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Uniquely Unwelcome (The Shadow World, #1)

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by Brandy Nacole




  Uniquely Unwelcome

  By: Brandy Nacole

  Copyright © 2012 by Brandy Nacole

  http://www.brandynacolesbooks.com

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Prologue

  My skin crawls as the screams echo down the hall. My steps quicken as I pace back and forth on the stone-tiled floor. The rock walls echo every sound made. The screams traveling down the hall seem never-ending.

  Doubt creeps back into my mind as I hear another terrified cry come from the boy down the hall. Yet another helpless soul we have entrapped. After the last unsuccessful attempts of our experiment and with each innocent life we take, my doubts increase.

  She keeps telling me to give it time, that we will succeed but I know for her it’s all about the power. She wouldn’t give up, even if I did. Once the door opened for her, she stepped through without ever taking a glance back. I’ve taken several glances back, questioning myself every day.

  As I turn to make another circle of strides, I look up into a newly-hung mirror. I know she is the one who places these mirrors around our temporary home, knowing I despise them. They reveal nothing to me but what I already know, I’m damned.

  My sorry excuse of a life leaves me alone and bitter. I slam my fist into the mirror, cracking it so my image is distorted, just like my soul. Ever since my true love died, leaving me here, all alone and young forever, I have felt nothing but bitterness toward this world.

  I look at my distorted figure, remembering why I set out on this quest. I know that what we are doing is wrong, but in the end, the world will be a better place for everyone. That is, if that wretched old woman gets everything right, finally piecing the whole puzzle together.

  I notice the screams have stopped. The poor boy has either become a new being, or has passed from this life. Fear plagues me as I debate whether or not to make the journey down the hall. I want to know if it was successful but fear that we have failed once again.

  Instead, I stall. I take a minute to apologize to my family, asking them to forgive me for what I am doing. I ask them to understand why I am doing this. I know my love is watching me, wondering how I could have turned into such a monster. In time, she will understand.

  I turn to walk down the corridor but stop. The sound of running footsteps is barely audible. Whoever is coming is light and graceful. That’s when I see her. A smile dances across her face. Never would I have imagined that she would run. I always imagined her gliding on air, never in a hurry. She always demands the earth to move around her. She is not one to toy with, nor is she one to command. Seeing this display of joy as she runs to me gives me hope that she has succeeded.

  “What is it? Is everything okay?” She always smiles and says we are getting closer after each death. This may be the same scenario as before.

  She slows her pace, walking to me with pride and purpose. Her hips swing from side to side as her tight dress moves with her body. Why she wears such foolish garb is beyond me. It’s not like we are at a dinner party.

  She lays her hands on my forearms. Her smile widens. “It is done.”

  Chapter One

  I tug on the ropes around my wrists again but I know it’s useless. I have been pulling on these ropes for hours. My wrists throb with pain. I can feel blood trickling down my hand and dripping off my fingertips.

  “Let’s see how she likes this.”

  My eyes go wide as the Vampire, Irving, unravels a whip. I want to scream, beg, and plead for them to show some mercy. I don’t. Even though my mouth isn’t gagged, I know better than to make a sound. It will only fuel their animalistic actions.

  Ravyn laughs maliciously. Her blue eyes twinkle with a vile hatred as Irving advances on me. I glare at Ravyn. Earlier, when Irving had ordered Ravyn to propel wind up against me until I couldn’t breathe, she had laughed the whole time. Even when Irving had ordered her to back off, she kept pushing. She was enjoying the pain they were causing me way too much. I wonder what the Covenant thinks about her activities.

  Ravyn’s laugh is infectious and the crowd behind her starts laughing too. Irving steps forward, twirling his whip at his side. As he stares at me with those pure black eyes, my heart beat picks up. I don’t show my fear but I feel it.

  As Irving brings the whip up, I close my eyes and brace for the impact. The whip makes a crackling sound and just before it makes contact with my skin I jerk in my seat. I grab at the seat in front of me as I try to catch my breath. I hate reliving those horrid nightmares. It was bad enough living through them the first time.

  Once I’ve calmed down a bit, I notice the bus isn’t moving. As I look up to see where we are, I notice a man slowly making his way to the back of the bus. I recognize him as the bus driver. He doesn’t wear a uniform but instead regular street clothes. A blue button-down shirt stretches over his pudgy belly, probably created from years of sitting on a bus for a living. The golden nameplate pinned to his blue shirt gives him away as the driver.

  As the driver makes his way back to me, I try shaking off the memory of my dream. I shudder as chills break out over my body, sending a light tingle over my scars. The driver looks uneasily toward the front where everyone else is seated. Some Witches had been sitting in the back of the bus when I sat down, but they’d all made their way to the front. Honestly, I can’t say I didn’t expect it.

