The Purity of Blood: Volume I (16 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Geoghan

BOOK: The Purity of Blood: Volume I
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What was that other word?

He turned,
quickly closing the gate behind him and without looking my way, walked straight
past me and took the lead.
 

Sophronia
Hood.
 
I was going to have to look her up
on line when I got home.
 
Her and her
family were a good mystery and I could never resist a genealogical challenge.
 

A few minutes
later I reached around and pulled my backpack open as we walked, and taking out
a small notepad and pencil, I made some notes of the names and dates I
remembered off the stones.
 

When I finished,
I swung the bag back over my shoulder with enough force to accidentally knock
myself off balance.
 
I wobbled for a
moment on the rocky uneven ground and then went down hard.
 
Of course I hit the ground on the crest of a
ridge we’d been following, and unable to stop myself, started to tumble down
the embankment.
 
Unfortunately, the hill
was too steep for me to arrest my momentum once I got started.
 
I tried to grab some passing trees as I
bounced off of them, but wasn’t able to get a hold of them before I was angrily
pulled down by the unyielding force of gravity.
 
Tumbling head over heels, I could feel my body painfully making impact
with jagged rocks along the way and prayed I wasn’t going to be dead before I
finally came to a stop.
 

Suddenly I felt
a sharp pain in my ankle and then I stopped.
 
My eyes were closed.
 
I wasn’t sure
I could open them.
 
What would I see when
I did?

“Sara!
 
Are you alright?
 
Open your eyes!”
 

I could feel
Daniel beside me on the ground.
 
As if
obeying his command, my eyes fluttered open as he gently began to pull leaves
out from around my face and hair.
 

“Say something!”

“What happened?”
I murmured.

“You fell down
the hill, you Dummy! Why did you do that?”

I looked up and
saw the incline I’d come down.
 
It was a
near vertical drop here at the bottom.

“Well, I guess
it was faster,” I mumbled not really intending to be funny.

“You idiot!” he
smiled.
 
“You went the wrong direction if
that was what you wanted to accomplish.”
 
He was trying to laugh, but was obviously still concerned I’d hurt
myself.
  

“Can you sit
up?”

I did, but could
feel the spots where the rocks had impacted my torso.
 
I could also feel a lump rising on my
forehead where an oak tree had made its distinct impression.

“Ouch,” I said,
lamely.
 
“I hit my head.”

“Hit your head,”
he mumbled darkly.
 
“You’re lucky you
didn’t break your neck.”

I made an
attempt to get to my feet, but fell into his arms as my ankle gave out from
under me.

“I think I
twisted my ankle,” I said.
  
“Give me a
few minutes.
 
I’ll be alright.”

His muscular
arms guided me to sit down on a nearby rock, and bending down, he took off my
boot and gently removed my sock.
 
My body
was in a state of shock, but even so, I could still feel his flesh against my
ankle as he examined me.
 
His touch was
odd, as if his skin was synthetic.
 
But
somehow even though it felt wrong, it felt good as he caressed my lower leg
making sure I hadn’t broken any bones.
 

I felt sleepy as
I looked down at the top of his sandy blonde head.
 
In my haze his hair called to me and I
reached out and touched it.
 
It felt
soft, like silk.
 
I wanted to run my
fingers through it and probably would have if he hadn’t looked up.
  

“You didn’t
break it, but it looks like a bad sprain.
 
You’re going to need to stay off it for a while.”

“You sound like
a doctor.”

He sort of
coughed as if to cover the laugh he was obviously trying to suppress.
 

“I’ve – uh –
sort of tried a few other professions on for size over the years.”
 

He got to his
feet and looked down at me.
 
I must have
looked like a bedraggled beast covered in dirt and leaves.
  

“Well, we can’t
stay here.
 
It will be getting dark
before you know it and the temperature will take a real nose dive tonight.
 
I could leave you here, but you’d probably
die of exposure.”
 
He paused for a moment
like he was remembering something.
 
