Chapter 4
James' POV
Where is she, I thought frantically, weaving through the hover-cars. What had she meant when she said she was getting 'this' to where it belongs? What was in her bag in the first place!? I felt lost and desolate, she hadn't even told me where she was going when she left last week.
I hadn't asked her either, I thought with a snort, shaking my head, and now she's gone, AGAIN!
Zaria just made my mind...abnormal. Usually I'm organised, level-headed, and always planning for the future. But whenever that woman's around I'm like a love struck teenager!
My mother had died during my birth, and my abusive father was killed in the Dunike War, when I was 11. I take a drink on the date every year to celebrate the death of that bastard. One of the many things Zaria had in common, we were orphans. The only thing I had ever loved before Zaria, is combat.
Just the rush of it, the adrenaline pumping through your veins. You can feel your pulse just pushing and pushing you to do incredible things. It creates a power, a power you can pack into a punch or kick. Sweeping your opponent with it. A lot of people are almost blinded by the adrenaline and can't think clearly; I'm not one of those people. Each strike is made with intention; the intention to defeat and conquer.
Guns, although pre-historic (because the previous, and greatest Potentate ,Tionem, banned the development of weaponry, when he first began to rule, two hundred and sixty years ago) got you an easy kill, but ruined the excitement of the act and made men who could have been great opponents, weak. The only person that I'm sure would beat me in fight, albeit not by much, is Zaria's Uncle, Dhon.
I slapped my forehead and finally thought of it; Dhon would know exactly she is!!
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My pulse sped beneath my skin when I saw her slouched on the ground across from Dhon, his eyes were blood shot and hand wrapped in a towel.
I quickly walked across the room and held Zaria's beautiful oval face in my hands. I looked over her body and discovered her T-shirt and jeans didn't have any blood on them, but her small wrists looked abraded.
"What happened?" I asked looking into her green eyes that were filled with red and blue swirls and surrounded by red where there should have been white."I told you to be careful..."
She shook her head whispering in between sniffles," It can't be ...I can't do it..", over and over again.
I had never seen her so vulnerable, looking so broken and weak.Even though she looked young, she was already 158 years old, just aging incredibly slowly because of the Contamination. I gathered her into my arms and a box fell out of her small unadorned hand, the Behest, and it was open. I immediately understood what had happened, maybe she didn't think she was capable of it, but I knew she was. She was born for it.
"It's okay, God meant it for you, and you have us at your back. We'll do it together, like we always have." I whispered intertwining our hands, mirroring our hearts.
YOU ARE READING
The Contamination
ParanormalIn the year 2212 the Country Zayan is oppressed by it's new Potentate, a cruel dictator named Cicado, he is unyielding and views all vampires as contaminated. He will do everything in his power to kill each and every one, especially one who poses a...