  The bus driver approaches cautiously. He’s acting like I’m a hostile person. “Excuse me ma’am, I believe this is your stop.”

  I look out the window. The bus is stopped out front of Pen’s Market. I shake my head, “I’m getting off at Red Tree Street.”

  “I’m sorry miss but this is the only stop in town. We had to cut back on stops for economic reasons.” The man’s voice is shaky. This is the reaction I always receive from humans. They get a vibe off me that I’m not normal. I’m not.

  My appearance is no different from any human girl, mostly. My face is framed with long black hair. I look like your average hundred and twenty pound girl but my eyes give me away. Unlike most of the other Shadows, whose eyes are a natural color, mine are pearly silver, outlined by darker silver. My pupils are dark purple, which really sets the silver off. The problem of course is that it’s not normal.

  I sigh. I don’t want to walk through my hometown just yet. I want to go home, gather my courage, and t
hen set out into the town. My presence isn’t going to be appreciated.

  As I stand and gather my belongings, the driver hurries back toward the front. A few humans and other Shadows get off before me. When I step off the bus my stomach drops. Never did I think I would be back here. When I left home last year, I had the intentions of never coming back.

  One of the Shadows who had been on the bus, a Witch, is talking with another Witch in front of the market. Their hushed conversation and stares tell me they’re talking about me. I ignore them knowing they will be the first of many.

  I groan as I realize I have a three-mile walk to my house. Heaving my backpack, I start off toward home. It’s a warm day in Virginia for the beginning of September.

  I keep my head high as I walk down the streets. Humans just look the other way, afraid of conflict and attention. But the Shadows, they glare. A shifter jumps back out of my way, afraid of my touch. It doesn’t stop him from glaring at me.

  I want to use my speed to hurry up and get home. But the streets are too crowded with humans. Instead, I walk at a normal human pace. Once I round the corner to my street, I stop.

  A few Witches are out in their yards but once they sense me they hurry inside. I never understood why they agreed to let my family live on their block if they were afraid of me.

  When I see my house, I gasp. All the windows and doors are boarded up and there is a sign that says no trespassing on the door. I don’t know who would have done this since the house was paid for and claimed. I know my sister Addie didn’t do this. She had always hoped I would eventually come back home. When she left to go study at the Covenant, she made sure that I knew the house would always be open.

  I walk up the creaking steps and take a glance around. I can’t see past the boards to look through the windows. The spare key is still under the funky-looking ceramic cats that my grandmother loved. Now if Addie had done this after I left, wouldn’t she have taken the key?

  I rip off the board covering the door and use the key to get in. As the door creaks open it seems like years of dust sweeps out the door as fresh air fills the house.

  Everything in the house seems untouched, proof from all the dust that covers everything. I slowly walk into the house, opening my senses to make sure no one lurks in the shadows or rooms upstairs. All is quiet. I can’t sense any other presence in the house.

  I relax a bit, finally feeling the comfort of my house releasing the tension in my shoulders. I place my backpack on the floor and start checking things out. I flick the light switch by the door. Ta-da, there’s power. Checking the faucets in the kitchen, I find I still have water too. So someone has to be paying the utility bills.

  While I’m in the kitchen I look through the cabinets and refrigerator. Everything’s empty. I make a mental note of what I need. Obviously, food is number one on that list. The refrigerator holds nothing but a box of baking soda.

  The incessant flashing of the message light on the phone has me growling with dread. When I hit the message button the automated voice tells me there’s one hundred and fifty two messages. Wow. I guess people didn’t take the hint.

  Listening to the first message, I smile. “Racquel I know you aren’t going to be home for a while but when you get home please call me. I’m going to be checking in every so often to see if you’re home. If not I’ll leave a message and try again later. I love you and I hope you find what you’re looking for.” The phone beeps off to the next message. It’s Addie again, like she promised. I hit the message button to turn it off. I’ll listen to the rest later once I’ve checked the house.

  I find everything in the living room as it always was. An Afghan is draped across the back of the couch. Pictures of various gods are hung on the walls. In this house, we didn’t just thank one god. We had to thank four gods, unlike most Shadow houses, who only had one god to remember.

  The Shadow beings used to take their worship of the gods very seriously. Now, it seems only the Witches are still devoted to their god: Hecate. I never cared for any of it. I guess since I didn’t have an actual god to thank, I felt no need to worship or thank any of them.

  I walk on upstairs, stopping to look at the pictures of my family. My grandmother had carefully hung these pictures in order of our family tree. It started with my great-grandfather and great-grandmother. They’re the ones that started our crazy family.

