Heku
Book 1 of the Heku Series
Published by T.M. Nielsen at Smashwords
Find us at
http://www.hekuseries.com/
Copyright © 2010 by T.M. Nielsen
This book is available in print at http://www.amazon.com
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Chapter 1 - Meeting
“Ms. Russo?” he asked, looking down at the woman in the house. He had spoken to her by phone, but hadn’t met her yet.
Emily looked up, trying not to gasp as she saw that the men stood almost two feet taller than her and had broad shoulders that threatened to bulge out of the dark green, western-style shirt, “Jerry, was it?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Please, call me Emily… and you’re a little early, so why don’t you wait in the barn, and I’ll be out in a bit,” she told him, and shut the door when he and his friend headed out toward the rustic barn.
Emily quickly ran a brush through her hair and pulled on her riding gloves before heading out. She glanced once around the house for Sam, the overseer, but he was still out plowing. Her attackers were all tall and muscular, and she couldn’t help but wonder if these two were also going to attack her. She took a deep breath and headed out to the barn. They needed this sale if they were going to buy feed.
“Sorry about that,” she said, and skirted around the two men as she went to the stalls. “Can you ride a horse?”
Both of them glanced at her nervously. Her scent blew by them with the breeze, and they fought to control their natural instincts as the mere smell made their throats burn with thirst.
“Yes, Ma’am, I can,” Jerry said, watching her closely. The man standing next to him was scanning the barn with an odd look on his face, and his hands slowly curled into tight fists.
“Great, then you and I will head out,” Emily said, and started putting a saddle on a beautiful Arabian mare.
Jerry looked at her carefully. His keen senses focused on her while his guard studied the barn, trying to determine why the lingering scent of his own kind would be there. Her long red hair and fierce green eyes gave away her Irish heritage. She was a small woman, petite, but exquisitely beautiful. His eyes picked up the fading trace of a bruise on her cheek, something that would already be invisible to the human eye.
Emily led the horse out to him, “Will your friend be ok here in the barn for a while?”
Jerry smiled, “Yes, he’ll be fine.”
Emily swiftly hoisted herself, bareback, onto a painted mare. He noticed how natural and graceful she was on the horse, something that only came when you’ve been raised on one. He mounted the Arabian and turned the horse towards her.
“Let’s go then,” Emily said, and frowned slightly at his friend, who was glancing around the barn as if looking for something.
Jerry kicked his horse softly and followed Emily out of the barn and toward the pasture. A Border collie and a Blue Healer fell in behind her and began to nip playfully at each other. After only a few minutes, he saw the large herd of Angus cattle they were heading towards. Emily was a few yards ahead of him, so he studied her again. In the heat, she pulled her hair back off of her neck briefly, and he caught a glimpse that made him frown, and his heart pounded in his chest.
Her voice brought him out of his intense concentration, “You’re not from here. I'm guessing Texas?”
Jerry nodded, “Yes, we’re from Texas.”
“What brings you up to Montana for cows then?”
“I come for the best,” he said, and grinned when she blushed slightly. “Might I ask you a personal question?”
Emily glanced back at him as they neared the cattle, “Depends on what the question is.”
“Are you a donor?” he asked, unsure if he should even ask. Her appealing scent lingered on his tongue even out where the breeze took her smell away from him. It was stronger and more desirable than anything he had caught in his thousands of years of existence.
Emily frowned slightly, “Like an organ donor?”
“Never mind,” he said. Her question answered his. His body tensed as she nervously put her hand against her neck, and he noticed her breath catch, “These are exactly as specified. We’ll take fifty of them.”
“We can gather them. You said you only wanted one bull?” Emily asked, glancing back at him. He noticed her eyes were no longer warm and inviting, but had become guarded and unsure.
“Yes, you said he has papers?”
She nodded and turned back for the barn, “Yes, we’ll have them ready tomorrow if you can get them.”
“Will Saturday be ok?” he asked. He needed to buy some time to address some of his concerns about this young woman.
“Saturday’s fine. My husband’s gone for a few days, but will be back by then.”
They went the rest of the way in silence. He watched her closely as they rode back toward the ranch house. As they drew closer, Jerry saw his guard standing outside of the barn beside a smaller, Hispanic man who had an angry look on his face.
“Sam, what’s wrong?” Emily asked when they approached him.
“You ok, Ms. Em?” he asked her, glaring at Jerry.
“I’m fine… Jerry is going to buy 50 head of cattle,” she told him, and slid off of the mare.
Sam nodded, “I’ll hep dem, you git inside outa da heat.”
Emily nodded and glanced nervously at Jerry before handing the reins over to Sam. She turned and ran into the house, and he heard the door lock. Jerry got down from the horse and tied it to a post outside of the barn before turning to the older man.
“We’ll be back on Saturday to get the cattle,” Jerry said, eyeing Sam suspiciously. His guard stood perfectly still, giving no indication there was a problem.
“Your kind isn’t welcome here,” Sam said scathingly. “You come get the cattle and then leave. Don’t let me catch you back.”
“My kind?” Jerry asked, and took a step towards Sam.
Sam stood his ground, “Yes, your kind. Go away, and on Saturday, deal with Keith only. Stay away from Emily.”
Not sure what to make of this entire visit, Jerry nodded and climbed into the pickup’s driver seat while his guard glanced again at the barn and then crawled into the passenger seat. They were soon driving away from the small Montana ranch as Sam watched them with his arms crossed.
“I suspect we need to talk to the Council,” Jerry said, pulling a cell phone from his pocket.
“We do,” the guard agreed, watching the ranch disappear in the mirror.
***
Jerry and his guard were ushered into the room by an equally tall and muscular man who wore a stark white shirt, black pants, and a flowing green cape. The room was large and had dirt floors, at the far end stood a platform where thirteen others looked down at them. They walked up and bowed to the three in the center.
“What brings you to the Council?” the woman asked, pulling the hood of her green robe down away from her face.
