by J J Marshall
Run, she shouted internally to her legs, but they refused to move.
“Come with me.” A command. Not a question, not a statement, but an order.
“No,” Hanna replied. The woman smiled sadly.
“Come with me,” she repeated again. “And I will keep you safe. We have much to talk about and this house is not safe.”
“And if I refuse?”
“It would not be a wise choice for you to do that dear,” the woman answered simply. Hanna nodded to Orian, focusing her gaze on the captured boy, slumped in the guard’s arms.
“And him? Will he come too? Unharmed?”
“Yes.”
“What about my brother? Can we bring him?” Hanna asked quietly. The woman pursed her lips and slowly nodded.
“The Embassy will find him and make sure he is safe. But right now, we need to get you to safety. Will you come?” Hanna quietly nodded.
“I will come,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. The woman smiled wider, extending her hand to Hanna.
“Wise choice, my dear,” she crooned. Hanna watched the woman’s hand for a moment, not trusting it. But what choice did she have?
“Milosh!” the woman barked, her velvety voice turning ice cold. “Take Orian. Jake, subdue our female guest. We can’t have her seeing where our headquarters are located. Irisi is smart and has eyes on this plane,” she hissed, turning on her heels as she made for the front door. The man she called Jake, appeared before Hanna as she fought to see his features, darkened by the dipping sun. Bright eyes, sharp cheekbones, strong.
“Don’t fight the serum,” Jake said gently, gripping a small needle filled with clear fluid. “You won't be harmed, but we are in a war and what Chancellor Vanderwall says, goes.” Hanna nodded, waiting silently for the sting of the needle. Quick, painlessly, Jake slipped the needle into her vein. She felt her eyes droop, becoming heavier as she faded into a deep, dreamless sleep.
******
Twenty-Seven
Orian
Orian jolted awake, wheezing as the air rushed into his lungs. He rubbed at his red, raw wrists, after spending a night in shackles. He screamed until he could scream no more. His vocal cords ached as he tried to speak, shredding on cue. Now hoarse and out of breath, he waited silently for a guard, for anyone to come see him. His stomach rumbled as he clutched his face in his hands, rubbing furiously at his eyes. Tilting his head back, he rested against the damp stone wall, listening as water echoed from a leak in the ceiling above, somewhere around him. They took her. Hanna. Those bastards!
He blinked several times, confused as his surroundings shifted around him. The walls wavered from their stony appearance becoming white and smooth. The electric hum of lights buzzed overhead as the trickling water faded. His clothes twisted and changed before his eyes, feeling no different, all the same. He was now in a white room, sterile in appearance, dressed in from head to toe in the absent color. Something soft morphed under him, forcing him to straighten. He sat, dangling his feet over the side of a plush bed, when the door to the room slid open. The woman with curly dark hair entered, the same woman from last night. One of his captors. He moved to stand as the woman stopped, eyes wide in front of him. She raised her hand in front of her, halting Orian in place.
“You may stay seated, Orian,” she said gently. Shifting his weight, Orian pushed to his feet.
“I know that I may, but what if I choose not to?” The woman’s lips perked slightly. Her smile looked more like a grimace to him, as if his words had hurt her to the core. He shook his head. How would his question have been that hurtful to some stranger who had kidnapped him and Hanna? And why would he care so much if it did?
“I think we both know what happens when you don’t listen the first time,” she replied, shifting her gaze to the floor. She gnawed at her bottom lip, lost in what Orian could only imagine were her twisted thoughts. Silence hung in the air for several minutes before the woman spoke again. “I came to talk to you about last night. About Hanna, but you kept screaming.” Orian’s body stiffened at the mention of Hanna’s name.
“Where is she? Is she OK? I swear if you scum hurt her, I’ll kill you personally!” he growled. The woman sat down, ignoring Orian’s words, or so he thought and took one of his hands. Orian flinched, pulling his hand away from the vile woman.
