Blood's Nexus Read online

  The memories of her father’s simple two-bedroom bungalow were the only thing that gave her hope that this was not what life was supposed to be like.

  Her inner walls crumbled when thoughts turned to her father and how she wished he was still with them.

  Tears streamed down her face. She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand, and happened to look down to see there was a large tear in the side of the dress.

  She would have to apologize to Samantha, and offer to buy her a new one.

  It was an odd thought to have in the middle of a break down, but it proved enough to ground the teen, and let her put things back in perspective.

  In time, she made it off the floor and into the bathroom. It was a quick shower, and a change of clothes, before climbing into bed.

  Although exhausted, sleep took a long time to find her.

  Chapter 2

  Taylor curled up in the window seat with a book tucked between her knees. Her eyes roamed over the page without seeing the words while her fingers grazed the rough edges.

  It had been a long month with exams and graduation, but it was now over. With grades locked in well over the average, and an outstanding athletic career, she had several prestigious universities to choose from.

  A free ride was what she needed to avoid asking for anything from her mother, which in the end would still come from her stepfather.

  Speaking of the devil-in-cargo-shorts, Taylor looked up to see Tex strolling across the yard followed by a group of his lackeys. They were motioning towards one of the building as a large truck backed up over the grass.

  Wood crates and wrapped statues were unloaded before being brought inside. From the second-story window, the teenager couldn’t make out much of the detail of the items, but she saw the word BELIZE stamped across two crates.

  How the man came to own the artifacts, she could only guess but she would bet it wasn’t a result of the hard work of a genuine archaeologist. Few governments would just let so many large, well preserved pieces leave the country with a foreigner.

  A commotion by the loading ramp caught her attention. Two of the greasy looking men had almost let an eight-foot, stone archway come crashing down on top of them. They scurried out of the way, but the carving still smashed into the pavement with a deafening thud.

  Tex went into a fit of rage which included cursing and threatening the two men’s lives while checking his payload. They used a forklift and some straps to right the arch but Taylor could see the vein popping on the side of the man’s neck even from that distance.

  The hour became plain when Taylor’s stomach growled. Her book was tossed on the bed before making her way down the spiral staircase and through the servant hall to the kitchens.

  State-of-the-art chrome appliances and sleek countertops lined the massive white room. It was a workplace any chef would have killed for, except this one was empty. Tex was a well-off man, could afford all the nicest things anyone could ever want, but he did not trust people. It was that quality that kept his kitchen without a cook, the mansion without a maid, and his compound without cameras.

  The camera thing was, by far, the most paranoia-inducing. He had told his wife that people could hack the feeds and use them to figure out his shipments, so he refused to put in anything that was wireless or monitored by an outside source.

  The teen had just finished cooking an egg-white omelette when the swinging kitchen door burst open and her step-father strolled into the room. He didn’t notice her at first but when he did, she felt his mood shift. Anger morphed into a sinister smile that made her skin prickle.

  “Just the little savage I was looking for.” Using the derogatory term seemed to highlight his intent. “As you know, I am taking your mother on a much-needed vacation in two days. During our absence I am expecting you to take good care of this place. Nobody is to be on the property. The gate remains locked, and every night you need to check the storage house doors. Now, is this something I can trust you to do, or are you going to need incentive?”

  His fingers bit into the flesh of her upper arm causing it to bruise immediately.

  Taylor’s body went rigid as her eyes locked on the offending hand. When she looked up, a scowl marred her features.

  “I can manage, but you should really think about hiring a security guard: a nice, dumb, moniyaw like yourself. Then, you would have someone to share your Vegas stripper stories with.”

  The slap that connected with her left cheek stung, but did no lasting damage.

  “I told you before not to use that gibberish in my house. You better watch yourself, or you won’t be making it to college come fall.”

  Through a great deal of will power, Taylor kept her mouth shut. Satisfied, he got his point across he turned on a heel and left the kitchen. The teen took a deep breath to steady herself before picking up the plate and heading back up stairs to her room. That was her sanctuary for the rest of the day.

  At one point her mother came in to brag about the cruise they were going on, and to show off all the expensive things Tex had bought her, but her daughter’s lack of enthusiasm pushed her away.

  Overall, it was a good thing Taylor had her cell phone, or she would have gone crazy. Fingers flew over the keyboard as she got to live through her friends who were on their trip to Europe. They sent pictures and described everything with short two-sentence paragraphs making her almost beg for more. Not wanting to pester them too bad, she did stop asking; they were supposed to be having a fun time.

  When the sun went down, she welcomed her soft bed.

  Being a heavy sleeper, every night before slipping off into dreamland, she always made sure to lock her door from the inside. Her step father had come into her room once; it was a mission to make sure it never happened again.

  It was because of her diligence in this that, when a light breeze rustled her sheets, she bolted upright, muscles coiled to defend herself.

  No one was there. Bit by bit she let out a held breath and looked to the open door with confusion. A sweet smell filled her room, though not with anything that was familiar.