Jerry stepped forward, “We have some concerns about a mortal woman we met yesterday, and feel she may need your help.”
“What kind of concerns would make you think that the Council needs to intervene on behalf of a mortal?”
“Our first impression is that she may be a descendant of the Winchesters.”
The woman frowned, “What makes you say that?”
“Her scent, it’s sweeter and more enticing than anything I’ve ever come across.”
“Is that all?” another man asked. He was seated beside the woman and lowered his hood when he spoke.
“At first, my guard and I found the scent of many heku in her barn. She and I headed out on horseback, and I noticed scars along her neck, brutal, vicious scars, and a lot of them,” Jerry said, frowning. “I asked if she was a donor, and she became guarded and her hand covered her neck. She didn’t know what I meant by donor.”
“As if she was attacked by a heku?” one of the men asked. He was the largest member of the Council, and he lowered his hood, revealing pitch black hair and dark ominous eyes.
“As if attacked by many.”
“Did you discover the source of the heku scent in the barn?”
The guard stepped forward, “Yes, Chief Enforcer. While they were away, I found a place in the loft that a heku has been sleeping, from the smell of it, for quite some time. I also found a coal shed full of ashes that all smell of the heku.”
“Ashes?” the woman asked, shocked.
The guard nodded, “Yes, ashes.”
“I don’t believe this woman to be a Winchester,” the largest man said. “However, if she is plagued with attacks, then I may need to get involved.”
“That’s all we ask, Chief Enforcer. We know the overseer of the property, Sam, is aware of the heku. He warned us that our kind was not welcome, and when we return, we are only to deal with the woman’s husband,” Jerry explained.
“When are you set to return?”
“This Saturday.”
“Very well, I will see what I can find,” he said, and leaned back in his chair.
Jerry and his guard bowed and walked out of the council chambers.
***
The Chief Enforcer arrived in the small town of Cascade, Montana late that night and quickly found the ranch outside of town. He parked on the road and ran up to the house, scanning the area for any signs of a threat. He was sure this would turn out to be nothing, but it was his job to stop his kind, the heku, from feeding off of unwilling mortals.
He found the front door unlocked and stepped inside. His senses were suddenly assaulted with a scent that broke through thousands of years of carefully controlled thirst, and he crouched slightly, a hiss escaping his ancient lips. It was only seconds before he regained full control and chastised himself for the brief lack of restraint. It was his job to protect mortals from uncontrolled heku, yet he, himself, just came close to breaking the most fundamental rule of his kind, to only feed from willing donors.
He inhaled deeply, acclimating himself to the delectable scent that filled the entire house. He could smell the water and feel the mugginess and knew she was in the bath tub. Her scent would be stronger as the water heated her body, and he couldn’t risk even a momentary lapse.
Again inhaling deeply, his mind swirled at the aroma, and he stood in the doorway of the bathroom. He glanced inside and saw Emily, lying in the tub, entirely engrossed in a book. She didn’t see him, didn’t notice the strange man standing there. He marveled at her beauty. Her long red hair was tucked into a clip on her head, and her delicate shoulders were barely visible above the bubbles from the bath. She had an extremely beautiful face, and he moved back into the room as his breath caught in his chest. He suddenly felt something he’d never felt before, he felt the need to protect her.
Scanning the bedroom, he looked at the scattered items, a laptop opened to an Internet sale of a magnificent Arabian stallion, an iPod, a book, and a small bag. He glanced through her things and noticed no ring, no jewelry, and no makeup.
He smiled broadly as he saw a 9mm tucked away in her bag. He saw no cause for alarm, no reason for the strong protective feeling to be valid. The feeling was unnatural. The heku normally felt nothing for a mortal. Mortals were nourishment, nothing more. Mortals possessed a natural aversion to them as a means of self-preservation and their species rarely mixed. He calmed his mind and stepped back around to the door.
“Hello,” he said softly.
Emily jumped at his voice, unceremoniously dropping her book into the frothy water. She grabbed a towel and scrambled to her feet, managing not to show too much skin on her way up, then looked at him, her eyes wide. Her mind was telling her to scream, but her mouth was too dry and no noise came out.
He raised an eyebrow when he sensed her fear and realized it was oddly satisfying.
“It’s ok, Child. I’m not here to hurt you,” he said softly, and put his hands toward her, palms out.
“Get out!” she managed to whisper.
He locked her eyes with his and concentrated. It was easy for him to control mortals with a glance, something that often came in useful. He was shocked when her green eyes broke his gaze, and she moved into the corner of the bathroom to get further away from him.
“Curious,” he said, watching her.
“Not again, please,” she begged as her hand clutched tightly to the towel.
“Again?” he asked. Frowning slightly, he turned and walked into her room.
She saw him leave and quickly slammed the door shut, locking it behind him. The simple human gesture made him smile. No lock could keep him out if he wanted to enter. Her words enraged him, and he felt his temper rising. He fought to regain control and was soon standing calmly, waiting for her.
She emerged a short time later in a long yellow bathrobe. She peered around the door first, and then walked into the empty bedroom. The room was small and decorated with ugly bold flowers in greens and grays. She checked the closet, under the bed, and under the desk, but no one was there.
Emily quickly picked up her phone and shifted nervously as she dialed and waited for an answer.
“Keith! There’s one here!” she said, nervously looking around the room.
He listened to her from in the bathroom, glad that he was able to move faster than her slow mortal mind could comprehend.
“No, here in the house, just now.”
She frowned, “No, not this time. I think he may be gone.”
“Yes, I know.” She nodded.
“Ok, I will.”
“No I’m still alone Keith. You need to trust me. I don’t…” Her eyes fell to the floor.
“Sure, ok.” She hung up the phone, and tears filled her eyes.
She looked again around the room and dressed quickly. He watched her change, his eyes following the length of her tone body. He grinned at her frailty though. Heku women were strong and built more solidly than mortal women.
