BLOODLINES: Book Two of the INSTINCT Trilogy

By Alicia Brandt

Bloodlines
Book II of the INSTINCT Trilogy
----------
— The Fallen have a new leader, and the fate of mankind is in peril unless the missing chosen and the artefacts they yield can be found —
----------

Just before starting her college career, Siena, still haunted by Taylor's disappearance, makes another startling discovery about herself. By means unknown, she's come to wield a set of supernatural powers—manipulation, the means to heal others, and vivid visions—that leave her both scared and ecstatic while yearning for Zach, who seems to truly be gone forever. Across the globe in Istanbul, Maya sits in a hospital room as her aunt and only blood relative takes her final breaths. Her death will transcend Maya into a future that has already been preordained.
Meanwhile, Taylor is being held captive, now under the ward of the evil Grigori, and having already lost much of her memory, she runs the risk of indoctrination. Soon, it may be too late, if she forgets what side she's on.
When Zach returns to Siena, at last, he won't come bearing the news she hopes for. Instead, her guardian angel will only be fit to watch her from afar. The Holy Ones may bear the sole authority to keep them apart, but no one can quell their fated love . . . and hope shall spring eternal.
An ancient artifact claimed by the Fallen could soon spell disaster for everyone, but should the chosen find a way to get it back, humanity may be saved. The journey will place Siena in untold danger, and though she can't succeed alone, not everyone can be trusted.
Bloodlines is Volume II of the riveting INSTINCT Trilogy—a fusion of mystery, fantasy, and romance for the ages.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tablo Publishing
• Release date: Nov 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9781685831196

Book preview

Prologue

Whenever Taylor woke, she would imagine for a split second that she was still at home—free to stretch and rise, to walk and wash up. Then glimpses of her actual situation would begin breaking through, and reality would close its cold hand around her. Her captivity was one seamless procession of countless days all blended into one. Wrists and ankles bound with rope, Taylor had been remanded to some old cell in what looked like a medieval underground dungeon, dank and with no natural light, its walls impregnated with degradation and despair. The distinct chill in the air was an indication of the impending colder months. She could see her own breath as she exhaled.

Initially Taylor had felt confident in her ability to keep track of time, but now even that was beginning to evade her, and with it her strength seemed to ebb. Not that it mattered anymore. Whatever the precise date, she knew she had been there for the best part of a couple of months, confined here, with only a small candle in the corridor offering a morsel of light through the barred face of the cell. In the first few weeks she had time and again begged in quiet desperation for release whenever one of her robed abductors came to the cell to slide a tray of food and water into her enclosure. Each time, though, the abductor’s expression only darkened and became more threatening. No one ever replied, and only silence and near darkness continued to shroud her—except for the few times she heard pleading cries or distant screams of anguish echo through the corridors. Finally she gave up saying anything. Any hope of freedom had been extinguished then.

Sitting there in near darkness atop an old mattress on the hard-packed dirt, Taylor’s thoughts continued to race. All that remained was an abysmal hopelessness, and she wondered once more if she had perhaps died, and this was her particular purgatory… or Hell.

Chapter One

Siena jolted awake in the predawn light and felt the unrelenting pounding in her chest. Her hands trembled, fumbling for the switch on the bedside table lamp. Gasping for breath, she could still feel the grief from her dream—sharp and real. It played again in her mind as she sat up. Taylor had stormed toward the cafeteria doors, but then she stopped and called back to Siena over her shoulder, tears streaming down her face. Siena strained to hear what Taylor was trying to tell her, but she couldn’t hear the words. Suddenly the vivid image faded into the darkness. Nothing but a memory—mostly, at least. Siena didn’t recall Taylor stopping at the door and looking back to say anything. Sitting there, Siena reran the memory over in her head several times. It haunted her like a lurking dread.

As the months had passed since Taylor’s disappearance, Siena had tried to suppress the guilt and bury it deep, all to no avail. And now in the dream Taylor was trying to tell her something, but Siena couldn’t hear it.