“Hanna is okay, resting right now. And you? Are you okay?” She asked, eyes wide and full of concern. Warmth spread through his body, sending signals of relief to his muscles. He sighed as his body started to relax.
Hanna is okay. Sleeping even!
“Why do you care how I’m doing? You didn’t seem to mind when you had me chained to the wall all of last night. You didn’t care as I screamed until my voice broke. Fuck you bitch. Get away from me and get Hanna. We’re leaving!” The woman’s grimace deepened as she shifted uncomfortably from his words. She looked away from him, but did not move.
“Orian, do you know who I am or where we are?” The woman asked again, this time her voice taking on a gentle soft tone.
“No.”
“Then how do you expect to take care of Hanna and yourself if you don’t even know where you are?” Orian remained silent as the words escaped from his tongue. The woman continued. “Orian, what I am about to say is shocking really and please hear me out,” she quietly plead.
“Fine.” The woman smiled slightly before beginning her tale.
“There’s no easy way to say this. So, I guess here it is, I’m your mother.”
“Don’t lie to me. That’s impossible. My mom died fifteen years ago. I was two,” Orian stated. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the woman, studying her face in search of his own features. The woman shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. He watched as she picked at her nails, clearly an unbroken habit, cursing under her breath as they began to bleed red. “Besides, we don’t look alike, related even.”
“I know, you look so much like your father, like a…like a king.”
“Don’t you ever compare me to that monster,” Orian warned. Anger boiled beneath his skin, surging through his veins. He was no monster, that much he was damn sure of.
“Please let me explain,” the woman plead.
“Go on,” Orian said, grinding his teeth to keep his anger under control. Pain seared in his jaw as his muscles tightened once more. He wished for the sweet warmth to come back. If this woman hadn’t brought up Hanna or knew anything about her in that moment, he would have destroyed her, but now was not the time. Not when Hanna was so close. Not when this woman knew so much.
“Nineteen years ago, your father, Irisi, and I married—” his mother’s voice trailed. “Neither of us wanted to marry the other as we both had other loves in our lives, but your grandfather, Mercurial, my father, made a deal with your father. He told Irisi that he would spare his throne and life if he married me and had children. Those children were to be raised with your father’s ideology of Selection Day, to weed out the weak Keepers from the loyal ones. When your father found out my beliefs, to raise both you boys in the old ways, Michael’s ways, he became incredibly upset and, had I not been pregnant with your brother, I would likely have been cast away sooner.
Anyways, nine months later I gave birth to Karsten, a sweet beautiful boy, and shortly after that, became pregnant with you. When you both were no more than three and two years of age, your father approached me with his ideologies again, seeing as Karsten was nearing the ripe age of four. He stated that Karsten would need to learn royal teachings and soon if he was to take the throne one day. I was shocked that teachings happened so young, but when I told your father that I wanted to raise you boys in the ways of the old, he imprisoned me and branded me a traitor. I was brought before the Council of Elders and tried. The Council, my own father, sentenced me guilty of treason against the throne and country. My punishment was to be Death.
This broke not only me, but your father. I could see a darkness taking over in his eyes. Growing devoid of light, of any good t
hat may have been left in his heart. On the eve of my death, I made an escape from my cell, tricking a guard into opening the door. Stupid man,” she chuckled, smiling devilishly at the memory “I ran until my legs nearly gave out through the castle halls until I got to Jacob’s corridors.”
“Jake, my trainer?” Orian asked quietly. Kyrina nodded.
“Yes, He brought me in, consoled me and helped me fake my death. Once I got to Earth, I made a vow to preserve the human life no matter the cost. Jake became my closest confidant, working in both the Earth plane and the Midland. But now we are at war. A war started by your father. And if he hasn’t already joined the Fallen ranks, he likely will soon. And when he does, and he will, The Fallen will destroy us all. This is where Hanna comes into play,” Kyrina paused, biting at her lower lip, she dropped her gaze away from Orian, her hands firmly clasped in her lap. When she finally looked up, Kyrina’s eyes burned into his own. “I believe Hanna is a Forsaken.”
