Captured the blood proph.., p.1
Captured (The Blood Prophecy Book 1), page 1
Copyright © 2016 Catherine Stovall
All rights reserved.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
The Requiem of Humanity Series is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
About the Author
DEDICATION
To my children: Tre, Alyssa, and Rhea Stovall.
You taught me to dream with my eyes wide open.
&
To Three Great Men Who Made Me Who I Am Today.
Kenneth L. Hebrock 01/29/1950 ~ 11/30/2011
Dewey W. Adams 05/03/1939 ~ 10/28/2010
Rodney E. Stovall Sr. 04/09/1960 ~ 02/11/2010
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I would like to thank all my friends, family, and fans. An author is nothing without the minds of those who read, imagine, and believe.
In addition, many thanks go to the following people.
My mother, Tonia Hebrock, for always being there.
ToM for everything.
Everyone who believed in this crazy idea from the start. Without you, I would never have come so far. So here’s to chasing the sun, reaching for the stars, and howling at the moon.
Jenda Meyer leaned back, closed her eyes, and let the fall breeze caress her pale cheek as she enjoyed the unnaturally warm September day. For a second, she simply basked in the sun, until a hard jab met her ribs, making her jump.
“You didn’t answer me. Do you want to just get out of here and do something fun?”
On a sigh, Jenda answered, “Sobo, you know we can’t ditch. We have finals coming up.”
“Finals, sminals.” Soborgne Jinx laughed. “I’ve got better things to do. Stop mothering me.”
“If I didn’t mother you, you wouldn’t have made it all the way to senior year. Senior year, Sobo. Don’t screw it up now.”
Changing the subject, Soborgne gave her a wicked grin, and asked, “So, have you decided rather or not you’re going to lose the big V to Aaron on prom night?”
Jenda giggled, and her pale cheeks flushed crimson red. “No. I have not.”
“Ya know ducky, it’s a good thing you don’t have those horrid freckles the rest of you ginger people are covered in. With all that blushing you do, spots would only make you look like a polka-dotted fire truck.”
In return, Jenda put a hint of mock accusation in her voice and said, “Well, not everyone is capable of announcing their sexual intentions, or lack thereof, to the world without batting an eye.” It would have been almost convincing if Jenda hadn’t had to duck her head to hide the new shade of red filling her cheeks at the mention of sexual anything.
The girls’ easy banter continued throughout lunch until the shrill sound of the bell sounded. Standing, they brushed the fall leaves from their clothes and made their way across the campus. Walking side by side, the two looked as different as day and night.
Jenda with her red curling tresses, large green eyes, and alabaster skin, was dressed chicly in a sweater dress and simple boots. Her mass of ringlets had been styled into a messy French twist, with small curls left to lie beside her face. Beautiful, classic, and never too daring, her style suited her perfectly.
Next to Jenda, Sobo’s was a more severe beauty. Her long black hair was highlighted with deep plum and pinned in a crazy pile. A belt made from beer caps carefully topped off her designer dress, brown thigh-high boots hugged her perfectly shaped legs, and a jacket Jenda had helped her purchase from the local Goodwill was the piece de resistance.
Soborgne was the only person Jenda knew who could combine shopping at Saks with last week’s kegger and come out of it with a tremendous outfit.
“Shit, dude.”
Jenda, too much of a good girl to cuss, looked pointedly at her best friend. “What now, potty mouth?”
“Seriously? What have cuss words ever done to you?” Soborgne teased as she dug into her side bag. “I left my notes for Mr. Hedrick’s class in my car. I’m gonna run and get ‘em. You go ahead.” With a flip of her hair, she turned and walked across campus toward student parking.
Jenda shrugged. No reason for us both to tardy.
“Hurry up, Slowbo!” With a shake of her head, she hurried off to fifth period, still laughing at the obscene gesture that Soborgne had thrown over her shoulder.
Ten minutes later, Soborgne was still not back. Mr. Hedrick was into full-on boring mode as he lectured in a completely monotone voice about the importance of warriors in a matriarchal society. To Jenda, his pinched face said he would rather be lecturing about anything but women leading a civilization.
Stuck-up old nitwit, she thought.
Slipping her cell phone from her purse as quietly as she could, Jenda carefully concealed it between her and the desk. I know you didn’t ditch without me, you cow. Thinking her friend probably ran into uber hot bad boy, Jeremy Finnel, in the parking lot, Jenda sent her a chiding text.
*You are never gona pass if u skip to go smoke with uber hottie!*
A few minutes passed with no answer, and she started to fidget. Soborgne always answered her phone—day or night. It was like an extension of her hand.
The hour stretched out impossibly long, and Mr. Hedrick droned on, oblivious to the misery of his students—or maybe secretly enjoying it. Every chance she got, Jenda checked for a response from her friend, but a reply never came. Finally, the bell signaled their freedom, and the class let out a collective sigh of relief as they all stood to leave.