“I’m sorry I startled you,” he said, lowering his voice, hoping to lessen the impact as he appeared by her door.
She screamed and grabbed the 9mm out of her bag, then pointed it at him with shaking hands.
He took a step toward her, “Don’t be alarmed… and you can’t hurt me with a gun.”
Her hands shook worse as she leveled the gun at his head.
He locked her gaze again, “Emily, lower the gun.”
She hesitated, her knuckles turning pink again as she released her grip ever so slightly. Her inner voice yelled at her to shoot and not to let go of the only weapon she had. She blinked suddenly, her grip re-tightening. He growled in frustration, no one had ever so easily been able to break away from his eyes.
“Emily, lower it before you get hurt,” he demanded angrily, and took a step towards her.
She hesitated and then dropped her hand, but kept the gun close just in case.
“There, now we can be civilized… come… sit by me,” he said, and sat on the bed, patting the spot beside him.
Emily stayed where she was, frozen.
He smiled at her, careful not to show his teeth, “Ok then, I’ll begin. My name is Chevalier, and of course, I already know your name.”
She watched him carefully.
“You said something earlier on the phone… ‘Keith, there’s one here.’ Does that mean you’ve met my kind before?” He watched as her body tensed.
She nodded slightly.
“Does that mean you are a donor?” He saw a brief look of confusion in her eyes before she moved toward the door a step.
“Leaving?” he asked her, slightly amused.
She froze.
“I’ll take that as a no on the donor then. Perhaps you’ll tell me when you’ve seen my kind before, that it has become somewhat commonplace.”
Chevalier waited for an answer, but it didn’t come.
“Emily, breathe,” he reminded her.
She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until he said something.
“You aren’t making it very easy to talk, please sit down.” His voice was stern, and he locked her gaze again.
She felt her willpower fading as she looked into his black eyes. His face was striking, yet kind, and she wanted to trust him. She felt that she could. Her mind flashed images of others of his kind though, and her encounters with them had all been terrifying and brutally violent. Against what her mind was saying, she suddenly found herself seated beside him.
Chevalier smiled, “There, much better, Child.”
“Are you here to drink my blood?” she asked timidly, and scooted a few inches further away from him.
“Not unless you want me to.” He watched her reaction and she frowned slightly, “I take it you’ve never been asked before?”
Emily shook her head. This news displeased him immensely. It was against the rules of the heku to take without permission, and this woman was terrified by who knows how many attacks on her. He understood the attacks, her blood smelled sweeter than any other, but he still couldn’t imagine taking without her consent.
“You are interesting to me, Emily.” He watched as she tensed, and before she could see him move, he had the gun out of her hand and placed it on the bedside table.
“Me?” She was surprised that anyone could find her interesting.
“Yes you, I’m intrigued by you.” He narrowed his eyes as he watched her. Again he was struck by the need to protect her. He wanted to reach out and take her into his arms and disappear with her, somewhere no one could find. The image flashed like a movie before his eyes, and when it cleared, she was watching him.
“I should go,” she said, standing up.
“Oh? Where will you go?” he whispered as his insides turned at how frail she was, how delicate her build. She couldn’t protect herself, and he felt as if it were his job to do so.
Emily slipped her boots on and headed for the door.
“You’re going to leave, Child?” he asked, trying to distract her.
She turned and looked over at him, “I’m not a child.”
“I am sorry. No offense intended.”
Emily sighed, “Listen, I appreciate what you are trying to do, but I’m leaving. I’ve dealt with enough of your kind to know I’d rather spend the night at a hotel than here with you.”
“Ouch.” His voice was joking, but her words caused his heart to ache, “When have you met more of my kind?”
“When haven’t I? I’ve been tormented by you my entire life.” She pulled on a leather jacket, and he watched as she pulled her long red hair out and buckled the front.
“I do wish you would stay. I promise to behave.” Though his voice didn’t show it, he was beginning to panic. He envisioned all of the things that could hurt her, and he fought to conceal a growl that erupted from deep within him.
“Sure, why don’t I wait around while you sweet talk me up and then attack me anyway?” She headed out the door after grabbing her gun.
Chapter 2 - Keith
Chevalier appeared in the barn as the Dodge pickup spun out and pulled away from the ranch quickly. He instantly picked up the smell of numerous heku and frowned. Jerry was right. The smell was disturbing and out of the ordinary. He soon found the mentioned coal shed and reached down to touch the ashes, then brought some to his nose and smelled it before dropping them back onto the floor.
He went back into the barn and looked up toward the loft. He climbed the ladder quickly, and his eyes narrowed as he caught the fresh scent of a wild heku, one of his own kind that had turned themselves over completely to their instincts, leaving all signs of humanity behind them. He ran back to his car and called the Council to fill them in on what he’d seen so far. They instructed him to try to get more information, so he sat back to wait for morning. Emily’s husband returned early in the morning, but he continued to wait for her.
Chevalier saw her truck return to the ranch shortly after dawn, and he got out of his car, almost immediately appearing in the barn’s loft. He sat on a cot and watched out the small window that overlooked the house.
She pulled the truck up in front of the ranch house and jumped out, smiling widely as she ran to the front steps. Seated there was an elderly man with an archaic Stetson perched crookedly on his head. He was slumped over slightly in a wheelchair.
Emily bent down, “I’m back, Dad.”
His eyes stared far off, empty, and unfocused. He didn’t move as she pulled a blanket from beside him and wrapped it around his shoulders. She kissed him lightly on the cheek and then stood to greet another man who was walking toward her.
“Hiya, Sam.”
“Ms. Em, good to have ya back.” He stopped just short of the steps and smiled up at her. The man looked almost the same age as Emily’s Dad. He was short and stout with overalls and a dusty hat that made him blend into the scene. He took his hat off and fidgeted with it.
“Sam, what’s wrong?”
“Der’s a spook up on the lower 20. I tell Mr. Keith, but he say it jus a coyote but, Ma’am, I ain’t never seen a coyote that done hid like dis did. Almos cause a stampede.”
