Shades of Human (Faerie-Tail Awakening Book 1)

by J. L. Myers

  Shades of Human

  Faerie-Tail Awakening, Book 1

  J.L. Myers

  Contents

  MORE BOOKS BY J.L. MYERS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Thank you for reading!

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  Connect with J.L. Myers

  About the Author

  MORE BOOKS BY J.L. MYERS

  THE BLOOD BOUND SERIES

  (New Adult Paranormal Romance)

  What Lies Inside

  Made By Design

  Web Of Lies

  Born To Die

  ~

  FALLEN ANGEL SERIES

  Ashes of Eden

  Dawn of Reckoning

  Breaking Lucifer

  Cold-Blooded Fate

  Falling Stars

  ~

  FAERIE-TAIL AWAKENING SERIES

  Shades of Human

  Shades of Fae (Coming 2020)

  ~

  OTHER BOOKS

  Nerve Damage

  (A Chilling Psychological Thriller)

  Copyright © 2019 J.L. Myers

  The moral right of the author had been asserted.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved

  No part of this literary work may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, taping and recording, without prior written permission from the author J.L. Myers.

  Cover art © 2019 J.L. Myers.

  Visit the Website:

  www.jlmyers.com

  Chapter One

  “Mamma, slow down!” I struggled to get the words out as I gasped for air and tears streamed down my face. I cried out at how hard Mamma clung to my wrist. My shoulder hurt as she dragged me on faster, my aching legs struggling to keep up. I tripped on my shoelaces as Mamma tugged me down a dark laneway and tall warehouse buildings rose up all around us. When she looked back and I saw her face, I trapped my begging inside and tried to run faster.

  Mamma’s cheeks were wet from tears. The way her wide eyes darted in every direction made my chest feel like someone was knocking hard and fast from inside. “Please, Calliope. Just keep running.” Mamma was scared. I’d never seen her scared, and that made it even worse.

  I tried to keep up as the shifting clouds spilled moonlight down over us like a spotlight. Mamma yanked me sideways to miss a glossy puddle that had turned cloudy as ice rippled in from the edges, and I couldn’t keep my cry of pain and shock inside. She flung her head side to side, eyes searching, then spun around and pulled me into her arms. “Sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. But we can’t…” Her head twisted sideways, fear making her turn pale at what she saw. I tried to look back, but she gathered me up in her arms before I could see through her flailing hair into the dark behind us. “We have to go. Now.”

  With my legs wrapped around her waist and my arms slung around her neck and holding on for dear life, she shot up fast and kept running. “Don’t look back, baby.” She cradled my head to her neck, her long waves sheltering me like a protective cocoon. “Just hold on.”

  Down the dark laneway, she darted to one side then the other, zigzagging to miss puddles as snow crystals formed hard disks of ice across their tops. Mamma’s body was hot and her skin was wet. Her long auburn hair stuck to her sweaty neck and got in my face. I blew it out, loosening my hold to clamp back on higher—and caught a glimpse over Mamma’s shoulder.

  A shadow appeared through the eerie beams of moonlight, coming out of the mist that swirled behind us like it was rising up out of the ground. Dark and gangly, it almost looked like a person. But it wasn’t. Even my inexperienced four-year-old eyes knew that. It moved like the wind, coming after us at impossible speed.

  “Mamma, it follows—”

  Mamma let out a small scream, tripping and then falling. I cried out too, seeing the dark buildings tilt around us and losing sight of the thing that chased after us. Mamma twisted at the last moment, landing on her side and protecting me from being squished. I scrambled up fast, and she pushed me away. “Go. Run!”

  Mamma grunted and kicked one leg, shoving me out from beside her. But I couldn’t get my little legs to move or my pudgy arms to push me up. My eyes stared, too wide as my chest pumped with breaths that hurt. Mamma had slipped on a big icy puddle—a puddle that a boney black hand had burst through to claw into my Mamma’s ankle.

  “Mamma!”

  “Calliope now!”

  “No.” I cried harder as the hand pulled on her leg, dragging her back along the wet gravelly ground, breaking the top layer of the puddle open like a mouth of cloudy white teeth that wanted to swallow my Mamma alive. Her foot disappeared beneath the black water. “Don’t leave me.”

  I was four, and I had never been without her. She was all I had. I couldn’t make myself run away from her. So I grabbed her hand instead, tugging as hard as I could. Mamma’s tears streamed down her blotchy face faster, but she didn’t tell me to go. A moment of stillness passed as she looked into my eyes, and then something shifted. Her fear melted away and that look she got when someone told her something wasn’t possible, or that they couldn’t help us took its place.

  “You can’t have her!” She screamed again, but this time it was with anger rather than shock or fear.

  Keeping hold of my hand, she clung to a small divot in the asphalt. At the same time, she kicked her free foot down into the puddle. The knee of her pants tore open as her leg plunged in deep, disappearing all the way up to her thigh. She kicked again, and again, and again, drenching her blouse and splashing our faces…and then her other leg pulled up fast.

