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DARK DREAMS: Power written by Multi-Facets
For my fellow oddity Sascha, my pals Tigrr Wildcat, Lady Saint-Croix, Mrs. Starsmore, Doc Samson and Z. ThanX for all your excellent advice, angles and the ego-boostings when I needed it most.
Prologue: A few nights ago in a little church in Snow Valley, a hunter wove a trap for her quarry....
Deiva couldn't wait any longer. She had finally found the one who would enhance her meager talents and unlock the immense power she knew lay dormant in her mind, and she intended to get him…. by all means possible.
Deiva floated three feet off the dusty wooden floor of the church, sternly disciplining her mind and firmly controlling her breathing, slipping into a meditative trance, where her mental guards would be down and she could do as she would. She might be young and newly Embraced, but she knew more than most of her Elders. She knew how to use her knowledge of meditation and breathing techniques to increase what little power she had, and that's what she was doing now. Deiva had attempted to manipulate the One in his sleep before, but all her tries had been unsuccessful so far. He had just gotten nervous and unhappy. Now Deiva was plunging deep into his mind and heart, bringing forth all his inner dreams. Those were the key to his seduction. Deiva smiled, baring glittering white teeth. She hissed, "All this I'll promise you, powerful one. And then, you'll be mine...."
End Prologue.
It was full of moon-cast shadows in his room.
Paige was standing at the foot of his bed, wearing filmy white lingerie that flowed in some places and became tight in others. She must have borrowed the thing from Emma, but it actually looked really good on her. Golden hair cascaded down Paige's back in loose waves, and her sapphire blue, lustrously lashed eyes pierced his, flooding him with longing. Slowly Paige advanced, climbing onto the bed and crawling to where he sat up against his pillows. Her sensual, seashell-pink lips parted, and her voice came out in a low, pleading whisper: "I love you, Jonothon. Don't you want me?"
"You know I do. I love you," he answered, just as softly.
Paige smiled and rocked back on her heels, undoing the small buttons that held the nightgown shut. Sleekly it slid off her shoulders and folded around her feet, revealing the fair flesh of all her curves. The soft silver moonlight touched her gently, infusing her skin with the gleam of a pearl and making her hair shimmer softly, and her eyes appeared to glow. God, she was so beautiful! So desirable. Everything he wanted in a woman.
Paige leaned forward, resting her hands on his chest and lowering her mouth in front of his, just a fingernail-length away in silent invitation. He accepted, lifting his chin a little and meeting her soft lips as he wrapped his arms around her slender body, deftly twisting so she was pinned under him. Passion spontaneously combusted, rising in heat as their desire grew with each kiss, each caress.
A woman's voice brushed over his mind in the midst of the overwhelming pleasure. "You will have her if you help me," the voice breathed. "I promise you, as I have promised you everything else you ever desired. But to get it all, you must help me...."
Jonothon Starsmore bolted awake and sat up fast, shoulders heaving in a semblance of frantically choking for air. All was quiet except for his frenzied, mental gasps echoing lightly in his skull. That, he thought, was way too intense. Too unreal. And…. And as much as I hate to admit it to myself, I.... I liked it.
He fell back on the pillows, trembling and lifting a hand to his forehead. His skin was very warm and beaded with sweat. He felt too hot and sticky for comfort. With a groan, Jono shoved off the covers and went to his bathroom, shedding his sleepwear and the thick black bandages that covered the gaping hole in his body. He stepped into a chilly shower. The cold water was comforting, almost. Jono closed his eyes, tilted his head up into the icy spray and scrubbed himself with a cloth, ridding himself of the sweat while he thought about the dreams that had been haunting him. In every single one, he was healed, whole and handsome, with a chest, a mouth, a heart and all, just as he longed to be.
In the first dream, he had been running through the campus woods, reveling in the wind on his face, delighting in the bunching and stretching of the hard muscles lacing his lean frame, feeling joy from the simple act of inhaling and exhaling and the pounding of his heart. In the second, he had been eating and drinking to his heart's content. In the third dream, Jonothon had been onstage, singing his heart out to a humongous crowd of adoring fans, as he had in the past. And now.... a dream of fiery ardor.
