Called to Order Read Online Free Page B

wake.
    The Order’s laws were simple, no exposure. The laws of their Amish faith placed some restrictions on what their kind could and could not do, but were largely followed without argument since their arrival to America in 1738 by way of the great ship The Charming Nancy . By the early eighteenth century, the conditions in Europe had become intolerable. Rogue outbreaks among their kind had led to slaughter. The dead masqueraded as victims of plague. It was known even then that their species did not need to kill in order to feed, yet there was no governing set of rules and consequences. Eventually, rivers ran red from the carnage, and the devastation was too great. Nine males and nine females fled the continent with ideas of a more peaceful future. It was among the Amish that they found the privacy and sanctuary for their kind.
    Ezekiel greeted Jonas in the study, dressed formally as always in his black slacks, black dress shirt, and tidy black suspenders. Although Ezekiel was almost one hundred and fifty years older than Jonas, they each appeared no older than their late twenties. His shoulder-length, black hair and glowing hazel eyes were identical to his father’s. Both men possessed a rugged six-foot-two build with an imposing, muscular breadth that would impress even their kind. Despite the years separating father and son, they could easily be mistaken for twins. Their years of working the land accompanied with a steady diet of organically raised animal blood gave their skin a healthy bronze glow. The only telltale mark that told them apart was the streak of white hair his father had acquired after the disappearance of his brother some eighty years ago. It was an odd marking for an immortal to have, as they rarely scarred nor could they alter their appearance in any way.
    “What brings you by this evening, my son?” Ezekiel embraced Jonas with affection, handing over his glass of brandy only to pour himself another. “Here, you look as though you need this more than I at the moment.”
    “That I do.” Jonas gladly took the tumbler from his father and sunk into a sturdy wing-backed chair facing the mantle. In this heat there would be no fire burning within the grandiose fireplace. He finished the drink in one swallow and placed the glass on the end table. Leaning forward, resting his arms on his knees, he forked his fingers through his hair.
    The tinkling of his glass being refilled and the quiet clank of the decanter being left by its side accompanied his father’s approach. “Well, my boy, what has got you so agitated this night? Something serious I suspect. Is Abilene doing better?”
    “Abilene is recovering well, or at least she was. She has found cause for tears once more.” His father tilted his head, encouraging him to go on. “It’s Adam. He has been called .”
    Always in control of his emotions, Ezekiel hid his surprise well, yet Jonas saw the moment his father truly comprehended his words. “Is the boy sure?”
    “Yes. He is without appetite, the sun is irritating him of late, his equilibrium is off, and he tells me he has had several dreams.” Dreams were not common occurrences among their kind. Although they did not rest often, when they did sleep, they slept like the dead. Scholars of their kind had done studies over the years proving that even brain waves were undetectable during a deep sleep. With nary a brain wave there would be no dreams, yet during the calling it seemed as though a mate’s senses awoke from a lifetime of hibernation with more sensory activity than some could process.
    “Did he see her in the dreams?”
    “He says no. He tells me he only gleaned a glimpse of images, a scent, the feel of her flesh, the color of her hair.”
    “That sounds accurate. I remember when I was called to your mother, my first dream was only an image of a brown frock. You could imagine how common brown frocks were in those days. However, it was the scent of her skin that told her apart from