Read The Progeny (The Progeny Series) Online
Authors: Ashlynne Laynne
The Progeny (The Progeny Series)
Novel Concept Publishing
The Progeny
© May 2012 Ashlynne Laynne
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The Progeny
Book One
ASHLYNNE LAYNNE
For my mother, the late Brenda R. Martin, and grandmother, the late Mary Lowrance: I learned to love, because you loved me. I learned strength by watching you. You didn’t live long enough to see my characters come into fruition, but they are as much a part of you as they are of me. You are gone but never forgotten.
For Mark: My
unbelievable
and
eternal
love.
For Leanore Elliott: For giving me some of the best advice. “The story
always
comes first, Little Ashlynne.
Always
protect your story.”
Contents
Four
: A Mathematical Certainty
Twenty-Three
: Mortal Problem with Immortal Solutions
Glossary
Blocker
- a human whose mind cannot be channeled or read.
Blooded Witch
- one who is bound, by blood, to a coven of sisters.
Bloodstone
- name given to the stones, of blood red color, that are the actual blessed ashes of Andreas Rousseau. An amulet with a bloodstone is given to all his vampiric blood descendants, and their changed mates, to protect against burning in the sun.
Changeling
- a son or daughter that results from being turned into a vampire.
Channeling
– to consciously linking to another being’s mind. Vampires can only channel humans. Ascher can channel both humans and vampires.
Darkling
- a soldier vampire bred to seek out and destroy individuals.
Half-bloodling or half-blood
- a being born of a mortal mother and immortal father, half vampire and half human; may also be known as an imperfect vampire.
Mind shifter
- a human who can control the opening and closing of their mind.
Natural witch
- one who is born with strong tendencies towards witchcraft. These individuals usually have two or more witches in their ancestral line. A child born of a witch mother usually possesses the strongest and most unusual of the dark gifts.
Quickening
- the ability of a vampire or half- bloodling to touch another from a distance, this person would most likely be an object of his/her affection.
Screamer
– a human with abnormally loud thoughts.
Subliminal
- (1) a mental suggestion used, by vampires, to hypnotize or program humans. (2) Telepathy used, by Ascher, to communicate with his family and other vampires. Only a half-bloodling can send a subliminal to another vampire.
Trinity
- a human possesses the trinity if he/she is a vegetarian, virgin, and doesn’t drink alcoholic beverages. One of these properties drives an immortal mad. Possessing all three makes an individual’s blood the “perfect storm” of deliciousness, making them irresistible.
“No fate other than the one I choose.”
Rousseau Family Creed
Prologue
~ The Beginning
Salem, Massachusetts September 13, 1692
“Hang him
, burn him. Kill the sorcerer!”
“You are all mad fools!” the prisoner yelled, pushing through the angry mob.
Two enforcers waited atop the dirt hill—one in a black shroud, the other with a blank expression on his weather beaten face.
“You’ll burn in hell!” a woman screamed, tossing a rock at him.
“I’m
not
guilty!”
“Up
, you go.” Two executioners laughed, as they tied him to the wooden chair and watched as the masked enforcer approached with a glowing torch.
“Do you want to repent and save your wretched soul before you depart this Earth?” the masked enforcer questioned through his black disguise.
Across the field, the prisoner spotted his son, Jonas, and grandson, Gabriel, staring at the pyre with horror and rage in their eyes.
He spit at the enforcer then shouted, “You people are all crazy! Don’t think for a minute that it won’t be
you
next time! All it takes is one false accusation and any of you could be standing where I am!”
“Enough stalling
, just kill him!” another woman screamed.
“Silence,” Andreas shouted
. “You blood thirsty wench!”
“Andreas Rousseau, having been charged and found guilty of the crime of witchcraft, your punishment is now being enforced. God have mercy on your soul.”
As the glowing embers rose and the flames licked at him, he laughed and growled.
The crowd gasped in horror.
