Trinity Found: The Lost Daughter Of Angor Series - Book 1

by Settle Myer

  He finally tears his focus away from the roadside. “Well, the King didn’t send me to protect you. Chanel did. I’m sure the King has no idea I could be your anima mate.”

  “You two are anima mates?” Chanel asks, turning slightly in her seat again.

  Julian releases my hand. “We only suspect,” he says. “Unless someone knows the exact time Trinity was born, then we can only go off the progression and strength of our connection over the next few days,” Julian crosses his arms and turns his attention back to the window. Great. Grumpy Julian has returned. He’s clearly not used to the PDA. Or maybe he’s just not accustomed to expressing his emotions in general.

  “Julian, you know how dangerous it would be if it were true. I should send you back to Angor, immediately,” Chanel urges.

  “What? No!” I plead.

  “Your Grace, if you two-”

  “Yes, I know. We won’t... have sex, okay?”

  Julian shifts in his seat, silent. He chews on his thumbnail. I sure wished he’d back me up on this.

  “Look. Julian has this way of calming me down in stressful situations. If he leaves, I will legit have a meltdown.” The thought of him not being by my side already tugs at my anxious-ridden soul.

  Chanel sighs. Her eyes dart back and forth between Julian and me. Julian has yet to chime in, and he seems to have gone into shutdown mode.

  “Fine. He can stay. But don’t make me regret this. And keep your hands to yourselves.”

  I smile ear to ear and glance at Julian’s way. He still refuses to look my way, but I didn’t miss his beautiful pink lips curving up slightly before he put back on his sullen teenager mask. Despite Julian’s emotional whiplash, everyone else has finally relaxed. The danger remains, it sits in the pit of my stomach, but it’s not imminent, and that has helped ease my nerves, so it doesn’t feel like they’re about to rip out of my skin.

  I start nodding off a little over an hour on the road. One down, six more hours to go. I see signs for Philadelphia and wish we could stop so I could go explore. Sadly, my life up until this point was pretty unadventurous. We really couldn’t afford to travel. And most of the money I made at my job went straight into my college fund. I never went to Disney World despite my childhood obsession with the movies, princesses, and castles. The Parks couldn’t afford to send me on my senior class trip to England. Instead, our family trips consisted of Coney Island, the Bronx Zoo, and a one-time trip to the Catskills. Don’t get me wrong, all of those places were great, and, at the time, I thought they were the best family vacations. Until I got older and realized everyone my age had gone on cruises or posed in front of the Eiffel Tower in Paris. Suddenly, my ride on The Cyclone wasn’t all that spectacular.

  I’m in the middle of hating my life while reminiscing about the good parts when the SUV lurches forward, whipping my head nearly into the seat in front of me. The wheels squeal, and we fishtail across a few lanes as Falon attempts to control the steering wheel.

  Julian, Chanel, and Chad start arming up, cocking guns, and pulling weapons out of hiding spots throughout the vehicle. The guns are not like the ones on Earth. These guns seem more high-tech, like they were about to shoot lasers out of them. If they pull out a lightsaber, I will lose my shit. It was one thing to cosplay Princess Leia, but to be her in real life is every little Star Wars nerd’s dream come true.

  “Martinez, what was that?” Chanel barks into a watch on her wrist.

  Rosie’s response is full of static, and the only word we can make out is ‘rebels.’

  Suddenly, a massive explosion from behind sends the second SUV flying through the air. It lands on its roof and skids at least thirty feet. A silver Suburban emerges from the fire, sends plumes of smoke, and slams into us. The impact hurls our Audi on its side, and we crash into the concrete median.

  My ears ring, and I hold my throbbing head. I feel something wet on my palm. Blood. I touch my tender eyebrow, panic growing at the pit of my stomach. We just crashed. The rebels found us, and we crashed, and they’re going to kill us. Rough fingers wrap around my wrist, and it’s that familiar energy that I’ve come to long for. Julian. His lip is cut, and there’s blood dripping down the side of his face from a slash at his hairline.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, grimacing from his pain. He holds the side of his stomach.

  My eyes widen, and I try to reach his arm to pull it away and inspect his injury, but I am caught by the seatbelt which is the only thing preventing me from falling as I hang in the seat.

