Blood From a Stone Read online

  Blood from a Stone

  Cynthia Lucas

  First Edition, Createspace.com

  Second Edition 2012.

  Copyright © 2011. Cynthia Lucas.

  All rights reserved.

  The material contained in this text is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidences, actual historical sites and data (which is interpreted loosely in this story), are either a product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously for the sole purpose of entertainment and not intended to be historically accurate. Any resemblance to characters to any persons living or dead, is also entirely coincidental.

  This work of fiction is the sole property of the author. No part may be reproduced or used in any form or by any means - graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, electronic scanning, transfer or information storage in retrieval systems without the written permission of the author, as the sole copyright holder.

  This is an authorized publication and/or electronic form of this work.

  Lucas, Cynthia

  Blood From a Stone

  ISBN : 1-46790-935-1

  PROUDLY PRINTED IN THE U.S.A.

  Cover photo: Francesco Maria Cura'

  CuraPhotography.com

  Cover art and design: Cynthia Lucas

  The mistakes of youth so often become

  the wisdom o f the ages.

  Let us not forget that were the many to judge us by who we are when we begin our journey instead of who we become because of the journey…how few of us would ever reach our greatest achievements.

  This book is dedicated to everyone who’s ever had a change of heart.

  Sometimes the worst of us become the best of us….because someone gave them

  a second chance. Very often… the someone who’s forgiveness they needed most of all

  is the person staring back at them

  in the mirror.

  In memory of my mother, Marjorie Komons who’s love and never ending second chances helped me to grow in the best of who I am today and into all my tomorrows.

  I love you Mother Toad….

  Pr ologue

  It was a good day.

  An icy breeze cut through the warmth of the early morning sun, gusting against the east side of the old church. And in that exact moment, Samson felt his body stir from the bottomless pit of its dreamless hibernation.

  He began to feel the cold sting against the sides of his face, and although he was enveloped in the darkness of his nearly sightless eyes and could not see the rising golden orb before him, he welcomed the chilling sensation the wind offered….the first he’d felt in decades.

  Yes, the dawn of that special day was finally here. The day of The Awakening, that only came once every fifty years.

  As the hours progressed, the coldness of his granite body would be replaced by the warmth of flesh and blood. His wings would retract, and his gnarled features would fade away to be replaced by handsome face and form as The Change came.

  He would turn once again from stone sentinel to man….from Gargoyle to humankind.

  As his mind reawakened, he marveled anew at those old familiar sensations of how thought magically materialized in his brain. Yes, he remembered what it felt like to be a man. Not so much a mortal man, for that had been so long ago….but a man nonetheless. And one who was able to know all the hedonistic pleasures that life had to offer. Every sensation of the physical form from laughter to tears, from agony to ecstasy, the love of good wine and food…and the touch of a beautiful woman.

  Ah, to feel it all again! The Change would come slowly as it had so many times before for centuries. And he would revel in the few precious days of freedom, until the wretched curse would take him again, unless this time was different and he found the way to beat it. But it was, as far as time and trial had so far proven, unbreakable. It was etched in hard, cold stone….just like his hard, cold, stone body.

  But for now he was too lethargic and such thoughts would have to wait until the transformation was complete and he could think clearly as his organs began to function and higher thought was possible.

  He sat there patiently waiting for the moment when his eyes would fully see once more…all the colors and the wondrous sights of what changes the world had undergone since the last Awakening.

  Yes, as the glorious darkness fell, he would climb down from his perch atop the building he had guarded for so long, to feel the earth beneath his human feet once more.

  It was a good day indeed.

  C HAPTER ONE

  12 hours later…

  Willow Dalton pulled her jacket tighter around her body and shoved her hands deep into her pockets trying to protect them from the brisk night wind. The temperature had dropped substantially since noon and now the buttery soft black leather that looked and felt so great a few hours ago, provided little reprieve from the chill.

  She walked briskly, after parking and exiting her car with her best friend Sasha at her side, trying to get to their destination as quickly as possible.

  “Well, we’re pretty early. And dear God I hope to hell they let us in fast. I am in no mood to stand out here and freeze”, she said as they took off running in a light jog.

  As they ran up the sidewalk toward the large elaborate building, she could feel the thud of the bass droning against the pavement now and could see that getting in fast was not going to happen….not tonight anyway. Throngs of people stood in line waiting at the entrance to Velvet, the best club in all of the tri-city area. Live bands of many genres played there nightly, and tonight was hard rock night. And although she didn’t care much for the opening act, The Burning, Vendetta would be taking the stage around 10pm and they were her favorite band.

  They slowed their pace as they approached the line, standing well behind all those who were already waiting, but without actually stepping into the line. Laser lights flashed through the door every time the bouncers opened it to let someone inside.

  “There’s only a hundred people ahead of us.” Willow sighed. “I guess we’ll just have to stand here for a little bit and see how fast they let everyone in. I really want to see them, but I’m not sure if I can take this cold for more than a few minutes!”

