original sin chapters 1-3

8/6/2019 Original Sin Chapters 1-3

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Chapter One

Beads of sweat dotted Nicole Erwin's skin when a tight grip closed around her armand squeezed. Ow, ow, ow! she screamed.

Relax, the nurse said, holding her arm firmly when she tried to pull away. Its

only the elastic band. I havent started yet.Sorry, Nicole apologized. Its my first time donating blood, and Im a little

scared.The nurses pinched face mellowed. Thats all right, hon. Try to focus on something

else. She searched around the room, and pointed. Just look at your friend over there.Nicole followed the nurses finger to her best friend, (the genius who talked her into

this nightmare) Mia Roundtree, two rows over. She gave a thumbs up when Mia lookedover and mouthed, are you okay? Normally, a trip to a medical office didn't makeNicole jittery. She'd visited many in her life, no problem, but for some reason, thegloomy atmosphere in the bloodmobile gave her an unsettling feeling: stutteringfluorescent lights, buzzing like radio static overhead, illuminated the confined space

with a green-white haze and sharp smelling antiseptic saturated the air with a pungentreek. And in a few short seconds, a total stranger was going to jab her with a pointedobject.

She turned her head back around and caught the nurse staring at her, eyes lockedand drawn together. Straight away, Nicole knew she was looking at the star-shaped birthmark on her forehead and with a casual flick, brushed her bangs over it. The nursedropped her gaze and adjusted the latex gloves on her hands, stirring tiny powder puffs when she snapped the bottoms against her wrists.

Giving Nicole a reassuring smile, she opened a pre-packaged alcohol pad shedpicked up from a metal tray attached to the cot. Droplets of sweat changed to full-onperspiration as Nicole watched her fumble the little square, causing a sudden sprout of

goose bumps to break out. The nurse placed the ice-cold pad in the crook of her armand each stroke seemed to drag endlessly as it tickled with soft, gentle flicks.Were halfway there, hon, the nurse said, throwing the pad on the tray. Just one

little prick, and itll all be over. Who knows? Youll probably save someones life with your donation. She leaned over and whispered as if she were telling a secret, When youre through, you can have a cookie and a cup of juice.

Yay, Nicole thought and glanced at Mia again, frowning when she saw her nibblingon a cookie and flirting with another victim on the cot beside her. Her first instinct wasto go over, smack the cookie out of her hand, and punch her in the face, but desperatefor money, she'd bitten the bullet and tagged along.

Mia and Nicole had moved to New York City almost a year ago, right after graduatingfrom Bradford University. Even though living in a huge metropolis such as New York was intimidating, the decision seemed like a good idea at the time, and since both haddegrees in elementary education (and New York teemed with hundreds of prestigiousschools), they were confident finding a job would be a breeze.

As luck would have it, Harbor Way Orphanage, an institution with a high reputationand deep Catholic roots, was taking applications for part-time teachers. Neither Mianor Nicole was religious, but they applied anyway, figuring full-time employment might be offered down the road. The pay was okay, but still, not enough to live oncomfortably. So, when Mia approached her with a flier from The National Bloodmobile


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exhaled. Absently, she rubbed the sore spot and watched the wisp float, and disappear.Great, she thought to herself. The radiator was out again.

Irritated, she pushed out of the bed and ran toward the bathroom, stepping high when her feet touched the icy hardwood floor. It was cold enough to hang meat in herapartment, and she made a mental note to tell her landlord, again , to fix the radiator he

promised to repair weeks ago. She'd lived in the apartment less than a year and hadnothing but trouble with the place.There was an upside: it was spacious, dirt-cheap, and located in a nice area on Ocean

Avenue, convenient to a market, newsstand, and a deli around the corner. Thedownside: her apartment was on the seventh floor, and the elevator rarely worked. Another problem: Harbor Way bordered Atlantic Avenue, close to Prospect Heights, andtraveling almost an hour to work five days a week was torture.

After a quick shower, Nicole shuffled to the kitchen in her thick robe and warm bunny slippers, smelling the air while the coffee maker brewed away. Grabbing a mugout of the cupboard, she poured a cup of coffee, and turned to fix her breakfast. Shepaused when she heard a noise outside in the hall, and walked to the door to peek through the peephole. Mr. MacDonald, her landlord, stood sideways in front of theapartment across from hers.

Selma, her neighbor, must have a problem.MacDonald sucked in his gut, checked his breath in the palm of his hand, and rang

the doorbell, beaming at Selma when it swung open.Nicole scowled. Men didnt act that way about her.Instinctively, she rubbed the birthmark on her forehead. That was part of her

problem. A huge star shaped mark, spreading from her crown to her brow, embeddeddeep within the folds of her skin. She'd consulted with several doctors and plasticsurgeons to remove it, but it was too far under the surface. Turning from the door, shegrabbed her cup off the kitchen table and went back to the bathroom. She'd just finisheddressing and was combing her hair when the doorbell rang.

