by S. L. Watson
Last Descendants
Vitarian Chronicles Volume 2
S. L. Watson
Copyright © 2021 by S. L. Watson
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either produced of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
S. L. Watson
www.slwatsonauthor.com
ISBN 978-1-954440-02-9 (print) ISBN 978-1-954440-03-6 (hardcover) ISBN 978-1-954440-05-0 (ebook)
Cover Design by Rena Violet
For my Family. You are my rock, my compass, and my inspiration. I love you infinity times infinity infinities forever!
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
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Also by S. L. Watson
About the Author
Connect With S. L. Watson
Acknowledgments
1
As the students settled into their Nadi Shodhana, I held the burning sage high while I circled the room, contacting each unique energy field. The pungent smoke filled my nostrils and clung to my skin as sweat trickled down my body. Deep exhalations of expelled energy whirled, forming into dark shapes. The more toxic the energy, the more hostile it became once outside the body. The energy hovered above, struggling to reconnect with its hosts, but its attempts were useless now that it was trapped in my protected space.
I continued to circle the room, weaving the earthy smoke into the air. There were always one or two students in every class who couldn’t release the soul-draining energy that leeched off them, and they needed extra assistance. I sensed this resistance now as I stopped in front of a shaking young woman. Her aura was dim and webbed with black tendrils. A whimper escaped her lips as she sat in her pose, unable to free herself. Heat burned in my stomach. This darkness had leeched off the poor girl for so long that it’d tangled her aura into a knotted mess.
“Very good,” I called out to the class. “Continue to let the energy flow through you with each exhalation.” I bent down near the shaking student and placed my hand on her back and corrected her spine upright from her hunched position. “It’s okay,” I told her. “Just let it out.” I closed my eyes and drew the heavy darkness from her as I stood. It resisted, but its fight was futile against my power.
The young woman stopped shaking as her body relaxed into the pose, and her aura immediately brightened. Silent tears slid down her cheeks as I moved away to give her space. It was time to cleanse the rest of the room of the hot energy soaring above the group.
“Now, on your next exhalation, allow any remaining toxic or negative feelings to flow away from you. Feel the energy traveling down your arms and flowing out through your fingertips. Once you’ve done this, place your palms flat against your heart and imagine a bright protective light shielding you.”
I set the burning sage onto a plate and headed to the back of the room. The air became dense and nearly tangible with dark, menacing tendrils that swarmed together to resist my power. One by one, I drew each tendril from the swarm and into my own biofield, where the energy dissipated upon contact.
Exhaustion settled over me as relieved sighs mingled with tears spread across the room. The group had no idea what I’d just done; they only sensed they’d suddenly been released from the burden of something toxic and heavy weighing on them. It was normal for pent-up emotions to follow the expulsion of dark energy.
“Now, gently lower your hands and elbows onto the mat, and push back into Child’s Pose, stretching your arms and fingertips out in front of you, and resting your forehead on the floor. As your hips relax down toward the—”
Before I could finish, the door to the studio swung open, and a blast of cold air hit the room. I glanced to see who’d ignored the Hot Yoga in Session sign hanging on the door.
“Oh, wow! Did I interrupt? Phew! The smell in here could rival a boys’ sweaty gym locker room.” The intruder waved her hand across her nose.
I swallowed my irritation and pasted a friendly smile on my face. “We’re just finishing up our session. I’ll be right with you.”
She quirked her eyebrow like she wasn’t used to being dismissed, and smoothed her flat-ironed platinum hair. The humidity in the room was causing it to frizz.
That’s what she gets for ignoring the sign.
My gaze landed on the basket dangling at her side. I recognized it as the one I’d packed with my homemade candles, tea, and honey, and left with the front-desk attendant of the new yoga studio across the street. Was this the new owner of the studio? And why was she carrying the gift I’d left her?
I shrugged away my curiosity for now and turned my attention back to the class. “On your next inhalation, slowly push yourself up and come to standing. Take a deep breath as you lift your arms over your head and release into prayer. Namaste.”
“Thank you, Everly,” said the students in unison.
The haughty girl stood giving me dagger eyes as I walked around the room answering individual questions. She definitely wasn’t used to being made to wait.
I smiled inwardly at her obvious annoyance as I meandered my way toward her.
Molly marched to my side, flicking her sweaty ponytail just as we reached the girl.
“You didn’t see the Do Not Disturb sign before you barged in, interrupting our class?” Molly demanded before I could get out a word.
“I must have missed it.” The girl brushed at her arm as if wiping away something offensive.
“Mm—hmm,” Molly hummed.
I gave Molly an appreciative wink and interjected before any claws were bared. “I’m sorry. Is there something I can help you with?”
Her green eyes raked me over. “You’re Everly?” The girl lifted the basket and set it on the front desk, next to us.
I nodded. “You must be Bree. I see you got my welcome package.” I smiled.
