Hope (The Descendant Trilogy Book 2)

by Theresa M. Jones

  I will pray for that day until I die, and hopefully even after I have passed on. My sweet Rosalyn passed last night. I have failed her. Perhaps I can save others, even when I could not save my own flesh and blood.

  Sir Frederik, Knight of God, member of The Order, Leader of the Council

  A tear slid down my cheek, I felt a heaviness in my chest. What if that had been me? What if they didn’t bind the children and I had to fight to find a way to save Sam, and then failed. My heart tore for this man, a man who lived so long ago, but managed to find a way to save me and David and every current member of the Order now.

  “What is it?”

  “I can’t imagine what it must have been like, back then.” I answered him as I wiped the tear away.

  He nodded, he understood. I didn’t need to explain the pain it would cause me if I lost Sam. He has known since the first day he met me.

  “Did anyone keep looking for a way? A way other than binding the Power?”

  “Not that I am aware of. I know that Rick was never in favor of binding the children, you were the only one he did. He said he couldn’t do it again after you.” I nodded again. Rick had told me this much. “John Coleman, a man who lived for over two centuries, a great man that taught me many things before he died, told me that he believed there would be a way. He was the first one who commissioned the Compound. He wanted a safe haven for the children, but as the Compound grew, it became a safe haven for all Order Members, and children were no longer thought of. Everyone just continued to do things as they had been done before.”

  I thought of when I first entered the Compound, the heaviness of the Power that surrounded me as I walked in. It almost took my breath away just thinking of the weight of that power. I couldn’t imagine a child going through it. Though Samantha was okay there.

  “Is Sam the only child that has been there?”

  “I don’t think so. I think that when it was first built, other children were allowed. But once they were bound, they could no longer stay, so they took away the practice of keeping them there, only to have to send them away at their sixth birthdays.”

  The wheels in my head were turning. Could it be that simple? Could the answer have been here all along, just beneath their noses? Imagine an Order member who was raised to hone their skills, instead of waiting until adulthood. Could the Compound be the answer to his prayers, to Sir Frederik’s prayers? And to mine…

  “I found it!” he shouted, shocking me so much that I jumped. He hopped up and ran to me, then squatted down next to me and held his book open. “Read this.”

  I took the large, heavy, leather bound book onto my lap after setting mine aside.

  Born to Alexander and Maria Zengler were two children. Sophia Marie, born 05 May 1940 and Edward Douglas, born 15 June 1943.

  Sophia Marie Zengler- descended from Verefidel, Arabella, Temperence, Idadurant.

  Edward Douglas Zengler- Powerless.

  Born to George and Sophia Kneuper was one child. Allison Ann, born 21 March 1964.

  Allison Ann Kneuper- descended from Verefidel, Arabella, Temperence, Idadurant, Beatrice, Esperance.

  Born to Lee and Allison Stevens was one child. Allison Lee, born 05 March 1989.

  Allison Lee Stevens- descended from Verefidel, Arabella, Temperence, Idadurant, Beatrice, Esperance.

  Allison Ann Kneuper, my mother’s maiden name. Sophia was her mother. I stared down at the sheet with my history written so clearly. It felt surreal, so strange to see their names on this old piece of paper.

  “So they must have known all along that I only descended from these six.” Why the charade? “Why go along with the hope that I might be the one? It’s all written here.”

  “You can tell that some of these were added later. It looks like it must have been updated recently, perhaps they hadn’t known who all you descended from until they came back and looked, and hoped they might track it back to all nine.”

  I shook my head. Yes, it was obvious that at least the last two had been added recently. They must have tracked my grandfather’s lineage back to account for the last two. But still…it was clear that I don’t descend from all nine. How could anyone? How can the Prophecy ever come true? How could we ever win?

  Chapter 9

  Home

  The trip home was smooth, no delays. We came back the way we went, except that I felt different. I knew more. They say that knowledge is Power and I felt Powerful, even more so than usual. That day in the library, I followed my lineage back all the way to the Primitus. I learned the names of every person in my family, every person that I shared blood with. I read of each of my ancestors, and their ancestors, and it was enlightening.

