Blood Rose (The Undying Love Collection Book 1) by A.D. Brazeau

Author:A.D. Brazeau [Brazeau, A.D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Brontide Press
Published: 2019-12-03T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Do not be afraid; our fate

Cannot be taken from us; it is a gift.

Dante Alighieri, Inferno

Hawthorne

As we walked up to the front door, I remembered the electrical charge that had come from beyond the library window. Was this another strange thing about this house or was there a real explanation? Annabelle’s comment about lightning strikes made little sense. Lightning didn’t strike out of nowhere. There was no storm passing overhead, or anything else that seemed to go on in the atmosphere tonight.

Rather than go back inside, I broke off from Annabelle to investigate on my own. I may be capable of unraveling the mystery where they could not. These strange housemates seemed a little stuck in the past, especially Annabelle. Instead of seeing something near the window that would help me make sense of the rogue electricity, what I saw astounded me even further. A rose bush sat there. I called it a bush, but what it was, was a vine. A single vine with a single rose. The vine was thick, jutting up through a crack in the porch's board. It stood at about the same height I did.

The most curious part wasn’t any of this, it was the single rose in full bloom, so red, it was almost black. I squinted my eyes to make sure of what I was seeing. All the petals were the same deep color of merlot, except one. Half of this petal was like snow. Only, it didn’t appear to be remaining lily white for long. The deep red was bleeding with painstaking slowness into the creaminess of the pure petal. Veins of red-black were invading the white like the gray swirls on a marble floor.

My hand reached out impulsively to touch this phenomenon. As my hand stretched toward the flower, Annabelle screamed behind me. An unseen explosion rocked me backward. One second, the impact knocked the wind out of me, the next everything went black.

We spun in circles around the library. Books flew by in a blur, the varied colors of the bindings blending into one long rainbow. Annabelle was in my arms, her wine-colored dress fluttering behind her as we danced.

I held her; my hand pressed into her firm back. She was beautiful. Her dark, chestnut hair tumbled around her smooth shoulders, bouncing with our movements. Eyes, clear and bright, gazed into mine.

I pulled up short, stopping us in mid-step. Her hand was released, but not her waist. I ran my index finger along her cheek. The skin was creamy, smooth. She looked every bit of eighteen and not a day older.

“What happened to you?” I whispered, afraid to break the spell by speaking too loudly.

“You happened.” Her breath against my lips was sugar and honey.

I moved my hand into her hair. Annabelle reached up, pulling my face even closer. When our mouths touched, the room spun, even though we were standing still.

The next thing I knew, I was drifting on a cloud. My eyes fluttered open, and I realized I wasn’t floating in the heavens, but lying on a feather bed in a dark room.

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