Dark Heirloom (An Ema Marx Novel Book 1), page 2
“Yes.”
I tossed my hands in the air. “You’re unbelievable.”
“I’m old, Ema. I want to see my grandchildren before I die.”
“Stop being dramatic. You’re not that old, you’re only forty-nine, and I’m only twenty-three. I’m not going out and getting pregnant for you.”
“Can you at least find a nice doctor to take care of you after I’m gone?”
“Do you hear yourself? You’re not dying, Mama, you just need to get out of the house once in a while. Get a hobby or something.”
“I don’t want a hobby. I want a grandchild to spoil.”
“Even if I had a baby, you’d be the last person I’d allow to see it.” I winced, immediately regretting the words. Mom gasped. Whatever she said next would not be pretty.
“You ungrateful bitch. After all I did for you after your father left.”
Great, here we go again.
“You do this to me on purpose. You still blame me for what your father did!”
A heavy sigh passed my lips. “Mama, that was thirteen years ago. You know I don’t blame you for it, I never have.”
“Yes, you do. You’ve been an ungrateful brat since the day he left.”
“The only time I ever think of Dad is when you bring him up. You’re the one who needs to get over it.” At that, I turned on my heel and headed into my old room. I made a mistake coming here. I yanked on my coat and swung my backpack over my shoulder while heading to the front door.
“Where are you going?” she called out.
“Away. This is exactly why I don’t visit you.” I jerked open the front door.
“Fine, leave me here to rot. You are just like your father.”
“At least I’m not like you!” The door slammed shut. Furious, I marched down the sidewalk, retracing steps I’d taken a hundred times in my youth, to the train station downtown.
The sun had set by the time I stepped off the train at Union Station. The few dollar bills in my pocket ruled out taking a taxi home. I considered calling Anthony for a ride, but dismissed the idea. I doubted seeing him right now would do any good. Besides, I always enjoyed walking. It calmed my nerves. And, after that argument with Mom, my nerves could really use some calming. I’d done nothing but dwell on her words the whole train ride back.
My mind made up, I gripped the straps of my backpack and hauled the load onto my stiff shoulders. A sigh passed through my lips as I exited the station and began the trek home. Piercing wind roared through the streets, whipping my hair and clothes against my face. Looming granite buildings cast deep rectangular shadows in a pattern across the sidewalks. My stomach twisted in knots at all the alleys cloaked in pitch-black darkness. Were there always so many? A shiver rolled through my spine, followed by goose bumps raising the hairs along my neck.
I swallowed my nerves and reminded myself the cops were looking for my assailant. They might have even caught him already. However, as I pressed on, my steps became shaky. Something didn’t feel right. I paused under the dim glow of a street lamp and glanced around.
A tall, hourglass-figured woman materialized from the dark. She took a long, calculated step to the side, positioning herself in front of me. She cocked her chin and sneered. I swallowed the lump thickening in my throat as my pulse sped up. Her pale skin and deep green eyes matched my attacker’s from last night. Her lips curled, flashing a set of pointed teeth. Beads of sweat dampened my brow. Suddenly, I was running.
She laughed. Her voice carried like a bell. “You won’t escape this time.”
I glanced over my shoulder. She pointed a long fingernail at me, but didn’t follow. If she hadn’t looked so much like her male counterpart, I might have slowed. Instead, I ran all the way home. I paused in front of the main door, panting and out of breath, and shifted my backpack forward so I could dig for the spare key. That was a bad decision.
A solid object collided with my side. I fell over, hitting my head on the pavement. Something landed on my calf, and the bone snapped. Agonizing pain shot through my leg. A scream erupted from my lungs as I tried to push the thing off. A black mass unfolded itself and then rose. The green-eyed woman shimmered into vision, grinning in triumph.
