I casually stroll past a nearby dumpster, pretending to be oblivious to the fact that I am being followed. I can smell them: two females, three males and neither of them worth a good fight. Before I turn around to introduce myself, one of them appears out of the nothingness, attacking me from the side with a high kick. I step to the left, and quickly catch her by the ankle and slam her to the ground. She lands with a hard thud, and I duck just in time to avoid the fist of a very angry young man with fiery red hair and a face full of freckles. I retaliate with a couple of hard punches to the abdomen and finish up with an uppercut before slamming him into a concrete wall.
Yeah, I know I’m playing rough, but these kids gotta learn how to successfully defend themselves against someone like me. The second female lunges from out of the nothingness, her wild dark hair a blur, and surprisingly she catches me off guard and sends me flying backwards, and she watches with satisfaction as I slam into the concrete wall, leaving a huge dent behind as I slide onto the ground. She is the leader of this rag tag group. I can tell by their movements that they follow her commands, and let me tell you, she is good. But not good enough.
She is headed toward me, her eyes ablaze with determination with a six inch silver blade in her hand. I am on my feet in less than an instant and go dematerialize at the last moment as she takes aim at me, and then I reappear behind her taking hold of her by the back of her neck and I slam her face first into the pavement. The dagger goes bouncing in the opposite direction as she hisses upon impact. Her followers stop in their tracks glancing at me and then at each other, unsure of what to do next. Their leader is struggling beneath my grip and I tighten my hold.
“I need your help,” I say to the group.
“Fuck you!” Their leader snarls between clenched teeth.
“No thanks,” I reply wryly.
“We do not side with the Houses!” One of her flunkies, a young male, blonde and blue eyed and nearly as tall as me declared proudly as if he’d been rehearsing for this moment his entire life.
“Yeah, well today you are otherwise…” I tighten my grip around their leader once more and she begins to gasp for air. “She dies.”
They share uneasy glances as they listen to her gasp and struggle for air. It was a long minute before the red haired boy clears his throat and asks, “What do you want?”
I release the girl and she quickly rolls away from me and struggles to get on her feet. The brunette that initiated their attack rushes to her aid while the blonde freeze frames to her and stands protectively over her. I glare at the red head.
“Have you heard of Kai and Demetrius?” I ask meeting his curious stare.
His eyes light up in awe and excitement. “Hell yeah, man! They’re fucking legends.”
I nod in agreement. “Are you aware of their daughter?”
He whistles. “Yeah man…we all have. Heard their compound was raided by you bastards of light…she didn’t make it.”
I frown. “I need you to spread the word the remaining compounds: I have their daughter. She is alive and well. Dawn lives.”
His eyes widen in disbelief while his comrades in arms glare at me. The surrounding tension thickens the atmosphere to suffocating proportions, but I remain steadfast.
“You lie!” The wild haired leader declared. She marches up to me, her dark eyes filled with unreleased fury. She reminds me of Dawn-well just a little. Her honey brown skin glistened underneath the heat drenched rays of the sun.
“I do not lie. I rescued her from the compound before the warriors returned to destroy it.”
“Why would a member from the House of Light want to save a Grey?” She demanded.
“I have my own reasons,” I shrug.
“If she lives, then why isn’t she with you?”
“Danger lurks in every corner on the hunt for her. It is safer to keep where she is for now.”
“I don’t believe you,” she says pointedly.
“And yet you are alive,” I challenge her. “I let you live for a reason, which should be an indicator to you that I come in good faith.”
She frowns and turns to face her loyal followers who stare at her with blank expressions.
“And if we do this for you, when will we get to see her?” She demands, her arms folded and eyes narrowed.
“In a few days. What is your name?”
“Kenya. And the blonde is Joseph, the redhead is Shad, that is Melanie…” She goes on to introduce the members of her small group before I mention that my name is Aiden. We don’t exchange hands or any other customary formality that humans engage in. I leave them with their word that they would inform the other compounds of my message. They disappear with the false confidence that I don’t know where to find them.
I know where all of the Greys hide, which is why I was chosen to pursue Dawn-but that is another story.
I disappear through a tunnel of white light that I create by opening my palms. I have other business to attend to, and his name is Bane.
Chapter 12 Dawn
I wish I owned a car, but a girl has to do what a girl has to do. I place the pouch that Siren gave me around my neck and tuck it underneath my hoodie, and try not to focus on the growing irritation that the memory of that slutty Siren provoked. Tying my braids high above my head, I pack my backpack with the essentials: wallet with ID, ATM card, and electronic key card I will need for the safe house; two sets of outfits; an extra pair of shoes, my tablet, and of course chargers to my electronic devices. I keep a nine inch blade strapped to my ankle, and the 9 that smuggled from my compound tucked on my waist. Biscuit will have to stay here in Aiden’s house, because I simply can’t travel with an injured dog. I love Biscuit. He is the only connection I have left to Granny and the rest of the members of my compound, and I know Aiden will keep him safe. Swinging my backpack over my shoulder, I take one last glance at what was supposed to be my safe haven, I freeze frame out the door and crash face first into the invisible field that Aiden obviously set up to not only to keep enemies out but me in.
