“You are not him. You have the goodness of your mother, and I would know. I don't regret anything. I didn't know you were a Nephilim until your mother gave birth. She prayed for help, and the Angel of Death, who was supposed to guide your mother to Heaven, informed me I was assigned to you instead. Ironic I've spent sixteen years protecting you and not once since this revelation have I thought why couldn't I have gotten someone normal?"
"You mean Lucifer’s child." She swallowed the lumped in her throat.
“Doesn’t change a thing. I’ve seen you grow up into a beautiful person. From your very first breath, no matter where you grew up, poor or rich you remained the same.”
It changed everything.
Tears welled in the corners of Luxor’s eyes. She wanted more than anything to see her mother. Why wouldn’t it have been her instead of Cane who invaded her mind? Why couldn’t she have been face to face and in her mother’s presence?
“Close your eyes,” Ayla whispered. Before Luxor could ask why Ayla materialised a baby pink orb in her palm. “This will hurt a little bit.” She pressed her fingers against Luxor’s forehead.
Luxor screeched. A thousand volts of power zoomed into her mind and transformed blinded her vision.
A whirl surrounded Luxor and when she opened her eyes, she gathered her bearings and entered a white picket fence house situated in a small cul de sac. Two tone wails assaulted her ears and she turned her head to the direction of where it came from. Meredith had a tiny baby covered in blood and amniotic fluid messily wrapped up in a towel and placed her on the couch. She neglected the wails of the baby, instead draping herself over the lifeless body of Astrid.
An all too familiar pastel pink light came up from behind Meredith. Ayla had knelt down next to a newborn and tore a strip of material from her ivory, floor length dress. From the crown of Luxor's head to her toes, she cleaned her up until no residue remained.
"I'll always be here for you dearest Luxor." Ayla gave her a breathtaking smile, her face lighting up. Reaching back, she winced as she plucked a feather from her wings, blessing the child before tucking it within the folds of the towel.
The infant stopped crying, sucking away at the finger Ayla provided for comfort. As Meredith turned around Ayla faded yet her aura lingered, only now did she recognise there was another one suffering.
Meredith lay the placid infant on her Astrid’s breast positioning her hands over her. "I promise to look after her, she'll be safe." But Luxor could see the falseness in her words. Meredith left the house and sat on the porch leaving the defenceless infant alone. Ayla smoothed Astrid’s hair back and leant over her, laying a kiss on her mother's forehead.
Luxor was brought back to the present. She choked on the sobs, the confirmation laid bare proving Meredith never truly loved her. “Show me more,” she begged.
“I can’t. I can only show what I have seen.”
“She left me. A defenceless newborn. She couldn’t even hold me,” Luxor wiped her tears away. She wasn’t even sure who she meant. All she wanted to do was curl up in a ball, but the stitches from the stab wound prevented it.
“But I’ll always be here. Remember that,” Ayla said. She slid her hand into the pocket of her dress and recovered Luxor’s necklace. Her eyes lingered a fraction too long at the glittery stones. “No matter how much it hurts, keep this on you.”
Luxor hesitated before she tucked the necklace away underneath the pillow away from Ayla’s prying eyes, feeling as if her soul was being prodded. There was more significance to the necklace, further information which was being held back, she was sure off. Her mother wanted her to keep it close to her heart and to think of her, but every time she did Cane would inflict a dose of torture on her.
Ayla took her cue to leave, her feet soundless on the floorboards, despite not floating. She glanced over her shoulder sending a small smile Luxor’s way before floating down, the sheet billowing with her departure.
Hunter ran into the room juggling a tray laden with food, placing it on the side table. “What did she do to you?” he demanded. When Luxor flinched, he reeled in his tone.
“Nothing,” she said. For now, Luxor wanted to keep Meredith’s true intentions to herself.
Who knew what Hunter would have done?
He held up a steaming bowl of pumpkin soup. Slumping his shoulders, he continuously stirred. “In that case, I hope she didn’t leave on my account.”