Jonothon shuddered. The dreams were enough to make him feel sorry for himself all over again, and he had been shaking off depression for years.
The cold finally got to him and he turned the water off. Shivering, he dried himself, paying special attention to his dark auburn hair. Few things were less unpleasant than cold, wet hair soaking your pillow. Jonothon tossed aside the towel, rewrapped the bandages around his torso and face, pulled on fresh sleepwear and went back to bed; climbing under the covers, closing his eyes and focusing on relaxing. Jono knew if he tried to fall asleep, he never would.
He wasn't so sure that he wanted to drift off, anyway. If he did, he was sure he'd dream more of those torturous dreams....
It was a long time before Jono could sleep again.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*
"Yesssss!" Deiva cheered, coming out of her trance. "I'm finally doing it! I'm getting to him; I'm wearing him down," she babbled excitedly, landing on her feet. She shook the mane of short, curly space-black hair framing her heart-shaped face as she laughed in joy. "Soon, Elders, you will see I DO deserve to be on the Council with you," she vowed. Her wide, slanted black eyes flashed. "Sooner than you think...."
*_*_*_*_*_*_*
Jonothon frantically yanked on his shiny uniform and his trademark black leather jacket and ran into the Danger Room half an hour late. He had overslept.... again. This was not going to sit well with his friends and especially not with his teachers.
The rest of Generation X was standing around impatiently and Sean Cassidy was waiting for him, heavily muscled arms crossed over his wide chest and a scowl on his open, fatherly face. "Ye're late," he said with a loud sigh. "Fourth time this week. I hope ye have a better excuse than 'I dinnae sleep well' or 'I overslept' this time, Chamber."
*I don't,* Jono admitted.
Sean sighed again. "Make sure it doesnae happen again, lad," he said, not too unkindly.
*Sorry. No promises,* Chamber said bluntly, and walked with his usual soundlessness into the center of the room. Sean shook his head and entered the control booth with his co-teacher, Emma Frost/White Queen.
Generation X was staring at him. "You're spazzin' out on us about as often as the M-twins did," the pyrotechnic projector named Jubilee said bluntly. "Wha's up with that, Starsmore?"
*I don't want to talk about it,* Chamber snapped.
"How typical is that?" Jubilee muttered. Jonothon glared at her.
A light hand rested on his arm. Jonothon promptly ignored Jubilee and saw Paige "Husk" Guthrie smiling coaxingly as she stood at his right. "If you want to talk about it later, I'll listen," she offered, compassion in her breathy voice.
Jonothon met her stare. I dreamed about you last night, Paige, he thought. You said you loved me. You were offering yourself to me. But I can't tell you that.
The thoughts made him feel even worse. *I can deal with this myself,* Chamber answered, a hint of ice in his words.
Nonplussed, Paige removed her hand. Briefly she wondered what was happening to put Jono's boxers in such a twist. Then she thought about whether or not he wore boxers.... and firmly put that train of thought away.
"Pay attention, kids!" Banshee called over the sound system. "This workout is one I helped Forge think it up, so it's bound tae be a good one. Separate corners, please. Activating Danger Room sequence 45 now!"
Huge walls erupted from the floor and slammed against the ceiling, effectively separating the team from each other. "Whoa!" Everett "Synch" Thomas yelped. He glanced about frantically. Where was Jubilee? She had been right beside him a second ago. "Jubilee?" he yelled.
He heard a muffled response. "I'm on the other side of this thing!" she yelled back.
"Your objective is to get to the center of the maze and rescue the hostage being held there," Emma explained, cutting through the general din. "You will encounter several opponents. If you are with someone, you must work together to finish this. If not.... Too bad. Begin!"
And so they did. "Simulation complete," a mechanical voice announced some time later, and the maze and obstacles vanished.