“You too?” Orian croaked, his voice catching in his throat. This was so much to take in. But he remained silent and motioned for his mother to continue.
“I believe Hanna can save the world. She is the last of the Forsaken. They have been extinct for thousands of years. I realized this when she began to go into a trance under observation. I had Milosh hook her up to our advanced technologies and saw her vision first hand for myself. It was brief and I believe that is because of you. Somehow, some way, Hanna is a Forsaken and I believe her blood can save the human race.” Orian blinked for several seconds. Hanna could save the world, Hanna was a forsaken.
I kind of figured as much, he silently thought.
“How can her blood save the world?” he asked. Kyrina paused before continuing.
“Hanna doesn’t need you, which is why your Mark is fading, burning away. She is part angel, and her blood is beckoning your powers. The more time you spend around her, the quicker your Mark will fade. And I know about your Mark,” she said casting her eyes down to Orian’s forearm. “I believe that her blood can neutralize the disease plaguing the human race right now. But we need her permission to harvest and study it. Hanna is our number one priority right now. She is our weapon to taking down the Consortium and taking back the Midland! Will you help us? Will you join our Renegade ranks?” she asked, moving closer on the bed towards Orian. Orian gulped, processing all the information.
“You want to harvest Hanna’s blood?” he asked slowly.
“Yes, to save the rest of this planet.”
“An eye for an eye. That’s how I see this. You want to use Hanna, demoralize her, stick her away in a cell like your own special pet, to be used upon your call. A genie to play at your hand, a weapon to yield as you like. But how is that fair?”
“How is it fair that she steals your powers? How is it fair that the rest of this race gets to die a slow and agonizing death when we have a cure right at our fingertips?”
“A supposed cure!” Orian spat back. “You have no proof. Nothing to back up your hypotheses with! I can’t let you just take Hanna without cause.”
“I have given you cause enough!” His mother growled back, stepping into his space. Her face only inches from his own. “Join my ranks or get out. You will not take Hanna away. The choice is yours. And I suggest you choose wisely this time. There will be no second chances.”
“Fine. I’ll join your ranks. Fight in your army. Play at your bidding. But if you hurt one hair on Hanna, I swear on Michael’s blood that I will kill you.”
“Excellent. Hanna will join us as well.”
“How do you know?” Orian croaked, feeling defeat.
“Because as much as she hides it, you’re her weakness, too,” she said as she rose and exited the room.
******
Twenty-Eight
Hanna
Hanna groaned as she fought against the darkness, against the impending nothing that threatened to suck her under and never let her surface. A calm swept over her, flooding her body in a warm embrace and then her eyelids fluttered open. Her vision was fuzzy, and her body felt strange, strong. She lay in a large, plush sleigh bed, covered in white from head to foot. Everything was devoid of color.
Pure. Strong, like me. She took in a deep breath allowing the faint smell of lavender and honey to ease her quaking nerves as she sat on the edge of the bed, dangling her feet from the side. A large white, fuzzy robe awaited her on a light wooden chair only a few feet away. Her body was bare, naked with the faint smell of lavender and she wondered how she ever managed to get that way. She pushed from the bed with little effort, noting the strength in her simple movements as she landed lightly on the light wooden floor below. She stood in place for a moment, inspecting her bare skin when a cough sounded from the far corner of the room, catching her attention. Her blood ran cold as she froze in place. Bare and exposed, vulnerable. Snapping her eyes towards the cough, a woman in her early forties appeared before her, dressed to the nine in a dark pencil skirt, light pink blouse that ruffled along the neckline and dark black blazer. Her feet were swathed in dark black pumps as she stood. She smirked before speaking.
