The Original Sin (Skye Morrison Vampire Series, #3) (2 page)

“He is definitely delicious in bed,” I unabashedly confided as I readjusted my sunglasses on my nose and laid back on the lounger.

I was having an enjoyable dream about hot summer days, swimming pools, and cold margaritas.  Trey, Nikki and I were lounging out by Archer’s massive pool in our finest swimwear, girl-talking, when abruptly the scenery started to morph and my pleasant company faded away.

I suddenly found myself back in the bleakly lit, dank basement where Amun took me when he kidnapped me just a few weeks ago.  My heart pounded rapidly in my chest as I fearfully absorbed my surroundings.  The room was just as I remembered it; my chains were tight, cold and unforgiving around my wrists and the drops of water from the metal spigot in the wall dripped slowly, a counterpoint to my wildly beating heart. 

I tugged on my confines in a desperate attempt to free myself.  As before I was chained to the ceiling, my arms splayed apart. 
Please, no…not again
, I silently whimpered as I tugged harder. 

Sadly, these dreams were nothing new to me.  I’d been having them almost nightly since my abduction.  In the dreams I had, I was always alone; Amun and Martin were blissfully absent, thank God. 

I silently willed myself to remain calm as I took a few deep breaths.  I knew from experience that these dreams never lasted long. 

Only a few minutes had passed when I heard the telltale creak of the basement door opening.  My eyes immediately flew to the stairs and I watched in horror as Amun, the father of all vampires and my former torturer, slowly descended.

Panic stricken I began to cry.  “You’re not real,” I stumbled aloud in between sobs as I frantically jerked on the cold confines of my chains.  Fear coursed through me as he came closer, a look of absolute calm on his face.

“I assure you child, I am very real,” he spoke quietly as he came to a stop in front of me.

I shut my eyes tightly and shook my head. 
Please God, just let me wake up.  Please.

“What did I tell you about your god, Skye?” he gently admonished as I bravely opened my eyes, meeting his.  He slowly lifted one hand and wiped the tears from my left cheek.  “He does not exist.”

“My God is real, it’s you that isn’t.  This is just a dream…a really fucked up one I’ll admit, but a dream nonetheless.  I’ll wake up soon and you’ll just be a distant memory,” I breathed fearfully.

He seemed to ignore my words as he reached up his hand and thoughtfully lifted a long lock of my bright auburn hair.  He tilted his head as he studied me and then delicately trailed one of his fingers across my clavicle and down my shoulder.  I shivered in revulsion and tried to pull away unsuccessfully. 

“This ensemble is inappropriate,” he said of my neon yellow bikini, eyeing it with distaste.

I looked down at my chest and watched in amazement as I was suddenly in a flowing, white Grecian-style dress.  Amun adjusted the gathered fabric at my left shoulder and smoothed the lightweight linen down my hip.  He slowly lifted his hand to touch my hair again and this time it disappeared from its usual resting place and swept itself into an up-do. 

I watched warily as Amun took a step back and admired his handiwork.  “You look stunning,” he said matter-of-factly.  “A look fit for a queen.”

“I am not your queen,” my brow furrowed as I whispered.  His respectful treatment confused me.  This was drastically different from our real time spent together in this same basement a few weeks ago.  I couldn’t figure out what my subconscious was trying to do.  The real Amun would never be this nice to me.

“One day you will not hate me,” he smirked as he turned his back to me.  I saw a high-backed wooden chair appear out of nowhere as he gingerly took a seat upon it, facing me.  I watched as he crossed his legs and brought his templed fingers to his lips.  He gazed at me thoughtfully.

“Don’t count on it,” I huffed as I tugged on the cold chains at my wrists.  My tears had slowed and were starting to dry tightly on my cheeks.  “Why the hell am I even dreaming about you?  I don’t understand.  And, why the hell is my subconscious trying to paint you as some kind of nice guy?  You’re not nice.  You’re a monster who tortured me mercilessly for days!”