Nicole sauntered down the hall, picking up the pace when Mia's muffled voice yelledfrom behind the door.

Hows it going, wimp? Mia teased when Nicole let her in.Nicole stuck out her tongue and turned to grab her purse off the kitchen table.Aw, dont be like that, Mia said, reaching in her tote. Look, I come bearing gifts.Nicole caught the bundle Mia threw at her and unfolded a blood red tee shirt. It read,

I saved a life today at the National Bloodmobile, and inserted between today andat in permanent marker, Mia had scrawled and passed out in bold letters. Nicolethrew the shirt on the table and flipped the bird.

Mia laughed and pushed her toward the door. Just kidding. Come on, puss. SisterFrancis Hell Cat will eat us for breakfast if we're late.

Outside, Nicole bunched her coat tightly around her as she stood on the sidewalk,shuffling from one foot to the other in the blistering cold while Mia leaned over the edgeto hail a cab. A taxi turned the corner at the end of the block and Mia stepped furtherout, waving frantically at the driver. A blast of wind whipped her long blonde hair intoher eyes; she lowered her hand and swatted it away, and then cursed when the taxirolled by without stopping.

Nicole chuckled. Even when Mia was angry, she was a knockout.The two had met their first year at Bradford, and immediately hit it off, despite their


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different backgrounds. Mia, a city girl from Chicago, came from a well-to-do, lovingfamily with three brothers and two sisters.

Nicole grew up on a small farm in Coalmont, Virginia, about forty-five miles south of Richmond-- the only child of Charles and Mary Erwin. Mary died shortly after Nicole's birth, and with no siblings or other female influences in her life, Nicole mostly spent

time alone. Her father, Charles didn't complain about the lack of quality time. He wasodd, always sullen, and didn't give the slightest inclination he cared for his daughter one way or the other.

He kept no reminders of Mary in the house--no photos or a wedding album, no oldclothes or family heirlooms, not a single imprint of her existence.

But to Nicole, the absence of her mother's image only made her presence stronger,and the vision of a beautiful woman with auburn hair and kind gray eyes, like hers, waspermanently etched in her mind. Over the years, Nicole's relationship with her fathergrew into nothing more than a co-existence; however, the negative experience yielded apositive outcome.

More than anything in the world, Nicole wanted to become a mother and the desiregrew incessantly as she matured. But unfortunately, when she was twelve, a car struck her while she was riding her bicycle, causing the handlebars to puncture her abdomen. At the hospital, a routine pelvic examination revealed severe scarring on her Fallopiantubes, eliminating the possibility of motherhood.

In high school, she opened up socially by joining several academic groups andtutored other students after school and on weekends.

She discovered she had a knack for teaching, and, after graduation, she applied for ascholarship to Bradford University, a small college located in Upstate New York,specializing in elementary education. Once accepted, she packed her bags and leftCoalmont to start a new life, not speaking a word to her father since.

Hey, wake up! Mia yelled and pulled her toward the cab.The morning commute was slow, more than usual, coming to ten minute standstills

in some places, and when the cab finally pulled up to Harbor Way the two womenscrambled inside.

Reverend Mother Francis stood at the end of the hall, hands perched on hips, foottapping and head shaking. Girls, she scolded, tucking the end of a salt and pepperringlet behind her ear, How are we to teach our young the meaning of responsibility when their teachers show up late?

Mia opened her mouth to say something, and Nicole elbowed her in the ribs.Were so sorry, Reverend Mother, Nicole answered, But cabs were scarce this

morning.Mother Francis narrowed her deep blue eyes. Well, girls, there were no cabs in

Jesus time, but he managed to show up and perform miracles.Yes, Reverend Mother, they said in unison.Mother Francis huffed and turned on her heel.See you at lunch, Mia said, and darted into her classroom. At her desk, Nicole plunked her tote on the floor and sighed heavily. She was in for a

rough week. Miss Swisher, the full-time detention monitor (warden was more like it)caught the flu, and Mother Francis requested she take over the class until Friday.

Nicole hated detention--no teaching was involved, just babysitting kids given aninfraction by the Reverend Mother for some reason or another.


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After roll call, Nicole gave the students their assignment and took out a magazinefrom the drawer, losing herself in the pages of her favorite movie stars lives for the restof the morning.

At lunch, she grabbed a salad and headed toward the table with the other teachers.Mia patted the seat next to her. I forgot to tell you, she said when Nicole scooted to

the table. I have a date with the man I was talking to at the bloodmobile yesterday.Mia smiled, dreamily. His name is Richard, hes a lawyer, and he's taking me outtonight.

