by Lola StVil
The Toren
Book 1: Shattered Souls
By-Lola StVil
Copyright © 2017 by Lola StVil
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.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
The Toren: Shattered Souls (The Toren Series, Book 1)
Book I | Summit Case | And when she was down, she got right back up. She was a beast in her own way, but one idea described her best. She was unstoppable… | —Robert M. Drake
CHAPTER ONE: QUESTIONS
CHAPTER TWO: TALK FAST
CHAPTER THREE: WINNIE
CHAPTER FOUR: HOME
CHAPTER FIVE: THE NEW GIRL
CHAPTER SIX: SHOW ME
CHAPTER SEVEN: ANGEL’S GUILT
CHAPTER EIGHT: THE “ANGEL” THING
CHAPTER NINE: I WILL DO ANYTHING
CHAPTER TEN: FOR LOVE OR SURVIVAL
CHAPTER ELEVEN: TOUGH LOVE
CHAPTER TWELVE: DECISIONS, DECISIONS
Book II | Lucas Ford
I lived a million lives, I would’ve felt a million feelings and I still would’ve fallen a million times for you. | —Robert M. Drake
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: CONTROL YOURSELF
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: FISH
CHAPTER FIFTEEN: DAMN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: TAKE A CHANCE
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: RISK
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: WHAT WERE YOU THINKING
CHAPTER NINETEEN: DO SOMETHING WRONG
CHAPTER TWENTY: THE WINTER QUEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: NOT NOW
EPILOGUE
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Also By Lola StVil
This book is dedicated to:
Tiffany Thomas & Nandi M. Bosia
Thank you for helping me see the island.
And
Darrell Miller
The best entertainment lawyer in the human world
And seriously, cash in the give card already: “Wendy’s awaits!”
Quick reader’s reference guide:
Toren = Most powerful team of Angel’s in the Angel world.
Quo= Half human, half Angel.
Seller= A low level criminal who committed non-violent crimes, but died as a result of committing a selfless act.
Book I
Summit Case
And when she was down, she got right back up. She was a beast in her own way, but one idea described her best. She was unstoppable…
—Robert M. Drake
CHAPTER ONE: QUESTIONS
I’m rushing out of my dentist’s office like I’m fleeing a crime scene. I would do anything to avoid the “post checkup” chats he insists on having with me every single visit. He always wants to talk about the weather and what’s new in dental care. That stuff is boring as hell, but I can handle it. But what I can’t deal with is the fact that our chats always end with him asking me about my eyes. In fact, every conversation I’ve ever had in his office ends up being about my purple eyes.
Dr. Soren finds it interesting that my eyes range from a light shade of purple to a deep violet when I’m upset. He does research on people with unusual eye color, and I have become somewhat of a hobby for him. He actually offered to help me find my biological parents so he could see if they too have purple eyes. I keep meaning to go to a different doctor, but I have yet to get up the nerve to tell him that I’m not coming back. I don’t even have the heart to tell him that his goldfish, “Pepper,” is dead. I saw it floating in the tank when I came in.
I quickly put on my jacket and zip it up before the doctor returns. As I’m headed to the door, I catch a glimpse of my reflection. I’m five eight, I have long dark hair with purple highlights, and they too are natural. So, purple eyes, purple highlights, and nearly six feet tall. As you can imagine, I blend right in.
I manage to make it out of the office and head out to the lobby, but before I can reach the elevator, the doctor opens the door and runs out after me.
“Summit! Summit!” he says.
Argh!
“I’m sorry, Dr. Soren, I really need to get going,” I reply.
“I know, but I wanted to show you something I found online that I think you’ll find interesting,” he replies.
I seriously doubt that.
“There’s a child in Malaysia whose eyes are a shade of blue never before seen in the world. Here, I have a pic,” he says as he searches his phone.
“I’m sure it’s a great pic, but—”
“Here it is!” he says as he places the screen in front of me.
“He’s a wonder, isn’t he?” the doctor says.
“Yes, I will tell him that when we meet up in the monthly ‘sideshow freaks’ meeting,” I reply as I press the button, calling for the elevator.
“I’m sorry to keep asking, but I can’t help it. Are you sure you have no idea where your birth parents are? If you knew, it would be amazing to see them and find out how far back this genetic mutation goes.”
“Okay, Doc, I’ll be honest with you. I do know where my birth parents are. They live in a mansion on the Upper East Side. I decided to abandon the privileged life in exchange for life in a group home because I really love the view of the abandoned building across the street.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—yes, of course you don’t know where your parents…I’m sorry.”
“Doc, I think this is the last visit I will be making to your office,” I say as delicately as I can.
“Oh now, let’s not be hasty. You are a fascinating subject—”
“I am not a subject! I’m an orphan with freakish eyes, who no one wanted. I’m not here to intrigue you or spice up your life. If you need a distraction that badly, buy a sports car, write a novel, or train a seal. Just stop treating me like your own personal exhibit at Ripley’s Believe or Not! museum. I’m just your patient. Correction, I was your patient,” I inform him as I bang on the elevator button urgently.
