Arise (After the Reign Book 1)

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Arise (After the Reign Book 1) Page 2

by CK Dawn


  She’d grown up hearing all the tales from the Spree witches', warning of the dangers the three sisters Prudence, Patience, and Credence Moirai posed. Professor Mary Bradbury and her coven of Spree witches described the Moirai sisters as pure evil. The surviving Spree witches of the Salem Witch Trials who’d been drowned, stoned, burned, and hung, knew a thing or two about true evil. Once the sisters had become the Three Fates they were forever known by all witches, fae, vampires, and werewolves alike as the end of days who would bring about even worse destruction than the human world had witnessed with the Fae’s Scorch. Mira was told that nothing in history compared to the destruction of the Scorch and how many millions of humans the fae royals had killed. So she knew someone or something described as worse, shouldn’t be trifled with. All her life, Mira had also been told that she was a threat to the Three Fate’s because, like them, she and her mother were the only other known hybrids. The biggest difference was the Moirai witches had garnered their hybrid status through manipulation, cruelty, and even cold-blooded murder. Prudence, a vampire-witch, Patience, a werewolf-witch, and the last and most dangerous, Credence, a fae-witch hybrid, had lied and killed to become all-powerful beings. Mira was unique, though, and definitely not a witch. She was half-human and half-fae, like her mother. She hadn’t been transformed into a hybrid through transcendence as her human mother had. Mira had been born a hybrid. The only one in existence, her parents' little Miracle.

  She looked longingly at the wall of red doors, wishing to be a normal human girl, and walk through one of the magical gateways and be in Paris or Rome in an instant, meet a cute boy, and have a little fun. But she wasn’t just any ordinary girl and her parents weren’t any ordinary couple either. And even though she was as indestructible as they were, she was always warned there were things far worse than death waiting out there for her.

  Just then, Mira watched as the red Gothic arched door to New York swung open. A group of five teen boys she’d never seen before were framed by the archway. Instantly, the tall fair-haired one caught her eye. He passed through the group like an angel, sauntering into Crimson Hollow carrying two cardboard boxes while the other four boys carried only one. As the door began to close, she got a quick glance of a black and chrome motorcycle parked outside, and wondered if it belonged to the intriguing blond. The others followed him inside as if he always led the way.

  He was gorgeous, tall, muscular, oozing charm out of every pore, and had the deepest blue eyes. Mira felt as though she were falling into them.

  “You’re late.” Curiously, Mordecai’s eyes darted over a dark corner of the Hollow before his steely stare returned to the boys in front of him. “And I do not enjoy being disturbed when I have a special guest.”

  “Sir.” The blue-eyed blond apologized on his group’s behalf.

  Mordecai held up one finger and gestured for him to leave a single box. “Bean’s upstairs.” With a tap on the side table beside him, he dismissed them.

  Glancing at Mira out of the corner of his eye, the boy nodded to Mordecai, left one box, and headed up the marble staircase with the others in tow.

  “Who was that?” Mira whispered. She couldn’t hide the interest laced in her voice.

  The master vampire looked between Mira’s infatuated stare and the group of boys retreating up the marble staircase. Knowingly, his eyes flitted over the blond in particular. “Never-you-mind who that was.” He grabbed a handful of her buttered popcorn and waved off her inquisition with a flick of his wrist. “Recently acquired strays that run my shipments in the human realm.”

  “He’s...they’re human?” Mira gasped. She never got to interact with other humans she didn’t already know. Living in the small community in Bremerton didn’t help matters. Over the years, even the vampires’ human concubines at the Hollow always seemed to busy themselves when she was around or found excuses to leave quickly. And there was never anyone her age, ever.

  “Mouth. Drooling. Close.” Mordecai snickered, seeming to find her rousing teenage hormones amusing.

  Mira looked away in embarrassment, focusing instead on one of her favorite characters in the television series. Suspiciously, she started looking between the dashing vampire on TV in his finely tailored suit and Mordecai in his. Their physical similarities and stiff polished mannerisms were uncanny.

