Blayke Read online

  The girl cried out in fear when the man bared large, white fangs at them and started to step in their direction.

  Loud screams tore from my throat and I sat straight up in bed, grasping the sheets beside me tightly in my hands. Over and over, I screamed as the vision of the man’s dark red eyes and long fangs filled my mind.

  My door burst open, and my mother ran into my room. Pulling me into her arms, she murmured, “Ssshhh, baby girl. I’m right here. You’re safe.”

  My body trembled as I let go of the sheets and wrapped my arms around her. “Mama,” I cried, “make it all go away. Please, make it go away.”

  “Hush, baby,” she whispered, gently rubbing her hand up and down my back. “You just had a bad dream. That’s all.” But I knew that wasn’t all it was. I was positive now. There was something else that I knew. The little girl in my dream was definitely me, and it wasn’t just a dream. It was a memory from my past. A past I thought I would never remember. For some reason, I had never been able to recall anything from before the time we moved to Iowa. I couldn’t tell my mom what was going on, though. I needed to talk to Chandler.

  I stiffened when thoughts of my sister made me remember what had happened the night before; somehow hearing other people’s thoughts, the searing pain in the back of my neck after the game, passing out in the car on the way home. I vaguely remembered waking up when we got to the house, and stumbling up the stairs to my room where I dragged on my pajamas before falling into bed.

  “Why don’t you come down and have some breakfast?” my mom suggested, kissing me softly on the head before letting me go and standing. “It will take your mind off that nightmare.”

  Nodding reluctantly, I watched as she smiled at me and then left the room. Once she was gone, I scrambled off my bed and ran across the floor to the large mirror on my dresser. Grabbing a small hand mirror off my dresser, I held my hair up with one hand and positioned the mirrors so I can see the back of my neck. What was that? It looked like a tattoo of some kind. Tilting the mirror in my hand slightly, I leaned back closer to the big mirror to get a better look. It was a tattoo. A mark that started just above the base of my neck, and went to about an inch and a half below it. I was in shock, and couldn’t get my eyes to focus on the design to see it clearly. All I could think about was that my parents were going to kill me.

  I heard someone coming up the stairs and quickly dropped my hair back down, effectively hiding the tattoo just before Chandler walked into my room. Slamming the door shut behind her, she pointed to my bed. “Sit your ass down, Blayke. We need to talk. I want to know what happened last night that had you so scared.”

  Looking at the door, I shook my head. “No, not here.”

  “Blayke, after what I went through thinking something had happened to you, I deserve to know what is going on.”

  “And you will, Chandler,” I promised, “but just not here. I don’t want to talk about it in front of Mom and Dad.” My eyes narrowed as I thought about my dream from the night before, and then my parents. Dad with his light brown hair and brown eyes, Mom with her blonde curls and dark green eyes that matched Chandler’s. I looked nothing like any of them. An image of Alyiah and Alex came to mind. Alyiah had dark hair like mine, and I had Alex’s eyes, but he had…fangs. I shuddered. That couldn’t be right. I must have gotten the memory wrong, if that was even what it was.

  “Blayke, talk to me.”

  Holding up my hand, I shook my head, the idea that my parents might not really be my parents, nearly crushing me. “Not now, Chandler,” I said harshly. “Please, just go.”

  I could tell that she wanted to say more, but instead Chandler opened the door and left, shutting it quietly behind her. I could tell I had hurt her, and I hated myself for it, but I just couldn’t voice all of the crazy thoughts that were running through my mind right now with my mother in the kitchen making me breakfast.

  Realizing I still had the mirror in my hand, I set it on the dresser and picked up my brush. I would have to leave my hair down for now, until I could figure out how to get whatever had appeared on my neck last night to disappear. I reached up and hesitantly touched the mark, prodding it gently, before sighing and dragging the brush through my hair. At least it didn’t hurt anymore. That burning, painful sensation had been horrible.

