Warrior Saints - Creator

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Warrior Saints - Creator Page 1

by Carla Thorne




  Warrior Saints - Creator

  Stonehaven Academy Saints Book 1

  Carla Thorne

  Copyright © 2020 by Carla Thorne

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover Design - Najla Qamber Designs

  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

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Mary

  I trembled in my bed.

  Or so I thought.

  Was it me? No. In my haze of half-sleep, I felt my cat, Paisley, sleeping beside me and breathing with a slight vibration in her chest.

  But then I was falling, and fighting as I fell.

  Darkness swirled around me and sucked the very breath from my lungs. With no air, I couldn’t scream, though I used all my energy to try. Help might come if they could hear me.

  But who would come?

  No one knew how I fought in my dream-sleep-half-awake state. How I left my body to fight on a supernatural plane where rules of gravity didn’t exist—until I was spiraling to my death.

  Or suffocating.

  Or clawing my way to the surface to breathe.

  The darkness crushed my chest and pushed harder still. I scratched where I thought its face would be and peeled its skin until the metallic scent of human blood filled my nostrils. But the thing that smothered me wasn’t human, was it?

  Logic managed to enter my thoughts, though breaths were hard to come by and oxygen was slow to reach my brain.

  I wondered how someone got into my room, through the alarm, without detection. If it were a large human, why not finish me off?

  But there was not a real human form. It was more of a presence, a blob, a changing force that covered my nose and mouth when it wanted …

  But I fought.

  I reached the supernatural space between my bed and the atmosphere, because if I’d learned anything through all those battles, it’s that there was no true in-between. I was either anchored and stable on the ground, in my earthly bed, and on my earthly feet—or I was not.

  And when I was not, I was fighting for my life.

  The other side is merely a door we walk through. The supernatural forces of evil exist just past the ends of our noses, across that invisible threshold, waiting…

  I knew as much because that dark force fought with me to drag me into some deep space or pull me to an epic, Biblical-like hell and take my life.

  I kicked. I flailed. I pushed imaginary hands from my throat.

  The sudden stench of death and decay lingered in the air, followed by the sweet earthy smell of fresh dirt, newly mowed grass, earthworms, and spring rain.

  That’s when I knew I was in trouble. It meant I’d lost my orientation in the battle. Because everyone knows a dead body stinks of rot as it’s put six feet under, but life stands by and waits and watches in the very ground that was disturbed to bury the deceased.

  So, I fought harder for the earthy scent, the grounded feeling, and the light of life.

  I dismissed the stench of death.

  In a final push of life-saving strength, I concentrated on the spiritual realm.

  Is this when I die again?

  Another voice, not from that creature, answered me. No, this is not when you die.

  With rage and determination, I twisted out of its grasp.

  My heart raced as my breaths steadied.

  I was asleep. I was awake. I honestly didn’t know what I was.

  What I did know was that I fought for my life on a regular basis. What I didn’t know was why.

  I gasped and bolted upright in the bed. Paisley stretched and rearranged herself against my cold feet.

  I was a survivor.

  I stayed alive.

  I fought.

  Because Shanar was determined to kill me.

  Chapter 2

  Mary

  And then there was the day I picked up that stupid snake.

  It appeared by that giant rock in Stonehaven Academy’s reflection garden, one second before the new girl screamed and lost her balance. It was like slow motion. Her dark hair swished in the air and she went down hard on her bottom.

  The slithering reptile curled into an S shape, and that girl’s blood-curdling scream split the quiet—and my eardrums.

  I had no choice.

  I grabbed the snake from behind, right below its brownish-rust-colored head. I lifted it high in the air. Away from my body, and away from the girl on the ground who I was pretty sure had fainted.

  “Mary!” My friend Deacon’s backpack hit the concrete path with a thud. His phone and a book bounced out and skittered across the ground. “Whoa, girl… Is that a snake?” He jumped back. “Why are you holding a snake?”

  I squeezed.

  The creature, helpless in my grasp, raged against me with every swipe of its thrashing body. “Help me push that bench back. I’m going to toss him over the fence and into the woods.”

  “Or you could drop it,” Deacon choked. “Because it’s a snake!”

  “Fine, Deac, I’ll drop it here at your feet.”

  “No!” He rushed to the bench and yanked. “It’s bolted to the path.”

  And yet, he kept yanking. Sweat beads popped out across his light black skin as he widened his stance and pulled on it some more.

  “Stop it, Deacon. It isn’t going to move. You’ll have to give me a boost.”

  My bare knees scraped splintered wood as I stepped on the cross beam of the tall fence and grabbed at the top with my free hand. Heartbeats thumped in my ear and pulsed through my fingers where I gripped the snake’s smooth skin. “I can’t see over, and I can’t get a good hold.”