The dream remained with her later that morning, undiminished, but Siena had a busy day ahead and so she did her best to focus on the task at hand. She rummaged through her backpack to check for her phone but then her fingers touched something. Cold. Metal. Every time she rummaged in her pack for anything, it would always be there. And then it was Michael all over again: dark hair, adventurous, those mischievous eyes… and that first kiss. She grabbed the lighter she had found in the chamber in San Vittore Church, next to the lit candles—Michael’s lighter. Her thoughts went back to him, when he first showed her the lighter: … like that survival adventurer Bear Grylls on TV, he’d proclaimed.

She smiled at the memory, but the good feeling faded quickly as she recalled their last moments together.

She shook it all away and returned the lighter to her backpack, turning her attention to this being her last full day in Banff. She would be driving to the west coast of the US to commence college the next morning in Baldwin, just south of Seattle. And then, like a backhanded slap of surprise, she realized she’d miss home… miss her family and friends… miss Banff… miss all of this. Siena stepped to her window and looked outside. She’d miss the summer mornings here, when the heat of the day had yet to smother the air, when the birds sang praise like little miracles, when the fields were lush and green. She’d miss this very spot, where she had stared out the window as a child and thought of the coming day and dreamed foolish dreams. Siena gave a wistful smile and stepped away from the window. She would miss all of this, and yet it was time to leave this season behind. But she had one last important errand to run today.

Several minutes later, squirrels scurried up green pines as Siena sped along the dirt road toward the Lindum house, her motorbike spewing up dust behind her. A cloudless blue sky stretched across the horizon. As she rode onward, her mind drifted to how differently her mother and father had reacted to the massacre at the hospital. After her dad had permanently moved back home, it seemed that every now and then all he wanted to talk about was what had led to the unfathomable horror at the hospital and how Patrick Leonard’s false credentials hadn’t been found out sooner. Yet Siena’s mum didn’t want to talk about the atrocity at all, even though she had lost close friends and was still grieving, and even though she still couldn’t recollect the actual events. It was just too deeply personal. Unfortunately, with their divergent reactions to the tragedy, her parents had unknowingly set in motion the largely separate lives they gradually started to lead. After several months back home, Siena’s father returned to working abroad. At least her mum was trying to keep the relationship going, travelling with him occasionally on his trips overseas. He agreed, and so now both Siena’s mum and dad were gone. While Siena was sad they’d be away when she left for college, she felt grateful that they were doing their best to stay together.

And then of course Siena still didn’t have Zach around… or Taylor. Although the missing-person posters had faded or been torn down, Taylor’s image always remained visibly etched in Siena’s mind—as well as being accompanied by the guilt of her best friend being caught between good and evil… coupled with the revelation that Taylor was a piece of an infinitely greater puzzle. Ever since learning that Seth had been the one to kidnap Taylor, Siena still refused to believe she was truly gone—the same as when Michael had disappeared a few years ago. Yet as time passed and search teams never retrieved a body from the river, any hope of ever seeing Michael again had diminished. But it just couldn’t be the same for Taylor.

As Taylor’s house came into view, Siena heaved a deep sigh. Lately, every time she was faced with the unknown, she found herself assaulted by sudden feelings of grief and anguish.

She pulled her bike to a stop at the front gate and stared up at the house. Memories of Taylor from times past slowly trickled through her thoughts. As she stood up from her bike, Siena noticed Annie Lindum out on the front porch sweeping, and by the time Siena had taken off her helmet, Taylor’s mom was coming down the sidewalk. Siena couldn’t help noticing her red-rimmed eyes looked sullen, and sleep deprived, almost sunken into her pale face. Her appearance looked as haggard and neglected as the garden beds on either side of the walk. Siena’s heart sank, although Annie’s continued downward spiral didn’t surprise her, as Siena had made it a priority since Taylor’s disappearance to visit Annie as frequently as she could. Every time, though, Annie looked just a little worse for wear.

Hi, Mrs. Lindum! Siena called out.

She closed the gap between them and hugged her in a caring embrace. After what seemed like a long moment, they let go and faced each other, Siena still clutching Mrs Lindum’s trembling hands to offer her support.

Hi, Siena, she said. And please… I keep telling you that you can call me ‘Annie’ now that you’re all grown up. Annie tried to offer a smile, but it barely moved her lips.

Siena nodded and gave a little smile. Staring at the dishevelled and regretful face in front of her felt haunting.

Let’s go inside, okay? Annie said.

Sure, Siena said.

