Amare: Bloodstreams

By J Gaines

A prequel to Amare: Bloodlines.
Amias is a foster child who has never met his biological parents. When he one day gets into trouble at school he suddenly finds himself in desperate need. It’s then he discovers something amazing about himself… something that has the potential to change his life forever.  
Now an adult, Amias is once again confronted with the truth about his abilities and forced to fight to protect himself. At the same time he must try to save a world that is completely unaware of the terrifying secrets that threaten it. Unable to know who he can trust, he has no choice but to learn all about his abilities so that he can control them and use them to realise his unique potential as the most powerful of his kind. Amias must believe in himself and what makes him strong… his love. 
Will he manage it, or are the odds stacked too highly against him?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Troubador Publishing Ltd
• Release date: Dec 6, 2018
• ISBN: 9781785897849

Book preview

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Acknowledgements

‘Mastering others is strength. Mastering yourself is true power.’

- Lao Tzu

Prologue

As he was dragged through the small living room he looked pleadingly at his brother. His brother looked back at him sadly, but remained sitting on the white imitation leather couch where they’d been watching football together a few minutes ago.

The boy’s foster father threw him into the kitchen and slammed the door shut behind them. The force caused him to pitch forward and he fell heavily into the cheap, pine kitchen table, knocking over a half-eaten birthday cake and almost falling on top of it. He clenched his teeth in anger and got up, keeping his eyes on the fat man stood opposite him.

He watched as beads of sweat trickled down from his foster father’s greasy hair and ran underneath his chin. He was alone with Shaun, and in the small kitchen with the windows shut and curtains drawn, he felt stifled and sick. He could still hear the TV and the crowd cheered loudly in response to something in the game.

His eyes left Shaun’s and he glanced down at his hands nervously, they were clenched into fists but steady. His thoughts turned to his brother. Previously, on occasions like this he’d wished he was with him so he wasn’t facing a beating alone, but this time he didn’t.

Maybe I’m growing up, he thought. He looked at the cake on the floor and felt the urge to kick it. He’d spent the last of his money on his own birthday cake and now it was ruined.

He watched as Shaun walked to the wooden kitchen table. He removed his numerous gold rings, slowly twisting them from his chubby fingers, taking his time and carefully placing them in a tidy line on the table next to an empty brandy glass. Next, he removed his cheap gold watch, his fingers carefully unhinging the clasp on his left hand and slipping his hand back through the watch as he caught it in his other hand and put it into his pocket before turning towards him. He wondered why his foster father didn’t also place his watch on the table.

Happy birthday, growled Shaun, Now you’ve woken me up, we can celebrate together.

*

Ten minutes later the boy sat on the floor propped against the oven holding his bruised stomach. His foster father stood over him breathing heavily and sneering. The boy sat still, blankly staring at the floor and deliberately trying to avoid eye contact.

A few moments passed which seemed agonisingly long for the boy. Finally, the man turned slowly towards the locked kitchen door, and leaned heavily against it as he struggled with the key. When the boy had first arrived at the house he had wondered why there was a lock on the kitchen door. It didn’t take him long to realise why there was a lock on every door in the house.

Blood was slowly trickling down from a gash in his forehead and began to run into his left eye causing his vision to blur. This was new, but for some reason not unwelcome to him. His foster father was usually very careful when it came to leaving marks and evidence of his handy work. The blood ran down to the corner of his mouth, and he considered the new taste as the door opened opposite him and he looked through.

His foster father stopped suddenly in the doorway in surprise. As the boy cocked his head, he managed to see past his foster father and realised why he’d stopped. In front of him was his brother, stood in the same defiant stance he had recently held. His fists were clenched and hot tears were rolling down his cheeks. Shaun laughed cruelly and walked through the door.

The door slammed shut behind him, and he winced as he heard his brother cry out.

Chapter 1

The children were huddled closely around Amias and were shouting excitedly. There was nothing more exciting to a group of eleven-year-olds than a fight. He glanced around him quickly and realised half of the school year had congregated to watch the spectacle. The word to meet at the lower sports field had spread around the school quickly. It was the secluded venue where most fights took place, and a school fight always drew a big crowd.

He turned back to Thomas just in time, and threw his arm up to block a wild punch. He threw one of his own back and struck him in the nose. He saw his eyes begin to water and a steady trickle of blood escape from his right nostril. Thomas wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve and a bright red stripe stained his white shirt. When he saw the blood he faltered slightly and stepped backwards into the crowd of children. They had formed a tight ring around them and he turned in surprise. Amias had been here before, and he knew Thomas hadn’t.