  “Just throw it!”

  “What if someone’s walking back there? Push me up farther.”

  “Uh… How?”

  “Deacon! Are you serious?” I slipped. The top of the board dug into my palm as I fought to hold on. “Despite my butt’s proximity to your face, can’t you think of something? Grab my leg and push. Good thing this isn’t a real emergency.”

  “How is this not a real emergency?”

  Hot pain seared my calf muscle. “Geez! What’d you touch me with? A lit sparkler?”

  “Sorry. My hands are a little warm.”

  “Ya think, fireball?”

  Heavy footsteps slid to a stop and another backpack hit the ground. “I heard someone scream. What’s the matt— Wait… Why is that girl holding a copperhead?”

  Deacon squealed. “
That’s a copperhead? Get rid of that thing!”

  “I’m trying!” I hooked my arm over the top and ignored the pain as jagged wood pierced tender flesh. All clear. With a surge of power, I flung the snake over the wall and prayed it would fly far away and not hook its tail around my wrist and come back toward my face like a boomerang—if that were even possible.

  I wobbled on the narrow beam and flailed to catch myself until I gained control. My cheek came to a sliding stop against the scratchy wood. The instant sting of torn flesh made my eyes wet.

  Deacon’s fiery hand landed on my back. It had to be burning a hole through my dark purple school polo shirt.

  “I gotcha,” he said. “Come on down.”

  I hopped to the ground and dusted my hands. “Stupid snake. Stupid fence. I broke my two longest nails.”

  “Girl, you’re crazy. You picked up a snake.”

  “And you squealed like a girl,” I teased him. “Very manly, but thanks for the backup.”

  “Banged up your face too.”

  I touched the tender spot. “It’s nothing.”

  “There’s blood. And probably a couple of splinters in there.”

  “Forget it, Deac, I’ll clean it up when I get home.”

  The husky guy with shaggy, light brown hair and red, overheated cheeks stepped closer and motioned toward the fence. “Hate to interrupt, but that snake was alive, right? Why were you handling a live, venomous snake?”

  “Long story,” I said. “One we should keep our mouths shut about, OK?” I nodded toward the dark-haired new girl as she tried to shake herself fully awake. “We need to check on her.”

  “On it,” the shaggy guy said. “I’m Russell, by the way. Russell White.”

  Deacon shoved his things back into his bag and hoisted it onto his shoulder. “I thought your name was Scout.”

  “Unfortunate nickname I picked up this summer when my grandfather posted flyers about my Eagle Scout project fundraising activities.” He knelt at the girl’s side. “I didn’t get ‘em all ripped down fast enough.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and snapped his fingers in front of her face. “You all right? What’s your name?”

  “Mr. Berry.”

  “No, not Mr. Berry. Mr. Berry is our freshman science teacher. That was our last class a couple of hours ago. I’m Russell.”

  She clutched the front of his shirt. “No…” Her huge, dark eyes glittered with fear and confusion as a swarm of gnats swirled by her face in a ray of late afternoon sun. “Mr. Berry was here. And there was a snake. And a car. And he didn’t see the car in time…”

  I whipped my hair off my shoulders and into a knot at the back of my head so I could work. I dropped to her side and dug in my bag for a fresh bottle of water. “Maybe that snake actually bit her.” I tossed Deacon the bottle. “Open this and help me look for a bite or something. She’s obviously delirious. Get your phone out.”

  Deacon cracked the cap. “Could be the heat. Or the scare of the whole thing. I know I’m delirious.”

  The girl took a long drink of water.

  “He didn’t get her,” Russell said. “She’d be feeling it bad if he did.” He snapped his fingers some more. “Look at me. Let’s try this again. You’re in the garden at Stonehaven Academy. There’s no car. There was a snake, but it’s gone. Mr. Berry is not here. I’m Russell White.”

  The girl blinked four times and wiped water from her chin. “I thought your name was Scout.”

  “She’s fine,” he said and pushed to his feet.

  I let out a long breath of relief. “C’mon. We’ll help you up.”

  “Take your time,” Deacon said.

  I dusted off my khaki skirt and then picked long, dried pine needles from the girl’s navy one. “Let’s get you to the bench.”

  “I’m fine. The wooziness is gone. Thank you.”

  “Finish your water.” I plucked her bag off the ground. “You’re new here, right? What’s your name?”

  “Ivy Van Camp. My mom moved us here to southwest Houston for a new job and to be closer to my aunt.”

  “Nice to meet you, Ivy. This is Deacon. And this, I guess, is Scout.”

  “My name is Russ—. Never mind. Whatever.”