I couldn’t believe it. The speed and force it must have required to catch up didn’t connect with her supermodel stature. I tried to stand, but collapsed under the pain. My lower leg lay at an odd angle. Blood soaked through my jeans at a rate that sent bile rising to my throat. The woman trembled as she clenched her hands, gritting her fang-like teeth. I followed the direction of her eyes; she stared at the small pool of bright red blood on the pavement. The freakish woman took half a step back, and then crouched, like a lioness ready to pounce. I tried to crawl away, but could only pull myself a few inches before the pain became unbearable. Tears dampened my cheeks while I tried to think of what to do.
A ferocious growl rolled through her fanged teeth. She lunged at me, her arms stretched forward with fingers arched like claws. My mind froze. Instinct pulled my arms over my face for useless protection. She landed on my stomach, and her weight knocked the air out of my lungs. A second sub-human growl came from behind her, and another shadow lurched towards us. It knocked the woman off me.
I couldn’t see where she landed, as I laid flat on my back in a daze, but the commotion of a fight raged nearby. Growls and hisses filled the night. My lungs worked desperately to suck in air. After a few minutes, I managed to sit up. Several feet in front of me, the woman sat hunched and licked at a wound on her arm. The same man who attacked me last night stood next to her, panting. He faced me, his eyes as bright as ever, and then closed the gap between us in three long strides.
My heart leaped into my throat. “No, leave me alone!”
He grabbed my shoulders with both hands and dragged me across the parking lot. I screamed as my back scraped against the frozen ground. My right leg dragged like meat on a string. The pain shot through my entire body, burning me from the inside out.
My attacker pulled me into an alley. The woman followed, but kept her distance. At the end of the lane, he uttered something in a foreign language and nodded at the brick wall.
Glaring, the woman stepped around, her back facing the wall. I screamed in horrendous pain as he pulled me to my feet—or foot, in my current state—and thrust me at the woman. I expected to fall flat on my face, but she caught me in her arms. She spun me around and propped me up so I faced the man.
The first time he attacked me, he seemed to enjoy it, taunting me with words that didn’t make any sense. Now, he was all business, his face serious as he focused on mine. The disgusting creature showed no emotion as he reached back and unsheathed the silver dagger.
“Please,” I begged as he pointed the dagger at my chest. I meant to continue pathetically pleading for my life, but the scene began to swirl. My heartbeat slowed as my breath grew shallow. I tried to speak, but no sound came from my lips, only muffled air.
My attacker cocked his head to the side and pursed his lips. I tried to focus, to hold on, but I felt I would float away at any second. Everything became a blur. For a moment, I was able to lock my gaze on his wicked green eyes. Then, darkness engulfed me.
Jalmari
“Voi vittu!” I cursed in Finnish as the female’s body went limp in Leena’s arms.
Leena addressed me in her native Greek. “Τι είναι αυτό? Get on with it, Jalmari. Her smell is sickening me.”
I directed my thoughts to her. I can’t. She is turning.
“What do you mean?” She glanced at the girl and wrinkled her nose. “What kind of sick bastard would bite a gypsy?”
I cocked an eyebrow.
She hissed. “It wasn’t me. You pushed me away before I could do a thing.”
“You still tried, did you not?”
“Only because she was already bleeding. Now kill her quickly, the smell is driving me crazy.”
“I am going to have to decapitate her now.”
“Fine.” Leena adjusted the girl’s weight, clearly bothered by the idea of more fresh blood spilled. I smirked and opened my mouth to comment, but our heads both perked at the rumble of a car engine. The sound was blocks away, but grew louder as it neared. The vehicle had a familiar vibration and scent to it.
I glanced at Leena. “Police.”
“Shit,” she muttered.
Come. I took the girl in my arms and inclined my head, gesturing for Leena to follow. We levitated, Leena as nothing more than black smoke. Normally I’d have transformed myself into mist as well, but carrying the girl in that form was extremely risky. I muttered curses at myself for allowing this, but what choice did I have? The rat was turning. A stabbed heart would be little more than a scratch now.