"Good job, everyone! I'm very proud of ye," Banshee called over the address system. "Ye all may adjourn for lunch."
Gen X immediately started walking toward the gym doors, chatting away and congratulating each other. Jonothon followed. He didn't eat, but he was planning on going back down to the basement to brood a little, maybe play his guitar.
"Ah, wait a minute Jono," Banshee said firmly. "Ye're not excused, young man."
Jonothon froze, cringing from the stern tone in Sean's voice. I'm in trouble, he told himself glumly.
"I, for one, am tired of your tardiness, Chamber," Emma announced. "I want you to put in some extra time here to make up for it. Understood?"
Jono groaned to himself. *All right,* he unwillingly agreed. At least it wouldn't be that bad: He could blow off some steam.
Emma nodded in satisfaction. "This simulation will test your unarmed combat skills," she explained, fingers flying over the controls.
And so the exercises began, and lasted for the rest of the day.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
Paige was waiting outside the gym doors when the session finally ended and Jonothon stumbled out, so tired he could barely see straight. The taxing workouts and last night's lack of slumber were compounding together, making him stagger more than walk. He didn't even notice Paige was there until she said, "Jonothon? Are you okay? You look like you're going to keel over."
Jono jumped, recovered, and insisted, *I'm not.*
"They were hard on you, huh?" Paige asked sympathetically.
Jono shrugged. *Depends what you mean by "hard on me". I'm just.... going to the basement,* he told her. He turned to leave, but tripped and would have landed on his face if he hadn't grabbed the wall for support.
Paige was suddenly at his side, helping him stand up. "Lean on me. I'll help you get there," she suggested.
*I don't need your help,* Jono growled, and pushed her off as he strode forward.
Paige rolled her eyes and counted the seconds, getting down to "one" just as Jono stumbled again and hit the floor. Paige walked up and pulled him to his feet. "What was that about not needing help?" she asked.
Jono's shoulders sagged as her little jab hit home. *Sorry,* he "said" quietly. Paige decided to be gracious this time, forgave him and guided Jono to the boys' dorm basement. *What were you doing outside the gym, anyway?* Jonothon queried.
"I wanted to ask if Mr. Cassidy and Ms. Frost would let the team go to the movies tonight," Paige responded. "But they were so busy with you, I didn't want to interrupt."
*I wish you had.*
They descended into the gloom of the basement, pushed aside the curtain separating Jono's bedroom from the rest of the place and entered. Jonothon gratefully collapsed on the bed. "Will you be okay?" Paige asked, strangely reluctant to leave.
*I'll be fine.... Just gotta sleep,* Jono answered in a murmur.
"Well.... Okay. See you later," Paige said by way of parting, exiting the room behind her.
Jonothon fell asleep almost instantly, vaguely wondering if he would dream of Paige again.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
He is wearing out. Tonight will be his undoing….
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
7:15 at night....
"Are you sure you don't want to come to the movies with us, Jono?" Paige was saying as Gen X congregated at the main door, getting ready to leave.
*I wouldn't enjoy "Galaxy Quest",* Jono replied, leaning against the wall as he watched his friends.
Of course not. It's a funny movie and you're more depressed than a Prozac addict in withdrawal. Paige shoved aside the thought, sidled a little closer and pitched her voice lower. "Will you be all right?" she questioned.
*Why are you so worried? Of course I'll be all right,* Jonothon projected, a little coldly.
Paige was reassured -if a bit put out- as she left with the rest of the team, closing the door behind her.
Jono spun on his heel and strode down to the basement again. There, he slumped on the old couch and zoned out in front of the telly, restlessly channel-surfing even as he rapidly grew tired of the activity. Finally he threw aside the remote and stalked out of the basement, pacing around the dorms, bored and unsettled. Much was preying on his mind.
Suddenly he heard a loud crash! in the kitchen. Jonothon bolted to the place, bandages off and his power blazing, ready to fight. He bellowed, *ALL RIGHT! WHO THE HELL'S IN HE-"
Penance was sitting on the floor, shaking her head as if she were dazed. A chair was overturned and pieces of a sandwich were scattered about. Penny looked up at Jono with a helpless "I tripped" expression.
