Read Online Blood Descendants (St. Clair Vampires Book 1) by Beverly Toney - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Beverly Toney
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led to believe. The
truth about her raising me purely for profit left a bitter taste in
my mouth. And, standing in front of the same woman who has me listed
on her family tree didn’t help matters.
I stared at the dais
and its occupants. There were three people to Efia’s left and
three to her right and all of them were staring back at me. I felt
movement from behind me and exhaled when Tabitha came to stand at my
side. She bent into a low curtsey and stayed there. I was so shocked
that my mouth dropped open. I looked around frantically and, not
knowing what else to do, I sank down into the best curtsey I could
manage with my set of curtsey-skills. I almost tumbled over, which
brought a thinly veiled laugh from a member of the dais.
“ Stand”,
Efia’s accented voice commanded. “Solomon, please bring
Cheyenne a chair.”
Solomon was carrying a
large chair in one hand as if it were a paper cup, and when he set it
down quietly, he bowed at me and then at the dais and walked
backwards to his post by the door. My legs started to get weak and I
was beginning to feel like I was going to be sick. Tabitha put one
hand on my elbow and, to my amazement, she was supporting all of my
weight. I backed into the chair and sat down. This was not good.
“ Welcome,
Cheyenne”, Efia started. “I know you have questions about
why you are here and what is going on so I will get right to it. I am
told that you have seen the family tree, is this correct?”
Efia stared at me while
I tried to get my mouth to work. Based on our surroundings and the
fact that we were just bowing in front of her, I expected her to be
impatient with my lack of response. She surprised me, however, by
looking directly into my eyes and smiling. That smile was so like the
one that Jordan had given me that I found myself even more anxious
than ever. Efia also had my eyes.
“ Yes,
Ma’am,” I finally sputtered out. “Yes, Ma’am,
I did. I have a lot of questions.”
“ I
know, my child, and I will try to answer them all, but we no longer
have the luxury of time and leisure. There are things that you must
know about your family and such knowledge is hard to bear.”
I stared back at her as
her words sunk in. I looked across the dais to find the assembled
group looking at me with a mixture of anxiety, relief and fear. The
conflicting emotions almost made the air too thick to breath and I
found my vision going blurry.
“ Have
you been having any dreams, Cheyenne?”
My attention was
snapped back to Efia in the center of the dais. I had been having
dreams; a lot of them. They had started when I was a child and
increases every year since. The day after my 17th birthday they began
to include smells and they always ended one way; with me awaking up
screaming. As I recalled the number of dreams I'd had over the past
year, it became strange that my foster mom had not once come into the
room to see if I was okay. I wondered if she knew what was happening
or if she just didn’t care. Or both.
“ Yes,
Ma’am. I have been having dreams.”
“ I
would love to hear about them. Just pick the most vivid one you can
recall.”
I sat there in awe and
tried to figure out why Efia was interested in my dreams. The most
recent dream that I dreamt hadn’t been pleasant. I remembered
trying to escape the bowels of a ship where monsters were feeding on
the slaves. I could clearly see the ship’s interior. The wood
was warped by the salt water and winds and had begun to smell like
mildew. I saw buckets of food mere inches from buckets of human
waste. Even the memory of the dream seemed real as I recalled
crawling over the debris toward the ladder. And then I froze. The
person in the remembered dream was racing past a series of hanging
pots when she turned her head and I saw her reflection. In my dream I
was Efia.
The dream Efia turned
and looked behind us at the sound of a pot hitting the floor. There
was something there in the shadows just out of our view. We
truth about her raising me purely for profit left a bitter taste in
my mouth. And, standing in front of the same woman who has me listed
on her family tree didn’t help matters.
I stared at the dais
and its occupants. There were three people to Efia’s left and
three to her right and all of them were staring back at me. I felt
movement from behind me and exhaled when Tabitha came to stand at my
side. She bent into a low curtsey and stayed there. I was so shocked
that my mouth dropped open. I looked around frantically and, not
knowing what else to do, I sank down into the best curtsey I could
manage with my set of curtsey-skills. I almost tumbled over, which
brought a thinly veiled laugh from a member of the dais.
“ Stand”,
Efia’s accented voice commanded. “Solomon, please bring
Cheyenne a chair.”
Solomon was carrying a
large chair in one hand as if it were a paper cup, and when he set it
down quietly, he bowed at me and then at the dais and walked
backwards to his post by the door. My legs started to get weak and I
was beginning to feel like I was going to be sick. Tabitha put one
hand on my elbow and, to my amazement, she was supporting all of my
weight. I backed into the chair and sat down. This was not good.
“ Welcome,
Cheyenne”, Efia started. “I know you have questions about
why you are here and what is going on so I will get right to it. I am
told that you have seen the family tree, is this correct?”
Efia stared at me while
I tried to get my mouth to work. Based on our surroundings and the
fact that we were just bowing in front of her, I expected her to be
impatient with my lack of response. She surprised me, however, by
looking directly into my eyes and smiling. That smile was so like the
one that Jordan had given me that I found myself even more anxious
than ever. Efia also had my eyes.
“ Yes,
Ma’am,” I finally sputtered out. “Yes, Ma’am,
I did. I have a lot of questions.”
“ I
know, my child, and I will try to answer them all, but we no longer
have the luxury of time and leisure. There are things that you must
know about your family and such knowledge is hard to bear.”
I stared back at her as
her words sunk in. I looked across the dais to find the assembled
group looking at me with a mixture of anxiety, relief and fear. The
conflicting emotions almost made the air too thick to breath and I
found my vision going blurry.
“ Have
you been having any dreams, Cheyenne?”
My attention was
snapped back to Efia in the center of the dais. I had been having
dreams; a lot of them. They had started when I was a child and
increases every year since. The day after my 17th birthday they began
to include smells and they always ended one way; with me awaking up
screaming. As I recalled the number of dreams I'd had over the past
year, it became strange that my foster mom had not once come into the
room to see if I was okay. I wondered if she knew what was happening
or if she just didn’t care. Or both.
“ Yes,
Ma’am. I have been having dreams.”
“ I
would love to hear about them. Just pick the most vivid one you can
recall.”
I sat there in awe and
tried to figure out why Efia was interested in my dreams. The most
recent dream that I dreamt hadn’t been pleasant. I remembered
trying to escape the bowels of a ship where monsters were feeding on
the slaves. I could clearly see the ship’s interior. The wood
was warped by the salt water and winds and had begun to smell like
mildew. I saw buckets of food mere inches from buckets of human
waste. Even the memory of the dream seemed real as I recalled
crawling over the debris toward the ladder. And then I froze. The
person in the remembered dream was racing past a series of hanging
pots when she turned her head and I saw her reflection. In my dream I
was Efia.
The dream Efia turned
and looked behind us at the sound of a pot hitting the floor. There
was something there in the shadows just out of our view. We
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