Jenda hurried from her seat, barely pausing to stop and tap her boyfriend’s head. She tossed, “Wake up, Sunshine,” over her shoulder as the groggy boy looked up. “Got to run. I’ll catch you later.”
Aaron Brown was the classic kind of sandy-haired hunk that played on the football team, got fair grades, and doted on Jenda when they went out. He made a perfect temporary in her life, but she couldn’t see anything more with him. She wasn’t the type of girl to sit around doodling hearts and planning her wedding. However, the sight of his sleepy blue eyes brought back her earlier conversation with Soborgne as she made her way down the hall.
She’d thought about losing her virginity to Aaron, but it had not come to that yet. Still, Jenda knew it eventually came to that with all guys. Despite the fact that she thought Aaron was great, he wasn’t the one. She wasn’t saving herself for marriage or anything, but she didn’t want to have sex someone who would be out of her life in less than a month.
Shaking off the need to over-examine life altering situations while half-running down the hall, Jenda hurried out of the building, swearing under her breath, “If she makes me late again I’ll…I’ll…I’ll beat her.”
Feet catching the loose gravel on the blacktop, Jenda skidded to a stop at the sight of Soborgne’s black SL550 Benz sitting in the student lot—in the exact place it had been that morning and without anyone inside. If Soborgne had left campus, she wouldn’t have ridden with anyone else. Everyone wanted to take Soborgne’s scandalously expensive death trap because, to the snobby kids at Fairview Prep, it represented a rite of passage even better than their own.
A seventeenth birthday gift to Soborgne from her stepfather and mother, it outclassed every car on the lot, and that was saying something in a school full of trust fund kids. The sleek black body, chrome trim, and every luxury that money could buy made every boy and half the girls drool.
Jenda shook her head in disbelief as the first fat raindrop smacked her face, and irritation made her cheeks flare pink. She’d been so worried that she had rushed out of school, was going to be late for her next class, and was going to get wet f or her trouble.
Soborgne is probably enjoying herself being the center of attention with Jeremy and his group of lackeys. Meanwhile, I’m gawking at that expensive piece of pompous crap she calls a car and worried sick.
When Jenda finally made it to her sixth period English Lit class, she was several minutes late, soaked to the bone, and felt like a sopping wet mop. As she took her seat, the always-funny Mr. Todd eyed her appearance with a jovial meanness glittering in his eye.
“Ms. Myer, it’s nice of you to join us. Though I appreciate good hygiene, may I suggest you take a shower before school and in the traditional manner next time.”
The class burst into a fit of snide comments and giggles, and Jenda instantly turned toward Soborgne’s seat, expecting her best friend’s help and prepared to give her a dirty look. Except, the desk was empty. A weird shiver ran up Jenda’s spine, and she was sure it had nothing to do with her wet clothes.
Luckily, they were watching A Midsummer’s Night Dream in various forms that week. Mr. Todd, despite his habit of drawing attention to the misfortune of his students for a laugh, was a creative and energetic teacher. He felt that one must see and hear MND it in a multitude of different media and styles to properly understand its effect on the literary world.
The lineup for the week included the 1935 film starring Mickey Rooney and James Cagney, the 1968 version directed by Peter Hall, the 1999 film starring Calista Flockhart, and the current showing was 2002’s A Midsummer’s Night Rave, complete with magical ecstasy. With an exasperated sigh at the absurdity that the movie could ever relate to Shakespeare, Jenda decided to take advantage of the dark room and Mr. Todd’s rapture with the screen.
Again, she slid her cell phone out and sent a quick note to Jeremy.
*Are you with Sobo?*
*No. Why?*
*She’s not n class.*
*Oh. Is her car in the lot?*
*Yup!*
*Damn. Did you try Mike?*
*Not yet. TY*
Jenda gave a mental eye roll. Of course, he would ask where the car was. Did anyone ever care about anything but the car? She pushed her now frizzy mane back from where it had fallen from its graceful style into her face. Trying hard to not over react, she searched for Mike Bower’s number. The conversation went almost the same as it had with Jeremy. This time, a different name came at the end.
Why does she have to be so darn popular?
The texting continued for the next hour, but the last one had sent Jenda over the edge. She’d sent it to one of Soborgne’s friends that went to public school, and the girl’s response was beyond nerve wracking.
*Did you check with her bestie, Jenda?*
Furious, Jenda responded with a curt, *This is Jenda. Ty.*
Sobo could be irresponsible, and she did her fair share of ditching, but completely disappearing was not like her. She hated to admit it the sensation of dread crawling up her spine, but there was something seriously wrong. Soborgne wouldn’t have left her car in the lot, she wouldn’t ignore her text, and she wouldn’t have ditched with anyone other than the people Jenda already contacted.