Seeing his chance, he charged his opponent and grabbed him by the arms in an attempt to wrestle him to the floor. He could hear his friend Aaron shouting his name as he hovered next to him at the front of the circle of students. However, Thomas was fighting back, and Amias struggled to gain an advantage. They stood locked in a stalemate for a few moments when Amias began to feel his arms shake. Thomas was bigger than him and was using his weight advantage to push him backwards. Amias lost his footing, as he desperately attempted to remain on his feet.

Amias could feel the tide turning and an impulse to wriggle free and run away flashed into his mind. As he struggled to regain the advantage he suddenly felt strange, and a dizziness began to fill his head and drown out the shouts from the children. Before he realised what he was doing, he twisted his body to the side, holding on to Thomas’s shirt, he picked him up and threw him over his hip and onto the grass. He groaned in pain and Amias was on top of him in an instant; he straddled his chest and put his knees on his arms so he was trapped helplessly underneath him. Amias looked down at him but was suddenly unsure of what to do next; Thomas looked up in shock, unsure of how Amias had managed to throw him.

Give up?

Thomas struggled to free himself, so Amias slapped him lightly across the face and repeated himself.

Give up?

Thomas looked up at him in submission and relaxed, but before he could answer Aaron ran from out of the crowd and kicked Thomas viciously in his side. Thomas cried out and Amias fell back in surprise; he rolled aside as Aaron continued to launch kick after kick into his stomach and back. Some of the children stopped in shock at the ferociousness of the attack, and Amias jumped to his feet and pulled Aaron aside.

Aaron stop it…. he’s done.

Aaron smiled back at him. He is now. Come on, let’s get out of here.

They both turned to make their exit as the crowd suddenly dispersed. They heard shouts of alarm from the other children, and Amias turned to see a man in a police uniform running towards him. He turned to run but the police officer was already too close and grabbed his arm tightly, pulling him towards him, and holding him expertly so he couldn’t escape. He shouted at Aaron to run as he wrestled to free himself. Thomas had picked himself up quickly and was already running towards a gap in the bushes which circled the school field.

Aaron’s eyes were wide with shock but he didn’t run. Amias could see he was caught between the choice of trying to help him, or escape. His indecision cost him dearly as another police officer emerged from the evaporating crowd of children. The officer took hold of both of his arms as he suddenly came to life and began to try and fight his way free. He screamed as he kicked out wildly and the officer was left with no choice but to push him to the floor and restrain him. Amias watched as Aaron was lifted off the floor and carried away. He lay still and resisted the urge to fight against the police officer who held him.

Let me go!

I will. You just need to calm down so we can talk. The officer’s voice was calm and Amias sensed a kindness in it.

OK… I’m calm, he managed through gritted teeth.

The officer slowly released his tight grip and turned him around so they were facing each other.

My name’s Toby, what’s yours? He decided it was better not to tell him his name and kept silent.

Toby smiled, OK. What happened here, why were you fighting?

Amias hesitated, considering his words carefully, He was picking on my friend. I was sticking up for him.

Was it your friend who was kicking the other boy? If so, it didn’t look like he needed you to stick up for him.

Amias shrugged but didn’t reply. He could see where this was going.

What’s your friend’s name?

Amias looked the officer in the eyes and shrugged again.

OK, where do you live? You might as well tell me or I’m going to have to take you back to the station and we’ll find out there. I’m sure your friend isn’t showing you the same loyalty you’ve showed him.

Amias clenched his jaw and sighed, Seventy-three Green Lane.

OK. And are your parent’s home?

Amias dropped his eyes, They’re my foster parents… I think one of them will be home. He knew which one.

OK Amias, let’s go. You’re going to get a ride in our police car.

*

Amias sat on the fence, watching the rest of his fellow students leaving school excitedly. He had his hood drawn over his head even though it was a hot September afternoon. Underneath his hood he wore headphones which covered his ears and he kept his head bowed as he nodded in time to the music.

It was now Friday, two days since the fight, and he’d received strict instructions from his foster parents to wait for his brother and walk home with him. He knew things could have been worse considering the police had been called, but being taken home in a police car hadn’t gone down well with Jane and Lewis.

