A/N: Hello everyone! Welcome back to the realm of my writing or lack thereof. Yeah, I know that it's been awhile since I posted anything, but I've been working on spreading the word of my first published original story. Thanks to one of my friends and her loving support, I have been encouraged to get another chapter of this posted up for your benefit. I would like to thank you all for the patience and here is the reward. Please enjoy and keep all snarky comments to yourself until the end…
OOOOOOOOO
Iona stared across the crowd at the man with the redhead, feeling his stare on her skin. Her body grew cold while her heart grew conflictingly warm. There was something about that man that she knew was wrong, something to be afraid of. And it was almost something to be pitied in his life. She only felt that way about a few people and she knew that it was never a good sign.
The crowd roared with applause and Iona jumped, realizing that she hadn't heart a single note that the band had played in the last ten minutes. She broke her stare with the man and turned, forcing herself away from the fringe of the crowd without saying a word. Every nerve in her body told her that she had to leave the crowd and get home to her grandmother and Roma.
The gypsy girl stepped into the light of the boardwalk, but she didn't feel any safer under the harsh yellow glare. Many crimes had been committed in the open and the night guards didn't do anything to stop it. Not that they could. She had seen their numbers dwindle and grow, only to dwindle again when they stuck their noses in affairs that no one should witness.
The affairs of vampires.
But are they really the most dangerous creatures in the night? Iona wondered, glancing over her shoulder as someone chuckled darkly. They only play with you until they decide it's time to feed…with your blood pumping with fresh adrenaline…Dangerous men play with you over and over again, never ending the torment. They are far more dangerous because they won't kill you unless you do something that they don't like. Vampires are quicker.
Her dark eyes passed over a drunken man and his son, feeling the motherly instinct to grab the boy and take him far away from the man. She could see the physical bruises and scared look in his eyes. And she saw deeper, she saw into his heart and saw the wounds that no one would ever see. Wounds that should never have been afflicted on someone so young. In a second, she froze when she saw the man start to pull his hand back to smack the boy.
"Don't touch him!" she ordered, grabbing the man by the forearm and putting her body between him and the boy.
The man blinked a couple times, squinting at her as his already red face grew redder. "Who do you think you are, bitch?" he demanded, trying unsuccessfully to pull his arm free. "This has nothing to do with you!"
"It has everything to do with me," Iona told him like she was talking to a child. "I will not stand by and let someone abuse another human. Especially not one who attacks a child. I don't care what he did or didn't do – you should never hit someone when they're smaller than you." She glanced at the boy, but never released his father's arm. "You don't deserve to be hurt like this."
The boy looked petrified, but Iona could see the hopeful gleam deep in his eyes. It hurt her to see the mottled ring of purple and black around his right eye. She wanted nothing more than to take him with her and find a place for him that would keep him safe from his father's anger.
The drunken man wrenched his arm free from the gypsy's grasp and he stumbled back a step before regaining his momentum. "Crazy bitch! You shouldn't mess with us – we don't need your kind in this country! Take your wetback ass back to your own country and leave the true Americans alone!"
Iona didn't flinch at his incorrect racial slur. It only made her want to protect the boy behind her more. "We wetbacks will leave your white asses alone once you stop being bastards to your children and slave-drivers to your wives!" she growled at him. "Didn't your mother ever teach you to treat women and children with the same respect you treat other men with?"
"Are you trying to tell me how to raise my son?" the man demanded, his spittle hitting her face. "I don't have to listen to you."
"You'd better or you won't be going anywhere with your son."
The boy squeaked when his father pulled his hand back, fist ready to smash into Iona's face. She moved out of the way and tripped him so that he fell onto the ground. It didn't occur to her that he would try to get her from below, but he did. The drunken man grabbed onto her legs and forced them out from underneath of her, sending her sprawling onto her back with a loud crack. Iona's breath came out in a pained gasp and she saw black spots across her vision.
"Dad stop!" the boy called out as the drunken man started punching blindly at the gypsy girl's body. "Please stop!"
Iona managed to land a kick in the man's groin and scurried backwards when she felt his weight fall off of her. The man placed a hand at his crotch and his angry, glassy eyes burned against her skin.
"You'll pay for that, you bitch!" he growled, reaching for her.
Someone stepped in the way and knocked the drunken man back. Iona looked up when someone placed a hand on her arm and saw the redhead who had tipped her earlier that night. The redhead looked her over before offering words.
"Are you okay?" she asked and Iona recognized the New York accent on the girl's tongue.
"Yes," Iona said, allowing the redhead to help her to her feet. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me," the redhead said, pulling her hands back. "Thank him."
Iona followed the gaze of the redhead and saw that the dark haired man was standing between her and the drunken man. There was strength in him that she had not seen before on a normal man and it seemed like he wasn't even trying to hold the drunken man's hand back. It looked like he was just going through the motions while the drunken man huffed and puffed to try to get a punch on the man.