Jono sagged against the doorway, feeling mad and relieved simultaneously. I can't believe I'm becoming so bloody paranoid, he thought grumpily. *Penance.... Don't scare me like that,* he scolded.
Penance threw up her hands in an exasperated "Well, excuse me!" gesture, got to her feet and started cleaning up the mess. Jono felt himself soften. *Sorry, Penny,* he projected, and helped her clean up. Penance VERY gently patted him on the shoulder in thanks and forgiveness, and made another sandwich as Jono wandered off.
His wanderings took him outside; he stared at the moon, the woods, the stars. *Who are you?* Jonothon broadcast into the night without thinking. *What do you want from me? Why are you playing with my head?*
The whine of the wind was the only answer. Jonothon heaved a sigh as best he could and trudged back inside to his basement, his mood becoming darker than all his black clothing put together.
He was brooding on the couch, trying to figure out ways to stay awake when the rest of the cheerful, chipper team came back, talking excitedly about their night and nagging the teachers to plan another. Sean called down the basement stairs that they had returned; Jono sent back a short acknowledgment and went to lie down on his bed and listen to some music.
It was about one in the morning when much to his dismay, he fell asleep, as hard as he tried not to.
"What do you want, Jonothon?" someone called. All the objects of his dreams shot by him, hovering in front of him for a minute before zipping away, only to return and fly away again. "What do you want the most?"
"I want it all, dammit! I want it all back!" Jonothon screamed, frantically trying to snatch something, anything. "I want my face, I want my music, I want to be human again!" Paige's image stood in front of Jonothon, and he desperately grabbed for her. "I want Paige to love me. I need her!" he sobbed as she slid through his fingertips.
"You will have her. You will have everything I have promised you thus far," the woman soothed. "But you must come to me...."
The woods surrounding the campus flashed through his mind.... an old, diphilated church.... a slim, powerful woman with flashing black eyes, waiting for him.....
"COME!"
Jonothon snapped to consciousness, scrambling upright as he fell out of bed, frantically snatching at the blankets in hopes of pulling himself back up. He hit the worn red rug and rolled, becoming tangled in the sheets. Furiously he shot off a blast as narrow as a pencil, slicing his way out. Then he climbed his feet and punched the wall with a roar of rage. Who was this woman? Why was the church only now appearing in his mind? How did he know where it was? And how did this woman know about his most secret desires? Why did she persist in asking for his help? AHH!
Enough was enough. Jonothon had to go to the old church and confront the one who tormented him in his unguarded sleep. Swiftly he re-knotted his bandages, dressed, then snuck out the boys' dorm door and took off, running as fast as he could.
Jono had to stop and ease the burning of his muscles three times before he finally reached the house of worship. Angrily he strode through the rotting doors and stomped over the worn slats of the floor, looking about for his advisary.
"Up the stairs, Jonothon," a feminine voice called. He threw a glance to his right and noticed the stairs leading up into a loft of sorts. Jono ran up them, smacking open the door in the ceiling and leaping into the loft beyond.
Pale, bright moonlight spread across a wall in front of him. A slim lady floating three feet off the floor in the lotus position was silhouetted against the silvery splash. "Welcome, Jonothon," she greeted, unfolding her legs and landing without a sound. "I have been waiting for you."
*Who the hell are you?* Jonothon demanded. *Why've you been manipulating my dreams?*
"It was the only way to get you here," the lady replied. "It worked, didn't it?"
Jonothon paused. The lady had a point. *Who are you?* he asked again.
"I am called Deiva," she answered, stepping into view. She was slim and nicely shaped, clad in white silk slacks; black, heeled boots and a tight black silk V-neck shirt that showed a hint of cleavage. Her eyes and hair were black, her lips red and twisted in a small, sweet smile. Her skin was weirdly pale and appeared to glow under the moon's light. Everything about her radiated sensuality and innocence.