  I read account after account of sightings of angels, from centuries and millenniums ago. I read of dreams and sightings when people believed they had seen him, the angel in my dreams. I still dreamt of him, every night that we stayed at the island. Though he no longer spoke to me, it was only that first night that he spoke to me. All of the other reams, after that first night, were of him and the Primitus and the future we needed to avoid.

  I couldn’t help but wonder if I would stop having them now that we were home, back at the Compound. If the dreams of him and the Primitus would be over and I would never have to wonder what I would see when I closed my eyes. I wondered if it was just that island, or if something was seriously wrong with me.

  I walked up to the entrance and remembered when I first saw it. I was still in awe at the majesty of it all. The doors were so tall and wide with carvings and designs that stretched on and on, and they were breathtaking. I could imagine Sharon being up there, with the other artists, carving and painting away at it, making it beautiful. Knowing how quickly they could work, I really did wonder how long it had taken them to make. A week? Two?

  The thought of Sharon sent a pang of longing to my heart. I stepped forward, ready and anxious to be home. I felt the familiar swirl of my Power release, as it dyed the tips of my hair purple and left me surrounded in a purple embrace of silk. I felt the immensity envelope me, the heaviness of the Power enclosed within these walls. I welcomed it. It meant safety. It meant love.

  It meant home.

  As soon as I was in, I didn’t notice the familiar paintings that adorned the walls, or the gorgeous staircase that went up and forked out to two sides, or even the height and intensity of beauty the Compound contained. The only thing I noticed was her. She ran to me and jumped into my arms, and I swear for a minute the world stopped turning. Time itself stopped ticking in motion.

  She was there with me, in my arms. Her golden locks tickled my face as she snuggled her head into my neck. I could smell her scent; it was unique, sweet and fresh. She wrapped her soft arms around my neck, pulling me closer, as my arms hugged her body to my chest.

  “Oh my Sammy, I missed you so much.”

  I felt a tear slide down my cheek. I might be getting softer, instead of stronger. I rarely cried, unless I was angry or frustrated, but within a week, I had shed more tears than I had in the last year all together, and they were only shed for emotional things. My daughter returned to my arms, a man that failed to save his daughter…

  “I missed you too, Mom.” She said after she kissed my cheek.

  Finally, I looked up and saw Sharon standing on the side, waiting patiently, an excited smile lit up her already stunning face. I set Sam back down, but she stayed down for less than a minute, as David came up and pulled her into his own arms.

  I reached for Sharon, and she pulled me close, her flowing skirt wrapped around my legs at the momentum. She felt so thin at that moment. It was such a different experience than holding my mother, who was so soft and warm, or David who was so big and strong. She was so frail. I almost laughed at the thought. Sharon is Powerful, though she wasn’t a warrior as I was; she was still strong and not really frail in any way.

  She pulled away and looked me in the eyes, “I missed you!” Simple words, but they held a ton of meaning. I was her family,
her only family now. We were best friends, sisters.

  Rick was behind her, and he too pulled me close. There was a time I wished he was my father, and then a time when I hated him for leaving. Now I loved him and truly considered him my father. I could depend on him in ways any girl could depend on her father. He supported me and cared for me. And I loved him for it. When he pulled me into his strong embrace, I could feel his Power wrap around me, a safety net. Home.

  Before he pulled away, he kissed my forehead. He didn’t need to speak the words, I already knew he missed me, and he knew I missed him back.

  Instead I asked him, “How were things while we were gone?”

  He knew that I didn’t mean the everyday goings on of compound life. I wanted to know about The Rising. I have had more than my fair share of time off, so to speak. I allowed myself to forget the world, forget the Rising, forget it all so that I could enjoy my life with my husband for at least some time.

