PROLOGUE:
Reith leant over the window’s ledge, allowing his wrist to slack and his open palm to catch the base of his sculptured neck. His mauve eyes held the expression of exhaustion which impaled the corners of his feeble smile, now dwindling into a disconcerted scowl.
He eased his fingers from his chin down to the nape of his masculine neck, rasping the beaded sweat which now clung to the surface of his palm. How irritating was his nights now hampered with the recollections of a deluded past. Slowly Reith closed his eyes, allowing himself to inhale the fresh lawn’s air which trailed in through the open window. Things seemed peaceful… even if beneath this mask of peace and contentment was the devilish cries of something far more sinister.
CHAPTER ONE: As it all began… part 1
A mother’s touch… it seems to be something so simple yet somehow it manages to carry with it the comfort and warmth of that of a sheltering cloth, bundled around a fragile child.
Jurayne gently caressed the smooth flushed cheeks of her son’s delicate face. He was no older than twelve, curled up beneath plush thick sheets as he struggled to breathe against the constricting pull of his darkening veins.
‘My son…’ her tone seemed dense, mixed with her southern twang. ‘It seems so painful…’ She slowly run her fingers down from his face to the nape of his neck.
Mauve exhausted and confused eyes peered up from beneath dark thick lashes… how vacant they seemed as the child’s small frame convulsed in discomfort. He hadn’t spoken a word since the fever engulfed him into utter darkness. She smiled softly down and pressed her lips to the quivering child’s sweat beaded brow.
‘You’re temperature’s risen,’ she sighed, forming a compress with the dampened cloth by her side and resting it upon his forehead. ‘But needn’t worry… mummy’s going to fix everything.’
‘M…mother…’ the small voice came out dry and strained. ‘Just… kill me…’
Her eyes widened. To hear something like that spill from between the lips of her son was unimaginable.
‘Reith you silly child,’ she laughed softly. ‘There will be none of that talk around this house, especially when your father expects so many great things from you when you’re older.’ She moved the now warm cloth back to the bowl and sunk it within the cool liquid. ‘You know your father was just the same so I heard. Weak to the bone until he came of age…’ Her eyes darted towards the doorway as a body shifted in, leaning against the wall with such poise that Jurayne had to shift from her position just to make out the figure veiled within the shadows.
‘Vrail what a pleasant surprise,’ she smiled, still gently stroking the small hand of her son as he closed his eyes. ‘You bring news from my husband?’
Vrail nodded, moving from the darkness he leered over Reith with a concerned frown . ‘Yes he says there’s a specialist to the south he has sent word to to come visit your son.’ A certain hardness returned to Vrail’s jade eyes. Over the years he’d seen plenty of sights but never before a child so viciously infused with pain. ‘A sad sight,’ he sighed, raking his fingers through his blonde waves of silken tresses. ‘You must be exhausted madam, please, I will watch over him whilst you rest.’
She moved the cloth from the child’s brow to his cheeks then gently brushed its dampened surface over his painfully dry lips. ‘I’m fine where I am Vrail-‘
‘I can see the darkness surrounding your eyes, Jurayne I don’t mean to be so informal with you but please. Your husband would be furious if he learnt that I haven’t been taking good care of you.’
‘And yet he has so many other wives,’ she smiled sorrowfully. ‘Just admit it to me Vrail, he expected my death the moment he discovered I was carrying his child.’
Vrail’s gazed moved back towards Reith.
‘Admittedly yes he expected that, and for a while so did the rest of us.’ Gently he rasped his temple. ‘But you fought a great battle, Giving birth to such a beast and surviving the ordeal has given you some respect around this dreaded place.’
‘A beast you say?’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘Watch your tongue around my son.’
Vrail bowed in an apologetic manor. ‘Please forgive me again madam I have stepped out of line. But as I said before, you must return to your bedchamber and catch up on some much needed rest.’
Jurayne glanced back towards her son then sighed reluctantly, pushing herself to her feet and jostling the dampened cloth between Vrail’s fingertips. ‘This shouldn’t be happening to my son,’ she breathed coarsely. ‘Not yet anyway.’
She gathered her skirts and closed the door behind her, leaving Vrail staring blankly towards the trembling child. Jurayne was right, this shouldn’t have been happening… The transformation wasn’t to begin until after his father’s death yet… A shadow loomed behind. Vrail inhaled quickly, spinning around, drawing the blade from his side in one slick movement.
thebong