Alys B. Cohen
Sacred Blood
~~~
Vancouver Independent Publishing
Publisher Information
Text copyright © 2013 by Alys B. Cohen
Illustration copyright © by Alys B. Cohen
All rights reserved.
No part of this work may be reproduced, photocopied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded or transmitted, in any form or by any other means, without prior written permission of the copyright publisher, except as allowable under the Copyright Act 1968.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents, are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental. For information regarding permission, write to:
Vancouver Independent Publishing
(USA) PO Box 17253, Portland, Oregon 97217
[email protected] Cohen, Alys B.
Sacred Blood / by Alys B. Cohen
Prequel to: Sacred Honor
Summary: Battered and frightened, Juliette St. Claire flees from near-death at the crushing hands of her boyfriend, to find her closest friend, Tristan Larocque, only to discover he has kept a vital secret about his identity.
Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9920729-0-2
E-book ISBN: 978-0-9920729-1-9
First Edition
Cover image and design by: Alys B. Cohen
Dedication
This book is dedicated to those who have found their own inner strength, and to those still searching.
Note From the Author
This book has its moments of humor. It also has its moments of sadness, and some frightening situations that may be triggering to some readers. I feel warning for the potential triggering content is appropriate. Yes, this could be a bit of a spoiler, but for the sake of those who are living with the trauma of experience, I have opted to give this information up front.
I was inspired by the abuse-as-romance trend that has permeated our culture in such sly ways that many have yet to identify it, and the need for books that show abuse for what it is. In Sacred Blood, the abuse is not romantic. It is not swept under the rug or glossed over. Juliette’s experiences at the hands of her boyfriend and his best friend are traumatic to her, as they would be to anyone who went through them. She endured physical and sexual abuse, and has to work to rise above it.
If you have survived abuse, or are living with it now, my heart goes out to you. May you find and hold onto the inner strength that every person surviving it has.
~Alys B. Cohen
Table of Contents
1. Juliette
2. Tristan
3. Worth
4. Wishes
5. Beginnings
6. Targets
7. Loss: Tristan
8. Loss: Juliette
9. Escape
10. Ojai
11. Discoveries
12. Return
13. Entanglement
14. Truth
15. Plans
16. Travel
17. Exploration
18. Pursuit
19. Found
20. Revelation
21. Strategy
22. Trepidation
23. Bloodshed
24. Domination
25. Restoration
26. Decision
Epilogue
Credits
1. Juliette
A shadow darkened the door’s frosted glass. From her seat on the soft, carpeted stair, Juliette St. Clair laced her fingers together and tightened them, staring straight ahead. The knob turned and the door swung open. She exhaled, relieved. For once he didn’t appear angry as he looked at her.
Nathaniel Jensen smirked, his chestnut eyebrows raised, and began his usual interrogating. “Hey, Cutie, why are you sitting there? Were you waiting for me? Why’s the kitchen radio on?”
Juliette patted her history textbook beside her. Her heart rate increased as she thought about how he might react to her request. “Well, in class we were assigned to study groups, and we have to get together and have a report to present Thursday. A-At three today is the only time everyone’s free. I need to go. It’s important.”
“Will there be any guys?” Nathaniel narrowed his eyes and glowered down at his girlfriend. He balled his hands into fists.
Juliette pulled her arms tighter to her sides and laced her fingers over her heart. Should I lie? No, he’d know. “Yes, a few, and some girls too.”
“Then no.”
“But I have to go! It’s ten percent! Please!” Juliette picked up her class schedule and held the page up to him, already overwhelmed by guilt if Nathaniel refused. “Why are you still paying for me to go to school if you’re going to stop me from doing the assignments? Please let me.” Fearing defeat, her shoulders and face fell.
Nathaniel snatched the paper and studied it. “Where?”
Juliette removed a sticky note from her book cover and glanced at the address. Her gaze wandered up, trying to read his expression. The man rarely changed his mind once he’d said no. Silently she begged him, hoping his amber eyes would stare into her baby blues and recognize her desperation. “Please? Getting A’s is important to me.”
“Whose place?”
“A classmate named Tristan, but there will be just as many girls as guys.”
Silence stretched between them. Juliette’s shoulders fell. Her eyes dropped to the red Spanish tile beneath Nathaniel’s feet. Strains of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons played quietly through the house. She closed her eyelids and focused on the chords to keep from crying in frustration.
The song inspired her, and she immediately knew she could turn the situation in her favor. Nathaniel wanted the world to see him as the good guy he wasn’t. “How would you like me to explain to them why I couldn’t make it when I already said I’d be there?”
Keys jingled in Nathaniel’s hands. “It’s quarter to three. I’ll pick you up at five sharp. If any of the guys touch you, there’s going to be hell to pay.”
“Thank you, and don’t worry. No one will put their hands on me. I don’t think anyone around here doesn’t know I’m yours.” Juliette grabbed her book and stood with a small measure of pride, choosing to not reply to his threat. She had won this battle.
Silently she followed him to his car and slid onto the passenger seat. During the drive she stared out the window. While watching houses breeze by she wondered what it must be like to live in one of them and never worry about Nathaniel following through on the threats he made... or having to have to outsmart him when he made them.
