Only Time Runs with Blood: Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Smoke and Mirrors

She woke up to a blazing sun pouring through the dirty windows. She was tucked underneath a black comforter, her head rested precariously upon a soft black pillow. She felt a wisp of cool air patter at her face. It was soothing in the heat, but something was off about it. Something was, inhuman, about it. She bolted up right, groping for her wand, but she couldn't find it. A woman screamed and the cool air flew past her again. She looked around franticly. A tray full of food was scattered on the floor, and a translucent blue tinted women was cowering in the doorway.
"I'm so sorry My Lady; I didn't mean to startle you. I was just bringing in you breakfast and cleaning up. I'm assigned to this room, so therefore I'm assigned to you. Aman came by last night to drop some clothes and things off, but he went back out just before dawn and was bring more back. I suppose he will be back by tonite, seeing as he can't be out by day, because you know, Vampire and all. But he will be ba..." She jabbered on, but quickly snapped her mouth shut at the look Paris gave her.
"Who are you?"
"Oh! Excuse me, how rude! I am Sandra Luko, ghost maid of this room. I died in here thirty years ago, that's what you get for being with a Vampire I suppose, there was always that unfortunate thing looming above us. Me being a warlock and him a bloodsucking fool, well at least he didn't kill me sooner. Too bad though, killed our child, of course neither of us knew about that until after I was dead," she babbled
"Sandra."
"It was a boy I found out, cute kid he would have been. I think I would have named him Luke, because I would have married my Vampire, but he killed me... But if he asked I would have changed my name so my child wouldn't have been Luke Luko,"
"Sandra."
"That would have a funny little name, Luke Luko, wouldn't it. I just can't understand why it took it so long to ask, he should have done it that first night, I just knew we were meant to be and everything,"
"Sandra! Shut Up!"
"Oh gosh, I'm sorry! I just talk so much. No one has lived in here for so long. I haven’t been able to talk to anyone! So I just keep going on, because it feels so good to talk to someone. I mean have you ever gone just a day without talking? I don't think so, now do that for twenty years. See, he didn't even come visit. He doesn't know I'm stuck like this. And then you came in, and my little Aman followed you. He's looking just as good as ever, you know. Still keeping his youth and ev..."
"Aman? Aman's the one that killed you?" Paris cut across.
"Yes, he didn't mean to. He warned me that if we tried, he could loose control. I didn't believe him or anything."
"Sandra, I just needed a yes or no. I'm not here to talk to you. When Aman gets back I'll leave him in here to speak with you. Just stop talking."
"Yes ma'am! I'll go get you another tray!" Her eyes were shinning as brightly as stars as she walked out the door, and slammed it in excitement.
Paris stood, rubbed her eyes, and looked around for her wand. She found it sitting in a small glass case next to her flowers. It was shiny and sleek; waxed. She walked over and lifted it, letting it slowly tumble through her fingers. She loved the feeling her wand gave her, the feeling of pure power pulsing at her finger tips, the feeling of blackthorn wood and thinly sliced dragon scale core. She placed it back in the glass and turned toward her closet. She popped it open to find her entire wardrobe tucked neatly inside. She smiled, “He’s not completely useless.” She began rifling around looking for something to wear, and settled on an all black entourage of a tight lace shirt under a vest, skinny jeans, and knee high combat boots. She picked up the clothes and walked toward the door she assumed was the bathroom; she was right-- Only not really.
The once lavish bathroom was not only a dirty, clogged toilet, a broken sludge filled sink, and a claw foot tub that was missing a foot. One side of the ceiling had caved in to the tub and completely ripped it in half. The tile was cracked and missing in places and even the walls that had once been filled with semi-precious stones were crumbling and had holes from where the stones had been ripped out. There was a powder mirror with two missing legs shoved against a far corner, and it’s chair laying on its back in a newer shower. Paris stared in horror at the state in which she was supposed to live. She quickly strode out of the room, dropped her clothes on the bed and grabbed her wand. “Clensio!” She yelled, and pointed it at the open restroom door. Just like her room, things flew up in the air, the ceiling returned to its former position, the tub connected itself, the sink drained the sludge, the toilet returned to its former glory, the walls rebuilt (Except the stones were still missing.), the tile waxed and polished itself until it was all clean again, and the powder mirror and chair slide into place all fixed up. Suddenly a wave of nausea hit her and she fell to the ground. She rolled on the cool stone floor of her bed room while her head burned, threatening to explode. The pain snaked its way into paralyzing her body until all she could do was squeeze her eyes, face-down on the floor. She faintly heard someone open the door and the noise of another tray clattering to the ground, but then it all rushed together. There were voices, and hands touching her. There were faces, but they made no sense. There were hooves and feet bluster about her on the stone. All the noise made her head feel as if it was going to tear apart. Something was wrong, desperately wrong. This had never happened before, ever since that day, that fateful day, she had always had a problem with magic. A little headache here and there, but nothing like this horror...