As they walked toward the porch, Siena thought about how Annie hadn’t been capable of showing even the smallest flicker of empathy toward Taylor for so long before she had vanished, and now the woman felt tormented at the loss of her eldest daughter. Siena also knew from recent conversations with Annie that her feelings of despair only escalated as she recalled memories and images of Taylor, knowing that she couldn’t have closure without a body being found. On top of that, after authorities had run out of places to search and people to question, exhausting all avenues, some locals had planted a seed of doubt, wondering aloud if perhaps Annie Lindum knew more than she was saying. The gossip spread, infectious and inescapable, and only nurtured the seed. And now, Annie’s despair, coupled with grief and frustration, continued to live and grow inside her, like a cancer—manifesting and spreading in silence, leaving figurative tumours of desolation. What saddened Siena more was the fact that Taylor’s mum hadn’t lost all hope.

For now, though, all Siena could do was empathize and offer compassion and sensitivity until they could find something out for certain. Her visits, though, always felt inwardly awkward, yet necessary.

On the porch Annie said, So how have you been, Siena? You look well. How is your family?

As usual, Annie’s small talk came out all at once, and as she said it, her eyes looked past Siena, her expression distant as she motioned her inside the house.

Entering the house, Siena said she was well, and her family was too, even as she noted that nothing had changed inside. Again, no surprise to Siena. The same floral curtains hung from the windows, matching the cushions on the couch. The wood flooring was still scuffed at the front entrance from wear. Photos of Taylor’s grandparents and immediate family adorned the faded blue walls. A floor lamp stood in the corner near a wooden rocker.

Siena followed Annie into the kitchen and sat at the table while Taylor’s mum retrieved two glasses and a jug of juice from the refrigerator.

Annie handed a full glass to Siena, who said, Thank you. So, is Sharni home?

Yes, she’s upstairs resting. She’s been working extra shifts at the caféand she’s tired. I imagine you must be too, taking care of your property while your parents are overseas.

Well… yes. I mean, no, I’m okay. In fact I feel… Siena let her words trail off. Eli has mostly been taking care of things. I came to tell you that I’m leaving soon—tomorrow. I’m moving to Baldwin to go to college.

Annie nodded. Right, I remember you telling me that’s where you’d be going. That’s great for you, Siena. Her words sounded genuine, yet her expression conveyed more of a deep despondency. I… I just want you to know that things had never been easy between us since… since the separation and then the di-divorce. I know I’ve made mistakes.

Siena could hear a sharp edge buried inside Annie’s calm voice, but then she calmed a bit and said, I just hope she knows that I love her.

Siena couldn’t remember how many times Taylor had said that she didn’t think her mother loved her, but she only said, I’m sure she knows.

A momentary expression of relief passed over Annie’s face before going right back to grief.

After their short visit together Siena waved goodbye to Annie as she rode off. The meeting with Taylor’s mum left her feeling anguished. Siena had heard somewhere that tensions ease with the passage of time, no matter how unbearable it seemed at the onset. The human condition was able to adapt in spite of itself, turning abnormality into a form of routine. With that in mind on this bright summer morning, Siena could detect in herself a creeping acceptance that Taylor’s absence was now permanent. She decided to pull off at the next exit and ride up Farley Road, toward the mountains. The dirt road was isolated and that was exactly what she needed right now.

As she headed up Farley Road, the wind blew fresh against her face. In this picturesque environment, with its untamed wilderness and snow-capped mountains, any threat from a sinister force seemed only a dark fantasy. A thin layer of mist drifted in as she ascended higher, giving the landscape a dreamlike quality. As she rode on, Siena mentally went over everything she’d got ready for her big trip tomorrow. Satisfied that everything was organized for college, her thoughts drifted back to Zach. An empty ache filled her heart. Her mind quickly expelled the pain of missing him, replacing it with memories of the good times they’d had and the love they still shared.

It had been almost exactly eleven months since he’d been summoned back to the Holy One, and she was holding together just fine emotionally. In a sense it was no different from couples who had long-distance relationships, although those people still communicated frequently. She glanced down to see the sunlight dance off the ring he had given her before he left, a silver band with an engraving of two hearts entwined, and the word Aeternus —eternal—engraved inside the hearts. It was all she needed to know that he loved her.