“I’ll go check it out, get Patra ready,” she told him, crouching back down by her dad.
“Duty calls,” she said, and kissed his cheek again lightly.
Sam almost ran toward the barn, seemingly afraid to turn around and face the house.
Emily turned to the house, squared her shoulders, and walked in, shutting the door behind her softly.
He hit with no warning. He grabbed her left wrist and twisted her arm behind her back, then shoved her hard against the door, sending the door handle painfully into her ribs, “I called you last night. You didn’t answer,” Keith hissed, his face just inches from her. “Who were you with?”
Through the pain, she managed to gasp, “Stop it.”
Keith twisted her wrist harder and slammed his body into hers again, smiling when she screamed out in pain, “Tell me.”
“I couldn’t sleep. I went to do some work at the office. I swear,” she said, unable to move. The pain made her breathing shallow and strained.
He thought about it for a moment and then released her, a grin spreading across his face, “Well why didn’t you say so? Good to see you!”
She took a step away from him as he reached out and pushed her hard to the floor. As she pulled herself back up, he sat at the table and began to eat.
Leaning against the door, she caught her breath and then turned and went into the bedroom. She threw on a warm flannel shirt, grabbed her leather gloves and cowboy hat, and tried to make a break for the front door, rubbing her wrist absentmindedly.
“Where you going?” he asked, pouring clear liquid from a flask into his Coke. Keith was older than Emily, and his face showed the hardened skin of someone who worked outdoors. He was of average height, but was well-built and sported a dark farmer’s tan.
“I’m taking Patra out,” she said, and reached for the door handle, hoping that was the last of it.
Keith laughed ostentatiously, “I’ve been alone for four days… mostly.” His grin got wider, “I don’t see you staying to take care of me.”
She didn’t reply as she left and made her way to the barn. Waiting for her was the beautiful painted mare, who shook her head swiftly when she saw Emily approach. Emily grabbed Patra’s large head and pressed her forehead and nose into the soft velvet of the horse’s muzzle. After a few seconds, she jumped onto the mare’s back and headed her out of the barn.
Emily waved to Sam, who was taking her father back inside the house as a cold rain began to drizzle. She clicked her tongue twice, and Patra began to walk slowly south. She had a long Remington lying across her lap with the Blue Healer and a Border collie following behind her.
She was just enjoying her freedom. The dogs were loping along, exploring, as Patra broke into a gallop. The wind tugged at her long red ponytail, and she shut her eyes to savor the feel of the wind and the smell of the hay. As she approached the south twenty, she slowed the horse to a walk and dismounted to open the gate.
Her body froze as the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.
Someone was watching.
“Who’s there?” she asked in as calm a voice as she could muster.
The dogs were crouched on their bellies, and Patra was snorting and shying. She took the horse by her bridle and attempted to calm her. The feeling passed as suddenly as it had begun, and she climbed back onto the mare.
She led Patra to the trees and scanned the forest for any movement, but didn’t see anything, then slowly made her way to a large clearing and lifted her rifle, using the scope to more closely look around. Things were quiet, only a gopher was visible, and there were no signs of a coyote.
Emily rode for the rest of the afternoon, not seeing nor feeling anything else out of the ordinary, just enjoying the feel of the powerful animal between her legs, moving to her command. The slightest pressure from a knee or heel was all she needed. The dogs bounced and played, chasing jackrabbits and flushing birds.
She neared the ranch house as the sun was about to set, and she felt her heart rise in her throat. She knew what she had to do tonight, and felt the dread rising. She’d had four days of peace and quiet, and she realized that now was the time to pay for that solitude.
Emily took her time unhooking the saddle and putting it back on the stand. She brushed Patra carefully and enjoyed the quietness of the barn.
Just as she was locking the mare’s stall door, Keith’s arms wrapped tightly around her waist, “Welcome back, Emi.”
She pulled away from him and headed back to the ranch house.
“Your Dad’s asleep, we have the night to ourselves,” Keith said, placing his hand on the small of her back.
Emily nodded, “Let me get a hot shower and a bite to eat, and I’ll be ready.”
Keith swept her off her feet and carried her quickly into the house, “You know I like the scent of a woman.”
Emily winced as he threw her down on the bed.
***
She crawled out of the bed when Keith began to snore. The hot water from the shower felt amazing, and she took longer than usual to finish up. Throwing on a robe, Emily went to the refrigerator and opened it. She scanned inside, but didn’t find anything interesting to eat. Grabbing a piece of cheese, she shut the door and turned around.
“Hello, again,” Chevalier said to her from the dark shadows of the kitchen.
Emily gasped and covered her mouth with her hand to stop from screaming.
“Surely, you can find something better to eat than that,” he said, stepping out of the shadow toward her.
“You can’t be here!” Emily whispered, and glanced toward the bedroom door.
“I can be anywhere I want,” he told her, raising his eyebrows and grinning.
Emily ran to him and put her hands against his chest, trying to push him out the door, “Please get out.”
The feel of her hands on his chest sent a shiver through his body and made his mind whirl. He steadied himself as she pushed against him as hard as she could. He didn’t budge.
“Get out,” she whispered again. Emily looked at the bedroom door in a panic as the snoring stopped.
She felt a rush of air and found herself in the barn, and she staggered from the change. Chevalier gently steadied her with his hand.
Emily looked around as Patra whinnied loudly at the sudden intrusion.
She peeked out the door of the barn toward the house. Chevalier stood, watching her.
“You can’t be here, please go,” she said, still watching the house with one hand perched on the barn door.
“Let me see, Child,” Chevalier said. He reached out and took her hand, examining her wrist.
She tried to pull her hand away from him, but he didn’t release it.
“Let go,” she demanded.
His eyes grew darker as he gently touched her swollen wrist and bruised hand, and she pulled harder against his hand.