  “We can talk about everything later on. Come with me, we have prepared a feast for you.” He stole David’s spot next to me, and placed his hand on my back to lead me away. We went up the grand stairs, and finally I had the chance to admire the beauty of this place. Being gone for only one week may not seem like a lot, especially if you were on a gorgeous island, but it made me truly appreciate the grandeur of everything here.

  Home.

  Already I was accustomed to the Power overload here, my body now instinctually welcomed it. I felt stronger, more sure of everything. Life was perfect…if I could continue to forget the impending Apocalypse.

  ***Lilith***

  Again I felt sick. I tried to ignore it, for months now I had tried to ignore it all. The dizziness, the nausea, the overwhelming urge to kill everything, or maybe it was just a heightened annoyance to everything. But I couldn’t any longer. Everything hurt everywhere. Even my fucking boobs hurt.

  To admit weakness is to admit defeat, and I would never admit defeat. Nevertheless, I still had to determine what was wrong with me. I was Powerful. I was strong. I was the Leader of the fucking Rising. I could not get sick. It was basically blasphemy.

  I could hear the idiot called Magnus outside my door before he even knocked, his heartbeat pounding in fear. Pound, pound, pound. He still didn’t know why I had called for him, he was a nobody. He had so little use for us, and what we were doing. But he was smart, at least in some things.

  Enter. I commanded him from within his own mind. He stopped walking forward, perhaps in shock. I didn’t care. He better hurry up, I was never known for my patience, especially not now, when I felt like shit all the time.

  I could hear him inhale deeply, holding it in before releasing it again. As if you could calm nerves that easily. It was always mind over matter, not the other way around.

  The door opened slowly, and he walked in. He was short and stocky, not the norm for our kind. Light colored hair and dark chocolate eyes set deep in his face. A strong jaw made his face appear squared. He was ugly. Ugly and short and fat. Well…fattish. But he didn’t have to be handsome to tell me what I needed to know.

  He shut the door behind him, and bowed low for five seconds before he straightened himself and walked up to my desk. I sifted through his thoughts quickly. He was loyal, but ashamed he wasn’t stronger. He wished he could have descended from Lucifer, like me. I rolled my eyes.

  “I need to ask you some questions.”

  “Anything, my Leader.” He said after he nodded.

  “Can a Rising Member become ill?”

  His eyes opened wide. Of course he had never heard of such a thing, no one has. Our power keeps us strong, healthy and well. But before he spoke, he thought. I listened in to them. Has anyone ever been sick? Can it be possible? Could the Power weaken? Could it ever be possible, in any way? He went on and on, question after question in his mind, name after name of Rising Members who have died before us. He knew better than to speak without fully thinking through the answer.

  Finally he decided, “I have never heard of any way that anyone with Power could fall ill.”

  It was a wise and practical answer. He didn’t say, no it isn’t possible, but only that he hadn’t heard of it. I suppressed my sigh. I needed more than that.

  “What if it did happen? How could it happen, theoretically speaking, of course?”

  I saw a single drop of sweat slide down his face. He tried to hide his fear from me, though he should know it would never be possible. How could it happen? It couldn’t. But what if it did…? He kept thinking and thinking, going around in circles like a damn merry-go-round.

  “Perhaps if an Order Member had done something to them?” He didn’t make it a statement. He didn’t know the answers I needed, yet everyone continuously said he knew so much. Go to Magnus, they say. Magnus knows so much. He remembers so much. He can figure things out. Worthless lies…

  “What could an Order Member do to a Rising Member that would make them appear sick?” This time my annoyance showed through clearly. It was an idiotic statement; they could do nothing of the sort.

  “Well, they say that the Power from the angels is acidic to us. That their Power can burn us, like what happened when...” he stopped then, knowing that he shouldn’t dare speak Damien’s name in my office. We all knew what happened to our fallen soldiers that day. I saw it. I felt it. The Power did burn us. But I hadn’t been around an Order Member since then. Except for the ones I killed, and they never touched me with their Power.