Siena approached a fork in the dirt road and took a left turn. Up ahead, framed by the dense green forest of pines, something white above the embankment caught her eye. She slowed down and rode cautiously. Skid marks in the dirt showed where a vehicle had collided with the guardrail. She pulled over on the shoulder and came to a stop, her bike still idling. She cut the engine and climbed off, removing her helmet. The high mountain mist continued to thicken, making everything in the far distance obscured. Gravel crunched under her feet as she approached the broken guardrail. She stopped short. Her throat caught at the sight in front of her.

Below her was a trail of twisted metal, glass, and rubber. The crumpled wreck of a vehicle sat upright at the bottom of the steep ridge. Flecks of white paint marked the guardrail and brush where it had struck and then rolled down the embankment. She quickly took off her backpack and scrambled inside it for her cell. Her fingers fumbled as she grabbed it and dialled 9-1-1. She attempted to explain to the operator the exact location in this remote area. The operator calmly told her to wait near the road for dispatch to arrive.

Siena ended the call and then took a few steps closer to the edge of the embankment and called out, Hello, can anyone hear me?

She waited, straining to hear a response or for any signs of life. There was nothing but eerie silence. Unable to just stand there and wait, she started down the steep slope. Adrenaline took a hold of her even as instinctive and sharp fear propelled her toward the crushed metal. She had to hurry. She slid a small way down the steep embankment before steadying herself. The ground beneath her feet began to level off as she neared the wreckage. She saw no movement within the crumpled car from the front. The windshield was now missing, and she could only make out a woman in the driver’s seat. A hissing sound came from the fractured radiator. Then she heard a faint, rasping breath from inside the vehicle. As she moved closer, the sound came again—the low whine and sniffling sound of a baby!

Siena felt her heart pull and a gut-wrenching fear take hold. Not only was the female driver trapped behind the wheel—unconscious or maybe dead—but there was a baby in there as well, and Siena thought she could smell faint traces of chemical fluids. Petrol seeped from the fractured tank into small pools on the dirt. Her eyes darted up the hill toward the road and then back to the wreckage. Where are they? It had been several minutes since she’d made the call, and she could only pray that her directions had been accurate.

The side windows had all been cracked and she couldn’t see anything through them, so she looked in through the open windshield on the driver’s side, seeing the woman behind the wheel and an infant car seat facing backwards in the centre of the back seat. Fortunately, the air bag had deployed between the driver and the windscreen. Reaching inside, Siena pulled the air bag across and checked the woman’s neck for an arterial pulse. It was there—slow, and barely palpable. Being trapped by the seat belt, and having the mangled door jammed against her ribs only increased the woman’s risk, Siena knew. And since the baby wasn’t crying constantly, it was likely okay, so Siena decided to focus on helping the woman first.

Filled with adrenaline and panic, Siena took a couple of steps to her right and, without expecting much, yanked at the crushed door handle to gain access to the woman. Her attempts proved futile. She tried the rear door on the same side, but nothing. She ran around to the other side, only to find that both door handles had been ripped off. Siena’s head began to spin in disarray. She shut her eyes tightly as images in her mind began to play like a movie. The images were so fleeting that she had trouble barely making out one before the next one came crashing into view. She closed her eyes even tighter, trying to focus, to somehow slow the images down so she could get a clearer perception. The images were of the same women that had tormented her mind in recent times—ever since visiting Italy last autumn with Alo. Their desperate screams for help, the torture in their confined cells… It all seemed so real, causing an even greater sense of urgency and desperation to flow through her.

Before Siena even realized what she was doing, unbridled anger erupted from within, fuelled by frustration. She balled her left hand into a fist and slammed it through the front passenger window. Her movements were so swift that she didn’t notice that a jagged shard of glass had pierced the side of her hand. Only after she paused for a moment did she look at the broken window and then her hand. The fang of glass had penetrated downward through the side of her hand and emerged through her palm. She felt a little queasy at the sight of the injury, as well as fascinated. It felt strangely uncomfortable but was not in the least bit painful. She figured she must be in shock. Without any hesitation she pinched the shard between the thumb and forefinger of her uninjured hand and pulled it out. The sensation felt surreal as it slid through her flesh effortlessly, yet still she felt no pain. As she thought about using a strip of her shirt to bind up the wound, she froze in place and gaped at the open, ugly gash sealing itself, the blood stopping immediately.

