Deceived Page 10



“Sit down and we’ll open it up.” Dorian scooted his way onto my bed. I climbed onto the bed and sat Indian style as far away as I could. My eyes nervously flicked to my door, afraid I’d be caught with a reaper in my bedroom. Guilt tugged at my conscience as I thought about what Aiden would think if he walked in on us. We weren’t doing anything wrong, but sitting on my bed with another man just didn’t seem right. The glint in Dorian’s eyes told me he wouldn’t object to something happening between us. Ignoring his lingering gaze, I pointed to the box. “Well, open it up already.”


His fingers slid under the tape and tore it away. My curiosity made me edge forward to peer into the container. When Dorian flipped the flaps back a tray of vials sat inside. Discarding the cardboard, he removed the tray and sat it on the bed. My stomach coiled when I realized the vials held blood. Holly mentioned last night that she had soldiers out collecting blood for me. I didn’t want to know how they got close enough to the vampires to draw the blood. White labels wound around the tiny glass tubes with a sequence of numbers wrote on the side. “What am I supposed to do with it?” A shiver danced through my body at the thought of having to taste the blood.


Dorian uncapped a vial and sniffed it. My lips curled in disgust. “The darkness is strong in this one.” He put the cap back in place and set it back into the tray.


I watched him dumbfounded. “Am I supposed to know what that means?”


“If you want to please, Holly.”


“Doesn’t everyone?” I snorted. “You don’t look like the type of person who would care about pleasing a council member.” I still hadn’t figured out why the Angel of Death would help Holy.


“I have my reasons.” Dorian’s vague response wasn’t what I had hoped for. His tone said he didn’t want to elaborate, so I ignored the many questions still lingering on my lips. “You said that vial was filled with darkness, what does that mean?”


“He’s killed a lot of people.”


“You can tell just by sniffing it?” I asked skeptically.


“Yes.”


Dorian held out his hands palm side up in front of him. “Hold my hands.”


My lips pursed as I looked at him. Reaching my hands out, I placed my palms into his. His skin felt cool and waxy against my own. Where our flesh met tingles erupted. Dorian’s eyes closed and his head tipped back. I watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down with each swallow.


When his head fell forward, his eyes opened. The cloudy abyss raced within the sockets and icy tendrils wrapped around my wrist and traveled up the length of my arms. My body shook against the coldness, sending the hair to stand on end.


Soft echoes of moans and screams penetrated my bedroom. My eyes searched nervously for the owners of the sad cries. “You hear them,” Dorian said.


My head nodded. “Who are they?” The moans grew deeper and louder the longer I held onto Dorian’s hands. A soft breeze grazed my face causing me to shrink back.


“The spirits of the deathly realm.” His hands grasped mine tighter, numbness tingled throughout my hands. Dorian’s eyes bore into mine. I was frozen in his dark gaze unable to look away. Our connected arms formed a circle and an opaque shadow grew within it. The shadow rose up through the bed, its form taking a human shape.


Dorian looked up at the spirit and unlocked from his gaze, I did the same. A young woman, probably no older than seventeen, wept in front of us. Her color was washed out in grayness, but I could tell her hair was black. The spirit’s hands covered her face as she sobbed softly, her shoulders rising and falling from her sadness.


“Who is she?” My eyes widened as I took in the unhappy girl.


“A victim of the vampire. Killed before her time and left in an eternal world of depression.” Dorian looked up at the girl and said, “You will have your revenge young one.”


The spirit removed her hands from her face and stared at Dorian, an angriness overcoming her sadness. “Revenge.” Her voice was eerie like a haunting breeze that chilled to the bone. Dorian nodded his head and a sinister smile crept onto the girls lips. He reached a hand up to the girl, and she touched it with her own. Light swooshed through her body then faded as quickly as it had come. The spirit’s body leaned over and when she stood straight again, all of the shadows had disappeared. She looked as solid as a living person.


“What happened?” My voice was unsteady as I looked at the girl. Dorian ignored me and instead motioned for the girl to come closer. He spoke into her ear, and when he was done speaking, the girl floated off the bed and vanished through a wall. I choked on my words, unable vocalize my thoughts.


“She’s been directed to torment her murderer just like Holly wanted. It’s your turn now.” Dorian lifted another vial of blood out of the tray and held it out to me.