“I die a fast and painless death,” he shouted, his body writhing inside the flames. “The towns of Salem, Sheridan, Ipswich, and Langley will be cursed for many generations to come. My blood will avenge me, and my death is only the beginning. Damn you!” He groaned as the flames licked his cold skin. “Damn you all!”
A blood-curdling scream rose from the combustion as Andreas’
s body melted, becoming part of the embers and smoke.
Later that night, after the townsfolk returned to the villages, Gabriel and Jonas gathered his fiery red ashes into an ur
n and took them back to France.
The
misery of the past can bleed through to subsequent generations, leaving its stain on all who inherit the lineage. Genetics aren’t always the common denominator in a family. Pain can be a very powerful entity, making it a determining factor in the path of future generations. Every bloodline has a history, every family a story. This was the beginning of his…
One
~ Matters of Destiny
Langley, Massachusetts December 30, 2010
The night was luminous, a million stars twinkling in the distant sky.
Ascher sat perched atop the highest peak on Laurel Pointe, his favorite place to pass time. He hovered, just enough that the tips of his feet skimmed the rocky cliff ledge.
This high up
, he could pretend that the stresses of his life didn’t exist. Here, he was normal—just a guy passing time, watching the city lights of Sheridan. Only, that wasn’t true.
He’d never be
normal
.
It was a beautiful night, but he couldn’t enjoy it. Tonight was the night that topped off the day from hell. It was December
30—the day by which all the other insufferable days would never match in its loathsomeness.
It was his birthday.
A rumbling came, followed by a distant chuckling that spurred deep aggravation in Ascher. It could be only one person, Quinn.
“I thought I told you
, I wanted to be left alone,” Ascher seethed through clenched teeth, his neon eyes piercing the black night while the wind whipped through his dark hair.
“Dude, it’s your birthday.
You need to chillax and have some fun.”
“Well, happy birthday to me
,” he mumbled. “Another year older and I’m
still
a liar. I’m engaged to seal to a woman I don’t love. I carry our family’s secret inside me while I pretend to be human, when—”
“Quit torturing yourself,
” Quinn interrupted. “
You
have to feed.”
A growl escap
ed Ascher's lips. “I’m a cursed abomination who shouldn’t be here!” The wretched burning in his throat intensified, tormenting him, causing his body to quiver. “I thirst for blood. I’m a baby faced eighty-seven year old, and that's just wrong!”
Ascher
despised birthdays and the inescapable knowledge that he was forever unchanging. When he was younger, he rebelled against the gatherings, choosing to feed on the blood of animals and drink donations from the blood bank. He managed to abstain, but only for a short while.
Unlike his full-blooded vampire brothers, Ascher was a half-bloodling—born of a human mother and vampire father. He inherited the best of both beings. His ageless appearance,
agility, amazing speed, and insatiable appetite for blood made him immortal. A beating heart and the uncommon warmth emanating from his pale skin were the uncommon traits of his mortality.
Quinn stepped across the rocky cliff, jumping from one ledge to another.
Ascher glowered at him, irritated, and his patience thin with his brother’s juvenile antics. “I’ve told you a million times
not
to do that!”
“You’re such a buzz kill! You really need to chill out. It’s no wonder we call you the reluctant vampire.”
Ascher glared at his much too optimistic and modernized brother. “I don’t need to
chill out
.
You
need to act your age and what’s with your language? You’re one hundred ninety-one years old. It’s about time for you to act your age!” He returned to his reflective train of thought. “I feel like there's something else I should be doing with my existence.”
Quinn stood silent.
“I shouldn’t have to give up my single existence, just because Klaus
claims
to know best.” He clenched his fists. “I
don’t
love her, Quinn. I could never love someone so cold and shallow. All she’s interested in is getting her hands on a bloodstone.”
“
That
's the difference between you and me. You have that dreadful human conscience thing. Must be that beating heart of yours.”
