K: The Awakening (The Shadow Chronicles Book 1)

by K. R. Fajardo

  He headed across the garden toward the lights on the other side. The inn was a modest stone building, colorfully painted, and decorated with flower boxes on the balconies overseeing the garden. It looked like something straight out of the fairy tales he had been told as a child, the lights and smells emanating from within calling him inside.

  He took a deep breath and walked in. He was certain that it was going to be a battle to get a room, it usually was. No one wanted “The Enforcer” in their place of business, not that he blamed them, since his presence didn’t exactly draw in a crowd.

  The downstairs area served as a restaurant which was completely empty at the moment, the curfew most likely being to blame. Along one side of the restaurant was a bar, and behind it a mirrored wall lined from one end to other with colorful bottles filled with a variety of alcohol laced formulas for the Full-blood elite and straight alcohol for the Terrians.

  There, busily wiping down the surface of the bar, completely oblivious to his presence, stood a girl. She was a petite young thing, so small in stature that she was forced to continuously scoot a short stool down the length of the bar in order to reach the other side of its already shiny surface. She had an olive complexion and long, dark hair, which hung loosely down to her waist. And in stark contrast to the nearly black locks, she wore a bright red form fitting blouse, which complemented each angle and curve of her young body perfectly.

  All in all she was one of the most beautiful creatures he had ever laid his eyes on, and as he made his way across the room toward the counter, she looked up, made eye contact with him, and smiled.

  “How can I help you this evening?” The innocence in her voice and the smile on her face led him to believe she was fairly young, and that she had no idea who he was.

  “I need a room for the night, preferably one with a balcony looking over the garden,” he replied, approaching the bar. His piercing gaze locked on her soft, pale gray eyes.

  “Sure, but how did you make it here without getting caught by the patrols? They are always in that garden watching for Full-bloods out past curfew.” She gave him a quick look over, before locking her gaze back with his.

  “I have my ways,” he muttered. Somehow this tiny young girl was beginning to make him feel slightly uncomfortable. No one ever kept eye contact with him more than a moment, yet this girl had not taken her eyes off him since she spotted him.

  She smiled. “I see. It’s going to be like that, huh? Well then just give me a moment and I will go get the log book.” And with a dance like spin she turned and walked through a door at the other end of the bar. The Enforcer stood watching after her before returning his attention back to the room.

  It was packed from one end to the other with worn out tables topped with small, flower filled vases. On the far end, close to the entrance, he spotted a wooden staircase leading up to a landing. There, with a clear view of the restaurant and bar below, many brightly colored doors lined the wall. The entire room was accentuated nicely by the soft light casting down from a gigantic wagon wheel chandelier. It was definitely very rustic compared to what he was used to, however he found himself feeling unusually comfortable in these strange surroundings.

  “Here we go,” a voice called from the back room, but it wasn’t that of the young girl, it was a man’s voice. A dark haired, stoutly-built Full-blood, who appeared to have stopped aging in his mid-twenties, walked into the room and laid the log book on the bar before glancing up. When he did, his eyes landed on the Enforcer in a look that left no doubt that he did recognize him. All the color left his face immediately and the Enforcer was certain he would have bolted from the room if he thought it would have done him any good.

  The Enforcer turned his attention back to the bar. “So you have a room for me?”

  The man, whose hair was darker than the girl’s and in somewhat of a mess, looked up at him unsurely as he answered, “No, sir. I’m sorry, we are full for the night.”

  About that same time the young girl appeared through the doorway at the other end of the bar. “Dad, do you need—” She stopped midsentence as her eyes fell upon her father and the expression on his face, then looking up at the Enforcer with uncertainty, she moved a few steps closer to her father. “Dad?”

  “Go back into the house, I will be there in a minute,” the father demanded, keeping his eyes locked on him. Sensing something was wrong, the young girl hesitated, staring back and forth between the two of them. The man, infuriated by her disobedience, turned and yelled at her angrily, “I said go!” She glanced one more time up at the Enforcer then bolted from the room.

