by Dawn White
Wingless and Damned
Book One in
The Damned Series
By
Dawn White
Published by
Nevermore Press
Cincinnati, OH 45224. 2013
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Text Copyright © 2013 Dawn White
All rights reserved
This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious and are products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual events, or locales or persons, living or dead are entirely coincidental.
Edited by: Dawn White
Cover by: Brandy Dull
Formatting by: Dawn White
For Nevermore Press
All rights reserved.
Acknowledgments
To my wonderful husband who has believed in me with every endeavor I have ever set out to accomplish, love you.
To my beautiful daughters who made it quite interesting to write some pivotal love scenes. Love you, ladies!
Can’t forget to say thank you so much to my best friend Jessica White who happens to be married to my great brother-in-law John White! Couldn‘t have done it without you!
To the best daddy in the world, please don’t read this book. I love you!
Last but certainly not least, Claudy Conn, my favorite author, who taught me the ins and outs on everything publishing!
PrologueEleusis West Attica Greece 1700 BC
As Aison fly’s as fast as he can, he still can’t get close enough to see if the visions he saw on Mt. Olympus were real. Landing with a loud thud on the thick grey stones, Aison tries to push his way through the crowd who is chanting Hades, which has gathered around a wooden funeral pyre. As the final obstacle keeping him from viewing the pyre is removed, he collapses to his knees in his devastated state at the sight of his beloved Kora lying limp. When he reaches the fire, it is quickly distinguished by his desperation as he grasps her in his arms and weeps into her thick curly ebony hair. When Aison searches her honey eyes for any sign of life, he is lost in the clouded version they once were. Feeling the limpness of her once golden skin, he lays her gently down on the wood, when the red and blue fire rages up around him his anger is already at the highest point that can be reached. Aison steps through the consuming fire as it furies towards him it terrifies the thrilled crowd into shriller chants. When he lays his eyes on the deafening crowd he turns around to get one final look at Kora only to be met by fire engulfing her already charred body, when he returns his gaze to the crowd his eyes are the color of the rivers of blood he so decrees to them in his fury.
“You have soiled my Beloved to appease a god that would have you rotting in the darkest pits of the underworld! I will make it my immortal mission to cause each and everyone one of you the anguish you have caused me! I will make as many evil beasts as I can and destroy you! The blood of your innocent shall cleanse my immortal soul!”
Forces unseen begin to pull him skyward as he glares at the witnesses to the carnage of his once most beloved. Zeus warned me of falling in love with a mortal! When he gets his wits to him, he sets out on his journey to make as many monstrosities he can possibly make. All noble traits and empathy he once possessed for the mortals are continuously consumed by the hatred. Becoming a monster of immense proportions only to turn his hatred into a sire of five other originals to own the deepest darkest corners of this hell we call earth.
1810 Adirondacks Whiteface mountain range Upstate New York
The blood the overwhelming smell of crimson liquid seeming to pour out of every puncture wound the wolves caused the youngster. “Augustin you need to lay still and do as I say. Your body was ravaged by the pack of wolves that attacked you. I am going to put these cold compresses on you while I send for your father.” Nodding my head at Augustin’s older sister, Milicent. She runs off at a swift pace to get her father who happens to be one of the nomadic Neuri tribe leaders. In Millicent’s absence, I push my pine root mixture into the worse of his injuries in his calf. As the medicine seeps into his system, he starts to regain his composure. I look up as I hear a thunderous breaking of the bark of near pine trees being brushed off, as Harland and Milicent bust into the clearing, pine needles from the forest floor sweep over Augustin from their abrupt stop. Harland rushes to his son’s side, takes his small hand into his own, and with tears in his dark brown eyes says, “He is, but seven years old he must survive this onslaught, I can’t lose my youngest. Is there any way he will survive this Ciarra?”
“I have put a paste of medicine in his wound I believe he will make it but it will be touch and go, he will need to be brought to my shelter in order for me to watch over him this night, we will know his fate in the morning.”
Harland lightly enfolds Augustin into his strong broad arms, carefully walking him through the forest of spruce, pine and many broad-leafed trees surrounding the base of the mountain range.
As I hold the leather open for Harland to place the ailing boy next to the fire without obstacle I clear my throat as I rub the side of my head knowing the information I’m about to say to him is going to cause both of us more stress then previously.
“Harland, I am new to this the only reason I am already the medicine woman is because our original medicine woman died of fever last winter, I was still training and still considered her Apprentice, under her supervision I would have no reservation believing your boy would survive. All I can say is I’m going to do everything in my power to save your youngest child. Make sure you also pray to the tribal ancestors (spirit guides)”
Harland exits my shelter in a haste wanting to get this night over with as quickly as possible.
During the hours of darkness, I replaced Augustin’s dressings and kept a fever threatening to take him at bay. When the early morning hours of dawn streak the darkened sky, I feel the windy rush of the leather flap being pushed aside only to have Harland standing in my makeshift home. Rubbing my eyes I motion to Augustin, who is resting peacefully next to the burning fire.