Nicole responded with an exasperated sigh.What? Mia asked.Mia, you always meet the weirdest guys.Mia furrowed a brow. What do you mean?You know what I mean.No, I dont.Nicole stabbed at her plate. Okay, remember the man you met on the subway last

year who said he worked in pharmaceuticals?Mia thought a minute and winced.Nicole nodded. Yeah. It turned out he was, in fact, a drug smuggler. Oh, yes, and

the other time you went out with that guy who claimed he was an international antiquedealer?

Mia made a face this time.Now, what happened to him?" Nicole asked innocently and tapped her index finger

against her chin. "Oh, now I remember, she snapped. "Busted for selling forged copiesof Egyptian artifacts to the British Museum of Art.

Mia threw her napkin on the table. So? Whats your point? Jesus, Nicole, at least Isocialize for crying out loud. You havent had a date in a thousand years.

Mias face softened when Nicole shot her a dirty look. Im sorry. That was harsh.But Im serious. Go out more, find a dude, get laid.

Nicole shrugged. I know, but I dont have time.Mia laughed. Ha! I can call your apartment or show up any hour of the day, and

youre there. Lets face it, girl, you need some spice in your salsa.Nicole stopped stabbing her salad and widened her eyes. She knew when she was

being set up. She turned to Mia. "Okay, spill it.What? Mia asked, feigning stupidity.Nicole slowly shook her head. "Don't 'what' me!"Mia nervously picked at a potato chip on her plate. Okay, Richard has a friend, and I

told him we'd double.Nicole jumped up and grabbed her tray, making a beeline for the trashcan at the end

of the table.Mia quickly followed and planted herself on the other side of the trashcan, staring

harshly at the top of Nicole's head while she scraped the remnants of her half-eatensalad in the bin. Listen, Nicole, this guys okay. He's a lawyer, too. Albert or Alex orsomething. He's real sweet.

"Pffft!" Nicole sputtered and whipped her head up. "And you know this how?"Okay, I dont know the guy, Mia confessed, But Richard says hes really cool.

Come on. What harm can it do?Nicole arched an eyebrow as if to say 'Do you really have to ask?'


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Mia sighed. Fine, well go to a movie, out to eat and then straight home, promise.Nicole pursed her lips and plunked her tray on the dirty dish rack beside the

trashcan. All right, she relented, turning back to Mia. This one time.Mia jumped up and down with excitement.But listen, Nicole said, pointing at her, If this guy is a freak and it turns out he's an

escaped mental patient from a nut hospital, Im beating the crap out of you.Mia crossed her heart. Thanks, itll be great, she said, grinning from ear to ear. Dont count on it, Nicole thought and headed back to class.

* * * *

Gratefully, the rest of the day dragged slowly. The impending date hung overNicole like a cloud of doom, and when the dismissal bell rang, she regretted going home. After class, she met Mia out front and they grabbed a cab.

They rode in silence most of the way and when the cab screeched to a halt in front of Nicole's building, she quickly jumped out and headed for the door.

Well meet you here around eight, Mia yelled at her back. Dont worry. Youll befine.

Nicole threw her hand up, acknowledging she heard her, and went inside.Twenty minutes later, after changing and relaxing on the couch with a cozy book, the

phone rang, and immediately, Nicole knew who it was. Ill be ready, Mia, she said,into the receiver when she answered, and slammed it down.

She plopped back down on the sofa, and picked up the book laying on the armrest.Before long and against her will, she was fast asleep. An hour and a half later, the phonerang again. Nicole threw the book across the room and scrambled for it.

Hello? she said, still half asleep.I knew it! Mia yelled. Up and at 'em, Sunshine! Pronto!All right, all right. Sheesh!Mia grunted. Dont screw this up Nicole.Okay, smart alack, Ill...Fine, Mia interrupted. Ill see you in two hours!Nicole hung up and went to the bedroom closet, frowning when she scanned her

wardrobe. Not knowing the first thing about this guy (not even his name) she didn'tknow what to wear. Two years had passed since her last date, and she was oblivious totodays fashions. An idea came to her and she snapped her fingers. She ran down thehall, opened her door and pounded on Selmas.

Just a minute, came a muffled voice from behind the door. It flung open andSelma drew her eyes into slits, looking Nicole up and down as stepped in the threshold.

Nicole smiled, faintly. Um, Im sorry, Selma. But, I, um, well.Selma crossed her arms in front of her chest and leaned against the door jamb.

What do you want? she asked, puffing out her bottom lip and blowing a strand of dark hair out of her eyes.

Nicole swallowed and spoke in a rush. Selma, my friend set me up on a blind dateand I dont have anything to wear and youre the only person I know whos in style and I was wondering

You want to borrow an outfit from me.Nicole nodded.