He touched one hand to his chest and feigned surprised innocence.  “Me?  I did not torture you.  I merely contained you for my needs.”

“You hit me, you sick son of a bitch!” I spat, jerking quickly on my chains with the rage I felt.  “You sliced me open and nearly bled me out in the middle of the street, ripped my hair out along with a piece of my scalp, kept me chained to a pipe for days and worst of all…worst of all you allowed Martin to feed from me.”

He suddenly flashed in front of me and took a moment to inspect my forearm, head, and face.  “Yes, about that,” Amun purred.  “It’s fascinating.  How are there no marks upon your body?  How have you completely healed from your wounds?  Even your scalp has healed.”

I roughly jerked my face out of his hands and leaned back away from him as far as I could.  “If you think I’m telling you anything, you’ve lost your damn mind.” 
WAKE UP!
I silently screamed to myself.

He leaned back and studied me impassively.  “I control you here, child.  I decide when to allow you to awaken.  There is nothing you can do.”

“That’s bullshit.  This is my dream and you are just my subconscious trying to piss me off or something.  You are nothing but a bad memory.  The real Amun is probably hiding in a hole somewhere too afraid to show his pathetic face because he knows The Faithful are working hard to find him and put an end to his useless life.”

“You break my heart,” he sighed and in a very modern show of emotion, sarcastically rolled his eyes.  “I am tens of thousands of years old.  You actually think they have a chance in Hades of finding me?  I will find and kill all of Cináed’s line and they can do nothing to stop me.” Amun stepped closer to me and tenderly stroked my left cheek.  His touch felt icy and smooth.  “I will have my revenge child.  There is nothing anyone can do to dissuade me from my mission.  I lay chained in that tomb for well over a thousand years thinking of nothing but killing Cináed.  Since his body has long been ash, I will kill his blood.  Retribution will be mine.”

My bottom lip quivered as I started to realize that this wasn’t just an ordinary dream.  My panicked eyes once again swept the room looking for any signs that would tell me this was all in my sleeping head.

“I told you this was real,” Amun whispered as he stepped back to his chair. 

My heartbeat thundered in my chest, my eyes wide with panic.  I shook my head slowly.  “No.  I don’t believe you.”

“It’s of no consequence,” he flicked his wrist disinterestedly as he sat back down.  “Now tell me, how are you?”

I swallowed thickly and blinked at him, utterly at a loss for words.

“How are you adjusting?”

“A-Adjusting?  Adjusting to what?  I…I have no idea what you are talking about,” I swallowed again.

Amun flashed to his feet and distractedly scanned the ceiling.  “There is no more time,” he sighed, looking back at me, a displeased look upon his face.  “We will meet again my child.”  He and the room began to fade.

*****

Someone had a firm grip on my shoulders and was roughly shaking me.  My eyes flew open and Archer Rhys, my boss/crush/temporary roommate/vampire maker to my current boyfriend was hovering over me, his hands still firmly grasping my shoulders.  His eyes immediately softened from their panicked look into one of relief.

“What are you doing?” I groaned, confused as I tried to sit up.

Archer slid his hands down my arms and stood up.  “We couldn’t wake you.”

“What?”  I looked around to see Jameson sitting on the white chaise lounge by the bed, his eyes wide with unmasked distress.

“You were thrashing in your sleep, mumbling over and over the word ‘No’ and I just spent the last five minutes trying to wake you up before I gave up and got Archer,” he explained, his brow furrowed.

“Are you okay?” Archer asked worriedly, crossing his arms over his broad chest and looking down at me.

I sat up and shook my head to clear the sleep, ran my fingers through my long hair and sighed.  “Um…yeah.  I’m fine.  It was just a dream I guess.”

Archer looked at me skeptically and pursed his lips.  “Can you remember your dream?”

I looked down at my clutched hands and chewed on the inside of my bottom lip.  “No,” I lied.

“Has this ever happened to her before?” Archer addressed Jameson.