  Conflicted, she eased herself to the floor. Bare feet making little sound as she crept forward. The breeze was still brushing past her skin; she could feel it plain as day, so she followed it, hoping to find the source.

  The trail ended at the front doors, which were both closed and locked. She had gone the right direction, of that she was sure, but there was no where for the wind to have come from.

  With her sanity now in question, she went back up to her room. The door closed with a snap before she triple-checked that the deadbolt was in place. Then, it was back under her warm covers.

  The whole thing was very perplexing, but Taylor wasn’t one to get scared without reason. With an internal shrug, she rolled over and went back to sleep.

  That night, dark dreams plagued her. When morning came, she couldn’t remember many of the details. There had been a dense fog, the same smell that had been lingering in the house, and eyes: intense, yellow eyes that made her blood run cold.

  This continued for the next two days. The breeze would find her in such random places, and at times she started to believe she was going crazy. After an embarrassing run in with her mother while she was trying to catch the elusive air, she decided it was best to just pretend it did not exist.

  The dreams became a different Daemon all together. She could remember bits and pieces of each one, but every time the teen woke up in a cold sweat, her mind would blank as to why she was freaking out.

  Taylor pulled herself out of bed after a bad bout of dreams. Every muscle in her body ached.

  The discomfort was short lived, though, because her excitement took over. This was the day her mother and stepfather were leaving for their vacation. Taylor was so happy to have time to herself she practically carried her mother out the front door.

  The sun wasn’t up yet, and thick dew covered the green lawn. Parked in the driveway was the black town-car with luggage half piled
in.

  “Now you remember the rules. No one is allowed over, no one! And check all the locks on the doors and windows before bed. The last thing your stepfather needs is to stress over this place while on vacation.” Her mother stood with hands on hips lecturing her.

  “Yes Mother,” Taylor said with a monotone voice, “You have told me several times already.”

  “Well I wanted to make sure you remember,” her mother blurted, going sulky. “You need to redeem yourself after that drunk tank fiasco.”

  “Have a good trip Mother.” Taylor kept her tongue pressed to the roof of her mouth to keep from adding anything else to that statement.

  Her mother’s mood turned super bubbly and happy as soon as Tex appeared at the door.

  “Ready to go, love?” He asked. His voice was so sweet Taylor almost got diabetes from just listening to it.

  “Oh yes, all ready.”

  “Good. How about you hop in the car and I will be there in a moment?”

  Her mother gave a little wave before doing as she was told and hopped into the back seat, like a puppy dog going for a car ride.

  Tex waited till she was in before facing Taylor.

  “You will not fuck this up. Check and double check those storage units every night. What’s in there is worth more than your life.”

  Taylor leveled an annoyed glare at him before answering.

  “No one will touch your precious artifacts, and I will check the doors.” There was a temptation to add a ‘Go fuck yourself.’ but she refrained. He must have seen the look though because he scowled, anyway.

  Annoyed with the conversation, he stocked away to join his wife in the vehicle.

  Soon the car started up, and the tires crackled on the gravel as it headed down the driveway.

  Taylor waited for it to be out of sight before pulling out her cell phone and texting Dwight and Pip to come get her. She was forbidden to have people over, but nothing was stopping her from going out with her friends and enjoying her summer.

  A reply came back stating they would be there once they woke up.

  Soon, the sun started warming the damp lawn, and wisps of fog still hung in the air. It was the perfect time to go for a run. With university rugby starting in the fall she needed to keep up her fitness, so a solid 10k was in the books for that morning.

  With music blaring in her headphones, she started off down the driveway, then turned onto the road towards town. She was a couple kilometers in before another house appeared.

  The would-be neighbors were an elderly couple, Mr. and Mrs. Tribble. Nice enough when face-to-face, but racist, and elitist when they thought no one was listening.

  The pair were outside doing yard maintenance when Taylor ran by. She gave them a small wave and smile. They waved back, but their beady little eyes followed her till she disappeared around the bend.

  Around the six kilometer mark, the teen turned off onto an old dirt road that would snake back to the mansion. The crunch of the pebbles under her feet, the smell of warm clay and green leaves, and the feel of the breeze were invigorating! Unlike the phenomenon haunting her at the house, these sensations were real.

  A loud siren made her jump and almost trip over her own feet as she whipped around to see what was going on.

  Constable Hendricks pulled up behind her in his squad car and stepped out, taking a moment to adjust his utility belt.

  Taylor removed the ear buds, and gave the cop a smile.

  “You scared the crap out of me, Constable. What brings you all the way out here this fine morning?”

  “Looking for you, Taylor. How are things going?”

  “Not too bad. Enjoying time to myself.”

  “Yes, I heard your mother and Tex were out of town for a while,” he sat on the hood of his cruiser, “Look I wanted to catch you earlier, but Tex makes it difficult to get a hold of you. Tried the phone a couple times and even showed up once.”

  “You know Tex. He likes no one on his property, he thinks they’re all just nosing around. Why were you looking for me?”

