Glamour [Book 1] (Completed)

Chapter 15 | Fire Bound

Chapter 15

It was then that I heard the snapping of the waves against a thousand individual rocks. Voices slashed the air, and consumed the peaceful evening with distant tranquility. My mother had dragged me along the sandy slope where former footfalls had already crossed the path before, but not in large mounds of countless dips. A set of at least ten individual dotted foot lines curled downward to the sea shore. In the distance there was a looming orange globe glowing dimmer and dimmer in the distance. I watch the sun as it fell between each crashing wave in the distance.

"There they are!" Someone shouted from the group of, as I had previously guessed, ten people whom surrounded a large fire.

Pushing out of the small crowd Noni came floundering through, and greeted us (or maybe just me). "Happy birthday my dear, I'm sorry I was not home this morning to celebrate: I had business elsewhere."

"I know, Noni, don't worry about it I understand that you had to prepare for my Matching."

Noni smiles brightly at me, even though I feel more disgusted with myself and my family than I ever have before. I don't know why I was so displeased with all of them, the entire Sangre Coven was trying to put me in a wealthier-
more confined- place. They wanted me to be a great leader and proposed me power.

I already had power.

"Alright, let's get set before the sun has set and the moons glow reaches the shore- shall we?" Noni takes my mother's elbow and we follow them to the fire.

The fire was illuminated on wet sand: while its flames licked the salty air greedily. No coal or wood was needed to ignite the fire as a large white cross-crossed star sat beneath it.

My attention was pulled from the fire to the three figures across from it. Each of them stared intently into the flames or at me. I can't say I'm a bashful person, but I will say that I had a looming sense of awkwardness rise from my stomach and prove my cheeks pink.

"You have till 8:32" Noni pats my shoulder and whisks my mother away from me, the rest of the family (that came to my "party") followed suit. This meant I was left alone with my three suitors, and that I would have to choose one within the hour.

"Well then..." I turned to raise a glare at the three boys, "Nick, I'm going to wipe that grin off your face."

"Please do," he flashes his teeth and strides toward the fire, "maybe you can that with your lips."

"No," I tease, "I think I'll use the fingers my mama gave me."

"Or that too." His voice has lowered a couple octaves, making me realize I wasn't going to win a fight with a dirty-minded fool.

Ron, the adventurous one, snickers and manages a fistful of wet sand, "you son of a-!"

"Wait."

My amusement was squashed just as soon as Quietboy opened his mouth. Come to think of it...I never learned his name...does that rule him out of the match?

"Wait..." his voice seems to turn into a deep-throated yell-whisper and it frightens me to the core. His white hair stares to flicker like the fire, and her eyes roll back into his head. "He has come. I warned you about this, fate has not done you so kindly Eris Sangre Meyer."

"Who?" I screech, feeling as if the wind would pick up any moment now and a random flash-storm would surface throughout the deserted beach.

"El Rey Muerto."

Quietboy falls to his knees and his back arches paranormally. Both Nick and Ron leap ten long paces away from him and toward me. I barley caught the sound of Ron cursing under his breath.

"Who is El Rey Muerto?" I shout out toward Quietboy, and prepare to leap over the fire and strangle his till he speaks- but his body has practically folded in half as his arms lay out wide to the looming night.

"It's Spanish." Ron tells me as both boys come to my shoulders.

"Yeah? What did he say because I took French both Freshman and Sophomore year!"

Ron squeezes my shoulder, "El Rey Muerto translates to: The Dead King."

"What does he mean he warned me about this? How was I supposed to know some 'Dead King' would come for me?" Ron purses his lips apologetically, and shrugs.

He shrugged, in a time like this?!

"He is coming, he will be upon us soon." the voice of Quietboy was now no longer quiet, as if he was shrieking and flailing and trying to fight his own body to the death. Then, he stopped and lifted upright to face the whites of his eyes toward us. "He's here."