“Interesting,” he said, letting go of her wrist.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m interested in how you know my kind. I’d like to talk,” he said, sitting down on a chair shaped stack of hay.
“I can’t, You're just going to cause me trouble,” she said as she instinctively felt her sore ribs where the door handle hit her earlier.
“Yes I see that. I can take care of him easily enough,” he said, and smiled, hoping she would take him up on his offer.
“No!” she shouted, and her eyes were afraid. “Just leave, please.”
Chevalier held his hand up and inhaled, his eyes suddenly scanning the barn.
“What?” She looked around.
“Hush, Child,” he whispered. He stood and sniffed the air again. Finding a trail up into the loft of the barn, he climbed the ladder as Emily watched him curiously.
She sighed as he disappeared into the loft, then looked around and wrapped her robe tighter around her. The barn was cold from the recent rain. Emily went and held Patra, using the warmth from the horse to help keep away the chills.
Chevalier could smell the foul beast from below, the stench of one of his own kind that let themselves be overcome by their desires, no control, no caring. He breathed in the disgusting odor and moved closer. He wasn’t far into the loft before he saw the hay quivering slightly.
“Get out, wild one,” he hissed, and the shivering bump in the hay became still.
He heard a low growl.
Chevalier crouched, his hands balling into fists, “Now, or I will kill you in there.”
The feral heku emerged. He was stooped low and covered only with a torn loincloth. He was dirty and had gashes across his skin. His hair was matted on top of his head, and his teeth were chipped and black.
“This is my farm, leave!” he hissed at Chevalier.
“You have no rights to this place.” Chevalier stood tall and looked at the vile heku.
“Mine, mine, mine,” the heku chanted. “The man is mine.”
“How long have you fed on the man here?”
“Mine, mine for 50 years.” The chanting was getting on Chevalier’s nerves.
“With his permission?”
“Mine… mine… mine… always.”
“Tell me,” Chevalier growled, moving closer to the other.
“I don’t need his permission. He is mine!” the wild heku said, and took a step away as he noticed Chevalier’s intense eyes.
“That’s enough of a confession for me. As Chief Enforcer, I hereby banish you,” Chevalier growled.
“Nooooo! No banishment for me,” he begged.
Chevalier pulled a small dagger from his pocket, poked his finger, and let a drop of blood fall. The growls and begging from the wild heku turned to screams that pierced the night. He could hear the horses kicking in their stalls and the cows running away from the sound. The wild one turned to ash before him, and Chevalier fell to his knees. Such magic took a lot from the Enforcer, and he steadied himself against the hay.
He listened intently and barely picked up the sound of Emily disappearing into the house. He sighed and sat down on the hay, out of breath. As Chief Enforcer of his heku faction, he was able to perform magic that others couldn’t, but at considerable risk to himself. He shut his eyes and meditated, listening to the sound of the wind through the barn roof. When he felt strong enough, he stood up and scraped the ashes from the loft floor into a small leather bag and cinched it tightly.
***
Chevalier sat in his place on the Council, the 13 highest-ranking heku of his faction. He watched over the proceedings, knowing his turn was coming. As much as he wanted to concentrate on the trial at hand, he found it hard with Emily alone on the ranch. Part of why the Council was addressing him, he figured. Storm, one of the highest ranking heku in Chevalier’s coven, sat in the audience and watched him eagerly.
“Chief Enforcer, it is your turn to take the stand,” the only female on the Council said. She was Selest, one of the three Elders of the Equites.
Chevalier stood and took his place, facing the Council.
“Chief Enforcer, we were told you encountered a situation that you found may need our further attention,” Selest said to him, and then sat down.
“Yes, Elder, I have. I followed up on the report from Jerry and found a young mortal woman who seems to have been plagued by our kind for most of her life. I even found a wild one hiding in her barn that has been feeding off of her father,” he explained.
“Is the father a willing donor?”
“No, the father is in no shape to make any decisions. From what I have seen, he’s no longer able to speak and seems to be unaware of his surroundings.” There was a hiss through the Council.
“This wild one was feeding on a mortal invalid?” the tallest Elder asked.
“Yes, for 50 years he’s been on the ranch and has been feeding on the father for quite some time, Elder Leonid.” Chevalier’s voice was disappointed.
“And did you banish this wild one?”
He nodded, “I did.”
“Then your job there is finished?” the third Elder, Maleth, asked.
“I want to continue to study the woman. There’s something strange about her. Her blood doesn’t smell like others… it’s sweeter and with all of the attacks in her past, I am afraid her enticing scent may cause further attacks.” He kept his immense desire to protect her to himself.
“It’s abhorrent what has happened to this mortal child. We envision a life where mortals no longer fear us and attacks such as these undermine our progress,” Leonid said.
Chevalier nodded.
“We give you full powers for this matter, Chief Enforcer, and we trust you will use them wisely… we give you carte blanche.” A gasp was heard around the entire room, and Chevalier nodded. He knew that the Elders were keeping something from him, he’d never heard of anyone being granted such powers.
He held out the bag of ash, “What is to be done with the wild one?”
Selest stood and motioned for the large heku in the corner to come forward, “Derrick will take him and bury his ashes. We’ll see how a thousand years of banishment will cure his appetite.”
Chevalier handed the bag over to Derrick and then left. Storm followed him out of the room.
As Chevalier walked down the hallway, deep in thought, Storm touched his arm softly.
“Please… don’t be mad, but when you left suddenly for Montana, I did some research.”
He stopped and looked at her, “Of what type?”
She sighed and handed him a large folder before speaking, “I know you’ve heard the story of the Winchesters. We all have. I wanted to go over the file though, just as a precaution. Back in the early 16th century, there were mass heku hunts and slayings. I'm sure you remember them. The commoners actually thought they were hunting the infamous vampire. In Europe, they were being led by the Winchester family. That one family is credited with killing over 100,000 heku. The head of the Winchester family, Miles Winchester, had four daughters, the youngest of which was named Elizabeth.”
