Never, Never

by Michelle Areaux

  Copyright

  Never, Never is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  NEVER, NEVER: A NOVEL

  Copyright © 2020 by Michelle Areaux

  All rights reserved.

  Editing by KP Editing

  Cover Design by KP Designs

  - www.kpdesignshop.com

  Published by Kingston Publishing Company

  - www.kingstonpublishing.com

  The uploading, scanning, and distribution of this book in any form or by any means—including but not limited to electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the permission of the copyright holder is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized editions of this work, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  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

  Extras

  About the Author

  About the Publisher

  Prologue

  “Once upon a time, in the middle of a dark, dark forest was a small cabin. It was protected by the trees and wildlife that lurked within the walls of the very woods in which they lived. Inside that cabin lived two boys. They were Lost boys, with no parents and no one to watch out for them. They had eternal life and only answered to the stars above them. They flew through the sky at night, looking for other lost souls who needed their guidance to the North Star,” grandmother said.

  “Grandmother, why are you telling me this story?” I asked.

  “My dear granddaughter, this is no story. This is the true story of the Lost Boys,” she insisted, a warm smile covering her face.

  Even in my five-year-old mind, I knew she was telling me a tale. Something she made up from a fairy tale she knew. There was no such thing as a Lost Boy. There weren’t boys flying through the sky at night; it just wasn’t true.

  “Grandmother, you are so funny. Tell me another story,” I insisted, my little body scooting closer to her on the old, worn couch.

  Patting me on the hand, my grandmother wrapped me in her arms and held me as we watched the fire blaze before us. It was a cold winter night and light snowflakes were falling from the night sky. I loved when I got to spend time with my grandmother. It was far and few between, but we always made the best of our time when we had it. What I loved the most was the stories she would tell me. Each one consisted of mythical creatures, supernatural villains, and fantastic beasts only found in fairy tales. More than anything, I loved how animated she would become when she told me these tales. It was as though they were true and she had seen them in real life. But that wasn’t possible, she was just a great storyteller.

  “My dear child, fairy tales are only fiction if you don’t believe. Trust me, one day you will discover there is more magic in the world than you ever could have imagined,” she said.

  And then, she began telling me another wildly fantastic story. I listened on with intent and eagerness, while secretly wishing that these stories could somehow be true.

  Chapter 1

  Willow

  The smell of death filled the air.

  As I stood by the chrome casket, I politely nodded my head and accepted the condolences as was to be expected. Only, inside my head, I was silently screaming and freaking out. How was I going to continue on now?

  I dared a glimpse at my grandmother, laying peacefully in her casket. As much as I knew it was her time to go-- that she deserved to have eternal rest after taking care of so many people her entire life-- I still wished she were alive.

  But, things don’t change because you want them to. Of course, that was something I had learned the hard way my entire life. Now, it was solidified in death, staring right back at me in the form of my grandmother.

  I swear, almost everyone who lived in Shady Oaks was present at this funeral. For such a small town, I wasn’t that shocked that so many people came to pay their respects. My grandmother had grown up in Shady Oaks. Born and raised here, she and my grandfather owned a large farm on the outskirts of Shady Oaks. My grandmother, Evelyn, had worked as a nurse just outside of Shady Oaks, Kentucky. She also helped orphaned children find homes. She seemed to dedicate her life to those living in and around Shady Oaks. I never understood her desire to remain here her entire life, or my parents for that matter. It was just a normal small town to me. I wished I could go back and do things differently for all of them, but I can’t.

  My parents had met in Shady Oaks and decided to stay. My mom taught English at the local high school, and my dad owned a small auto mechanic shop in the heart of downtown Shady Oaks. I didn’t understand their desire to continue living in the same town where they were raised, but it was their choice. When I graduated high school, I was going to leave this place and never look back. Whenever I asked why they never left, they all just told me Shady Oaks was a special place; and one day, I would understand. I’m seventeen and I still don’t get it.

  Sure, Shady Oaks was a peaceful and beautiful place to live. But it wasn’t what I wanted. I dreamed of big city lights and bustling streets. I wanted more than a small-town feel.

  “Willow, how are you doing?” my mom asked, as she sniffed and wiped a tear from her eye.

  I reached out and hugged my mom. She had been holding up pretty well for someone who was about to bury their mother. I dreaded the thought of having to do the same one day.

  “I’m fine, mom. How are you?” I asked.

  “I’m holding up. Your father is checking with the funeral home director to see when they want to begin,” she said, her eyes searching for my dad.

  Just as she said that, my dad appeared and offered her a sympathetic smile. “Honey, everyone is ready,” he said, escorting us to our seats in the front row of the funeral home.

  The funeral home and morgue were all within this old, Victorian Style home. A large, black gate shielded the strange building from the rest of the outside world. Almost as if they only welcomed death.

  My grandmother had helped the current owner of the funeral home open this place many years ago. He was one of the children she had helped during her time at the hospital and working with the orphanage. Along with his brother, they run this place. One of the guys, was only my age, but he helped out during funeral services. The place was beautiful, but very creepy if you asked me. Everything was so dark and old looking; I guess it fit the vibes of death perfectly.