  “It’s just a bruise. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me,” Julian says, grinding his teeth which makes me believe he’s lying.

  “Your Grace!” Chanel yells, crawling back to us. She carefully unbuckles me then helps Julian out of his seat.

  We climb to the rear and find Chad alive but passed out. Chanel slaps his face a few times, and he slowly comes to reality. Amazingly, he escaped the crash with nothing but a scratch on his arm. I look back at the driver’s seat and wait for Falon to make his way out.

  “He’s dead,” Chanel says, remorseful.

  My heart fills with pain. Falon is dead because of me. Because he was assigned to protect me. I know nothing about him. Did he have a family? He was so young.

  A gun firing and glass shattering pull me away from my momentary grief. Chanel peers out the now missing rear window, shot out by bullets. She scans the road for rebels before ushering us out, one by one. Chad is the last one out when a bullet flies past his face, nearly grazing his cheek before embedding in the concrete barrier next to him. I look past the front of the crashed Audi and see at least six rebels running towards us, guns raised, ready to shoot.

  A series of shots from behind us rattle my bones, and suddenly, two of the six rebels running our way collapse to the ground. Rosie, Reed, and Skyler run up with guns pointed. The three are out of breath and covered in black smoke and wounds. A deep cut across Reed’s forehead heals before my eyes, reminding me that he’s invincible.

  “Lucian and Calum are dead,” Rosie says, her voice catching slightly. She’s quick to cover her grief with bravery and determination.

  “Falon, too,” Chanel adds.

  “We have to get out of here. More rebels are coming our way,” Julian says, wincing and still holding the side of his stomach.

  I march over to where he leans against the back of the Audi and pull his arm away from his body. I gasp and cover my mouth. Blood soaks his white t-shirt. I lift it up, and he has a gash across his abdomen from his navel to his left side.

  “Julian,” I whisper, wanting to touch the wound as if that would magically heal it. Wait, can I heal it?

  I crouch down and close my eyes, hovering my palms over the gash.

  Julian grabs my wrist. “What are you doing?”

  “I can heal it!” Tears drop down my face. “You’re not going to die on me. I’ll fix you.”

  “We don’t have time for this, they’re getting closer, and we are outnumbered. We must go!” Chanel growls. She pulls me to my feet, then takes Julian around the waist to help him walk.

  Time seems to slow down the moment a bullet hits Julian’s shoulder. He collapses to the roadway, and Chanel yells at me to get down. I ignore her. Rosie runs over and uses her virtue to project an invisible shield around me. It’s as if a little alien that controls my brain has hit override. I am no longer at the wheel. The sane thing to do would be to run for my life. But my body has another plan, activated by the fury of seeing my anima mate injured. I push Rosie away, hard, and it knocks her to the ground.

  “Help Chanel with Julian,” I say in a voice that sounds like mine, but the tone is different. It’s enraged and ready to kill every last rebel before me.

  “Your Grace,” Chanel pleads.

  “There are too many,” Rosie cries as at least a dozen more rebel soldiers pile behind the near dozen already lined up like a police barricade at a violent protest.

  I mindlessly walk away from the crashed Audi, leaving Julian and the
five remaining Royal Guards behind. I laugh at the growing army before me, holding shields as if that will protect them. A hum of energy courses through my veins. I’m pulling it from every source I can; power lines, nearby cars left stranded by terrified drivers who happened to witness this otherworldly car chase and battle. The hairs on the back of my neck and arms rise, my skin engulfed in heat from the vigor taking over.

  The brigade of rebels fire their futuristic guns at me, but the bullets stop half-way. I did that. I stopped them. I’d mentally thrown up a forcefield. The bullets drop to the paved road, and I walk over them like a trail of Legos left out by a child. The face of every single rebel soldier drops, replaced with terror over at the realization that they messed up.

  I hold up my palm, and behind me, the pile of fallen bullets rises. I flicker my finger to the line of men and women, and the bullets race off. The front row of soldiers drops, one by one. The corner of my mouth curls up, and I slowly tread towards the remaining group. Their fear starts nipping at my nerves. But instead of taking me over and causing me to lose focus, their trepidation fuels my mission. And that mission is to kill them all.