“I see you’ve healed nicely,” her voice lilted with a faint accent Hanna couldn’t quite place, but she knew the voice. It belonged to the dark figure from the night before. Her eyes widened with realization as the woman moved towards her, circling her before grabbing the white robe, thrusting it toward her. “Dress yourself before my son comes in,” she ordered with clipped words. “He’s been quite the pest this morning, trying to sneak in to see you. Figured I would stay in here myself to make sure he didn't make his way in. He really is enthralled by you. And now I understand why. Dress and then we shall talk. Are you hungry, my dear?”
My dear, the words bit at her, sweet in sentiment but laced in warning. Hanna didn’t understand why she felt that way, but one thing was clear. The curly haired woman did not like her or Orian. Her insides twisted and knotted at the idea more so the words as a loud grumble erupted from her stomach. The woman smiled a toothy smile before turning to her wrist and pressing a button on her bracelet. A small popping noise echoed overhead as a small female voice answered.
“Yes, Chancellor?” she asked.
“Phoebe, please, have Milosh bring up some food for our guest. Three course meal. Then bring my son, please.”
“Yes, Chancellor.” A small ding rang throughout the room as the voice disappeared.
“Hanna, my name is Kyrina Vanderwall, Chancellor here at the Renegade Embassy. I’m in charge of Human and Paranormal Relations. I’ll explain much more to you over breakfast. As for clothes, to your right there will be a silver button, flush against the white walls, push that and an entire wardrobe will be at your fingertips. Your private bathroom is to the left., makeup, and hair products are fully stocked. I’ll leave you to freshen up and will be back when breakfast is served,” she stated, standing. Quietly, Kyrina walked towards the pocket door in the room, leaving Hanna alone to digest her newfound information. Hanna breathed a sigh of relief and pushed the white plush robe from her shoulders, letting it fall gently to the ground.
Finally, alone.
Her skin prickled as goosebumps pebbled along her naked body. She peered over at the gleaming silver button flush against the wall, mocking her.
She rolled her eyes, stumbling over her feet. Smashing her fist on the button, the wall before her opened up into a large walk in closet, filled to the brim with expensive clothes Hanna could never afford.
Must be nice to be rich.
She felt gross, as if she was covered in dirt and grime as she crossed the room and entered the bathroom and drew a bath. The water was foamy and warm against her as she washed up feeling better. It had been only a day since her last vision, but it felt like a lifetime. Closing her eyes, Hanna rested her head against the porcelain tub thinking about the past few days. The smoke, the devastation, the blood, so much blood…and then her eyes shot open as her breath caught in her throat.
Oh. My. God. Every
thing had come true…every last detail. Racing out of the tub she threw the white robe back over her and pushed open the door running right into bright blue eyes. Falling hard, Hanna landed on her backside, letting an audible “Oomph!” to escape her lips. Her robe fell open as Orian stood before her. His eyes widened as a smirk spread across his face. Hanna looked down, noticing her robe as she scrambled to secure it. Blood rushed to her face as it heated.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, extending his hand down for Hanna to grab. Irritated, she slapped it away and used the sink to get her balance. “I’m glad you’re okay. Breakfast is here and—”
“What the fuck are you doing in my room?” Hanna hissed.
“I came to see if you were okay.”
“Clearly I’m fine. Now get out!”
“Hanna I’ve seen you naked before. Just get dressed so that we can talk,” Orian said, matter-of-factly as he took a seat on Hanna’s bed and laid back.
“What do you mean you’ve seen me naked before? When? How? Wait I don’t want to even know how. That is such a breach in privacy—” she trailed off tying off her robe as she ran to the bathroom and threw on a pair of black leggings and a tunic shirt she had selected. She admired how it traveled down past her waist. Fucking perv can’t stare at my ass now. She smirked as she left the bathroom and sat down beside Orian.
In front of her was a tray of pancakes, bacon, strawberries, apple slices and toast. Her stomach grumbled again.
“Go ahead and eat. I’ll talk, you listen. My mother will be joining us via teleconference, whatever that means,” he said. Hanna nodded hardly registering Orian’s words and began to eat as her stomach grumbled loudly. The food was so good, blending and melting in her mouth, so many flavors. Orian turned to face her.