“Not to my knowledge,” he answered, his voice filled with concern.  “She’s talked in her sleep and cried out a few times, but nothing like this.”

“Archer, I’m fine,” I sighed.  “Really.”

He turned back to me and sat down on the edge of my bed.  I clutched my covers tighter and met his worried eyes with my wary ones.  “I thought the nightmares had subsided.”

I looked over at Jameson accusatorily and he at least had the couth to appear ashamed of breaking my confidence.  Since Jameson and I were dating, he slept with me some nights in my downstairs bedroom at Archer’s house.  I had no choice but to confide in him after he witnessed my first nightmare starring the dank east Austin basement soon after Jameson, Archer, and Aoife freed me from that hell.

I narrowed my eyes at Jameson, shook my head in disbelief then turned back to Archer.  “You both need to chill out.  It’s not a big deal, really.  I’m fine.”

Archer ran his long fingers through his chestnut hair and sighed, turning to Jameson.  He addressed him quietly in rapid Irish Gaelic.  I looked back and forth between them a few times until finally I had had enough of being left out of the conversation.

“You know that’s just plain rude,” I grumbled, crossing my arms over my chest.  “If you’re going to talk in front of me, you could at least have the decency to use English please, gentlemen.”

Jameson chuckled and looked at Archer again.  Archer nodded his head once and Jameson turned back to me.  “Archer was just telling me that when he was trying to wake you he couldn’t get a read on your mind.”  I frowned at Archer as Jameson continued.  Archer knew I didn’t like him peering into my mind.  “He was saying that it felt like something was trying to keep him out.”

“The thing trying to keep you out was me, you damn busybody,” I scoffed, shaking my head.  “You know how much I hate that.  Anyway, you said it yourself that you can’t read my mind all of the time.”

Archer smirked and leaned over, placing a swift kiss my forehead.  “We just worry about you Skye.  That’s all.  You should really talk to someone about your dreams though.  Would you like me to make an appointment with a psychologist for you?  Some therapy might be beneficial; you were kidnapped and tortured, after all.  There are discreet professionals out there that are friends to our community.  You would be able to speak freely with them.”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” I smiled tightly.  “They’re just silly dreams.  I’m all right, guys.  Stop worrying so much, geez.”

 “Have it your way,” Archer smiled and winked at me before getting up and strolling to the door.  “Gunnar will be delivering your breakfast shortly, so I suggest you get a move on.  Everyone is waiting.”

I smiled and thanked him as he walked out the door.  Ever since I was rescued everyone had been making more of an attempt to be a so-called family.  Every morning we sat and had breakfast together at the kitchen table.  It took some adjusting at first; you know, because of the whole drinking blood thing while I sat there trying to eat my toast, but it worked and I really enjoyed it and the conversations.  Every night when we came home from the club we’d do the same thing.  They were kind of like the brothers and sisters I never had.  I didn’t think I’d be enjoying my stay here as much as I was.  After all, I was forced at first to live in a house full of vampires against my will.  The threat of Amun coming back was still strong, so for Archer and Jameson’s piece of mind, I agreed to stay here until he was either caught or dead.  But when I did, I didn’t think it was going to take The Faithful as long as it had to find him.  It had already been three weeks and they always seemed to be a step behind Amun, Jameson confided in me.

I stood up out of bed and stepped the few feet over to Jameson.  I leaned down and planted a chaste kiss on his soft lips.  “You need to learn to keep these shut, baby,” I smirked, momentarily displeased with him for breaking my confidence and telling Archer about my nightmares.  “Now scoot.  I need to take a quick shower.  I’ll meet you out there.” I turned and made my way into the adjoining bathroom and spent the next ten minutes soaking up as much hot water as I could, desperately trying to drive away the remaining chill from my terrifying nightmare.

“Again!” Hagan growled as his powerful, towering body stood over me, sword in hand.

I grunted as I slowly pulled myself up off the floor and bent to retrieve the sword I had been using to spar with.  I wiped the sweat from my brow and got back into position; my sword pointed to his throat at the ready.