“I just wish there was another way
, and what if the
right
woman comes along? It’ll be too late.”
Quinn hovered
and floated to his brother’s side. “
You
have to feed, Ash. You remember how it was when you tried to abstain. We thought you’d die. You stayed in the infirmary for a week. If Father hadn’t stored your blood, for such an emergency, you wouldn’t have made it. I never want to see you like that again.”
Ascher flinched, remembering that dark time in his life.
“As for Ursula,” Quinn continued, “I don’t have an answer for you. I don’t see the point in sealing or marriage. There is no right woman, only a woman that’s good for right now. The world is our smorgasbord and we should take our existences as they come. Indulge in every pleasure we desire.”
“You
would
say that,” Ascher retorted. “Thanks for nothing. I guess it does no good to complain about it now. My throat is in flames and the sealing is in two months.”
The burning was the worst part. The excruciating fire rendered him crazed, made him an unwilling puppet to an insatiable and unquenchable need. Even after a feed, the desire for more still existed. It was always there hiding
and lurking, just waiting for the subtle pulse of a carotid or the sweet smell of a baby to trigger it.
“Ash, we need to go. You have to feed
, and then you’ll feel better about things tomorrow.”
Ascher shook his head with disgust.
Tomorrow was just the continuation of this unending hell.
* * * *
Ascher settled into a booth, away from the main flow of foot traffic. He preferred solitude when he sulked. The
women
paraded around the bar like beauty contestants waiting to perform a talent routine. It was obvious which ones were there to offer their
services
. The distant and dull, brain washed glint in their eyes always exposed them.
“Wow, the selection is outstanding tonight!”
Ascher hated when his brother said things like that. “You say
selection
like they’re a herd of cattle to be bid on.” His throat burned as he noticed the swan like curve and subtle pulsing of one girl’s neck. A strong whiff of delicious liquid essence wafted past his nose as another girl flew by him. How satisfying the warm flow would feel as it quenched his parched throat. Anticipation tightened his stomach, making his mouth water and his muscles tingle and bunch with expectations of the feed.
“Can I get you something from the bar?” Carrie asked, her bright brown eyes
narrowing in on Quinn.
“Nothing for me,” Ascher replied
, skimming the room with a bored gaze.
Quinn winked back
at her. “I’ll have a Scotch on the rocks.”
Carrie
giggled, tossing her shoulder length auburn curls to one side. She left with glazed and wandering eyes that appeared hypnotized by his gaze.
Ascher knew that
Quinn had flashed their server a subliminal. Though his full-blooded brothers possessed the power to imbed subliminal messages into human’s brains, their power did not extend to immortals. He, however, could send subliminals to both immortals and mortals, while also having the ability to read their minds. Channeling afforded him no solitude. He’d learned something over the years about this ability—quiet was a luxury most possessed, but few appreciated. “You’re such a show off!”
“No
, I’m not.” Quinn paused. “Well, maybe just a little. You know I’ve always had a thing for Carrie. She’s going back to college next week. Maybe I’ll get a piece as a parting gift.” Quinn smirked at his brother's disgusted stare. “A new girl is starting tonight.”
“Great
,” Ascher groaned. “I’m sure she’ll be
my
responsibility to train.” They always were. He sat stoic while observing, utterly unimpressed by what he saw. Volunteers were a food source meant for nourishment and were by no means exquisite objects of sexual temptation. Having sex with one was like screwing your food, a repulsive act he wouldn’t do.
The buzzing in his phone raise
d the hairs on his arm.
Ursula
. She called at least five times a day, leaving messages for him to return. Their sealing was supposed to be his destiny, but he equated it to an
unimaginable hell
.
The rest of eternity was too long to spend with such a royal pain in the ass. Each time they had sex he remained emotionally detached
, leaving the encounters with a frustrated emptiness. He yearned for a companion, his eternal love, an unconditional commitment—things he knew
she
could never give him. Physical love was easy, as any fool could make the parts match up.
