Captivated: Part 1 of the Intended Series

by Abigail Grant

  CAPTIVATED

  Part 1 of the Intended Series

  By: Abigail Grant

  Copyright ⓒ Abigail Grant

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents, either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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  Book Description

  My name is Aella Lundon. I’ve always been a little different than everyone I ever met, until now.

  I’m eighteen years old and hoping to succeed in a small-town college, but it seems one of hell’s creatures has other plans for me.

  Not only am I being hunted by an actual demon, I’m also being protected by a mysterious masked man who seems determined to save me and my best friend from the evil things that lurk in the night.

  I can usually see what the future holds before it comes to pass, but I didn’t see any of this coming, especially him.

  Can I handle this new life, and the changes to come? Maybe, but it’ll take a lot of work...

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  6

  Chapter 2

  12

  Chapter 3

  17

  Chapter 4

  26

  Chapter 5

  34

  Chapter 6

  42

  Chapter 7

  49

  Chapter 8

  59

  Chapter 9

  69

  Chapter 10

  80

  Other Books By This Author

  86

  About This Author

  87

  Free Gift

  88

  Review This Book

  89

  Chapter 1

  I am cold and shaking in this small hideaway that mommy stuck me in. She told me bad people were here and I must not move. I have never seen daddy and her so upset before and I wish I could do something to make them smile. Loud crashing noises surround me, and I cover my ears, wanting to shut out the noise. I try my best to sit still even when my feet start to feel tingly.

  I don’t know how long it has been since I was left here but I slowly pull my hands down and am met with only silence. I am getting so tired, but I do not want to sleep because I know mommy will be back for me soon. I think I hear two women talking quietly, but I don’t recognize their voices and that scares me.

  I remember mommy telling me to be a brave girl, so I sit up and try my hardest not to shiver from the cold around me. The silver handle on my hideaway door starts to squeak and I freeze, not knowing who could be on the other side. Slowly, a little at a time, golden light begins pouring in as the small door is pulled away from me.

  ***

  I sit up fast in bed, pulling a muscle in the process. Something is buzzing nearby, and it takes me a moment to realize my cell phone is about to vibrate off the cherry-wood bedside table. The blast of light from my phone screen nearly blinds me but through squinting eyes, I see who is calling, AUNT MAGS. I release a relaxed breath and answer, “Hey, Aunt Mags. How do you always know when I have a bad dream?”

  “Because the day I adopted you, you were etched into my heart. I can feel it, like magic.”

  Her motherly tone instantly soothes me, as it has since I was six years old.

  “Well, I’m okay. I’m a big girl now, you know.”

  She scoffs, the noise extra loud through the phone speaker. “You are still my little girl, and don’t you ever forget that! Now, you push away all your worries and have a beautiful day, sweetie pie.”

  I cannot help but smile at her, even though she doesn’t see it from nearly 400 miles away.

  “I’ll do my best, Aunt Mags. Thanks for the call. You’re the best, you know that?”

  “Of course, I know that!” She laughs into my ear and I shake my head at her. “Ta ta, darling.”

  The call ends and I tuck my phone away under my fluffy pillow. With the palm of my hand, I rub away the throbbing ache in the back of my neck and study my surroundings. I take a steady breath, remembering that sad day from my dream, over twelve years ago. My tense muscles relax, and I am thankful I’m not that little girl anymore.

  I crawl out of my small twin bed and make my way out into the tiny kitchen attached to the even more petite living room. I love this cozy place, and even though the lack of space is not what I am used to, it feels so good to finally be off on my own, well, with my best friend Kassy by my side.

  The two of us hobbled away from our homes in San Francisco, driving off in Kassy’s beat-up purple Volkswagen Bug just a week ago, ready for our next big adventure. Kassy and I have been best friends since the day my adoptive mother enrolled me in her first-grade class when we were both only 6 years old.

  She bounced up to me in the school cafeteria with her long brown pigtails flopping wildly and asked if I’d like to draw pictures with her in her special artist book. From that day on, our moms could not break us apart with a jackhammer. She has been my other half and knows everything there is to know about me. Well, except for one secret that I promised my mother and father I would never tell anyone.

  My best friend is one of the main reasons I chose to apply for the Arts and Art History program at Southern Oregon University. She is obsessed with all things related to the visual arts

  and encouraged me years ago to discover my own artistic ability. We could have made it into several different art programs at other schools but there is another reason we ended up here.

  When I was just six years old, my parents were murdered in our beautiful San Francisco home. Before it happened, I remember the three of us moving around a lot. They were always looking over their shoulders like they were running from someone or something. I survived because, I guess, whoever killed them didn’t know I was also in the home. When she heard noises outside our house, my mother hid me in a small cabinet in her bedroom that she always told me was my special hideaway spot.

  I wish I knew the reason why they were so brutally murdered, but their case was never officially solved. It is as if death and gore just swept right through our home, leaving no helpful clues or reasoning behind. I still cannot erase the whole thing from my nightmares, and I have the same dream almost every night.