  “Seriously?” Her head whipped between Mordecai and his digital doppelganger over and over. Their short brown waves and neatly razor-trimmed five o’clock shadows echoed one another to perfection. Even their fitted dark navy suits had the same subtle sheen and stitching. “No.” She gasped.

  “What? Most know I’ve been quite the muse for artists and writers over the centuries.” He said defensively.

  “Well, I didn’t know. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” She ate another handful of popcorn, talked with her mouth full, and did wipe her buttery fingers on her blouse that time. “It would have been useful information to have. Instead, I wasted hours sifting through scab-chum.”

  “Mira, language!” Mordecai sounded mortified. “Not to mention the utter disrespect of both realms! Being of Earth or Fae, I can’t believe you would say such a thing!”

  “I know, I’m sorry. It’s true though.”

  “Most shows are horrid, yes. But that doesn’t excuse your disregard of where that particular term came from or your cavalier use of it! I can’t believe you’d ever utter such words. Especially you, Mira!” Mordecai got very quiet, perhaps remembering his role in the particular point of human and fae history.

  “I am sorry, Uncle Mordie, truly. I shouldn’t have said that. I know better.”

  “A lot of people died, Mira mine.”

  “I know.” Her meek voice answered.

  “Millions of deaths should mean more than being compared to those bastards’ food scraps.”

  It was Mira’s turn to go quiet. She knew the generic historical version of the fae’s invasion, how the ruling caste used natural disasters on a massive global scale, and unleashed hundreds of thousands of blood-thirsty scabs to devastate the human realm. She’d been born at the end of the attack. But the stories had faded into her memories as merely scary bedtime tales told to a child. No one ever talked about how it affected them personally, or how it changed them, not really.

  “Sorry.” She tried to smooth things over by caressing his ego a bit. “I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me this character was based on you though. It’s...it’s just exciting, Uncle Mordie, that’s all. It’s like I know a movie star or something.”

  He looked over at her soiled blouse with disdain.

  She glamoured over the stain to hide it. Her three-month stay at the Hollow was off to a rocky start.

  “There once was a time when I had a life before becoming a glorified babysitter you know?”

  His jab stung, an obvious rebuke of his distaste of her disrespectful language, but more than that, she wagered it was for her earlier glamoured hair so reminiscent of her mother’s. Mira couldn’t help the hurt look that swept across her face. He knew he was more than a babysitter to her while her overprotective parents were away. He was family. She had argued with everything she had to convince her parents to let her stay at the Hollow with Mordecai instead of at the Spree with the also overprotective witches. His words had her blood boiling and had broken her heart. She wasn’t a child anymore and wondered if anyone would ever stop treating her like one.

  Still, she knew the glamour had been a childish thing to do to get her way. But the so-called adult in the room had been the one that chose to hurt her feelings on purpose like a bully in school. Mordecai knew better than anyone how tired Mira was of being sheltered and hidden away from the rest of the world. She confided as much to him when she had pleaded with him to stay at the Hollow, hoping there she’d at least have some freedom for once. Yes, she had free rein to travel through the Spree Mirror’s permanent portal stops, but they were safe havens, populated only by people she’d known all her life. The places she was allo
wed to go weren’t exciting anymore like they had been when she was young. The people weren’t ever unexpected. And nothing new ever happened. Everyone in her life was built-in. They were either her parents’ friends or considered family. No one was just...hers.

  Mordecai’s jawbone protruded as he gritted his teeth. Letting out a low grumble, the sound turned into a long guilty sigh of an apology. He stood up, pulled a bottle of his favorite scotch from the box, and placed the Macallan on the table. He picked up the rest of the delivery, blocked Mira’s glazed-over stare of the television, and held the cardboard box out in front of him. “Take this up to Bean, hmm?” He gestured up the staircase toward the direction the boys had gone and rolled his eyes. “Just...be good.”

  “Like I have a choice.” She argued, but jumped up at the chance and took the package anyway.

  “I mean, have a little fun. Just don’t do anything that I would do.”

  “Ha!” Mira blushed, finally realizing her uncle was referring to his promiscuous, yet unapologetic, sex life. “No, never that. I...I won’t.”

