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Authors: Steve Bevil

Drawing Bloodlines (27 page)

BOOK: Drawing Bloodlines
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“The Vanguard?” repeated Nathan.

“It’s about time you guys showed up,” said Jax, staring at the tall, brunette woman dressed in a neck-to-toe, black body suit. “You were just about to miss all the action.”

“Ha!” she said, with a grin. She puckered her ruby red lips and blew at some of the loose dark brown curls that dangled in her face from the top of her head. “I’m the one that alerted you to come here.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” said the athletic-looking guy standing next to her. He twirled his silver sword in his hand and aimed it at the nearest Shadow Guard. “Just like the Huntress to take all the credit.”

“Alright everyone, focus!” said a shorter woman, taking an attack stance in front of them. She looked up at the tall, brunette woman and winked. “You know Taylor’s just jea
lous he wasn’t born a Dream Walker.”

“Whatever
, Sweet Pea,” said the athletic-looking guy. Two Shadow Guards came in at him, and he slew them with his sword, leaving behind a pile of dust and ash. “As you can see, I’m doing just fine.”

Laban groaned as the new arrivals began reducing his guard into crumbling piles of ashes. “Come on,” he deman
ded, as he began pulling Leah by the hair to the front of the store. He raised his free hand and smirked as he prepared to lob an energy ball into the battle.

Frantically, Leah searched the ground for the medallion, but caught a glimpse of the high-heel suede boot that Angela carried earlier. Laban looked down and before he could pr
event her from picking up the shoe, Leah reached out to grab it; causing strange ripples in the air. The boot, once completely washed in gray, now bloomed with color. Leah violently plunged the heel into his hand.

Laban yelped, causing him to dissipate the energy ball and to release Leah. “Interesting,” he said, while pulling out
the bloody heel from his hand.

Quickly, he reached down, seized Leah by the neck, and lifted her into the air. Face to face now, the flames in his irises reflected in her brown eyes. “Who are you?” he said, with an eerie grin. “I’ve only seen a Scarlet Priest do that.”

“Let go of her!” Nathan yelled and Luke laughed. He applied more pressure to Nathan’s back.

Laban grinned as he watched Nathan struggle. He then turned his attention back to Leah, but suddenly felt a mult
itude of sharp stinging sensations as he was shoved forward. “Did you miss me?” asked Malick, after Laban finally managed to turn around. “I’m back!”

Malick stood where he had fallen and, with both hands, continued to bombard Luke and Laban with a multitude of energy balls. “I’ll teach you to attack me!” yelled Luke as he shielded his head. He charged toward Malick and abandoned
Nathan.

“No!” screamed Laban. “You idiot!”

Nathan’s chest heaved dramatically until he was finally able to take a full breath. Still on the ground, Nathan quickly formed a giant blue fireball and cast it straight into Luke’s back. Luke released an awful cry as the flames spread over the back of his body. “Aaah!” he bellowed, his muscular arms and over-sized hands wailing at his back. “Brother!”

Laban stared blankly at
him and shook his head. Dismayed, Luke cast Laban a grim look before he bee-lined through the dark hallway they had used earlier to enter the store. Not too long after, the Soul Collector, who lingered among the shadows, followed suit.

“How does Lucius expect me to get anything done when I’m surrounded by idiots!” groaned Laban. He seethed as the darkness in the hal
lway faded, revealing the hallway light. “I can’t believe that muscle-bound idiot left me!”

“Put her down!” demanded Nathan, now on his feet. Malick joined him at his side.

Laban snarled and with both her hands, Leah grappled with the hand around her neck, and tried to break free. “Now!” reiterated Nathan, and he produced a raging blue fireball that hovered fiercely above the palm of his hand.

The room began to fade back to color and, si
tting next to a nearby chair, the silver and gold metals of the crescent shaped-medallion glinted in the light. “Here!” shouted Laban, and he forcibly threw her at them. “I’ve found what I needed.”

Nathan and Malick’s eyes grew wide as they tried to catch Leah in the air. Laban smiled, r
evealing his perfect white teeth, as he strolled over toward the chair. “Finally!” he uttered, “Pius’s medallion.”

Laban bent over to pick it up but, instead, froze. There was a sharp, almost paralyzing, pain radiating from the ce
nter of his body. He looked down, searching for the source, and he saw it. The blood-soaked silver blade protruded out of his chest.

Slowly, Laban turned around.
The blade still impaled in his back, the tip sticking out of his chest. “Uh, hi,” stuttered Alan, displaying a timid but bloody wave. “Isn’t this the part of the story where you collapse and die now?”