  After dressing in a pair of black yoga pants and a white tee-shirt with the logo of my favorite band, JINKS, on it, I made sure the strange tattoo was covered by my hair before heading downstairs for breakfast. I could hear my family talking in hushed voices, but the second I entered the room, the conversation stopped. Raising my eyebrows, I walked over to the fridge and took out the orange juice. “What’s going on?” I asked, wondering if they would tell me the truth or not.

  “Nothing,” my mom said a little too brightly, removing bacon from the griddle and placing it on a plate. “We were just discussing our plans for the day.”

  Getting two glasses down from the cupboard, I filled them with the juice before putting the carton back in the fridge. Picking up the glasses, I crossed the room and put one down on the table in front of my father, smiling absently when he thanked me. He and I always drank juice, while my mom and Chandler preferred milk. I had always just assumed it was something we had in common as father and daughter. Now I was beginning to question not only that, but many other things in my life.

  Sitting my glass down across from him, I went to get plates so that I could set the table. The conversation turned to school, but I tuned it out. No matter how hard I tried, I could not stop thinking about everything that had happened to me lately. Deciding to experiment a little with what I thought was some insane mind reading trick that I had somehow acquired, I concentrated on my dad. Listening to him and Chandler talk, I placed the plates on the table, putting his down in front of him last. No matter how hard I tried, there was nothing. Not that I really expected there to be. The idea of hearing someone else’s thoughts was just plain crazy. Remembering the images I saw when I touched Chloe, I lightly rested my hand on Dad’s shoulder and waited. Still nothing. I tried the same with Chandler next, but nothing I did worked.

  I was starting to think that what happened the night before was all in my head, until I decided to try one last time. This time with my mom. Sitting next to her, I waited until after everyone began eating, and then I handed her the syrup, our fingers brushing together. My heart jumped when there was a stirring of something, I wasn’t sure what. Lowering my head, I took a bite of my pancake and closed my eyes. Concentrating solely on my mom, I waited.

  Please, God, don’t let it be true. Please don’t take her from us. I know she doesn’t really belong here, she never has, but if she goes back, she could die.

  Gasping, I dropped my fork to my plate, my eyes springing open. Don’t let what be true? Go back where? Die?! I had so many questions, but I was terrified of the answers.

  “Blayke?”

  I looked up, my gaze connecting with my father’s concerned one, before I frantically pushed back my chair and rose. “I’m sorry, I don’t feel well,” I lied, rushing from the kitchen. I had to get out of there. They were keeping something from me, and I had a feeling I was going to find out what that was soon, but not yet. I wasn’t ready just yet.

  An hour later, I was still hiding in my room thinking about how screwed up my life had become, when there was a soft knock on the door. Choosing to ignore it, I buried my head in the pillow on the bed where I lay. There was another knock, and when I didn’t answer, the person on the other side opened the door anyway. I knew it was my mother the minute she walked into the room. Her thoughts bombarded me, and I squeezed my eyes shut to try and keep them out.

  She knows something is up. She has to. Chandler said something happened to her last night, but she won’t tell us what. Why won’t she tell us? Doesn’t she trust us? Doesn’t she trust me? Wait, what is that on her neck?

  “No!” my mother cried out, and I gulped as I turned to look at her.

  I expected to
see disappointment in her eyes, and maybe anger, but not the fear and definitely not tears. “Mom, it’s not a tattoo,” I said, sitting up and hugging my pillow tightly to my chest. “I promise.” When she didn’t reply, but just continued to stare at me, her face paling in horror, I tried again, “I’m going to get it removed as soon as I figure out a way. It just happened. I don’t even know how, but I can get rid of it.”

  “No, Blayke, you can’t,” my father said from behind her. I hadn’t realized he was there, and I felt shame fill me at his words.

  “I didn’t put it there, Dad.”

  Sighing deeply, he stepped into the room. “I know, baby girl.” Sliding his arm around my mom’s waist, he muttered, “It’s time to tell her, Amelia.”

  “No!”

  “We don’t have a choice,” he said firmly. “The choice was taken from us the minute she received the Jackson mark.”

  Shaking her head adamantly, Mom argued, “No, Daniel. It doesn’t have to be this way.”