  Without taking his eyes from Mira, Mordecai called out to the same dark corner of Crimson Hollow he had looked to earlier. “Sawyer Dean.”

  “Sir?” A young enigmatic figure came forward and revealed himself for the first time.

  Mira could have sworn she and her uncle were alone. The tall dark-brown-haired boy appeared out of nowhere. He must have come in with the rest of the human boys but wondered why she hadn’t noticed him. To say he was gorgeous was putting it mildly. His strong chiseled jaw and deep penetrating brown eyes made her heartbeat quicken.

  “Go with her,” Mordecai ordered.

  In an instant, the boy’s heart pounding good looks turned to loathe at the prospect of having a chaperone. Mira whipped her head in her uncle’s direction to protest. As quick as a flash, though, she decided against saying a word upon seeing the warning look he was giving her.

  The master vampire cocked his head, and with an eyebrow raised, he was threatening her not to undermine his authority in front of his subordinate. Her uncle gave her a lot of leeway, more than he relented to anyone else, but his tolerance had its limits, even with her.

  Sawyer didn’t try to hide his expression as he chuckled to himself. He took off a drab green military-style utility jacket and started walking straight towards Mira.

  Silver shavings! She thought to herself. No wonder I couldn’t sense you. Your jacket must be filled with the stuff. Aside from spells and potions within the magic community, she hadn’t known anyone to use the material as a camouflaging technique in years.

  The closer he came towards her, the more she became transfixed on an intricate tattoo swirling up and wrapping around the muscles of his right arm. Starting at his wrist, the design weaved around his brown skin like a boa constrictor, blending seamlessly between a mixture of what appeared to be intricate Maori patterns and beautiful Japanese cherry blossoms and koi fish. The artwork disappeared beneath his t-shirt’s edge before she could see its finish. Bummer, she thought to herself, as she tried to hide her disappointment with a scratch of a nonexistent itch just under her nose.

  Picking up her suitcase, he brushed past her in one fluid motion. He exuded arrogant confidence and his large frame dominated every inch of space his body occupied. “It’s okay, Princess,” he whispered. “I’m not thrilled about this either.” Without a second look, he headed toward the grand marble staircase, daring her not to follow.

  With an encouraging wink and a smirk from Mordecai, she squared her shoulders, whipped around, and decided to join her new bodyguard Sawyer at the base of the steps.

  “I’m not really a Princess, you know?” She demanded, catching up to him.

  He looked back at Mordecai who had already resumed watching her favorite television series without her with a handful of popcorn and a crystal rocks glass full of scotch. The boy’s deep brown eyes fell back onto her as he chuckled. “Whatever you say, your highness.” He turned and started up the steps.

  She followed in silence for a few seconds before she couldn’t bear the insolence anymore. “I take it by your sarcastic name-calling, you know who I am?” His mocking use of antiquated and inaccurate titles had her fuming.

  “I’d have to be an idiot not to know who you are.”

  “Well then you know I don’t need a bodyguard.” She hissed.

  “Ha!” He stopped halfway up the staircase. “That’s funny. We’ve only just met and here you are, already using me for my body.”

  “What? No, I--” Mortified, she looked back down at her uncle to see if he was listening but the man was already consumed by the vampire series flashing before his eyes.

  “Relax. Kidding.” Sawyer gave her a full-blown smile full of perfect pearly white teeth. “Your uncle knows you don’t need a bodyguard in the literal sense of the word. And I know you don’t want a babysitter either. So, maybe just consider me an inconvenient host during your stay at the Hollow instead?” He offered, proving he’d heard every word of her conversation with Mordecai.

  Too embarrassed to say anything more, she couldn’t help but wonder if he felt as stuck in their current intertwined situation as she did.

  “Like it or not, arrangements were made before your arrival. I’ve been assigned to stay by your side for the next three months. And I take my job very seriously.” His cunning smile taunted her. “Use my body as you will, but know I’m more than just muscles and a pretty face. I’m pretty sure I’m meant to be the brains of whatever little adventure your uncle thinks you might have cooked up.” He teased. “You are, however, most definitely the brawn, Prince--” He stopped himself from uttering any unwanted titles.

