The Original Sin

Chapter One





“He is definitely delicious in bed,” I unabashedly confided as I readjusted my sunglasses on my nose and laid back on the lounger.

I was having an enjoyable dream about hot summer days, swimming pools, and cold margaritas. Trey, Nikki and I were lounging out by Archer’s massive pool in our finest swimwear, girl-talking, when abruptly the scenery started to morph and my pleasant company faded away.

I suddenly found myself back in the bleakly lit, dank basement where Amun took me when he kidnapped me just a few weeks ago. My heart pounded rapidly in my chest as I fearfully absorbed my surroundings. The room was just as I remembered it; my chains were tight, cold and unforgiving around my wrists and the drops of water from the metal spigot in the wall dripped slowly, a counterpoint to my wildly beating heart.

I tugged on my confines in a desperate attempt to free myself. As before I was chained to the ceiling, my arms splayed apart. Please, no…not again, I silently whimpered as I tugged harder.

Sadly, these dreams were nothing new to me. I’d been having them almost nightly since my abduction. In the dreams I had, I was always alone; Amun and Martin were blissfully absent, thank God.

I silently willed myself to remain calm as I took a few deep breaths. I knew from experience that these dreams never lasted long.

Only a few minutes had passed when I heard the telltale creak of the basement door opening. My eyes immediately flew to the stairs and I watched in horror as Amun, the father of all vampires and my former torturer, slowly descended.

Panic stricken I began to cry. “You’re not real,” I stumbled aloud in between sobs as I frantically jerked on the cold confines of my chains. Fear coursed through me as he came closer, a look of absolute calm on his face.

“I assure you child, I am very real,” he spoke quietly as he came to a stop in front of me.

I shut my eyes tightly and shook my head. Please God, just let me wake up. Please.

“What did I tell you about your god, Skye?” he gently admonished as I bravely opened my eyes, meeting his. He slowly lifted one hand and wiped the tears from my left cheek. “He does not exist.”

“My God is real, it’s you that isn’t. This is just a dream…a really f*cked up one I’ll admit, but a dream nonetheless. I’ll wake up soon and you’ll just be a distant memory,” I breathed fearfully.

He seemed to ignore my words as he reached up his hand and thoughtfully lifted a long lock of my bright auburn hair. He tilted his head as he studied me and then delicately trailed one of his fingers across my clavicle and down my shoulder. I shivered in revulsion and tried to pull away unsuccessfully.

“This ensemble is inappropriate,” he said of my neon yellow bikini, eyeing it with distaste.

I looked down at my chest and watched in amazement as I was suddenly in a flowing, white Grecian-style dress. Amun adjusted the gathered fabric at my left shoulder and smoothed the lightweight linen down my hip. He slowly lifted his hand to touch my hair again and this time it disappeared from its usual resting place and swept itself into an up-do.

I watched warily as Amun took a step back and admired his handiwork. “You look stunning,” he said matter-of-factly. “A look fit for a queen.”

“I am not your queen,” my brow furrowed as I whispered. His respectful treatment confused me. This was drastically different from our real time spent together in this same basement a few weeks ago. I couldn’t figure out what my subconscious was trying to do. The real Amun would never be this nice to me.

“One day you will not hate me,” he smirked as he turned his back to me. I saw a high-backed wooden chair appear out of nowhere as he gingerly took a seat upon it, facing me. I watched as he crossed his legs and brought his templed fingers to his lips. He gazed at me thoughtfully.

“Don’t count on it,” I huffed as I tugged on the cold chains at my wrists. My tears had slowed and were starting to dry tightly on my cheeks. “Why the hell am I even dreaming about you? I don’t understand. And, why the hell is my subconscious trying to paint you as some kind of nice guy? You’re not nice. You’re a monster who tortured me mercilessly for days!”

He touched one hand to his chest and feigned surprised innocence. “Me? I did not torture you. I merely contained you for my needs.”

“You hit me, you sick son of a bitch!” I spat, jerking quickly on my chains with the rage I felt. “You sliced me open and nearly bled me out in the middle of the street, ripped my hair out along with a piece of my scalp, kept me chained to a pipe for days and worst of all…worst of all you allowed Martin to feed from me.”

He suddenly flashed in front of me and took a moment to inspect my forearm, head, and face. “Yes, about that,” Amun purred. “It’s fascinating. How are there no marks upon your body? How have you completely healed from your wounds? Even your scalp has healed.”

I roughly jerked my face out of his hands and leaned back away from him as far as I could. “If you think I’m telling you anything, you’ve lost your damn mind.” WAKE UP! I silently screamed to myself.

He leaned back and studied me impassively. “I control you here, child. I decide when to allow you to awaken. There is nothing you can do.”

“That’s bullshit. This is my dream and you are just my subconscious trying to piss me off or something. You are nothing but a bad memory. The real Amun is probably hiding in a hole somewhere too afraid to show his pathetic face because he knows The Faithful are working hard to find him and put an end to his useless life.”

“You break my heart,” he sighed and in a very modern show of emotion, sarcastically rolled his eyes. “I am tens of thousands of years old. You actually think they have a chance in Hades of finding me? I will find and kill all of Cináed’s line and they can do nothing to stop me.” Amun stepped closer to me and tenderly stroked my left cheek. His touch felt icy and smooth. “I will have my revenge child. There is nothing anyone can do to dissuade me from my mission. I lay chained in that tomb for well over a thousand years thinking of nothing but killing Cináed. Since his body has long been ash, I will kill his blood. Retribution will be mine.”