“Would you have cared if she did?”
“What do you think?” he said with a smirk and placed the tray across her lap.
Despite it smelling delicious, she had no inclination to eat and set it aside to cool down. Luxor knew the exact answer but didn’t need to voice it. Despite working as a team there was no love lost between them.
“She was useful in drawing out some of the Habitis energy you had been injected with. For some reason it didn’t affect you as bad as it would a lower grade Nephilim.”
“Probably because of the genetic level of psycho from my sperm donor,” Luxor said grimly.
Hunter shrugged. “Who knows, at least it worked in our favour.”
She shifted and moved over, lowering her eyes for him to join her. She needed him near. Hunter slipped in next to her not hesitating in gently bringing her close. She gripped onto his waist and laid her head against his beating heart.
Luxor nodded. She removed the blanket, and rose hastily, off the mattress. The beating of a drum reverberated in her skull and echoed throughout her ears. Her knees buckled and she staggered.
"I have you." Hunter supported her by the waist and stroked her hair back, gently kissing her temple. “I need to explain something.”
“More confessions? I don’t think I can handle any more,” Luxor groaned.
“It’ll be the last, but I have no idea where to start.”
“I need some fresh air, let’s go outside.” Luxor said.
“You are a sucker for pain, aren’t you?” Hunter held underneath her legs and cradled her back and walked towards the balcony. “Hold on.” He jumped up and landed on the balcony banister in one scoop, and before Luxor could protest, he swooped down to the ground.
“What was that? You could have killed me,” she said as he eased her down on the swinging chair, propping a cushion behind her back.
“After all we’ve been through, I’m not going to dignify that with an answer.”
“I’m sorry, I’ve never seen you…I mean how?”
“Another day, Angel,” he said.
“Before you start, explain this mess of a family tree. I found the paper at your house with a whole collection with surnames.” She had tucked the information in the back of her mind to remember to call him up on it. There was no time like the present.
Hunter wrung his fingers within each other as he focused his attention onto the floor.
“Hunter, please.”
He hesitated. “All could have been avoided if Meredith didn’t change your name,” he said softly. “Do you know how Meredith and Steven met?”
“It’s kind of impossible since I’m kept out of the loop with everything.”
Hunter pursed his lips together. “Meredith Sterling and Steven Lockhart were high school sweethearts. They were both interested in medicine, Meredith because she overcome leukaemia as a ten-year-old, Steven because it was expected of him coming from a family of doctors of all calibres. He hated it and wanted a job with power, but stuck with it. That was until his best friend Charles De Havilland came back into the picture. Charles was an up and comer in the District Attorney’s office, the kind where power and privilege is a sure thing. But so is image. He had the trophy wife and a newborn daughter Verity Allegra. When you were born, they had a solution to all their problems. Steven doctored a birth certificate which claimed you as theirs. Meredith refused, wanting to honour your mother’s wishes so a legitimate birth certificate was made, the one she would use when you were ready to know the truth. Until then, you were Ellie Lockhart. A few days later t
hey eloped and everything was official. Meredith wouldn’t have to struggle and Steven had the insta family to show to the world. It took three years to build up a solid image and, in that time, Meredith took care of you in the house you were born in. Once he built himself up, all three of you moved to Hampton Cove where the crème of the crop reside in their fancy houses. By then Meredith and Steven had grown apart but money, power and prestige trumps happiness.”
“My parents were married, at least my surname is a surety,” she said, looking at the silver lining.
Hunter shook his head in dismay. “I’ve researched. No Cane Everstone has ever existed.”
“Are you saying my mum married a man and she didn’t know his name?”
“You saw him, lying is his lowest sin.”
“So, who am I?” Her voice cracked. Again, it had come around to lost identity.
“A name doesn’t define us, you could be John Smith and you’d be the same enigmatic, pain in my ass girl.”