  “This is ridiculous! Even my parents don’t have me followed. Oh my God, and school?” The thought of him lurking in the back of her classes had her mortified. “What are you going to do while I’m in class all day?”

  “Well, I’ve always dreamed of going to witchy school, learning spells, mixing potions.” He teased again.

  “Uugh.” She didn’t try to hide her contempt as he mocked what he obviously considered her privileged magical upbringing. She looked up the steps longingly at the slowly disappearing freedom she had hoped to have while her parents were away. “I hate my life.”

  He tsked, as if judging her perception of what a difficult life truly was. “Look, we may be stuck with each other, and you’ve made it abundantly clear you’d prefer me to be a shadow on the wall, so, don’t worry. You won’t even know I’m here.”

  She continued to stare up at the landing with lost puppy-dog eyes. “Three months?” Her rhetorical question clung in the air like it was a life-long prison sentence.

  “C’mon,” his playful tone turned cold as he followed her gaze up the stairs. “Your fun is waiting.” Turning away, he started up the steps again.

  “A shadow on the wall huh?” His offer gave her hope of the semblance of some freedom. “You are really good at that.” She didn’t know why, but even with his back turned, she blushed. Her emotions and reactions were all over the place around Sawyer Dean. “I bet you don’t even need to cheat and use silver shavings, huh?” She blurted out.

  “Wow, was that an actual compliment, Princess?” He mocked.

  “Yeah, it was.” In a huff, she stepped up and pushed past him. Ignoring the flush of embarrassment glowing red hot on her skin at the nape of her neck and the back of her ears, she stayed in front of him and marched up the stairs. “You should try giving one sometime.”

  She swore she could almost feel the self-satisfied grin on his face as he answered back. “Maybe I will.”

  All eyes fell on Mira as soon as she reached the top of the staircase. Several boys nudged each other and their conversations stopped.

  “Hi, I’m, uh--” Mira froze and didn’t know what to say. Sawyer had already disappeared with her suitcase. Any help improvising her arrival with his assistance was gone. As if he’d help anyway, she thought.

  “Fae? Yeah, we can
see that. New here too, huh, gorgeous? Hi,” the blond boy gave her his full attention as the others looked on. “I’m sorry, beautiful. Where are my manners? Are we in your seat?” Compliments rolled off his tongue as easily as saying her name. “Guys, move. Make room for this flawless creature.” He took a sip from his crystal glass and kept his eyes on Mira from over its rim. Waiting for her to engage in casual conversion, she supposed, he set his glass back on the bar.

  “What? Oh, fae? No, I’m just Mira.” Gesturing to her face she started rambling. She must have glamoured into a perfect porcelain doll-like fae version of herself without even knowing she’d done it. “Well, I mean, I kind of am, uh, but this happens sometimes when I’m--” Words were fumbling out of her mouth faster than an automatic tennis ball machine set on high. She was so nervous she had almost admitted as much out loud. Focusing, she removed her unintentional beauty glamour like taking off a photo filter. The cowlick that forever haunted the front of her hairline hadn’t been cute at all that morning and she had given up trying to tame it years ago. Worse still, she knew she had to be blushing on top of the human side of her DNA deciding to break out in bright red pimples a couple of days ago. She blamed her parents. Glad they had finally taken their honeymoon after seventeen long years but still anxious and stressed about being virtually on her own for the first time ever.

  “Oh.” He seemed surprised at her less than perfect skin and disheveled hair. “Much...better. Perfectly, uh, imperfect.” He gave her a half-smile. “Although, you shouldn’t say you’re just Mira. I have a feeling you are anything but.” He smiled again trying to hide his disappointed expression with a compliment.

  Mira swore she felt Sawyer Dean roll his eyes from one of the dark corners he was hovering in. They’d only just met, but she got the feeling that he didn’t like the blond very much.

  “My name’s Conor Lane, by the way. So, if I didn’t steal your seat, what brings you up here?” Conor looked past her to see if anyone was joining her, then toward the hallway of mostly forbidden rooms. They were where the fae vampires and dusk bloods took concubines for more...privacy.

 

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