The Dark Awakening: Urban Paranormal Fantasy (The Chosen Coven Book 1)

by D L Blade

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  The Dark Underworld

  Chapter 1

  Also by D. L. Blade

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2018 by Diana Lundblade

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by an information storage and retrieval system – except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine or newspaper – without permission in writing from the publisher

  Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, and places are products of the author’s imagination.

  Social Media:

  Instagram: booksbydlblade

  Facebook: dlblade

  Twitter: DLBlade_Writer

  Editing by Christina Kaye www.xtinakayebooks.com

  Formatted by Affordable formatting

  Book design by Redbird Designs

  Photographs by Photographer Scott James Photography

  Proofreader: Rose Lawton www.instagram.com/rose.proof

  Printed and bound in the United States of America.

  First printing edition October, 2018.

  Published by Fifth Element Publishing

  Author, D.L. Blade

  www.dlbladebooks.com

  This book is dedicated to the strongest person I know:

  My mother.

  They were there in the shadows again. This was the third time this week I had thought someone was watching me. The last few weeks, I’d heard the rustling of leaves and the crackling sound of old fallen branches beneath someone’s feet, or the hairs at the back of my neck would stand straight because I knew someone stood silently behind me.

  Last night wasn’t any different. I exited my car after an exhausting day at work and heard what sounded like a low, deep exhale coming from the forest next to Lily’s house. I swiftly turned around, fumbling with the flashlight on my phone, but when the light pierced the darkness, the sound stopped.

  Tonight, it was a silhouette behind my aunt Lily’s fence in the backyard. It wasn’t someone walking by with their dog or a neighbor taking out their trash. They were standing there, staring, as I walked to the sink to rinse my dinner bowl. I wasn’t going to tell her again. She’d just tell me what she’d told me last time I brought it up. She’d say I was just seeing things and that it was normal to feel this way after trauma.

  “Your turn, Mercy,” Lily said. Her voice pulled my gaze from the window.

  “I’m coming,” I said, taking one last glance toward the silhouette.

  They were gone.

  Maybe I am imagining things.

  Lily tucked her short, brown strands behind her left ear and took a sip of her red wine, gripping her glass firmly, while her index finger tapped gently and rhythmically on the side of the slender wine glass.

  Waiting patiently for me to finish my turn were Shannon and Cami, my two best girlfriends, and my ex-boyfriend, Riley. A brief glance at the clock told me we had been playing for over three hours. My head fogged over, and my lower back ached from sitting for so long.

  I gripped the dice in my hand before sitting back down and looked around the table. I wondered what my friends would think if they only knew what was happening with me. Would they respond like Lily had? Or would they believe me?

  I had known Riley since we were little kids, and I’d known Cami and Shannon since cheerleading camp our freshmen year. I could trust them, right?

  The truth was, a small part of me still envied what my friends had, that I no longer did. At one point, I had looked forward to dressing up for a night out, being the popular girl at our school, and I held the confidence I needed to walk in with my head held high as we crashed someone’s party. That wasn’t me anymore. I wasn’t frumpy by any means. I was blessed with good genes. I had my mom’s long, dark brown hair, emerald eyes, and a tall, slender figure. But now, I was happy in a T-shirt and ripped jeans because I no longer cared what anyone thought. I was now the shadow lurking behind my friends, and I was okay with that.

  Shannon straightened her back once I sat down and pulled her raven-black hair to the side, wrapping it into a braid against her dark, olive skin, and batted her fake lashes at us before stifling a yawn.

  I stretched out my legs, took a deep breath, and gave my cards a once-over. I just needed to roll an eight.

  Cami’s thick, long locks fell over her face, and she let out an exhausted breath to blow it away. “I can’t keep my eyes open anymore.” She grabbed her water, took a swig, and glanced down at her phone, checking the time.

  “I’ll drive your car,” Shannon said, “my energy drink is doing its job keeping me alive right now.”

  Riley flashed me a handsome grin as I rolled the dice a few times in my palm.

  As I went to toss them, I hesitated. The tingling feeling in my fingertips had returned. It felt like electricity vibrating violently under my fingernails. I had to pull my hands close to my body to conceal it and shut it off. Something had been happening to me, and it all started around the time I felt someone’s eyes on the back of my head.

  I glanced around the table one last time, pulled myself together, and gently tossed the two dice, so they didn’t roll off the table. One die landed right in front of me, showing five red dots, and the other landed in front of Riley.

  “It’s a three.” Riley beamed.

  An eight!

  “Dang it!” Shannon tossed the remaining cards onto the table. “Surprise, surprise. Mercy wins again.”