  Cupping her cheek in his hand, Dad kissed her gently before replying, “Yes, it does.”

  My mom jerked away from him. “I won’t let this happen,” she vowed, her eyes snapping in anger. “They can’t have my baby!”

  I watched her turn and leave the room, knowing that no matter what she said, my life was about to change forever.

  Dad grimaced, raking a hand through his hair before saying, “Give me a few minutes, sweetheart, and then meet me down in the basement.”

  I sat in silence for a long time, staring down at the floor, wondering what I was about to find out. If my mother’s reaction was any indication, it wasn’t going to be good. What did she mean when she said someone couldn’t have me? Who?

  “Blayke?” Chandler’s voice was soft, so quiet I almost didn’t hear it.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m really sorry.”

  That got my attention. Raising my head, I asked, “What do you have to be sorry for?” When she just looked at me, I stiffened in understanding. My sister was a part of all of the secrecy. She knew what was going on, knew my parents were hiding something from me, and had chosen to keep it from me too. “I trusted you, Chandler.”

  “I know.”

  Her eyes were filled with remorse, but I was so angry, I didn’t want to hear what she had to say. Standing, I threw my pillow on my bed and stalked past her out of the room. I headed straight for the basement, Chandler on my heels. I expected to see my father at the bottom of the stairs, but he hadn’t arrived yet.

  “Dad will be here soon. He’s just…”

  “I know what he is doing,” I responded shortly. “He and Mom are fighting. Mom doesn’t want me to be a part of whatever life you are about to drag me into. Dad says that I don’t have a choice. Now that I have the mark, they will be coming for me.” I turned to my sister and placed my hands on my hips. “Who are they?” I demanded, stomping my foot in agitation. “I have a right to know who is after me and why.”

  “Yes, you do,” Chandler agreed, crossing her arms in front of her and staring me straight in the eyes, “but it isn’t my place to tell you.”

  Cocking my eyebrow, I asked, “It isn’t? Then what exactly is it that you are supposed to do?”

  “Protect you with my life,” she replied, “and I will.”

  I caught my breath at the honesty in not only her voice, but also her eyes. She was willing to die for me. Die, at the age of eighteen, for someone who probably wasn’t even really her sister. “This is freaking crazy,” I ground out, turning around and walking across the room, as far away from her as I could get.

  Our basement had never been a family room like some people had, with a couch and television. It was just one large area, with a concrete floor and walls. We used it primarily for storage. On one side stood shelves stacked with boxes full of Christmas decorations. Across from that were totes packed with memories of Chandler and me growing up. On another wall hung a large tapestry with the image of a woman in a beautiful, bright blue gown. She knelt on the ground, her head bowed as if in prayer, dark curls covering her face. On her hand was a sapphire ring that seemed to shine brightly, even though it was just an image on cloth. Standing over her was a massive dragon, his silver, green, and blue scales glistening brightly. There was a glint in his eyes that dared anyone to come near the woman while he protected her. I had always been enamored by the tapestry. When I was younger, I used to bring my toys down to the basement and play with them on the cold, hard cement just to be near it. One of my parents said they brought it with them when they moved to Iowa from wherever they were from. I frowned when I realized that I wasn’t sure where that was. How could I not know where they came from? Where we came from? They had to have told me at some point.

  I stiffened when the voices drifted into my mind suddenly, making me feel like I was spying on my parents’ conversation. I could hear them clearly, even though they were two floors up.

  You will only get her killed, Daniel.

  No, we will protect her. It is our duty and our privilege. One bestowed upon us by the Jackson family themselves.

  But, what if something happens to her? What if we can’t protect her? She’s my child!

  No, Amelia. She is Alyiah’s child. We have just had the honor of raising her the past ten years, and calling her our own. Ten years?

  She gave her up!

  She did it to keep her safe, and you know it! She loved her more than anything, and didn’t have a choice. Now stop this! It is time for Blayke to know who she is and where she comes from. You knew this day could come.