He raised his eyes and watched from his seat on the gate as his brother approached. Blaise was walking along the path which wound its way through the school sports field flanked by football and rugby pitches. The path led to a coach park and a car pick-up point which was circled by houses and led into crowded, dense housing estates. As it was a warm day for the time of year, Blaise and some of the other kids had their coats slung over their shoulders. They squinted into the bright setting sun behind him as they approached where he sat waiting.

As Blaise walked he laughed with the boys and flirted with the girls. His school friends were with him, but Blaise was never in one place for long. At first, he was mingling between four girls, arms casually draped around their shoulders or holding their hands as he criss-crossed between them. Next, he was walking backwards in front of his friends, causing them to laugh and high-fiving them. He then spotted two, pretty, older girls not wearing school uniform and eagerly approached them. Amias watched with a smile and assumed they were sixth form students who already knew him, as the girls giggled.

He and Blaise had been told they were similar in looks although neither could see it, and they often wondered whether they were actually brothers. Both were handsome but Blaise had dark, black straight hair and Amias’s was blonde-brown and curly. Blaise had a darker complexion, but they shared the same athletic slim build. They were both were very tall for their age, although Blaise still wasn’t much taller than Amias, even though there was a four-year age gap between them.

As Blaise approached, Amias was aware he wasn’t the only person watching him. Two older boys, also not wearing uniforms, were sat on the fence watching intently as Blaise entertained the two older girls. Amias watched them and was unsure if they were also sixth-form students as they looked older; both were of large build and appeared to Amias to be agitated. They jumped down from the fence as the girls and Blaise approached.

Who’s this? said the larger of the two boys in a menacing tone, his eyes fixed firmly on Blaise.

Blaise removed his arm from one of the girls and moved back behind them. Amias could tell he wasn’t scared, but Blaise wasn’t one to provoke a situation and he thought he was probably considering whether he could catch up with the four girls he’d originally been talking to.

He’s a friend, Jack, replied the pretty girl, Blaise had just removed his arm from, in a tone that both tried to diffuse the situation and close the subject.

Hey! What’s your name? asked Jack, motioning to Blaise.

It’s Blaise, the pretty girl answered for him.

Blaise? replied Jack, What kind of name is that?

It’s a French name, retorted the girl in defence of Blaise, and in a slower more condescending tone, From France.

Make’s sense, sounds like a ladies shaving product, countered Jack as he moved forward slowly, pushing aside the girl’s outstretched arm and sneering at his friend.

Blaise watched as the other boy circled around to flank the advancing Jack. He glanced around nervously looking for the friends he’d been walking with, but they had their backs to him, walking away and unaware of what was happening.

Jack was only a little taller than Blaise, but although he was a few years older, he dwarfed him in build. He had dark, black hair similar to Blaise, and Amias considered that girls would think he was handsome, and struggled to see why he would be threatened by Blaise.

The girl turned as Jack passed her, Please Jack, I need to get home, if you don’t come now I’m walking with Sarah. She motioned to her friend and looked pleadingly at Blaise.

Why don’t you listen to Carly, Jack, you’re her boyfriend right? Blaise tried to sound as friendly as possible and held out his hand.

I am her boyfriend, yeah, replied Jack with a rising anger in his tone, and ignoring Blaise’s outstretched hand.

Blaise knew the situation was past the point of saving, and threw a resigned look towards Carly.

Don’t look at her, look at me, barked Jack suddenly and venomously.

Blaise met Jack’s gaze but said nothing, and Amias could tell he was nervous. He’d watched from his perch on the school gate as the situation became more serious. Blaise could handle himself when it came to a fight, but against this boy Amias felt he was seriously outmatched. Whilst they’d been talking he had slowly made his way forward unseen, close to where the group stood. He pulled his hood down and removed his headphones, placing them carefully in his bag. He felt a fear growing as he prowled forwards, slowly.

As Jack suddenly blustered forward towards Blaise, Amias chose his moment and ran in between the two girls and with outstretched arms, embraced him. Jack stopped in surprise, not sure what was happening. Amias could tell Blaise was also surprised, not only that he was there, but that he was embracing him. Although they were close, physical displays of affection were very unusual, if not unheard of.

This your girlfriend? asked Jack as he nodded his head towards Amias with a mocking smile.

He’s my little brother, replied Blaise, I’m meeting him to walk him home. Start walking without me Amias, continued Blaise, but as he did so he pinched Amias lightly on his side as he embraced him.

Amias released Blaise, but stood looking at him. Jane said that we have to walk home together, or we’re both grounded.

