Dark Diary (11 page)

I spotted a dim yellow light in the distance and
squinted. From out of the shadows, came a thin, sickly-pale woman
who looked about twice my age. With each of her steps, a
thick stack of bangles on her arm jingled against one another.

“Hello, young one,” she said in a scratchy voice as she approached; her thick accent was distinctly English.

Raven pulled back and twitched nervously beneath me, making the pain in my arm unbearable.

“I-I am in a hurry. Leave me be,” I said.

Ornate golden earrings shimmered on her ears and a heavy necklace hung at her collar. Her black cloak made me suspicious of her occupation. Though my manners taught me never to assume things, she had the aura of an untrustworthy soul.

I tugged on Raven’s mane and sent him darting past the stranger. No sooner had I avoided her than she reappeared before me in the road.

“Where are you headed with such haste?” Her head cocked and her eyes flickered with eerie amber fire. “You’re injured.” She pointed, though she didn’t sound concerned.

“I must get away from here,” I snapped, enraged by the pain and her stubbornness. I kicked my heels in and braced myself for the charge.

There was a sudden shuffle of dirt and leaves and Raven reared up, sending me flying to the ground. The wind was knocked out of me and my consciousness faltered. I took a moment to catch my breath before coming to my feet.

Raven let out a deafening neigh and my heart skipped a beat. The ground shook as his body came crashing down before my feet. His legs twitched violently and then froze dead in an instant. From what I could see in the shadows, it looked as though his throat had been torn clear of his neck. I quickly stepped away from the pooling blood.

What had she done?

“Show yourself, witch.” I looked frantically in every direction but saw and heard nothing more.

“You had to be difficult, didn’t you?” the creature hissed from within the shadows. The direction of her voice was indiscernible. “You’re lucky you’re a pretty one, or I would kill you where you stand.”

I gasped. She was behind me, but I was too slow to react.
Her arms came up beneath mine and she clasped me tightly
around my shoulders, pressing me into her chest and against
the heavy necklaces around her throat. She took a deep whiff
of my hair.

“Your blood is powerful,” she said. “You will make a good
companion.”

I tugged and pulled to get away, but her thin arms were unnaturally strong. The cold touch of her skin frightened me and I fought with every ounce of my strength to break free.

And then… then the pain of my shoulder vanished—replaced by the crushing sensation of fangs sinking into my neck. I cried out to deaf ears and my body shook with the blinding ache of what felt like the remainder of my blood oozing down my chest. My hands grew weak and numb and my eyes heavy and dark.

I fell into nothingness.

Dizzy, paralyzed, dying at the hands of the beast, I collapsed and my world turned black.

With my mind clouded by the curse, I had little
comprehension of the events taking place around me over the coming days. In the darkness I waited, watching in ignorance as Kathryn stumbled along the ocean shore. The tides were wild with the night, crashing and rising over the sand and rocks with tremendous force. All the while, I was trapped inside myself, forced to watch a nightmare unfold through the eyes of
an animal I had not yet learned to control.

Her words were inaudible and quiet as she stepped out into the tide, and I could do no more than stare as Kathryn toppled over into the water. There was no struggle and no cry for help as her body was dragged deeper and deeper into the rift.

I approached the shore, but the eerie glow of my eyes met only the moon’s reflection.

She was gone.

It was not until later on that I learned Kathryn had
poisoned herself that night just before running away from home.
There were too many rumors about my death and Ve’tani, my Sire, had helped to spread them. This woman had pulled me into her abyss, making me a pawn in her hunt for blood and power. She had torn me away from my life—from my Kathryn—and buried me in her tomb of eternal darkness, making me the creature I am today.

I TOOK MY EYES OFF
Kathryn’s portrait and turned away. Her necklace still hung at my neck, treasured above all my possessions—one of the only other things sacred to me still. I gazed up at the ceiling and ran my hands over the plush velvet arms of my seat.

It was rather early in the morning and not exactly a fair time to be awake. Not that I had a choice. Like humans, we don’t always tire when we should, and my mind was racing far too much to even consider rest.

No number of days could make me forget.

A million years could not steal from my mind the visions
of her beautiful face. The warmth of her blazing fingertips across my skin had vanished when I had changed, but the vivid imagery of her smile would not fade from my memory.

Damn myself for even trying, but there were days I did want to forget her. There were times I longed to be free of her love. It was a curse less bearable than the one I had endured for hundreds of years.

Relief was far from my grasp. Heavy blood consumption
barely dampened my conscience. I could never drink enoug
h to cloud reality. There was no escape.

Though I admit…

Kathera had granted me the closest thing to friendship I had experienced in years. Moments spent in her presence quieted some of the pain, but new wounds took shape with each flutter of her crimson lashes and each arc of her smile.

Our friendship was self-sabotage and I could not tolera
te another century of pain. It was a harsh truth, but one that I had to acknowledge soon… before the desire for her blood
became too great for me to ignore.

