8 wake up calls – guest post from MarcandAngel HackLife.com

8 Wake up calls – Marc and Angel Hack Life.com

 

During my morning twitter perusal, I came across a helpful link with life suggestions.  It’s a good article, but I decided to put my own twist on the 8 bullet points.  The following are excerpts from either Blood Memory:  Book 1 or previous material written on SA.  Let’s be honest, most of these, if not all, are no-brainers, falling just short of adding ‘Do unto others…’.  It’s stupid long, and if you got this far, why not go a little further?

 

1.  You might not have tomorrow to say, “I love you.”

Tugging hard, Viv dug her feet deep into the snow and finally Simon’s body went slack and she half-pulled him out of the tunnel. Scurrying back and away from the tunnel, Simon twisted onto his back, his mouth bloody. Suddenly the sweet aroma of her mate filled her lungs and she turned back to see Brig climbing out of the tunnel, looking bruised and battered. Immediately she went to him and jumped into his arms.

 

His arms felt like granite around her as he hugged her back, inhaling her scent deeply. “You’re here. You came for me,” she said quietly, pulling back to look at him.

 

“Of course I did. I jumped out of a plane for you,” Brig said smiling at her, his hands cupping her face as he leaned in and kissed her deeply.

 

2.  Your judgments of others are inaccurate.

The Pipers busted into her apartment, no doubt alerted to the crashing of furniture and glass, but were summarily dismissed. Viv remained kneeling on the floor, thankful she had not taken off her sneakers because of all the glass, but her heart broke looking at the poor little orchid.

 

Viv loved orchids. She wasn’t sure how the Alpha knew, maybe he didn’t and just thought she’d like it, but it was her absolute favorite. This particular species was a Cymbidium or the boat orchid. Bloomed in the winter and could grow up to sixty centimeters. It was mauve pink with five petals, the center a deeper hue of rose. She couldn’t bring herself to touch the flower and just looked at it as it laid on the floor amidst glass and wood.

 

“I think you should tell him now, Hammer,” Viv said as she looked sadly at her broken flower. And to her surprise, Hammer did.

 

She had guessed at Hammer waiting ten long years to be with the only woman he had ever loved. It wasn’t in Hammer to take up a scandalous relationship with the Alpha’s wife and it must have killed him to do it. The way he talked about her, even his tone changed saying her name. Hammer loved her more than anything and had never loved anything or anyone more since her. It reminded her of his father; Vigo never remarrying after his wife’s death, never fathering any more children even though it was expected of him. Hammerthynn families had a minimum of four boys and had been that way for generations. Vigo was the first to have only one.

 

How long the two men suffered silently, living within the confines of their indifferent and expected personalities. The only thing they had were their Jameson counterparts. Vigo had Duncan and Hammer had Brig – so much alike, they were. This was why Vigo sent Viv to the Pipers – to make sure Hammer and Brig did not suffer alone. Ever. Both sons were slated to step into the Elder positions, and both fathers did not want to see a lifelong friendship that had serve them well emotionally and professionally not benefit their sons.

 

Brig finally spoke, confessing the pain that Hammer had caused in him. Maybe Hammer really did think that hiding one secret for so long would not have caused this much damage, but Brig let him know that it wasn’t so much that Hammer did what he did, but that Hammer didn’t trust Brig enough to help him weather that particularly painful storm. What were cousins for after all?

 

When Brig stood, Viv did not stop him. There wasn’t much else that could be said. She didn’t look at him when he returned with a glass and did his best to save her orchid. But when he kissed her on the cheek in front of Hammer, the tears that had been welling up in her eyes finally fell. He understood the damage in her apartment was not just monetary or material possessions; that the orchid wasn’t just a pretty flower.

 

After a minute, Hammer stood, the sofa chair creaking as he lifted his sizable weight off it. Walking over to Viv, he knelt down and apologized softly, promising to have someone clean up the mess in the morning. Viv looked at Hammer and when he saw the tears streaming down her face, his expression was shocked. Painful shame rose up into her face and she turned away, standing.

 

“That’s fine Hammer. I’m going to bed now.” Viv side stepped by him when Hammer reached out and grabbed her arm gently, stopping her. Without looking at him, he pulled her close and hugged her. It was probably the most unnatural thing in the world for him to do, and it left Vivienne confused, her face tightening up against his chest. It reminded her of Vigo and how much she missed her father.

 

“Forgive me, Viv?”

 

Viv wrapped her arms around Hammer’s huge chest and cried. “All right,” she said, her voice muffled by his torn shirt. “But just this once.”

