Birth of Jaiden

The Birth of
Jaiden

Jenifer Malone
Wright

Published by
Jennifer Malone Wright at Smashwords

Copyright 2011
Jennifer Malone Wright

Smashwords
Edition, License Notes

This ebook is
licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be
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purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please
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respecting the hard work of this author.

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to my husband, without
whom, this book would still be merely a dream instead of a
reality.

“The most compelling vampire story I have
ever read. I couldn’t even believe it was over when I had turned
the last page, and I wanted to read on at once. Now, I’m
desperately waiting for the second part…”

Theresa Berg, Editor

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The creation of this book involved many
people. I would like to thank my cousin Kathy Weisz for her time
and the beautiful cover art as well as my editor Theresa Berg for
helping polish and perfect my work. I would also like to thank my
good friend Rose for her constant support and encouragement,
reading the manuscript over and over again, and not being afraid to
tell me how it is.

Another huge thank you goes to Michy and the
Accentuate Writers as well as all my freelance writer friends, who
wholeheartedly love the craft of writing, who believe in the power
of the written word, and who have helped me grow and learn as a
writer.

My husband and my five children deserve a
huge thank you as well; they were the ones who many a day and night
dealt with the moody writer that I can be. My husband never once
doubted me and has always encouraged and supported my dream of
being a novelist.

And of course thanks to my other biggest
supporters, my sister Mary and my good friend LeAnne.

Thank you all

From the bottom of my heart!

The Birth of
Jaiden

1

Sweltering heat emanated
from the searing flames. Alex ignored the fact that his skin
blistered and his clothes burnt. He plunged both arms into the
blazing orange inferno without a second thought for his own
well-being. His hands flailed frantically until they found what
they had searched for. He pulled the charred remains up and hugged
them to his chest before he gave a desperate glance toward the
others. Smoke curled up into his mouth and nose and made it nearly
impossible to breath.

“
Hurry, hurry. Get out
now,” a gentle voice whispered into his ears. “You must go right
now if you want to live.”

How could he leave them
behind?

“
Go now,” the voice
whispered more urgently.

Sparks flew as a giant log
broke in half and fell from the ceiling. It crashed onto the floor
less than two feet from where Alex stood. Flames engulfed the log
and created yet another obstacle.

This time, the voice cried
out. “Hurry, Alex!”

Alex knew he needed to
move. But did he want to live?

The flames grew while Alex
stood motionless, undecided.

Suddenly, a great push
from behind thrust him forward toward a wall of fire.

***

Alex stirred in his
mahogany coffin, one of the best that money could buy. He felt the
soft, white velvet lining rubbing against his cheek but it did not
comfort him. He panted like a thirsty dog and writhed helplessly
inside the narrow wooden box.

His eyes snapped open.
First, he checked his hands for burns but couldn't see any. He
groaned as he realized it had been yet another
nightmare.

Are these recurring nightmares
going to last forever
? He wondered as he reached up and unlatched the
locks which he’d installed for his own safety. You just never knew
when someone was going to come and chop off your head or stake you.
He pushed open the lid and sat upright. His gaze wandered around
while his mind tried to fight off the dread for the night
ahead.

Set in the center of a
large stone room that was buried deep beneath his house, his coffin
rested on a massive stone slab with Egyptian hieroglyphic carvings
around its edges. The carvings read, ‘Death is not but eternal
life.’ The slab and coffin were the only items in the room except
for his slippers and a small table that held a candelabra and a box
of wooden matches.

Out of habit, Alex lit a
match and touched it to the candle wicks. Instantly, the room was
illuminated with a soft glow as he climbed out of the coffin. When
he slammed the lid shut, the hollow sound reverberated off the
stone walls and then quickly died. He wedged his large feet into
his slippers, padded over to the wide steel door and punched a
series of numbers into the keypad. The door emitted a soft
whooshing sound as the powerful lock released.

Yawning, he stepped
through the door and into a maze of tunnels that worked their way
into deadly traps scattered throughout his underground chamber.
There was another whooshing sound as the door locked behind
him.

With the candelabra in his
right hand, Alex moved through the maze and watched the flickering
shadows as they played on the walls. Malcolm’s face shone
menacingly in the light ahead.

Alex stopped short and
blinked. He held the candles out toward the face, but it wavered in
the candlelight and disappeared.

Hmmmm,
he thought,
perhaps the night ahead will prove to
be eventful after all.

Except for his echoing
footsteps, the tunnels were dead silent. It seemed that the dark,
dank atmosphere should be home to mice or cockroaches, but no,
nothing lived there.

Once he got to the end of
the tunnels, he faced yet another heavy steel door which required a
combination. So again, Alex punched in the numbers and
exited.