“That
has a familiar ring about it, doesn’t it?” he remarked in a sweet but mocking
tone.

“What are you
proposing?” I asked with some trepidation.

“I’m
not
proposing, Sara.”
 
He looked down at me with a sly smile causing
me to blush a deep scarlet.

Suddenly he
reached down, threw my backpack over his shoulder then scooped me up in his
arms.

“What are you
doing?
 
You can’t carry me all the way!”

“Ye of little
faith,” was all he said as he started off.
 

I was too tired
to fight him, although that’s exactly what I wanted to do.
 
My ankle burned and my head wasn’t far behind
with its incessant throbbing.
 
I could
also feel a dozen or so painful black and blues beginning to form all over the
rest of me.
    

As we walked for
a while, the steady rhythm of his footsteps was beginning to make me more and
more drowsy.
 
His chest and arms didn’t
feel warm or particularly soft, but hard and strong as they encircled me.
 
His muscles must have been taut carrying my
weight, but when I looked up at his face, he didn’t seem to show any signs of
strain.
 
He peered down at me
occasionally and smiled comfortingly, but my eye lids were growing heavier and
heavier and eventually they closed completely.
 

“Are you still
alive?” I heard him ask as I cuddled closer into his arms.

I was on the
verge of sleep or passing out, I couldn’t tell which one.

“Have you been
watching me?” I murmured.
 

If he answered,
I never heard it.

    

 
 
 
 
 
 
Chapter Five
 

SARA

 

I
dreamed of things that made no sense.
 
I saw blue eyes watching me, then they were gray eyes.
 
Gray eyes that stared at me in silence but
seemed to speak wordless volumes.
 
These
gray eyes looked like mine, like a mirror, but were framed by a different face,
one that was obscured just enough for me not to be able to distinguish its
characteristics.
 
Yet I felt I’d seen it
many times before.
 
I often dreamed of
things that made no sense, like my own personal Dali paintings in my mind.
 
I guess I was used to them, but sometimes I
still found them unsettling.

My eyes were
closed, but I was awake now.
 
Still too
sleepy to even know that I should be wondering where I was, and more
importantly how I’d gotten here.
 

I opened my eyes
and saw only glaring white.
 
I rolled
over and the white pulled away.
 
It was a
sheet.
 
I must have gotten tangled up in
it as I slept.
 
Slowly my eyes came into
focus.
 
I was in a bed, but not my
bed.
 
In a room, but not my room.
 
I sat up too fast and the unfamiliar room
spun.
 
Steadying myself, I looked
around.
 
My backpack and jacket were
slung over a chair in the corner.
 
My
shoes and socks left neatly at its base.

Where was
I?
 
The room looked modern.
 
It had stark white walls and beautiful dark
honey floorboards the color of amber beer.
 
The same wood was in the beams of the ceiling and support
structures.
 
The wall behind me was solid
floor to ceiling glass with no curtain.
 
The sun must have just set as I could see its last throws of light on
the horizon.
 
How long had I been here?

With great
effort, I swung my legs off the bed.
 
My
ankle still throbbed, but I managed to get to my feet and hobbled over to the
closed door.
 
As quietly as I could, I
opened it and peaked outside.
 

Silence.

I staggered down
the hallway to what looked like the main room.
 
To the left was an almost two story glass wall looking out over a lake
that was some distance below the deck outside the window.
 
Tucked off to the right was a kitchen and
dining area with windows looking out over a grassy patch of lawn.
 
In the kitchen, I spied a door that led out
back.
 
It was open, and hobbling as
quietly as possible, I headed in that direction.
 

As I got closer,
I spotted Daniel down on the lawn about fifty feet from the house.
 
He was talking to someone on his phone.
 
I could hear his voice only because the
conversation he was having seemed to be a heated one.
 
He was angry.
 
Hard as I tried, I was only able to make out bits and pieces of it, but
not enough to glean anything of its substance.
 
My head started spinning again as I clutched the counter top for
support.