“This is some bullshit!” I snap, rubbing my now aching and possibly swelling face.
I run full speed around the parameter, using all of my abilities in search of an opening and after zig zagging around in circles for a little over twenty minutes before my vision zeros in on a tiny snare near the mailbox. Apparently, my inhuman speed creates enough friction when I freeze frame by, that weakens the shield. A smile of victory threatens to creep across my face when I take off around the two story home, enjoying the scenery blur by me as I become nothing but motion. I lose count as to how many times I circle the house, but after each lap I increase my speed.
By the time I slow down to normal “human speeds” I glance at the three foot ditch I created around the house. I have all but obliterated Aiden’s lawn, and I know when he returns he will have more than one reason to be pissed off. I trot to the mailbox and the small tear is now wide enough for me to step through with ease. I don’t even bother to look back as I take my first step to freedom onto the street.
The sun is high in the sky as I casually stroll in search of the nearest bus stop. I have to get to a Grey Hound station before night falls, and I am certain the driver will point me in the right direction. Aiden’s neighbors are pretty much all the same: two car garages with varying sizes of play apparatuses, with kiddie pools that line the front yards; two story homes painted in neutral hues plaster the block along with the matching manicured lawns and picket fencing. Aidan chose the perfect neighborhood to reside under the radar in. The sound of my black Nikes hitting the pavement keeps me focused on the task at hand. For the first time in my entire life I am actually on my own. Before the raid, during this time of day, my father would be providing me some one on one practice, proving to me just how unprepared I am to go out on the missions he would send the rest of the members of the compound on. After that, Granny would stuff me with favorite meals, encouraging me by softening my father’s tough words and reminding me that it won’t be
long before I am called to step into my destiny. It is just unfortunate that none of us could have known how that day would end, and as I quicken my pace fighting back tears and painful memories, I notice a bus sign at the corner.
Unsure of what to do and how much the fare is, I thank the heavens that I have a few singles in my wallet, and within ten minutes I am on the bus with precise directions on how to get to Union Station. I take a seat next to an older woman with a head full of snow white hair and a youthful face. She smiles at me warmly. Her tanned skin is littered with spots and moles from the wear and tear of time. She is wrapped in a thick scarf over an over coat, despite the fact that it has to be around the 80 degree mark. Her long white hair hangs loosely to her waist, and as she inches closer to the window, her hazel eyes sparkle with something that indicates “other worldly”.
I have not exactly honed the skill in determining the caste of the “other worldly” entities unless they display themselves in an act of aggression like the Berserker or the Warriors of Light. Everything I know is strictly by the book minus the few encounters I have had before and after the raids. I eye her suspiciously. The humans have yet to realize there is war going on, and from what I have gathered, both sides of the war have a mutual understanding to never engage in front of human eyes, but I still need to know who and what she is.
“Friend or foe?” I whisper, with an eyebrow raised.
Her smile widens. “It depends…Grey.”
I examine her closely. The House of Light are capable of disguising their identities, giving the appearance of being human with an almost 100% accuracy. The House of Dark possess this ability too, however, the dark energy that surrounds them is palpable. I assume this woman could belong to one of the many classes of supernatural that I have yet to encounter, but I am certain that I will know who and what she is by the time one of us gets off the bus.
“I am going to ask you again,” I whisper slowly. “Friend or foe?”
She chuckles, her eyes lit with amusement which pisses me off.
“I am neither young Grey….” She holds my gaze and suddenly, it is as if I am pulled into another dimension although I can still feel the movement of the bus.
It is then that I know who and what she is. She pulls me deep into the vision and before I know it, I am surrounded by darkness again, like how it is in my dreams. Absolute darkness. And then I see her, only it isn’t the old woman in front of me, but a younger version of herself. Dark raven hair replaced the snow white radiance that was once before me; flawless, blemish free tanned skin molded on a shapely body. She is dancing. Swaying to her own rhythm despite the deafening silence that threatens to choke me. She smiles at me and beckons for me to follow her. I don’t want to, but I feel myself inch closer towards her. She has something to tell me-something important. I can sense it. She leads me deeper into the darkness until I can sense the presence of at least a dozen others who surround me. And then I know.
The bus comes to a screeching halt and I am thrust out of the vision. The old woman quickly stands and pushes her way to pass me, and before heading to the opened door, she says to me, “Lead us.” She spins around and exits the bus before I can fully digest what I have just experienced.
One of the Dark King’s concubines just paid me a visit. I have the sneaking suspicion that the instant I set foot out of Aiden’s house, I was being followed. There is no turning back now. I have to make it to the safe house.
It is almost eight o'clock by the time I make it to Downtown Union Station in the worst possible area of Los Angeles. Homelessness runs rampant through these parts, which makes me wonder if it is best that humans are not entrusted to rule themselves when they feel no shame about perpetrating a society that cares so little about the well being of one another. I opt to travel via Amtrak instead of Greyhound. At least there is more room for me to breathe and maintain low profile on the train than on the sardine-like confines of the bus.
