Bloodline (Paranormal Romance, Dark & Twisted) Saving Demons Series Book 1

Sean drove me home in his silver Cadillac. He didn't say a word to me the entire way there. It was a long drive down a slithering road that bordered Whisper Forest. But the silence was fine by me. There was a lot going on inside my head. I needed some time to think, to try to put some of the pieces together. But with still so many pieces missing, the puzzle wasn't fitting together yet.

  Sean escorted me to the door of my house. I said goodbye and turned to go inside when suddenly he grabbed me by the elbow and pulled me roughly back to him. He pinned me to the wall next to the door. His fingers curled around my neck and his face appeared directly in front of mine.

  "Remember," he whispered. His nostrils spread just slightly and he closed his eyes, breathing in deeply.

  My breath hitched in my throat. It had gotten stuck where his fingers had curled around me.

  Sean opened his eyes and looked at me. The brilliant copper color that laced the Sapphire of his irises made him look inhuman.

  "I will not tolerate you speaking to Dammon. Or anyone, for that matter. Do you understand me?" Sean's fingers tightened around my throat. My hands instinctively went to his. I tried to pry his fingers loose, but it only caused him to squeeze my throat even harder.

  "Answer me when I speak to you, Little One," he said. His tone was calm and casual, but the ice was there. The danger. The threat.

  The promise.

  "I understand," I choked out the words.

  "Good girl. Now remove your hands from mine. I did not give you permission to touch me."

  I quickly dropped my hands. I could barely breathe. I was well aware of the fact that Sean could crush my neck with an effortless squeeze or simply hold me like this for a little while longer until I suffocated.

  Sean loosened his grip on my throat. I dragged in a breath. With his fingers still curled around my neck, he covered my mouth with his. He kissed me hard on the lips. It was not sweet like the last kiss. It was cruel and punishing. And it was not over quick enough.

  "I will be back for you tonight," he said. Then he let go of my neck, giving me a little sideways push that sent me stumbling clumsily into the doorway. I did not watch Sean leave. I was stunned by his unexpected attack and felt a little disoriented. I caught a glimpse of Dammon, who was standing on his deck, before I slammed the door shut behind me.

  As the shock quickly wore off and an instant replay went off in my mind, I felt compelled to run after Sean and punch him in the nose or something. But I heard his car drive away and knew it was too late for retaliation.

  It was not like me to stand there and simply take it. It used to be. I was taught how to do that. Taught that if I was a quiet, good little girl, I would endure less pain. But after Barron hung me from the cross, I broke. I changed. Something inside of me --the demons perhaps-- rose up from that dark and spooky place inside me and changed my life forever. I had made a vow that I would always fight back. Always, no matter the cost

  But it happened so fast. Sean was quick. He attacked me before I even saw it coming. I didn't even sense it coming. And usually I sensed stuff like that. I had to. It was one of the my many survival techniques I had learned over the years.

  There would be a next time, though. I was confident about this. And next time I would show him that I might be a little one, but dynamite comes in small packages.

  I was growing more and more agitated by the moment. I slammed my bedroom door and started dumping boxes out onto the floor, not realizing what I was looking for until I recognized the dire need to write. I knew I hadn't stuffed my journal into one of the boxes. I knew I'd lost it in the park somewhere, but desperation drove me to looking for it anyway. I shuffled through the small mountain of my belongings on the floor, but didn't find the little black notebook anywhere.

  And my frustrations were growing.

  I slammed the door on my way out of my room then slammed the door to the trailer on my way out of the house. In a tantrum, I stomped through the grass to the rear of the yard then threw open the metal slider-door to the steel shed. Sure, I cared about having lost my journal, but I was beyond the point where writing would do anything to improve my mood now.

  I needed speed.

  Lots of speed.

  The forty-one Knucklehead Harley Davidson twinkled in the light of the sun, giving me a purple wink, letting me know that she missed me too. I straddled her and then lifted her up off the kick-stand. I hadn't forgotten that Addy had grounded me from my bike until she saw an improvement in my attitude. I usually respected her, no matter how ignorant she was. But I just didn't care at the moment. And Addy was never going to see improvement in my attitude, even if it was possible that I could improve it.

  It was slightly uncomfortable, but I kicked the Harley to life with my bare foot, thankful that she was so willing to start, so willing to fly with me. I about cried happy tears when she rumbled loudly and her body reverberated through mine. She purred like a lion. I cranked my wrist, and she growled like a beast. There was just no turning back now. Addy would just have to deal with it.

  I took off out of the shed like I had a rocket in my pocket. My back tire peeled up grass when I took the turn sideways coming out of the yard and onto the gravel street of the trailer park. I flew down the road, leaving a giant plume of dust behind me. Wind combed wildly through my hair. Trailer houses zipped past me in my peripheral vision. Once I turned left onto the pavement and was on the Highway, I was able to open her up. I flew down the road, heading east so fast that it was hard to keep my eyes open. The wind tried to lick them closed and they watered continuously.

  But it was at this crazy speed where I was always able to calm myself down.

  Sean's behavior toward me and the fact that I felt so restrained in my response to his actions bothered me quite deeply.