 

3.  Not trying is why most people fail.

 

It didn’t take much to get ready for Red. Fruit Loop shirt, clean (somewhat) jeans, and sneakers. His hair…well ok that took some time, but it’s hard to make lustrous, red hair look…well, lustrous. After the required time tending to his locks expired, Red took a long look in the mirror.

 

You really can’t judge a book by his cover.

 

He thought this often. His mirror image was just that, an image. Nothing, not a single action or word, wasn’t planned. The facade was a burden he was determined to carry and even those trained to look for flaws in this image couldn’t see the damaged goods Red saw every day in his mirrored image.

 

People looked at him and thought – there goes one ridiculously happy man, with a ridiculously happy outlook on life, and a ridiculously gorgeous woman who could quite possibly love him. That just wasn’t what Red saw. He saw a boy rejected by his father for inadequacies he could not begin to fathom, but must be there. Someone good at medicine, but without an official degree. Someone incapable of leading, despite being a sergeant. Someone who gladly shirked his responsibilities to someone more qualified. Red was, in a word, inadequate.

 

Blinking, he focused his eyes and put on his trademark smile. A smile that was bright and full of laughter, but didn’t quite touch his eyes. A band aid on a gaping wound – inadequate.

 

4.  Patience does not mean waiting and doing nothing.

 

“So I was wondering something,” he said, getting her attention.

 

Vivienne cleaned the crumbs from her lips, and without looking at him, asked, “What’s that?”

 

“Have you considered my proposition?”

 

She looked at him now, a smile playing on her lips. “Which proposition would that be?”

 

Simon rocked slowly on his feet. “I help you…you help me.” He shrugged, sticking his hands in his trouser pockets; he did his best to be as charming as possible, without sounding lecherous. “We’d help each other.”

 

“Handy, for sure, but you can’t help me. At all.”

 

Viv dispensed with the pleasantries and good manners as she took a huge bite out of her slice of pumpkin bread. The bread was moist and delicious. She almost wished she had gotten another slice and stopped to actually consider it when she nonchalantly told Simon that he was as useful as a ferret in a skirt.

 

“I’m not sure how you think you can be useful. You don’t have the blood memory, you have no idea when the blood memory happened, so you say, and you have no real reason to rectify the situation, real or otherwise.”

 

“Just because we’re mortal enemies, doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.” Viv rolled his eyes at him, but Huntington held up his hands and continued. “I have resources.”

 

Viv shrugged, “So? This type of information has nothing to do with money. Digging into pack history is a helluva lot easier for me than for you.”

 

He was quiet, but continued staring at her. Viv found it disquieting. His eyes were hazel brown and she was unfortunate enough to be able to see the gold flecks in them, meaning he was taking up her personal space again. He was tall, slender, but had broad shoulders with an A shaped frame that Viv could eat up with a spoon. Why were all the tasty-looking ones vampires or gay? Life was unfair.

 

Despite her attraction to him (real or something vampires could do), Vivienne took a sip of her coffee. Swallowing, she handed him her cup, which he took with a questioning look, and she wiped her hands clean. Taking the coffee back, she raised her eyebrows at him.

 

“Anything else, Mr. Huntington?”

 

Huntington blinked once, looked down at her coffee, and then back up into her eyes. “Have you considered all possibilities?”

 

“Such as?”

 

“Well – we both agree that it’s starting to look suspicious. A ‘blood memory’ so real it transcends centuries, literally… centuries…but it’s so vague that it’s more of a feeling than a memory?”

 

“Yup, and before you ask, I’ve looked. There’s no readily accessible written history of it.”

 

“Do you know what that sounds like to me?”

 

“I anxiously await your thoughts.”

 

He made a face and continued. “Doesn’t sound like a Pack issue.”

 

Viv took a deep breath and shrugged her shoulders. “What is it with you and these cryptic statements?”

 

“How much do you know about us? About our abilities?” Huntington said, changing the subject quickly.

 

Viv did not want to appear ignorant or uninformed, but she really was lacking in the vampire department. Her kind had very little information on the vampires, but in return, the vampires knew even less of the werewolves. Marthinus was so extremely tight lipped about his knowledge, and out of respect to a Pack member, they did not push – not hard at least. She should have talked to Marthinus first before speaking to Simon Huntington, but Viv shrugged out of frustration.

 

“Probably about as much as you know about us,” she finally answered.

 

“It sounds like a fake memory.”

 

“You can’t fake a blood memory.”

 

“I don’t know about that, but I do know that there is an ability that can implant a memory by other means, forceful means, without the recipient knowing about it.”

 

Oh what the hell, Viv thought. If vampires could implant memories, what ‘couldn’t’ they do? She fought back her irritation and glared off to the side. “Are you talking about nightmares?”