  “Yes. It can kill us. But make one of us sick? How could that happen?”

  “Perhaps if I knew more about this sickness I could better answer your questions. Is it like a cold? Fever? Headaches? Is it lesions on the skin? Something more serious like…seizures or vomiting?”

  That’s when I realized that it was not a hypothetical question, though he still doesn’t know it was me that was having the issues. I internally calmed myself.

  “From what I understand, it is dizziness, nausea, irritability, inability to focus, and pains in weird places.”

  “Pain where?”

  I almost didn’t catch the sigh before it escaped my lips. I felt vulnerable telling this man these things. I couldn’t tell him where, not all the places anyway. “In the stomach and chest area.”

  His face changed, it was calculating, concentrating, focused. I listened in again, as he went through name after name of medical conditions that would cause these symptoms. He stopped finally on one word. A single word, but it held so much meaning. It was impossible. How could it be true? Damien had been dead for months now and there was no one else, except…

  And again, the thought drew me up short. Could it be possible? What did it mean?

  Then understanding shadowed his face. He knew. He knew what it meant. But he didn’t know who could have done it. Should I allow him to live? Could he help me? I heard the word in his thoughts.

  That single fuckin’ word…

  ***Allison***

  Dinner was truly a feast. In just a few weeks it would be Thanksgiving, but I doubted that the meal then would even compare to this one. We had everything that I loved. Pastas, both warm and cool pasta salads. Warm flaky breads and biscuits. All kinds of meats, ham and beef filets and even lamb. Potatoes, corn, squash, broccoli. There was so much, I could barely choose what to eat. But everyone was fed and happy by the end of the night.

  Now that David and I were married, he moved into our quarters. We didn’t move to his since Sam and I both wanted to stay close to Sharon, who still lived next door. And even though the room was the same, it felt different now that all of David’s items were brought in.

  After Samantha fell asleep in my arms, I finally placed her in bed to sleep. And I too slept well that night, wrapped in David’s loving embrace, back home, safe and well.

  And I finally didn’t dream. There were no Rising members haunting me. There were no angels gifting away Power. There was no chaos due to the end of the world. There was nothing. Not even a good dream, but I was okay w
ith it. I needed a peaceful sleep.

  The next morning David and I went with Rick to meet with the Council. We followed him to a part of the Compound that I had only been in once before, when I eavesdropped on the conversation the Council had about me. That was when I found out they thought I was the Descendent. They had been in Rick’s office, talking about me, or rather arguing about me. It never made a difference though because I was never who they had hoped for.

  We continued walking, and even passed by Rick’s office that time though. Rarely does someone other than a Council Member get to see the Council’s Chambers, and it made me feel important, even though I wasn’t actually The Descendant. The hallway ended in front of me with a door, large and beautiful, like everything else there. This door had only one angel carved into it; it was an angel who looked like Michael from my dreams. He was standing tall and strong, with his wings spread out wide reaching out more than seven feet wide, and he held sword in his hand. Below his feet was a serpent bleeding to death. The image looked just slightly off, as the angel was split down the middle by the gap in the doors.

  We walked through the door and I stopped. A scent of jasmine and honeysuckle wafted through me. It was intoxicating. The smell of the most Powerful people in the world, all huddled together in this room, and their aromas all blended together.

  The room was circular, with an oval table in the middle. Some books lined the shelves on the walls, and there was a desk in the far left corner with a computer. Other than that, there were a few couches on the sides and a lamp, but nothing more.

  The men stood, to welcome us, and Rick motioned for us to go forward.

  “Welcome to the Council’s Meeting.”

  When we walked in and David shut the door, the men sat. I knew some of them. Nicholas and Christopher had fought with us when we met with and destroyed Damien. Rick was at the head. The other men I didn’t know.

  David led me forward and said, “Council, this is Allison Ste…” then paused and corrected himself, as a smile grew across his face. “Allison Donnelly.” He finished with his smile growing even more. I smiled too. I liked my new name. “And you all know who I am.”