The dark haired man's eyes turned onto her and she saw the strange mix of emotions lurking there. "You okay?" he asked.
"Yes," Iona breathed, feeling heat flood her face.
"You should go," the redhead said, bringing the attention back to her. "Take the kid home. We'll handle this guy." There was a sort of pain in her eyes that Iona didn't understand. "Just take him home to his mother and you go where you live. Trust me. We'll see the justice system pull through for once." She glanced at the kid and rifled in the pocket of her leather jacket. "Here, kid. Take this and try not to break it."
She held out an electronic game system that was small enough to fit in a kid's palm. The kid took it cautiously, glancing at his father who was still struggling to land blows on the dark haired man. The redhead smiled a small smile and pushed him towards Iona and the entrance to the boardwalk.
"Get outta here," she said.
Iona nodded and took hold of the young boy's hand, feeling his grip tighten on her hand when they moved past his father. She told herself to not look back at the scene. It didn't matter what happened back there – she had to get the boy away from his father and away from the boardwalk before he could get hurt anymore that night. The justice system would work in the favor of the little boy and his mother, but she wondered if it would be the normal justice system or the darker justice of the night.
"So, what's your name?" she asked, looking down at the little boy moving beside her.
OOOOOOOOO
Dwayne dealt with the body of the man who had attacked the gypsy dancer, tearing him in half before throwing him in the ocean. If the man washed up on the shore, then someone would be able to tell the family that their age of terror had come to an end. He was too pissed at the man for attacking the gypsy to even drink a drop of blood from the man's body. The thought of feeding on such a cruel bastard made his undead stomach clench in painful knots. His eyes turned away from the beach and looked back towards his redhead sister when she made a small gasp of pain.
The redhead's hand was pressed against her stomach where he knew there were scars from her past encounter with a vampire in New York. They were her own personal warning system for vampires like Max and the new master vampires lurking around the boardwalk. Since she hadn't been "blessed" with vampirism directly by Max, she had to rely on the scars to tell her when he was near and when he wanted something from the Boys.
"He's really pissed," Faith explained, answering his unasked question. "Seems like another potential mom didn't turn out right for him…again." She shook her head and lowered her hand. "He'll never learn, will he?"
Dwayne shook his head.
Faith sighed and muttered, "Figures…"
A moment later, she was ducking and moving out of the way of Paul. Her fist collided with his stomach, knocking his hyena-like laughter off a little. He pressed a hand where her fist had collided and rubbed it with a huge smile.
"You're getting better at punching, Sis," he commented, draping an arm around her shoulders. "One day, you'll actually be able to send someone flying."
"She already sends old Davie flying," Marko joined in, appearing next to the group with his thumb nail at his lips. "And it's loud as hell…" His cherub face turned towards Dwayne and his eyebrows rose. "You got involved with that little fit really quickly, D-man. What gives?"
"Maybe Dwayne's interested in some exotic ass," Paul guessed with a broad grin. "Did ya see the ass on that one? It almost beats Faith's." His eyes turned lower on the redhead and he shook his head. "It actually beats yours, Faith. You need to work on that."
Faith rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. Marko moved behind her and mocked the action with a little more sassiness than was usual for their new sister. If the redhead noticed, she didn't show it. Her eyes were on Dwayne again when Paul laughed and bumped his fist against Dwayne's shoulder.
"So tell us, what's with the chick?" Paul demanded. "You just like her dancing? Or her body? What about her blood? You got some bloody sex fantasies going on in there about that chick?" He poked at Dwayne's temple. "Some really kinky shit?"
"Leave him alone, Paul," Faith ordered, glaring at him. "And go puff on some bad seed before you get on my bad side."
Paul cast a sideways glance at Faith, still poking Dwayne's temple. "You have a good side, Sis?"
"All we want to know is what's up with the girl," Marko said from behind his thumb. "Is saving her just a onetime thing or what?"
Dwayne grabbed his brother's hand and twisted it behind his back, remaining silent. The expression on his face warned the two blonds that he was not in the mood to talk to them about what happened on the boardwalk. Paul howled in pain mixed with laughter when bone cracked in his arm.
"Ooh, dog! I'm going to have find a tasty piece of ass somewhere on this boardwalk tonight to fix that one," Paul laughed, shaking his head with a large smile across his face. "Dammit Dwayne! Let off!"
"You probably deserved it," David said, coming up from behind his brothers. "With all that unnecessary talking you do."
"If I had a bedmate like you do, I wouldn't be doing much talking," Paul laughed. "Well, I would, but it would be a different kind of talking." He turned his head slightly to look at Dwayne. "But I ain't swinging that way. Not ever."
