by H. D. Gordon
But when Samantha Shy wanted something, one was hard pressed to deny her, so I sat silently as I shoveled cake into my face.
Mayor Barbara Briggs was a middle-aged African American lady with a serious face and trust-worthy demeanor, she called the press present to silence, the flash of camera bulbs not even making her blink.
“Citizens of Grant City,” she began. “I want to first offer my condolences to all the people who lost loved ones in the recent terrible events that have plagued our city. In the past half-year there have been murders, kidnappings, and terror induced by a creature none of us even knew existed. Our whole world has changed right before our eyes, and the way things once were, is no longer how they are.”
Mayor Briggs paused, her gaze roaming over the crowd. “The most recent scare on the Grant City Bridge was a turning point. Those who were there that day are forever affected, and those who were lost have left behind many who will grieve from their absences for as long as they live.
Now, I want to say something that might not be taken well, not because I’m uncaring of how the citizens of this beloved city may feel, but because I think it needs to be said. Some of you will agree, and some of you will shake your heads in disappointment, but I have a feeling there are more of you out there who have experienced what I’m going to reference.”
Sam reached over and clutched my hand, and I gave her a smile before turning my attention back to the screen.
Mayor Briggs continued, “The Masked Maiden is not our enemy.” There was a pause here, a sort of collective gasp from those gathered. I leaned forward in my chair, my eyebrows touching the ceiling. I almost thought I didn’t hear that right.
As if solely for my benefit, Mayor Briggs repeated, “The Masked Maiden is not our enemy. Whoever she is, on countless occasions, she has thrown herself into the line of danger to save someone who needed her help. I’ve received countless letters from my constituents telling stories about how the Masked Maiden saved them in some way, defended them when no one else was near to do so. Though these acts of heroism are not something I can condone, I will no longer deny that they are indeed acts of heroism.” Another pause, the flash of the bulbs lighting up Mayor Briggs’s face.
“In short, I will be the first to say publically that Grant City is safer for the Masked Maiden, and rather than making her out to be a villain, we should be thanking her.” Briggs pulled her eyes from the crowd now and looked directly into the camera, her eyes meeting mine as if she could see me.
“So thank you, Masked Maiden. Whoever you are, Grant City owes you our respect and appreciation. That’s all I have to say.”
She left the podium to shouts from the gathered reporters. Cameras snapped and handheld microphones were thrust toward her, but Mayor Briggs just held up her hands and retreated into the building behind her.
Sam shut the laptop and turned to face me, a grin the size of Texas pulling up her lips, her blue eyes gleaming behind her glasses.
“Damn right,” Sam said.
“Damn right,” Matt agreed.
I didn’t say anything for fear that my words would come out choked. I still wasn’t entirely sure I deserved it, but sometimes you just have to appreciate things for what they are.
CHAPTER 42
I practically had to roll myself into my apartment because I’d eaten so much. Rubbing my hand over my belly, I looked down to see that I could pass for being in my second trimester due to the amount I’d consumed, and I wasn’t mad about it. Since being kicked out of the Peace Brokers there had been several times in the past half-year that I’d gone to sleep hungry, so I appreciated the gift of food more than would most.
When I got to the top of the stairs, I braced myself on the railing to catch my breath, telling myself that maybe it hadn’t been the wisest idea to eat an entire pizza and twelve-inch cake in a timeframe of two hours and then climb four flights of stairs.
To add to my embarrassment, Thomas Reid was just coming out of his apartment, and a rare smile came over his handsome face as he took me in. “How much did you eat?” he asked.
I narrowed my eyes and scooted over to my door. “That is exactly none of your business,” I said, but couldn’t help a small smile myself.
“What are you doing tomorrow night?” he asked, and the apprehensive tone he spoke this in had me turning around to face him. Looking at his aura, I could see he was nervous—an emotion I’d rarely, if ever, seen from him.
I shrugged as if my heart weren’t suddenly pounding in my chest. “I don’t know, probably wearing a cape and floating around Grant City looking for trouble. You know, the usual.”
His head inclined in a half nod. “Do you think Grant City could survive without the Masked Maiden for one night?”
I bit my lip as if to consider, even though my mind was practically screaming at me to thrust myself into his arms and declare my undying love for him. Luckily, there was a more rational voice in my head that warned me that this would be a bit of an overreaction.
“Will there be food?” I asked.
Thomas’s aura streaked through with gold. He raised one dark brow. “Has there ever not been food?” he asked.
I gave a small chuckle that came out more nervous than I would have liked. Was he asking me out on a date? Despite the fact that I could read auras, I didn’t know the answer to this. Now he wasn’t the only one who was nervous. It was almost ridiculous, really, considering the fact that Thomas Reid had been responsible for providing me a meal or two a day for the past half-year.
“In that case… I think I could clear my schedule.”
