Chapter 3 Bad Blood...

Mother and daughter hug before they walk to the truck. Shamane help her mother, while looking directly at Steven. He seems nervous and on edge. He also seemed very uncomfortable underneath her gaze. Hastily, he climbed into the truck.

Shamane watch her mother drive away from the house where she spent many years of married life. Turning, she faces the house, still standing at the gate, somehow unwilling to return.

"What secrets are concealed in this place, I wondered?" she voiced her thoughts. "There is nothing special about the house. A basic structure, but now that mom's gone, I feel something almost sinister, watching me, waiting for me. Why," continued the one-sided conversation.

Her voice grows silent but her mind still played the whirlpool questioned games.

Her mind travels towards the twin garage that space always gives her the creeps. She never goes in there willingly. Most times, she simply parked her car beside the house.

Rubbing her neck, feeling odd, she circles the house.

Most of the garden is overgrown.Suddenly the hair in the back of her neck rose. Goose bumps crawl over her skin.

Turning her head slowly, her eyes look at the garage. She didn't notice she ended up there. She has a strong sense she lost time without realizing it. She is at the garage now looking at the house.

The silhouette of a man was leaning against the wall, watching her. His burning eyes on her skin filled her with revulsion and the instinct to run. She bolted fast.

Eric Hoffman enters the local bar. He is still annoyed with Joyce. She had no right to critic him. How dare she?

Apparently, she had forgotten their pact. He found his usual chair and sits down. He ordered a bottle of brandy.

"You look thunderous. What happened?"

Deon Raymond joined him at the table, slightly out of breath, praying no one had noticed his out of character behavior earlier. He just can't seem to stay away from her. He noticed the old woman getting into the truck. With her out of the way, maybe he would get easier excess.

He looks nervous, jittery, as he eyed the bottle of brandy. Lately, his luck has run out and being unemployed didn't helped either.

"Women are a waste of time," Eric snaps, uncorking the bottle.

"Not always. They do have their uses," Deon sniggers.

"Maybe you're right." Eric gulps down some brandy. "At least my old lady was good for breeding. I have two boys. Eugene is my pride and joy. The jury is still out on Edmund. He is too silent, watchful, for my liking, most of the time."

"I like the way that daughter of yours look." Deon has a dangerous look in his eyes. The older man didn't even notice.

"Would you mind if I visit her? I will bring along a fine bottle of brandy."

"You are no match for Shamane. That witch will scratch your eye out and leaves you bleeding," Eric said off-handily.

"I like a woman with fire. They play much better," Deon replied with lust in his voice. He is rubbing his groin underneath the table.

The bar grows quiet. The two men at the table noticed at last the big man stop beside their table.

"Eric Hoffman!"

"What do you want?" Eric looked and sounded sullen.

He looks up into the eyes. They are so black; it was a bit scary within its depths such coldness. The harshness of his face seemed cruel too.

"Move it!" Benjamin Heyman kicks the chair from beneath Deon. He scrambled onto his feet but retreat. He was not ready for a fight with the cold stranger.

"Why did you come?" Eric poured himself another glass of brandy.

"It's payday or have you forgotten." The younger man sat down. He put his hand over the glass

"I don't have the money." Eric glared at him.

"Don't play games with me, sir. You already gambled and lost. Pay-up or face the consequences."

The glass in his hand breaks. Not once did he look at the blood mingling with the brandy.

By all outside appearance, Benjamin Heyman is a cold and hard man. He never acknowledged the ability of kindness. The life he led never allows such human weakness.

"Sell your house. I don't care. I want my money." His voice is cold.

"I no longer own it. The house has become a rental."

Eric sits up straight when he looked probably at the younger man. The black eyes of earlier have grayness in its depths now. He feels his skin crawl. He couldn't look away. He doesn't like this man and his changeable eyes. It reminded him of someone else he didn't like much either. Something about the directness of the look made him remembered his plan.

"I have a counter offer."

"What?" Ben's eyes didn't waver.

"I have something of value I would like to trade for my debts."

"Spit it out."

Eric took a deep breath he realizes in his heart he is starting a fire that would consume him. He knew the consequences of a past he can't escape. Years ago, he was in a world he didn't understand. There he had learnt the value of a human life.

"Chestnut hair amber eyes height is tall in body but slender still a virgin and yours for the taking."

Eric speaks confidently. Now that he voices his plan, it made perfect sense to him.

"Excuse me!"

Benjamin grows so cold in his heart that such an extreme harshness settled on his face. The grayness fled from his eyes, leaving behind only darkness. He could not believe his ears.

"You heard me." Eric watch the granite face, still feeling confident.

Benjamin looks at the man who is the father of the young woman in question. Sometimes he drinks coffee at her place of business. She always appeared aloof and withdrawn but on the rare occasion when she smiles, heaven opened in his heart. He just keeps looking at the man, in his own mind's eye he could see himself killing this man and especially the man with the snake eyes.

