Prologue
Sariah
Five years ago
“Sariah! Let’s go!” Mom shouted to me from the stairs for the third time. Ugh, she always yelled at me to hurry up, but I couldn’t help that I was paranoid of forgetting something. Going through the list in my head again, I checked off my gear. Skates, check. Leggings, check. Skate guards, check. Leotard, check. Muscle cream, check. Extra scrunchies, check. I could never have too many of those since I was forever throwing my hair up. Long hair problems. Satisfied everything was there, I grabbed my bag and rushed down the stairs.
“I’m ready, Mom,” I grumbled back as I made my way into the kitchen. It was our last practice before the competition tomorrow. My partner and I were expected to place first, from there it was to the Nationals and then, hopefully, the Olympic Team. Giddy excitement bubbled up in me every time I thought of Henry nowadays. While our skating future was exciting, it wasn’t what had me eager to see him today. My cheeks started to redden with a blush as I recalled the kiss we had shared the other night. Unfortunately, we didn’t get to talk about it, as Finley had come into the room right after.
I loved my best friend, but at that moment, I had wanted to punch Fin. She had the worst timing, but I also hadn’t told her about my first kiss yet. Mostly because it was with her brother, and I was nervous about having that conversation with Fin. Growing up as neighbors, we had all been the three amigos since we could walk. Now, I was worried about what this new shift in our dynamic would bring. Henry and I had been…
Abruptly, my thoughts stopped when I looked up from my phone and noticed that my parents weren’t in the kitchen like normal. I gleaned all around me and saw my father’s sandy head peeking over the back of the couch. That’s odd, this time of morning he was usually on his second cup of coffee while he read the paper at the breakfast bar. Noticing my mother’s thick chestnut waves next to him, I turned in the direction of the living room. Something was going on and I was determined to figure it out.
Walking into the living room, I realized my father’s typical jovial attitude was missing and replaced with a look of fear that appeared abnormal on his handsome face. Scott Brennon was in his mid-forties and considered attractive by my peers, which by the way, gross. Except now, his usually clean-cut look seemed rumpled, but if that wasn’t enough cause for concern alone, my mother’s appearance stopped me dead in my tracks. Kyla Brennon, barely forty, was a refined beauty with her exotic features that I coveted, but on the couch sat someone I barely recognized.
Her frame was taught with tension, worry lines furrowed her brow, and her usual cheerful eyes reflected a purely haunted look. Both of their postures contradicted the natural tall frames they possessed as they both sat hunched over and tense on the couch. My father’s arm wrapped around my mother’s waist while she shredded a Kleenex in her lap. They avoided eye contact as I took in the scene before me. What was going on? I thought we had to leave? That’s when I noticed a strange man was also sitting in our living room. My brow wrinkled in confusion.
“What’s going on? Aren’t we going to be late for practice? Henry and I need to work on the timing of that last sequence,” I said, looking back and forth at my parents. No response. “Mom? Dad? Who is this? Why won’t you answer me?” My voice trembled as I asked them. I started to get a pit in the bottom of my stomach. This man had a weird feeling about him, and I didn’t like how my parents responded to his presence.
Since my parents weren’t answering me, I turned to the strange man instead. He was tall with a medium build that was noticeable even with him being seated, as his head peered over the top of the chair. He had salt and pepper hair that slicked back sharply accentuating his sharp features. This man’s eyes held a sense of darkness that spoke volumes to what he was capable of inflicting. His lips were curved up in a weird smile as if he were getting off on my uncomfortableness. Wearing a suit, which I could imagine was expensive based on the fit, and the gleaming shoes he was sporting, he gave a picture of refined danger. Finley was obsessed with fashion and would often go on long tirades about different brands and why they were superior to others. I tuned her out most of the time, but years of her saying things had apparently seeped in by osmosis.
Keeping my focus on his shoes, I wondered, how does he keep them so shiny? A throat clearing brought me out of my stare-off with those ridiculously polished shoes. Not wanting to let my guard down, I pulled out my ‘snarky teenager’ as my Mom referred to it.
“Yes?” I huffed in a bored tone, combined with my death stare. Silence met my question. “Who are You, and what the Fuck are you doing in my house?” I blurted out. My mom gasped at my use of the cuss word but still said nothing. My heart started to race at that because she hated when I cussed, correcting me by saying, “that was not very becoming of a lady,” like we lived in the era of Pride and Prejudice or something.
My legs were threatening to give out now, so I leisurely walked to the couch to take a seat. All the while trying to mask my fear with my phone clutched in my hand. I opened a text to Finley and typed a ‘911 message’. Quickly hitting send, I pocketed my phone. Fin and I had jokingly created our own code words if we were kidnapped to convey to one another if we were in trouble. Mine was “JB girl.” It was something I would never say since I thought Justin Bieber was awful.
Sitting down next to my dad, he kept his head trained on the coffee table as if it had the meaning of life on it. He tensed when I sat down against him, at least conveying to me that he noticed my presence. The mysterious man decided to talk once I was seated.
“Sariah, I’ve wanted to meet you for a while, or I should say, see you again. You see, my dear, I was present at your birth.” Way to drop that creepy bomb, weirdo. He continued despite my internal conversation with him. “But your parents,” he sneered, “have been troublesome to locate and refused my requests to meet with you.” I raised my eyebrow; what the hell was he talking about now? This guy was bizarre, and quite frankly, terrifying. I didn’t have a good feeling about any of this.
“Welllllllllll,” I drew out, like any self-respectful teenager. “Kudos, it seems you have managed to find me. Unfortunately, as you can see, I have somewhere to be, and I’m already late,” I pouted, acting as if I was sad. Pretending to stand in an attempt to get him to leave, I wondered why my parents were behaving so oddly in his presence. Whatever the reason, I didn’t like it. Was he a vampire and using compulsion on them? My imagination began to run away with this theory. Hence, my confusion when a big oaf of a man came up from behind me and forcibly shoved me back down, effectively snapping me out of my strange thoughts. “What…?” I started to ask the Psycho Vamp in front of me as he disregarded me.
“There will be no leaving, Sariah, until I say you can leave. Now please, have a seat. I don’t want to have to get aggressive,” he gritted out while wearing a creepy-ass smile. Yep, definitely a vampire. I wrenched my arm away from the oaf in protest.
“So, talk then, Mr.…?” I trailed off, deliberately acting not interested. His smile widened at this, making me shudder internally. Gross.