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Selma squealed and flashed a set of perfectly capped teeth. Well, its about time.She dragged Nicole toward the bedroom. I was worried about you, honey.

Worried about me? Nicole repeated, confused.Selma opened the closet and turned back to her. Yeah, I thought you were a

lesbian.

* * * *

After checking her reflection in the full-length mirror at the foot of the bed for theumpteenth time, Nicole glanced at her watch. 8:10. Mia was late, as usual. Letting out afrustrated sigh, she adjusted the top of the sleeveless black dress Selma let her borrow.She was ready for this night to be over. The dress, although very stylish, hugged her body like a second skin, cutting off her air and making her itch.

She teetered to the bathroom on the six-inch heels Selma insisted she wear andtouched up her lip-gloss, then added another coat of mascara to her eye lashes. Thedoorbell rang and Nicole stumbled out of the bathroom down the hall, tripping on thephone cord halfway. Righting herself, she wobbled to the door and slowly opened it.

Hello! Mia said, overzealous.The overenthusiastic greeting pinged Nicoles ' something's wrong' radar. She

peeked over Mia's shoulder, losing her breath when a strapping, tall, dark-haired mansmiled from behind her.

Hello, he said, politely.H-hello, Nicole stuttered, squeezing Mias arm with delight.Mia looped her arm through his. Nicole, this is my date, Richard.Oh, Nicole said, not hiding the disappointment in her voice.And this, Mia said, reaching behind Richard and guiding a man around, Is your

date, Alan .Nicole's stomach churned when Alan, an extremely short man, with dark, greasy

hair, horn-rimmed glasses, and acne scars pitting his face, stepped into the light.Oh...my...God, Nicole thought as she briefly ran her eyes over him. The out-dated navy polyester suit he sported was too big, and to make up for the awkward fit, he rolled thesleeves of his jacket up, leaving a two-inch cuff on both sides of his wrists. Alan ran ahand through his hair and smiled, revealing a large gap in his front teeth.

Nice to meet you, milady, he purred.Nicole swallowed the lump in her throat and extended a hand.Mia turned. Are you ready? she asked over her shoulder.Nicole grabbed her arm. Actually, I need something out of the bedroom. Mia?

Come with me?Mia told the men to wait outside while Nicole half-ran, half-stumbled down the hall.Back in the bedroom, Mia immediately went on the defensive. I know. I had no

idea he was a nerd, she said, holding her hands up in surrender when Nicole glared ather.

Jesus H. Christ, Nicole whispered. This guys not a nerd. A nerd is someonecategorized along with other nerds. A nerd has a place in society, hangs out and datesanother nerd, then marries said nerd and has nerd babies, therefore completing thecycle of the nerd population.

Im sorry, Mia said, out of the corner of her mouth. Hes Richards old college


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roommate-- in town for a reunion or something. What should I say? Oh, um, excuse megeeky guy, but my friend will have a cow if she sees you, blah, blah, blah. Geez, lightenup, Nicole.

Nicole crossed her arms in front of her chest. Lighten up! All right then. If hes not bad, you take him and Ill take Richard.

Mia put her hands on her hips. Oh, no, no. I found Richard, and Im going out withhim.Well, if it werent for me, you wouldnt have met, Nicole stated matter-of-factly.Yeah, and if you weren't such a wuss, you could find your own damn dates, Mia

came back at her. Look, she said. Lets go to dinner, catch a flick and blow these guysoff after, okay?

Nicole's shoulders slumped in defeat.Mia sighed, wrapped an arm around Nicoles waist and squeezed, laughing softly as

she guided her out of the bedroom and back down the hall. At the door, Nicole placed a hand on the knob, then pointed at Mia. Dinner, movie,

home, she said, shaking her finger.Mia extended her pinky. Pinky swear, she promised and smiled.Nicole crossed herself and turned the knob. Okay, let's get this over with.


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CHAPTER TWO Life is never boring being a vampire . That's what Kellan Donnolly thought as he

looked out his fathers home office window, watching glimmering snowflakes twirlagainst a background of purplish-blue dusk.

Moments like these weren't commonly associated with his kind: peaceful, calm,soothing. And although Kellan retained the appearance of youth and vitality, he felt alot different now than when he was first reborn.

Mistakes--yes, hed made many throughout his long life but with his father, Simonspainstaking tutelage, Kellan learned to harness the gift and, over the centuries, acceptedit with unreserved tolerance. There was one thing however which truly bothered him:He had no recollection of his mortal life prior to his transformation except the death of his mother, Catherine. Indirectly, she was the reason he was the daunting creature he istoday.