  The Enforcer waited for the girl to leave, before he continued, “The young lady there told me there was a room. And based on the looks of things, business isn’t entirely booming.”

  The man began to slide the log book off the bar. Aggravated by his audacity, the Enforcer slammed his hand down on top of the book and held it in place. “What do you say if we go and knock on some of those doors and see if anyone answers them?”

  Before the man could answer, another voice called from the back room. “Sam, is everything okay? Maya seemed worried when she came back inside, but she couldn’t tell me what was …” A woman, the spitting image of her daughter, came into the room and froze. Her eyes widened as her gaze fell upon him looming over her husband. She too had the same dark hair as the other two, however her facial resemblance to her daughter was uncanny.

  “Woman, go back inside and take care of Maya, I have this under control,” Sam snapped at his wife.

  The Enforcer smirked at the false confidence in his voice. “Do you now?” he asked as he turned his attention to the wife. “Sam here was just going to take me to a room. Weren’t you, Sam?” It was a struggle to keep his temper under control, as he held down the book and glared back at Sam. “Or do I need to go find Maya to help me out?”

  Sam’s face contorted in rage. “Don’t you dare go near my daughter! If you do I’ll …”

  As he spoke, Sam moved to come out on the other end of the bar when his wife grabbed him by the arm. “Sam, let me handle it.” She turned to the Enforcer whose eyes were still locked on Sam. “We will get you a room. I only ask that you sign the log book, for as you know it is the law.” She paused, contemplating whether or not she wanted to finish, but need triumphed over fear as she decided to continue, “It will be sixty dinar for the night.”

  He took a deep breath in an attempt to relax as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the money. “Here,” he snapped, slamming it onto the bar.

  Undaunted by his display, she handed him a pen and turned the book around for him to sign. He made his mark in the book then closed it, pushing it back toward her. Carefully she reached under the bar, hesitating briefly when he narrowed his eyes at the gesture, then slowly pulled her hand back out, revealing a room key.

  “It’s the second to last room on the end, the one with the red door,” she stated, holding out the key.

  Snatching it from her hand, he turned around and headed up the stairs. “Thank you for the hospitality,” he barked sarcastically.

  He could hear Sam and his wife arguing behind him as he ascended the stairs, but it didn’t matter. In the end he had what he wanted, like always. He found the door at the end of the hall, inserted the key, and stepped inside.

  The room was small and he wasn’t entirely sure the bed wasn’t going to be too little. Oh well, he thought, I probably wasn’t going to get any sleep anyway. Being a Full-blood he didn’t require as much sleep as the Terrians did, and what little he did get was often haunted by the ghosts of those he had arrested or killed. With what had happened in the street earlier, on top of the other events of the day, there was little doubt in his mind that sleep would likely evade him tonight.

  He instead opted to go out onto the balcony and was delighted to find that the view of the garden was amazing. He could see the entire square from up here, but the best part was the view was the fountain. The valiant soldier, still frozen
in his heroic charge, stood tall above the rest of the garden while the soft glow of the solar lights danced off the waves of water cascading into the pool below him. Behind the fountain, in the distance, the Enforcer could just barely make out the outline of another larger garden that he had not seen while he was on the ground. It too was dotted with many different kinds of flowers, however their colors were impossible to make out in the darkness of the night.

  The garden was completely void of people, making the view all the more pleasing; even the patrols had disappeared, presumably to clean up the mess he had made down the street. He propped his elbows on the railing and allowed the tension in his body to finally relax. This was one of the reasons he had stayed behind; there were no views like this in the capital. Everything there was focused on the Shadows, plaques and statues scattered the streets paying homage to them and their “greater good”. A statue, like the one here, would have long been destroyed, the Shadows claiming it was encouraging people to take up arms and fight instead of bowing down and behaving.