Jack and his friend erupted with laughter, capitalising on their chance to ridicule Blaise in front of the girls. Yeah, run home to your mummy Blaise, I’m sure your milk and cookies are waiting for you.

The two boys continued to laugh as Blaise pushed him in the back encouraging him to start moving. He allowed himself to be guided by Blaise and walked in front of him. He glanced nervously from left to right as he walked quickly past the older boys. As he walked he thought he noticed a man standing at the edge of the field by a tree close to the school. He looked back quickly hopeful it was a teacher, but the man was gone.

They reached the school gates that led into the car park and a surrounding housing estate almost thirty feet away, when Jack shouted after Blaise, I see you with your arm around Carly again, and I’ll break it.

They both turned and faced the group who were still standing where they’d left them. Blaise turned back around but as he did, Amias raised his right arm and extended his middle finger in the direction of the boys. His action was this time definitely more of a surprise to the two older boys than it was to Blaise.

Run, shouted Blaise, urgently. But he was already turning on his heels and sprinting towards an alleyway leading into the housing estate. Blaise had time to glance back and see the two boys running towards them, and then turned and followed Amias across the car park and down the alley.

When he and Blaise were sure they’d lost their pursuers they slowed to a nervous walk, side by side and silent as they caught their breath. They had found their way blindly through the numerous paths and alleyways out to a quiet country road with houses on one side and fields on the other. The road had no path, so they walked in the middle of it avoiding the muddy grass verge. They found themselves far off course from their shortest route home, but neither was overly concerned, relieved that they had escaped what they both knew could have been a severe beating.

It had been a while since they’d experienced a situation similar to what had just occurred, but not the first time. Blaise’s attention from and for girls, and Amias’s ability to find trouble of numerous sorts had resulted in both giving thanks they were fast on their feet.

Blaise broke the silence first with a dry chuckle, That was close, you shouldn’t have done that, those guys are the real deal.

Amias looked at Blaise and laughed anxiously, turning his head to the floor, as he kicked stones into the brook which separated the grass verge and the bush surrounding the fields. I know you’ve been going to that MMN gym or whatever it’s called, but I don’t think it would have helped you bro.

It’s MMA… Mixed Martial Arts, replied Amias indignantly.

Blaise continued, Whatever. They’re upper six formers, serious shit apparently, I’ve seen them kick other boys’ asses, young and old. They go to that boxing club by the river. Jack’s also been sent down for assault already.

What could I do? replied Amias. If I hadn’t come along and saved you, you’d have got beaten up in front of your girlfriends, he added with a wry smile.

Blaise laughed loudly, Yeah, thanks brother, I almost felt you meant that cuddle. He paused and then added, I keep hearing you up and about in the middle of the night, are you hanging around outside of my room hoping for snuggles?

This time Amias laughed quietly, but didn’t look up or respond and continued to concentrate on kicking stones into the shallow water of the brook. He felt there was a hidden question in his brother’s joke, and made a personal note that his sleeping problems hadn’t gone unnoticed.

I’ve been having these dreams, he suddenly muttered.

What? replied Blaise, who’d become suddenly distracted.

Amias didn’t reply and went back to looking for stones to kick. Blaise seemingly acknowledged his reluctance to explain and untactfully changed the subject. What do you think we’ll have for tea tonight? I hope Jane makes one of her curries.

Amias shrugged, indifferent to what they were going to have for dinner. He was still bristling a little from Blaise’s previous comment and was wondering what else he was aware of. Recently strange things had been happening to him, especially at night. He was unsure if they were normal, or whether he should be telling someone about them. His dreams were vivid and he was having a disturbing, recurring dream most nights. He was close to his brother, but he found it hard to talk about anything personal and especially if it was something physical. His brother would almost definitely show concern, and possibly even help him understand it, but he was also sure he would remember them for future ridicule and banter. He definitely wasn’t going to tell him he was having bad dreams.

They walked in silence, and Amias could see it beginning to anger Blaise as his questions became more direct. Are you staying out of trouble at school? We’re on to a good thing with Jane and Lewis, they’re the best foster parents we’ve had in a long time and I don’t want you messing it up.

They’re OK, he replied.

OK? said Blaise, angrily, Big house, full fridge, good food and they give us anything we ask for. He continued, You could be more grateful and try harder to get on with them, Jane especially. She’s really making an effort to be friends with you.

OK. I’ll try harder, Amias muttered.

And you need to keep away from that kid Aaron.

Amias cut him off mid-sentence, I will.