I heard “I don’t
understand why you can’t tell me.”
 

I swayed to the
left and caught myself on the counter again.
 

“I’ve done as
you asked. – No, there’s been no sign of him yet.”
 

The pain in my
ankle increased two fold when I accidently put weight on it to catch my
balance.
  

“No, Randall,
she doesn’t suspect anything, but I don’t know how much more of this I can
take.
 
She’s just so –” and then I fell.

I was hazily
looking at the amber baseboards in the kitchen when I saw his shoes in front of
me.
 

“How on earth
did you get in here?” he scolded as he gently picked me up, cradling my body to
his chest.

“I should have
known to lock the door or tie you down or something.”
 

My eyes were closed, but by his tone I’d have guessed he was
trying not to laugh.

 

I found myself awake again, alone
in the bedroom.
 
The light woke me
up.
 
The sun was up and because there
were no curtains, it was flooding the room with bright, blinding light.
 
When I sat up, my head didn’t spin which was
a relief.

Attempting to assess
my injuries, I reached up and felt the bump on my head.
 
Thankfully, it seemed to have gone down
considerably.

Pulling back the
sheet, I spied several large black and blues on my legs.
 
How long had I been asleep and, more
importantly – where were my pants!

I got up and
hobbled over to the door.
 
My ankle was
swollen, huge really.
 
I wasn’t sure I
could get my boot on even if I tried.
  
As I opened the door, I could hear music coming from the direction of
the main room.
 
It sounded like some
scratchy old jazz recording.
 
I must be
in Daniel and the Professor’s house.
 
I
guess I should be grateful for his hospitality, but in that moment, I wasn’t
sure how I felt about seeing Daniel.
 
I
wasn’t entirely sure I hadn’t been kidnapped or something at this point.
 

With a blanket
tied around my waist, I quietly made my way out the door and down the hall in
the opposite direction of the music.
 
I
didn’t exactly know what I was looking for, besides my pants, but a bathroom
would be a good start.

I opened the
first door only to find a broom closet.
 
Seeing
nothing of interest, I staggered down a few more feet and quietly opened the
next door.
 
I peered in.
 
It was a large storage closet.
 
A light automatically came on when I opened
the door illuminating shelves neatly lined with cleaning supplies.
 
At the far end of the long closet were what
looked like shelves of medical supplies.
 
I heard a strange humming sound coming from the back wall and, too
curious for my own good, I hobbled over to see what it was.
 
As I got closer, I saw it came from a half
size refrigerator.
 
I couldn’t help but
wonder why anyone would keep a fridge in a closet like this.
 
As I stood there staring at it, I remembered
the old adage that if you really wanted to find out about someone, you should
check out what was in their refrigerator or medicine cabinet.
 

Insatiable
curiosity about my host / captor compelled me to put my hand on the
handle.
 
Hand firmly on it, I
paused.
 
I felt like I was about to
invade his privacy.
 
Was this something I
really wanted to do?
 
Well, I was already
in the closet, what difference did it make now, I thought to myself in
justification.
 
I tugged on the handle
and swung the door open.
 
Unable to move,
I stared at the contents for a few moments in silent disbelief.

“What on earth?”
I finally whispered to myself.

Looking like an
inner city ER’s stockpile, the stainless steel shelves were filled with units
of blood.
 
I quickly shut the door, but
unmoving, continued to stare at the stainless steel of the closed door.
 
Why would anyone have a fridge full of blood
in their closet?
 
Maybe he has one of
those blood disorders where you need constant transfusions.
 
He
was
very pale – or maybe he was a vampire.
 

I thought it in
jest, but just the thought stopped me in my tracks.

Oh, don’t be stupid
I thought to
myself.
 

I quietly
toddled out of the closet, and as silently as possible closed the door behind
me.
 
Readjusting my blanket, I made my
way towards the main room.
 
My stomach
growling, I was too hungry to think straight.