“Focus, Morrison,” Hagan said sternly as he got back into the on point position himself.  “You are not leaving here until you get this right.”

“Sir?” Trey said worriedly from the corner of the basement where he was sparing with Jameson, “I think she needs to rest for a minute.” 

“Eyes on Doyle, Hatfield!” Hagan barked as he engaged me.

I moved my sword just in time to parry his attack.  The screech of metal on metal hurt my teeth and my arms burned fiercely from the great effort it took to stop Hagan’s momentum.  I twisted my body around to his right side quickly as I disengaged and took the offensive. 

“Nice,” Hagan grinned as he easily blocked my next move.  “You’re getting better at this Morrison.”

I ignored him as I focused on the movement of his body.  He attacked and I easily parried, sidestepping as I brought my leg forward, hooked around his, and pushed with my sword and body, knocking him down.  I didn’t expect him to go down as easily as he did and I ended up falling on top of him, my sword at his throat.

Hagan’s eyes shone with the laughter he was suppressing.  “You didn’t mean to fall, did you?”

“Hell no,” I grunted as I rolled off of him and onto my back next to him, breathing heavily.  “But it worked, and it looked good, didn’t it?”

Hagan actually chuckled as he flashed with vampire speed to stand up. He extended his arm to me in an offer to help me stand. 

“No, I’m good,” I said as I dropped my sword and waved my hand in the air in surrender.  “I need a minute here to catch my breath.”

Hagan smiled as he picked up my sword and stood over me.  “That’ll do for today, I suppose.  You managed to get me on the ground, so that’s an improvement, but I want you back down here again tomorrow so we can pick up where we left off.”

“With you on your ass?” I smiled widely.

“Don’t push it Morrison or I’ll make you go again,” Hagan said, fighting a smile.

“Yes sir,” I nodded my head, trying and failing miserably to suppress my smirk, “Sorry sir.”

“Good girl,” he smiled lopsidedly at me as he turned and walked over to the wall, putting the swords back in their cases.

I closed my eyes and tried to catch my breath.  Hagan had been training me every morning for the past two weeks nonstop.  Ever since Amun took me, Archer and Hagan had been riding my ass hard, pushing me to train in every area with every weapon available.  My body had never been so sore; I was using muscles that I hadn’t even known I possessed.  I was putting myself through this daily pain so that I wouldn’t have to feel like a victim ever again.  Of course, there wasn’t anything I could have done to save myself since I was chained up during my captivity, but at least this would help me feel better.

“You look like you could use some water love,” Jameson spoke and I opened my eyes to see him standing above my head, looking down at me with a sexy grin on his face.

“Yes, please,” I sighed tiredly as I dragged myself into a sitting position.

Jameson crouched down in front of me and handed me a cool bottle of water.  I eagerly unscrewed the cap and promptly sucked down half its contents.

“So have you decided yet if you’re going to come with me tonight, or are you just going to hang out at the club instead?” Jameson inquired as he took a seat beside me on the mat.

“I wish I had the night off, too,” Trey said, eyeing the door Hagan had just exited as he sat down in front of us and crossed his ankles.  “I haven’t had the pleasure of attending one of The Manky Langer’s shows before.”

“Are you sure Archer won’t let you off just for tonight?” I asked as I put the bottle down and began stretching my arms.

“Yes,” Trey sighed, nodding his head regretfully.  “I asked but Archer is still worried about Amun showing up or using someone else to get inside The Mausoleum.  He said he can’t spare my talents and that I’m needed at the door every night.  I’d come if I could honey, trust me.”

I groaned and looked over at Jameson.  “Well count me in.  I don’t want to have to spend another one of my days off at the club again.  I’m in desperate need of a change of scenery and some fun.”

I had been given a day off each workweek, but I was forced to tag along with the group to The Mausoleum.  Archer was hell-bent on protecting me and, despite how much I begged, wouldn’t even let me out by myself to run errands.  He blamed himself for my kidnapping and torture and saw to it that I was under full watch twenty four seven.  I was glad he finally got tired of me begging him enough to relent and let me out.