“Almost impressive,” said Laban, and he seized him by the neck, lifting Alan
into the air.

“It’s all over,” said Sweet Pea, closing in on Laban. She eyed his bloody wound. “Put him down and surrender now while you still have a chance.”

“Uh, he’s a Fallen One,” whispered Taylor.

“I know that,” mumbled Sweet Pea, shooing at him.

“Oh, okay,” said Taylor, sarcastically, and with a nod. “Then if he surrenders, what are we going to do with him?”

“Shh!” groaned Sweet Pea.

“Y–you know,” said Alan, through a slew of coughs. “You really do have a bad habit of picking up people. I promise you, a shopping addiction is much better.”

Laban looked around the room and frowned at all the piles of ash and swords left behind by the Shadow Guard. “You mortals have a lot to learn,” he said, staring into the faces of the su
rrounding Vanguard. The once raging fire in his eyes was now just a flicker, and they could see the pain on his face as he pulled out the sword. “Just because you managed to wound me doesn’t mean you have beat me!”

“Looks like you’re about to die to me,” said Taylor.

Laban tossed the blood-soaked sword and it echoed when it hit the ground. He reached into the pocket of his ruby red robe, revealing a sparkling purple vial, and placed it to his lips. “Somebody stop him,” yelled Jax. “Don’t let him get away!”

For a brief second, Laban’s failing fiery eyes flashed a bright purple and Sweet Pea, Taylor and the other Vanguard drew their swords, a
ttempting to close in on him. “Like I said,” he whispered to Alan, sounding almost snake-like. “Almost impressive, but not impressive enough.”

In a blink of an eye, he tossed Alan right through the large
storefront window. Nathan and the others shielded their eyes as shards of glass went everywhere. Nathan still caught a glimpse of the swirling white and blue lights as Laban transformed into a screeching black hawk, and then vanished out of sight.

 

 

 

17

WHO TO TRUST?

“Alan!” screamed Angela. She ran out of the shoe store in a blonde blur, followed by Lafo
nda, Mrs. Devaro, and several Vanguards.

Nathan hurried behind Malick to the front entrance, but stopped immediately after he noticed Leah was missing. “What are you doing?” asked Nathan, approaching her from the side. “We need to check on Alan.”

Leah continued to search the ground, rummaging through shoes and empty shoeboxes. She didn’t stop to acknowledge him. “Leah?” he said again, but this time with a frown.

Nathan watched as Leah peeked over her shoulder at the two remaining members of the Vanguard before stealthy scooping up the m
edallion. “Umm, maybe I should hold on to that?” whispered Nathan, being cognizant of possible listeners.

“And why would you need to do that?” asked Leah, col
dly. She found her brown knitted bag buried underneath several boxes of shoes and then shoved the medallion inside. She looked around, and eyed the Vanguard. She whispered. “We already talked about this, Nathan. It’s my medallion and I’ll take care of it.”

Leah proceeded past him and Nathan quickly took ahold of her arm. “When did it become
your
medallion?” he whispered. “This doesn’t sound right, Leah.” He stepped in closer. “I think you’re getting too attached to it.”

“Attached?” she asked, taking back her arm. “Do you not see my face, and my hair?” Nathan appeared sorrowful as he looked over her bruised lip and wrist, and then at her di
scombobulated hair. “I could have died today, but I didn’t. Having this medallion saved my life, but I wouldn’t expect you to understand. Not everyone is the Firewalker.”

“I think the sales woman will be alright!” shouted Taylor. He continued to kneel down next to her. “She’s just unco
nscious. We probably will need someone to heal her memories.”

“Is everything okay over here?” asked Sweet Pea, who moved to approach Leah and Nathan. She continued to clutch the sword at her side. “We really should leave the store before other customers arrive or, worse, the Fallen Ones r
eturn with reinforcements.”

“I’m going to go check on Alan,” said Leah, forcing a smile. She placed the crochet strap over her shoulder and headed
outside.

“I’m going outside too,” said Taylor, quickly coming t
oward them and carefully avoiding the scattered shoeboxes. “One of us will need to go back pronto. I’m sure we’ll need the healer to take care of their friend too — that is, if he’s still alive.”

Sweet Pea followed Taylor. Nathan started to come with
them, but stopped after hearing the sound of crunching glass beneath his feet. The space between Nathan’s eyebrows frowned as he examined the purple substance, and particles of glass that now lay spread across the carpet. Next to both was a sparkling blue vial.

“Power-transferring potions,” said Swee
t Pea.

“Huh?” asked Nathan, pausing to pick up the blue via
l. He examined it in the light.

