K: The Awakening (The Shadow Chronicles Book 1)

by K. R. Fajardo

  Finally the kid grew a spine, Jarod thought before he stepped into Mikel’s room. Looking back over his shoulder he could see him standing between the two rooms with a large goofy grin on his face. I can see why they like him.

  Once inside, he noticed Rigar planted in a chair in the corner of the room, obviously upset by his presence. He couldn’t resist the temptation to further aggravate the Full-blood some more, so as he walked in, he turned and gave him a wink and a smile. It served its purpose and sent Rigar into a flying rage. “I don’t understand why the hell he is here, I told you we need to call the patrols and have them all turned over to the Shadows.”

  Citera, who was still seated at her father’s side, attempted to calm the infuriated Full-blood. “Rigar, you know as well as I do that we can’t do that; after everything we have seen and heard today, they would execute us all to keep it hidden.”

  Despite the girl’s attempt to calm him, Jarod wasn’t about to let the threat go unchallenged. “Call them and see what happens to you when they arrive. What, don’t think I can find a way to justify myself being here? What if I say I’m here doing a routine visit and come across this rouge Full-blood who broke curfew and locked himself in a closed clinic with two young Terrian kids? I can only imagine what charges the patrols would come up with, that is if you are even still alive when they get here.”

  Maybe he exaggerated a bit. Sure he could come up with some lame excuse to explain his own presence in the clinic, but he definitely couldn’t explain Jaron’s or K’s, and just being here with them would be enough to have him arrested as well. But Rigar didn’t need to know all that.

  “Please, stop,” the weak voice of Mikel called to them. “He’s in here because I asked him to be. Now if you don’t mind, I would like to talk to him alone for a moment.”

  “What?” Citera and Rigar both protested simultaneously.

  “You want me to leave,” Citera asked, hurt playing in her voice. “But I just got you back. Why would you want me to leave you?”

  “Only for a moment, please.” Mikel comforted her. Placing a hand on her cheek, he continued, “It will be fine, I promise.”

  Citera leaned over and embraced her father, kissing him on his forehead, then walked past Jarod without a glance. Rigar, like Citera, was obviously upset about being kicked out of the room. “Mikel, I will do as you asked, but I beg of you, don’t listen to any of his lies, he and his friends can’t be trusted.”

  As the door shut behind them, Mikel turned his attention back to Jarod. “You came back like you said you would.” Then pointing to the bandage on his neck, he asked, “Did Citera do that?”

  “When given the choice, your daughter chose to spare my life, I simply returned the favor. Besides you are of more use to us alive, at least for the moment.”

  “I see, and what about the girl? I believe my daughter called her K, what will you do with her?”

  “Jaron will take her back with him and I will return to the Tower.”

  Mikel thought about this for a moment. “And us?”

  Jarod had given this issue a great deal of thought since their arrival to the clinic. These three had been exposed to too many dark secrets in the last few hours, secrets that were dangerous to them all if they were to reach the wrong ears. But he also knew that K would never permit him to dispose of them in his normal manor.

  His hesitation to answer did not go unnoticed by Mikel. “I see, so can you at least tell me how long we have before you will be leaving?”

  As the Enforcer, he was much more comfortable being the one who asked the questions and he wasn’t exactly sure how to answer without making them look more suspicious.

  “Soon,” he answered vaguely.

  Jarod could tell Mikel was becoming increasingly upset, certain the poor man was trying to calculate in his mind the number of days he had left before he would witness his daughter’s slaughter at his hands. Normally that would be the very thought that he want to instill, but not now, they needed Mikel’s help and his daughter’s.

  “Can you at least tell me if there was a reason why we were inspected to begin with, did someone report us?” Mikel asked, desperate to make some sense of the last two weeks.