  I know, but I prayed it wouldn’t. The pain in my mother’s voice broke my heart. Her love for me was clear, as was her fear that I was about to be thrust into a life I couldn’t handle.

  “He’s on his way down now,” I told Chandler quietly.

  “How do you know?”

  Reaching out, I lightly traced the dragon’s scales, as I replied, “The same way I know I am Alyiah Jackson’s daughter. I can hear them.”

  Ignoring Chandler’s gasp of surprise, I bent over to look at something that caught my eye in the bottom right corner of the tapestry. A circle, outlined in silver, with a beautiful, bright blue dragon in the middle. He was made of blue fire, and I could just barely see a glint of a J up in the right-hand corner of the image. It was gorgeous.

  “We call it a Sapphire Dragon,” my father said, as he walked up beside me.

  Tracing the circle with my finger, I murmured, “It’s the Jackson mark, isn’t it? It is similar to what’s on my neck?”

  “Yes. It’s a mark that you should wear proudly, Blayke.”

  Straightening, I looked over at him. I had so many questions, so many things I wanted to know. Nothing felt real to me anymore. Everything I thought I knew, everything I had been told all of my life, was all lies.

  “The dragon is your guardian,” he went on. “He is the symbol of your lineage, specific to your family. All of the chosen hunters have them.”

  “Hunters?”

  My dad rested his hand on my arm, and squeezed it gently. “Hunters, also known as slayers. We have a lot to tell you, Blayke. There is so much that you need to know, and it has to be done soon. Now that you bear the Jackson mark, evil like you have never known before will be coming for you. We need to get you back to Angel’s Pass quickly. Back to your family, who can train you to be the huntress you are to become. There are things that I can teach you, but it is nothing like what you will learn from them.”

  My family. He said it as if he wasn’t the one who raised me. The one I called Dad since I was a child. It was all becoming too much. “What if I don’t want to go?” I whispered.

  Chandler walked over and slid an arm around my shoulder, squeezing gently. Her green eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she promised. “You won’t be alone, sis. Where you go, I go.”

  “We are all going,” my father said, tugging lightly on my hair. “No matter what, you will always be my little girl.”

  Th
at was what I needed to hear. Wrapping my arms tightly around his waist, I laid my head on his chest and let the tears fall silently down my cheeks. “I’m scared,” I admitted, so quietly I wasn’t sure if he heard me.

  “Me too,” he breathed, holding me close, “but we will all get through this together.”

  We stood like that for several minutes before Dad finally pulled back. Brushing a lock of hair out of my eyes, he said gruffly, “I have something for you.” Kissing me softly on the forehead, he gave me one last hug before stepping back.

  I felt Chandler take my hand, her fingers threading through mine as she whispered, “You will always be my sister, Blayke. No matter what.”

  Nodding, I brushed the tears from my eyes and squeezed her hand. “You too.”

  I watched Dad as he walked over and slid a heavy chest away from the corner of the room, and then pried one of the concrete blocks out of the wall. Pulling out a wooden box, he removed something from it. Setting it on the ground, he replaced the box, put the block back, and then slid the chest back into place.

  “What is it?” I asked, nervousness seeping into my voice.

  “It’s for you. From your birth mother.”

  “Alyiah,” I whispered, my hands trembling as I accepted the envelope from him. Opening it, I removed a folded, slightly discolored piece of paper. Sliding my finger over the sticker with the Jackson’s seal on it, I opened it and read:

  My dearest daughter,

  If you are reading this letter, that means you have recently had your sixteenth birthday. It also means you have inherited the gifts that are passed down from generation to generation in our family. Not everyone receives these gifts. Only the most powerful of our people are blessed with them. Still, I was praying it would pass you by. I wanted you to stay safe and oblivious to the demons of the night. There are things out there that you know nothing about. Evil, horrible things that have just become a part of your world. Unfortunately, you will not be able to turn away from this life, my child. The powers that be have decided that you are destined to become a part of it. You will need to keep your guard up at all times. Be very careful who you trust. Hopefully Daniel has started your training in some capacity, but I am sure you will still have a lot to learn.