  Rushing up, Mamma ignored her bleeding knee and scooped me up into her dirty, wet arms. “Come on, baby.”

  Sprinting, Mamma cut down a narrow side street and didn’t stop running until she had come around a few more bends. Keeping me close to her body with one arm, she darted over a rickety footbridge. She stopped suddenly in a vacant lot and shoved at a rusted warehouse door. It squeaked open and then clapped shut, stealing the moonlight and replacing it with darkness. “Where are we, Mamma?”

  “Shhh.” Mamma didn’t stop or creep slowly in the dark. She moved just as fast as outside, rushing around big shadows that looked like giant crates and machinery.

  An open area appeared, too big and quiet. My arms prickled and a chill made me shiver. “Mamma, where are we?” I whispered again.

  Mamma rushed on, hugging me closer as she carried me to the metal stairs that ran up one side of the wall. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, her voice so quiet I leaned back to see her lips moving. “You need to listen to me.” She climbed the stairs quickly, brushing her hair back from her wet face to look into my eyes. “Whatever happens, never listen to the voices. Never ask for help. And never accept anything fro
m them, okay?”

  “Who is them?” I tried to see her face properly, but the climbing kept jostling me around, and then I saw something below. Through the small windows up in the roof, a tiny bit of light shone down onto a drum that was tipped on its side with a puddle of oily stuff that had leaked out. “Mamma…” I trembled at the creak of forming ice as I saw more than a hand splinter out of the oily ground. A head, second arm, then a skinny black body followed, climbing out of the concrete like it was a hole to another world.

  I choked on trembling words, “It finds us.”

  Mamma gripped the railing and whirled, her arm around me tightening—right as a spark of ice blue shot from the monsters claw-like hands right at us. It hit the railing before Mamma could let go, exploding into a rain of blue sparks that looked like magical fireworks. The flimsy bar cut straight through and gave way, bending out like it was as soft as a red licorice Twizzler.

  And then we fell.

  Mamma screamed and brought her other arm around me, hugging me tightly as she twisted in the air—“Oomph”—to land flat on her back.

  On her chest, the impact was brutal, but only a small knock of pain registered where my feet smacked the ground to one side of Mamma. But the whack I heard wasn’t from my feet. Pushing up, I looked down and saw glossy red pooling out from beneath Mamma’s head. She gasped, her eyes half closed. I reached out to touch the growing pool, and my hand came away sticky with red. Blood. “Mamma?” Tears made everything look blurry, and my chest hurt as I cried and tried to breathe, but I looked anyway. Around us, nothing was lingering in the darkness, nothing standing by the oily puddle. The scary monster was gone. I looked back at Mamma, my tears falling down to splash on her face. “Mamma, please. Get up. I need you stand up. I scared.”

  A smile stretched Mamma’s lips, revealing patchiness covering her white teeth. More blood. The puddle around her head kept getting bigger, creeping towards me. “I’m sorry, baby,” her words were slow and raspy. Her hand as she reached up to cup my wet face was soft and gentle. “I wanted to protect you. I did everything I could to keep you safe. But I failed. My wish came back to haunt me. A wish that gave me you, and one I can never regret because of that. But it is time for you to forget until the time comes. It is time for me to go…”

  “Mamma, no. Don’t leave me.” My small hands left bloody prints on her chest as I clutched at her dirty blouse. “Please. Get up, please. I will run faster. I wil—”

  “Shhh, baby. This is not your fault.” Her voice grew quieter. “But I need you to listen to me.” Her other hand shifted down her still body, disappearing into her pocket. “Do you remember what I told you on the stairs?”

  “No. I don’t want to. Don’t leave. Mamma, please—”

  “Calliope Rivers,” the way she said my name made me sniff and wipe away my tears, smearing the red wetness from my hands over my cheeks. That was Mamma’s angry voice, the one that meant I needed to stop what I was doing and listen very carefully. The one that would end with a hug and an, I love you, my little princess. “Do you remember what I said?”

  “No listen to voices. No ask for help.”

  “Good girl,” Mamma gasped, her smile spilling a stream of blood from the corner of her mouth. “And stay away…from…mirrors. Don’t look…at…them. Ever. And don’t…give…your…song.”

  “Why, Mamma? Why?” I tried not to cry, but the tears came anyway as a scary glaze made Mamma’s wet eyes shine. “No, Mamma. Don’t go. Please, Mamma. I will be good. I will learn shoelaces and eat crusts! I don’t want to be alone.”