"Let me get this straight. You are selling your daughter to me to settle your debt a transaction without her consent."

Benjamin sound so level and even toned that Eric didn't realize the danger just beneath the surface, kept in-checked with iron control.

"That is correct. Do we have a deal?"

Leaning closer to the older man, he speaks so softly but clearly, there is no way for any misunderstanding.

"You are a rotten piece of shit. First, chance I get, I will kill you, slowly. You will know precisely what is happening. I accept your deal. Knowing you, you would sell her to the first gutter slime that would make an offer. But out of curiosity, what right do you have doing this?"

"It's none of your business."

"You will regret this," Benjamin said.

It is hours later and still Eric drink to try to warm the chill inside him also to get rid of the fear in his mouth. He is frightened in more ways than he would like to admit.

He stumbled home. The street dimly lit. He is unaware of Deon following him. It is a difficult task reaching his house that night.

Shamane sees her father coming.

Moving quickly, she opened the gates, then sneaked behind some bushes. She is in no mood for him. The best thing tonight would be to avoid him at all costs.

Deon spotted her. Staying completely in the shadows, he watches her, remembering how she bolted earlier in the day. When he saw her reaction, he is now convinced she would make the perfect prey for him.

Eric stumbles into the yard, slowly going up the path towards the opened front door.

Keeping in the shadows, she patiently waits until he was inside. Moving swiftly again, she entered and shut the door behind her, also locking it securely.

"Joyce!" Eric bellowed. He is lying on the floor.

Staying in the passage until she was certain he is asleep. Shutting the lights in the house, she goes to her own bedroom. She sits down in her chair.

The curtain is open but her room was dark. As the hours passed, she grows strangely tense and worried about her mother. Prowling her bedroom, she stands in front of the window. The earlier brightness of the stars was gone. A storm brews in the distance. Opening her window, she smells the humidness in the air.

"The calm before the storm," she whispered softly.

The words made her shivered.

Steven started climbing the steep mountain. The truck is heavily loaded. He is feeling tense and nervous. He was always an active talker but the auntie beside him was too silent. Her very silence made him keep seeing the eyes of her daughter.

He is a man but he admitted to himself, he was very much afraid of that woman.

There is something dangerous about her, but he wasn't certain why he believed that to be the case.

He also realized the older woman's silence has him moody. He badly needed a smoke to unwind. Descending the mountain, he noticed a car in his rear-view mirror. Then it disappeared again, leaving behind a feeling of uneasiness.

Lowering his speed considerable, it was a lucky decision, his tire suddenly burst. Thinking fast and reacting slow, he lost control of the truck. It smashed into the side of the hill, burst backwards and spun around to face the road.

He hit his head against the steering wheel. He was hurt and dizzy. His world a blur but he was still conscious and immensely relief that the truck didn't overturned.

Looking at his passenger, she was slumped against the door. Searching in the dim light, he found her purse. With it in hand, he climbed out; kneel in front of the one remaining main light. He couldn't believe his luck when he found the big wad of money. Dumping the handbag, he walks away. Before he vanished completely into the night, he looked back. He just had too.

He sees Joyce and a man standing in front of the truck, watching him. The picture they made had a sinister quality about it. The man looking at him that made his skin crawl it feels like earlier in the truck, that he remembered the changeable eyes of the daughter, her image back in his mind freak him he bolted into the night.

Anna van Dyke opens the coffee shop. She had a restless and unsettled night behind her. When she is like this, one of her children messed up. Nervous and on edge, she starts the coffee machine bumping against the counter, the keys dropped to the floor, looking at it.

"Shamane"

The name popped into her mind. Her very instinct warned her something happened. The keys she holds tightly pricked her hand. A tiny drop of blood appeared. Completely on edge now, she tries her best to prepare the coffee shop.

A long-distance trucker stops at the garage. Anna watched two men climbing out. She frowned heavily, not liking what she sees. The men entered the shop together.

"Morning, Anna. Is the coffee ready?"

"Almost take a seat while I make breakfast, Gene."

"Is Joan home?"

"Yes." Anna looks at Eugene Hoffman. She like him as her son-in-law, but his sister is her boss. The young woman is so reserved it was hard to know her. Nevertheless, Shamane loves her mother and something is wrong, done by the hand of her own child, she was certain.

She watched Gene goes to the rest room. The moment she is alone her with son, she slapped him behind the head.

"Did you smoke something, Steven? Don't lie to me; I can see it in your eyes."

"Cool it Ma. Why the early mornings hassle?"

"Where is Joyce Hoffman?"

"Who" Steven slowly focused his eyes. His mind is hazy.

"Joyce Hoffman, is she safe?" Anna grabs him by the shirt and shakes him. "Think, Steven," she hissed urgently.