Becoming (YA Paranormal) (Lynnie Russell Trilogy)

by R. M. Gilmore

  “Then they’d eat me up. If I’m like Percy, I’ll die in the woods in this fairly nice, twenty year old body,” I said to my reflection.

  The sun was starting to get closer to the mountains. It was time to sneak out for the first time. Just in case Garret got wise, I left a note on my bed. It said only, “Needed out. I’ll be back. Love you. Lynn.”

  I pulled on some ugly old clothes and pushed myself out the vinyl covering the window.

  I knew Garret would hear my truck start up so I used an old trick. In fact, it was a trick he’d taught me years ago. I threw the thing in neutral and pushed it up the driveway. Luckily for me our drive is kind of downhill going out so I didn’t have to push hard. As soon as I got far enough away from the house I jumped in the slow rolling pick-up and fired it up.

  I was proud of myself and I let it show. Aside from not crying every hour on the hour for four days straight, it was the first thing I could be proud of in a while.

  Becoming

  I decided to spend my night where I’d first become the beast. I drove to Blue Mountain Lake, this time I was alone. I pulled into the spot Rusty’d parked that night he…we met those women. I guess I was kinda hoping he’d be there.

  The sun was almost gone behind the mountains. I watched it set from my dirty windshield. Before long I felt a tug deep in my gut. I knew it was coming. I got out and planted my bare feet into the earth. The soil was cool and moist this close to the lake.

  I’d brought an extra set of clothes to go home in so I could leave my clothes on until I changed. It was more likely to run into campers or hikers up this way than on the Ozark side.

  I walked around in bare feet for a while. I looked at the lake and prayed to God I didn’t kill anybody.

  Around that side of the lake, up a ways from the spot of the witches and their bonfire, the woods are thicker. I walked around the lake, watching the sun move behind the mountains. I stopped at a gorgeous spot full of trees that’d shelter me from any peeping toms.

  Looking out over the lake I wished Rusty would come to see me. I wanted to look at him, hear his voice. It might’ve been because Hattie told me that Rusty’d loved me for so long, or if hearing that made me realize how long I’d loved him too. It’s quite a shame the old saying, you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone, is true.

  The last shine of the sun was blazing over the tops of the mountains like a raging fire. I knew the time was coming. The night would come and take me over. I felt a new sense of peace this time. Maybe I was just getting used to the horrifying pain and the taste of human flesh. Maybe it was the necklace or the new marks I had. I didn’t really know why, but I wasn’t scared out of my boots sitting there waiting for the sun to sleep for the night.

  “Oh Rusty, why can’t you come now?” I asked the open night air.

  “It’s not his turn.” I jumped half outta my ass when a woman’s voice came from behind me.

  “Who are you?” I asked her, climbing up from the spot I was sitting in the dirt.

  “This visit isn’t about who I am; it’s about who you are.” The woman talked with an accent I couldn’t put my finger on, but if I had to guess it would’ve sounded something like the red haired woman from the woods. Her hair was a dark brown and her eyes were so blue they almost glowed along with her pale skin. She wore a long white dress, like a nightgown. It seemed pretty strange for a woman to be standing out by the lake in her nightgown. But then again, not the strangest I’d seen.

  “And? Well? Who am I? I been waitin’ a long damn time for somebody to tell me, but nobody seems to know the answer. I sure hope a crazy woman wandering around in the woods in her lovely white gown can tell me.” I was being a sarcastic little brat, but I had good reason.

  “I’m crazy?” She said in a shrill voice. Her face flew closer to mine and when she did it changed into the face of an old woman. Her dark hair turned silver and her lovely blue eyes sunk into the sockets and wrinkled around the edges. Her mouth opened wide and a scream flew from it so loud I covered my ears. It only took a second, like a flash, but the pretty young face slid into a frightening ghostly hag and back again. As quick as it happened it was gone. The woman stood in front of me just like nothing had changed.

  “What the hell was that?” I asked her after I stumbled back into the dirt.

  “Just a parlor trick.” She smirked. After a second she sighed and said, “Aye, gammy cu.” Her accent made whatever she said to me seem that much more hateful. “My name is Avery.” She rolled her eyes a bit and slumped her shoulders like she didn’t want to be standing in the woods talking to a little barefoot redneck girl. “The powers that be have charged me to be your guide.”

  “You’re here to help me?” I asked her so hopeful it hurt.

  “No, I’m here to tell you how to not get yourself killed, then I’m gone.” Her voice made it perfectly clear she was not interested in being my friend.

  “What am I?” I asked her trying not to beg.

  “Godshite, get off the dirt and stand up. I can’t look at you down there in the muck.” The Irish woman in the white gown was obviously annoyed with me. I couldn’t blame her: I was in quite a pitiful state.

  I did like I was told and stood up to face the strange lady. “A’right, now what?”

  “Now, you shut up and listen.” Without any warning she let me in on my long standing secret. “You are a sidhe, a part of an ancient sect of fae…”

  “Fae? Like a fairy?” I smiled at the thought.