 

Simon smiled at her, showing her the barest hint of a fang. Viv would have given anything not to be right.

 

“So vampires have the ability to influence dreams?”

 

“Not all of us.”

 

“Can you?”

 

Simon shook his head, although if he could, he’d be interested to see what Vivienne dreamed about. She was peculiar with her disdain for him. Vivienne seemed to tolerate him, which only provoked him further. He wondered if being with Ellis again wasn’t influencing his personality. Normally he was the quiet shadow in the background, ready to manhandle and enforce, but even though part of Vivienne disgusted him, he still found her intriguing.

 

Simon leaned in close and whispered, “I can do other things.”

 

Vivienne nodded, looking away and mumbling an affirmative. She blinked slowly and asked, “Does that actually work for you?”

 

“Does what work for me?”

 

“The innuendos and sexually charged body language. I mean, really?” Vivienne asked, incredulous. “It’s almost insulting.”

 

“You’re insulted I find you attractive?”

 

“You’re playing into the vampy vampire stereotype. I see you as more of a strong yet silent type.”

 

“What do you know about me, if anything?” Simon’s tone was short and abrupt, surprising even him.

 

“I know what you show me, Mr. Huntington,” she replied simply.

 

Simon took a step closer, looking down at her, and invading her personal space so that his next statement carried all the weight of what he implied. “You don’t want me to show you what I am, Vivienne. I’m offering you a gift and you’re not being very appreciative about it.”

 

“You know, I’m not quite sure what makes you think I’m afraid of you. Or what makes you think I’m actually here alone.” Vivienne looked up and around with her eyes, opening her mouth in a little ‘o’. “Feel free, Mr. Huntington. Really.” She paused, looking at him with the same deadly serious expression he had. “Please.”

 

Simon looked up and around. There were people everywhere surrounding them on the sidewalk. In the early evening everyone was on the move, heading to dinner, heading home – a variety of body shapes, beating heartbeats, sights and smells. He straightened and moved to the right.

 

“Am I cold?” Simon watched Vivienne’s now emotionless face stare at him. He moved back to her left. “How about this? Warm, maybe?” He walked around her and leaned down, his lips brushing up against her hair.

 

“How about here, am I hot?”

 

 

5.  You don’t need anything more to be happy.

 

It hit her with a force that was unexpected. Letting go and releasing everything he was holding back into their shared bond felt like a painful gasp for breath. Their bond was all encompassing and incredible, and had most certainly grown since its discovery. Simon could not stop wondering what his life, their life, would have been like if they had always been bonded, but for that to happen, she would have had to love him as much as he loved her. This thought alone pained him to no end, and as it reflected in his aura, he saw Ellis react to it by covering her mouth with her hands and sobbing. Leaning in close, Simon whispered softly in her ear.

 

“This is how I loved you, Ellis. This is how I have always loved you, but I don’t think you ever loved me half as much.” Her body wracked with deep, painful sobs, but he continued. “Maybe you did, before you turned me. I wonder sometimes if you didn’t look at me as something tainted and just useful after that. When that nagging doubt started, so did the hate and this is how I felt.”

 

Simon gathered up as much bitterness and regret as he could, lord knows he had plenty over the fifteen hundred plus years. The adoring, self sacrificing love disappeared from their aura and was replaced by something dark and ugly. Adoration was replaced by disdain. Worship by seething hate. Ellis’ hands slowly dropped as she looked down and grimaced.

 

“For years, Ellis. As much as I loved you, I hated you. I keep asking myself though, if you had known how I felt, would it had made a difference? Not just for you, but for me. For all the mental armor I managed to build around me, watching you die filled me with as much relief as it did guilt.”

 

He began to concentrate again, reeling in the emotions when suddenly Ellis reached out and grabbed his jacket. What she said next changed everything.

 

 

6.  You aren’t perfect, and neither is anyone else.

 

He’d recognize that hand anywhere and when the sound of her voice finally filtered in from the hazy fog, a cold realization settled over him and he remembered.

 

They were in the sewer discussing business, at least that’s what he kept telling himself as he drove to meet her. It wasn’t because he had been thinking of her or that he wanted to see her. Being close to her always had an effect on him – whether she was being cold or dismissive it still triggered something in him that reminded him of how she used to be. Her playfulness, the softness of her touch, and how nothing mattered but him, right at that moment.

 

“Well…that’s a pretty good question if you think about it. Why would I help you? Historically, you should be separated into a thousand pieces and buried all over the world. I mean…didn’t we do that once to someone? I’m constantly asking myself why. But really, what you should be asking yourself here is…why do you care?”