  I was a fighter.

  I always have been.

  I always will be.

  I wanted to fight back when Sean bullied me around. But in each situation I found myself incapable of fighting back. What was I to do when his fingers gripped my neck? What was I to do when he punched me in the side of the head and knocked me out cold? What was I to do when he drugged me and bound me to a table? Sean was so strong that I had no doubt he could damage me severely with just one hand. He'd barely have to put any effort into it. Heck, he could probably damage me severely without any hands. He could probably just look at me and hurt me. Like he made the door close, the window close, the lantern come to life, the chair move all on its own. Just by wanting these things to happen, Sean was capable of making these things happen.

  On the outskirts of Burling, Highway Nine was a long stretch of road that went on for miles and mile with nothing but cornfields on one side and sunflower fields on the other The land was flatter than Addy's attempt at pancakes. I longed for something more challenging, like a mountain road with all of its glorious, sharp twists and turns. But for now, the simplicity of the wind whistling through my toes and whipping in my hair would just have to do.

  And it did. It helped me to calm down. Even if it was only a little bit.

  But I had to go back. I should have respected Addy's wishes and not have even gone.

  I was very relieved when I got back to the trailer park and saw that Addy's blue Volvo was not parked at the curb.

  But I was not so excited when I saw the mess I'd made of the lawn. Addy would probably notice the tire tracks and the tore-up grass. I was as good as busted. Addy was going to find out I went for a little joy-ride after she specifically told me not to.

  Freak!

  As difficult as it was, I managed to close my bike back inside the metal shed.

  In the dark.

  All alone.

  I understood how she felt, being in the darkness all alone. Except, I wasn't really alone in my darkness. I had company. I had evil companionship. Which made my aloneness even fuller and more defined.

  I turned around to go back to my house when I saw a figure standing in my yard on top of the scar that I
'd left in the grass. I was startled at first, thinking it was Addy for a split second.

  Then I realized that it was Dammon.

  Sadness flooded through me. I had totally forgotten about his existence. And seeing him now, remembering his music, his breeze through my leaves, how wonderful I felt in his company, How safe he was, saddened me deeply.

  How could have I forgotten about him?

  The answer to that question really didn't matter, though. I couldn't see him any more. I had to tell him goodbye, even though we'd barely gotten the chance to say hello.

  And I didn't like this. It didn't feel right.

  "I'm not supposed to talk to you, remember?" I said grudgingly. I knew it wasn't his fault, but I couldn't seem to keep my frustration hidden.

  Before he could say anything, before the music of his voice could drift me away, before I could rebel against Sean, I walked swiftly passed Dammon and headed up the steps to my porch, deciding that I would be ignoring him from here on out. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Sean was a dangerous man. I didn't want Dammon to get hurt, but I especially didn't want him to get hurt because of me.

  "What happened to your wrists, Luna?" Dammon asked. Even though there was a shard of sharpness in his tone, his musical voice still threatened to carry me away.

  Oh, how I wanted it to! Oh, how it would have been so wonderful to drift as far away from me as I could drift. With him. A man who was an anomaly to me. A gentle man. A safe man.

  Wholly freak, they did exist, gentle men! And one was standing right there in my front yard.

  Moments later I realized just how stupid I was for believing in such a crazy thing as a gentle man.

  "It's none of your business. Go away," I said. At the top of the steps, I stopped and looked at him from over my shoulder. I glared at him, projecting all my frustration toward him. I was only a little aware of the fact that I wanted, more than anything, for him to fix this. I didn't want to have to say good bye to Dammon.

  Dammon stuffed his fingers into the pockets of his blue jeans, leaning slightly to one side. The sun put sparkles in his sky-blue eyes. The breeze lifted his hair away from his face.

  Who was I kidding? I couldn't ignore Dammon. The way he stood there like that, so angelic-like, made it seem as though the sky beyond him was embracing him. Maybe he truly was an angel. Maybe the sky missed his beautiful, peaceful presence, and that's why it was hugging him like that.

  How could I deny myself of that peace that radiated from his being? How could I deny myself of breezes through leaves and a magic that once only existed in my fairytale dreams?

  "If you can tell me that you want me to go away, and you can actually mean it, then I will. I promise. You will never see me again."

  I swallowed hard and quickly said the words before my throat could close up on them. "Go. Away!"

  Dammon grinned at me. "I said you had to mean it."

  I turned around, went inside my box-cluttered house and slammed the door behind me. I barely got across the living room before there was a knock on the door.

  "Go away! There, see? I actually meant it this time," I yelled, spinning around to face the door.

  "I don't know, Luna. I just aint feeling it." Dammon's voice came through the door. He was now standing right on the other side of it.

  So close. Yet, still so far away.

  "Go! Away!

  In the silence that followed, I thought that he had actually gone away like I told him to. The sadness intensified, solidifying in my belly like curing concrete.

  "Nay, still isn't working for me, sorry. It was good though, I have to admit. I think you would have convinced me if I weren't such a darn good people reader," Dammon said.