She didn’t return the gesture. “I won’t be using these things, so I’m returning them.”
“Oh, okay,” I responded, taken aback. How odd.
“See you tomorrow, Everly.” Some of the students waved as they stacked their yoga mats and headed out of the front door.
I waved back, then turned my attention back to Bree, giving her a more thorough look-over. Her clothes were likely designer by the look of the finely tailored threads, and the glossy, pointed red stilettos she wore begged to catch an eye. I wondered what had brought someone like her to our rural town of St. Helens, Oregon. She looked to be in her early twenties, maybe a year or two older than Molly and me. But where we preferred hanging out at my mom’s café, drinking tea and chatting about books and recipes, Bree had the air of someone who preferred big-city life and nightclubs. Yet she had opened a yoga studio here. Why?
“You’re returning a gift?” Molly stepped in, her tone peeved.
“Who’s returning a gift?” Darion asked, coming up behind Bree and positioning himself next to Molly.
Bree’s eyes widened and then turned calculating as she took Darion in. “I’m Bree.” She extended her hand. Her tone flipped a complete one-eighty when she addressed Darion.
“Pleasure.” Darion gently took her hand and then released it
quickly. He’d been trying hard this last year to get past his distaste of common human gestures. Handshaking was one of them. Most Vitarians weren’t fond of the hand-to-hand greeting.
Molly narrowed her eyes at Bree. “Bree here is returning the welcome gift that Everly gave her.”
Darion glanced at the basket. He reached in and pulled out the candle I’d made, and popped the lid off. “Hmm …” He breathed in deeply. “Patchouli and lavender. My sister makes the finest candles in town.” He peered into the basket. “And is that your baby’s breath honey?” He plucked the jar out.
Bree watched Darion hungrily. “There must have been a misunderstanding. I was actually bringing the basket over to thank Everly,” Bree backstepped. “I love candles and honey.” She smiled only at Darion.
Molly huffed. “You said you weren’t going to be using them and were returning them.” She stomped her foot.
“Back off,” Bree hissed at Molly, edging closer to Darion and slipping the candle and jar of honey out of his hands and into hers. “Maybe you’d like to come over to my studio and share the basket with me?” Her teeth grazed her bottom lip. “I’ll put together a cheese plate to pair with the honey.” Her unnaturally long lashes fluttered as her eyelids drooped with hidden meaning.
“Studio?” Darion’s brow quirked with curiosity.
Molly’s face fell when Darion didn’t move away from Bree, but he seemed entertained by her invitation. Unable to resist an opening for a snarky retort, Molly added, “Bree’s the owner of the new yoga studio across the street, Bree’s Yoga. You know, like the smelly cheese.”
I stifled a giggle while Bree rolled her eyes.
“Actually,” Bree said. Her tone had pitched up an octave. “It’s B-r-e-e, as in a hot summer breeze.” She trailed her finger across Darion’s arm.
He watched her hand skim his skin without a hint of emotion, while Molly’s face flushed the color of a fire truck.
Heat flared inside me, and before I could rein it in, the jar of honey cracked open, and honey oozed out all over Bree’s hand and dripped down onto the hardwood floor.
Bree screeched and dropped the jar and candle to the floor. Shards of glass and globs of honey scattered at our feet. “What did you put in that honey?” Bree demanded.
“We’ll grab some towels,” said a student who’d been locking up her equipment in one of the personal lockers I had for rent. Another student came running over with the broom and started sweeping the glass into a pile.
I folded my arms to hide the tremble that had taken hold. I couldn’t think of what to say and just stared at the broken glass on the floor. Luckily, Molly was quick to reply to Bree’s accusation. “You probably cracked the glass, the way you swung the basket up on the counter.”
“Whatever,” Bree snapped. “Just fetch me something to get this sticky mess off.”
“I’m so sorry,” I muttered. “I’ll grab you some wet towels.” I spun away and ran to grab some fresh towels from the supplies shelf.
Darion followed me to the sink. “I saw the look in your eye,” he whispered in my ear. “It’s Siobhan’s magic. You need to learn to use it instead of stuffing it away. You could’ve injured her.”
“Oh, look who’s talking,” I whispered back. “I have it under control, Darion.”
“I can see that,” he taunted. “And all this dark energy you’re siphoning from your students every day isn’t doing you any favors.”
I turned on the faucet and stuffed the towels under the tepid water. “Drop it, Darion. It won’t happen again. And I’m helping people with what I do here.”
His mouth quirked up into his usual sly grin. “Okay, sister, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Fire burned in my chest, and water sprayed upward from the faucet unnaturally. I huffed in exasperation.
Darion didn’t say a word, but the look on his face gave away his thoughts. He raised an eyebrow and strolled away as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.
“Here.” I handed Bree the warm towels.
She didn’t say thanks.
“So, what’s the name of your studio mean?” she asked as she wiped at her hands and eyed the students who’d helped clean up the broken glass and spilled honey.