  “Not your American fairy with wings and all’at. Fae, true fae, are not sparkling little creatures flittin’ about it the woods, eh. Some are rotten little mogs, causing mischief and havoc. But there are some, like us, that have a job set out. You are a special kind of sidhe, you are in fact one of a kind. You are the only living breathing Cu Sidhe in this dimension. Now, doesn’t that make you feel special?”

  “Umm, what?” I didn’t know how to handle what I was hearing.

  “Look, I don’t have all night. And by the look of it, neither do you.” She nodded her head in the direction of the setting sun. “Here it is straight; you got caught up in a mess of magics. You turned into the little beasty, killin’ people and such. You killed poor Percy. Now, you got your hands on the Black Sentry.”

  “I got my hands on what?” I felt like a complete idiot.

  “That pretty little trinket ‘round your neck, Black Sentry. Magic as old as the beast you are. Said a little spell did’ya? Got the markin’s?” I just stared at the woman and nodded my head up and down. She sighed at me like I was dumbest most pitiful thing she’d ever set eyes on. “Ogham symbols. Part of the magic that keeps you what you are. Death. Meta. Power. Feral. Instinct.” She held up a finger for each word. “Ancient, powerful, and now yours. You sealed the deal love.”

  “Sealed what deal? I did this? I could’ve stopped this?” I was nearly screaming at the woman in the white dress. Panic hit me that in the time I spent finding what I was, I was might’ve been ensuring that I’d stay that way.

  “There’s no stoppin’ it!” She yelled in my face. “From the day you were born this was your fate. Accept it.”

  The woman leaned close to me. Pushing her words into my face.

  “You will bid the will of death until the day you die or another takes your place. You will never age. You will act as the bearer of revenge, justice, and punishment from this day forward.” She sounded downright annoyed that she had to say these words to me. Sounded like she’d said them more than once, for a very long time.

  “I am punishment.” I said, my voice sounded hollow. Like I was talking into a can. I stared off passed the woman in front of me.

  “Listen to me.” She grabbed me by the shoulders and stretched out each word like I was some kinda stupid. “You are a magical creature. You are Cu Sidhe. You are death.”

  “I am death.” For the first time in the week it took to get the answer I’d been searching for, I knew what I was. I accepted what I was told.
Accepted what I was. “I am Cu Sidhe”

  “There you are, love.” The woman smiled and nodded her head as if she was proud of me. Proud of my acceptance. “If only your granny’d done the same poor Percy might still be alive.”

  My eyes shot in her direction. She knew my nana.

  The pain came then, as it should, right on time. A searing shot like a hot poker in the pit of my gut stopped my mouth from making words. Stopped me from asking the woman about nana.

  Time was up. The night came to steal my body and replace it with a killer, with death. I fell to my knees at her feet. The stone hanging from my neck glowed a purple so bright I had to close my eyes.

  “Damned humans have no business being sidhe. They don’t have the soul for it.” She talked like nothing was happening. Like I wasn’t twisting around in the dirt. Like I wasn’t becoming that beast right before her eyes.

  I tried to talk. Tried to ask her about nana and Percy, but I was too late. The sun had disappeared behind the mountains and the darkness of the night to come filled the sky. My body collapsed and I fell on my hands from the pain in my gut. My back arched and a holler came from my throat that I’d never heard before. A beastly howl spewed from my human body. Beast and girl, one being, one mind, one soul. I’d accepted my fate, made a choice. And for the first time I was, truly, becoming.

  Meta, Power, Instinct, Feral, Death

  Fae, true fae, are ruthless creatures. Many have a purpose set out since the beginning of man and beast. My purpose was death. Vengeance. Justice. Punishment.

  That night at Blue Mountain Lake I was born, for the second time. A beast. Cu Sidhe.

  This is the part of the story where the action begins.

  Find the author on Facebook and Twitter!

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  Other Titles By R.M. Gilmore

  Dylan Hart: Odyssey of

  The Occult Series

  The Scene – Available now in digital

  and paperback formats. Read an excerpt.

  Endless Night – Coming late 2012. Read an excerpt.

  Sacrifice – Coming 2013

  Lynnie Russell Trilogy

  Becoming – Available now in digital

  and paperback formats.

  Existence – Coming 2013

  Apocalypse: An Anthology (Contributor)

  Welcome to the End of the World – Available now in digital

  and paperback formats through Cynthia Shepp Editing Publications. Read an excerpt.

  The Scene

  Dylan Hart Odyssey of The Occult Book One

  Only a few dozen feet into the alley there they were; the cops, the lights, and the body. I took a deep breath in through my nose and out through my mouth.

  Alright, fuck this joker. So what, he killed people. I’ll be the badass bitch who takes him down. That’s right, fuck him.

  I stuck my chest out and threw my shoulders back. With a final nod of my head I was off on my own. I walked with purpose toward the area where I knew the body would be located. I moved around the police cruisers blocking the action, gave a nod to the officers standing around doing nothing, closed my eyes, and walked straight ahead.

  Bare legs stuck out from behind a dumpster no more than ten feet ahead of me. From this angle it could have been anybody. Tatum included.

