd learned with her new, albeit unexpected, career.
Sighing, she hefted her body up and packed her gear. Tapping her earpiece, she
called to let her nephew know she was on the way home.
***
"About time," her nephew Julian grumbled when she
walked through the front door of her condo minutes later. He grabbed his book
bag from the floor, impatience and anxiety stamped across his handsome
features.
Dalia dropped her keys into the bowl on the table at the
door and the sound echoed off of the high exposed ceilings. Entering the
kitchen, she double tapped the wall next her refrigerator and entered a
six-digit code into the panel that slid silently out. Air hissed into the room
as the door swung open, revealing Dalia's weapons storage room.
“You didn’t have to wait, Julian, I told you that.” She took
the sniper rifle from her pack and with careful deliberate movements pulled it
apart and stored the pieces. She made a note to clean them later.
Normally it was done as soon as she got home, but with Julian hovering, it was
best not to remind him of what she'd been out doing.
“And who else is supposed to make sure you're safe while
you’re out sniping dangerous creatures all time of the night?” His was voice
disapproving.
Dalia closed the door and faced her nephew, one eyebrow
lifted in disdain. “I am one of those dangerous creatures. You don’t have to
worry about me.” She peeled off her leather vest. Her tank top was soaked with
sweat and she looked forward to peeling it off too. She sat on one of the
stools situated at her kitchen island and removed her boots. Tossing them down,
she stood and gave her worried nephew a kiss on the cheek.
“Ti Ti, one day there will be a monster bigger than you,
then what will you do?” He grabbed her arms to halt her escape.
“I’m done for the night. Stop worrying and go home.” She
patted his cheek.
His hazel eyes studied hers as he released her arm.
“You should be out doing other things besides worrying over
your elderly aunt.” Dalia teased.
He snorted and Dalia breathed out a sigh of relief as he
allowed the subject to change. Her nephew was so much like her brother it
brought a lump to her throat.
“Is this the same elderly aunt that wears tight leather
pants and ass-kicking combat boots?” He smiled. “If I recall, your niece
refuses to go to clubs with you anymore because you pull more men than she
does.”
Dalia laughed aloud as she thought of Julian’s twin sister.
“Well, what can I say?” She crossed the loft to her bathroom.
“On a serious note Tía, how much longer will you do this?”
All traces of laughter gone, he held his bag with a white-knuckle grip.
Dalia turned to him, her face equally serious. “I'll stop
the day Maksim Pontis does.” She shut the door to the bathroom quietly.
Reaching into the shower stall, she turned the water to scalding.
She went out every night watching for Maksim’s goons,
following every vampire with the tattoos matching hers. She made sure
they weren't taking women off the street and had been doing it for well over
twenty years. No one should have to go through what she did. That was her vow
when she found out there were others turned vampire unwillingly. She'd spent
three years watching Maksim break his weaker victims and torture the ones like
her who were strong enough to fight back.
Her nephew worried about her going out every night, but the
only alternative was to stay at home and allow the nightmares to consume her.
Dalia figured she would rather go down fighting. Staying home would drive her
insane. If the voices were any indication though, she was already losing the
battle with her sanity.
She stepped into the shower and hissed as the hot water
pelted her skin. Adjusting it to a cooler temperature she turned and let the
water trail through her hair. It washed through the grime and plastered her
curls to her back.
'Dalia, you are being stubborn let us come to you if you
would prefer',
the male voice cajoled. The deep timbre seduced… pleaded.
Her body heated in a way that had nothing to do with the hot water.
“Leave me alone.” Dalia leaned her head against the cool tile.
The voices were getting to her. It was only a matter of time before she lost
her mind.
'You’re not going crazy, if you would only come meet us
we’ll explain.
' The female voice implored, impatience tingeing her tone.
“I said stop.” She put her head under the spray hoping to
drown the voices.
“
Tía
?
Are you okay?” Her
nephew asked, banging on the bathroom door.
Dalia shut off the water and stepped from the water. She
wrapped the heavy towel around her slender frame and opened the door.
“I’m fine,” she murmured. “I thought you had to go home.”
“I heard you talking to yourself and just wanted to check on
you.” Suspicion narrowed his hazel eyes.
“I’m fine, tell Xavier I said hello and that I'll drop by
and see him when I get a chance.” She avoided his glance.
“Mom is starting to get suspicious about why you never come
by the house anymore when she's home.” He informed her as he walked to the
front door.
“It’s hard to explain why a sixty year old looks twenty
seven, don’t you think?” Bitterness colored her tone. “Plastic surgery is not
that advanced.”
Julian shrugged. “Thank you for trusting me with your
secret, Ti Ti. I'll never betray you.” He stood at the door watching her with
that serious look she always associated with him and his dad.
“Don’t worry so much, Julian,” she scolded. “I've actually
decided to go home to mom for a couple of weeks. I need the break.”
“That’s great!” He told her, his smile genuine. “The
Santiago Apóstol Festival is going on now, right? That should be fun. I wish I
hadn’t taken the summer semester now.”
“Yeah, it should be. So tell your father, I won’t see him
for a few weeks and that I'll catch up with him when I come back.”
He nodded and left the apartment.
Dalia sighed in the silence that followed his departure.
Every year in July, Loíza had a festival for St. James celebrating Loíza’s
African and Spanish heritage. It may be just the diversion she needed. If
anything, it would be good to visit her mom. She had not seen her in a few
months and with her mom pushing eighty she wanted to be sure she saw as much of
her as she could.
Dalia nodded to herself, yes, time at home would soothe the
hole in her life she was trying to deny. And just maybe the voices would go
away.
Chapter 3
BRON MOVED THROUGH THE THRONGS of people gathered in
Loíza for the Santiago Apóstol Festival, his eyes scanning every face. The
streets were filled with natives, their dark skin matching his and telling of
their African ancestry. People wearing colorful costumes and
máscaras de
vejigante
, coconuts masks for which Loíza was known, surrounded Bron on all
sides. He pushed down his impatience and focused on his assignment. He'd
been searching all day, and exhaustion weighed on him.