My bottom lip quivered as I started to realize that this wasn’t just an ordinary dream. My panicked eyes once again swept the room looking for any signs that would tell me this was all in my sleeping head.

“I told you this was real,” Amun whispered as he stepped back to his chair.

My heartbeat thundered in my chest, my eyes wide with panic. I shook my head slowly. “No. I don’t believe you.”

“It’s of no consequence,” he flicked his wrist disinterestedly as he sat back down. “Now tell me, how are you?”

I swallowed thickly and blinked at him, utterly at a loss for words.

“How are you adjusting?”

“A-Adjusting? Adjusting to what? I…I have no idea what you are talking about,” I swallowed again.

Amun flashed to his feet and distractedly scanned the ceiling. “There is no more time,” he sighed, looking back at me, a displeased look upon his face. “We will meet again my child.” He and the room began to fade.





*****





Someone had a firm grip on my shoulders and was roughly shaking me. My eyes flew open and Archer Rhys, my boss/crush/temporary roommate/vampire maker to my current boyfriend was hovering over me, his hands still firmly grasping my shoulders. His eyes immediately softened from their panicked look into one of relief.

“What are you doing?” I groaned, confused as I tried to sit up.

Archer slid his hands down my arms and stood up. “We couldn’t wake you.”

“What?” I looked around to see Jameson sitting on the white chaise lounge by the bed, his eyes wide with unmasked distress.

“You were thrashing in your sleep, mumbling over and over the word ‘No’ and I just spent the last five minutes trying to wake you up before I gave up and got Archer,” he explained, his brow furrowed.

“Are you okay?” Archer asked worriedly, crossing his arms over his broad chest and looking down at me.

I sat up and shook my head to clear the sleep, ran my fingers through my long hair and sighed. “Um…yeah. I’m fine. It was just a dream I guess.”

Archer looked at me skeptically and pursed his lips. “Can you remember your dream?”

I looked down at my clutched hands and chewed on the inside of my bottom lip. “No,” I lied.

“Has this ever happened to her before?” Archer addressed Jameson.

“Not to my knowledge,” he answered, his voice filled with concern. “She’s talked in her sleep and cried out a few times, but nothing like this.”

“Archer, I’m fine,” I sighed. “Really.”

He turned back to me and sat down on the edge of my bed. I clutched my covers tighter and met his worried eyes with my wary ones. “I thought the nightmares had subsided.”

I looked over at Jameson accusatorily and he at least had the couth to appear ashamed of breaking my confidence. Since Jameson and I were dating, he slept with me some nights in my downstairs bedroom at Archer’s house. I had no choice but to confide in him after he witnessed my first nightmare starring the dank east Austin basement soon after Jameson, Archer, and Aoife freed me from that hell.

I narrowed my eyes at Jameson, shook my head in disbelief then turned back to Archer. “You both need to chill out. It’s not a big deal, really. I’m fine.”

Archer ran his long fingers through his chestnut hair and sighed, turning to Jameson. He addressed him quietly in rapid Irish Gaelic. I looked back and forth between them a few times until finally I had had enough of being left out of the conversation.

“You know that’s just plain rude,” I grumbled, crossing my arms over my chest. “If you’re going to talk in front of me, you could at least have the decency to use English please, gentlemen.”

Jameson chuckled and looked at Archer again. Archer nodded his head once and Jameson turned back to me. “Archer was just telling me that when he was trying to wake you he couldn’t get a read on your mind.” I frowned at Archer as Jameson continued. Archer knew I didn’t like him peering into my mind. “He was saying that it felt like something was trying to keep him out.”

“The thing trying to keep you out was me, you damn busybody,” I scoffed, shaking my head. “You know how much I hate that. Anyway, you said it yourself that you can’t read my mind all of the time.”

Archer smirked and leaned over, placing a swift kiss my forehead. “We just worry about you Skye. That’s all. You should really talk to someone about your dreams though. Would you like me to make an appointment with a psychologist for you? Some therapy might be beneficial; you were kidnapped and tortured, after all. There are discreet professionals out there that are friends to our community. You would be able to speak freely with them.”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” I smiled tightly. “They’re just silly dreams. I’m all right, guys. Stop worrying so much, geez.”

“Have it your way,” Archer smiled and winked at me before getting up and strolling to the door. “Gunnar will be delivering your breakfast shortly, so I suggest you get a move on. Everyone is waiting.”

I smiled and thanked him as he walked out the door. Ever since I was rescued everyone had been making more of an attempt to be a so-called family. Every morning we sat and had breakfast together at the kitchen table. It took some adjusting at first; you know, because of the whole drinking blood thing while I sat there trying to eat my toast, but it worked and I really enjoyed it and the conversations. Every night when we came home from the club we’d do the same thing. They were kind of like the brothers and sisters I never had. I didn’t think I’d be enjoying my stay here as much as I was. After all, I was forced at first to live in a house full of vampires against my will. The threat of Amun coming back was still strong, so for Archer and Jameson’s piece of mind, I agreed to stay here until he was either caught or dead. But when I did, I didn’t think it was going to take The Faithful as long as it had to find him. It had already been three weeks and they always seemed to be a step behind Amun, Jameson confided in me.

I stood up out of bed and stepped the few feet over to Jameson. I leaned down and planted a chaste kiss on his soft lips. “You need to learn to keep these shut, baby,” I smirked, momentarily displeased with him for breaking my confidence and telling Archer about my nightmares. “Now scoot. I need to take a quick shower. I’ll meet you out there.” I turned and made my way into the adjoining bathroom and spent the next ten minutes soaking up as much hot water as I could, desperately trying to drive away the remaining chill from my terrifying nightmare.