  There wasn’t much left in the home to connect me to my parent’s pasts or to help me figure out why someone would want to hurt them. All I did know was that my mom was born and raised in a place called Jacksonville, Oregon, and that I have no surviving relatives. I have always wished to learn more about my parents, but out of respect to my wonderful adoptive mother, I tried to enjoy where life had placed me and learned to love the family I do have.

  I graduated from high school this spring and decided to finally get some long-awaited answers. Luckily for me, I don’t have to do it all alone. Kassy has heard me talk about the few memories I have of my parents for as long as she has known me. She always told me that I need to find out all I can about them if just to settle my nightmares and get some closure.

  That is what has brought us here, to the little old town of Jacksonville, with a population of 2,800 residents. We were able to rent a small old pool house from the Henderson’s, a sweet elderly couple that welcomed the extra money. The pool is nice, but we are definitely going to have to put some work into our new home. Even though it is a huge adjustment from our big city lives, there is something about the town that makes me feel energized and gives me a euphoria of finally feelin
g as if I have found my true home.

  As I sit at the kitchen island with my glass of chocolate milk, my mind replays the awful nightmare for the thousandth time. I rub absently at my temple, wishing I could go without reliving the worst day of my life every time I fall asleep. Kassy comes out of her room, interrupting my early morning headache, wearing her fuzzy pink pajama bottoms and ‘Kiss Me, I’m Irish’ T-shirt, and looking like the walking dead.

  I sip at my drink. “Sleepwalking?” I ask, amused.

  “I heard you out here and thought I’d come to distract you from thinking about you-know-what.” she mumbles with her eyes still half-closed. She stretches with a big yawn and braces herself against the countertop to keep from falling to the tiled floor. Kassy has never been much of a morning person.

  I giggle at her messy pile of cocoa-brown hair and splashes of light freckles across her pale cheeks. She is the epitome of the sweet southern darling, even though her parents raised her in the city. Her father even has a strong southern drawl, having grown up in Texas. Kassy absolutely has her father’s looks but she is small like her mother, making her seem more unassuming than she is in reality.

  “So, do you want some company or not?” she barks at me, eyes still half-closed. I nod to her before she continues. “I guess I should get used to waking up early if I plan on making my 8

  AM Spanish class on Monday.” She claps her hands together in mock excitement.

  I roll my brown eyes at her. “Hey, I didn’t make you take Spanish. I blame you completely.”

  “I thought being fluent in a foreign language would make me all exotic.” She groans and flips her hair behind her shoulder. “Instead, it’s just going to make me tired, but not too tired for partying!”

  “Kass, are you really going to make me go to this College party tonight?” The thought of being thrown in the middle of a bunch of gyrating 18-year-olds makes my stomach do a nervous flip.

  “Of course, I am!”

  “But I really do think I may be coming down with something,” I say, making my voice come out sickly and throwing in a fake cough for good measure.

  “Aella Mae Lundon! Do not fake cough at me! We are going to this party together. I am not going to be stuck in this house for the rest of the year because we missed out on meeting new people.” She shoots the words at me with her hands planted on her fuzzy pajama hips. “This party is supposed to be the party for incoming freshmen to mingle and have fun before we have to submit ourselves into a studying death!” That’s Kassy, always with the dramatics.

  I hold my hands up in surrender, “Okay, okay! I know not to argue with you when you start throwing the middle name out.”

  She jumps up and down like a little kid who just got promised a lollipop. “Ooh! I am so excited! Let’s eat something so we can start getting ready!”

  “Kassy, it is 7 o’clock in the morning. I am going to have breakfast and then I am going to take a nap so I can get rid of these bags under my eyes. Then, after that, we can go shopping for the party and I will let you pick out my outfit.”

  She holds her hand out to me to shake, “Deal! I’ll get breakfast cooking while you go take a shower, cause you stink.” She winks at me and I throw my crumpled-up napkin at her on my way to the bathroom.

  I’m still shaking my head at her when I shut the bathroom door behind me, and my mind is painlessly plucked like the strings on a guitar. My body slips to the cool tiled floor and I hold my head in my hands, while my dark brown hair spills around my arms, surrounding me. Come on, not now. Like slow molasses, my body feels increasingly heavy and then turns light as a feather, as I separate from my consciousness and float into a dream-like state.

  Kassy and I are making our way through the freshmen party, listening to random conversations and boisterous laughter as we go. The people are free and wild as they have their first taste of adult life. The atmosphere in this room is so warm and equally chaotic. I am having a hard time focusing on one thing at a time in my vision state.

  The majority of the students are faceless, and my steps feel liquefied and slow. I turn to ask Kassy a question. Before I can get the unknown words out, I realize Kassy is gone from the spot she was standing just moments before. I scan the faceless crowd and find Kassy’s shoulder-length ponytail turning a corner to an upstairs bedroom.