  She had already decided that if the line was going to continue to move like cold molasses, then they weren’t going to be staying there waiting, not even for Vendetta! Sasha was shivering and nodded without making a peep.

  It was Friday night and after a long work week taking care of patients on the fifth floor at St. Luke’s, they had been hoping for some time to let loose for a few hours at least. It was an emotional job and sometimes a grueling one, taking care of sick children in the pediatric unit, but it was also a rewarding one. Every time a parent came to her to say thank you, every time she watched one of them recover from a severe injury or illness, she knew that her work mattered much more than any fatigue she felt.

  And so here they were for a girl’s night out. No dates, but she hoped to maybe meet someone to dance with and just hang out for a little while. Nothing serious. Just a welcome diversion.

  The line moved at a snail’s pace for about ten minutes and suddenly without warning a bone-chilling wind began to blow steadily, its icy needles stinging Willow’s cheeks.

  “Holy shit, that‘s freezing! I can‘t feel my face,” she said laughing lightly and huddling up against the side of the building trying to escape the gusty assault. She grabbed Sasha’s hand and they slipped around the corner and away from the crowd, into the small alley between buildings where the brick walls helped to provide some shelter. “I know it probably isn’t such a brilliant idea to be alone out here, but I highly doubt any robbers or rapists are going to be stupid enough to do their thing out here in this weathe
r! Their willies would freeze and drop off!” She forced a smile through her chattering teeth.

  Sasha started to agree but her words were instead replaced by a muffled scream as Willow’s hand clamped over her mouth. It was in that exact moment that a very large, and very angry looking dog had appeared from behind a dumpster and was now standing about ten feet in front them.

  The dog was huge, with foam coming from its mouth. Its eyes were glassy as it paced back and forth, barking in different directions at apparently hallucinated threats, agitated at every sound and motion. This animal was not only angry and crazed but appeared to be sick too.

  “Shhh.“ Willow whispered. “Don’t make any loud noises or act scared. Just move with me.“

  She tried to slow her own heavy breathing in the icy air as she took Sasha’s hand and began to back up slowly. She wasn’t sure if she was more numb from the cold or from the fear she felt as her heart pounded inside her chest and reverberated inside her ears. Before they could get more than three steps, the dog bared its frothy fangs and lunged. There was no time to try and run…the dog was way too fast for either of them to get away.

  Willow crouched low and braced herself for the attack trying to shield her face and help cover Sasha’s too. But an instant before the expected wave of searing pain came, she felt a rush of wind go by and through the corner of her eye she saw that a man had suddenly bolted between them and the dog. He moved so fast her eyes could barely keep up and with inhuman speed he launched at the dog, diverting it from their path. They both hit the pavement and as they rolled, it bit down violently on his arm. It held on, growling furiously, and began shaking its head back and forth as if trying to tear meat from the bone. Blood began to soak through the cloth of the man‘s shirt sleeve that was peeking out from under his jacket. Willow knew that the dog was probably rabid and if so, the man had just been exposed to the disease himself, while trying to protect them from being bitten.

  She started to run around the corner for help, but to her amazement, the attack just stopped as quickly as it started. The dog, with the stranger’s blood smeared on it’s muzzle suddenly calmed down as a look of peace crossed its features. It let go of the man’s arm, and began instead to lick the wound and sat beside him quietly wagging its tail.

  Willow stared in silence and awe, as he reached down and patted the animal’s head. He looked unfazed as his blood dripped onto the pavement for a moment and then mysteriously began to slow and stop.

  She approached him cautiously, still afraid the dog might turn on her again, and for the first time got a good look at the man who‘d just saved them.

  He was tall, with sandy brown hair that hung well below his shoulders, and looked like it had been kissed by the sun. His eyes that were so blue she could make out their color even in the dim light. His teeth were beautiful, straight and white, and he had a day old growth of beard shadowing the contours of his face. He had on a light colored button down shirt, the sleeve now bloodstained, and a black leather duster. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion and yet her heart was pounding a hundred miles a minute. Maybe it was just the adrenaline rushing through her veins. Or maybe it was because he looked like a model from one of those cologne ads in Cosmo? Did guys like that really exist? Apparently so, because here was one standing in front of her in the flesh.

  She took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure and not stare. “Oh, my God, I can’t thank you enough for what you just did. My name’s Willow Dalton. I’m a nurse. Let me see your arm,” she said reaching out to have a look at what was probably a nasty wound that would need stitches.

  “That’s okay. I’m fine.”

  “Listen, I know you men tend to think everything is just as scratch, but that dog might be sick and I really think you need to head a few blocks over to St. Luke’s Hospital and get it checked out. At least get a tetanus shot. And you know….although we‘d like to hope for the best, it might have rabies. You really can‘t take any chances with something like that.”

  She stared at him long and hard as his hand continued to stroke the dog’s head. The animal still had foam and blood on it’s mouth and yet it seemed like a completely different dog than the one they’d seen five minutes earlier.