  Mamma smiled and more red leaked out of her mouth. Her hand came up in a fist and she held it between our faces. “You will never be alone.” Her fingers uncurled and she blew a weak breath over her upturned palm. A cloud of gold sparkles lifted, coating my face and neck. I coughed, getting some in my mouth. “Truth clouded, innocence sheltered. Hide the horror to come with the seal of my love.” She hummed the tune to my special song but gasped a short breath before she could finish. “I love you…my litt…”

  I stopped breathing, fighting away the coughs that made my throat tickle. Mamma’s words, the ones that always came with a hug, had stopped. Staring down at her, the way her face went still looked so wrong. Her chest beneath me no longer moved up and down, and I slid off quickly in case I was hurting her. “Mamma?” She didn’t move or speak, and I swiped at the hot tears in my eyes to see her eyes clearly. They were staring up at the rafters of the warehouse, not moving, not…alive. “Mamma?” The tears flooded back as I grabbed her shoulders, shaking her as hard as my small bloody hands would allow. “Mamma! Mamma, no. Wait. Mamma, please. Don’t leave. My hug. Mamma, please. My hug. I need my hug. Mamma. Mamma!”

  This was my final memory of my mother. But none of it was real. There was no monster. No body. No death—yeah right!

  Chapter Two

  The sound of my childhood screams ripped me from sleep. I bolted upright in my seat, throwing my long hair back in an arc. My face throbbed from the indents my hands had left with my head pressed down on the hard desk, and my breathing was rapid. My heart raced, and sweat stuck strands of my fiery hair to my cheek and neck. Tears pricked my eyes, threatening to release a dam of waterworks to paint a picture of the grief I had never overcome. “Not real. Not real,” I chanted as the weight of someone’s eyes bored into me, igniting my fear that my nightmare had finally become a reality. And then I realized where I was. Oh, goodie. Fifth time this week.

  Every student in my occult studies class, including my glaring teacher, stared at me. A sea of eyes filled the stadium-like seating that ran in curved rows from one side of the room to the other with two sets of stairs down either side. And yet that watchful sensation wasn’t elicited by of any of them. “Am I boring you, Calli Rivers?”

  “Ah…” Despite knowing where I was and that I was safe, my voice shook as wildly as my hands. I could still see wet crimson smeared across my palms. Her blood. It’s all in your head. My face blazed red-hot. “N-no, sorry. I…I gotta go.” I snatched up my laptop and backpack and vaulted out into the aisle. Racing up the steps, I fled the many staring faces I knew well, each one belonging to a student I had never spoken to. Never listen to the voices. Never ask for help. Mom’s dying words played like a broken record in my head, a promise that I had never betrayed, not even once, to this day.

  I tripped on the last few steps as a guy to the left vaulted up and lunged toward the aisle. My head snapped up fast, my arm around my laptop tightening and my other flinging out to catch me before I made a real dick of myself. Too late. But then I saw him as he grabbed my wrist to help me up.

  Tall and jaw-droppingly handsome didn’t even begin to cover it.

  This guy was flawless, skin perfect, thick caramel bedhead-styled hair, and a facial structure that would make every Edward Cullen fan drool like a Saint Bernard. He was a complete stranger, and as my entire body hummed with heat, I knew that watchful sensation had been his doing.

  Sexonlegs didn’t speak a word, his ocean blue eyes drilling into me as his kissable lips pressed into an aggressive straight line. The stubble across his face only made him look even more enticing, adding an irresistible edge to his wavy hair that reached his shoulders. I was mesmerized, frozen, and being a complete weirdo!

  “If you are done disrupting my class…”

  Mr. Callaghan’s voice bellowing up from the long desk down the steps brought me out of my head. I tugged my wrist away from Sexonlegs and straightened as his eyes darted in the opposite direction as if looking for another interruption. Shaking some sanity back into my head—had I seriously been crushing on this guy that had been all but glaring at me?—I shoved past him and burst out through the doors.

  As I took off down the hallway, a squeak made me glance over my shoulder—Sexonlegs was right behind me, his black hunting boots announcing his about-face to take after me.

  With a body built for sport, he looked nothing like the regular nerds and outcasts that took o
ccult studies. His eyes shimmered gold as his head snapped up from staring at the shimmering aquamarine tattoo along his inner forearm. His eyes landed on me, their familiar color tempting me to trust him. But his nostrils flaring with anger as he looked me over from head to toe in my torn jeans, decrepit shoes, and suddenly way-too-tight-for-his-ogling-stare Breaking Benjamin T-shirt killed that stupid urge. His jaw clenched and his eyes shot sideways as if he’d heard something. Then he swiftly turned, seeming to suddenly realize he needed to head in the opposite direction and away from me. Weirdo! The luminescent lights caught on something that he tugged from his waistband as he spun away. And he’s packing an effing knife?

  A shiver danced up my spine, making the hairs across my nape stand on end. I had a seriously bad feeling about this. My spidey senses were jumping off the Richter scale. I backed away slowly at first, watching him stroll down the hallway—and no I wasn’t checking out his tight ass in the molded jeans he wore. His head twisted to one side, that shimmer returning to his eyes as he cracked a sly smile. And yeah—that was a freaking knife!

  The weapon was a thing of nightmares and similar to the ones I’d read about in supernatural books over the years. A full-on fantasy dagger. Sporting a black handle, it gleamed blue under the fluorescent lights. Serrated indents ran up along one side to make the encounter more bloody. And it was as long as a forearm and curved for maximum damage.