  I smiled, excited to discover that he was still there. On impulse, I walked back to the door and touched my palm against it. I wanted to let him in. I didn't want him to go away.

  "I could stand out here all day, maybe even wave at Sean as he drives by to spy on you."

  I quickly opened the door, grabbed Dammon by the collar, yanked him inside and then quickly closed the door behind him. "You're crazy, Dammon! Do you have a death wish or something? You really need to stay away from me!"

  "But that is not what you want."

  "No. It's not what I want," I said, in a barely audible voice. "I enjoy your company."

  "Me too."

  "You enjoy your own company?" I tweaked a brow at him.

  "Well, absolutely. I'm a good guy, once I get to know myself."

  "You gotta be, like, gay, or something."

  "Why? There can't be any good guys out there?"

  "There's no such thing!"

  "Well, I am on the endangered species list, so I have heard," he said.

  "You really shouldn't be here, Dammon. As much as I enjoy your company, it's still hazardous to your health. He said he would kill you, and I believe him. He's totally insane, Dammon! Totally insane. And I believe he's totally capable of murder."

  "Is he capable of murdering you?" Dammon asked. His smile evaporated. His eyes moved to my temple where Sean had struck me. He raised his hand, and I flinched at his touch. I held my breath while his thumb carefully brushed across my cheek bone, just beneath my green eye. The connection his flesh made with mine created such an illusion of elation that I was totally, 100% convinced that there was a heaven and that it was right here in the palm of Dammon's hand. This startled me, the extent of this emotion, and I stepped backward, as if physically distancing myself would put me in an emotionally safe range. I really needing this feeling to go away before it changed me forever.

  Dammon lowered his hand, keeping his eyes in mine while he took my arm and raised my bandaged wrist up between us. "I know you may find this hard to believe, but Sean is possessed by a demon, Luna. My mother is certain of it. And this," he glanced at my wrist and then settled his eyes back in mine, "is only the beginning."

  I pulled my hand out of Dammon's grasp. "Sean doesn't want me dead," I said defensively. "Sean is just a little lost, that's all. We're all a little lost. Stop worrying about me, Dammon. Just stop the freaking worrying, alright?"

  "Are you so accustomed to this type of behavior that you can actually be ok with the way he treats you?"

  I reflexively thought about Barron. The answer to Dammon's question was yes. But even if Dammon knew the hell I had lived thus far, even if he was right there, watching it all happen, I just knew he still would not understand. Yes, I was accustomed to this type of behavior. It was all I ever knew. It did dot scare me as much as it would someone who had lived a sheltered life. Anything else --a gentle man-- would have been out of my comfort zone. Sean was fit very snugly within my comfort zone.

  "What have you been through?" Dammon asked, exasperated. "I would really like to know."

  I dropped my chin. There was just no way I could tell him. It was awful and ugly, and I never wanted to deliberately breathe life into those monsters again.

  Dammon turned my wrists up, exposing the scars that marked my forearms. Then he uncurled my fingers, holding on to the tips of them to expose the scars in my palms.

  "You can tell me, Luna." Dammon tipped his head to one side, peeking at me through my hair, and I felt the path he had left inside of me burst with colorful emotions.

  But there was nothing I could do about how I felt for Dammon. I had to find a way to let him go. Just like I had to find a way to let Bane go.

  "You're a guy. Guys are mean. Of course I can't tell you," I said. I moved away from Damon and opened the door, silently asking him to leave. But Dammon just stood there, staring at me as if he was trying to figure something out. He must have either accomplished that or had given up, because I watched his expression move into something a little more confident-looking.

  "My name is Dammon Small. I am twenty years old and the black sheep of Burling. Do you want to know why? My favorite past time is composing music. I do not drink. I do not smoke. I don't do drugs. And I keep to myself because misery
loves company, and since I have none of that, I have no company. I was not raised in a dysfunctional family. I was not abused or mistreated in anyway as a child, and I have no genetic disabilities or abnormalities that label me clinically insane or psychotic or any other issue that is out there in this world today. I am not one of them. I am different. And maybe to a wild girl like you, nothing that I've said to describe myself is exciting enough. But the point is, I will not hurt you. And no matter what this violent, crazy world has taught you, we are out there, you know. Angels. And if you were to just climb up over that wall you've constructed inside yourself, just even for one second, you would see me for the man I truly am, rather than the man you fear me to be."

  "None of this matters, Dammon. None of it! All that cool stuff you just said. So what? What difference does any of it make? We can't be together. We can't even talk to one another. And I'm pretty sure I couldn't leave Sean even if I want to. Now, you need to go."

  Dammon just looked at me for a moment. The finality in my tone was reflecting back to me through his eyes.

  I hurt him. The expression on his face was telling me so.

  "I'm right there, across the yard, if you ever need anything," he said. Then he swept passed me, like a warm breeze in autumn, whispering a promise of winter's coming.

  I closed the door, wondering if I would ever see Dammon again, wondering if I'd ever find heaven in the palm of anyone else's hand.

  "Good bye, Dammon Small," I whispered to the door, and a single tear trickled down my face.

  ****

  Chapter Thirteen

  Luna