Nathaniel turned up a long, circular driveway and whistled in awe. Juliette’s eyes darted around the large property with its expansive, well-manicured yard. Someone had clipped each shrub into spirals and topiaries. They paled in comparison to the stately white house with its Grecian columns.
“Five sharp, Jules. You need to pack my bags when you get back. I’m leaving for training camp at seven. Be gone a couple weeks.”
“Okay,” she whispered, surprised he had a trip planned that he had not told her about. “Thanks for bringing me.”
Juliette stepped out of the car and took slow steps up the stairs. She raised a fist and knocked. Behind her, the car’s engine purred. From within the house stamping footsteps grew louder until the door opened. A chestnut-haired man appeared and his smile quickly turned to a frown. He stepped aside and motioned her in.
“Who are you?” he asked, his voice tense.
“Juliette St. Claire.”
The man’s eyes widened. He jerked his head toward voices in another room. “Through that door.” Without waiting for a reply, he turned and ran up a wide staircas
e.
Baffled by the stranger’s behavior, Juliette did not look around, but walked where he had pointed, her stomach tied in knots. Amanda and Sandra sat to the left of a man with near-shoulder-length mahogany waves at the dark oval table while David and Lars relaxed to his right, a seat separating them from their host. Sandra laughed at something the stranger said, and as she threw her head back, spotted Juliette.
“Oh hey, girl! We were waiting for you. Why don’t you sit down?”
Juliette nodded and rushed to take the open seat to the man’s right.
He grinned at her. “You must be Juliette. I’m Tristan Larocque.”
Biting her lip, Juliette glanced up to his handsome, tanned face with his deep blue eyes staring at her. He reached his hand to shake hers. With a shy nod, she looked back down, embarrassed by the attention.
“I’m sorry I had to leave before you got to class today. At least someone got the address to you. I hope meeting here doesn’t pose any trouble.”
Juliette shook her head, wishing he’d stop talking to her. A man as attractive as he surely couldn’t be so kind.
David snorted from her right. “You’d better take your hand back. No one’s allowed to touch Jensen’s girl. Frankly, you’d be lucky if she even talks to you.”
“Who’s Jensen?”
“Nate Jensen. One of the football players,” Amanda said with a sigh. “She’s so lucky to be dating that guy. She’s practically a kid.”
“I’m eighteen!”
“Well, still young for a junior. Shouldn’t you be in high school?”
Juliette narrowed her eyes. “I graduated when I was sixteen. I’ll bet you were learning to read or do basic math at that age.”
Tristan raised his hands. “Come on, let’s not fight. We have a real easy project to do here and should not spend this time bickering. All we have to do is a basic history of Vlad the Impaler. Can we cooperate long enough to get through this?”
Juliette clicked a pen, waiting for the opportunity to speak. David and Lars repeatedly spoke over her when she started to say anything. So she stopped trying and just took notes. A couple times she glanced up at Tristan and the clock above him. He stared back at her each time, his blue eyes kind, a soft smile playing on his lips. The ease she felt next to him unsettled her. Discussion finished, Tristan closed his textbook and pushed it away.
“Why are you ignoring Juliette like that?” Sandra asked David. “She tried giving information and she really knows a lot about this stuff.”
Eyes avoiding Juliette’s, David laughed. “Because I’m not going to get on Nate’s bad side.”
Tristan glanced at Juliette, then at David. “What do you mean, ‘Nate’s bad side’?”
“Star player’s girl? Be all improper and talk to her, and your rep’s trash. Bros before hos.” David and Lars bumped fists.
Juliette took a deep breath and clenched her pen. “Shut up, David. What would you know about dating at all?”
Sandra stared at Juliette. “I’d give anything to date Nate Jensen, even for a night. How did you bag such a hottie?”
Juliette’s cheeks warmed. “Sorry, no offense, but I’m not comfortable with my personal life being the topic of conversation. I’m just here to get a good grade, not to gossip about myself and Nathaniel.”
“Why not? Every girl with any sense is jealous of you.”
Tristan spared Juliette from having to answer. “Come on, you guys, stop, and, Dave, I don’t want you calling anyone a ‘ho’ in my house again, or you’ll have to leave.”
“But--”
“No.”
Juliette gazed up at Tristan. Without meaning to, she flashed him a smile and glanced at the clock again.
“I have to leave,” she told Tristan while stacking her things. “My ride’s going to be here soon. I really should wait outside.”
“I’ll go with you.”
With her books in her arms, Juliette turned her back on their classmates, noting Tristan didn’t address them on his way out.
“Those people are jerks,” he told her as they stood by the door. “Good for you standing up for yourself in there.”
Juliette shrugged. “It’s normal. Guys don’t want anything to do with a football player’s girlfriend and other girls are jealous and want to hear all about him. Most people just ignore me.”
“Would you have any objection if I talked to you?”
“As long as Nathaniel’s not around.”
Tristan raised one eyebrow. “One of those possessive guys,” he said dryly.