The bustling wind had little effect as I weaved through the shadows, avoiding witnesses. Most humans wouldn’t believe what they saw anyway, especially in late hours, but years of memories kept me wary. As if it wasn’t enough to discover a Romani living in Chicago, I now had the unfortunate knowledge that they were being fed upon. The fact that the vampyre hadn’t killed her could have been an accident, but they shouldn’t have been feeding from these pests in the first place. Didn’t they know the law? If the rules needed reinforcing, that could be arranged.
In a secluded park far away from human authorities, I descended, landing soundlessly on my feet. Leena followed suit, her body solidifying. “Do you really believe the Americans are out of line?”
“Someone is responsible for this. Hold her.” I pushed the girl’s body in Leena’s direction. She sneered as she caught the girl.
“So bossy tonight.”
I winced, knowing how she hated when I gave her orders, but now wasn’t time for delicacy or apologies. I pushed the girl’s darkening hair aside and unsheathed my dagger, then pressed the edge of the blade to her neck. Such a shame it would be to kill this beauty, who was now my kin, but the Romani had no place in this world as humans or vampires. I pressed down against her flesh. A thin trickle of red seeped forth.
“Stop!”
I froze. My eyes widened in disbelief at the voice in my head.
Leena glowered. “What do you mean ‘stop’?”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You thought it. You thought ‘stop’.”
I rubbed a palm against my temple. “I need to think. I need you to get out of my head… Please.”
Leena dropped her arms. The girl fell into a heap on the ground. “Fine.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and turned away. I waited a moment to be sure she was truly no longer reading my thoughts.
Then, finally, what do you want?
“Take the gypsy back to the castle. Let her heal.”
Are you mad?
Of course he’s mad. When had he ever been sane? I restated my accusation.
It’s against the law. Your law.
“No matter. I have plans for this one.”
I rolled my eyes.
Some sick experiment, I am sure.
The voice growled. Nevertheless, he receded back into the depths of my mind. I wished I could keep him locked inside. The damage done, I had no choice but to obey. I sheathed my dagger and knelt beside the girl. Gently, I cracked her broken bone in place so it would heal properly.
“What the hell are you doing?” Leena snapped as I cradled and lifted the girl.
“Do not read my thoughts right now,” I growled.
Her face shattered for the briefest moment before she straightened her back and hid behind her composure. Her fierce eyes narrowed to slits. “Then tell me why we are bringing her with us?”
I sighed. If only I could.
Chapter 3
A salty-metallic flavor slicked the back of my tongue and a warm sensation manifested in my right hand. It spread through my arm, then continued over my entire body. My eyelids fluttered opened.
Red silk hung over my head, draped in elaborate bunches tied with gold threads, to a canopy made of dark wood pieces. My vision fixated on the fabric. Each individual thread became apparent, the pattern of the weave coming to life—over two, under one. I pulled my arm out from under a thick, red comforter embroidered with gold stitching—two stitches in a loop followed by one long stitch—and rubbed my forehead. What on Earth happened last night?
Where am I now?
I pushed myself to a sitting position. The silk curtains of the canopy obscured my view of the room. I stretched my hand toward the lustrous fabric, but gasped at the sight of an intravenous needle and plastic medical tubes taped to the skin. Blood ebbed from the thin tubes, into my flesh. Instead of feeling alarmed or repulsed, my mouth watered and my stomach grumbled in hunger.
A high-pitched beep jerked me from my thoughts. I yanked the curtain away, revealing an IV stand from which hung a medical bag full of blood. Next to the rod stood a box-like machine that beeped and whirred as it read and printed my vital signs.
Am I in a hospital?
A single glance around the room suggested otherwise. The walls rose twenty feet high, accompanied by a lone window in the center of the left wall, and ended in a domed ceiling. Cream and coral wallpaper covered the perimeter with a Victorian flower pattern. Red velvet curtains cascaded over the window, drawn back with golden rope tied to iron hooks. The ropes ended in tassels. The threads that hung from the tassels were thick enough that I could count them; sixty-two on the right, sixty-three on the left.