It was the year 1028 in Dublin, Ireland when twenty-five year old Kellan converted toa life of evil, after being sentenced to hang for killing the man who murdered Catherine.On the eve of his execution, Simon came to see him, claiming he was his father. Hemade no excuses for his twenty-five year absence; instead, he told a story. The story of Kellan's destiny. When offered an alternative to the gallows and the opportunity to liveforever, well, Kellan could hardly refuse.

Kellan turned away from the window, sat in his fathers high back executive chair,and propped his feet on the desk. He loved their monstrous French Baroque chateau,nestled in a secluded grotto in the Colorado Rockies. But out of all the elaborately decorated and exquisitely furnished three floors and fifty rooms, his favorite was hisfathers office. He leaned back to enjoy the solitude, and rested his gaze on a full body portrait of Simon hanging over the fireplace. He was still as young as the day he posedfor the painting, over three hundred years ago.

At 6'4, Simon was an intimidating individual, with broad shoulders and long armsand legs. His meaty hands were thick, and on the right middle finger-- a huge ruby ring:a gift presented to him and eleven other vampires, known as the Elders, by their master, Ahava, as a symbol of their status.

Although Kellan and Simon had the same dark coloring and resembled somewhat,Kellan was an inch taller, and his eyes were brown, not blue like his father's. Butultimately, it was his new fad 'emo', a title given to the sullen and emotional (hence thename) youth of the day which clearly separated the two. While Kellan embraced thenew to the point of spiking his hair, coloring it bright blue or fire-engine red, wearingstretch bracelets on both wrists, placing leather straps necklaces around his neck andpiercing his bottom lip with 'snakebites', Simon eschewed anything modern. Instead, hepreferred a more stylish approach by keeping his hair cropped short and dressing inlavishly tailored three-piece suits.

Kellan jerked his legs off the desk and sat up quickly when a floorboard creaked inthe hall. Connor, their servant and Protector, stood in the door. Do you needanything? he asked, leaning against the jamb.

No thanks, Kellan said, waving him off.Very good, Ill make my rounds then, he said and left.Kellan stood and tiptoed to the door, then gently closed it and secured the latch. He

liked Connor, but he was bad about snitching to Simon if he thought he was up to


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something. Connor, a man of great power in his former life, often forgot who served whom.

Kellan yawned and stretched, and then shuffled to a large, oak bookshelf in thecorner. He snapped his fingers, smiling when Simon's favorite book, A Night in the Lifeof a Vampire by Bret Dubois, flew off the shelf and landed in his hand. Out of all the

vampire stories circulated throughout human existence, Dubois theory of their origin was the closest. Kellan rubbed the etched covering, remembering when Simon first bought it and the panic it had caused.

Confirming the usual telltale abilities of vampires: reading minds, altering thoughts,immeasurable strength, the capability to fly, Dubois added another twist to the vampirerepertoire, something a mere mortal couldn't conjure out of pure imagination. Afterreading it, Simon thought perhaps a real vampire conspired with Dubois, but afortunate turn of events put his fears to rest.

A year after the book was published, Dubois, for some unknown reason, committedsuicide. If a real vampire had revealed the details of the inner workings of their society,the knowledge was buried with him.

Kellan placed the book back on the shelf and went to a large glass box resting on aplatform beside the bookcase. An ancient text, written over two thousand years ago,inscribed The Beginning , rested inside. The aged outer covering and leather binding was falling apart, but most importantly, were the copper pages it protected.

Written in human blood, the pages documented the history of their kind and theevents of their creation. The book also foretold a prophecy; one if went unfulfilled, would mean the destruction of the entire vampire race.

Kellan had never read the book, but Simon had told him the story. The story of theircreator, Ahava and his severance with Lucifer, the reason for his rebirth, and the childhe was to father by the Daughter, a woman whose blood was imperative for theirsurvival.

The knob on the library door turned, followed by a loud thud knocking against it.What the...! Simon's voice said.Kellan clicked the latch before Simon could work it open, and stepped back.Why did you lock the door? Simon asked when he entered.Kellan pointed at the bookshelf. I was looking at the Book of Beginnings .Simon quickly went over and examined the case.I didnt touch it, Kellan said, rudely. A small grin spread on Simons face. I believe you, Kellan, he said and sat at the

desk. Now, what were you really doing?Kellan laughed, nervously. Okay, Connor sneaked in while I watched the snow. He

scared the hell out of me, Dad.Simon pulled a Cuban out of a cigar box and clipped the end. Yes, well, thats his

job Kellan--to scare the hell out of people. How else is he supposed to protect us? heasked, raising an eyebrow.

Kellan plopped down in a chair across from the desk. Yeah, I know, Dad, but his jobis to scare humans, not me.

Well, if you were, um, I dunno, propping your feet on my six-thousand dollar desk, you wouldnt be so jumpy now, would you? Simon smiled and lit the cigar.