Jonothon wasn't impressed or fooled. *Why did you want me to come?* he insisted.
"I wanted to talk to you, so I urged you to come here."
*What?*
"I have the power to make people act on their impulses, or to control them with their dreams," Deiva said.
That explained a lot. *What do you want from me?*
Deiva smiled broadly, as if those were the very words she'd been waiting to hear. "I want to make a bargain with you, Jonothon," she responded. "You have something I need, and I can give you what you want most."
*And what would that be?*
Deiva's smile grew. "Everything you've ever dreamed of," she said. "There are a few things I must explain before I go on," she added as she saw Jono's confusion. "I am a breed of vampire."
*A WHAT?!* Jono cried, assuming a defensive stance.
"Oh, step off, Starsmore. I don't bite unless I am extremely hungry," Deiva snapped. "Before you grab a silly little wooden stake, let me finish what I must tell you!"
Jonothon forced himself to calm down, feeling certain Deiva was manipulating that impulse, too.
"My blood has an incredibly potent healing and regeneration factor," Deiva continued. "Watch." She lifted a delicate, long-nailed hand, and cut the flesh of her arm deeply. It bled for a second, then sealed up and disappeared completely. "If my blood was placed in the system of someone like you, for instance, it would run through your body, enhance its power and heal it completely," Deiva finished, wiping the blood off.
Jonothon was stunned by what he had seen and by Deiva's words. *You mean.... I could be-*
"Whole," Deiva finished. She left him take that statement in before going on. "If I heal you, all I ask for in return is to drink some of your blood."
*Why?*
Deiva's eyes hardened slightly. "To a vampire, blood holds power, for life is largely based on it. The more you drink, the more powerful you become. Your blood could be extremely powerful. I need that power. It would flow through me and heighten what little psychic talent I have now, and allow me to take the place in my Clan that was stolen from me." She seemed to calm down. "I have a transfusion kit with me now. So? What do you say? Is it a deal?" she inquired, holding out her hand.
Jonothon was hopelessly torn. This woman offered him what he longed for most.... but what if she used the power she would gain for evil? He would probably be wholly responsible for what happened if she used her power for vile ends. But he wanted, needed this healing she offered.... Was he sure this was worth the risk? *I.... I need time,* he finally "whispered".
"Not afraid, are you?" Deiva needled.
*No! Just.... Let me think about this.... please.*
Deiva nodded understandingly. "I will," she promised. "I will be waiting here when your decision is made." She turned and stepped into the shadows again. "Go now, Jonothon. You have a busy day tomorrow," she said, jumping into the air and floating there in the lotus position.
Jonothon crept back down the stairs and closed the door behind him, his head spinning with uncertainty.
Deiva grinned deviously once he was gone. "He'll go for it," she announced to the night at large. "I won't even have to manipulate his impulses."
Jonothon kept his mind on the choice he had been given as he paced back home, mentally weighing the pros and cons of the healing.
The pros: He would be normal-looking again. No one would ever call him a "freak". He wouldn't have to hide from the world. He could go out in public without slinking around on the fringes. He would be able to sing -maybe pursue a music career-, to eat, smile and breathe, all those things everyone else took for granted. He could -just maybe- have a chance with Paige. He would feel good about himself. His power would grow. And to finish the list, he would be doing Deiva a favor.
The cons: How would the others react if he suddenly showed up looking normal? Would they accept the explanation, or would they hunt Deiva down and stake her? Could he really trust Deiva? Would he be able to handle his enhanced power? Was Deiva even telling the truth? Was all this danger worth it?
Jonothon suddenly reversed direction. He'd made up his mind. Forget the danger: He wanted this more than anything else.
Deiva was awaiting him in the loft, still floating in the lotus position. "Back so soon? Have you chosen?" she inquired.
*Yes.*
"What is your decision?" she asked gently as Jono entered the place.