“Power-transferring potions,” she said again. “The Fallen One must’ve used the purple vial to escape from our realm and into the Spirit Realm.”

“The Space-In-Between,” mumbled Nathan and Sweet Pea nodded. He held out the blue vial. “I’ve seen them do it before, use potions to travel between realms. But this is the first time I’ve seen them transform into an animal to do it.”

“Power-transferring potions involve the blood of the pe
rson you want to take the ability from. After the potion is taken, the effect doesn’t last long,” said Sweet Pea. Nathan continued to look on inquisitively. “The color that the potion takes depends on the ability.”

With a guarded look on her face, she carefully looked around the room before placing her sword into what a
ppeared to be a leather scabbard. “Based on the purple color, I’m guessing the blood in that vial belonged to a Spirit Walker,” said Sweet Pea. She smiled and Nathan noticed a line of dark brown freckles across the bridge of her nose. “That, and the fact that he transformed into a loud and obnoxious hawk before disappearing.”

“Sweet Pea, come quick!” yelled Taylor. He shouted from the now shattered storefront wi
ndow. “We need to do something fast. I don’t think he’s going to make it.”

Nathan placed the sparkling blue vial into his pants poc
ket and, with Sweet Pea behind him, dashed out of the store.

The alley was completely dark now and the light from the store illuminated the swirling clouds of fog. Nathan heard the faint sound of people and cars from the busy street that was a short distance
away.

“Somebody, do something!” sobbed Angela. Nathan heard her voice but had trouble finding her in
the fog.

The glass from the large storefront window crunched b
eneath his tennis shoes as he made his way to Lafonda and Mrs. Devaro, who huddled with the others. Nathan approached Lafonda from the side and gasped. In the middle of the group and seated on the ground were Angela and Alan. Angela was covered in blood as she methodically rocked Alan’s lifeless body back and forth.

“We’ve never lost a civilian before,” said Taylor. He placed his hands on top of his blond buzz-cut head and b
egan to pace. “If he dies, how are we going to explain this to Master Percy? We were only dispatched to perform a routine patrol of the area, to follow-up on the disturbance reported a week ago.” With wide blue-eyes, he frantically turned to the Huntress. “Did you not see this coming?”

“I’m just a Dream Walker,” responded the Huntress in defense. “You know I don’t see ev
erything with my visions, so don’t try to pin this on me.”

Nathan tried not to stare at the large piece of glass that protruded from the center of Alan’s chest and immediately turned away when Ang
ela looked up at him. He didn’t want her to see his reaction to the gruesome sight.

“Don’t you dare die on me, Alan D
onovan!” she cried.

“What is taking so long for your guys t
o come back!” demanded Lafonda.

Taylor turned to look at Sweet Pea. There was still a look of desperation in his face. “I sent Jinks and Jax to get Ms. Pam,” he said. “They used a power-transferring potion to create a doorway to get back.”

“We need to get him to a hospital, now!” said Lafonda. She turned to look at Nathan and then at Malick. She abruptly dialed on her cell phone. “I’m not going to just sit here and watch him die.”

“We can’t risk it,” said Sweet Pea. Swiftly, the Huntress took the
cell phone from Lafonda’s hand.

“Excuse me!” shouted Lafonda, aggressively stepping i
nto the Huntress’s face.

“Hold on!” said Malick, immediately getting between them. “This isn’t the time to fight.”

“There won’t be a fight as long as Lara Croft-wannabe in a jumpsuit here gives me back my cell phone!”

“He’s right,” said Sweet Pea, approaching them. She had a welcoming smile on her face after her eyes connected with Malick. He quickly shook his head at her and then immed
iately turned away.

Sweet Pea looked confused by Malick’s reaction, but eventually gestured for the Huntress to return Lafonda’s cell phone. “I know you care about your friend but we can’t risk taking him to the hospital. Even with a healer, we can’t risk it. The healing effect can only erase memories caused by some trauma or stress.

“And it’s against our code!” said Taylor. “We can’t do or say anything that may alert our e
xistence to the authorities — or civilians.” He began to pace again. “This was supposed to be a routine follow-up patrol about an incident involving some low level minions, some Fear Feeders, or some Screeching Sirens. We weren’t authorized to go up against the Fallen Ones. We should have followed protocol and reported the vision!”

“What?” shouted the Huntress. “There was no time for protocol — they would probably all be dead!”

“Fear Feeders? Screeching Sirens?” asked Nathan.

“The Walking Dead, or Shadow People,” whispered Malick. “Soul Collectors, Fear Feeders, Screeching Sirens — they’re all created by the Scarlet Priests.