The mechanics of the female body were never a mystery to him. He sexed her while
mentally reciting poetry or revisiting his favorite novels, courtesy of his photographic memory. His goal was always to avoid intimacy—eye contact and kissing. The unpleasant chill of her skin coupled with her need to cuddle afterwards, made him physically ill.
The experience was
unbearable, and the few times he’d reached a climax it was a physiological function more than an indication of pleasure. Her orgasm was always a welcomed occurrence, not because he sought to please her, mostly because it marked the end of the encounter. Afterwards, he immediately showered to rid his body of her scent and warm himself.
Quinn cleared his throat.
“Dude, you're spacin’ again.”
Ascher’s
gaze drifted towards the bar. A jolt of adrenaline shocked him, as his focused attention met with a pair of dark mesmerizing eyes. “Who is
she
?”
“The new girl
...she’s hot, right? Her name is Shawnette McCutchin. I heard she prefers Shauna.”
As
cher stilled, as the planets of his solar system realigned, moved and adjusted to make room for her to exist in it.
She dripped sex as a honeycomb oozed its sweet nectar. A smooth butterscotch-mixed-with-a-splash-of-cream complexion was the foundation for astonishing features—dark, boundless eyes that pierced right into him
and a pair of deep dimples set inside her cheeks. She possessed a smile that could light up a black hole. Dark wavy hair flowed down to the small of her back like a raven river, as she moved with an ethereal grace.
Gabe strolled over to their table, his face aligh
t with happiness. “Good evening, brothers.”
Ascher narrowed his eyes.
“You’re cheerful tonight.”
“And you’re cranky,
” Gabe replied, motioning the new girl over. “Carrie’s working a half shift. Would you do me a huge favor and show Shauna the ropes for a couple of hours?”
Ascher
looked up, gave her a quick smirk then pierced her with an unmoving stare. “Sure, no problem.”
Sh
e offered him a friendly hand. “I’m Shauna. It’s very nice to meet you.”
“Ascher
.” Her touch drove a surge of fire into him, the burning waves coursing his nerves then pooling in his pounding heart. The pulse throbbed in his head, leaving him off balance and spell bound by a dark gaze he couldn’t shake.
* * * *
Shauna snatched her hand away, her heart hammering, and his staring did nothing to calm the nerves. She curled her fingers into a fist to trap the perspiration dotting her palms. Breaking their physical connection didn’t help shake his stare. Those eyes pierced into her. Why was he staring at her that way, and why couldn't she look away? A weird fluttering traveled to her stomach, sending a nervous ripple to her pounding heart that caused a new pattern of uneven palpitations.
His eyes finally wavered, releasing her from their hypnotic glare.
“Shall we?” he offered coolly.
Somewhat
reluctant, she followed him. What was his problem? He obviously cared nothing about his bottom line. Otherwise, he'd be more enthusiastic about showing her the ropes. With his acidic attitude, he must have few friends.
What a jerk!
Sh
auna sat on the bar stool pretending to pay attention, but she wasn’t interested in an orientation of what she already knew. This was a virtual snooze fest, and her mind drifted off. This man was unbelievably gorgeous with no stubble or facial hair attesting to his age. His strangely pubescent face was pallid, baby smooth and flawless. Most guys took to growing goatees and pencil-thin moustaches to assert their manhood.
He
, evidently, wasn’t a follower.
He kept his back to her while he explained the set up. After giving her the specifics, he turned, giving her another glassy stare with those probing eyes.
Jet-black hair hung playfully along his forehead, accenting thick lashes and the strangest colored blue eyes. He was an unearthly type of attractive. Deep warmth radiated from the azure pools, contradicting the coldness exuding from his expression. His tall, lean physique stood muscular and strong. Black jeans and a black and gray striped polo shirt completed his look and enhanced that creamy complexion.
Her heart
gave a hard thump.
He’d
be so handsome, if he weren’t such a jerk.