  I move slowly after her up the stairs, wondering why she didn’t tell me where she was going. When I enter the bedroom, I see her standing outside on a balcony, leaning uncomfortably close to a strange man I have never seen before. His back is turned to me, but I can already tell he is older than us and overdressed in a suit and tie. His long, tan fingers reach up to brush a strand of hair away from Kassy’s blissful face. I cannot help the concern that washes over me at the sight. Kassy is not an overly forward girl and she is way too cozy with this complete stranger.

  I step around the guy to grab Kassy’s arm when the man spins and looks me dead in the eyes. I step back abruptly and stifle a scream when I see that he is not faceless like the others, but his eyes are completely black from corner to corner. My stomach drops and he literally hisses at me like a snake before jumping over the balcony edge and disappearing into the night.

  I open my eyes to the white tile floor pressed against my cheek. Grateful that Kassy likes a clean bathroom, I look around the room and realize I just had another vision. I have had a few of these visions each year since my parents died. It wasn’t until a week ago when we moved to Jacksonville, that they have been more frequent and so clear like this one was. I also have never felt such raw fear after a vision like this. Who was that black-eyed man?

  This is the big secret my parents told me I must always keep to myself. The one thing I hide from the people I love most. My mom and dad knew that someday I would be able to predict certain things but never speak of it. So, I never told Aunt Mags, and I haven’t even told Kassy, for fear I’d lose my best friend. But it looks like I may end up losing her to someone or something else anyway unless I can use my power to protect her.

  Chapter 2

  I cannot get that haunting vision out of my head. Kassy and I have spent the entire day perfecting our best cute, but casual looks for our first college party, although I’m having a hard time getting excited. Even though Kassy is not aware of my secret ability and the cause of my see-sawing emotions, I just know that she suspects I have been hiding something for years but doesn’t talk about it.

  Kassy has dressed me up in brand new, skin-tight jeans and a shiny blue blouse that sways around me in a playful manner. Against Kassy’s wishes, I also put on my usual black flats because, unlike her, I have always chosen comfort over style. Kassy is gussied up a little more in a knee-length black dress with a wide neck and half sleeves. She dons her fancy 4-inch black heels that I would absolutely fall and break my neck in.

  “Let’s go, girly! Ooh, this is going to be so fun!” Kassy yells from the front door, ready to take on the world.

  I rush after her, not so ready. “Yeah yeah, here I am,” I say as I lock the door behind me and breathe in the thick mountain town air.

  I climb into her little Bug, still a bit shaken from what the night may bring, and we drive the thirty minutes out of Jacksonville, to the university in Ashland.

  We pull up to the curb in front of a huge white house, just outside campus. An instant rush of déjà vu assails me as we make our way up the brick steps and into the beautiful home.

  My eyes never leave Kassy with each step we take through the carefree crowd.

  “Let’s go look for Liam!” I yell to her over the loud music, in the hopes that a second pair of eyes watching over Kassy will prevent my vision from happening.

  Liam is a new friend of ours that we met during freshman orientation the day after we got to town. He and Kassy hit it off instantly and have been talking almost daily ever since. I don’t

  know if I see romance on the horizon, but I definitely see a lifelong friendship forming fast for all three of us.

 
Kassy looks at me over her phone with a pouty lip poking out. “Liam just texted me that he can’t make it tonight! I guess he has the flu or something.” She shoves her phone in her purse, disappointed. “He said he’ll take us dancing next week to make up for it.”

  “Well, I guess I’ll just have to be your dance partner tonight then,” I say with a deep rumble in my voice as I bow at the waist and offer her my hand.

  She laughs loudly at my awful attempt at sounding manly and nearly chokes on her big gulp of water. A cute bodybuilder looking guy interrupts her outburst with a tap on her shoulder.

  “Hey, I uh, don’t know what’s so funny but I’d like to hear about it on the dance floor if you’ll have me.” He offers his hand to her and motions to the group of students dancing in the living room to the upbeat music.

  She grins from ear to ear and gives me a questioning look, so I just take her bag and wave my hand at her to go. I watch them run off and hit the dance floor. I must admit, his invitation far surpassed mine with that chiseled chin and crooked smile. I lean against a wall, and I can’t help but smile as my friend and her dance partner jump around and have a good time together.

  Starting to feel like a lonely lurker, I head up the stairs and decide to give myself a little tour of the large and exquisite home while Kassy is left in good hands. I turn a familiar corner at the top of the curved staircase and notice the moon-bathed balcony at the end of an elaborately decorated guest bedroom. There is a large bed against one wall and antique furniture placed between paintings on the other walls. The pictures are incredibly old paintings of sunny Oregon landscapes. I admire the thick brushstrokes that form the sun-soaked valleys as I make my way outside.

  On the balcony, a warm breeze hits my nose with the strong scent of a bonfire burning in a pit at the end of the large, manicured yard. I watch the partygoers on the lawn for a minute, just enjoying the laughter and loud drunken scene before me. It is actually a very entertaining sight.