Damn, Connor ratted him out. Kellan shrugged. Did you sleep well? I did, thank you. You?


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Yes. I woke up early to watch the snow. I love this time of year. Kellan lookedtoward the window and Simon leaned back, following his gaze to the falling flurry outside.

Kellan went to the desk and sat on the edge. Are you hungry?Simon thought about it and nodded. A little. He stubbed the cigar and rose from

the chair. Well, where do you want to go tonight? L.A., Chicago, New York?Kellan and Simon always hunted away from home; it was safer.Lets go for L.A.All right, L.A. it is, Simon said. He brushed a piece of lint off his sleeve, then held

his hand in mid-air and looked at Kellan, disdainfully. Are you wearing that?Kellan groaned. Simon didn't understand Kellan's fascination with what he called a

'misguided sense of judgment' and the two argued about it on a regular basis. But toKellan, being twenty-five forever had its advantages and he was going to live it up.Human females adored him, he read their thoughts when he mingled among them, andsome thought he resembled the famous movie star, Bryce Deveraux. Not a badcomparison in Kellan's book.

Yes, I am," Kellan said, giving him a defiant glare.Simon frowned. The idea is to blend in, not stand out and call attention. He

pointed to the hoops in Kellans bottom lip. Why did you pierce your face? Kellan, youre so handsome. He shook his head. I don't understand you.

You know, Kellan said, bending the upper half of his body toward Simon. Ithought about getting a few tattoos.

Simons face fell in horror.Maybe a full sleeve, or my entire back. I know, he said, snapping his fingers. A

full body tat like the Yakuza or something.Kellan laughed when Simon pursed his lips and sat back down. Simon sat there for a

moment; shoulders slumped, staring at the top of the desk in a daze, like something was bothering him.

Whats wrong? Kellan asked.Simon smiled, faintly. Nothing.Kellan could read his fathers mind if he wanted, but out of respect, he asked again.

Dad, what is it?Simon sighed. Kellan, The Elders and I are concerned with your apparent lack of

interest in finding the Daughter. As you know, the time frame for the fulfillment of theprophecy draws near, and yet you havent searched for her for centuries. The Elders areconcerned you're not living up to your obligation.

Kellan grunted. How is that my fault? Dad, for centuries we struggled to surviveand finding the Daughter had to wait. Humans used to fear us, and when theirtechnology and lack of faith spread, well, protecting ourselves came first.

Simon held up a hand. No one blames you, Kellan. I know youve tried. So do theother Elders, but, we felt you needed help. He sighed and shook his head. I didnt want to tell you like this but...

Tell me what? Kellan asked.Kellan, for over twenty years, the Elders and I have used our connections with The

National Blood Association to find the Daughter. In 1986, John Westfields Protector, Adrian Brenner, read an article in the Medical News Journal about a young scientistnamed Winston Defries, who successfully extracted proteins from human blood and


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matched them to a genetic code.DNA, Kellan said.Simon nodded. John instructed Adrian to offer Winston employment with the

Association under the guise of finding a cure for HIV. DNA extraction restored our hopein finding the Daughter, and John devised a scheme to ensure our success. He

convinced Winston he was working on a highly secretive project. As you know, Johncollaborated with the French team of physicians in 1983 that discovered HIV, and told Winston he had a theorythat a small percentage of females carry a unique genetictrait-- a similar protein of HIV in its pure form, causing immunity.

Once the protein is found and isolated in an uninfected female, a vaccine is thencreated, thus preventing the virus from mutating and causing AIDS. He provided Winston a bogus blood sample supposedly from an HIV infected individual to extract itsDNA and compare to blood donations taken at our blood banks from uninfected donorsfor a potential match.

John didnt lie, and told him it could be years before a match was found, andcompensated him greatly in an effort to keep him on the project and not reveal his work.

Winston thought he extracted the DNA of HIV, but in reality, it was the Daughtersgenetic code. John gave the other Elders and me, a copy and we hired technicians, like Winston, to perform the same test using samples from donations at our global blood banks.

In 1990, our Bloodmobile program enabled us to collect donations in rural areas allover the country. The program was so successful we expanded it to our global outfitsand tested millions of samples, but to no avail. The Elders are losing faith, and doing your part is crucial for when or if we find her.

What do I need to do? Kellan asked.Accept your responsibilities, Simon said, firmly. If the others see youre making

an effort, it'll restore their hope.Kellan sighed. Yeah, but what if the Daughter turns out to be an eighty-year old

woman? He shuddered.Simon clucked his tongue. Kellan, don't be ridiculous. The prophecy clearly states

the Daughter will be of child bearing age. We're only testing older females to keep thescheme going.

Yeah, but here's a news flash, Dad. There's no guarantee the Daughter will walk inone of our blood banks and make a donation.