  “How did you DO that?” Her eyes were still wide with disbelief.

  He smiled at her and shrugged lightly.

  “I don’t know.” Samson really meant it. He didn’t actually know what had just happened. Nothing like this had ever happened before during an Awakening, but he felt something…a feeling he couldn’t quite describe coursing through his body when the dog bit his arm. When his blood had started spurting from the wound, there was a tingle and a jolt of electricity and then…a strange calm that came over him and then seemed to spread to the dog as well.

  A thought occurred to him: what if the dog ended up like him…a gargoyle mutt or something? But then he supposed if it did, maybe it was better than being hauled away, thrown in a cage and no doubt being mistreated or abused in the process, only to then be euthanized.

  “Well…Mr….I‘m sorry but I didn’t catch your name.” Willow said. “We really should get you to St. Luke’s and call animal control too.” She pulled out her cell phone.

  He grabbed her arm and stopped her before she could dial. “My name is Samson, and I’m fine. Just go on in and enjoy your night.”

  “Look, Mr. Samson, I can’t just walk away and leave you here bleeding. I told you, I’m a nurse.”

  Samson hesitated. He knew that when she looked there would be no wound there. His curse kept him from aging. From dying. And he healed immediately from most wounds. He was far above human capability when it came to speed and hearing, and a few other perks too. All the coolness of being a vampire from a gothic novel, and none of the romance.

  No going to sleep in a coffin every morning and knowing that you’d wake up every single night to prowl with the world as your playground for an eternity for him. Nope. Instead he got to just look forward to a few weeks of sweet freedom and debauchery, then ‘enjoy’ being a block of stone for fifty years at a time.

  He stared at the pretty honey-blonde woman in front of him and said matter-of-factly, “Ms. Dalton, really…it’s superficial. He barely even punctured my jacket. And my name’s just Samson. No Mr.”

  Willow looked at him like he was crazy. “Have you been drinking? I saw the blood dripping out on the pavement. I know that dog bit the hell out of you!”

  She grabbed his injured arm before he could pull back, and was surprised to find that there was no wound. She turned his arm over looking for the bite, but it was clean as could be and the skin in perfect condition beneath the torn, blood soaked cotton sleeve. The jacket had a small tear but other than that it was indeed unscathed.

  “How?” Her brows knit together in disbelief. “There’s no way you could’ve taken a bite like that and not have a scratch!”

  A new thought crossed her mind as she started to back away further towards the sidewalk out of the alleyway, dragging Sasha with her.

  “Did you fake this whole thing? Are you some kind of weirdo or rapist or something?” her voice rose accusingly as she spoke.

  He smiled and sighed. She was really trying his patience now. Here he’d just saved her and her friend from a bloody mauling, complete with a nice case of rabies, and she was staring him down accusing him of being a rapist. Women were ungrateful, petty creatures in any century! That certainly hadn’t changed. But he did need an explanation. He looked down at his arm trying to think up something quickly while retaining his composure and not yelling back at her. He supposed she had reason to be a little afraid since he had no visible wounds and yet, she’d clearly seen him dripping blood a few moments ago before his skin had closed up and healed itself.

  “The dog obviously…well, it must’ve…bitten its own lip trying to take a chunk out of me.” He stumbled over the words while trying to look as honest as possible. He bent down to pull back the dog’s lips for effect, as Willow
backed up further, afraid to come too close.

  Samson had hoped this move would drive her off. He really needed to get rid of her so he could be on his way without any further questions. “Look. I’m fine. The dog’s fine. Believe me, I can take care of this. I’ll make sure that the dog goes to Animal Control. Really. I’m a big boy.”

  He smiled at her. A big boy. Yes, he certainly was. All six feet and something inches of him. Funny. The adrenaline rush was gone now, so why was everything moving in slow motion again? She shook off the feeling, trying to be professional. “Promise you will call and report it?”

  “Yes. I promise.”

  “Thank you again for what you did,” she conceded realizing that it was useless to argue with him anymore. He was a grown man and could take care of himself.

  He nodded. “It’s no problem. Really. I’m glad you’re alright.”

  She turned and started to walk away. Damn, she was pretty. And she seemed smart and nice too. He knew he shouldn’t do it, but the words escaped him before he could stop it.

  “Will I see you again? Maybe later?”

  She turned and looked back at him. “I seriously recommend that you get someone from the County to pick up the dog so it doesn‘t hurt anyone before you do anything else. And the bloody shirt? Not exactly the right look for a night on the town.”

  He shrugged. “It’s early. I just might be able to accomplish such a feat. And I agree…the blood doesn’t match the rest of my attire.” His laughter was warm and rich and good natured.

  “Well, if you get this handled and make it back here before closing….and if we‘re still here, I suppose you might see us,” she said cautiously, knowing it wasn’t likely that he’d get the dog into custody, get himself checked out at the ER if he would even bother to, and still have time to go home, shower, change clothes and make it back to Velvet. It was already almost 10pm.