“You’re upset! I’ve upset you!” he says.
“Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s just that—”
“Wait! You’re upset, and now your eyes are changing color right before my eyes!”
“Okay, Doc, we are done here,” I reply, signaling for him to walk away. He reluctantly heads back to his office and closes the door.
“Oh, and you’ll never be in my mouth again!” I shout at him.
What?
“I didn’t mean it like that. I meant—you know what I meant!” I shout into the hallway as the elevator opens.
“And Pepper’s dead! She committed suicide to get away from you!” I mumble. A picture flashes in my head of a goldfish writing her suicide note.
“Dear Dr. Soren,
Enough is enough.
Love,
Pepper.
I laugh at the thought as I enter the elevator.
“I’m sorry, this is the ‘no laughing’ ride. You’re going to have to wait for the next one if you insist on laughter and or any general sort of merriment,” someone says behind me. I turn around, thinking it was some guy being funny, but it isn’t just some guy. It’s some…god. A god. That’s the only way to describe Ashton Walker.
Ashton is by far the hottest guy in school. He moved here a few days ago and always has a harem of girls falling over themselves to be with him. He makes Liam Hemsworth look like Freddy Krueger. He’s tall and broad shouldered and h
as these soap opera “bedroom” brown eyes. He looks like he belongs on a movie set.
“You’re Ashton Walker,” I say before I can stop myself.
“And you’re Summit, right?”
“You know me?”
“You have purple eyes and purple hair—so, yes. I’ve seen you around in school,” he says.
“Oh…okay,” I reply awkwardly.
“I had to drop something off to one of the offices upstairs. What about you?” he says.
“I have teeth.”
What???
“Yeah, I can see that,” he says, not sure what else to say.
“I mean, dentist. I had an appointment,” I reply.
“How did it go?” he asks.
“You’re so hot!”
Kill me. Kill me. Right. Now.
“Um…thanks,” he says.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—it’s all just me talking crazy—side effects of whatever ‘Dr. Strange’ gave me,” I mumble, growing more and more mortified as time goes on.
“Oh, so you don’t think I’m hot?” he says, pretending to be offended.
“I—well…kind of. Maybe a little. Yes. You are very—yum. There. I said it, and now you and your friends can laugh at the whole thing on Monday. ‘Hey, guess who I ran into Saturday? That’s right—Summit Case. The purple eyed orphan girl. It was her fifteenth birthday, and guess what she did? She went to the dentist. Yes, that’s how lame she is.’
“Well, fine! Go right ahead and talk about me. But for the record, teeth are often overlooked by members of our age group. And I for one am proud to be here today. Why? Because I floss. Yeah, that’s right. I didn’t always, but my doc said—the point is I am a good flosser and a good person. So you and your ‘army of darkness’ can suck it.”
“Do I lead them?” he asks.
“What?”
“The army of darkness. Am I their leader or just one among the crowd?”
“You lead. You’re the leader.”
“So…I’m like Voldemort?”
“With a better body; yes.”
“Nice! So that would make you…?”
“Summit Case, the kid who didn’t get into Hogwarts.”
Why is the elevator taking so damn long to get to the lobby? Oh, wait! I know why: the world hates me.
“Listen, I think I should take you out,” he says.
“What?”
“I should take you out, if not for your birthday, then for your relentless pursuit of oral hygiene.”
“Are you being serious?” I ask.
“Everyone says they’ll floss but they never do. You, Summit, are a hero: a god among men. Your efforts and your pearly white teeth should be celebrated. I proposed having a statue made in your honor, but alas, budget cuts.
“So, what do you say? Can I take you out?” he says as the elevator doors open to the lobby. We walk out together. Well, he walks; I float out on a cloud. A big, corny, bright cloud.
“When do you want to…?”
“How about now—if you’re not busy,” he offers.
“Well…”
“It’s your birthday, so I guess you have plans already, right?”
“To be honest, the Queen of England did mention something about a tea in my honor, and Beyoncé rented a hall…but hey, it’s my damn birthday, and I should spend it the way I want to,” I say firmly as we walk out onto the clear, cold New York City street.
“Exactly! Stay right here, I’ll get my car,” he says as he checks his watch and runs down the block. I take out my cell and call my best friend, Milo Diaz. Milo and I became friends after he let me hide under a table in his family’s restaurant when I was running from the group counselor, Mrs. Coldwater. Milo spared me a three-hour lecture on “How we can work through our negative feelings with positive results.”
I told him that I would gladly give him any vital organ he wanted as a thank you for saving me. He told me that he needed to be rescued as well—his grandparents were in town from Mexico and they were grilling him about his love life. I think deep down they knew Milo was gay but just didn’t want to accept it. So, later that night, I pretended to be his girl; our friendship was founded on lies and trickery—hence its longevity.
“You won’t believe what just happened! You have to get down here, now!” I shout into the phone. Milo says something in Spanish to someone and tells me he’s on his way. The dentist’s office is only two blocks from the restaurant, so Milo gets to me in a matter of minutes. I watch him approach. He’s plump and slightly shorter than me. His curly dark hair and soft brown eyes make him the perfect teddy bear.