  My head whips to an abandoned minivan on the other side of the concrete barrier, just inches away from the eight or so remaining rebels. I hold out my arm, and with another jolt of my wrist, the minivan rises from the road and lands on top of the insurgents.

  I stand, observing the carnage my unfettered virtues caused. What have I done? The power surging within me dwindles. Like a battery being drained. I’m lightheaded and struggle to keep my eyes open. The last thing I remember is hearing police sirens in the distance and Chanel and Reed running towards me.

  Chapter 6

  Julian.

  My eyes pop open, and I gasp for air. I stare at a wooden ceiling, taking in the scent of pine and campfire.

  “Hey, hey! It’s okay. You’re okay,” Julian whispers, his hand cupping the side of my face.

  He's in a chair at the side of the bed next to me. I sit up and pull him into a hug, squeezing tight and declaring to never let go.

  “Can’t breathe,” Julian wheezes.

  I let go and inspect his wounds, running my fingers through his hair to see his head laceration has been covered. The cut on his lip, near gone. I pull down the collar of his t-shirt to examine the bandaged bullet wound. Then, I lift the bottom of the shirt to see the gash has been cleaned and dressed. My fingertips gently trace along the tape. Julian tenses at my touch, and I pull back my hand, worried I hurt him. Tears fall down my cheeks.

  “I’m fine,” he says quietly, finding my hand and embracing it with his. He wipes away the escaped tears with the thumb of his other hand. “We have advanced medicine. These wounds will be nothing but scars tomorrow.”

  His calming caress releases the fear, anxiety, and tension holding me hostage. I place my palm to the side of his face, and he leans into it, closing his eyes. I rest my forehead against his while my hand finds the nape of his neck. My lips gravitate towards his mouth and, when they get close enough, tiny shocks of static electricity fill the tiny space in between.

  Julian flinches and pulls back slightly. His uncertainty sends knives piercing through my heart.

  “I’m sorry, I.”

  Julian shakes his head. “We can’t give in to the anima mate. It’s too dangerous.” His breath fans across my mouth. Hints of mint and mocha fill my nose, like he brushed his teeth then drank a coffee.

  “Of course,” I whisper. And I wait for Julian to release his grip from my sides or remove my hands from his neck. But we sit there, torturing ourselves as we fight the overpowering attraction for each other.

  “You smell like lavender and vanilla,” Julian murmurs.

  That’s it. I just want one kiss. What harm can that do’ It's not long before my lips find his. They're eager and soft, and I open my mouth to let him in. His tongue plunges in, massaging my own. He tastes like dessert. I want more as I pull on his bottom lip. He smiles against my mouth, and it ignites me in my core. I thrust my tongue in, hoping to lap up every sweet kiss he has to offer.

  A stream of wind bursts through the window, and the invisible force wraps around us, trapping us inside a vortex of lust. Julian pulls away, but only to trail his kisses down my cheek and neck. I close my eyes and arch into him, allowing his hands to explore my backside. His lips find my collar bone, and my breath hitches. The lights flickering force me to open my eyes and, seconds later, the five protectors barge in.

  The wind rushes back out, closing the window with it. The lights stop the chaotic flashing. Julian and I are left in an embrace. I hide my head in his chest. Yet again, the Royal Guard has walked in on us giving in to our anima mate.

  “Okay! Nothing to see here!” Chanel says, fumbling over her words. I peek over Julian’s shoulder and see her ushering the soldiers out. She stops in the door frame and narrows her eyes at us. “Didn’t I say to keep your hands to yourself?”

  “Can’t we at least kiss each other? Come on!” I scoff. Julian closes his eyes, covering his mouth to hide his amusement. He keeps his back to Chanel, probably to avoid her wrath.

  “Don’t make me assign Reed as your protector,” she warns and closes the door.

  I fall back onto the bed and pull the covers over my head.

  “How embarrassing!”

  Julian pulls the blanket down, smiling at me like a fool. He brushes my messy hair out of my face.

  “Is this going to happen every time? With the lights? The wind thing was new,” I sigh and throw the covers off me, pulling my knees to my chest.

