Chapter 2 Is Available Free On Ream
The Amaranthine Book II
Arden held onto the two seats in front of her as Ren drove the jeep into the darkness. It felt like the boy was trying to hit every pothole, dip, rut, and mud puddle along the road.
Looking at him — she was surprised and suspicious of him — because without any prompting from her or Jason, he seemed to know where to go. He knew what secondary road on her property he needed to be on.
In the dark.
He knew his way around Gypsy Gardens grounds, just like…
Just like Ivan had.
The little purple dragon he called Nari—what Arden believed was Ren’s own version of an Elemental—hovered in front of the jeep, lighting the way, casting the dark forest and swamp in an eerie amethyst glow.
What Arden didn’t want to acknowledge was the warm, yellow light moving up through the tree tops ahead, illuminating the sky in front of them.
“It’s…there,” Jason said in a tight voice.
Arden had noticed his white-knuckled grip on the dashboard in front of him. She didn't think it was because of Ren’s driving.
Living within a Pack Link for five years had enhanced her sensitivity to types of empathy, telepathy…and though she did not share much with Jason’s demon, she believed she felt Mephistopheles’ anxiety. It was there, surrounding Jason, suffocating him. He was a prisoner of the demon that possessed him.
Arden knew about Morgan, the delightful Revenant. She had met Morgan’s present host, Manuel, who had visited on several occasions. He had spoke in the same excited cadence Arden believed Elizabeth had most likely spoken when she was Morgan’s host. During their days of love and strife during World War II. Nick had been less forthcoming with his memories of Morgan / Elizabeth. She believed it was because the Ghoul respected Mephistopheles’ feelings about Morgan…his one true love.
The stories always confused her—not really understanding demon, or symbiont, birth within the Abysmal Plane. It was Nick in his soft voice, his Australian accent still present but muted enough to simply make her want to pay attention to him when he spoke. Where Jason was blustering youth, still so very young to an immortal life, Nick was much, much older. Exactly how old, neither he or Mephistopheles would say. All she knew was that Nick Shayzon was the oldest, living Ghoul in the world.
One of ten Ghouls in existence.
And those nine were as protected as Nick.
Continued on Ream