  “No. The patrols contacted the Tower requesting help with a local thief that was making off with their supplies despite all their best efforts. And he is the one I would have left with, except—”

  “Janil confessed,” Mikel said cutting him off. He placed his head in his hands at the realization of what had happened. Jarod, feeling he had caused enough damage for one day, headed for the door. There was nothing he could say to this man that would make up for what had already been done. He turned the knob and was about to step through the door when Mikel called to him with tears in his eyes, “Can you tell me what happened to her? I mean, is she imprisoned or is she …” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

  Jarod could feel the longing of his gaze burning a hole in his back as he sought some sort of comfort, comfort that he couldn’t give him. “We should discuss these things in the morning, you have not recovered fully from your own ordeal and this conversation is only causing you more stress,” he said, moving to go through the door. “Jaron will be able to explain everything better than I can.”

  “Don’t you walk away from me.” Mikel called after him loudly, “I need to know what I allowed her to walk herself into.”

  Jarod clenched his fists and breathed through his anger of being spoken to with such disrespect. Only once he had calmed himself and regained control, did he look over his shoulder to address Mikel. “She is with her husband,” and with that said, he closed the door behind him, leaving Mikel to his grief.

  Citera was waiting outside and he could tell by the look on her face that she too had heard his answer. Saying nothing, he walked around her, avoiding her gazed as he made his way down the hall to K’s room. The blood seemed to have done her a great deal of good and she was sitting up straight on the side of the bed, blue eyes peering at him. He made his way into the room and collapsed in the nearest chair, which groaned beneath his weight. K watched but said nothing, as he rubbed his hands down his face. “Can I ever hope to right all the wrongs that I have done?”

  “The fact that you are even asking that question is a good start,” K answered calmly. Her demeanor and whole way of speaking made him feel relaxed. There was no longer any judgment in her voice; as far as she was concerned he had been tried and found worthy of a second chance, one he had no desire to squander.

  He shook his head, eyes fixed on the floor. “These people will never forgive or forget the things I have done, nor should they. I have wronged them and so many others during my service to the Shadows, I can’t imagine that they or anyone else will ever be able to see me as anything other than the monster I let them turn me into.” He leaned back and looked up at her. “How could they? I wouldn’t if I was in their place.”

  “Forget? No, you’re right, they won’t forget. Things like that stick with a person for their lifetime, trust me, I know. But it is possible, I think, to be forgiven, though it will take some hard work on your part.” K looked through the door window at Dirik, as he embraced a crying Citera in the hallway. “Give it some time, right now the pain is still fresh and the wounds need time to heal.”

  Jarod followed her gaze and watched as Dirik escorted Citera back up the hallway toward the apartment.

  “These Terrians, they don’t hold on to hatred like we do, they weren’t designed for it. And as you yourself have experienced, they aren’t ones for revenge either. However, in order for them, and you, to move beyond this you will have to confront what you have done and give them a chance to do the same.”

  “What about you, my lady? What do I do to earn back your trust?”

  A half smile ghosted K’s lips. “I am sure you know that I, by no means, am innocent. I have done many things that I am not proud of in my lifetime. That being said, I really shouldn’t be the one to place judgment
on another.” While they spoke, Jarod watched as K focused her attention on the floor and began to swing her legs back and forth over the side of the bed in a child-like manner. “Anyway, I think you have proven that you are willing to do what it takes to make things right, so for the moment, I am willing to look past it all.” She hesitated a moment before glancing up from the floor and turning her attention to him with an expression so terrifying, that it made him flinch. “So don’t make me regret it, because there won’t be another.”

  Before he could respond to her, the door to the room opened and Jaron came stumbling inside using the wall and door frame for support.

  “What are you doing up? You should rest until morning and give the formula time to work,” Jarod said, going to his friend’s aid. He assisted him over to the chair and eased him down.

  “Thanks, but I feel useless in there, besides that kid kept staring at me through the window, and it was making me nervous.”