  After several peaceful hours the solar lights in the fountain turned off, having used up the last of their stored day light. The Enforcer, denied his view, begrudgingly reentered the room. As he walked in, he caught a glimpse of himself in a full-length mirror in the corner. Why Maya had not run from the room at the first sight of him he didn’t know. Even if she didn’t recognize who he was, the sight of him must have been shocking.

  He was covered in dirt and spattered with the blood of his victims from the battle in the street earlier. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the sleeve on both his jacket and shirt were ripped open where the knife had made the gash, and both were completely soaked in his own blood. Sighing, he studied himself, trying to figure out what to do since he had no other clothes with him. He could shower and wash them out as best he could, but it was so late they would never dry before morning.

  Resigning himself to leave it as it was until he made it back to Tower, he pulled off his jacket and gloves, and tossed them on a nearby chair just as a knock sounded on the door. He glanced across the room to a clock next to the bed; three in the morning. Must be the patrols, he thought, making his way to the door, they probably have questions. He pulled open the door, but to his surprise it wasn’t the patrols that were waiting for him, it was Maya, and in her arms she held a pile of towels and some clothing.

  The two of them stood staring at each other dumbfounded, until Maya finally spoke, “I saw the light on under the door and thought you might want to get cleaned up.”

  He didn’t know what to say. Rarely did he speak to anyone unless he was arresting or interrogating them, so he lacked the social skills necessary to carry on a “normal” conversation. Instead he remained silent, looking her over and trying to imagine why she would come up at this hour to bring him towels, especially after what happened with her father earlier. Then a thought suddenly flashed through his mind, This is a trick. She is luring me out so that her father can jump me while I am distracted.

  Maya, seeming hurt by his silence, turned to leave. “I’m sorry if I disturbed you, I will go.”

  “No, wait,” he said suddenly, though he was unsure of why. What are you doing? Shut up and let her go, the voice in his mind chastised. Against his better judgment, he ignored it. “It is me that should apologize; I was actually trying to figure out what to do about this mess.” He paused as he peered around the doorframe and down the hall; he didn’t sense anyone else’s presence.

  “Are you alone?” He asked, returning his attention to the young lady in front of him. She had changed into her sleeping attire and now stood before him barefoot, dressed in a white laced sleeping gown, with her hair pulled loosely back into a ponytail. But she could have been standing in front of him in filthy rags with dirty hair and she would still look as beautiful to him as she did right in this moment. For as physically attractive as she was, he didn’t find it nearly as alluring as the innocence and kindness he saw in those pale gray eyes.

  “Yes,” she answered softly, “my parents are sleeping.”

  He shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts as he reached out to take the towels from her and then looked questioningly at the clothes she had in her hands.

  Maya knew immediately what he was thinking and giggled. “They were my grandfather’s. He was a large man, not your height of course, but I thought you could use them to sleep in.” She paused, looking him over slowly. “If you want, I can wash and dry yours tonight. They will be ready in the morning.”

  “Don’t you plan on sleeping tonight?” He couldn’t help but wonder why she would go through so much trouble to help him. “I don’t suppose your father knows you are up here?”

  Maya looked taken aback by the question about her father, but quickly regained her passive smile as she answered, “I don’t sleep much, that’s why I run the inn and the bar most evenings. Well, I used to until the curfew went into place, now no one comes in at night.”

  There was a noise downstairs and Maya immediately stepped back against the wall and into the shadows. The Enforcer leaned forward slightly to see over the rail and watched as her father walked through the bar below, grabbed a bottle off the shelf, and headed back into the apartment. He watched him until he walked out of the room, then turned with a disapproving glare back to Maya. “I guess that answers that question. You should go before your father catches you up here,” he said, turning to reenter the room.

  “Wait, please,” she pleaded. Desperate to stop him she reached out and did what few living had ever done, she grabbed his arm.