Five Years Before: She lay in bed, sweat clung to every pore and slid down to splash on her soaked sheets. Her chest felt heavy, like something had been sitting on it. She had another nightmare, this one more intense then the last. She felt as if some part of her was missing, but she couldn’t put her finger on what. She heard a noise to her right and snapped her head in the direction, just in time to see a white wisp of hair fly out of the window. A Mara. She thought. A night-mare.
‘Maras are parasites who feed on the nightmares of a person by sitting on their chest, feed to long or too much on one person; well it could kill you, or worse: Steal your soul. The only way to get that back is to kill the Mara, which is very tricky. There’s only one spell we Earth Protectors know of; the happiness spell.’ Her Daddy once told her when she began her magical training. She had met a Mara at her school in Southern Nevada, a beautiful girl by the name of Alicia. She had always had a grudge against Paris, for some unknown reason, but she was perpetually whispering about how good her nightmares tasted. “Shit” Paris muttered, wiping the sweat from her head. That was the missing piece, her soul was gone, and she was going to have to get it back from the damn Mara.
The next day at school she slung her backpack over her shoulder, and confidently strode through the throng of boys surrounding the Mara.
“Alicia, we need to talk. Now.” She barked.
Alicia looked at her with her pretty blue eyes and batted them innocently. “About what, Freak?” She seemed to have an extra healthy glow about her this morning, something just below the surface that made her all the prettier.
“You know what.”
The boys around her laughed, but Alicia just waved her petite hand at them and stepped forward to meet Paris. “Anything you say can be said in front of my friends” She sneered.
“Very well. Your problem,” Paris cleared her throat, “I want my soul back, and you need to stop feeding on my dreams.”
This made the boys howl in amusement, but Alicia’s eyes were full of fury. She took a tiny step forward. She was shorter then Paris but her anger made her seem much taller. “Or else what, you’re going to do some Earth magic on me? Funny.”
“Yes I will.” And she raised her wand from underneath her black coat. “Gaudium!” A swell of brilliant white light shot from the tip. The boys had stopped everything and were standing with their mouths hanging open. The light hit the Mara full force. She fell backward on the pavement and split her head open, releasing a wave of ugly blue blood. Images of life and the happiness it creates pounded her. Her mouth opened to scream but all that came out were little silver wisps. One floated toward Paris, then shoved itself down her throat, and she felt alive once more. The magic became much stronger. Soon hundreds of souls were escaping the shriveling body of the Mara. And then, as suddenly as it started, it stopped. Alicia imploded into a little silver rock, which Paris picked up and shoved into her pocket, and the boys were looking at her with horror.
One boy stepped closer, “What. The Fuck. Are you?”
Paris just smiled, turned, and walked away, never to return to that place of horror.


She awoke with a frozen head. It had been so hot and hurt so bad, that this change in temperature was welcome. She felt clammy, and still had the faint ghost of pain consuming her, but she was much better. Her eyes fluttered open to the dark room, only lit by the eerie flicker of candle light coming from her left. She turned her head --wincing slightly as her neck kinked--and met the eyes of a stranger; someone who was obviously a wizard, but a young one, slightly older then herself and extremely powerful. He radiated the energy of an Elemental, controller of Fire, Earth, Wind, and Ice. Silky short blond hair with dazzling blue eyes and a exquisite jaw line meant he was probably something more mystical also. He looked into her eyes for a few more moments, causing a wild fluttering in her chest, and then stood.
“My lady,” He nodded his head, “My name is Shane Hembry resident protector and healer.” He grinned. His smile was amazing, a little lopsided, but it made his face that much cuter, “I fixed you up fairly well, you might be a little sore, but you should by okay. No more magic for a while. Promise me.”
She blinked at him. He is telling me what to do? She thought. “No promises. I’m fine; it just must be the change in homes I guess…” Okay, that was a lame excuse, but she didn’t care.
He must have seen the disagreement in her eyes, because he didn’t say anything just smiled knowingly and patted her hand. “Until you’re completely better, I’m coming here to monitor you, so at least the rest of the week. And every time you do magic, I’m going to be watching you. Understand?” She nodded. “Now sleep, that’s the best medicine.”
And she did.
The next time she woke was to the harsh, not so quite whisperings of two men. One she immediately recognized as Shane, and the other took her longer because she had only heard it once. Rowan she realized. Rowan was gaining pitch with his voice, something about her, something about a man.
“He came here to see her; I want to know who he is!” He whispered fiercely.
“She is sleeping now your highness, please do not wake her. She will tell you when she is ready.”
“No. You do not tell me what to do. I must speak with her right now. It is urgent!” His voice had raised to a shout, and Paris thought that she no longer needed to pretend to be asleep.
“Let him in, Shane,” She said, her voice cracking from sleep, “What is it you want Your Grace?”
“A man, silver eyes, black hair, came looking for you this morning around three. Called himself Brandon. Who is he?”
Brandon… Brandon… Where did she know that name? Then is hit her: Alicia. “A Mara I killed many years ago had a brother named Brandon.”
“Why has he come here?” Rowan stared at her with menacing eyes.
“I have no idea.” And she really didn’t.