“Wait,” responded Nathan. “Like the Necrocritters?”

Malick nodded. “Yup, the only difference is they were all once human.”

“No!” shouted Angela. Alan’s entire body went into co
nvulsions.

“Somebody, do something!” shouted Lafonda, and Am
elia held her back to prevent her from aiding Angela.

The convulsions continued violently and blood spilled from Alan’s mouth. All at once, Alan stopped moving and there was silence around the circle. “No!” sobbed Angela. She pulled him close to her body,
cradling him.

“Is he dead?
” asked Taylor.

Sweet Pea frowned. She glared at him disa
pprovingly and shook her head. Immediately, Taylor’s cheeks flushed and he lowered his head.

“You can’t die on me, Alan,” continued Angela. Tears from her puffy red eyes fell gently on his face. “It’s not su
pposed to end this way. There are so many things we’re supposed to do together. How am I supposed to live without my best friend?”

“Check his pulse,” said Swe
et Pea, motioning to Taylor.

“No, stay away from him!” yelled Angela, shi
elding Alan from Taylor’s hand.

Sadness fell on the circle and tears filled their eyes. Jon
athan placed a gentle hand on Lafonda’s shoulder before passing her and Amelia to kneel close to Angela. “Can I?” he said, softly.

“I can’t leave him,” whispered Angela. Slowly, she turned to look at Jonathan. “I know in my heart that he would never leave me.”

Jonathan turned to look up at Nathan and the others. “I just need to check his pulse. You don’t have to leave him.”

Jonathan placed a hand on Angela’s shoulder. She stopped rocking Alan and then whispered in his ear. “Don’t be afraid,” she said. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m still here.” She turned to look at Jonathan and then slowly no
dded.

“I love you, Alan,” she whispered. She sobbed and her tears continued to fall. She leaned in to kiss him, but froze. As each teardrop landed on Alan’s face, they glowed.

“W–what?” blurted Taylor. He had a surprised look on his face. “She’s a healer?”

Soon a healthy glow began to emanate from Angela, e
ngulfing Alan’s body. Angela had a surprised look on her face when Alan’s hand moved to clutch the cell phone in his hand.

“This is taking longer than it normally does,” said Taylor. He turned to look at Sweet Pea. “Shouldn’t he be healed by now?”

Jonathan’s hand hovered over the large piece of glass that protruded from Alan’s chest. “Under normal circumstances, I would strongly advise against this, and it definitely goes against my EMT training but.…”

Quickly, Jonathan pulled out the large piece of glass from Alan’s chest, leaving behind an equally large gaping hole. Angela’s mouth fell open, but before she could get a word in, the hole, suffused with light, closed.

Alan opened his eyes and the wound on his chest appeared completely healed. The glowing light that had surrounded him dissipated and it appeared Angela was going to collapse.

“Angela!” shouted Lafonda, breaking free from her mother.

“I’m okay,” she said. She immediately tried to gain composure and then took a hold of Alan’s free hand.

“Healing takes a lot of energy,” commented Sweet Pea. “The Healer’s Pneuma, or spirit e
nergy, is heavily taxed. It can be quite severe, depending on the extent of the injuries of the person they are healing.”

“Or not,” added Taylor. He winked at Angela. “If the Healer is strong, then it will barely phase them.” He turned to look at Jonathan. “How did yo
u know to pull out the glass?”


I just had a hunch,” said Jonathan with a shrug.

Several twinkling blue lights appeared in the darkness, drawing closer to the group. The tiny blue lights hovered in the air for a moment before elongating into
two doorways.

“Draw your swords,” said Sweet Pea, and Ta
ylor and the Huntress appeared alarmed. Sweet Pea unsheathed her sword. “In case it isn’t them.”

“Jinks and Jax!” said the Huntress, sounding relieved.
They smiled at her, after exiting one of the blue doors.

Taylor gave her a cold glare.

“What?” asked the Huntress. “I’ve had enough excitement for one day. And honestly, I don’t think we are ready to go up against the Fallen Ones.”

“What!” he exclaimed. “That’s what we do. That’s what we train for.” He laid his arms across his chest and shook his head. “You know the creed. Only with the knowledge of good, will mankind wield the mighty sword to end the reign of the Fallen Ones. Don’t tell me you are afraid, Diana?”

“Leave her alone, Taylor,” said Jinks. She peered over her dark sunglasses and pulled her long pink-colored bangs to the side. “You can be such a bully sometime.”

“God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power and love,” said Jonathan.

BOOK: Drawing Bloodlines
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