“Sunny, I was halfway through the best empanadas I’ve ever had. This better be good,” he warns.
“I thought you were on a diet?”
“What can I say? The carbs found me. Now I will grow up to be a sad, lonely, fat gay man who buys soup for one at Trader Joe’s. I have tried to fight it, but I am destined to be the Latino Nathan Lane.”
“You are not fat, for the millionth time. You are slightly…chubby.”
“‘Straight chubby’ equals ‘gay fat,’” he informs me.
“Milo, you have the dark, sexy Latin thing going on, and everyone knows it.”
“Well, my eyes do have a certain ‘come hither,’ I guess,” he says, smiling as he thickens up his accent.
“Can we get back to why I asked you to come?” I reply.
“Oh, yes! Sorry. What happened? Did Dr. Soren show you more pictures of random eyeballs? I swear he’s got a fetish. That’s like ‘eye’ porn or something.”
“Milo, Ashton Walker asked me out.”
“Sunny—okay, this calls for me to use your entire name. Summit Avery Case, did you drag my butt onto the cold and hostile street just to joke around?!”
“We’re standing in midtown, it’s not hostile,” I remind him.
“There are carbs everywhere!”
“Milo, I’m not kidding. I was in the elevator, and I ran into him and he asked me out. He went to go get his car.”
“You’re serious?”
“Yes!” I reply. I tell him exactly what happened. Once he sees that this is no joke, he makes eye contact and we immediately begin screaming like crazy and jumping around.
“Okay, okay. Let’s be mature about this. So the hottest guy in the world just asked you out,” he says, only to begin screaming again. Once we actually calm down, Milo asks when our date will be.
“Now. He’s coming back in a few minutes,” I reply.
“What?! That’s not enough time. I need to get you ready!”
“No time. Just look me over and tell me if I look okay.”
“You look great! I was gonna give this to you tonight, but you need this now. Here, it’s your birthday present. It will look so good on you,” he says, taking a small gold ring box out of his pocket. It contains a gold necklace with a small pendant of three orbs that circle in on themselves and form a triangle.
“I know you don’t like to celebrate your birthday. You won’t even let me get you a cake. I kind of get it. But I just want you to know that even if we’re not blood and your Spanish is painful to listen to, I am your family. That’s what the symbol means—family. Because like it or not, missy, you have one,” he says as he places the chain around my neck. We both start to get teary-eyed as we embrace each other.
“No! We cannot have puffy eyes. You are headed for the date of your life!” Milo says, glowing as he pulls away.
“Is this real? I mean, is there a bucket of pig blood waiting to fall on my head?” I ask, only half joking.
“No, ‘Carrie,’ you’re all clear,” Milo says.
I laugh and thank him as Ashton’s car pulls up. Milo and I say goodbye and I get into the car. Ashton says he wants to take me to an out-of-the-way spot where we can hang out. I agree and try to sit back and not make a big deal out of what has to be the best day of my life.
Twenty minutes later, we arrive at a small deserted side street in lower Manhattan
.
“Wow, this is romantic,” I tease.
“Sorry, I know it’s not glamorous, but it looks out at the water and I kind of like it,” he says as he pulls the car over and checks his watch.
“I am such a cheap date,” I joke. He laughs and turns towards me.
“There’s nothing cheap about you, Summit. That’s quite a name, by the way,” he says.
“Yeah, well, ‘Jane’ was taken, so…”
“Everyone in school talks about you. Some of them think that you’re a secret member of the X-Men and that your eyes have power,” he says.
“Yeah, I heard that one. If I am a member of X-Men, it sucks that they still make me pay to see the movies.”
“Is it hard not knowing where you come from?” he asks.
“Can we not talk about that? I mean, I don’t like to…”
“Oh, yeah. It’s cool.”
“Sorry, I just…I have so many questions about my past, but they won’t ever get answered. So, I just try and forget it.”
“What questions?”
“Well, big ones like ‘hey, why did my mom give me away like a pair of old shoes she no longer wanted?’ and small ones like ‘What time of day was I born?’” I confess.
“10:17 AM,” he says, looking at his watch again.
“Ha! Ha! Very funny. How would you know that?”
“Because that’s the time I had to wait for before I could do this,” Ashton says as he puts his hand under the car seat and brings out an engraved nine-inch blade. He lifts it high in the air and plunges it into my neck.
At first, the shock is strong and all-consuming; I don’t feel the pain of the attack. But soon, my body registers that for whatever reason, I have been stabbed and am bleeding to death. Blood gushes out of the side of my neck and flows down my body. I instinctively place both hands on my wound, hoping to stop the bleeding.
Ashton begins to chant. “The blood of one; the survival of many.” There are tears in his eyes as he repeats the phrase over and over again. I can feel life quickly draining from my body. I am colder than I have ever been before. My body is shaking, my head is spinning, and my skin is turning bluish gray. I am weak now; I can no longer keep my hand on the wound.