Chevalier wondered where this was going.
“The reason the Winchesters were so intent on killing the heku was because their family was known to our kind as being a ‘Dulcris Cruor’ or Sweet Blood, a trait handed down in the female line. Their blood called to any immortal around them, and they were haunted by violent attacks. Elizabeth, however, fell in love with one of her attackers and left the Winchester family to be with him. That union produced four daughters. These daughters were not only part of the ‘Dulcris Cruor’ family, they also had some of the innate traits of the heku father, who was head of his coven. You can see how this made them especially powerful.”
“These women were powerful enough to kill a heku with a single glance, yet the heku followed them, stalking them in the shadows, and eventually they would risk their own lives for just one taste of the Winchester blood. The Winchester women were sought after by the most powerful covens in the world, offered riches and wealth. If a coven should have one of the Winchester family in their midst, said coven would be unstoppable, one that would become a type of royalty in our world.”
“In the late 1800s, the females from the Winchester line made a pact to no longer further their line, to stop the torment of the immortal. The ‘Dulcris Cruor’ caused extreme attraction to the family by both immortals and to animals. The attacks became so brutal that their pact was made to stop the harassment. One sister, and only one, made a mistake and broke the pact after falling in love with a man leaving for the new world.
“She has only one direct line, a line that ends with a sole female heir…”
“Do the Elders know any of this?” he asked, his mind spinning.
“I don’t know, and there’s no way to be sure if it’s even relevant. It’s all I could find when I was searching through our Montana coven listing.” She hesitated, and then walked away.
***
Storm’s words rang through his head as he sat in his 1st class seat, headed back for Great Falls. The folder she handed him was on his lap, and his fingers tapped it lightly. He couldn’t hold off any longer. Opening the file, he was suddenly faced with the photo of a remarkably beautiful woman. She was standing alongside an Arabian stallion. The photo was in black and white, indicative of the year that was imprinted on the back side, 1959.
There was but a single notation, written in longhand on a piece of parchment inside of the folder.
Last Known Member of the Winchester Line
Name: Elizabeth Amy Barnett (maiden) (deceased)
Location: America (no further, though strong ties in Montana and North Dakota)
Married: Confirmed
Husband’s Name: Unknown
Children: 1 son (deceased), 1 daughter (name unknown)
Source: Father Emarcus Belaery (Head of Drakni Coven), deceased
Note: No indication she knows of her abilities, further study required.
***
Chevalier sat on his bed in the hotel in tiny Cascade, Montana, and thought about the powers he was granted. The rules they, as heku, were to follow, were to protect their secret from the mortals, but also to protect the mortals themselves. He wondered how much of what Storm told him, the Elders already knew. As far as he knew, no one had ever been granted the ability to break the rules of conduct that their kind held in such high regard.
He thumbed once more through the small file on Elizabeth Ann and sat up suddenly when his eyes caught something he hadn’t seen before. Standing behind the woman and her horse was a man who looked alarmingly like Sam, a Sam of the same age as he currently is. This man could be Sam’s father, but the image wasn’t similar. It was exact. Hiding the file deep inside the locked safe, he headed out to his car. He had photographic memory, and this was Sam down to the last wrinkle and the small mole he had on the right of his neck.
He was also confused by his growing feelings for Emily. Never in his thousands of years had he felt like this for a mortal. It was abnormal for his kind.
Chevalier was out in his car in less than a second and pulled it onto the country road that led directly to Emily’s ranch.
He grabbed his phone and dialed. Storm answered on the first ring, “In your research, did you come across any type of protector for the Winchester family? Maybe even a long-standing ally?”
He could hear as she ruffled through papers before answering, “No, nothing like that, Sir.”
Chevalier sighed.
“There is one other thing I found, something you need to be very careful of. The ‘Dulcris Cruor’, as I’ve said, is appealing to all immortals, but apparently its call to the heku is so strong, that the feeder is unable to stop once they begin. Unable as in... until the blood is gone. Each taste gets more and more appealing until finally the will to stop is no longer present.” Storm rattled the information off quickly.
Chevalier clicked his phone shut and sped up. He could see the ranch ahead of him. The Dodge pickup was parked in front of it. He drove past it and parked in an abandoned farmhouse not more than a mile away. He could traverse the distance quickly without anyone noticing.
It was dusk when he reached the farmhouse. Lights were on in the house, but also in the barn, and he heard voices.
“Is it broken?” Emily asked, and her voice sounded strained.
“I don’t tink so, jis hold still,” Sam replied. He sounded like he was concentrating, “Remine me ta teach you how t’punch.”
“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?” She sounded slightly amused, but then she groaned, “Stop that, that hurts!”
Chevalier appeared in the loft and watched them from above. Emily was sitting on a bale of hay with her hand outstretched to Sam. He was winding it tightly with an ace bandage.
“Ya should go to da hospital, Ms. Em,” he said to her matter-of-factly.
“That’s all I need, Sam. I just assaulted him. You want me to land in jail?” she asked, and smiled weakly.
Sam motioned toward the house, “He’s not lef yet.”
“He’s not going to leave either, he told me that… I just don’t want to go back in there now that he’s been drinking.” Emily winced as Sam continued to bandage her hand.
“You stay in Sam’s bunkhouse den.”
“It’s ok, Sam. I'll stay here in the barn. There’s a make-shift bed in the loft.”
There was a long silence while Sam thought it out and finally agreed. He took a hard look at the house, glanced back at Emily, and then walked to the bunkhouse.
Emily stood up from the hay and looked at the long ladder leading up to the loft. She sighed and started up it, one handed. At the top rung, she inhaled sharply and brought her hand to her face. A deep splinter had embedded into her palm and a trickle of blood spilled onto the ladder.
Chevalier meant to wait for her quietly in the loft, but the smell of blood assaulted his senses, all he wanted was to taste just a little of it. He had a vision of grabbing her and holding her pinned as he tasted the hot blood from her neck. He began to salivate, and his head throbbed with hunger. He could feel his muscles contract, ready to attack.