Luxor frowned at his all too optimistic answer. It wasn’t good enough. “Don’t go all Shakespeare on me and say something along the lines of ‘a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.’ What might be unimportant to one could be important to another.”
“Shakespeare’s work is quite impressive, you need to appreciate it,” he surmised. And Luxor scoffed. “Must come with age.”
“Yeah, all four hundred years,” Luxor quipped. She was yet to wrap her mind around the age gap.
“Three hundred and ninety-eight.”
“Same thing.”
“Believe me, it’s not,” he said downcast and simultaneously shuffled his feet.
Luxor wriggled around and angled her body towards him, placing a hand over his. His jitteriness contagious. “How do you know all of this?”
“Castor and Theo worked their mojo. Oh, and extensive research. I figured one day you’d want the whole story of this train wreck,” he said, threading his fingers through his dark hair. “I’m so sorry for what I put you through, no matter how you see it, the blame is on me. My need to know you better blindsided me.”
Luxor couldn’t digest most of his words. Five letters had stunned her into silence. “You, you apologised.”
“Only to you Angel,” Hunter breathed out. A few heartbeats later he lifted his head and corrected his posture. “No matter how much I despise Ayla, you are better off with her. I can’t keep you safe. In the end I’m only human.”
“Sounds like a bad pop song.” She tilted his lips to the side. “What now?”
“Is your house barrier proof?”
“Yeah Ayla did some light voodoo with her hands.”
“It’s a celestial barrier, but light voodoo is a great sum up.” He pushed his palms down by his side and lifted himself up all too quickly. “I better go back to your house to make sure the area is completely de-demonised.”
“Is something wrong?” Luxor held onto him tight forcing him back down, and his forearm tensed up. Hunter shook his head, but refused to look up. Luxor held his chin and forced him to look at her. “Talk to me.”
Hunter clasped his hands in hers, and swallowed hard. “What do you want me to say? If it wasn’t for my selfish needs, I could have told you about him.”
“You even said it yourself, you weren’t even sure he was my father. And if anybody is to blame, it’s me. I was trading you in for my sanity. That’s a low act. I’m not innocent in all of this.” Hunter scratched his arm and remained quiet which she was grateful for. She didn’t want to be let off the hook. Her eyes trailed to where he vehemently scratched at his forearm tattoo. It continued to be a source of fascination; they were vibrant and the images and words no doubt having a deeper meaning than first perceived. After ogling for long enough she asked. "What does 'Woe Is Me' really mean? You never answered when Evie asked at my house.”
"Ahh, very perceptive. Will the intrigue kill you if I refuse to elaborate?"
Yes.
"Nope. Actually, don't worry about it," she said flippantly, her voice in a high lilt.
Hunter smirked, as if seeing through her façade. "There's multiple meanings but I love Shakespeare and it's from Hamlet, Act Three, Scene One to be specific. I'm not getting into exact details, but basically my life has become so bad that there is nothing left in me except sorrow or misfortune. It’s about mourning my past, and wishing to be able to escape to be free and independent,” Hunter snapped out of his musings, and cleared his throat. "Or something to that effect. Very relatable to anyone who's lost.
“In Shakespeare, Ophelia killed herself because her lover killed her father, she had lost everything and couldn't deal with the aftermath of events."
"That's...morbid. How can you relate to that?"
"I've gone through things you could never imagine, and in turn has created a person I'm not proud to be. I'm not a good person Angel, and you've probably figured that out already, but I'm not entirely bad." An agonised expression etched on his features. "I've done stupid things, but it doesn't matter, the mind loves to focus on all the negative actions you've done. Can you imagine reliving the same horrible things you've done, over and over again with perfect precision? Let me tell you it's not a great feeling."