  “Someone voiced a concern that they hadn’t seen you a lot after the drunk tank incident, and that there might have been bruises.”

  Taylor paused.

  “I had just won a rugby championship, of course there was bruises. Plus, I was busy with finishing senior year. Nothing out of the ordinary about that.”

  Constable Hendricks stared at her.

  “Taylor, we both know what I am getting at. I am asking if he put his hands on you that night.”

  Taylor was never good at lying, but she saw no point in telling Hendricks. It wasn’t as if the law could do anything with someone as well connected and rich as her step-father.

  “Its fine. Nothing happened.” Her eyes flicked to the upper right.

  It was obvious he didn’t believe her; her poker face was nonexistent with such bold-faced lies.

  “Did he hurt you?” he asked again, “What exactly, did he do?”

  Taylor sighed and rubbed her eyes for a moment.

  “Look,” she started, “Things might have gotten a little escalated, but I handled it, OK?”

  “Handled what, and how?” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned forward on the car.

  Taylor was getting annoyed now.

  “It doesn’t matter. He is a minor bump in my road, nothing more. I’ve graduated, and am off to university in September; I already have a scholarship lined up for my first-choice university. If he wants to be a prick, then so be it; there is nothing you, or anyone else can do about that.”

  Constable Hendricks sighed and shook his head. He didn’t want to push the issue with her, but he knew Tex was a man that took what he wanted, and as a cop and father himself, he didn’t want to see Taylor end up as a casualty.

  “You don’t have to put up with that, Taylor,” Constable Hendricks said, “But I know you are a tough girl so I will trust you when you say you can handle it. But, if you ever want help, or need to talk, please take my card.”

  He pulled a business card out of the front pocket of his bulletproof vest and handed it to her. The little white square had raised black writing beside a silhouetted horse and Mountie. Simple enough in appearance but a kind gesture nonetheless.

  “Thank you. If it gets to the point I can’t handle it, I promise I will call.”

  “Good.” He gave her a smiled and motioned towards the road. “You have a good run. What’s the goal today?”

  She cracked a grin.

  “I was aiming for ten kilometers,” she said, “But it’ll be closer to fifteen by the time I get back this way.”

  He gave a laugh, and touched his slightly bulging belly.

  “I remember when I could run. Can’t say I miss it. You have a good day.”

  The constable turned and got back in the cruiser.

  Taylor put her ear buds in and started off again, this time putting speed behind the strides.

  The day sped by with her finding entertainment in town with Dwight and Pip after her run. When they dropped her off that evening, she made a quick round checking the outlying buildings, then headed inside to do the same with those doors. All were locked and undisturbed.

  The following day went by similarly before she came home to walk through the security routine again.

  Twilight was setting in, sending long shadows across the house and yard.

  Inside, sprawled across one of the sofas in the downstairs study, Taylor was reading a book. Relaxing to the only sounds that she heard, which were the hum of a fan and the ticking of a Grandfather clock down the hall.

  It was getting late, and Taylor found her eyes were growing heavy. Every blink lasted a little longer before she dropped off to sleep with the novel open across her chest.

  Mists from her dream world had just started to creep into her vision when a loud crash blasted her back into consciousness.

  In a jerk reaction, she was to her feet and facing the study door with muscles tight.

  She stoo
d there for a good thirty seconds before relaxing enough to decide what it was she had heard. It had come from inside the house, that she was sure, maybe from the front entry hall.

  Being as paranoid as her step father was, every room had something in it that could be used as a weapon, unless it was his personal study; there would be obvious weapons such as guns and knives galore.

  In this room, she knew he kept a baseball bat under the writing desk.

  Quietly as she could, she took it out and perched it on her right shoulder, ready-to-use if need be. The rugby captain crept from the lit room and headed into the darkness towards the front door while continuing to listen for any indication it was more than just the wind.

  At first, she found nothing, but when a breeze touched her cheek, it confirmed her unease. She had almost convinced herself it had been all in her head.

  As she came into the front entryway, she saw one vase had smashed on the floor in front of a wide-open window. Through the window, the suspicious gust was still whistling, and the smell of exotic flowers was strong.

  Taylor struggled with the thought that maybe she should give the local police a call. It was possible that somebody could have broken in, since she had just checked that window not two hours before.

  Despite the logical choice, she had the urge to follow the smell. She couldn’t explain it, but she had learned that, more often than not, gut feelings should be trusted.

  Cursing herself before she even opened the front door, the bat stayed at the ready. Security lights lit up the yard and made the whole lawn shine with dew. A little sigh of relief came when she realized that the grass was undisturbed; if someone broke open the window, there would have been signs everywhere.

  Her feet were moving before she even realized as she was heading for the storage shed closest to her. Nothing there had moved either, but as she reached for the handle, a bad feeling stirred in her stomach.

  The metal was cool to the touch as she pushed down.

  Click.

  Locked.

  She gave her head a shake. It was locked, it had been locked last night, it had been locked when she got home, therefore, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that it was still locked.