Finally, just inches from
the steel one, there was a thick oak door which simply required a
key. Alex took the key from his pajama shirt pocket, unlocked the
door, entered his bedroom and then relocked as he always
did.

He scanned the room with
all his senses. It was more out of habit than concern. Despite the
popular belief of vampire legend, the many mirrors in the room
reflected his image off of each other.

Alex gazed at the four
poster bed that he never slept in. How inviting it looked. The
thick mattress was clothed in burgundy blankets with piles of
decorative pillows scattered across the head of the bed. Burgundy
and black dominated the color scheme; black carpet, burgundy walls,
sheer black curtains shading the windows.

He preferred the softer
light of candles so he passed the light switch and went to the
dressing table. He set down the candelabra and picked up a candle
that stood in a golden holder with biblical carvings in its base.
While he lit it, he was reminded of his time in Rome. The things
there had been so beautiful that he hadn’t been able to resist
bringing something home for himself.

Alex knew his hobby of
decorating his house bordered on an obsession; he brought things
back from his journeys all over the world to put in his house in
Reno. But his house was done; if he put anything else in it, it
would look like a little old lady’s cluttered house. His casinos
practically ran themselves and his place on the Great Council only
occupied him every now and then. It was an awful feeling not to
have a purpose.

He tried to ignore the
weakness that plagued his body with pain and indicated that it was
time to eat again. A glance at his nightstand told him that his
cell phone was blinking. He pushed back the pain of hunger and
checked his messages.

Damion’s smooth voice came
through the ear piece. “Hey Alex, I’ve set up a council meeting
tonight. I just
know
something is going down with Malcolm…and I really don’t
like the looks of it. I think we all need to get together to talk
about this one. Eleven, conference room.”

Alex clicked his phone
shut and threw it on the bed. Then, he went to his closet and
rummaged through his clothes. With excruciating care, he chose a
black Armani suit complemented by a dark red dress shirt. Dark red
was his power color, and he loved feeling powerful.

Next, he went into the
connecting bathroom and gave himself an approving look in the
mirror. Till the end of his existence, each time he looked into the
mirror, he would see a twenty-eight year old man. His harsh Russian
features would forever remain without wrinkles and his coal black
hair would never gray. It was his eyes, though, which told the
story of his age, and even
he
could see the stories in them.

Carefully, Alex applied a
dark, skin colored foundation to his face and hands to cover his
paleness. The effort was worth it because the mortals never
questioned his light skin.

Alex put on his black
leather overcoat, which was long enough to accommodate his six foot
four body and still sweep the floor around him. Then he allowed
himself one last approving glance in the mirror, grabbed his
briefcase off his dresser, and left the room.

He opened the garage door
and sighed with pride. The room glimmered from the shiny chrome
which decorated most of the cars.

If he wanted to stop at
the church before the meeting, he didn’t have much time to spare,
so he went to his orange ’69 mustang and slipped onto the soft
leather seat. He set his briefcase on the seat beside him, and
then, with the turn of the key, she came to life. After he had
backed out of the garage, he shut the doors with a remote and
roared his way out of the long driveway.

The pine tree lined
streets were deserted at this hour of the night. Alex liked that;
living outside of the city between Reno and Lake Tahoe gave him
more privacy. Although it was raining, he opened his window half
way to let in the fresh scent of the rain washed earth.

As he approached the city, he
took in the view of the lights.
It’s like the first time every
time,
he
thought,
like beacons calling to you, and like vampires also,
deceivingly beautiful, drawing you in with great promise…and then
you get bit.

He wasn't able to help
himself; he laughed out loud a little and drove into the city. The
traffic there was crazy compared to the lonely streets near his
house. Among the many hotels and casinos which dominated the city,
he watched as Lucas Hotels and Casinos drew closer and closer, and
then stood tall and proud in front of him.

He passed the exit and
kept going for a few miles until he came to a stop in front of the
large brick church. He parked the car, ran through the rain, and
ascended the cement stairway. Alex found the church deserted and
locked as it always was at this time of night.

When he took out his lock
picking tool, he was reminded of the old days when they had never
locked the churches. They had always been open for the public
whenever they had needed to be close to God.

Guess you couldn’t do that
with all the crime nowadays.

Upon entering, he felt a
presence; not one of God, but something, or rather someone, else.
Of course he knew right away who it was. Danielle had always had
this bad habit of following him around when she was
invisible.

Although he knew it was
she, he never let on to her that he knew.

Why would anyone be upset
that an angel was following them around?

Why she was doing it was
another story. He couldn’t think of any reason why she would want
to keep herself a secret from him, since she knew that he would
tell her everything that she wanted to know, and besides that, she
could read minds.

Although the bricks
muffled the sound of the rain, its presence was evident. It
drizzled down the outside of the multicolored stained glass
windows.

It’s like they are
melting
,
Alex thought as he stared at them.