Simon agreed. True. But what else can we do? We have to try, and I'm confident,one way or another, we'll find her.

Kellan grunted. "Really? How?Simon winked. Faith, son. I have faith.Kellan grinned. Touch. All right, say we find her. What happens when she

conceives?Simon leaned back in the chair and dropped his eyes.Dad?Simon opened his mouth and a knock on the door interrupted him.Yes, Connor, come in, he said.Connor poked his head in. Ive completed my rounds.Simon rose from the chair and pushed it under the desk. Thank you, Connor,


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That'll be all.Very well, he said, then glanced at Kellan and stuck out his tongue before he closed

the door.Kellan made a face and mouthed asshole.Well, son, are you ready? Simon asked, strumming his fingers on the back of the

chair. I'm famished.Kellan wanted to finish their talk, but he knew all too well Simon's nervous tappingindicated the discussion was over. Yeah, Dad, he said in a low voice. Im ready.

Simon went to the door and opened it. Well then, lets eat!


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Chapter Three

Winston glanced at the clock above the lab door and let out a haggard sigh. It wasafter midnight and he was just about to call it a night when the National Bloodmobiletruck pulled up with more samples. He hit the top of his desk angrily. Candy, hisfavorite prostitute, arranged a meeting with him, and now, it looked as if ol Winston was shit out of luck.

Normally, he was out by sunset, but Adrian Brenner made a new rule to test all bloodsamples as soon as they came in. He cursed Adrian under his breath. He had no ideahow difficult extracting and coding the samples were--sometimes fifty a night, but aftermany years with the NBA, Winston learned to zip his lip.

It could be worse, at his age, finding a job in his particular field was suicide, and theperks as an NBA employee was top notch. His standard salary was $750,000 a yearalong with an apartment on Fifth Avenue (completely furnished, of course) a brand new car every two years and ten percent profit share in the company. Not to mention entirereign over the lab. The lab amassed an arsenal of micro tube racks, PCR plates, sealingmats, centrifuges, pipettes, FTA cards, electro gel and the latest and most up-to-dateequipment for DNA processing. He'd even constructed a small office in back as a makeshift bedroom for the nights he worked late and didnt feel like driving home.

Although the NBA had treated him well, he still hadn't found a match for the HIV protein, and the monotonous routine of testing strangers blood with no success grew stagnant. He thought about quitting a few times, despite his cushy ride. But out of the blue, Adrian offered a bonus or sent him on a luxurious vacation (all expense paid) as if he knew he was ready to pull up and head out. Adrian, with his long, white hair, pale blue eyes and colorless skin, possessed an irresistible charm, having the uncanny ability to persuade Winston to stick it out.

John Westfield, on the other hand, was a sort of enigma with an eerie flair. He didn'ttalk much( hardly at all to Winston) and his bright green eyes always flashed withamusement, like he was privy to a secret no one else knew. Winston also couldn't help but notice John's physical appearance hadn't changed in the slightest--not in the twenty years he'd known him. His dark hair was still as rich as they day they'd met and his oliveskin showed no signs of wrinkles or blemishes-- nothing to indicate he aged at all.

He reached for the phone, called Candy to cancel their date, and walked to the back dock to retrieve the cooler the Bloodmobile driver placed in the security hatch inside thedoor.

Winston rolled the cart to his workstation and looked at the ID tag on the cooler,relieved there were only ten samples. After putting the samples in the fridge, he

snapped on a pair of latex gloves and prepared.He removed a DNA prep tube, micro tube and pipette from their wrappers, laid themon the table, and went back to the fridge for the first sample. Logging the donor's nameon two sticky labels, he stuck one on the blood packet and one on the prep tube, thencarefully withdrew the blood with a hypodermic needle from the top of the bag, andinserted it the tube. A buffer containing cell lysis and protein-deleting agent was added,and the mixture spun at 6000xg for thirty seconds in a centrifuge.

Next a wash buffer and desalting buffer went in, then mixed at 12000xg for thirty


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seconds, and finally, the ethanol, the agent that extracted the DNA proteins. Afterletting it set at room temperature for fifteen minutes, Winston inserted the sample intothe electro gel and placed it in the electro scanner to separate the markers andtransform them into numbered codes.

The sample scanned for thirty minutes, and when complete, the codes transferred

electronically to the mainframe computer to analyze against thousands of HIV proteinsin their databank for potential matches. At 5:37 am, when the last sequence was entered, Winston sat back and rubbed his

eyes. There was no way he was driving back to the city. No point since Candy wasnt waiting, so he headed toward the cot in back.

He'd only been asleep for what seemed a few minutes when a strange beeping soundroused him. At first, he thought he was at home in his own bed and slapped at the air by the cot to turn off the alarm clock. He leaned over further when he couldnt find it andtoppled to the floor, landing with a thud. The impact woke him immediately. He stoodup, rubbed his aching head and stumbled toward the noise, stopping at the door whilehe scanned the room.

