Read Online The Vampire Legacy; The New Queen Rises by Dawn Gray - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Dawn Gray
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stopped just short of my lips and, without
moving, looked down at them, and then up at my eyes. His mouth
moved as if he wanted to say something, but then his lips touched
mine softly. A spark seemed to happen, my body responded and so did
his. He suddenly moved away and looked at me sternly, as if he
didn't know what came over him, but he didn't apologize. He just
turned in his seat and pulled the car out into the road. I watched
him in shock almost the rest of the car ride, but when I got bored
with it, I began to think of Julian and the last time I saw
him.
"Your mind is quite loud, you know," he
suddenly said to me.
"So is your mouth!" I replied. He pulled the
car over again and looked at me. "What are you going to try this
time, Quinn?" I asked him.
"Look, I don't know what happened back
there," he replied to me. "You just rub me the wrong way."
"The wrong way?" I smiled at him. "What is
that supposed to mean?"
"Forget it!" He said and pulled out onto the
road again. I stared at him again for a little while longer and
then I looked back out at the road.
"Do you think she can help me?" I asked him
quietly. He glanced over at me as my eyes filled up with tears. He
sighed, probably thinking that I was a weak person for crying.
"If she decides to help you at all, I'm sure
she can show you some way to communicate with your son. Assuming
that he's anything like you," he said with a tone that I couldn't
quite place, somewhere between anger and sarcasm.
The house we pulled up to was a
Victorian-style house in desperate need of a paint job. Quinn only
looked at me quickly as we walked up to the door. He knocked on the
door and then watched as it opened with a creek. Quinn took my hand
as we walked down the darkened hallway. I could feel it pulsating
in my hand and I could also feel him wanting to let it go, but then
he dropped it as we walked into the large room at the end.
She sat at a round table, an old woman with
long, gray almost white hair, in the middle of the room. The table
was covered in rose petals and drying herbs. She looked like she
was weaving the petals into the folds of a wicker basket.
"What do you want, Boy? Why are you here?"
She asked Quinn without looking up from her crafts.
"I need you to do something for me," Quinn
said to her, in a stern voice.
"You mean something for her, don't you?" She
asked, looking up and pointing at me with a crooked finger. Quinn
nodded.
"I don't help vampires."
"I'm not a vampire!" I spoke up, quickly. She
stood and walked over to me.
"Your parents were vampires, so this makes
you one also," she replied to me.
"My mother is a nurse and my father is a
contractor. They may be stupid, but they’re not vampires," I told
her.
"Ah, but your biological parents were, and
you know it. You read it in your mother's journals." She smiled at
me as I looked at her in shock, because no one knew about it, not
even Julian. "And that means that your son is also one."
"Will you help me?" I asked her quietly, as
she walked back to her seat. "You see, he was taken."
"I know this, we all know this."
"Yes, but I need to find a way to communicate
with him, to make sure that he's alive," I told her and then,
suddenly, images flashed through my mind again. "Your daughter is
ill." She was the one who looked at me in shock this time. "That's
why you are making the basket. You're hoping that the herbs and
roses that are woven into it might help her get better."
"How do you know this, child?"
"I see things, in my mind," I told her and
looked at Quinn, then walked over to the table and sat with her.
"She'll be all right, you know. The doctors have a cure."
"Listen to me, child," she said and looked up
at me from the basket. "This is not an easy task."
"Just tell me what to do and I'll do it," I
replied to her. She smiled and looked up at Quinn, who turned and
walked out.
About three hours later, I walked out of the
house and looked at Quinn, who was standing against the car, with
his
moving, looked down at them, and then up at my eyes. His mouth
moved as if he wanted to say something, but then his lips touched
mine softly. A spark seemed to happen, my body responded and so did
his. He suddenly moved away and looked at me sternly, as if he
didn't know what came over him, but he didn't apologize. He just
turned in his seat and pulled the car out into the road. I watched
him in shock almost the rest of the car ride, but when I got bored
with it, I began to think of Julian and the last time I saw
him.
"Your mind is quite loud, you know," he
suddenly said to me.
"So is your mouth!" I replied. He pulled the
car over again and looked at me. "What are you going to try this
time, Quinn?" I asked him.
"Look, I don't know what happened back
there," he replied to me. "You just rub me the wrong way."
"The wrong way?" I smiled at him. "What is
that supposed to mean?"
"Forget it!" He said and pulled out onto the
road again. I stared at him again for a little while longer and
then I looked back out at the road.
"Do you think she can help me?" I asked him
quietly. He glanced over at me as my eyes filled up with tears. He
sighed, probably thinking that I was a weak person for crying.
"If she decides to help you at all, I'm sure
she can show you some way to communicate with your son. Assuming
that he's anything like you," he said with a tone that I couldn't
quite place, somewhere between anger and sarcasm.
The house we pulled up to was a
Victorian-style house in desperate need of a paint job. Quinn only
looked at me quickly as we walked up to the door. He knocked on the
door and then watched as it opened with a creek. Quinn took my hand
as we walked down the darkened hallway. I could feel it pulsating
in my hand and I could also feel him wanting to let it go, but then
he dropped it as we walked into the large room at the end.
She sat at a round table, an old woman with
long, gray almost white hair, in the middle of the room. The table
was covered in rose petals and drying herbs. She looked like she
was weaving the petals into the folds of a wicker basket.
"What do you want, Boy? Why are you here?"
She asked Quinn without looking up from her crafts.
"I need you to do something for me," Quinn
said to her, in a stern voice.
"You mean something for her, don't you?" She
asked, looking up and pointing at me with a crooked finger. Quinn
nodded.
"I don't help vampires."
"I'm not a vampire!" I spoke up, quickly. She
stood and walked over to me.
"Your parents were vampires, so this makes
you one also," she replied to me.
"My mother is a nurse and my father is a
contractor. They may be stupid, but they’re not vampires," I told
her.
"Ah, but your biological parents were, and
you know it. You read it in your mother's journals." She smiled at
me as I looked at her in shock, because no one knew about it, not
even Julian. "And that means that your son is also one."
"Will you help me?" I asked her quietly, as
she walked back to her seat. "You see, he was taken."
"I know this, we all know this."
"Yes, but I need to find a way to communicate
with him, to make sure that he's alive," I told her and then,
suddenly, images flashed through my mind again. "Your daughter is
ill." She was the one who looked at me in shock this time. "That's
why you are making the basket. You're hoping that the herbs and
roses that are woven into it might help her get better."
"How do you know this, child?"
"I see things, in my mind," I told her and
looked at Quinn, then walked over to the table and sat with her.
"She'll be all right, you know. The doctors have a cure."
"Listen to me, child," she said and looked up
at me from the basket. "This is not an easy task."
"Just tell me what to do and I'll do it," I
replied to her. She smiled and looked up at Quinn, who turned and
walked out.
About three hours later, I walked out of the
house and looked at Quinn, who was standing against the car, with
his
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