Luxor couldn't contemplate what kind of actions Hunter could have committed to have him in that place mentally. Did killing the possessed weigh on his mind? Or did his past hold darker secrets? Deep inside she had to contain the stranglehold the words had on her, and couldn’t help wondering if more death awaited. And who was next. Time spent in Brighton Falls had shown her she hadn't been truly happy in Hampton Cove, but an iota still missed the easy nature of how her life was.
Hunter shook his head as if to remove any images and cleared his throat. “You need rest. You’re safe, but if you need me, for anything, I’ll be close.”
Luxor wanted him to stay. To hold her. To feel safe in his embrace. But more pressing matters called out to him. Her safety was not above everybody else’s, especially the innocent people of Brighton Falls.
“How sweet,” she ribbed.
“Of course, I could always antagonise you?” He said lightly, but there was no playfulness behind his eyes.
Hunter’s bravado was an act, and he was the master of repressing his emotions and pretending everything was okay. He was chaos encapsulated, lining up the dominoes of lies and deception, and watched the ball roll, bricks tumbling with an almighty crash. As much as she wanted to hate him, she couldn’t. In the end, everything he had done had a legitimate reason. He could have gone about it in a different matter, but would that have prevented the outcome?
“And to back me up. Some way or another I’ll still be in danger. Look what those Habitis did by his command,” she said, confident he would strike again.
Her father was still out there, promising to return. She might have the divine on her side, but she needed humanity to keep her grounded. She needed somebody like him.
“They have been dealt with. Once you were gone, Cane disappeared and soon after, his Habitis were easily disposed of.”
“Will you truly protect me Hunter?” Luxor tilted her eyes up to meet his enchanting toffee coloured eyes, filled with hope.
Hunter lifted her into his lap, enclosing her in an electrified cage, and she relished in the all-consuming sensation. He loosened his grip, scanning her face as if memorising every detail before placing a soft as a feather kiss atop her head. “I promise, nobody will ever hurt you. Ever.”
The nightmare had only begun, and as she stared into the distance, she believed deep in her bones he would keep her safe at any cost. They might not have a plan but they had each other, and tomorrow was a new day.
A new day to hope and worry about the next fight.
A very, very long time ago I had a clear dream about a lost girl whose life had been turned upside down, torn apart by a secret, and her need to uncover her identity. That was all it took to create a story that would take me on my own journey.
This labour of lo
ve, mixed with lots of sleepless night, cramped fingers and tears couldn’t have been made possible with the following people.
My family, mum and pop who constantly asked when I was going to gather the courage to publish, and my sisters Rebecca, Samantha and Jessica who anxiously waited to see if I made them a character. (I did but I’ll let them guess who!). Also, a huge thank-you to my bestie Jason and aunty Shad. All of these important people offered to baby-sit, cook dinner and basically people put up with my anti-socialism and quirks and let me live a lot of the time in La La land. Your understanding and faith in me kept gave me strength, and I wouldn’t have achieved my dream without you all.
To Hunter and Phoenix, my shining stars in this infinite universe. You keep me going when the days are dark, and make my heart swell with a simple smile or hug. You both have no idea how much I love you both, and I hope one day you’ll read this and be proud of me just as I am honoured and proud to be your mother.
To Demet Divaroren, one of my earliest readers, and creative writing teacher. I still hate the word ambiguous and as you can see, you can’t call this hefty novel that anymore.
My developmental editor Jami Nord who gave an in-depth analysis and my all-round Amy Briggs. What can I say Amy, you’re an absolute gem and extraordinary? Your invaluable comments, and attention to detail helped shaped my baby girl and you weren’t afraid to tell it to me straight. I’m so glad I had you join this crazy ride.
My betas Wendy, Jone and Colleen whose feedback helped for me to see my characters from a new perspective.
To my dearest writing besties, the talented N.N. Britt and Samantha Serhan Dennis. You both treated my characters as I did, as if they were real. Your excitement over the latest plot developments, endless advice, support, messages, encouragement. I can’t send enough hugs and kisses.
Unveiled: The Chronicles of Luxor Everstone Page 48