What in the world?

The scream of the baby broke her thoughts and brought back to the reality of the situation. Noting the scent of gasoline again, Siena grabbed at the front passenger door through the now open window and pulled. She felt blood rush to her face as she strained. Then came the screeching of twisting metal. Finally the last hinge snapped, and the door wrenched free. With insurmountable strength Siena flung the door through the air, away from the car and into the trees. She stared down at her hands momentarily with sheer amazement, but the baby’s distressed cries became louder. Leaning inside the vehicle, Siena reached across the driver and undid her seatbelt. With great care she slipped her hands under the woman’s arms and hugged her gently to herself. Wary of a spinal injury Siena made sure the woman’s head was braced against her chest, holding it from behind with both hands. Feeling she had a good grip, Siena began to pull the woman slowly from the wreckage, taking her a safe distance away from the vehicle and then laying her gently on the grass.

Then Siena raced back and unhooked the safety latch on the baby’s restraint, releasing the seat with the small infant, who looked to be a girl—at least judging from the pink clothing. Siena carried the restraint closely against her chest, talking to her in a quiet tone, and then set her down carefully beside the woman—the baby’s mother, Siena assumed.

That’s when Siena noticed blood flowing from a deep laceration on the woman’s head. Siena wished Zach were there with her. He could help somehow with his special powers; she remembered him telling her how he’d healed the wounded mother bear they’d found in an illegal trap. But Zach wasn’t there, so she took off her thin jacket and used it to apply pressure. The deluge of blood didn’t stop. The baby then began crying, and this time she didn’t stop. Siena had to do something. The child needed its mother.

A surge of power unleashed within Siena, and she shut her eyes tight and focused every part of her being on the wound, even as she continued to press against it firmly with her jacket. Her mind went back to the underground chamber in Italy, to the light and guidance of her Nona. Then she heard the words I am salvation in her mind, repeating over and over. Siena felt her hands burn with the intensity of fire. She opened her eyes, and her breath caught when she pulled away the jacket and saw the wound closing. The rise and fall of the woman’s chest also became more pronounced, and when Siena put two fingers on her neck, she felt a stronger pulse.

Not wasting any time, Siena moved her hands down along the woman’s body, hoping that this strange white heat would heal any internal injuries that might have occurred. As Siena worked her way down each arm, the woman slowly began to stir and opened her eyes. She looked up into Siena’s face with a bewildered expression as she began to come out of unconsciousness.

Siena’s head roared with pain and forced her to let go. She felt a tremendous relief flood through her body. Her hands trembled uncontrollably, and her head felt light. Taking deep controlled breaths, she steadied herself.

It struck her now that something inside her had changed. But her attention went back to the woman. She was going to make it. And the baby had her mother back.

Here you go, Siena said. She unharnessed the crying baby from her seat and positioned her on her mother’s chest. The baby’s screams quickly subsided to sobs. Siena heard sirens in the distance.

Help will be here soon, Siena said, taking the woman’s hand in hers. You need to lie as still as you can.

The woman gave a nod, her eyes welling up with tears as she held her baby close.

An officer with the highway patrol was the first to arrive at the top of the embankment.

Down here Siena called out as loudly as she could. Right after he appeared, Siena heard the loud humming of motorized blades overhead just before a rescue chopper came into view and landed on the road behind the patrol officer. Siena let go of the woman’s hand and ran up the steep embankment to greet them. Three paramedics jumped out of the chopper and immediately made their way to the edge of the embankment, carrying a medevac kit and a hard plastic stretcher—a spine-board, Siena knew, thanks to her mum being an ER nurse. The officer and Siena followed them down.

Based on what Siena heard from the medics as they worked, the woman’s breathing was now normal, although she still seemed to be slipping in and out of consciousness. The only evidence that remained of the deep gash on her head was the dry blood on her forehead. The EMTs strategically assessed the baby and the woman, and then administered a cannula and fluids accordingly for the woman before placing her on the stiff stretcher, with two of them carrying her back up to the waiting chopper. The third paramedic did a brief assessment on the baby before he was satisfied that she was stable.