  In the Shadow World, we are not supposed to mix races. We are supposed to stay true to our kind when it comes to love. We can mingle as friends but that is it. Well, my great-grandparents changed that. She was a Shape-shifter and he was a Lycan.

  When they first proclaimed their love, everyone was in shock. Once they united in marriage, they were banned from their clans. They were happy, though, and didn’t let discrimination deter them from living together.

  Once they had their daughter—my grandmother—things changed. It should have been impossible for them to have a child because Shadows are poisonous to one another. My great-grandmothers’ saliva should have killed my great-grandfather but it didn’t. My guess is the blood ceremony canceled the affect. Usually the only Shadows that perform a blood ceremony are the Vampires. My great-grandparents had no reason to do a blood ceremony, but they did anyway.

  My grandmother was a half-and-half, which had never happened before. When my great-grandparents saw how their beautiful bundle of joy was being treated, they isolated themselves. The things that she went through were harsh. A lot like my own story.

  They started regretting their decision to have a child, especially as my grandmother grew older. She wanted love like anyone else but who would have her? People in general don’t like accepting something that shouldn’t exist. But there was one who finally came around: my grandfather.

  I glance over to the picture of my grandparents. They look so happy together. My grandmother had told me it was love at first sight. Of course she had to go off and fall in love with a Vampire. When they were united in marriage and performed a blood ceremony, the Shadows were in an uproar. They tried having them killed for their betrayal, but for whatever reason, the Council left them alone.

  After being left alone for several years, my grandmother decided she wanted a child. There was just one small glitch. My grandfather couldn’t have children. When Hates created the walking dead, the curse he placed upon them allowed their bodies to go unchanged so they could live forever. I don’t know much about biology but I know a dead body can’t produce new life.

  This didn’t stop my grandmother though. She set out on a quest to find a way to conceive a child. My grandmother wanted nothing more than a family. After all her searching she found a Witch who would help her. She never would tell me who that Witch was. All she said was that she brought her miracle to life.

  That had agitated me to no end. I eventually started doing my own research, with the reluctant assistance of my sister. We found that the only spell that would allow for such a change was done through black magic. A human soul would have to be taken in exchange for a twenty-four hour window given to the Vampire. It allowed that Vampire’s heart to beat and for the reproductive organs to start working. The genes of the Vampire would still be intact. The only thing the spell did was unlock his frozen body.

  As it turns out my grandparents were lucky in that twenty-four hour window. My father was brought into this world six months later. Shadow babies are not carried as long as human babies. We have an advanced growth rate compared to humans.

  My grandparents had decided not to keep my father in isolation. They thought if he was brought up in a community, that community would get used to him and accept him. But that didn’t happen.

  He went through the same ridicule that my grandmother had. He was still shunned throughout the community. No matter where my grandparents moved, hatred always followed. The streets were never acceptable enough for someone so different.

  Nevertheless, my mother came around eventually. She befriended my dad even though her parents forbade her. At first the
y were just friends but that friendship grew into love, though I think for my father it was love from the beginning. When they married it brought another mix into the family, the Witch line.

  Soon after their marriage, trouble started. My mother wanted a child with my father. She already had a daughter from a one-night fling with some other male Witch that meant nothing to her. She loved Addie but she wanted a child with the man she loved. But my father was reluctant. He tried making my mother see his point of view and told her Addie was already a daughter to him.

  She wasn’t having it. So my grandmother shared the knowledge of the Witch that had helped her. My mother knew the Witch she spoke of and went to pay her a visit. The same happened with my parents as it did with my grandparents. My mothers’ dream came true, and I was born: four Shadow essences met, for the first time ever.

  Unfortunately, my mothers’ time with me was short-lived. My birth killed her two days later. The Covenant had tried everything they could to save her but it wasn’t enough. They had said that her pregnancy was just too much for her body. When you combine so many different monsters into one body it takes its toll. So in retrospect, I killed my mother.

  My father fell into despair and took his own life. He couldn’t live in a world where the only person that ever accepted him—besides his parents—was no longer around. So I grew up with my grandparents in this small community. They moved here after my fathers’ death. The Witches had agreed to let them stay here since Addie was still under their care too.

  As I look up at my parents’ picture, my heart twists with longing. I hated my father for what he did but now I understand how he felt. I know how it is to not have anyone to talk to or accept you. I wanted nothing more in this world than to have a friend. I didn’t need love or written acceptance from everyone in the world. I just wanted one person who could say, “I’m here for you.”

  I know I have my sister for that, but it’s not the same. Addie has always accepted me, but of course she does, we were raised together. My father had insisted on keeping us together before his death. The Covenant had advised against it but couldn’t do anything legally since her real father was nowhere to be found.

 

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