Jono answered, *I want to be whole again.*
Hook, line, sinker, however cliché that may be, Deiva thought smugly. She got down from the air and walked casually over. "Then we have a deal? I heal you, you let me drink your blood?" she inquired.
*Yes.*
Deiva beamed. "Good. Take off your jacket," she ordered, picking up a transfusion kit from somewhere in the shadows. Jonothon obeyed and set the jacket aside. Then Deiva took his right arm, holding it inner-side up and pushing the transfusion needle into his arm. Then she attached herself to the tubing and relaxed. The blood gushed into Jono's blood vessels, pulsing hotly with life. Aw, that felt so damn great!
Many minutes passed. Deiva was feeling light-headed. She wondered how much longer the healing was going to take, how much more blood she had to give. Jono didn't really notice when she pulled on the bandages and took a peek: The healing was almost complete. She grinned. "Almost finished, Jonothon," she reported.
*So.... tight,* he moaned.
"Excuse me?"
*Bandages.... too tight. Can't.... breathe.*
Deiva slit the cloths with a long nail. The strips fluttered open and hung slackly around Jono's chest. Jonothon gasped, breathing heavily and erratically. *Th-thanks,* he "said", the mental speech coming easier. *I've.... forgotten how.... to breathe.*
Suddenly Deiva's blood stopped flowing into Jono. Deiva pulled the transfusion tubing away and licked the blood off. Jonothon saw the hole in her arm seal up and fade. Then Deiva took his arm, wiped it off and sucked her fingers clean as his wound closed. Miniature explosions danced on Deiva's tongue; she knew it was power. "Your healing is complete. My turn," she declared.
*Are you going to bite me on the neck?* Jono asked nervously as he tried to comprehend the fact he was whole.
"Yes."
*Will it hurt?*
"No. You'll like it very much," Deiva replied with a small grin, and stepped so close her chest pressed against his. Gently she pushed his head to the right and smoothed his hair away, looping an arm around his back and holding on while resting her other hand on his shoulder. Then she bared her two-inch long fangs and punched them into the place where his neck curved into his shoulder. Jonothon cringed.
Deiva withdrew, retracted her teeth and sucked hard on the wounds she had inflicted. Tangy blood poured into her mouth and down her throat. Already she could feel her power start to respond to the mutant's blood. She sucked harder, wanting more, but trying not to collapse a vessel from the pressure.
For Jono, the bloodsucking was like someone caressing him from the inside out.... with the tips of the sharpest, finest razor blades. Not that it hurt. It felt good. More than good. He just couldn't find the right word to describe the sensation.
Deiva drank for a long time. Jonothon began to feel dizzy. Just when he thought he was going to pass out, Deiva let his neck go and licked the holes clean, watching in satisfaction as they healed. "I'm finished," she announced.
*Good. Maybe now.... you can tell me why.... I feel like I'm.... floating a meter off.... the ground,* Jonothon murmured laboriously.
Deiva looked down and her eyes grew wide. "Because we are," she proclaimed.
Jono passed out. Deiva hovered and tightened her grip on Jono as he went limp in her arms, so he wouldn't crash to the floor and take her with him. Carefully, she laid him on the dusty slats and flew out the window that led to the outdoors.
She was flying. Yes, she could levitate herself, but not fly. It was magnificent! But not nearly as magnificent as the nearly uncontainable power coursing through her. "I can't believe I got away with this!" she crowed, flying faster. "The power is so unbelievable!" she shouted in ecstasy to the stars. "I'll be on the Council of Elders…. No, I'll be the Elder Leader!"
The rest of the flight home was blurred by her joy, but it mattered not. She reached the outskirts of Boston and landed near an old warehouse; the one where her Clan spent their days. A very old, very strong vampire was guarding the entrance. Deiva strolled up to him. "Hello Jahvis," she greeted sweetly.
Jahvis glared at her as he recognized her. "Get lost, you little manata!" he yelled, using a vampric insult.
Deiva nailed his eyes with hers. "Die," she commanded on a whim.