  “Where did he go anyway? I told him to keep an eye on you,” Jarod said, walking over to look out the door window, but the boy was nowhere to be found. “Ran away again, typical.”

  “No he didn’t. Give the kid a break, its late and he probably went to sleep. I saw him and the girl go into the apartment upstairs.”

  Jarod glanced over at the clock on the wall. The Terrians probably were exhausted, it was nearly three in the morning.

  He looked back at K and Jaron. “You should both get some rest as well.”

  “You’re one to talk,” Jaron replied sarcastically. “You have been awake for a least the last four days that I have been around, who knows how long before that.”

  “I’m fine, I have gone longer than this without sleep. Besides, I still don’t trust the Full-blood, he may try to sneak out and find the patrols,” he retorted, dismissing Jaron’s concerns.

  “There is no point in watching the door all night, if he is going to turn us in it won’t be tonight, not after the number you did on him. Chances are he won’t even be able to go to work tomorrow morning. No, I figure if he is going to report us it will be in the daytime when we can’t follow him, not without being noticed anyway.” Jaron managed to return unsteadily to his feet. “Anyhow, I think I will take your advice and lay back down, the dizziness is making me sick.” He laid a hand upon Jarod’s shoulder as he walked by. “And you, my friend, should do the same, you won’t be any good to us when exhaustion finally does set in.”

  “Here, let me help you,” he offered, blatantly ignoring Jaron’s advice. “My lady, you should rest as well, the blood will work faster if you sleep.” She nodded, but her attention was still fixed on the floor as she continued to swing her legs methodically.

  The two of them walked out the door and made their way to the next room. After Jaron had settled in, Jarod went back into the hall and glanced around, searching for the best place to camp for the night where he would be able to see both doors. To his surprise and disappointment he wasn’t alone in the hallway; a few doors down, sitting on the floor outside her father’s room, was Citera. He had no desire to talk to her or anyone else tonight, and was trying to figure out how best to avoid the situation when she looked up and spotted him. Damn, he thought, then remembering what K had said about allowing them to confront him and what he had done, he headed down the hall toward her.

  “Where are your friends?” he asked as he approached.

  She looked up at him, her eyes red from crying. “Asleep.”

  “You should do the same. I’ll watch over things down here until morning.”

  She moved to stand and he held his hand out to help her up. Looking puzzled, she glanced from his hand then back at him before taking it and pulling herself to her feet, then without a word she headed down the hall. He was beginning to feel partially relieved that she seemed to have no interest in talking, or for that matter looking at him, when she stopped at the bottom of the staircase and spun around suddenly. “Who are you, really?” she demanded.

  Her face was filled with a mixture of anger and sadness. He would have preferred to have avoided this conversation altogether, but since they were all stuck in the tiny confines of this clinic with the three of them, he figured he might as well get it over with. “You know who I am,” he answered coldly.

  “I thought I did,” she replied, sitting down on the bottom of the stairs, “but now I just feel confused.” She stared up at the Enforcer while he stood there looking down on her in his normal emotionless gaze, making no attempt to explain himself any further. He had saved her father, admitted to saving many others, and in the same breath told them he had killed Janil. She didn’t know if she should hate him or thank him, never had she been so torn as to how to feel about one person.

  As the two of them continued to study the other closely, Citera couldn’t help but shudder as an eerie shadow passed over the Enforcer’s face, making his black eyes appear to be nothing more than hollow pits in his skull. That, coupled with the entirely black attire he covered his body in, reminded her of a frightening story her father used to tell her as a child.

  The story claimed that back in ancient times, before their people became enlightened and turned to the stars for guidance, people believed in myths and legends. One such mythical being was a demon slave that would come in the dark of the night to steal the souls of living for his master. The story said that often these unfortunate people would try to bargain, beg, and trick the demon into leaving them their souls or to give them more time. But in the end, none of it ever worked, for this demon was ruthless in the pursuit of his target, and no matter how hard his victims tried to avoid him, he always found them, and claimed their souls.