The unfriendly glares she was giving people weren’t going to help her business. If she planned to have anyone signing up for her classes in this town, she’d need a warmer approach, but I doubted any advice from me would be welcome, or from anyone else she considered gum under her heel.
I kept my other thoughts to myself and just answered her question. “Pranayama,” I said. “It means ‘extension of life force.’”
Molly clicked her tongue. “Pranayama is a type of yoga that focuses on breath work. How can you not know that if you’re a yoga instructor?”
Molly made a good point. I let my guard down and scanned Bree’s energy as she answered.
Bree glared at Molly. “My studio is a more modern version of today’s yoga.”
Her responses were snotty, and her vibes capricious, and without a doubt volatile. But I didn’t pick up any indicator she wasn’t telling the truth.
Molly placed her hand on her hip. “Modern? Have you ever even practiced yoga?”
“Okay.” Darion stepped in. “Molls, let’s go get that breakfast we talked about.” He pulled Molly in by the waist, and she gave Bree a hot smile as she sauntered off with Darion.
“So, are those two, like, a thing or something?” Bree asked me, glancing one last time at Darion.
I watched Molly and Darion make their way out to the street, arm in arm, and wondered the same question.
“Or something,” I mumbled, not sure myself what was going on between Darion and Molly these days. They’d been spending more and more time together over the last year and seemed to have grown close, but neither one would admit to being more than friends.
A familiar bark drew my attention back toward the door, which had been left propped open. Luna came catapulting in and slid across the floor. She barely came to a halt as she jumped up and licked my face. I laughed and held her paws as I guided her back down onto all fours. My entire body relaxed in Luna’s presence.
“Oh my God!” Bree stumbled back. “Where did that beast come from?”
I struggled to keep a straight face, looking at the expression Bree had plastered on hers. You’d think a dragon had just burst into the room spitting fire, instead of a boisterous dog.
“Bree, this is my German shepherd, Luna.”
Luna regarded Bree skeptically but offered her a warm welcome by bouncing over and licking Bree’s hand. She must have smelled the scent of sweet honey on Bree’s fingers. She sat and looked up at Bree with her big brown eyes and goofy dog smile.
For a flicker of a second, it looked like Bree might reach out and pet Luna, but then she seemed to rein in her softening expression and returned to her cool countenance with a tone to match.
“You let animals in your studio?” She scrunched up her face at Luna and took a step back, folding her arms across her chest.
Luna ignored Bree’s unfriendly demeanor as she pranced back toward the door and cheerfully yelped.
“Luna isn’t just any animal. Are you, girl?” Jasper walked into view and bent down, giving Luna a good full-body scratching while Luna’s leash dangled over his shoulder.
Bree’s eyes trailed over his long body as he stood and ran his hand through his dark-cocoa waves.
I didn’t miss the way her eyes lingered on his biceps before she finally drew her attention upward.
Luna licked Jasper’s hand and darted toward the few remaining students, who always stayed after class to help clean up the supplies for the next class.
“I haven’t seen you before,” Jasper said to Bree. “Are you a new student?”
Bree’s cheeks brightened with a hint of crimson. “I’m Bree” was all she said, and she coughed to clear her throat. Her aura turned a shade of red to match her cheeks. She was nervou
s. A feeling she probably wasn’t used to experiencing.
I jumped in before Bree’s silence could get any more awkward. “Bree, this is my best friend, Jasper.” I turned my attention to Jasper. “Jasp, this is Bree. She just opened the new yoga studio across the street.”
The anxious energy surrounding Bree relaxed a bit, and for the first time since she’d walked into my studio, her expression softened with gratitude. Maybe there’s more behind that snobbish exterior after all.
“You don’t look small-town. Are you a transplant?” Bree asked Jasper.
Okay, I guess I’m wrong. Maybe she’s just as vain as she seems.
Jasper’s expression twisted with confusion. “Transplant?” He glanced my way, and I shrugged.
“You know,” Bree said. “Did you move here from California or something?”
Jasper’s amber eyes met mine for an instant, and we shared a hidden smile. If Bree had known where we were both really from, she’d have run screaming from the building.
Jasper winked at me before answering Bree’s question. “Not a transplant. Born and raised in our beautiful small town.” His answer was a part truth.
“Not to be rude,” he continued, appraising Bree’s haughty posture, “but why would you open a yoga studio across from an existing one? Everyone who takes yoga in this town already comes to Ev’s studio.”
Bree recovered from her bout of nervousness, and without missing a beat, she flipped her hair and answered, “Well, I’m sure Ev won’t mind if people want to try something a little less … traditional.” She flicked her hand around the room and batted her eyelashes at Jasper. She huffed when she didn’t get the reaction she was hoping for.
Bree was definitely not Jasper’s type although, based on my brief interactions with her, I guessed she’d find it hard to believe she wasn’t anyone’s type.