 

His sense of worth was always tied in with how he could serve her. When that constant changed in his life, it shattered everything in him, making what he did that much easier. Looking at her now, with the trace of regret in her voice it was almost as if she understood that he had no other choice. He had finally confronted her, demanding to know what she wanted; whether it was all an act, a prelude to something diabolical to come or if she had changed.

 

Simon reached behind and touched the tender spot on his back. Something had struck him and then there was nothing. Shrugging he leaned back, putting his arms behind his head.

 

“What makes you think I do still care?”

 

The obvious answer to her question would be to say that he didn’t. Was it the truth? Probably not, but at that moment, he was lost in the innocence of her face. Her hair was wet, jacket was soggy and her makeup wiped away. She was as beautiful as ever.

 

Simon leaned forward slowly and repositioned himself on the bed, resting back against the headboard after fluffing the wet pillows.

 

“The truth is – I’m just curious.” Simon shrugged. “I don’t know who you are anymore, to be honest.”

 

Her transition from exciting new lover to blood thirsty vampire, and eventually to power hungry psycho, had been so seamless that the progression was so natural. The one personality trait that Ellis had always lacked was remorse and he had seen more of it from her in the past two years than in the thousand plus he had known her. He’d let her wonder where she stood in his life, if at all. Let her feel what he went through for so long.

 

Simon moved his legs off the bed and took a wobbly step as he rose to his feet. He steadied himself on the night table and his hand brushed up against the picture frame of him and Carol. Knocking it over he reached for it, sending it crashing to the floor breaking the glass. Without looking at Ellis, he picked it up and slammed it back on the table.

 

“I take it back – I do know you. This, this…show of remorse and regret is bullshit.” He angrily reached for his wet shirt on the floor and snatched it up. “It’s BULLSHIT. When have you EVER been sorry for being the person you are. For being so fucking selfish.”

 

Simon pulled on the wet shirt as his voice grew louder until he realized that the shirt was a total loss. He then ripped it off, throwing it back on the ground.

 

“You’ll never change, Ellis. This is who you are – you may have felt something for me in the beginning, but that part of you is long gone.”

 

He stormed off to a wardrobe and threw open a door, almost ripping it off its hinges. Grabbing a shirt off a hanger, he caused an avalanche of clothes to the ground. And then he stopped. Taking the shirt in his hand he undid the buttons with his back to her and quietly finished his tirade.

 

“I don’t care, E. I used to, very much so, but not anymore. I waited hundreds of years for you to love me back the way I loved you, but I don’t have to wait anymore.”

 

Simon slipped on the shirt and finished buttoning it before he added with his voice just above a whisper, “I don’t need you anymore.”

 

Then he felt small fingers on his shoulder, turning him and as he struggled with his shirt, he looked into Ellis’ tear stained face as she reached up and touched his face.

 

 

7.  All the small things make a big difference.

 

“Shiiiit,” Red said, “He’s drowning in his own blood.” He pushed Simon forward and grabbed the medical kit stowed there and pulled out instruments and tubing to intubate him through his ribcage. “I can’t…” Red started as he sliced into Charlie’s side as their Sergeant ceased to breathe on his own. His last breath was wet and phlegm filled, no doubt his lungs filling with his own blood. “Sir he’s, he just won’t make it across town like this.”

 

Viv covered her mouth and felt the tears in her eyes. The other Pipers reacted in their own way. Some silently, some with profanity, but it was clear – Charlie was dead, they just wouldn’t let him die.

 

Simon leaned forward and looked at Marthinus. “Do you still carry it around with you?”

 

Viv looked up. “Carry what?”

 

Marthinus opened up his compression bag and took out a six inch cylinder. He popped the cap and pressed the top of the button and a lethal looking needle slid out slowly. The cylinder had a clear casing, showing a bright red liquid rolling around. Marthinus held it in his hand and looked at the Beta.

 

“This is Eternity.”

 

“You are not fucking serious!” Hammer yelled at him. “You are not putting that in my Piper!”

 

Viv reached out and took the cylinder. “You carry around Eternity? From when you were human?”

 

Viv knew Eternity to be the vampire elixir of youth and also highly addictive. There wasn’t much out there about it, not in their world, or the human world, for the matter. The price was what made it so illicit, but its properties were practically magic.

 

“It’ll keep him alive long enough to make it to DI,” Simon said quietly.

 

“How do you know that it will even work on us?” Hammer asked. They all looked at Simon and then to Marthinus who remained quiet. “You and I will discuss this at a later date,” was all Hammer said.