  “The Reaper,” she muttered under her breath, remembering the demon’s name.

  “What did you say?” he asked, his voice hinting of anger.

  “The Reaper, he’s the demon servant of Lord Death. It’s a story my dad used to tell me when I was younger, and it’s who I see when I look at you.”

  “I know who it is,” he growled, “I have heard the stories.” She was surprised by how offended he seemed to be getting at the notion of himself being compared to the Reaper. “If I was this demon of death, would I have saved your father’s life?”

  “Maybe not, but what is one life in comparison to the hundreds you have taken? And maybe your friend was telling the truth when he said you didn’t want to, but it makes no difference. You did it anyway because they told you to,” she heaved a deep breath to steady her nerves as she continued to stare down the very angry man. “It’s the same as in the story. The Reaper never wanted to be Lord Death’s slave, he was captured and forced into doing it. Supposedly he was tortured for centuries before he finally submitted. However, once he had, and he began collecting souls for Lord Death, he found he loved the fear and power he possessed over his victims, and no longer wanted to stop. ”

  When she finished, he turned his back to her and headed down the hallway. Could it be she had struck a nerve, was he really going to turn and walk away without saying anything back to her? The more she thought about it the madder she became. How dare he avoid the situation? He never allowed the people he was after the luxury of walking away from him, so why should she? Shooting to her feet, Citera yelled down the hall after him, “Where are you going, did I offend you? Did I come too close to the truth?”

  He ignored her as he continued down the hall toward the lobby, and with each step he took away from her the angrier she became. “Just keep walking then. Like I said, you can’t do anything unless you are told to and you are incapable of thinking for yourself, so go back to them because all you are and all you will ever be is a slave, a mindless, cowardly slave!”

  As soon as she said it she knew she had crossed a line, but it was done, and there was no taking it back. He froze in his tracks and in the darkness of the hallway she could see his hands closing into fists. Realizing that she needed to get away and having nowhere to go but up the stairs, Citera slowly took a step backwards onto the first
of the steps. Unfortunately as she placed her weight onto the old wooden boards they betrayed her, announcing her retreat with a faint but audible creak.

  In a flash he was standing over her, eyes glowing blood red. “Where do you think you are going?” he demanded.

  Citera desperately searched for a means of escape, but there was none to be found. “I-I think I sh-should go upstairs,” she stammered.

  “Oh no, you wanted me to come here, and being the good ‘slave’ that I am, here I am.” He was leaning in closer and closer, slowly closing what little gap remained between them.

  Carefully she moved another foot back to the next step, trying to put some space between her and him. “I am sorry, I didn’t mean it. I was just angry and didn’t think …”

  “Shhhh,” he smiled, placing his index finger over her lips. “Let’s find out if you’re right. You said I can’t kill someone unless I am told to do so. Well, no one has told me to kill you, so let’s see what happens when I try.” He smiled diabolically, revealing his fully extended fangs.

  Citera’s heart was pounding out of her chest as she took another step backwards, but her legs gave way beneath her and she collapsed onto the stairs. “Please, I am sorry I said it, I didn’t mean it. I know there is a good inside you, I saw it today when you saved my dad. Please, please.”

  However, all her pleading fell on deaf ears as he grabbed ahold of the front of her shirt, lifting her off the floor with ease. Helpless to do anything else, Citera closed her eyes and braced herself in anticipation of what was to come.

  Then she felt it, a stabbing pain in the side of her neck as he bit into her, then a throbbing sensation as he pulled her blood from her body. Yet as swiftly as the pain began, it stopped, replaced by a sense of weightlessness as she fell to the floor. She hit the edge of the steps below with such an impact that it knocked her from her senses. As she slowly came about, the first thing she noticed was the ache in her neck and the blood dripping down her chest from the wound. However, that was nothing in comparison to the sharp pain in her side which worsened with each breath she took.