"Not interested in you that way either," Dwayne said softly, barely cracking a smile.
"Good, good. Now, how about we go get some nice young thing and take her for a ride she'll never forget or remember?" Paul rubbed his hands together and licked his lips. "I see some over –."
"Save it for later, Paul," David said, taking hold of Faith's hand. "You've had your chance to get a bite and now, you're going to have to wait." His blue eyes showed his deep anger. "Max wants us off the boardwalk. It seems we've crossed into their time here and he doesn't want a blood bath…yet."
"Ooh, we're so scared of vampires with little dicks," Mark commented from behind his thumbnail. "I don't see why we can't take them down. We were here first."
"Yeah," Paul agreed, resting an elbow on Marko's shoulder. "They came onto our turf and I think it's time for us to kick their asses outta here."
Faith's free hand was over her stomach once more. "No, Paul. The newbies aren't in the mood to play nice and I've had my fill of time here. Let's just go."
The two blonds fell silent, watching Faith. Her word was as good as David's, making her the Alpha female of the group. Dwayne was her protector after David and he found that he could tell her emotions and thoughts much better than David could. The other two were just going off what she said, but she was always closest to David and him. She turned her gaze away from them and held her hand out.
Almost out of nowhere, Laddie came running over and gave her a low-five. The little vampire Halfling was chewing on some candy that Dwayne knew he had filched. It was something that didn't bother him much anymore. Sometimes you had to do what you had to do in order to make it by in life. Laddie looked up at Dwayne and smiled; a smear of chocolate at the corner of his lips.
"Are we leaving?" Laddie asked Dwayne, taking the older Lost Boy's hand.
Dwayne nodded and guided the little boy after the group. Paul and Marko were howling with laughter and messing with people on the way to their bikes. Laddie frowned.
"Is it because of those new people?" he asked.
Dwayne nodded again.
"But we're not afraid of them, are we?"
"Not a chance," Dwayne promised, mounting his bike. "C'mon bud. Let's get back to the cave."
"And party!" Paul howled over the roar of their motorcycles.
OOOOOOOOO
Iona saw the little boy safely to his house and watched him until he disappeared beyond the door. She rubbed her arms as she headed down some back streets. The houses around her were nice, showing the signs of wealth that she would never have unless she married one of the rich men who lived in them. And she wasn't interested in doing that, after all the men she'd seen on the boardwalk, gawking at her while she danced the native dances of her people.
I hope the vampires got a hold of him, she thought, thinking about the drunken father of the boy she'd helped. I hope that there is some honor among the vampires and that they would use their abilities to serve justice upon the horrible men in the world. Her eyes scanned the darkened streets as she walked, always searching for what no one knew what lurked in the night as Grandmother Ruby told her. But some vampires are just as bad as the men that they feed on and that wouldn't solve much of anything.
The gypsy dancer moved out of an alley and saw her grandmother's house. It was a little run-down but still beautiful in an old-fashioned way. The white trim around the windows and doors had turned a light gray with the age and the paint was chipped in places, revealing aged wood underneath. There was a light in the front window, beyond the crosses that stood out against the cold glass, telling Iona that her grandmother was still in the living room. Gage was standing in the shadows next to the front door, smoking a cigarette which he promptly pulled from his lips as Iona climbed the steps.
"Was the band playing anything good?" he asked, breathing a steady stream of smoke away from Iona since she wasn't a fan of his smoking habit.
The gypsy girl bit her bottom lip, not knowing what kind of music had been playing at the beach. It had all been forgotten when she had looked at the dark man beside the redhead. She shook her head and ran a hand through her long tresses. "It wasn't my thing…" Her eyes turned towards the window again, noticing the light. "Is Grandmother Ruby still watching television?"
Gage's eyes turned in the direction of the light. "She wasn't when I sent Roma up to bed."
"At her loom?" Iona asked.
The Hispanic man nodded and tossed his cigarette onto the ground, stamping it out. "Will you need me to come by tomorrow morning for anything?" he asked, looking at her.
"I'm sure Grandmother will call you if she needs anything," Iona promised, raking a hand through her hair again. "How much closer are we to getting the money we need to…?"
"We're close. Give it a week like this one and we'll have enough to go." He took a step down off the porch and frowned. "Are you going to be okay tonight? You seem…nervous."
"Do I?" Iona smiled weakly. "I'm just remembering the dangers of the night. Please be safe on your way home, Gage. Roma needs you to help him grow into a strong man."
There was a strange gleam in Gage's eyes, but Iona had seen it many times before. It all involved the fate they knew that the gypsy boy would have if he stayed here. That's why they had to get the money – to give Roma a chance at living.
Shaking herself mentally, Iona put a hand on Gage's arm. "Thank you for taking care of him…of all of us."