An antique vanity and mirror stood to the right of the bed, topped off with a bowl of water and the strongest smelling powder-scented bar of soap I’d ever encountered. In the center of the room sat a white wicker table and two matching chairs. To the right was a large armoire, painted teal. The wall opposite the bed housed a fireplace. The glow of the flames stung my eyes despite the distance. I blinked rapidly, but still the sensation was like staring at a light bulb. I glanced away from the fire, dispelling the feeling.
Looking around the room, I realized there weren’t any lamps and the view past the window showed a night sky. The sole source of illumination came from the fire, but that didn’t make sense. The room wasn’t dark. Surely, there was a light fixture somewhere. I glanced at the door; no light switch. However, there was a life-size statue of a man standing just in the shadows. The statue blinked. I screamed.
He jumped, eyes wide, then held up his hands, palms forward. “Shh.”
I slapped a hand over my mouth to muffle a gasp. Okay, not a statue. A man. I noticed his eyes. Green, very green. But this guy wasn’t the same one who attacked me. For one thing, his eyes didn’t glow. His hair, black, flowed past his shoulders. His pale skin held a hint of blue undertones, like he’d gone swimming in very cold water.
I let my hand fall away from my mouth. “Who are you?”
He smoothed his pale-blue hands down the black cotton of his shirt. The top few buttons were undone and the tail hung over his black jeans. “Do not worry, you are safe.”
I nearly melted at his voice. His accent flowed like silk as he rolled the soft R’s. I glanced at my lap, hoping he wouldn’t notice the heat coloring my cheeks. “Could you please tell me where I am?”
From under my eyelashes, I watched him wet his lips and furrow his brow. His concern stirred my nerves. “I think we should begin with what happened.”
I glanced up. “Is it bad?”
He hesitated. “You have been unconscious for two days.”
“I what?” Two days? Holy cow. That meant it was already Monday. I pressed a hand to my temples. “How could this have happened?”
“You do not remember?”
I glanced at him. He had taken a step closer. I shook my head while trying to think. I remembered Mom, our argument, the train ride home. “I was walking home from the train station. I… I didn’t make it, did I?”
His gaze flickered to the side. “Do you remember your name?”
I nodded. “Yeah. My name’s Ema Marx.” Something snapped in my mind. The utterance of my name unlocked a floodgate of vivid memories haunted by the man who had tried to kill me. “Oh my God. I was attacked.”
“You lost a lot of blood.”
“My leg!” I flung the covers off. A white cotton nightgown dressed my body. My legs were bare; no cast, no bandages, no stitches, not even a bruise. I wiggled my toes in disbelief. My legs looked pale, but other than that, they were perfectly fine. “I… could have sworn my leg was broken.”
The bluish man cleared his throat. “It was.”
“Excuse me?”
“It was broken.”
I gave him a sidelong glance. “It healed in two days?”
A grin teased the left corner of his mouth. “Not exactly. It healed within the first day.”
I narrowed my eyes. Was that supposed to be a joke? I noticed how closely he resembled my attacker. Anger heated my blood. My jaw clenched, and I spoke through my teeth. “This isn’t a hospital, is it?”
He glanced at the floor and licked his lips. He inhaled and parted his mouth as if to speak, but then he faced the door. I was about to demand an answer when the air in the room thickened. A peculiar scent, like nitrogen after a lightning storm, assaulted my nasal cavity. The door began to smoke, as if it were on fire. The smoke gathered into a thick cloud, and a woman in a knit tunic top and floor-length, gathered skirt materialized before my eyes.
I snatched the blanket and pulled it over me, lifting the hem to my nose like a child hiding from a nightmare.
“What the heck just happened?” I blurted out as my instincts flared. A tiny voice in the back of my head told me to stop cowering and stand ready for battle.
I’ve clearly lost my mind.
The man spoke hushed, foreign words to the woman in a tone that sounded like a sigh. She dismissed him with a wave of her pale hand and approached me. Thin creases wrinkled the corners of her eyes and lips as she smiled.
“Forgive me if I’ve frightened you, darling, I didn’t think you’d wake just yet. How are you feeling, are you in any pain?”