  The sudden unexpected contact set off an instinctual reaction and he spun around, violently knocking her off her feet. The clothes she had in her hand hit the floor as she stumbled backwards toward the banister. Fearing she would fall over the edge, he quickly caught ahold of her arm and pulled her back toward him.

  Maya stood there gaping up at him, wide eyed with fear. But there was also something else. A sensation he didn’t recognize moved up his hand and into his arm. And with it came an uplifting sense of tranquility; much like the feeling you get when you sit listening to a warm fire crackling on a cold winter day. And for a briefest moment, nothing else existed in the world except him and her.

  In an almost panicked motion he withdrew his hand and noticed a bruise encircling her arm where he had grabbed it. An immense guilt over took him, as he stared down at the massive black and blue mark he had created. “I apologize. I did not mean to …” But that was as far as he got. He watched a single tear roll down her cheek and thinking it better if he returned to his room, he headed inside.

  “I didn’t tell him because he wouldn’t understand,” she called to him, letting out a sigh. “He thinks you are a murderer and a traitor to your own kind; that you relish in the violence and fear that you instill in others.” She looked up at him as he glanced over his shoulder at her, possibly expecting some sort of reaction to the statement.

  But instead he remained calm and emotionless. “And what do you think?”

  “I think you are no different than the rest of us,” she answered, pointing to the tag around his wrist. “We all preform the jobs assigned to us by the Shadows or risk prosecution. You were selected as the Enforcer because,” she paused as she tried to form the right words to use without being offensive, “of the particular skills you possess. But if it hadn’t been you it would have been someone else. They need a Full-blood to control Full-bloods.”

  The Enforcer faced the room and away from the young girl. The words rang with so much truth it was painful. Not in decades had anyone tried to see past the visage of the Enforcer, nor been this open and honest with him. Maya, however, spoke to him as if she had known him her whole life and with wisdom well beyond her young years.

  Taking a moment to recompose himself, the Enforcer turned back around. “Where should I leave the clothes?”

  The smile returned to her face as she gathered the spilled clothing off the floor and handed them to him.
“Place them outside the door, and I will come up in a little while to retrieve them.” Then spinning around, she headed down the hall as she called back to him, “They will be by your door when you wake in the morning.”

  Closing the door behind him, he carried the pile of towels and clothes to the bed and set them down. He sat down on the chair, pulled off his boots, emptied his pockets onto the bedside table, and then removed the various layers of clothes before entering the bathroom. The hot water from the shower felt soothing as it washed away all the signs of the sins he had committed during the day. Below him the water turned a strange shade of rust as the blood mixed with the dirt before disappearing down the drain.

  Yet no matter how much he washed he still felt dirty, like the blood of his victims had soaked into his pores. He continued to scrub and wash until he felt he was as clean as he could possibly get, then climbed out of the shower and dried off. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he proceeded into the room to examine the pile of clothes Maya had brought up.

  He picked up the shirt and held it in the air in front of him; she hadn’t lied, grandpa was a big man. Pulling the shirt on over his head, he then turned his attention to the pants. They appeared to be several sizes too big in the waist and at least a couple of feet short in the length. This won’t work, he thought, deciding instead to put his shorts back on.

  Once dressed, the Enforcer opened the door and set his pile of clothes outside like he had been instructed. He looked down the hallway, hoping to catch sight of Maya one more time before going bed, but the hall was completely bare. Disappointed, he went to the bed and laid down the best he could and allowed exhaustion to take hold. Within minutes he was fast asleep.

  It was the best sleep he had had in a long time, and he would have likely kept on sleeping had there not been a knock on the door. The sound woke him with a start, causing him to sit straight up in the bed, instantly ready for whatever came through. But nothing came, and after a minute or two another knock sounded this one slightly more forceful than the one before. The Enforcer glanced at the clock; eight in the morning, four hours, it was the most sleep he could remember getting in months, if not longer. Spinning around to get out of the bed he suddenly remembered what he was wearing.