More gold showed in his aura, and he gave a single nod. “Okay,” he said. “Good night, Aria.” With this, he retreated into his apartment, my eyes following him until I was just staring at his closed door.
“Good night, Thomas,” I mumbled, and entered my own domain.
That night, for the first time in what felt like forever, I slept pretty well.
***
“If you’re leading me to my death, Thomas, I swear, I’m taking you with me.”
He laughed, his hands still covering my eyes. “Your trust in me is really overwhelming. I almost can’t handle it.”
I smiled. “Is that sarcasm?” I asked. “Don’t tell me Thomas Reid knows how to make a joke.”
Thomas gave me a little nudge from behind that made a shiver shoot down my spine, though I was careful not to let him know it. “I was voted class clown in high school,” he said.
I gasped. “You can remember that far back?”
I could practically see him shaking his head, a smirk on his lips. “Well, I probably would’ve lost the vote to you had you been there.” He cleared his throat. “You ready?”
“Yes,” I said, and could hardly hear myself over the pounding of my heart.
He removed his hands from over my eyes, and I blinked to clear them. Above, the night sky was dotted with stars, an almost full moon staring down at us. I felt my breath catch as I took in the location, which was a small piece of land that crawled out over the back bay. Around us, the still waters lapped gently at the sandy shore, the backdrop of Grant City making for a lovely view of the buildings, which were lit up with a million tiny lights.
I’d never seen this particular angle, and it offered an appreciation that could be overlooked when one spent the day-to-day in the center of all that concrete and steel. That wasn’t what had the air catching in my chest, though, it was the sign in the sky that did so.
A large spotlight shone up into the night, and over this spotlight were the initials MM. Surrounding these two letters was the shape of a heart.
When I could locate words again, I turned to Thomas, not bothering to hide the moisture in my eyes. “Did you?” I asked.
He shook his head, his hazel eyes looking at me so intently I wouldn’t be surprised if he were viewing my soul. “No. The citizens of Grant City wanted to thank you… or the Masked Maiden, I guess. I thought you’d like a good view.” Thomas took my sh
oulders and turned me around. “And, of course, the promised food.”
Set up near the edge of the water was two crates and a low table over which a white cloth had been draped. Atop this was a picnic basket along with plates, glasses and silverware. Thomas led me over to it and pushed the crate out for me with his foot. Feeling like a girl in a fairytale, I took a seat and watched him with gratitude as he claimed the crate across from me.
The picnic basket turned out to be holding two rare steaks, potatoes and green beans, which was one of my very favorite meals. Thomas had also brought sparkling cider and filled my glass with it, making me feel at once older than I was and inconceivably young.
We ate in silence for a bit, and when I thought I could do so without my voice hitching, I said, “Thank you, Thomas. Not just for tonight, but for everything. You’ve been really good to me, and it means a lot.”
I know, not fit for a poem, but true, nonetheless.
Thomas gave a single nod and said, “Thank you, Aria Fae.”
“For what?” I asked, genuinely surprised.
Thomas only smiled, the gesture making him even more handsome, his features perfect under the pale light of the moon. He studied me for so long I thought he wouldn’t answer, but then, in that mysterious way of his, he said, “For more than you know.”
During dessert—which I was delighted he’d remembered to bring—he asked me if I was happy, and I was struck by how much I meant it when I answered yes.
It was a question no one had ever asked me in my life, and an answer I wasn’t sure I’d ever been able to give.
AFTERWORD
Caleb Cross had never been to this particular facility, and when he thought back on the ride to get here, he couldn’t say he even remembered how they’d done so. The route to this location was fuzzy at best, and Chris had distracted him a good portion of the time with conversation about one thing or another.
“You look nervous, bro,” Chris commented as they entered the squat building and were led to a waiting room that was so white it almost blinded.
“I’m fine,” Caleb lied. Truth was, nothing was fine. He’d been so relaxed about everything the last couple weeks that when it had worn off his anxiety had returned tenfold. He’d been so sure that nothing was amiss with his father, brother, and Cross Corp, but all of a sudden he felt that he was missing something important. That, once again, he was being lied to, deceived.
A pretty woman with a tight dress and heels that clicked over the white marble floor approached Caleb and Chris where they sat on a white couch and asked if they would like anything to drink. Both replied in the negative, and the woman clicked away, returning to her spot behind a desk near the entrance.
“What are we here for?” Caleb asked. “What’s this about?”
Before Chris could respond, a white door in the white wall before them slid open, darkness waiting inside. Chris stood from his seat and motioned for Caleb to follow. Suddenly, Caleb was not just nervous, he was afraid.
He didn’t want to go through the door, wherever it led.
But he found his feet moving forward almost as if of their own accord, leading him toward that darkness. Panic filled him, making his palms sweat and his expensive shirt stick to his back. His head whipped around to see that Chris was not following him. Now he tried to turn and run, the urge to do so almost overwhelming… but instead, his feet kept carrying him toward the darkness beyond the door.
