Bloodlines

Chapter One

:I:

Red Everly sighed to herself. Her hair, a curly golden brown, was pulled up in a somewhat messy ponytail. Her eyes, an eerie blue that almost seemed to glow in the right light, stared down at the box of jewelry. Her great grandmother had passed away the week before to no one's surprise. She was over a hundred years old and barely clinging to life. What had been a surprise was that in her will, Mirabelle Everly had left all of jewelry and letters to her great-granddaughter. And so, Red had found herself sitting in a dead woman's bedroom, looking at the many, many pieces of jewelry decorating her vanity.

Mirabelle had lived alone ever since her husband, Ray Everly, had passed away a decade before. She had loved her jewelry, most of which had been in her family for years and years. Framed photos filled her room, glass bottles of perfume sat on her vanity, and a leather-bound chest filled with letters written in careful cursive acted as a night table.

Red thought she was going to cry. She had been close to her Grandma Mirabelle, spending every Saturday at the woman's small house, listening to her stories. The smell of the English Rose perfume Mirabelle always wore filled the room, a painful reminder. Red couldn't help herself, she started to cry. At eighteen years old she could drive and had opted to go to Mirabelle's house alone. That had been a mistake. There was no one to comfort her in her grief.

Red took a deep breath and collected herself. She reached down and touched a pearl necklace her grandma have loved to wear. Every piece of jewelry on that table reminded Red of the time she spent with Mirabelle. Slowly, she examined each piece, remembering the stories behind each one. The old diamond engagement ring she always wore on a gold chain, the ruby bracelet she wore every day in February, the onyx pendant she only wore on her husband's date of death. It was strange to think each of those pieces and more belonged to her now, Red reflected.

Several hours, she had finished sorting through all the jewelry and carefully placed it back in the carved, wooden jewelry box. The box of letters would be dealt with when she was home and not alone. She didn't think she could handle that sort of pain alone. She locked the jewelry box and slipped the key onto a chain that she put around her neck. Brushing away the stray tear that slipped down her face, Red carried the chest and the jewelry box out to her car and loaded them carefully in the trunk. She drove home with thoughts of her grandmother on her mind.

Mirabelle had been the one who gave her a box and told her to save the letters people gave her so she could look back on them when she was older. It was Mirabelle who taught her to write in flowing cursive. It was Mirabelle who read to her from old books of fairytales, Mirabelle who comforted her when kids at school were mean. It was Mirabelle who had always been there for Red, for eighteen years. It was Mirabelle who taught her to cook, to sew, to take care of herself. And it was Mirabelle who had always seemed so immortal.

Ten minutes later, Red was home, eyes bloodshot from crying, mascara streaked. She hoped her neighbor, Callum Wright or just Cal, wasn't home. The two had been good friends since Cal moved there when she was ten and he was twelve. Cal's older sister had always thought they'd grow up and fall in love but there was the small problem that Cal preferred guys to girls and, well, they were best friends.

“Red! Hey, you okay? Your mom said you were at your great-grandma's.” Cal hopped over the fence easily. He was a few inches taller than red, his red hair always slightly messy. Red sighed to herself, of course he would be home. Despite being twenty years old, he still lived with his parents, mostly because his college was half an hour away and he really couldn't afford a dorm room.

“I'm fine, Cal. Can you give me a hand with this stuff?” Cal nodded, easily lifting the trunk of letters.

“So what is this stuff anyways?” He asked as they walked inside Red's house.

“My grandma's. She left her jewelry and letters to me. I looked through the jewelry but not the letters. I kinda don't think I'm ready for that and I don't think I could be alone when I read them.”

Cal nodded, letting Red walk up the stairs first. He followed behind, setting the trunk down in her room before replying. “Hey, well, I'm here if you need me and Shelly's gonna be home next weekend I think.”

Richelle, or Shelly, was Cal's older sister. She was nothing like her brother with her dark hair and moody disposition. Still, she was fiercely protective of her brother and treated Red like a little sister. Sure, she was a bit intimidating with her snakebite lip piercings, tattoos and overall dark appearance but that didn't stop her from being a decent, if somewhat violent and morbid, older sister.

“Thanks, Cal. Maybe you guys could come over and read them with me?” Cal nodded in agreement and Red smiled slightly.

“Well, I gotta bounce. See ya later bestie!” Cal gave her a tight hug before leaving. He closed the door behind him, leaving Red alone for which she was grateful.

After a few minutes of just staring at the two boxes on her floor, Red stood up and walked over the the jewelry box. Carefully she moved the box onto her armoire. Pausing for a moment, she unlocked the box and reached inside, trying to find the diamond ring. Her fingers caught on something and, surprised, she brought it back down.

Sitting on the floor, Red carefully removed the jewelry and inspected the box. There was something, a tiny catch, on the bottom. Slowly, carefully, she pulled up on it and gasped when the bottom lifted up to reveal a hidden compartment. Inside there was a necklace, one Red had never seen before. The chain was slightly tarnished silver but the pendant... The pendant was beautiful. Surrounded by twisting vines with silver leaves was a brilliant fire opal. It was gorgeous, swirling dark red with patches of glowing, vibrant blue.

Gasping to herself, Red reached in and pulled it out, stroking the chain silently. She wondered why she had never seen it before. With shaking hands she undid the clasp and held the necklace up, watching the opal catch the light. She slipped it around her neck, redid the clasp, and pulled her hair out of the way, admiring the way the necklace looked.

Red smiled at her reflection. She had seen pictures of Mirabelle from when she was younger but Red had never thought she resembled her great-grandmother. Looking at herself while wearing Mirabelle's necklace, Red thought she could see it in the shape of her eyes and the curl in her hair. She reached up and ran a finger over the smooth stone.

Moments later Red felt sick, as if all the blood had left her head. She swayed back and forth before tripping over her own feet and hitting the ground with a dull thud. Overhead, the ceiling spun and blurred, turning blue. She was vaguely aware of loud shouts and the feeling of sunlight hitting her body.

And then everything when dark.

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