Dead Awakening Read online

  An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

  www.ellorascave.com

  Dead Awakening

  ISBN 9781419913983

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  Dead Awakening Copyright © 2007 Mackenzie McKade

  Edited by Sue-Ellen Gower.

  Cover art by Syneca.

  Electronic book Publication December 2007

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/)

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Dead Awakening

  Mackenzie McKade

  Dedication

  My sincerest gratitude goes to Diane V., without whose support and knowledge of the Tarot cards I would never have been able to create Annie and Etienne’s story. Thank you for guidance and friendship. Special thanks to my wonderful critique buddies. Patti Duplantis, Julie Cummings, Claudia McRay and Holly Paxon—thank you for being there when I needed you.

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Cadillac: General Motors Corporation

  Coke: The Coca-Cola Company

  Honda Civic: Honda Motor Co.

  Mack: Mack Trucks, Inc.

  Pizza Hut: Pizza Hut, Inc.

  Volkswagon: Volkswagen Aktiengesellschaft

  The World

  The World card is indicative of a complete circle; it is the sum of all things. Its presence in a Tarot reading represents birth, and rebirth, new beginnings and opportunities. The Fool who is symbolic in the card travels to his bemusement ending up where he had begun. Yet he sees his position very differently. Much insight and wisdom has been obtained. He has come full cycle discovering about self, mind and body, past and future. The world turns, and the Fool’s journey is complete.

  Our hero must let go of the past so that a new day can emerge. He must step off the cliff of uncertainty to join the universe and grab on to the golden ring of opportunity. New found freedom and a new life await him, if he will only take the chance to see what lies before him.

  Chapter One

  God, it was hot. Perspiration beaded on Annie Wycliffe’s forehead as she tried to smile reassuringly at the man across the table from her. He returned the gesture warily, an expression of hope awakening on his middle-aged face.

  Everyone was looking for love. Chuck Gibson was no different.

  Yet it was hard to concentrate on the cards when her body was burning up beneath the multiple layers of her gypsy costume. The colorful scarves at her waist felt more like wool than light airy fabric. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, only the blazing sun that was finally losing its strength. She prayed for a breeze and Mother Earth greeted her with a small gust that whipped through the porch where they sat while she read his Tarot cards.

  Who knew mid-March in the deserts of Arizona would reach the low nineties? Thankfully, Chuck was her last customer. The day was coming to an end. The Renaissance fair was winding down.

  “The tenth card is the synthesis card. It brings everything together,” Annie explained as she laid down the Queen of Cups. A calmness she hadn’t felt all day settled over her. This man would find his love.

  She tapped the card with her index finger. “An honest, devoted woman will enter your life and spark your interest.” Chuck’s eyes twinkled with excitement. These were the words he came to hear. A vision of a short redheaded woman standing before Chuck came to mind. “You will meet her near your home or outside your front door.” The gleam of happiness on his face washed away the trepidation that had haunted Annie for several days. She allowed Chuck’s joy to fill her.

  Annie loved helping people, but hated the part of delivering bad news. Yet it was what she did. Reading Tarot cards was only one gift she possessed and it was the one that had gotten her this job.

  As Chuck stood, he grasped her hands with his calloused ones and shook greedily. “Thank you.” At his touch, pictures of his earlier life flickered like snapshots behind her eyes. Abandoned on the doorstep of a shelter as a youth, passed up by one adoptive family after another, teased on the schoolyard for being small and frail, and one failed relationship after another were scenes that made up his lonely existence.

  She nodded politely and rose. “You’re welcome.”

  There was someone for everyone. Annie grasped onto that thread of hope. Her life had been no picnic. Still, she was thrilled that Chuck would finally find his soul mate. Instinctively, she knew he would be all right, and the knowledge warmed her heart.

  In his excitement as he turned to leave, his step faltered, his tennis shoes squeaking across the wooden stairs, and he began to fall. Releasing an uneasy chuckle, he grasped the porch railing and righted himself. A sheepish grin touched his lips.

  Annie’s heart skipped a beat. “Careful.” She followed him off the porch hoping to catch more of the breeze that made the crystal wind chimes on the porch begin to tinkle. Chuck waved goodbye and walked away, a new bounce in his stride. With a tug, she pulled her ankle-length skirt away from her heated skin and felt a draft of air sweep up her legs as she gazed at the departing crowd.

  She glanced at the sign that invited seekers to Madame Andrea’s place of business. It was an optical illusion. The hollow framework took on the image of a small white cottage with yellow trim, artificial flowers aligned the porch, and a wrought iron pentagram donned the wall. This hovel and the small trailer she’d been assigned had been her home for the last six months. Whoever held this position last departed in such a hurry she’d left behind her travel trailer, as well as all her costumes. It was the way of many carnies. They were drifters at heart or running from something—like Annie.