When he stepped over the threshold, he found that it was cold inside, the temperature dropping enough to make goosebumps break out over his skin, the beads of sweat rolling down his back turning icy. The door swung shut silently behind him, the darkness he was in now nearly complete.
A voice spoke to him from this void, and a shiver raced up Caleb’s spine.
“Hello, Caleb,” the voice said.
“Hello,” responded Caleb.
“How are you?”
“Afraid,” Caleb answered honestly, not sure he’d even intended to.
There followed a silence that felt suffocating. Then, the voice said, “That’s good, Caleb. You’re wise to be afraid.”
Caleb felt his hands trembling. Again, he wanted to run. Again, he could not. “W-what do you want?” he asked.
“I’m glad you asked,” replied the voice. “It’s quite simple, really. What I want is loyalty. Are you a loyal person, Caleb?”
“To those whom I think deserve it,” Caleb replied, again with utter honesty.
More silence. Then: “And Aria Fae, does she deserve it? Has she earned your trust, returned your loyalty?”
To this, Caleb said nothing. He didn’t want to hear his own response. However, he supposed silence was a response in itself.
“She’s betrayed you, has she not? You and your family. After you’ve done nothing but loved her.”
Caleb said nothing, but his heart was aching in his chest.
“Am I wrong, Caleb?” the voice asked, and in a more commanding tone: “Tell me I’m wrong.”
Though it was only two words, they were painful to speak. “You’re not.”
“So what do you want to do about that betrayal? How do you plan to move forward?”
Caleb swallowed. “I… I don’t want to do anything about it. Aria is a good girl. She’s my friend. She’s… she’s a hero.”
With these words, the temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees, and the fear Caleb had felt a moment ago turned to terror. Part of him expected to be slapped down by some almighty hand, to have the life ripped from him as though his soul were detachable.
But these things didn’t happen. Dead silence followed for what seemed an eternity, and somehow, that was almost worse. The waiting. The darkness.
“I forgive you for your ignorance, Caleb Cross,” said the voice. “You are lucky to have a brother who sees the error of your ways and strives to fix them. You’ve been deceived by a pretty face, but fear not, son, we will put an end to it. I will lead you to the light. Kneel before me, child.”
Caleb felt his knees buckle beneath him, his will doing the same. When he returned to his brother an indeterminable amount of time later, he felt the darkness of that room follow him out, as if some invisible creature of evil had hitched a ride on his back.
THE END… FOR NOW
Read on for a sneak peek at
Book 4 in The Aria Fae Series, THE HAUNTED HERO, available now in the Kindle store.
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A WORD FROM THE AUTHOR
Dearest Reader,
I wanted to take a moment to discuss some of the content of this novel, particularly the part concerning what took place between Andrea Ramos and Coach Sanders.
Though both of the characters are fictional, young women find themselves in situations that are similar all too often. If you are a parent, and are uncomfortable with this material reaching your young reader, then by all means steer clear, though I urge you to consider the possibility that encountering such a thing in fiction for the first time is better than encountering it in real life.
If you are a young reader, then I hope this can serve as an example of one of the many dangers of the world, and will encourage you to be on the lookout for yourself and your friends. Be mindful of who is around you, dear ones, and though in a perfect world you wouldn’t have to, be careful of the situations you allow yourself to be in. Predators are very real, and unfortunately, there aren’t a whole lot of Fae vigilantes running around to stop them.
If you are a victim of this sort of thing, you are not alone. Not by a long shot, and should you choose to come forward and speak out or fight back regarding what happened to you, I want you to know that that’s incredibly brave, and that you are my hero.
Until next time, stay safe and adventure on.
Xoxo,
H. D. Gordon
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br /> ABOUT THE AUTHOR
H. D. Gordon is the author of young adult and adult fiction. She is a poet, a mother, a philosopher and an earth-lover. She believes our actions have ripple effects, and in the sacred mission of bringing love and light to the world.
She loves big dreamers, animals, children, killing zombies, eating dessert and old souls.
H. D. resides in southern New Jersey—which she insists is really quite lovely.
For more information, please visit: http://www.hdgordonbooks.com
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Read on for a sneak peak at The Haunted Hero (The Aria Fae Series, Book 4) available now in the Kindle store.
THE HAUNTED HERO
The Aria Fae Series
Book 4
H. D. Gordon
Copyright © 2016 H. D. GORDON BOOKS
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
All rights reserved. Without limiting the copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and publisher of this book.
For my Moo. Again. Because I owe her more than one.
PROLOGUE
Darkness draped Grant City like a blanket. Tension held the space as if in cautious hands. The only light was the flickering orange of various flames tearing through structures and that of the stars and moon above.