At the end of
the hallway, I rounded the corner and found Daniel sitting at a desk off to the
side of the room, working on a computer.
 
He looked up at the sound of my approach.

“Ah, you’re
up.
 
I was beginning to grow concerned.”

“How long was I
asleep?”

He looked at his
watch.
 
“It’s almost noon.
 
You should probably call your roommate.
 
She’s probably wondering what happened to
you.”

“I doubt it,” I
replied casually, looking around the large airy room.

“Why?
 
You didn’t come home last night.”

“Well, neither
did she … most likely.
 
She usually
doesn’t.”

He suddenly
looked concerned.
 
“What do you mean?”

“She spends most
nights with her pledge class, so I pretty much have a single.”


Humm
… I hadn’t realized that,” he said, his voice trailing
off in some private thought.

“Why would you?”
I asked, confused by his response.

“No reason, I
suppose,” he replied, shaking off some deep unspoken thought.

“So I thought
you were going to tie me up.
 
What
happened?”
 
Suddenly realizing what I’d
said, I blushed.

He smiled.
 
“Well, don’t think I didn’t consider it, but
I figured you wouldn’t run off without your pants.
 
I apologize for that by the way.”

I gave him a
leer.

“I swear on my
honor as a gentleman, I didn’t peak at anything.”
 
But he was smiling a little too much for my
taste.
 
So much so that I wasn’t exactly
sure whether I believed him or not.

“So?” I
said.
 

He cocked his
head to the side and looked at me with a quizzical expression.

“Yes?”

“My pants?”

“Oh – yes.
 
I took the liberty of washing them.
 
They’re on top of the dryer.
 
I’ll get them.”
 
He got up and headed towards the
kitchen.
 
“You must be hungry.
 
I don’t have much by way of food in the
house, but I’m sure I can find you something.
 
Have a seat.
 
You shouldn’t be on
your ankle anyway.”

I took a seat at
a table in the kitchen.
 
It was a
gorgeous, antique, wooden farmhouse table.
 
Running my fingers across it, I couldn’t help but think how much my
mother would have loved it for our kitchen back home.
 
A moment later he walked back in and put my
jeans down next to me.

“They were
covered in dirt.
 
I didn’t want to send
you home looking like that.”

He got down on
one knee and carefully picked up my foot.
 

“It looks less
swollen than yesterday, but you’re really going to have to try to stay off it
as much as you can for the next few days.”

He pulled out an
ace bandage from his pocket and started to wrap it around my ankle.

“This should
help.”
 

His touch was
gentle, like practiced doctor’s hands, and for the first time I wondered what
they would feel like if not used for purely medicinal purposes.
 
When he finished it looked like a
professional job.
 
I’m sure mine would
have looked like my ankle had been attacked by the bandage and lost.
 
I’d always sucked at first aid.

“Thanks,” I
muttered when he finished.
 
He looked up
into my eyes and smiled.
 
I wasn’t used
to this kind of attentiveness and it made me a little uncomfortable.

“So – food.
 
Let’s see what I can find.
 
I’m pretty sure all I have is water to
drink.”
 
He pulled out a glass and filled
it from the tap.
 
“This is great water
though.
 
Comes from our own well.”
 

He put the glass
down in front of me and went back to the cabinets leaving me to silently watch
as he opened them up one by one.
 
When he
reached up to open the upper cabinets, I noticed how the muscles of his back
and shoulders rippled under his thin white tee-shirt.
 
Well, that and the way his old blue jeans
hugged his well-toned backside.
 
Turning
my head away before he could catch my roving eye, I glanced around the
kitchen.
 
It was small, strangely small
for such a large home.
 
Compared to the
living room, it was practically a glorified closet.


Humm
… Guess I really need to go shopping,” he mumbled.

As he opened
them, I could see that most of the cabinets were empty.
 
When he finally opened the high cabinet where
most people probably would have kept the good silverware, he came across an
unopened bag of potato chips and a couple of cans of fruit cocktail.
 

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