  “You haven’t missed much,” Deacon said. “It’s September, and this is the most exciting thing that’s happened so far.”

  Ivy stepped onto the path and brushed dirt off her elbows. “Wow. A snake. I thought they were supposed to be more afraid of us than we are of them. Or is that bees? I was going to sit on that rock and the next thing you know… Wait a minute.” She trained her chocolate-candy-bar-colored eyes on me. “I saw that snake and freaked out and fell down and you… It was going to bite me, and you…”

  “Snakes are more afraid of us than we are of them,” Scout cut in as he checked his phone and attached the earbuds. “You got too close to his territory and he felt threatened. And when you almost fell on him, he had to fight back.”

  Deacon shuddered and backed away. “No one wants to talk about that snake. Who cares what it was thinking? Let’s get out of here.”

  “Hold on,” Ivy practically shouted. “That thing was going to bite me.” She pointed at me as she tried to put the puzzle together. “You grabbed it. You saved my life.” Confusion swept across her face again. She searched the ground as if waiting for the facts to line up in her head. “That was you, right? I wasn’t out of my mind, right? But you don’t even know me and I don’t know your name.”

  I glanced over each shoulder. Curious students who were still around from after-school activities passed slowly through winding paths around the school grounds and glanced our way in the quiet garden. My life would have been a whole lot simpler if no one had seen a thing.

  “Listen, guys,” I said. “Can we keep this whole snake thing between the four of us please? I don’t want to have to explain it.”

  “Not a chance,” Deacon said. “This, by far, is the coolest thing you’ve ever done. It’s mandatory we talk about it.”

  “Please Deacon, no. I did what I had to do and I don’t want a bunch of people asking me about it.”

  “Suit yourself. We won’t say anything.”

  Ivy nodded furiously and tucked her bobbed black hair behind her ears. “I won’t mention it.”

  “Capito,” Scout agreed and shoved his phone in his pockets.

  Deacon arched a brow. “Ca-whato?”

  “Nothing. It’s Italian. It means understood. I’ve been studying—”

  “Stop right there, dude. You’ve already convinced me the rumors are true. Boy Scouts are as uncool as they say.”

  Scout glanced at the tips of his shoes and nodded with exaggerated despair. “The uncoolest.”

  “Leave him alone,” I said, but I had to laugh. “He wasn’t the one close to tears at the snake-tossing.”

  “Truth.” Deacon shrugged. “I have no use for snakes. Or spiders, or crickets, or armadillos, or those tiny dogs that look like rats.” He glanced at his phone. “I’m outta here.”

  “Me too,” Scout said. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I passed Ivy the journal and pen she’d dropped beside the rock. “Are you sure you’re OK? The nurse is probably gone for the day, but the trainer is in athletics. I’ll take you.”

  “No. I’m fine. My ride’s waiting.”

  “I’ll walk out with you.” I tapped the dust off my shoes. “Our guardian angels sure were watching out for us today, huh?”

  Ivy’s smile was shy and slow to appear. Her gaze darted again around the garden as if some of the pieces were still missing.

  I touched her arm. “Look, I can tell you’re a little foggy, and I don’t know about Mr. Berry or a car, but I can tell you there was a snake. You didn’t imagine it.”

  “And you really did pick it up, right?”

  I turned to face her. “Now that the drama’s over, let’s start again.” I extended my hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Ivy. Welcome to Stonehaven Academy, home of the Saints.”r />
  “Nice to meet you too, uh…”

  “Oh, sorry. It’s Mary. I’m Mary Antonia Hunter. And yes, I picked up the snake.”

  Chapter 3

  Mary

  I didn’t know why the principal wanted to see me.

  I crumpled the hall pass in my sweaty hand and shoved it in my bag. There was no good reason to be summoned to the upper school principal’s office. I hadn’t done anything, and that little visit to administration was going to make me late for algebra and keep me from digging in my locker for the Social Media Permission Form that was due to my soccer coach by the end of the day.

  Ivy rounded the corner ahead of me and rushed for the door. She lifted a trembling hand and sent me a half-hearted wave.

  My stomach dropped. What were the chances it had anything to do with that stupid snake encounter?

  “Mary?”

  “Hey, Ivy.”

  “Ouch,” she said. “That cut on your face looks like it hurts.”

  “It looks worse than it is. So, you got called to the office too?”

  “Yeah, and I’m kinda freaked out about it. I can’t get into trouble and cause my mom any more stress.”

  “Did you get written up for something?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Don’t worry. You’re new. It could be anything.”

  But I knew it wasn’t just anything. I knew it as soon as we walked in and heard Deacon and Scout already talking where they waited inside Mr. Parrington’s private office.

 

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