 

LT was driving at a break neck pace through debris and broken streets, occasionally going up on the sidewalk, jostling everyone inside. He yelled from his seat, “You’re not seriously considering that. Charlie wouldn’t want this.”

 

Viv looked at the cylinder and its crimson red life. “How do you know, LT?”

 

“I just know! He wouldn’t!”

 

Viv looked at Hammer who was red in the face, but looked away, sighing heavily. She looked at the other men, their eyes drawn away from Simon and toward the cylinder. Viv held her hand over Charlie’s chest and readied herself.

 

“He’s not here to tell us. But we want this for him. I know we do.”

 

Marko reached out and grabbed Viv’s hand, she thought to stop her, but he looked at Charlie and then back at Viv. He nodded. Domingo reached out, and then Lewis, Marthinus, and finally Hammer. That Hammer participated said more to Viv than anything. When he called Charlie his Piper, he meant it, through and through, balls to bones. Losing Charlie would not just be a crippling to the Alpha Pipers, it would kill the spirit of the Pipers and Viv knew this. Charlie had been the go-to man, the listener, and the keeper of secrets. He was always there for each and every Piper and still made time for the Research and Development, being an integral part of all Piper equipment and upgrades.

 

Losing Charlie would be devastating. Period.

 

LT slammed the breaks and put the SUV in park. Finally he turned around and climbed into the back seat to reach them all and put his hand around the cylinder.

 

“For Charlie,” Viv said.

 

“For Charlie,” they all said and plunged the needle deep into their fallen heroes’ heart.

 

8.  Excuses are lies.

 

JT walked away from the dining hall trying to maintain his calm, but his hands were balled up into tight fists that tremored painfully. Things with the LT were not getting better, but he knew that had something to do with the Sergeant and Caitlinn. Being a Piper was not at all what he thought it would be. He had hoped it would fill that hole that the great Blue couldn’t quite fill, despite being a para-trooper and reaching insane adrenaline highs jumping out of planes, he was a werewolf and part of something bigger than himself. How was he supposed to know that the family he had no idea he was part of had tainted that world and his name? And now the dregs of that pack clung to him as a suedo-Alpha. His pack was all but wiped out, save for his Uncle who had separated from them before JT was even a twinkle in his father’s twisted eye, but now he had to deal with feelings he couldn’t understand, nor control.

 

Maybe the best way to fix the situation was to get out of it?

 

JT turned to find the Commander, but almost walked into Atlas Holden instead.

 

“JT,” he said softly.

 

Atlas was the only Piper JT looked up to, literally. Having grown six inches since his gifting, JT towered over everyone he knew, including Marko. Atlas was his father’s right hand man, but also the traitor that enabled the destruction of his pack. He gave the man a nod.

 

“Excuse me, Atlas.”

 

Atlas stepped to the side and moved out of his way, but walked next to him as JT tried to walk away.

 

“What are you doing, JT?”

 

JT stopped and felt his shoulders slump. “I can’t do this anymore.”

 

“Do what, be a man and demand the respect you deserve?”

 

He looked at Atlas and shrugged. “I’m not your Alpha, Atlas. I’m not ready to lead a dead pack, nor do I want to.”

 

“Do not mistake what I say, JT. My loyalty to your father died long ago and have no desire to resurrect what should stay dead.”

 

“Then what the hell-”

 

“You are the son of an Alpha, you’ll never be able to leave that behind or ignore it. The LT is reacting to you the only way he knows how. You are a threat, whether you want to be or not.”

 

“I don’t want to lead.”

 

“And that is a shame.”

 

JT closed his eyes and sighed. Atlas was older, certainly more experienced, but JT felt some sort of misplaced allegiance from the man.

 

“I’m a Piper, Atlas. That’s all I want to be.”

 

“Then where are you going?”

 

JT looked at Atlas stunned.

 

“Never deny what you are. And never let it cloud your judgment like it did your father. You’ll be an Alpha, some day, so if you can’t be a Piper, maybe that’ll do.”

 

Atlas smiled at JT and then let it slowly fade into the hard expression he always wore. With a deep breath, he pushed his shoulders back and became the new Piper Sergeant again. JT felt that presence resonate in his wolf mind and he returned it with a firm nod and side stepped his Sergeant, moving back toward his apartment.

 

His father was a stupid man, misusing a Piper like Atlas, forcing him to betray his own pack because his Alpha had lost his mind. JT prayed that someday, if and when he led his own pack, he’d have a man like Atlas at his side.  But there was still the LT. JT’s pedigree was a burden he’d have to shoulder. The LT was only protecting his position instinctively. JT would just have to deal with it.