Everything looked normal--nothing was flashing or buzzing. Cocking his head, helistened again, realizing the noise came from the office. He ran to the desk, pushed thechair out of the way and looked at the computer monitor.

DNA MATCH, flashed in bold red letters.He sat down and entered the clearance code to confirm the match, then jumped up

to retrieve the clipboard from the workstation. A few seconds later, the computerdisplayed the identification number.

Winston scanned the clipboard, running a finger down the page until he located thedonor's name. Woo! he screamed and danced a little jig. I did it!

He grabbed the phone to call Adrian, but put it back. Maybe he should wait. Adrian would insist on retesting the sample to be sure. Winston sighed and begrudgingly retested. Eight hours later, he verified the match again and called Adrian.

Well hello, Winston, Adrian said flatly when he answered. Winston cleared his throat. Hello, Adrian. I have good news.Wonderful, he said in the same dull tone. Whats your good news, my boy? Winston took a deep breath. Ive found a match.There was a long silence, before Adrian asked, Are you sure? Winston frowned. Yes, quite sure. I ran the sample twice, and both tests came back

positive.Well, another pregnant pause, That is good news. Ill tell John immediately. Hell

want to hear this right away. Winston, youd better come to the corporate office and bring all the information with you.

Of course, Adrian. Im on my way, he said and hung up.

* * * *

Adrian snapped his cell phone shut and turned to John. Winston's found a match,he said, crossing over and sitting in a chair in front of Johns desk. Hes on his way here now.

John hoisted an eyebrow. Is he sure?He said he ran the test twice. Shall I call Simon? Adrian asked.


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Not yet. Lets confirm it ourselves before involving him. John went to the window,looked down at the street, and laced his hands behind him. If Winston did succeed, wehave to put a muzzle on him, he said. But how?

Adrian smiled and leaned forward in the chair. I think I can help there. Ive worked with him closely for years, and I feel he trusts me and values my opinion.

John turned. Go on.Ill simply tell him he deserves an extended vacation, a gift for all his hard work anddedication to the project. When he returns, the red carpet will be rolled out, and every reporter in the world will scramble to interview the brilliant scientist who discovered theHIV protein match in an uninfected donor.

John arched his hands and put them to his mouth. Yes, thats all well and good, but will he buy it?

He might, but if not, Adrian shrugged, well, perhaps you can persuade him.John smiled, catching his drift immediately. Adrian, he said, shaking his head.

You know the mind control is only temporary. It worked to keep him from leaving us, but he can contact the media on his own once the spell wears off. Especially if he's outof our reach.

Adrian nodded and gave him a benign smile.John sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. All right, Adrian, let's confirm the

match first and worry about Winston later. He leaned toward him. If Winston's claimis valid, it's important we keep our eyes open. No doubt when Lucifer sees the buzz of activity weve suddenly engaged in, it will most assuredlypeak his interest.

The buzzer on the wall monitor went off. Adrian walked over and looked. Winstons here.John smoothed out his suit and reached for a cigarette case in the lapel pocket. Let

him in, he said and lit a cigarette. When Adrian left, John went back to the window and looked out over the city,

unaware of the sinister figure lurking in the alley across the street.

* * * Arius, the demon scout, watched Winston Defries enter the lobby of the National

Blood Associations corporate office. He turned his head slightly, feeling somethingslide down the side of his face and land on the ground with a dull thunk . He cast hiseyes down. A decayed, shriveled ear lay beside his shoe. He picked it up, and threw it ina nearby trashcan.

The human he took over a few days ago was decomposing--time to discard the putridmass. The bad thing about inhabiting a human was-- it killed them instantly, only thedemons presence kept them functional. Unfortunately, the new form rendered theirpowers useless until deterioration set in, and forced them to find another.

Arius watched the building a few more minutes, then went behind a dumpster at theend of the alley. He placed his fingers in the center of his eyes and pushed in, jammingthe eyeballs back into his skull, then pulled, ripping the foul smelling carcass away fromhis body hidden underneath.

He kicked the shredded remains aside and stood up all the way. Thin arms and legs,covered in scaly green hide, lengthened as they stretched to their natural shape. Longtalons pushed through rough skin, sprouting from his hands and feet; sharp earsprotruded out of an elongated skull, and orange-red flamed eyes blinked to adjust to the


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sunlight. Thin lips spread over small, jagged teeth in a cruel smile; bat-like wingssprung from a hunched back, kicking up clouds of dust when they unfurled. Arius shook his body and glanced at the building one more time before leaping into the sky to reporthis findings to Lucifer.

original sin chapters 1-3

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