I am utterly exhausted. Public transportation is the most inconvenient means of travel, and after hours of bumping into rude strangers, standing in the hot sun, losing my way not once or twice but at least three times before being pointed in the right direction, I finally made it to old world Mexican themed street with Spanish walkways ignited with the bright coloring of oranges and yellows, filled with signs of future events featuring respected Latin painters and whatnot. Clenching the strap of my back pack tighter, I take a seat in the waiting area. Thankfully, I have the entire section to myself. I survey my surroundings, my stomach taking note of all of the food options that is currently at my disposal but I make a mental note to eat on the train.
The place isn’t too packed. Most of the people who appear to be traveling somewhere look like it is more for business than pleasure. I expand my senses and pick up the vibes of more “other worldly” entities, and my guard goes up. Siren said that by wearing her pouch with whatever the hell is in it, I will be invisible to those who wish to harm me. So, how was it possible for one of the Dark King’s concubines to seek me out? Ah, but the obvious answer is the old woman did not wish to harm me at all. She only wanted to demand that I lead them, which again is another message from the King.
I pull my IPhone from my pocket and scroll through my contacts, which aren’t many. Most of them are members of my compound. I send out a mass text to everyone, hoping that I eventually receive some sort of reply.
Is anyone there?
I wait for a few minutes to see if someone would reply and just as I expected, my phone does not buzz with any text notifications. Disappointment doesn’t even begin to cover it. My only hope is to make it to the safe house and pray that others who managed to survive have the same goal in mind. At this point there is nothing else for me to do. Thirty minutes later, my train number is being called over the speaker, and I move quickly (well, quick enough for human eyes) to the section of the station where my train is boarding. Ten minutes later, I am in the Deli section of the train where I order myself a huge turkey sub with ranch flavored Doritos, a fruit salad bowl, some oreos, and a large Pepsi. My mother would hit the roof if she’d seen what I am about to fill my belly with, but oh well she isn’t here. With treasures in hand, I walk cautiously through each car, settling in an area that is supposed to seat four people. It is a two by two seating arrangement with a narrow table at its center. The seating is plush and offers the opportunity to recline, and I more than happily slide in all the way next to the window so that I can enjoy the scenery. As the train begins to take off on its route, I immediately tear into my turkey sub, taking huge bites. I will need every ounce of energy I can muster because who knows what else is out there that wants me dead?
I stuff myself beyond maximum capacity and recline into the seat and watch the landscape change from city life to rural. The train speeds past acres of fields, and suddenly I feel more alive than ever. My skin prickles with a strange sensation and my adrenaline levels kick into overdrive as we travel through the darkness. And that is when it hits me: there are Warriors of Light on this train, disguised as human. I take a deep breath. They are everywhere. But as long as I wear the pouch they should not be able to detect my presence. A part of me wants to rush off of this train at the next stop, but the logical side of me tells me to stay. As long as we are surrounded by humans, they will not engage with me.
The next stop is San Juan Capistrano, and surprisingly, there are a lot of people who apparently like to travel at night. I detect the presence of more “other worldly” entities mixed with humans boarding, and I discreetly pat my 9 to comfort myself in the fact that I am not going down without a fight. I watch suspiciously as dozens of “people” board the train, and one in particular stands out. The word “warrior” courses through his veins, and all eyes turn to him as he hands over his ticket to one of the ticket collectors, and squeezes his big, muscled body onto the train. Beautiful honey brown skin, and hazel green eyes look around as if he is supposed to meet someone here and now on this train and then our eyes meet. For a
second, my heart stops beating and I have to remind myself to breathe. This is no regular human. This is a Berserker trying to disguise himself as human…and damn it all to hell he is gorgeous! If I have to die at his hand tonight so be it.
I sit up straight and brace myself as he approaches me. Standing at nearly seven feet, dressed in all black camouflage, no weapons in sight (although they are hidden somewhere on his body), he takes a seat without my permission. We stare at each other a long while. I study every inch of him from the tattoo sleeve that travels from his wrists to beyond his shoulders, his long dreads that blanket his pectorals, his chiseled jaw line and those large hands that I am sure can kill without any effort on his part. Even in his relaxed state it isn’t hard to tell that this entity kills with a high level of enjoyment.
“May I help you?” I finally ask after what seems like an eternity of us just staring at each other.
He chuckles. “The question is, may I help you?”
“I think you are a bit confused,” I reply slowly and deliberately. “You took a seat across from me and it is quite apparent that you want something. What is it?”
He studies me once more which doesn’t make me feel any more comfortable. “You are in danger,” he says finally.
I sigh. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“I was sent to help you.” He says with confidence.
“A Berserker,” I say with disbelief.
He raises a thick, bushy eyebrow. “I would like to believe that I am a little more than that.”
“Well considering that I recently almost died by the hand of one of the members of your kind, you should be able to understand my skepticism.”
“He had to be a rogue,” he says cracking his knuckles. “All of us were ordered to if anything stand as your guard.”
In the Light of Darkness Page 8