And no more trouble with the police, Blaise persisted.

OK, replied Amias, quietly.

He could tell Blaise was taken aback by the ease of his agreement, and was temporarily lost for words. He could also feel Blaise watching him as they walked, but said nothing else and made no further attempt at conversation on their journey home. He and Blaise didn’t need to discuss whether they’d share the events which had taken place after school with their foster parents. As understanding as Blaise felt they could be, he was sure it would only unsettle things. Jane and Lewis were well aware of the two boys troubled past, and they were desperately trying their best to ensure history didn’t repeat itself.

They ate dinner together, and Blaise was happy as Jane had made a curry for them. Amias still felt uncomfortable with the dinner routine of sitting together in a dining room with no TV, and actually being expected to exchange conversation. He always felt the anxiety of whether he should make conversation or not, but Blaise didn’t share his feelings on this. He was happy to share with them, concentrating on his sporting achievements of the day, and accompanying them with amusing anecdotes of how he’d charmed his maths teacher into allowing him extra time on his homework.

Amias sat quietly and avoided the watching eyes of his foster mother.

After dinner, Amias was in his room lying on his bed listening to music with his headphones on. His headphones were his most valued possession, he took them everywhere with him and sometimes wished he could put them on in class and drown out his teachers. Jane and Lewis had given them to him as a present for his most recent birthday.

Over the heavy bass of the track he was listening to he heard a knock at his door. At first he ignored it, aware it must be one of his foster parents because Blaise would have just entered. Another house rule was no locks on bedroom doors, this made him as uncomfortable as the dinner rules did.

There was another knock, this time louder. He removed his headphones and sat up.

Come in.

Jane entered the room tactfully and slowly, presumably in an attempt to give him time to make himself presentable, should he need it. Jane was thirty-eight and although she was a reasonably young foster mother, she seemed to him to be much older than her age.

Hello, Jane greeted him as if it was the first time she’d seen him that night. Her apparent awkwardness made him cringe.

Hey, he replied.

Jane paused, and for a hopeful instant he thought she might walk back out of the room without any further conversation. You were quiet at dinner? she finally managed as she sat down without being asked.

I wanted to check everything was OK. There was another awkward pause as he considered if this was a question or not. The prolonged silence confirmed it was.

Yes, sure, another pause, I’m OK, he replied.

Good! Because, you know you can talk to Lewis and I about anything that’s troubling you?

He wondered if Jane was finding this as uncomfortable as he was. I know, everything’s really OK.

OK, good, she paused again. It’s just, you don’t really talk to anyone except Blaise, and we’ve heard you – in the middle of the night. Is everything OK?

He wondered how many OKs they could use in this conversation. Yes, everything is fine, I’ve just had trouble sleeping since I’ve started school, he lied.

OK, that’s good, we weren’t sure if it was boy things that were keeping you up? she added with a nervous laugh.

He again considered if this was a question, and what she was referring to. He also wished the ground would open and swallow him. No. Sorry, I’ll try to be quieter if I wake up again.

Jane paused again, Good, you know we worry about you and we just want you to be happy.

I’m OK, I promise.

Long after Jane had left his room Amias remained on his bed. He still had his headphones on, and he checked his phone habitually as he tried desperately to stay awake. It was one-forty-five in the morning, and he rubbed his fists into his eyes as he struggled to keep them open. Despite his efforts to fight the impending sleep he could feel surrounding his body, his eyelids became heavier by the second and they flickered as they slowly closed.

*

He opened his eyes and found himself in a dimly lit room. He looked around at the sparse, old furniture and white imitation leather couch. The windows were covered with cardboard, which had been taped to the window frames to keep out the light. He recognised the room and felt a feeling of despair as he looked towards a white wooden door. For some reason it filled him with dread and he turned to run and escape it. As he reached another door he stopped and turned back to the white door. He listened intently and could hear crying from behind it.

Inside his despair turned to acute fear, and he turned away from the door again and looked down at his trembling hands. The cries became louder as did the slapping noise and then suddenly stopped. He turned around and walked slowly towards the white door trying to resist every part of him that was telling him to run and hide.

Suddenly, he felt a strange sensation of something running slowly down his forehead and raised his still trembling hand to his head. He pulled his hand away and held it close to his face, and saw dark red, oily blood on his fingers. He rubbed his thumb and his fingers together and wondered why he was bleeding. As he looked at the blood on his fingers, the blood from his forehead continued to run in a steady