No, something is terribly wrong.
Leaned against the lockers, Jenda tried her last resort. “Hi, Mrs. Maria. I was wondering if you picked Sobo up from school today.” If her best friend got in trouble, she would feel bad, but she hadn’t been left with much choice. Besides, Maria Jinks hadn’t the time or the patience for actually punishing her daughter. She would scold Soborgne and threaten to take away the car or the credit cards, but she never did.
Maria laughed. “Don’t tell me she skipped without you, Jenda. The new boy toy must be hot.”
An uncomfortable feeling crept into her stomach at the sound of Soborgne’s mother attempting to talk to her as if they were both seventeen. She was a classically beautiful woman, who refused to age in either looks or personality, but it had a creep factor all its own when she tried to be ‘one of the girls’.
“Actually, I’m a little worried about her. She went to her car to get some papers right after lunch, and she didn’t come back. The car is still in the lot, and she’s not with any of her other friends, not even Jeremy.” An annoying blush crawled up her neck and onto her cheeks as she realized how stupid she must sound.
“Hmmm…The car is in the lot?”
The concern Jenda had been waiting for was evident in Maria’s voice. “Yes, it’s there.”
The car! Seriously? Does no one ever care about anything but that stupid car? It would have been funny if it weren’t for the fact that it was true. That car was only second best to Jenda in Soborgne’s eyes, and everyone in the world knew it.
“Jenda, try not to worry. I’m sure she will meet you after school. If you see her, tell her to give me a call, so I don’t put more lines in my face by worrying.”
“Okay. I will. Thank you, Mrs. Maria.” Jenda sighed and hung up the phone.
Having gym for seventh period was helpful for once. Not a sports fanatic, she did fairly well at the basics, and she liked the stress relief. Pilates three times a week to kept her in shape, and her high energy level made her capable of doing well at anything except basketball. Being vertically challenged tended to limit her free throw ability.
The physical exertion of playing tennis helped take her mind off Soborgne’s disappearance, and she managed to win three sets. However, the best part was the hot shower afterwards. Still chilled by the fall rain, the warm water helped ease her frustration and aching muscles.
Afterwards, Jenda wasted no time in getting dressed. Always prepared, she kept a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt in her gym locker. With the modest outfit on, she pulled a brush through her hair. A simple ponytail was all she needed to keep the wreckage of wet curls from her face, and once she’d stuffed her somewhat damp sweater dress in her bag, she was ready to go.
Hustling out of the locker room, she ran right smack into Bridgette Olsen and jumped back as if a snake had bitten her. Bridgette was the type of girl that no one liked but everyone worshipped—except for Jenda and Soborgne.
In sixth grade, Bridgette had made a snide remark about Soborgne’s mother and had ended up with a broken nose as payment. Since then, they’d feuded in every way but taking ten paces and firing. Though Jenda understood the dislike between them, she wished Bridgette would not take every opportunity to make her miserable—she hadn’t been the one to punch her after all.
“Watch it, carrot top.” Bridgette snarled like an angry Doberman and threw her hand on her hip. “What’s with the outfit, red? Are you campaigning for National Hobo Queen?”
Jenda hated to be goaded about her auburn tresses. They weren’t even really what qualified as ginger or carrot top. However, she didn’t have time to argue with a snotty cow like Bridgette, so she did the simplest thing she could do to shut the girl up and get her out of the way.
In the most sugary sweet voice she could muster, Jenda said, “Oh, hi, Bridge. If you are looking for a new nose job, Sobo isn’t with me, but I’m sure I can manage to help you out. Sobo has been giving me lessons on how to deal with girls like you.”
Bridgette gasped, and her hand unconsciously flew up to her perfectly sculpted nose. Jenda took a step forward, trying to look as menacing as possible, and Bridgette took a single step back.
With the exit she needed opened, Jenda darted around the girl, headed down the hall, and hurried out of the building. She could barely restrain herself from running as she headed to the student lot.
Certain Soborgne would be sitting on the hood of her car, smiling, and talking to half a dozen people, Jenda fumed—already knowing how it would play out. Black hair shining in the sun, she would try to crack a joke about how long it had taken her to get there and how badly she needed a smoke. Jenda would give her the dirty look she had been planning for English Lit and tell her how worried she’d been. Then Soborgne would half-apologize and go into a rundown of whatever crazy stuff she’d been doing. It was always the same with them, but still, they could forgive each other anything.
The first person to hit the west side of the student parking lot, Jenda turned the corner onto the pavement and froze. A scream lodged in her throat, and her eyes bulged. Red fluid covered the hood of Sobo’s car—dripping down the midnight black and falling onto the ground.