Gage smiled. "Any time, Iona. You better get inside to your grandmother. She'll be worried."
Iona nodded, but waited until Gage was beyond the little gate before turning and slipping inside her grandmother's house. Instantly she was immersed in the scent of fresh vanilla and lilac – two scents that her grandmother said reminded her of the past houses she had lived in. More specifically, her mother and her mother's mother. Iona had been brought up with her grandmother's love of these scents and would miss them long after her grandmother passed. Taking a slow breath, she headed into the living room where her grandmother's loom dominated the far corner.
"Grandmother," she greeted, bowing her head slightly as she had been taught to do around her elders.
"You were late coming home, Child," Grandmother Ruby said, threading the gossamer threads through the loom, finishing a line of beautiful gold diamonds.
"I'm sorry. There was a little boy that needed my attention."
"His father was beating him?"
Iona smiled at the way that her grandmother could read her mind. She had never been able to lie to her before and never had a real reason to. "Yes, Grandmother."
The older woman lowered her hands and turned to look at Iona. There was age lines scattered across the woman's face, but her brown eyes were bright with life. Her black hair was long and heavy in its braid, scattered with thin strands of grey. A beautiful robe of red and gold clung to her thin frame, a robe that she had been given by her own mother many years ago. Grandmother Ruby held out her hand to Iona and the hand was steady and youthful compared to other women of her age.
Instinctively, Iona moved forward to take her grandmother's hand. The woman's fingers were warm with life and squeezed the young girl's tightly before turning her hand over. Grandmother Ruby's fingers traced over the lines on Iona's hands with a gentle expertise as they had done for hundreds of people before her – people who wanted their palms read for shits and giggles. Iona believed that there was some truth into the lines that crossed over someone's palm and her grandmother seemed to have the necessary gift to translate every little line and crease in someone's hand.
"You've met someone new tonight," Grandmother Ruby commented, ghosting her fingertips over Iona's palm. "Someone who will change the way that your life was heading. He is kind and will be your protector long after I am gone."
"You promised that you would be with me until the end of time, Grandmother," Iona whispered, watching the fingers move over her palm. "Will he come then?"
The older woman made a small sound. "Child, you have met the man that you will be with…and he shall be with you until the end of time. What I promised you, Child, in regards to this was that I would be with you until my time was up and hand the protection over to the person who you were destined to be with." She lightly tapped her finger against a certain line. "And it appears that he will be kind and silent, but knows more than he lets on…" She smiled and released the girl's hand. "Was he attractive?"
Iona smiled and picked at the frayed ends of her jean shorts as she sat down on an old chair. "Well…maybe a little," she said, thinking about the dark haired man. "But it doesn't matter very much. He was with someone else…and I probably won't run into him again." She sighed and looked down at her hands. "Story of my life, Grandmother...one that doesn't end as nicely as the ones you tell about Grandfather and you."
"Not if you keep up that attitude, it won't. You must realize that fate is ever changing and what you think will happen today can change on a dime. I know very well that you have found the man that will love you forever, but I also know you. You will try very hard to keep him from getting to your heart too quickly…because you are far more concerned about taking care of children that aren't yours."
Iona closed her eyes, bracing herself for a lecture. She was due for one this month anyway.
"You will make a great mother one day," Grandmother Ruby said, returning to her loom work. "Even to the children that were not born from you…And Child that is a feat that not many people can accomplish."
The young gypsy nodded and rose to her feet once more. "I know, Grandmother. And I owe it all to you."
Grandmother Ruby smiled. "You should go to bed now. Tomorrow will be another long day."
Iona moved closer to her grandmother and placed a kiss on the old woman's cheek. With a whispered "goodnight", she left the room and hurried up to her room. Once safely behind the closed door, she found her sketchbook and perched herself on the bed with it on her knee. Flipping through the pages, she found the one page that contained her imagined wedding photograph that she had drawn not less than a few months ago.
One platinum blond man stood next to a redheaded woman. Two wild blond men stood off to the side, one biting his thumbnail. In the middle of the drawing was herself in a white dress and she was holding the hand of a man with dark-hair while her other hand rested on the shoulder of a younger boy. They were the perfect picture of a family that she always wanted to have, but looking closer, she found something terrifying.
The dark-haired man and the redhead looked exactly like the people who had saved her on the boardwalk.
"What's going on here?" she wondered aloud. Her eyes turned up to the ceiling overhead. "Mother? Have you passed on the psychic powers that you shunned?"
OOOOOOOOO
A/N: So? What did you guys think about this? It's been a long time, so maybe you've got some beef against me and that is all right. I can't make a promise that I will update quickly because of all the projects that I'm involved in at the moment. Lame excuse and overly used, but it is the absolute truth. Please leave a small comment in the review box and have a wonderful Thanksgiving week! -Scarlet