I bit my lip and eyed the blood with disdain. “I don’t know what to do.” The truth was, I didn’t want to raise an angry spirit. I knew my orders and knew what would happen if I disobeyed them, but I couldn’t find my comfort zone when dealing with ghosts. Part of me was meant to do this. Still, the other part of me, the witch, was at war with the spirit walker. I wondered if I could ever find a balance between the two. To me it seemed I could be one or the other. I would either choose to be a spirit walker and embrace the darkness, or abandon the unique gift and live my life as a normal witch and store owner.


“That’s why you have me to teach you.” Dorian placed the blood into my palm and curled my fingers around the cylinder. I opened my fingers and stared at the red liquid, wondering who it belonged to. It didn’t matter, they had all killed innocents and it was my job to raise their victims for vengeance and torment.


“What do I do?”


“Uncap it and smell the blood,” Dorian instructed. I frowned but did what he said. Pulling the stopper out of the vial, I held it to my nose. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to detect, it smelt like normal blood to me. “Now what?”


“Do you smell the death within it?”


“No, it smells like ordinary blood to me.”


Dorian grinned. “You haven’t been taught anything about who you are, have you?” His words embarrassed me. His statement had made me feel like a juvenile amateur.


“Who was supposed to teach me? It’s not like there’s a helpline for this sort of thing.” I always knew it wasn’t normal that I could read the memories of the dead, but denial was an easier road to take rather than dealing with my rarity.


“Actually, there is. If you would have acknowledged your gift and sought out the right people to teach you about it, you’d know that.” Dorian sounded aggravated which only caused my humiliation to grow. I didn’t like being scolded like a child.


“Maybe I didn’t want to. Maybe, just maybe, I don’t want to be a spirit walker. Is that so hard of a concept for people to understand?” I snapped back. I had no problem helping solve cases for the FPD (Flora Police Department.), but did I want to make it my whole life?


“Gwen, it’s who you are. Whether you want to be a spirit walker or not doesn’t matter, you are one. It’s not something you can change. If you trust me, I can teach you it’s not something to fear.” Dorian’s voice had lost its edge.


I looked at him through my lashes and felt connected with him in that moment. He was the only person I’d ever met who could understand what I was. While Kye had tried to teach me the lessons he’d learned from studying his sister, Dorian knew firsthand. He was the Angel of Death, his lessons came straight from the horse’s mouth, so-to-speak.


“All right.” Dorian was right, I couldn’t change who I was. There was no point in complaining about it when I could just grit my teeth and learn to use the power.


“Okay,” he breathed. “I think we should take a break and then return to sending ghost to haunt the vampires later. What do you say?”


It sounded so ridiculous all I could do was laugh. “Let’s go.”


*****


I climbed off of Dorian’s motorcycle with shaky limbs. He drove so fast that my hands hurt from gripping him. “You do realize it’s November right? It’s too cold to be riding a motorcycle.” I rubbed my hands together, hoping the friction would cause warmth to return to my numb fingers. Everyone we’d passed had given us strange looks, but Dorian had been adamant about taking his bike.


“I apologize. I don’t feel the elements like you do.” He pulled the bike helmet off his head and hung it on the handlebars. I pursed my lips in thought. Although Dorian was the only person who could relate to me, he was the furthest from being human. He could change his appearance and the weather didn’t affect him. It was all very strange to take in and easy to forget just how different he was. “A penny for your thoughts?”


Heat warmed my cheeks when he caught me staring at him. His tongue darted out and licked his upper lip, and the heat surged to the rest of my body. I adverted my gaze. Aiden is your boyfriend. You shouldn’t be devouring Dorian with your eyes. I chided myself.


“Come on, I have something to show you.” I turned to see Dorian making his way down the icy sidewalk. Tucking my embarrassment away, I followed.


We ended up walking into what looked like the world’s scariest bar. Dim lighting lent a dangerous feel and casted dark pockets of shadows where people could lurk. Thick clouds of smoke permeated the air and danced in the beams of light like eerie spirits. The entire bar was constructed of wood, and the floors were covered with worn hardwood. Neon lights shone harshly from the various bar signs that hung over the pool tables and the haunting voice of Jim Morrison floated out of the jukebox alongside the wall. An array of torn pleather barstools lined a wooden bar and housed a collection of disconcerting patrons. Most wore leather of some sort and had disturbing tattoos covering their flesh. A few of the men wore bandanas around their heads and dark sunglasses to conceal their eyes.


When we stepped into the bar, all eyes traveled in our direction. I stepped closer to Dorian’s side as sickening smiles grew on the men’s faces, their eyes undressing every inch of me. The women devoured Dorian, their lust almost visible as they watched him.

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