  I applauded myself and moved my hips from side to side in a victory dance while I grabbed the last Battle-Star, which would earn me the final, winning point. Once I placed my Battle-Star down on the table, Riley grabbed my knee, and my leg jerked to the side at his touch. I looked up at his boyish face as a small crease formed in his brow. Thankfully, everyone else was so preoccupied with cleaning up their game pieces, no one had noticed. I leaned in toward Riley. “We need to talk.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “I know,” I snapped. “We still need to talk.”

  “Sorry.” His voice cracked, and he lowered his head. This absolutely killed me. Riley was the nicest guy I had ever known, and I was crushing his spirit.

  What is wrong with me?

  Shannon looked over at us. “Sorry for what?”

  “Nothing,” I responded before he could say anything.

  He stood up from the table and calmly walked out the backdoor. I hesitated, deciding not to follow him.

  I’ll give him a minute.

  Cami looked around the room at everyone. “What’s with him?”

  Lily, too, had been watching the awkw
ard encounter, and she stood. “Do you girls care for anything else to eat?” She placed the lid on the game box and gestured toward the pot of homemade chili she had cooked for us. This was her obvious attempt to distract everyone from what had just happened.

  “We’re good, Lily. Thank you,” Cami responded for them both as she handed Shannon her keys.

  Shannon gripped the keys tight in her fist and turned to face me while pulling her purse over her shoulder. “Are you joining us tomorrow?”

  “Yeah. Just not too early. I want to sleep in.” I sounded whinier than I meant to. Shannon always scheduled our Thursday morning breakfast meetups for eight in the morning since graduation.

  “I really need to go, guys. I have to put my mom to bed,” Cami said as she tapped her foot on the tile floor of the entryway. Cami’s mom, Laurie, was an alcoholic. I honestly couldn’t recall if I had ever seen her without a bottle of booze in her hand, and she often drank herself into a senseless stupor.

  “Where do you guys want to meet?” I asked.

  “Probably Tippy’s Pancake House. It just opened last weekend,” Cami answered.

  I looked at her and tilted my head. “Tippy as in Ryan ‘Tippy’ Harrison?”

  “Yeah, I guess he figured out what he was going to do with all those royalty checks from that song he wrote a few years back—open a pancake house. His grandma Joanne tracked us down on Main last week and told us we had to go opening week to support him. So, we’re going.”

  “Well, good for him. And, yes, that works,” I said.

  Shannon glanced over toward the window facing the backyard where Riley waited for me. “Call me if you need me.” Shannon offered me an empty wish of good luck with a strained smile and a shrug, as if to express how uncomfortable she knew the moment would be for Riley and me.

  “I’ll fill you in at breakfast. Riley has a job working on Miss Darla’s car, so he won’t be there.”

  Cami moved past Shannon to give me a warm hug, but I tensed. I always hid my discomfort when someone touched me. Someday, I hoped I’d get better, but in this moment, I wasn’t ready. After Cami released me, Shannon followed her lead and came in for a hug. I took a deep breath in and counted to five in my head. As I slowly let out my breath, she released me from the suffocating embrace. They walked toward Cami’s car, and I sent them off with a wave.

  Closing the door behind them, I secured the bottom lock and strolled into the kitchen to see if Lily needed help cleaning up. I knew she’d tell me not to bother, but I always offered anyway.

  “Do you need help with anything?” I asked.

  Turning to face me, she said, “I’ve got this covered. Go see Riley. He’s been waiting, hun. You can’t avoid him forever.”

  She was right. I was stalling. Riley had more patience with me than I ever could have with anyone. I made him feel uncomfortable because he accidentally made me feel uncomfortable, but still, he was willing to wait for me to lecture him about not touching me.

  While giving her a forced smile and a nod, I moved toward the door that led to the backyard.

  When I entered the backyard, I scanned the fence a few times before taking a step forward. My heart sped up as I walked toward the gazebo.

  No one is out here but you and Riley. Relax.

  Lily’s low, red picket fence was surrounded by garden beds she had built a few years ago to grow her own vegetables. There was a long, stamped pathway that led to the gazebo which faced the back fence, allowing us to overlook the small man-made lake behind her property. I walked down the pathway and entered the gazebo, flipping on the lights lining the roof above us.

  Riley was sitting on the bench under the gazebo, looking out toward the lake. He held his gaze, watching the bright glow of moonlight on the water’s surface. Small ripples of water rolled over each other, caused by the light wind coming from the west. I sat down next to Riley and shifted my body to face in his direction.

  “I’m an idiot,” he blurted, standing up the moment I sat down.

  I felt all his pain as he tore himself down. This was my fault, not his.

  “No, you’re not.” I felt an overwhelming wave of guilt wash over me. Riley and I could talk about anything, and I mean anything. But in that moment, I didn’t know what to say. I was upset, but also felt guilty for being upset. I was angry with myself for how I had reacted toward his touch, but also frustrated that he just wasn’t getting it. I contradicted myself and I wasn’t quite sure if I should even be around people anymore, especially my friends. They were going to see right through me and hate me, eventually.