“Yes, but I guess he’s got to guard what’s his.” Juliette hugged her books to her chest and sighed.
“Well, will he let me be your friend?”
“Definitely not. Anyway, why would you want to be?”
“Anyone who’s bullied is probably an interesting person. You snapped back at them like a spitfire. I can tell you’re smart, even though Dave and Lars wouldn’t let you say much. Self-defense and intelligence are admirable qualities that I appreciate.”
Juliette lifted her chin and stared straight into his eyes, upset with herself for misjudging him. “I’d like us to be friends then, but it can only be in class, and Nathaniel can’t find out. By the way, thanks for being nice to me and having my back in there.”
Tristan half smiled and shook his head. “Don’t thank me for that. You shouldn’t have to express gratitude over someone not acting like a jerk. If I can be your friend only in class for now, I’ll take it. That gives us four days a week. History and lit.”
“Thank--...Okay. I’d appreciate that. Usually I’m shy talking, directly with a guy I don’t know. But there’s something different about you.” Butterflies fluttered in Juliette’s stomach at his sincere and easy charm. She realized that he avoided Nathaniel’s name. Her face burned as her thoughts returned to the man in front of her. “Anyway I’m surprised you paid any attention to me in lit. I sit behind you.”
“You’re cute when you blush.” Tristan shoved his hands in his pockets like a shy schoolboy.
Juliette’s jaw dropped in pleasant surprise as she tried thinking of an appropriate response to the flattery. “Tristan! I do have a, um...” Her smile faltered.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered bashfully. “The words I spoke should have stayed in my head. It’s not like me to do that.”
“I don’t get compliments much, so I’m not sure what to say. Um--”
A horn honked. Juliette’s eyes widened and she peered through a window. “Oh, shoot! I was supposed to be outside waiting. He’s going to be so mad. I’ll see you in lit tomorrow night!” She yanked the door open and ran out. Nathaniel’s furious face stopped her a few feet away. Her body trembled. Juliette glanced back toward the house as she tried to calm her short breaths. Her shoes felt heavy as lead as she closed the distance and slid into the seat and buckled her belt.
Without looking at her, Nathaniel’s nostrils flared as he shifted his coupe into drive and peeled out.
* * *
Nathaniel yanked Juliette out of the car, his mouth in a hard line. Once inside he tossed her to the floor. Juliette pressed her hands to the cold tile. Without warning, a hand pulled her back up by her golden hair and his other slammed into her face. She dropped to the ground again and curled into a ball, one of her palms covering the painful throbbing around her eye and cheek.
“I said outside by five, not five-oh-one!”
“I’m sorry,” she gasped, struggling to hold in the tears that would make him angrier. “It was an accident. I was only a minute.”
One of his feet connected with her left shoulder. She screamed in shock at the sharp pain. As she tried to push herself up, her arm locked up and she fell. Careful to use only her right hand, she pushed up again and stood.
“I’m so sorry. I’m--”
“Wasting time. Pack my stuff!”
Frantic, Juliette fled up the stairs to Nathaniel’s room and folded and packed football gear. Every movement in her shoulder burne
d her socket. She gasped, trying to keep half her body as immobile as she could. His favorite practice jersey was still in the dryer. She lifted the heavy bag with her uninjured arm and downstairs to retrieve his shirt, hoping he would be lenient that she hadn’t yet finished.
"Hurry up, Stupid! I have to take off. Get my bags packed up!" Nathaniel ripped the bag from Juliette as she hurried past him and slugged her stomach, smirking at her shocked scream as she crashed into the cream wall and slunk to the ground. A porcelain vase fell from its pedestal, dousing her in cold water as it shattered. He grabbed her arms, loudly popping her shoulder back into place, and turned her to face the hallway mirror. "Do you like your eye? Do you want another?"
Juliette stared at the newest bruise darkening her eye. She nodded and shook her head in turn to his questions, longing to get away from the hands hurting her. Those hands spun her around and slapped her across the face.
"You didn't answer me! Did you like your ugly eye, and do you want your other to match?"
"N-n-no, Sir!" She wanted nothing more than for him to let go. His fingers digging into her flesh were bruising her, and her punched arm and dislocated shoulder hurt like hell.
Juliette’s side slammed into the wall again with another malicious throw.
"Learn to listen to what I tell you. Now hurry up and finish or you'll get worse!"
Despite her injures, Juliette ran as fast as she could, continuing to gather and loading his gear, glad he was going to be gone for a couple weeks and she'd have several days to sleep in peace and recover. The thought of his absence motivated her to keep standing.
With a last zip, Juliette finished the packing. Nathaniel snatched his duffel bag up and pressed a finger hard against her chest. "Clean up the hall before the housekeeper gets here. You better be good. Break any rules and I will find out. Stay inside until you look normal and no school. Sorry about your eye, but you pushed me to my limit. I don’t know why you make me hurt you. You know I have a temper."
The wet kiss smashed to her lips sent deep ache to Juliette's heart, tempered only slightly by him walking out of the house. When she was certain he wouldn't walk back in, she ran up the stairs and slammed her bedroom door shut. Hopeless, her trembling body dropped to the bed.