Harland takes his damaged son into his strong arms and rocks him slowly back and forth. Feeling elated by Augustin surviving such a brutal attack at my hands a mere apprentice.
Chapter One
My name is Ciarra and as medicine woman for the Neuri tribe, I work with my tribal ancestors or spirit guides and nature to keep the balance and peace within our tribe. So far, my job hasn’t been easy.
As I stand at the head of the fire, the tribe leader and members congregate around the fire pit in the center of the camp seeking the safety they feel in the warmth emanating from fire. My mind and body have grown weary from worrying over what could happen as a result of this night’s upcoming events. Five of our innocents were taken today by the dreaded Strigoi. These blood-stealing monsters take our innocents from their resting places every two centuries, or so our legends tell us!
Seeking advice about the dilemma, we have found ourselves in, a quick council with my spirit guides reminded me there are always unknown consequences when one twists a spell of this magnitude. My spirit guides have provided a spell for me to twist to ensure the survival of the Neuri Tribe. As I talk with them, my heart is racing knowing this simple transformation spell, if done wrong, will have dire consequences. The only way to beat the Strigoi is to fight fang with fang so to speak.
Twelve
of the strongest men in the tribe have volunteered to be ones be spelled as werewolves. I begin twisting what used to be thought of as a curse into a simple transformation spell. When I am done, no one will recognize them. However, to be honest, I have no idea how to change them back. I watch nervously as the beautiful, naked men of the Neuri tribe stand shoulder to shoulder as they begin to painfully transform into what seems to be mindless beasts. As the Neuri, men writhe in pain and agony, my spirit guides start chanting in an unknown language, calming the men. My expressive arm movements while talking to the men seem to draw them in closer to hear me. I give the men instructions to hunt the Strigoi down. "These monsters will come for your family sooner than we think." The women and children run for their makeshift homes as the formerly human beasts start out for the unforgiving dark woods. Once they are in the darkness of the woods, I hear thunderous roars and realize it is the newly turned beasts communicating with each other.
Finding a spell to transform them back is now my highest priority.
The spirits from beyond advise me, “A spell has not yet been written to transform them back.”
Confusion transforms into terror, as I am now fully aware of the consequences of my meddling with nature. At this point, it is far too late to do anything about it now. The damage is done.
Kimi, the Neuri tribe leader’s mate steps into the light of the fire as I am gathering my thoughts. Her distended belly shows she is to birth her child any day now. All the women of the tribe follow and question her regarding the true severity of the circumstances we find ourselves. When I interrupt, cutting the women's chatter off to explain to the tribal women I really do not know, as of yet, what the beasts transformation back to men will entail or even how long it will last, Kimi is clearly terror-stricken. Trying to be as gentle as possible, I lay Kimi to the ground motioning for the tribal women to help her. Following my suggestion, the women in the tribe take her back to her home, to her resting place so she may sleep off the terror paralyzing her and surrounding the rest of the camp. I gather my herbs and mixing bowls and make my way to my makeshift home as well.
* * * *
As soon as my head hits my bed, one of my spirit guides tells me to run. Death is coming if I do not. Gathering my meager belongings, I slowly try to sneak out of the camp undetected. As soon as I pass the tree line, I see movement out of the corner of my eye. The motion is so fast I think I am imagining it.
"Run," another of my spirit guides urges me. Not my imagination then.
I run toward camp yelling, “They are coming! The Strigoi are coming!” No sooner are the words are out of my mouth than I feel a prickling alarm inch down my spine. In a terrifying whoosh, my feet are lifted from the ground. I cannot help but shriek as I get farther and farther from the ground. Tears sting my eyes as I am flown over the trees at a frightening speed. I start trying to break free of my captor’s strong embrace.
A male voice, in a strange foreign accent, says, “Stop moving or I will drop you! I am not going to hurt you!”
I am lulled into submission by his words.
I do not know what has come over me. I can still think, “Stop” and shriek but the words fail to reach my lips. What is wrong with me?
My spirit guide tells me, “The Strigoi are very old and very powerful. They can make you do anything they wish just by suggesting it to you.”
At the realization I’m not going anywhere, I stop fighting. I have no choice but to show no resistance. This is met with a softer hold as the male continues to carry me over the dark trees.
On the ground, I hear the Neuri men howling in the distance. I have no idea what has occurred at the camp. I do hope the screams I heard were of the tribe’s people getting away. I am very concerned for my people.
Where is he taking me? Just as the thought crosses my mind, we start to descend into a small clearing. With my feet now firmly on the ground, I scan the horizon and can spot nothing but trees as far as I can see. Just as my legs are about to try to carry me away—
“Come with me.”
To my surprise, I follow. Why am I walking to my own demise with a smile on my face? The creature places his hand on a big iron door that looks heavier than any I have ever encountered.
