Infinite Blood

Chapter 1

His life was already strange, and Daniel's recent dreams had done nothing to improve things. For the first time in his life he was genuinely sorry to be such a vivid dreamer.

In his dream, it was always evening, and he would be back in the Hamptons, drawn there in spite of the negativity of the past year. He would be walking on the beach and staring out to sea, letting his feet head automatically toward home. But he knew Grayson Manor was no longer where he lived. In fact, it was actually painful to be near his former home, knowing the entire house had been changed -- there was nothing left of the Grayson family there now. It was her domain, and she'd buried the past -- his past -- under her odd array of decor.

And he would dream on, ignoring those changes. The sea breeze would blow and the sea birds would cry and Daniel would let himself drift along the sand, watching the waves swirl and shift. He focused on the ocean, sky and beach, allowing some invisible need to drag him along. He would always feel remarkably calm, in spite of the anxieties that plagued him during his waking hours.

He would finally approach a large driftwood log, and stop, sitting down to watch the shifting water and setting sun. He would be warmed by a kaleidoscope of colors, blues and oranges, greens and reds.

It was always at sunset that he came, walking toward Daniel as if he'd drifted magically out of the evening mist. He seemed to move impossibly fast to Daniel's side, yet there was a controlled grace about his movements. Daniel would slide aside to give him room to sit, then stare up at the familiar face, knowing he couldn't be seeing the man, even as joy would flood through him to look into his father's face.

"Rest, son," Conrad's dulcet voice commanded, and Daniel would let his body lean into the man, his head dropping to his father's shoulder. He would feel the brush of Conrad's breath against his face and neck, as words of comfort were whispered in his ear.

Then Daniel would briefly close his eyes, opening them to a myriad of bright and sparkling colors, vivid purples and blues. He would sigh, and shift tighter toward Conrad as dizziness flooded over him. He didn't resist when the glass was pressed to his parted lips. He would drink, startled by the salty taste of the thick beverage that burned his tongue and throat like the bite of the finest scotch.

"One day, Son, we'll rule the world," Conrad would promise. "And you'll be able to decide who you are with and who you punish and who you forgive. You can have your revenge, if you want it. Or you can forgive, if your heart is moved. You'll be yourself -- but you'll be changed. And you can go. Or you can come back. It will be up to you."

He was groggy and confused when he awoke, but mostly sorry. He wished he could just dream forever. There was nothing in the daylight that drew him. He felt alone and abandoned. His father was dead. His sister was impossible. His mother was estranged. And Emily? Good question.

And so he would move on, and force himself to live out the miserable days. The days that seemed to be full of gray clouds and the bitter taste of ashes -- of loss and loneliness.

And each night the dream returned. Then over time, Daniel found he was feeling the strangeness of the night was following him into the daylight hours. His perspective was flawed. He had the sense that he could move faster -- much faster. That he was stronger, as well.

One day, he ignored his normal schedule and took the day off, allowing himself to spend hours on the beach near his former home. The weather was cool and windy, driving the sand and tossing his hair in wild abandon. Waves rose impossibly high, and crashed down, spreading foam that churned like clotted cream along the familiar shoreline. In spite of the chill breeze, Daniel climbed out of his jacket, discaded his jeans, shirt and shoes, and ran in the sand, nearly naked. His shorts, soaked by the ocean, clung to his skin as he dove in to the sea, kicking away from the beach and swimming outward, further and further.

He was surprised when he heard Emily's voice calling to him above the noise of the waves, wind and seabirds. He stopped and treaded water, glancing back, back, back. He saw where she stood in the distance, her arms wrapped around her, her stance rigid and anxious. Why was she there? What did she want?

Emily paced the shore, her eyes glued to him. She was calling to him to come back, gesturing toward him with her arms. He rose up in the water and focused on her, then found himself laughing. He was amused by her behavior, though he wasn't sure why.

Finally Daniel turned his face away, and once again began swimming out to sea, ignoring the woman behind him. He swam and swam and swam, and yet he didn't tire, even when the waves lifted him up and slammed him down again, tossing water over his head.

He could hear Emily screaming, her voice suddenly frantic, and he once again paused. Turning to search for the sight of her, he was surprised by how far out he was. Emily was a mere dot on the distant shore. It was odd that he would be able to hear her at all, yet now he could clearly see her friend Nolan Ross running to her side, and discern their conversation.

"I think he's trying to kill himself," Emily said. "He'll never make it back, Nolan! I can't even see him anymore."

"Who is it?" Nolan asked, sounding worried.

"It's Daniel," she replied, running lightly through the spray of the waves as she examined the horizon.

"I can't believe you're this upset about Daniel Grayson," Nolan said, moving to her side. "If he's suicidal, who cares? Isn't he just a loose end from your agenda to destroy the Grayson family?"

Daniel could hear that Nolan was being flip. There was no sign he genuinely wished Daniel dead. And whatever Emily might feel toward his family, Daniel had the sense that she was concerned for his welfare at this moment in time.

She wasn't his. Their relationship had been false from the beginning. She had lied to him and tricked him and betrayed him. And in his anger and hurt, he'd nearly killed her during his drunken rage, shooting her as she stood there in her wedding gown.

After that, Daniel had turned into a monster, making Emily's life a living hell. He had regrets and guilt. And he'd paid a high price for all he had done.

And was he here to kill himself? To swim out so far that there would be no going back? To make some pathetic amends to the woman who could have been his wife, and the mother of his children?

No.

Daniel felt as if he could swim for days without any danger. In fact, he was sure he could easily move himself back through the churning ocean to Emily's side. And if he wanted to, he could do it in the blink of an eye!

But he was enjoying the majestic storm that crashed around him. Now he could see rain and wind pelting Emily and Nolan, pushing at them as they tried to see his form in the water. He swam further, then finally turned back. He felt reluctance wash over him as he pressed his body to splash toward Grayson Manor.

It was some time before Daniel again reached the beach and walked out of the sea, water pouring off him. He laughed, shaking himself like a wet dog, while close by Emily and Nolan watched him, their faces pale and incredulous. Daniel glanced wordlessly at them, grinning like a naughty schoolboy. Then he turned and headed into the wind, moving along the shore and away from them. They made no move to follow him.

"How did he do that?" Daniel heard Nolan ask Emily. "That was impossible."

"I have no idea," Emily replied. "And you're right: That was impossible. Even I couldn't it, and think about all my training." They both bent over and dashed back to the manor, and out of the storm.

They had no reason to know that even though they had been speaking softly to each other, Daniel could hear every word and inflection. Daniel pondered his own strength, and the power of his hearing. Plus the fact that he felt comfortable as he walked along, soaked to the skin. The rain and wind weren't chilling him at all, even though he was nearly naked.

Daniel knew his clothes were gone, lost somewhere in the storm. For one brief moment he wished he had a cell phone, and could arrange for a ride. Yet soon he was jogging along, ignoring everything but the sound of his own relaxed breathing. In no time he was back home, curled up under the covers of his bed, his body and hair thick with salt. Finally Daniel drifted off to sleep, a smile on his face. He didn't give another thought to his strange new abilities.

[I really hope you'll take time to let me know what you think of this. Do you know what's happening?]