  “It’s just a habit to touch you.” The grimace on his face was too difficult for me to look at, so I turned my attention toward the lake.

  “I wish it was different,” I muttered. “You were the best boyfriend any girl could have. I was lucky to have you, Riley. I’m still lucky to have you in my life. I know I sound like a broken record when I say this, but us not being together was never your fault. None of this is about you.” I held out my hand, letting him touch it. He hesitantly placed his hand on mine and I gripped it, wrapping his fingers around mine.

  Breathe, Mercy. Breathe.

  “I know it’s not, but it’s not yours either. It’s hers,” he said.

  He didn’t have to say her name. “Hers” sent a wave of panic and anxiety coursing through my veins. “She” was my worst nightmare.

  He sighed and gently squeezed my hand. “You know we’ve been together since we were ten years old?” He paused, smiling for a brief moment, then lowered his brow. “I realize what happened to you was horrible, but you can’t run away from the good in your life when bad things happen.” He sat down again and looked into my eyes. “I want to take care of you. I’ve always wanted to take care of you.”

  Even under the dim lights above us, I saw how his bright blue eyes glistened with the tears that were threatening to fall from his eyes. A gust of wind blew his blond hair over his eyes and the wind tickled my cheeks, like a feather tickling the surface of my skin. I balled up the ends of my sweater and pulled it tighter over my body.

  “I need to work out my own issues and I can’t do it while in a relationship,” I said boldly.

  “You mean … while in a relationship … with me?” He moved his hand from mine and wiped his cheeks; the threatening tears were now rolling down slowly. He used his hoodie to dry off his fingers.

  “Honestly, I don’t know. But we need to start somewhere safe. Right now, being friends is safe for me,” I said, turning my gaze away from him.

  “I still love you,” he said.

  “I love you, too. You’re my best friend.” I stood up from the bench, unzipped my sweater, and slowly pulled the sleeves off my shoulders, until the upper part of my chest was exposed. My fingers traced along the two-inch scar on my chest.

  “This reminds me of how broken I am, every single day when I wake up and see it in the mirror. It’s a scar that will never go away. I don’t know how to love you the way you love me, when all I see are broken pieces. God, Riley, I can’t even hug my friends without feeling like my lungs are closing up.”

  He was the only one who knew. The only one who knew I faked every personality trait I used to have. He knew I now faked being competitive with games or caring about the next Friday night party. He knew none of that really mattered to me anymore. He also knew of how I’d coil into a lone place in my head whenever someone even lightly touched my hand.

  “Does it still hurt?” he asked with genuine concern.

  I shook my head. “Not physically. I know she can’t hurt me anymore.” I paused for a moment. “But I still have nightmares about that night.”

  I closed my eyes, remembering every detail from the moment I had left the graduation party at Cami’s house. The party was everything I had expected. We danced until our legs turned to jelly and Riley and I had shared our last kiss. We had finally graduated, and I was looking forward to the next chapter in my life. I had left the party shortly after two in the morni
ng, and without checking in with my mom, I hurried into my room. I was looking forward to lying down on my bed and letting my body relax. Finals that week had drained me to the point of exhaustion.

  I was half-asleep, almost dreaming, but still could hear the wind tapping at my bedroom window. A creak on the floorboard startled me and I looked up, expecting to see my mom. The only light in the room was the moonlight streaming through my window.

  “I’m home, Mom. Goodnight.” I yawned and looked toward the door. She wasn’t there.

  I heard heavy breathing behind me and rolled over to the right. My mom was right next to me, on top of my bed, kneeling over my body. An object, shiny and silver, sparkled by her hip. My eyes widened when I realized what it was—a large kitchen knife.

  “Close your eyes, Mercy,” my mom whispered softly. “It will all be over soon.”

  Everything happened so fast. I don’t remember the knife coming toward me, or calling 911, or even the ride in the ambulance. All I can remember is the eerie and forceful feeling of the blade slowly piercing my skin. After that, my mind completely shut down.

  My own mother, who had loved me since the moment I was in the womb, had tried to kill me. They found her in our backyard, sitting in the middle of the grassy lawn, covered in my blood. She never spoke a word until her trial, when she stood before the judge and uttered these three words, “Guilty, Your Honor”.

  She wasn’t convicted of attempted murder. My mother had hired a really good lawyer who had collected enough documentation from doctors declaring her insane. She now resides at Raven’s Mental Institution in Salem, Massachusetts. It’s a secure hospital where the most unstable psychopaths are sent. I was promised by the judge that she would never be set free. The thought of her escaping always made me a little nervous, though, despite his promise. We lived in East Greenwich, Rhode Island, only ninety minutes from Salem. It is a small, quaint town where everyone knew everyone. If she showed up here, I would have no place to hide.