Following him into a dark cave, we descend into a damp, musty smelling hell. I feel a glorious rush of power coming from deeper in the cavern. The farther along we go, the less cave-like it becomes. Yet again, I feel a power radiating from somewhere deep in front of us. It seems to be calling out to me. All that amazing power should be within my reach. As I start rushing forward, he grabs my arm and turns me to face him. I look into his eyes, his frighteningly surreal red eyes.
“If you will listen and do as I say, you might just walk out of here alive!”
I nod in agreement, feeling as though I am in a trance. Can I pinch myself to wake up? As soon as the thought crosses my mind, he turns me around. Seemingly, out of nowhere, two large wooden doors appear in front of us. As if by magic, they open with no assistance from either of us.
Grasping myself in a tight hug, I see the contents of this new room. There are big fires in all corners and at least five Strigoi sitting around in a group. My gaze tries to take in every grotesque detail of these men-like creatures. As a group they all seem to have the same scary red eyes, their skin seems to be translucent showing blue veins crisscrossing their snarling faces, their teeth are sharp and jut out of blood stained lips. With the exception of my captor, the Strigoi look malnourished, mere skin, bone, and evil! They are the most malicious monsters I swear I have ever seen! They seem to be consumed by the hatred of their creator. The most intimidating thing about them is the fact they tower over me. The ten feet tall cave ceiling has them crouching when they walk.
When my captor grabs my arm, I flinch thinking he will hurt me. He pulls me closer to the group of the Strigoi. They seem to be engrossed in some kind of live action taking place in front of them. Pulled closer, I notice they are watching two beautiful winged Fae. I thought they were only a myth. I never imagined they could be real. As I snap out of my inner musings, I see the lovely Fae are in chains that appear to be burning their dainty wrists. It has to be very painful. “What are they doing to them?”
His answer is a wave of his hand and it all becomes clear to me. They are the Strigoi’s slaves, compelled to do as their master’s wish. These two unfortunate female Fae are making love to each other.
I have to do something but I am certainly no hero.
Chapter Two
My captor pulls on my arm when he notices I have paused. Beside myself, I try to understand the severity of my fate and that of the Faes'. My legs try to keep up with him as he brings me through a narrow, dimly lit hallway to a door at the end of the passageway. He opens the door and motions for me to take a seat at a heavy wooden table.
I sit and look around for any means of escape. Left with the stark reality of my current dilemma, I finally look at him and ask, “What am I here for? Why did you take me?”
He sits down across the table from me and looks me in the eyes with his horrific red glare. Seemingly casual and polite, he says, “You are here to finish what you started. You started a war that eventually will consume Strigoi and man beast alike, and no one will be safe. You think you were helping your people but it has been prophesized that this will not end well—millions will die.”
Feeling as if I have been slapped across the face, I gather my courage from deep inside.
“You are disgusting! You prey on the weak and take what you want from anyone who gets in your way. Now you say millions will die because I twisted a spell to help my tribe. I must ask why do you care?”
His belligerent reply is not one I expected. “We take what we need to survive. I don’t kill or maim I just eat my fill but then release. As you witnessed, the five men in the other room don’t have the same reservations I myself like to abide by. We are the oldest of the old but do not underestimate us. We will make millions more before our time will ev
er come to an end. You have started a war! We will forever be immortal enemies to the end of days! You must do as I say for it is the only way our world will ever have a chance against what evil we created! In addition, before you start judging me, you should know who I am. My name is Aison. I do not know why I am discussing this with the likes of you. You are here for another reason.”
Still in the dark, I try to wrap my mind around everything he just said. He is surprisingly attractive to look at with his red god-like lips, his facial hair only adds to the strength in his ruggedly handsome strong jaw line, a perfectly straight nose and golden shoulder length hair. Wrapping my mind around the fact this man, no monster, is actually quite caring as evidenced by the anger in his voice at what I created. “What is this you are saying about me being here for a reason? What reason could you possibly have for taking me? Where are the people of my village?”
He reaches out and touches my arm gently as if I were made of porcelain. I guess to him, I am made of the finest china and can shatter at the slightest amount of pressure. No sooner than I start to understand this, he stands in front of me, grabs me by the arm, and says, “I am sorry but I must. In order to keep you safe after the ceremony, you will need to be mine.”
The moment the last word left his mouth, I felt a sharp then amazingly pleasurable pressure on my neck. I do not even have an inclination to pull away! My body melts into Aison as his lips and tongue take what he needs. I feel my inner fire igniting, imagining what his lips and tongue would feel like and taste like on other more sensitive areas. Just as my mind is wandering to these delicious things, he stops and looks at me.
“You need to drink a small amount of my blood in order to finish this.”
At that moment, I would have agreed to anything this beautiful man asked me, and I open my mouth. Instead cutting his wrist or finger, he bites his tongue and conquers my mouth with his. I am shocked as I kiss his delightful mouth but then remember why I am here and who he is. I pull away as fast as possible.