“Archer is asking Killian and Emrick to tag along with us tonight if you’re going,” Jameson said.

The army of The Faithful appointed Killian to us after Marcán’s death.  Ruarc, the second in command of all The Faithful, insisted we also take Emrick as an added boost to security.  From what I gathered they were some of the top fighters An Dílis had and we were damn lucky to have them.  I didn’t know them as well as I knew Hagan and Pádraig but they seemed nice and very professional.

I looked over at Jameson, surprised.  “We’re just going to Drop Kick Dan’s.  Why is Archer making both of them come with us?  Isn’t one bodyguard enough?”

“You know how protective Archer is of you,” Jameson mumbled, running his hand through his shoulder-length hair. 

That had been a sore subject between us for the past few weeks.  Jameson was well aware of his brother’s feelings for me and wasn’t too thrilled about them.  Also, I suspected that he knew I secretly returned Archer’s feelings as well.  I was a whole bundle of confused emotions when it came to the two of them.  All that said though, I would never be unfaithful to Jameson.  I cared deeply about him and would never do anything to hurt his feelings.  The shared kiss between Archer and I when I thought he was dying was still a secret from Jameson, as far as I knew.  I’d tell Jameson about it, but why hurt him unnecessarily?  It happened in the heat of the moment and was, what I thought, a dying man’s last request.  It was in the past and would hopefully stay there.

“I know,” I sighed.  “Do you think we can get there a little early?  I’d like to visit with everyone before the show.  I haven’t seen Nikki in weeks.”

“Sure babe,” Jameson smiled.

I bit my bottom lip and looked down at my hands.  I wanted to ask Jameson’s permission to do something, but I didn’t know how he’d take it.

“Um, so…” I started timidly, “I was wondering if it would be okay if I invited Dean out with us tonight, you know because I still haven’t gotten a chance to thank him for helping in my rescue.”

Jameson growled lowly, unhappy with my wanting to see Dean.  I looked over at Trey for help.

“You know,” Trey immediately spoke up as he took a deep breath, his brow furrowed in thought, “I don’t think I’ve seen him since they brought you back.  He hasn’t been to the club in a few weeks…neither have any of his wolves.  I personally think it would be the neighborly thing to do.  After all, we do have to peacefully coexist with them.  Who knows, we may need the Kaxaw pack’s services again in the future.  A ‘thank you’ is just good manners, don’t you think Jameson?”

I smiled at Trey, thanking him with my eyes for his help, and turned back to Jameson.  Jameson’s lips were pursed unhappily, but I could tell that he was seriously thinking about what Trey said.

“So?” I whispered hopefully after a few anxious seconds.  I genuinely felt bad about how I left things with Dean before I was kidnapped.  I’d had a few weeks to reconcile with the fact that werewolves existed and he was one.  I not only wanted to thank him for assisting in my rescue, but I also wanted to apologize for my behavior towards him the night of.  We ended things on a pretty bad note.

“All right,” Jameson begrudgingly relented with a sigh.  “I just don’t want him hitting on you while I’m up on stage.”

I scoffed as I stood on my knees and hugged his neck.  “As if, sweetheart.  He’s not interested in me like that; we’re just acquaintances.  And besides, you know you’re the only man for me baby.  I wouldn’t be receptive of his attention even if he did try, which he won’t, so just relax.  A bodyguard will be with me at all times and, due to the longstanding feud between you guys, I’m sure he wouldn’t waste an opportunity to break a wolf’s neck if given half the chance.”

Jameson wrapped his arms around me and flashed us to the ground, me on my back and him on top of me, his delicious hips between my thighs.  I squealed at the unexpectedness of it and laughed.  He playfully smiled down at me and gently nipped at my bottom lip.

“Oh dear,” Trey groaned and chuckled as he covered his eyes and stood up.  “I think I’ll save myself some unnecessary trauma and leave you heterosexuals to it, then.  Have fun you two.”