IT WAS STUPID OF ME
to dwell on thoughts of him. I was old enough and smart enough to know better than to brood over a man. Especially one as strange as Matthaya. A vision of him had visited me in my dreams last night, and even then, he was detached and distant.

But despite what his body language conveyed, his eyes seduced me with unspoken promises of security and compassion. His brilliant green irises drew me in as if I were a moth to a flame.

Too close and I would burn.

“How’s it coming over there?” Derek’s soft steps into the room had gone unnoticed, and the ink line from my pen thickened from my surprise.

“It’s going great. I think I’ve really got something here.” I put down my black pen and took a dark-red marker into my fingers. “I’m almost done. Would you like to see it?”

“Yes!” Derek shuffled into the next room and his voice became muffled by the walls. “Let me get some papers filed and I’ll be right over.”

With small circular motions, I colored in the eyes of my drawing and it instantly came to life. I sat back in my chair and sighed.

She was beautiful.

My newest creation—a thin, seductively posed demon-like goddess with ice-platinum skin, waves of thick black curls, and a triple set of powerful flame wings.

Derek poked his head over my shoulder.

“Do you think they’ll like it?” I asked, my brows raised hopefully and my grin half-cocked.

“Are you kidding? It’s incredible!” He bent over beside me and rested his forearm on the table, taking a closer look at my drawing. “I’m just a little awestruck at the amount of detail work you were able to accomplish. It’s a lot more than usual.”

“You could say I was in the zone, I guess.”

“It’s very nice.” His eyes traced my line work and he grinned in approval. “When are they coming back in to get it inked?”

“Later tonight.”

His brow furrowed. “Cutting it a little close, aren’t we?”

I exaggerated the batting of my eyes and smirked. “You said it was great, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. I suppose I did.” He shrugged off my humor. “You’re good at your job.”

He stood and took a step back.

I picked up my black pen and cleaned up part of the outline.

Derek was still standing behind me. I could hear him breathing softly.

The room became awkwardly quiet.

I started to turn my head.

“Hey, Kathera.”
Derek returned to my side and sat on
the edge of the table. He took up one of my markers and began
twiddling it between his fingers.

“Is… everything okay?” I asked, watching him tap the cap of the marker against his knee. His uneasy smile made my heart jump into my throat. I’d known him for several years and it was unlike him to hesitate.

Had I screwed up something?

“Speaking of tonight.” He looked away and chewed his
lip. “Uh… Would you care to get out of here for a little while?
After work, I mean… just for a cup of coffee or a drink or something?” A nervous smile twisted his lips.

Derek was a really sweet guy and probably only five or six
years older than I was. We’d known each other for several years as coworkers—even before his father had passed
down ownership of the place to him.

Despite the ferocious dragon tattoos that decorated the length of his left arm and the many scars across his skin, he had a very docile nature. He had been polite to me from day one, and never judged me because I didn’t have or want a tattoo. Derek was always willing to help me learn new techniques and grow as an artist.

It had begun as a business relationship, but now here he was asking me to go out with him.
Awkward
. He
was
my boss, after all, and I didn’t know what to say.

“It’s okay if you want to say ‘no,’ Kathera,” he assured. “But please don’t let this get between us being partners here. If I’m overstepping my boundaries, I—”

“No. It’s fine.” I grinned. “I wouldn’t mind getting to know you better off the clock.”

I suppose Derek and I had a lot in common, but he had
always just been the man I worked for and… I’d never thought
about
dating
him before. Truthfully, I kind of considered him to be a little out of my league.

“If tonight is too late for you, we can meet up during the day sometime.”

“Tonight is fine.”

Derek beamed. His smile was honest and enthusiastic.

I wanted to see my mother and… Matthaya, too, but apparently they would have to wait.

The motion sensor at the front door chimed.

“Oh, that might be them.” I smiled and snatched my drawing
from the table. “Wish me luck.”

He winked. “They’ll love it.”

Derek may have had more years of experience under his belt than me, but my artistry captivated even the most stubborn clients.

The client getting the female demon tattoo was paying a high price for it, so we made the exception of staying open late to accommodate his needs. It was going to take several visits to fully flesh her colors and wing patterns out, but it would be worth it in the end—for both of us. My commis
sion rate was decent. Derek made sure I wasn’t going to take
my talents elsewhere anytime soon.

He was right. The client loved the design, and I started work immediately after the initial approval. A few hours into the outlines, I wrapped up and we scheduled the next visit for further detailing. It was never a good idea to tattoo for more than several hours in one place, on one person, and with one artist.
People tend to get fatigued. The vibration and buzzing of the needles had even gotten on my nerves when I spent too much time on one piece. Some artists can endure it, but it wasn’t a preference of mine
. That, and my customers needed to be comfortable, too.

We said goodbye for the night and I watched as my beautiful demon goddess sashayed out the door on the arm of a husky, middle-aged man with more than enough tattoos to keep her company. His clean-shaven head and thick sunglasses reminded me of the biker type, but the mud splatters that dirtied the edges of his heavy red work truck indicated another profession.