  “Actually, once we teach you how to control your virtues, that should stop. You also won’t pass out every time,” Julian says, rubbing my arm – his touch doing the trick to calm me down, once again.

  “Great, when do we get started?”

  The next morning at the butt crack of dawn, I roll out of bed and stumble down the hallway to the only bathroom inside the three-bedroom cabin tucked away in the woods of Virginia. After doing my business, I return to the room to dress for training with Reed. Julian is already gone. The cot he slept in at the end of the bed topped with a pillow and folded blanket.

  I tiptoe through the quiet cabin to the kitchen to pour myself a cup of coffee. Skyler is asleep and snoring on the couch. Guess he lost out when picking rooms leaving Reed and Chad to bunk in one room and Rosie and Chanel in the other. Chad had actually argued to bunk with Chanel, whining that Reed farts in his sleep. Chanel was not having it. While testing out my mind-reading virtue, I found out that Chad has a crush on Chanel. But Chanel actually likes Rosie. But Rosie isn’t gay. Rosie actually used to date Reed and still hopes to get back together with him. Meanwhile, Skyler is crushing hard on Julian. And, well, we know that’s not going to happen. As for Reed, he’s still in love with Rosie, but he refuses to let his emotions take over while on a mission. That mission being protecting me and killing Hyde. So, does that mean, after all this, Rosie and Reed will get back together? It was like a reality show. The love-triangles, er love-pentagon, is addicting and part of me wants to meddle.

  I sit at the table to drink my coffee and stuff my face with a cream-filled donut from a box left on the counter. I didn’t know who kept bringing all this delicious food, but my bottomless stomach is thankful. After finishing my food and coffee, I toss the trash and rinse out the mug. I’m about to head outside to find Reed, and I’m guessing that’s where Julian has snuck off to, when I spot a laptop on the counter.

  My heart skips a beat. I look around, making sure the coast is clear before opening it up. I’ve missed my phone and wonder if the few friends I have are worried about me. The laptop, which belongs to Reed, is password protected. I use the knowledge gathered from my mind reading and type in Rosie. That didn’t work. I try Reed. Nope. I went through several more combinations, including ‘Reed and Rosie’ and ‘I love Rosie’ until finally, ‘Reed loves Rosie.’ Bingo!

  I open a browser and pull up my social media pages. Every sin
gle account I once had, now deactivated. Has my entire existence on this Earth been erased?

  “We couldn’t risk you trying to reach out to your friends or the Parks, so we deleted all your accounts,” Julian says quietly’ He's leaning against the door frame, hands in the pockets of the black faux leather jacket he constantly wears.

  “So, my friends just think I disappeared?” My throat tightens, and a wave of regret washes over me.

  “We used Angor’s advanced technology to fake a video of you letting everyone know you were moving away to go live with a cousin after your parents died in a car accident. We had you explain that you were getting off social media because it was all too much,” Julian says, walking into the kitchen to stand next to me. “We informed your school as well, cleaned up any loose ends, including your job at Donnie’s and any person who may have been worried about your sudden disappearance.”

  “The Parks... they’re not...”

  “No, of course not. I told you they would be protected, and they are. They have a new life somewhere the rebels and Hyde will never find.”

  I slam the laptop shut and push it away. Julian rubs my back, and I shrug him off.

  “Stop!”

  He holds up his hands in defense.

  “You can’t keep shielding me from this reality. Sometimes I need to be sad, or scared, or anxious. So, knock it off with the magic calming spell or whatever it is,” I plea and storm out of the cabin.

  The shock from the past couple of days is finally catching up to me. I'm starting to realize that I have a new life, and everything I've ever known is merely memories. Up until now, my mind has been occupied with staying alive and trying to accept whether any of this is real. Part of me still hopes this is some wicked nightmare, and I'll suddenly wake up in my twin bed inside my bedroom at my Harlem apartment. My heart aches that I’ll never be able to walk into the kitchen and see my mom cooking breakfast while my dad reads the sports section of the newspaper at the table. My stomach twists at the fact that my two friends, Chance and Xoe, will never again dress up as Yoda and Hans Solo to my Princess Leia for Comic-Con. Talk about whiplash. One minute I'm missing my old life, the next, I'm glad it’s gone. I can’t help it. My emotions are all screwed up.