I tried unsuccessfully to mutter a heartfelt apology, but Jameson was busy making sure my mouth was otherwise occupied.

*****

Jameson left me so he could take a shower upstairs and I decided to make a quick call to Tricky Dic’s before I took my own.  I really wanted Dean to join us out at Drop Kick’s tonight for a beer or two and hoped he would agree to meeting me.

“Tricky Dic’s.  What can I do for you?” a familiar masculine voice asked as he picked up the line.

“Um…hi.  Is Dean available?” I asked as I hopped up on my bathroom counter and finished taking off my chipped red toenail polish.

“Depends on who’s asking,” the guy rumbled deeply. 

“This is Skye Morrison,” I offered.

“Sure,” he said after a few seconds.  “Just a sec…I’ll get him for you.”

I smiled and thanked him before I was put on hold.  The short wait was made even shorter by the awesome dubstep music that flowed over the line.  Bassnectar pumped a funky beat and I found myself bouncing slightly on the counter, my free leg swinging, as I finished the remaining two toenails.

“Well, well, well…if it isn’t the stranger herself.  How’s it going, toots?  I didn’t know if I’d ever hear from you again.” Dean said lightheartedly.

“I could say the same for you, mister,” I smiled, happy to hear his voice.  “You haven’t been to the club lately.  What’s up with that?”

Dean took a deep breath and sighed.  I could hear the shift in his mood right before he answered honestly, “Well, I didn’t know if you wanted me around.  I just figured with the way we left things…”

“Yeah, about that,” I interjected quickly, “One of the reasons I called was to say that I’m sorry about how I reacted to your…news.  It was stupid, immature and judgmental of me and I sincerely apologize.  I know it took a lot of guts for you to tell me.  And, I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to call you.  Thank you for what you did for me…for all of us.  I would have said it sooner, but you haven’t been back to the club since everything went down.  I’m beginning to think you’re never coming back, so I wanted to make sure I called to tell you.”

Dean was quiet for a few moments and I found myself holding my breath, waiting for his response.  “So you’re not mad at me?” he asked quietly, completely unlike the Dean I had come to know.

I put the used cotton ball down on the counter and lowered my leg.  “No, honey.  Are you kidding me?” I asked; my brow furrowed in confusion.  “How could I be mad at you?  You saved my life Dean.  You dropped everything and you and your friends helped rescue me from that sadistic asshole.  I don’t think I would have been found without your help.  Jameson told me that you and your friends were the ones who tracked me to that house.  I owe my life to you guys.”

He sighed and cleared his throat.  “So, I uh…heard a little about what’s going on.  How are you dealing with everything?  Have they caught the guy who kidnapped you yet?”

It was my turn to sigh.  “No, not yet, but they’re working on it.  I won’t be able to fully relax until he is.  But speaking of relaxing,” I quickly changed the subject with a smile, “I was wondering if you had any plans for tonight.  Jameson has a show at Drop Kick Dan’s and I’m hoping I can persuade you to come out and have a few beers with me, my treat of course.”

“Well,” Dean chuckled and I could hear the smile return to his voice, “I suppose I can spare a few hours for a pretty girl.   But drinks are on me, Skye. I insist.”

I groaned and opened my mouth to argue, but Dean shushed me.  “A gentleman never lets a lady pay.  Besides, your pleasant company is payment enough.”

“Oh whatever, you big flirt,” I laughed as I hopped off the bathroom counter.  “Show starts at 9pm.  See you there?”

“With bells on babe,” Dean purred sexily and hung up.

I looked down at my cellphone as I worried my bottom lip. 
I hope he behaves himself tonight
, I silently thought.  I didn’t want Jameson reading too much into his flirtatiousness.  I seriously didn’t think that Dean had a thing for me, but some people might interpret his friendliness the wrong way. He seemed like the type of guy that genuinely had a flirty disposition and used it lightheartedly with all the girls.