He stopped suddenly. The moment only lasted a fraction of a second, but he recoiled slightly at how far it had gone. He turned to see if Emily had seen him, and knew immediately.
She stared up at him, still standing on the ladder, “I thought I told you to go away.”
Chevalier breathed deeply of her heady musk and shut his eyes to force his instincts back under his control. He opened them slowly and looked down at her as a drop of blood slid precariously down her wrist.
“That you did.” He moved to her quickly and took her hands, pulling her off of the ladder and up to face him.
Too fast for Emily to fight back, he had her pinned to his body, and his sharp canines dug easily into the flesh on her neck. She gasped and pushed at him, trying to make him stop. The euphoria began to sweep over her, and her eyes shut as she quit fighting.
He pulled away from her, relishing in the taste of her blood as it quenched the thirst and wet the back of his burning throat. He met her gaze and was shocked that the euphoric feeling had lasted only a few seconds. She was now staring up at him with her piercing green eyes, and her anger shone brightly in them.
Emily reached out and slapped him, then began to head down the ladder.
“Just like the others…” she grumbled as she ran to the house.
Chevalier barely made it to the door of the bunkhouse when it opened and Sam looked at him.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Sam said plainly, and then the pain hit.
Chevalier’s body was wracked with fire, every fiber of his being felt as if it had suddenly exploded in flames. He was knocked to his knees, and his mind screamed with more pain than he’d ever felt. He was only partially aware as Sam pulled him inside the bunkhouse and shut the door. What seemed like an eternity later, the pain started to subside, and Chevalier could see Sam standing beside him with a broom.
“What… happened…?” he was able to ask with much effort.
“Hrm,” Sam grunted, his eyebrows rose. “She must have gotten distracted, no ashes to clean up this time.” He put the broom away.
Chevalier’s head swam, and he drifted into unconsciousness. He found his body unable to move. The weight of it was improbable. Through the darkness, he could clearly hear everything going on at the small ranch.
The cock of a shotgun.
The barn door opening.
Heavy footsteps returning to the house, “I don’t see anyone in there, Emi. Was it another one of them?” Keith asked with disgust.
“Yes, I’ve seen him a few times, but this is the first he’s attacked. He seemed different though, at least at first. He wasn’t begging me to join some stupid coven or jumping from the shadows to bite me.”
“How do you attract these weirdoes?” he asked her.
Emily’s voice sounded worried, “Maybe Sam got him?”
“That old man? What’s he going to do, hit the guy with a bridle?” Keith was obviously having fun.
“It’s not funny, Keith. Go check on Sam.”
Keith sighed and walked out the door of the house just as Sam opened the bunkhouse door and stepped out.
“Evening, Sam,” Keith said cordially.
“Hello, Mr. Keith.”
“Seen anyone around tonight? Any ashes?”
“No, Sir, no ashes. Mayhap he run?”
“Hasn’t stopped her from killing them before. If you do find ashes, just keep up the story that I killed them.”
“Yes, Sir, I un’rstand.”
Sam returned to the bunkhouse as Keith went back into the house.
Sam looked down at Chevalier as he opened his eyes slowly, “You broke the code.”
Chevalier stood and shook his head clear of the pain, “Who the hell do you think I am?”
Sam blinked, “What do you mean?”
He was able to pull himself up to his tallest, “I am Chief Enforcer of the Equites, and as such, we take this as an assault on the Council. I am no longer bound by the laws of my kind. I suggest you tell your mistress that so much as a burning in my little finger… and I’ll kill her.”
Sam glared, “Touch her over my dead body.”
Chevalier looked at him, “I have business with her. If she wants to continue to breathe, I suggest she find time to meet with me.”
Sam blinked, and Chevalier was gone.
Chapter 3 - Ulrich
Chevalier’s phone rang softly as he lie in bed, thinking about what had transpired. He hesitated, then answered, “Yes, Storm?”
She sounded nervous, very uncharacteristic for her, “Sir, are you in trouble?”
“No, why?” He sounded tired and still strained from the pain earlier.
“I had a phone call from one of the Old Ones.” She paused to see if he responded, but then continued, “It’s Lord Ulrich von Weiskgaard, from the Valle. He wants to meet with you immediately.”
Chevalier frowned slightly. He was one of the Old Ones, so why did she seem so nervous? “About?”
“He won’t say, Sir, but he did mention that the meeting need not include any of the rest of the Council.”
He thought that sounded odd, but agreed, “Very well, where shall we meet?”
“Lord Ulrich is in Great Falls.”
He shook his head, wondering what could be up now, “Ok, tell him to meet me in the conference room at my hotel in one hour.”
“Yes, Sir…” She hesitated, and then hung up.
Chevalier tried to clear his head, but his thoughts kept turning back to Emily. She had unknowingly tried to kill him tonight, yet he still felt the urge to protect her. He noticed, frustratingly, that even as his thoughts were trying to focus on the upcoming meeting, they still held her image closely as if trying to bring her to him. The very thought of her brought his instincts forward and he longed for another taste of her blood.
The concierge booked the room for him easily. It was always amazing what a simple $100 bill would do to a mortal. He sat at the head of the table and watched the clock, anxious to get this meeting over with so he could get back on track at the ranch.
The doors opened and in walked Lord Ulrich. He was obviously one of the Old Ones, and as he looked at Chevalier, his eyes were scrutinizing. He wore the black suit and conspicuous black cape that had long been abandoned in the new world. Behind him were six well-dressed heku, obviously the top ranks of his coven.
He stood at the table and one of them removed his cloak and pushed a chair up for him. As he sat down, they formed a semi-circle of protection around him. Last to walk in was Sam. He was still dressed in denim overalls and looked quite out of place with the others in the room. He shut the door behind him and sat down at Ulrich’s right.