  Just do it pussy!

  My legs carried me faster than I intended. I was standing next to the dumpster before I knew it. I looked down quickly toward the pale legs at my feet. Purple toenail polish with glitter adorned the nicely manicured toes. Tatum had just gone in for a pedicure. I hadn’t even bothered to check out her newest polish color. Also, purple glitter didn’t exactly scream little misses Goth queen if you ask me.

  Just look. If you’re right, if this is the girl that left with Cyrus last night, you have to tell Mike. And if it’s Tatum, then, well…I dunno. Just look.

  I shuffled my feet as close as I could to the dumpster as I could without touching the legs that protruded and leaned over. I stretched my neck and bent my body around to see the face of this mystery girl. To my surprise, her head was turned toward the brick wall that lined the alley, hair flipped over the left side of her face. Mike had said she was in an awkward position; he wasn’t fucking around.

  Damn it!

  I groaned and rolled my eyes. I was going to have to walk around to the business end of the mess. I glanced back at Mike who was paying no attention to me. I could have been raping his crime scene blind of evidence and he’d never be the wiser. He must really trust me, or he’s really stupid. I scooted around the blue dumpster, trying very hard not to touch anything on my way. This time I wasn’t going to fuck around, I was going to just look.

  Yeah, right.

  I stopped dead at the other end. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see what lay at my feet. I prayed to whatever was listening that this girl was not one of my girls. I prayed that this girl was in a better place whoever she was. But most importantly, I prayed I wasn’t going to look down and see my best friend dead behind a fucking dumpster. No matter how improbable that may be. Also, that the man I had a major Jones for hadn’t slaughtered her. But that one was on the bottom of the prayer list.

  A sick pain sunk deep into my gut as I poked my head around the dumpster to view the face of the deceased. I could not see her full face with her hair thrown over it. The hair was the same color as my best friend, a bit disheveled from the act of death, but otherwise could have been her. Then again, there was still a distinct possibility this was Cyrus’ eighth victim. Trying not to think of the decaying corpse as being someone I loved, I huffed and puffed and pulled a latex glove from my pocket. I bent over her head cautiously. From this distance I was able to catch a sporadic odor of death wafting up from the corpse. Trying hard to only breathe from my mouth I pushed myself to continue.

  As gently as I could I moved the girl’s corn silk tresses from her face. She was looking toward the brick wall. Her left side was exposed; flaunting the large incisions along her neck. Her eyes were open, wide, and the look of terror was left on her pretty face. She must have bled out fast. I didn’t want to see this anymore, but I couldn’t make out her features from this angle. I shimmied around the girls head, avoiding her hair lying across the pavement, and squatted down next to the brick wall she was staring at. The hair seemed too long to be Tatum’s but I had to be sure. I leaned down, and looked the dead girl directly in the eyes. They were green. I let out a sigh of relief that the eyes I was staring into weren’t the beautiful crystal blue of Tatum’s eyes. She was pretty, but also not the girl Cyrus took home.

  A wave of confused emotions swept over me. I was utterly relieved that my thoughts were wrong and my best friend wasn’t dead. My sensibility had told me it couldn’t be her from the moment I had thought it. But my recent irrational paranoia wouldn’t let me accept it until I saw it with my own eyes. For once I was happy to be wrong. Similarly, I hadn’t wanted Cyrus to be a psychopath; in fact I had prayed to God that he wasn’t. Yet, I was surprisingly not completely relieved. In fact, I was slightly disappointed. Maybe I was ready to rat him out and end this whole thing. I guess deep down, I wanted payback. Now, I had to face the facts that Cyrus left a bar very schmooze-y with some random blonde girl, we were no closer to stopping all of this, and the dead girl eerily resembled my best friend. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the cool brick of the wall behind me.

  Fuck.

  Buy it now!

  Endless Night

  Dylan Hart Odyssey of The Occult book two

  It always feels awkward being in Mike’s house. Standing in his living room, looking at pictures of us hanging on every wall, posted on every surface. It was weird to think he walked around in this house everyday with my face staring at him from every angle. I always wondered why he never took them down. I’d hung most of them there when we moved in and I left them right where they hung the day I walked out. Apparently, so did he.

  “You never know.” Mike said from t
he bathroom.

  I looked in the direction of his voice to see a sliver of light around the door jamb; he hadn’t bothered closing the door. I have to admit, it felt very natural talking to him through a crack in the bathroom door. Like nothing had ever changed. I leaned against the edge of the couch just down the hall from the bathroom and listened to the water running in the shower.

  “Never know what?” I asked loud enough he could hear me over the running water.

  Small wafts of steam puffed out from the opening in the door and with it the smell of his soap. I hadn’t had the pleasure of that smell in a long time. I closed my eyes and breathed in deep.

  “The truth.” He said just after he turned the water off.

  I could hear him moving around the small room. Clanking his toothbrush in the cup, opening and closing the medicine cabinet, all the little mundane tasks we take for granted every day. Those little sounds of daily life pulled me back into a time I thought I’d almost forgotten. A time I was in love. A time I was safe and happy. A time I could never get back.