Jahvis' eyes bugged out and he seemed to be choking, then his jaw fell slack and he crumpled to the ground, dead. Deiva giggled in delight and walked on in, making her way to the Council Room.
Inside, the Elders were discussing rivalries between the different clans, and what the heck they were going to do about the half-human slayer called Blade. Deiva could hear their chatter through the thick rowan-wood doors that sealed the Room off from the rest of the warehouse. She stared at the doors, wondering if she could command them to open like she had commanded Jahvis to expire.
It was worth a shot. "Explode," she commanded.
The six inch-thick doors shattered, blowing splinters, dust and large chunks of wood into the Room. The Elders cried out in fear and hastily ducked behind their chairs.
The Elder Leader stood as the wood stopped flying. "What is the meaning of this?" he roared. His eyes were drawn to the doorway where Deiva stood, stunned by her power. "You! You are not welcome here!" the Elder yelled.
"Why?" Deiva asked with false innocence. "I have every right to live with the Clan I was adopted into."
"You committed the crime of killing the one who Embraced you, simply because you wanted her power, because you wanted her place on the Council. You thought you were being strong, but that is weakness. We have no place in the Clan for someone like you," the Elder spat. "We were wrong to offer you our Embrace; you went insane as we did. And only the strong shall lead."
Deiva strode into the room, eyes gleaming a malicious, fiery red. "But Elder, now I have more power than all the strongest of this Clan put together," she announced, meeting his eyes with a steely glare. "'Only the strong shall lead'," she quoted mockingly. Her eyes blazed. "Feel my power," Deiva commanded as the leader felt his synapses slowly start to percolate. "Feel my power.... and die!" she snarled, and fired all his synapses at once, literally and violently frying his brain. With a choked gasp, the leader Elder keeled over and slumped onto the Council table, eyes rolling back in his head. Deiva laughed, the sound resounding off the thick walls and crashing on sensitive hearing. Then she raked the remaining Elders with her glare as they cowered. "Who is strongest?" she demanded, willing them to say-
"You are!" they cried as one.
"Who has the right to lead?"
"You!"
Deiva grinned. "Good. Awaken the rest of the Clan," she ordered, walking over to the dead Elder and picking him off the floor with ease. "Tell them about the change of command." The others were frozen to the spot. "Go! Leave me," Deiva barked. "I wish to feast in private."
The Elders scurried out of the room. With a thought, Deiva made all the broken wood reform into doors again and sank her teeth into the Elder to take his blood and power, too.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*
Jonothon's lashes flickered as sunlight did a tango across his lids. Funny: He couldn't recall how he'd gotten outside. Then he remembered. Remembered Deiva and the draining of his blood.
Blood?
Yes, blood. And he had a face, a chest, a heart and a pulse, lungs and breath. And more than that: Colors and shapes seemed to be intensified, textures were more apparent and his sense of touch seemed heightened, not to mention his hearing was better than it was. He drew a deep breath through his nose, and smelled dust, wood, cobwebs and even termites. Jonothon suddenly figured it out. Deiva's blood had done more than just heal him: It had enhanced his senses, just as she promised! Jonothon inhaled deeply again, delighting in this simple act.
Abruptly he remembered he had to get home. No prob. He'd run the whole way.
Jonothon bounced to his feet, grabbed his jacket and pulled it on, feeling more energized than he ever had. He dashed down the steps and out the church door, racing through the grass and woods. As he reached a clearing, the impact of what had happened hit him full force.
HE WAS HEALED!
Jonothon skidded to a halt and threw his arms open wide, as if to embrace the entire world, and started spinning crazily in a circle, laughing hard and loud. The sound -harsh at first and then getting smoother, clearer and louder- rang sharply through the trees, bouncing off the bark and echoing. At last, giddily dizzy, Jono collapsed onto the soft earth, still laughing in joy. Finally it died in his throat.
"I'm whole. I'm WHOLE!"
TO BE CONTINUED IN Dark Dreams: Blood