Chevalier eyed Sam suspiciously.
“I am Lord Ulrich von Weiskgaard, head of the Debalih Coven. I know who you are… so now I ask a simple question… What are you doing with Emily Russo?”
Chevalier narrowed his eyes, “Seven of you, how remarkable. So tell me, how long have you known of the existence of this killer here in the middle of North America?”
Ulrich’s eyes widened, “How dare you address me so!”
Chevalier grinned mirthlessly, “I dare much. I was burned at the stake with the Templar. I enjoyed a Bloodbath in Jerusalem. I have been around much longer than any of your whelps in attendance here. I daresay that the insolence, if there is such, lies on the part of old world covens that’ve apparently hidden a violation of the Pact into some place where they believed that they could hide it indefinitely.”
Ulrich glared at him.
Chevalier sat at the conference table and propped his feet up, “Nonetheless, we must take this opportunity to deal with the issue.”
One of the young heku slapped Chevalier boots off the table, “You will not address Lord Ulrich in that manner!”
Chevalier stood up, his hands in fists, “I will address him in any way I see fit.”
Ulrich smiled with a gleam in his eyes. Chevalier tried to remember where he had seen those eyes.
Ulrich motioned to his coven, and they left without a word, except Sam, who stayed in his chair, “Enough with the frivolities. I come seeking answers, so I’ll ask you again, what do you want with Emily Russo?”
“What I’m doing is of no concern to you, it's Equites business,” Chevalier said bluntly.
“It has everything to do with me. I assure you.”
“What you did makes you no better than Keith!” Sam yelled, standing up.
“I am nothing like Keith!” Chevalier yelled, pounding his fist on the table and splintering it. “Drinking Emily’s blood without permission was necessary. Keith finds it fun to beat on someone who relies on him.”
“Sam… let us be,” Ulrich said calmly. Sam turned into a small cat, jumped off the chair, and ran out the door, “My familiar can be very protective of her.”
“Apparently”
“I know that you are part of the Council, and I also know the Elders have been after Elizabeth Winchester’s family for years. I’ve been able to keep them safe, it seems, until now. What do you want? What can I give that will get you to turn around and leave Emily alone?”
Chevalier noted the sorrowed expression on Ulrich’s face and thought carefully before speaking, “I don’t want anything from you. I’m not here to destroy her.”
“Then what do you want?” His eyes narrowed as he grew angry.
“I still don’t think it’s any of your concern.”
“It is my concern when my family is involved,” Ulrich said, clenching his jaw.
The eyes, they were familiar. They were Emily’s eyes. The truth hit Chevalier. Ulrich was the heku with which Elizabeth Winchester had fallen love.
Ulrich sat back in the chair. He seemed exhausted, “I’ve watched over my family for hundreds of years, and during that time, the heku blood was almost bred out of the line. I was so close to having my descendants fully mortal, no longer sought by the Councils as murderers.”
Chevalier waited, trying to wrap his mind around what he was hearing.
“Emily’s mother had almost no power at all, and then he found her. Elizabeth Ann married Allen Flynn and had a son. Elizabeth’s father was Irish, and she had his temper, but had yet to display anything beyond that. None of the powers are held by the males in the family, so I couldn’t tell if the hundreds of years of torment had come to an end. For one brief period of time, I sent Sam on an errand, away from the Flynn family, and another heku found her.” He paused and pain crept into his voice, “He had the power to clear the mind. Elizabeth Ann didn’t even know what was happening.”
Everything was becoming clear, “Then Emily was born.”
Ulrich nodded, “I wasn’t sure if the baby was Allen’s or not, I also wasn’t sure if another heku could bring back the powers that I bestowed, unknowingly, upon the family. The heku kept visiting Elizabeth Ann, and one night, he lost control. Her blood had become like a drug to him.”
Ulrich’s voice softened, “He killed her, and when he still wasn’t satiated, he also killed her son, desperately seeking more of the ‘Dulcris Cruor’. Emily was only 2 years old, and when he approached her, smelling the scent of the sweet blood on her, she turned him to ash in less than a second. It was then that I knew that it had all started over. She was even more powerful than my own daughters.”
Chevalier’s muscles tightened as he realized how quickly the Factions would have Emily killed if they knew what he knew. He suddenly felt like taking her far away from them, hiding her, protecting her.
“She can’t know what she can do.” Ulrich’s voice strengthened.
“Why?” Chevalier asked. It didn’t make sense.
“If she makes the same decision her ancestors did, not to carry on the family line, then my Elizabeth will die out, nothing left of her or us… I watch over her and make sure she’s safe, with the help of Sam.”
“Safe? You call living with Keith safe?” Chevalier growled at him.
“Keith was a fortunate accident. I don’t meddle in the mortal affairs of my granddaughters… I only step in when the immortal interfere.”
“Fortunate accident?” Chevalier asked, confused.
“Yes fortunate. He’s weak minded and takes credit for the missing that Emily has turned to ash. She finds protection being with him, and with that protection, comes some comfort. As long as Keith takes credit for getting rid of… shall we say… admirers, then she won’t know that she has killed.”
“How many?” Chevalier asked.
Ulrich looked into his eyes, “I don’t trust you enough to divulge any more. I just tell you I will not stand by while my bloodline is polluted by yet another heku.”
“I… what??” He fumed when he realized what Ulrich was implying.
“Stay away from her.”
“I have no intention of being a father any time soon.” The word ‘polluted’ touched a nerve.
Ulrich studied his face, “You have no desires for her at all?”
Chevalier’s face was steady as he lied, “None at all.” His thoughts echoed in his head, “Like no other.”
“She’s of the ‘Dulcris Cruor’, the more of her blood you feed on, the more you’ll want her and trust me, you will end up killing her. Let her be, let her live her mortal life and start again breeding out the heku. She’s a caring girl, if she finds out how many she’s killed…” His eyes watched Chevalier. His piercing gaze so much like Emily’s.
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