  The remainder of the fair’s attendees shuffled toward the exit. Their chatter had died substantially, their pace turned slow and lethargic. A baby cried in the distance. A toddler near the age of two pulled on his father’s pant leg, whimpering until the man picked him up. Heat and exhaustion had taken its toll on everyone, including her. But her day wasn’t over, not if her intuitions were right.

  As if to remind her of her plight, a narrow column of air rose from out of nowhere, tearing down the middle of the pathway. With a gust of fury, the dusty swirl swiped wrappers and empty cups off several picnic tables, lifting the debris and tossing it about. The soft whistling of the narrow funnel cloud foretold of danger.

  Where the premonition came from Annie didn’t know. The faceless man who taunted her dreams each night she hadn’t yet recognized. She had always been sensitive to forces beyond the physical world. Yet, her spirit guide had been vague at best. The female entity was fickle, never showing up when Annie felt she needed guidance.

  The medium’s presence had appeared when Annie was ten. Annie’s mother, Laurie, had nicknamed the medium Velia from the Italian name meaning concealed. It was a disturbing time in Annie’s life, until Laurie revealed a long list of women with exceptional gifts in their family. Laurie wasn’t one of them, though at times she swore she felt some stirring deep inside her. So if this was normal, then why had Annie felt so lonely and isolated from those around her? r />
  The whirlwind died almost as quickly as it had began, the last of its turbulence brushed against her skirt and teased the fallen tendrils torn away from her long russet hair, curled and pinned upon her head. She gripped her shawl tighter around her shoulders and looked toward the ribbons of orange and gold in the western sky announcing the setting sun. Anxiety skittered up her backbone.

  His presence was stronger, closer than it had been the night before. How soon would he find her?

  Maybe it was time to hit the road before whoever beckoned her succeeded in finding her. She released a heavy sigh and turned back to her little cottage.

  Damn, she was tired of running.

  Annie tipped her chin up and inhaled. The scent of mesquite and scrub brush was overwhelmed by the lingering smells of roasted turkey legs, corn, pizza and a conglomeration of other foods. Her stomach released a deep growl, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since that morning.

  A mixture of fear and dread raced through her veins, making the hair on her arms rise. The energy force that taunted her was stronger this time, more personal, which couldn’t bode well for her.

  Had her stepfather finally found her?

  She shivered at the thought. A mean sonofabitch, he wanted to use her gifts for his own benefit, as well as her body. A self-proclaimed minister, Clyde Drexel had gone from praying for her wicked soul to groping since her mother’s death. After his last attempt to molest Annie, she had locked herself in the bathroom until he had passed out from too much alcohol. Then she packed what little she owned, cleaned out his wallet and escaped through a window. That was two years ago.

  But that hadn’t stopped the bastard. He had been relentless in following her from city to city. The last time she had seen him was in Tennessee. It had been a nasty scene. She threatened him with the police. He had threatened her with jail. Her mother’s jewelry was missing and there was the money she had taken from him. Add to that the bump she gave him on the head to make her second escape and she knew there was nothing else she could do but run.

  Annie had made it clear to Arizona with no sight of him. Maybe he had given up.

  Strangely there was something about the indescribable energy that made her feel like it wasn’t Clyde who sought her. The individual who haunted her dreams was powerful—one who would make her transcend her beliefs and walk blindly into the unknown.

  Oh goody. That’s all she needed. The unknown wasn’t something she relished.

  “Good evening, Madame Andrea.” A timid man of five-five dressed in green leotards and a skintight shirt with leaves and vinery attached approached. His skin was painted green to match his clothing. Compassionate blue eyes stared from behind a tan domino made of thin slivers of bark, the half-mask giving him an air of mystery. His character was a tree fairy and Annie had never seen anyone so talented. He charmed both children and adults alike.

  “Evening, Gil. Anything exciting happen today?”

  Gil was animated as he frowned. “A little bugger punched me in the groin.” The man’s high-pitched voice grew even higher and scratchy. He had yet to shed his fey character, choosing to entertain her. “Instead of hugging the tree, I nearly climbed halfway up it.” He pretended to scramble up an invisible tree.

  Annie chuckled. “Ouch. I’m so sorry.”

  “Children get more aggressive each year,” Gil complained, his tone lowering to reveal his real voice, which was tranquil and soothing. “Guess I’ll have to use the trees as a shield from now on.”

  “Sounds like a good idea,” she agreed.

  “Can I walk you to your trailer, Annie?” Gil moved closer, a glimmer of hope glistened in his eyes.

  Not again.

  Gil had asked her out on several occasions. She knew better than to get involved with anyone. The less people knew about her the better.

  “Thank you, but I need to gather my things.”

  He stepped even closer. “I’ll wait.”

  “You’re so sweet, but it isn’t necessary.” She took the stairs leading up the porch. “I need a little time alone to wind down. The walk will do me good.”

  Disappointment shone on his face. “Okay. Are you going into town tonight? A bunch of us are meeting at Pizza Hut. Wings and beer.”

  “No. Not tonight.” She busied herself in gathering the cards off the table.

  “Don’t be too long. It gets dark out here and the sun has set. Guess I’ll see you around tomorrow.” She felt his gaze study her before he turned to leave.

  “Yeah. Tomorrow.” But by tomorrow morning she might very well be gone.

  * * * * *

  Etienne Deveraux couldn’t breathe—didn’t try, not until he burst from the earth in an explosion of dirt, sand and rocks flying in all directions. The rubble made soft thuds as it fell to the ground. A gasp of thick, sultry air filled his lungs, reminding him how hot the desert could be, even though fluctuations in temperature didn’t bother him. This wasn’t his first visit to Arizona, but it would be his last. The steady beat of his heart followed and then skipped a beat.

  Like always—he was alone.

  Man was not meant to live alone.

  But, of course, he wasn’t exactly human. He hadn’t been for five centuries, not since that night. Mentally, he brushed away the thought. Anger and guilt had been his to live with and bear for too long.

  Tonight it would end. Tomorrow he would see the sun for the first time in centuries and the last time in his life.

  Etienne scoured the horizon—an amber glow was all that was left of the day. An almost transparent moon graced the cloudless sky. Stars had yet to dot the heavens.

  The boisterous sounds of the Renaissance Fair just east of the city limits of Apache Junction that had awakened him were dying. He could hear people shuffling about as they prepared for the night. A multitude of scents bombarded him from juicy drippings of meat barbequing to something sweet—chocolate.

  And blood.

  His stomach rumbled. The need to feed gnawed relentlessly, but he ignored it.

  It was Sunday. If the poster he read about the fair was correct, the desert would remain quiet until Friday, then a host of people would converge upon this site once again to relive the time period that he had been born in.

  Why would they do such a thing when the comforts of life surrounded them?

  Etienne shook his head. So many of the people he had met throughout the years were infatuated with the past. He only wished to forget it.

  The ache deep in his chest was like a boil festering. He closed his eyes, pushing past the thoughts of Meryell and how he had been unable to protect her. Instead, he called upon the winds to cleanse his naked body and comb his shoulder-length dark hair, before caressing the elements with his mind to conjure a pair of black boots, jeans and T-shirt to cover him.

  Dressed and with no particular destination in mind, he began to walk toward the Superstition Mountains. Like most cities, this place had to have a legend and what better than a Lost Dutchman and a gold mine. Of course, none of the stories had ever been substantiated. Etienne wondered what the human race would think when they finally discovered the truth of vampires?

  Rocks and sand made no noise beneath his boots. From the corner of his eye he saw a lizard dart from beneath a sage bush and skitter up the base of a saguaro cactus to disappear in one of the holes created by another inhabitant of this dry land.

  For such a barren place it was alive with activity. A coyote howled and an owl flying overhead screeched. He could hear the frantic beat of a jackrabbit’s pulse as it cautiously watched the bird. The hare’s long ears twitched and then went deathly still. But it was the sound of tinkling laughter that caught Etienne’s attention and jerked him around toward the Renaissance Fair. Something about the feminine sound made his heart begin to race.

  “Meryell,” he whispered. Without hesitation, he lunged into the sky, dissolving into a fine mist. As he soared through the atmosphere, he knew he was being irrational. Meryell was dead and so were his thoughts
of reincarnation and that someday he would find her again. Yet his longing made him want to find the woman who laughed, who made his heart stir and his body harden with desire.

  When Etienne materialized back into human form, he stood before a replica of a Viking longship anchored about three feet above the ground. Long ropes dangled from each side, swaying gently in the breeze. A children’s ride, he concluded as he began to walk toward the voice that entranced him.

  A man was fastening a gate to the front entrance of a white castlelike structure. Blue lettering above him announced the Dragon’s Loire, fossils, crystals and gemstones. The strong woody scent of incense came from the Dragons and Wizards shop next door that hawked incense burners and oil lamps.

  But Etienne’s attention was riveted on the center throughway and the little cottage-like house. Upon the porch stood a woman with long, chestnut hair that brushed her waist. Her brows were pulled into a scowl, as she folded a scarf around a deck of Tarot cards.

  As if she sensed him, she raised her head and their gazes locked. The cards slipped from her hands, spreading across the table, one card falling to lie face up. It was the image of a hermaphrodite dancing above the Earth, surrounded by a green wreath and being watched by the faces of a human, a lion, an ox and an eagle. At the bottom were the words “The World”.

  A moment of fear flickered and then vanished from her face. Riveting blue-green eyes drew him closer. Meryell’s eyes had been almost copper, her hair shiny black like his.

  Etienne couldn’t breathe. The woman before him wasn’t Meryell, still he couldn’t explain how his body reacted to her. He had the unnerving need to pull her into his arms, press his mouth to hers and make mad passionate love. Desire stirred behind the zipper of his jeans. His cock hardened, making each step a little more difficult. Slowly he climbed the stairs and gazed down upon her.