  We took our seats and listened as the local church choir sang a few songs. Next, my mother gave a beautiful and emotional eulogy. Finally, the service concluded and everyone retreated to the parlor where light refreshments were being held. My grandmother had requested to be cremated after her funeral ceremony. So, there would be no burial. Everyone began walking through a set of glass doors leading into the parlor room. I waited in the back, not excited to be crammed into yet another room with people who looked at me with sad eyes.

  Micah, the Funeral Director, nodded his way as everyone passed by him. Thankfully, he didn’t see me slowly walking backwar
d.

  Just as I was about to walk through the doors, hushed voices arguing caught my attention.

  Glancing into the parlor, I spotted my parents busy mingling with people. I took this opportunity to be nosy. I walked quietly through a doorway that led to a long, dark hallway. The voices sounded angry as I continued walking. I stopped when I reached the door, partly ajar so only a yellow light filtered out into the hallway.

  Making sure no one could see me; I inched my way around the doorframe so that I could see inside.

  A guy with slick black hair and pale skin stood in what looked like a morgue. I instantly recognized him as Emmett from school. I knew he worked here, but I just assumed he handed out pamphlets or something during services-- not actually in the morgue. Yuck!

  A wall of silver drawers large enough to house a body lined the far back wall. Three silver autopsy tables were in the center of the room with trays filled with medical tools on them. The scent of formaldehyde and smoke burned my nostrils and I thought I might gag.

  I listened harder, trying to see what was going on inside this dark and creepy room. I knew it was wrong. I had been raised better than to snoop on people, but something about the urgency of the voices called to me.

  Suddenly, I heard a second voice and my heart stopped. A small gasp escaped my lips and I clamped my hand over my mouth to stop anymore noises from escaping. I didn’t need to alert them to my presence. Not now.

  A tear escaped my eyes as I peered into the room. Emmett was talking to my grandmother. Only, that couldn’t be true. My grandmother was dead. I had watched the paramedics come that day to her house. I listened as they told my mother she was dead. I sat through her funeral, as her body lay peacefully and still in the front of the room. I must be delusional.

  “You have been very good to me, Mrs. Carter,” Emmett spoke. “I wish you had let me help you,” he argued.

  My grandmother stood before him, dressed in the same powder blue dress my mother had selected for her funeral. Only, she looked more like a hologram version of herself. Her body was faded, like it was a ghost of herself. But that would be absurd. My grandmother is dead and ghosts don’t exist. She reached out her hand and patted the guy on his cheek. He closed his eyes and his body seemed to relax. “Emmett, you couldn’t have helped me. It was my time to go. Now, just be a good boy and help me get to the next realm,” she spoke softly.

  My eyes rose in shock. What in the world were they talking about?

  Emmett nodded his head and then took my grandmother’s hand. “I will always cherish you for taking me and the other lost boys in as children. You gave us a life, family, and purpose when everyone else had given up on us. I will miss you,” he smiles. A dark shadow begins slithering all around them, thick, black tentacles crawling over each of them, grasping them in its hold. Horror sinks inside of me, but they both look so peaceful. The darkness completely covers them, before Emmett lifts his other hand and they both disappear right before my very eyes.

  At the sight of the black smoke filling the room, I let out a loud scream and then everything goes black.

  Chapter 2

  Emmett

  This was the worst possible thing that could have happened.

  I knew it was being risky having this conversation with Evelyn, especially out in the open, but I couldn’t help myself. Evelyn had been so important to me. She had taken me in when no one else would. That’s what she did. Evelyn took in orphans -- Lost Boys, like me, and raised us. She found us homes; or if we were old enough, helped us find a job and a purpose. She never gave up on us and, in death, I refused to give up on her. If she hadn’t...I can’t even fathom to think what would have happened to me.

  I wasn’t like others; I was a supernatural. After my family died due to the plague, I was left barely alive when I was taken to a hospital. Little did the nurses and doctors know, but I had died. A Fallen Angel and a Heavenly Angel fought over my soul. The end result was determined that I would become a Ferryman. A messenger if you will. My purpose now in this world is to transport the dead to their final eternal resting destinations. It is not what I wanted, but it is the role I was given. My form was still here, but my soul was stuck in a type of purgatory. With no family left, I was sent to an orphanage. Only, I was different and everyone knew it. No one could explain what was exactly wrong with me, and my condition seemed to terrify everyone. Evelyn found me; she had worked in the hospital where I was taken once my family’s dead bodies had been discovered.

  Evelyn took me to a home with people who knew how to care for me, and they taught me important skills that would allow me to survive in this cold world. Only, they couldn’t tell me how long I was forced to remain in this limbo role. Would I ever age and die? I was slowly introduced to other kids she had taken care of throughout the years. While she had a family of her own, I never met them. Humans just didn’t understand those of us that didn’t seem to fit in with everyone else. It was hard to comprehend at times; but the older I got, the more I understood. Watching the other ‘lost boys’, as we called ourselves, develop into their beings, I began to get why we were hidden from the outside world. Shifters, Vampires, Dark Angels, and others in the supernatural community needed to remain hidden in Shady Oaks. After a while, we were allowed to attend school with the humans, but we had to be careful and never, ever fall in love with the humans. Sadly, one fallen angel hadn’t followed that rule and it almost destroyed our town.

  But now, as I stand here looking at this young girl lying on my floor, I realize I have messed up.

  “Emmett, what did you do?” Micah asked, as he looked at the beautiful girl sprawled out on the floor.

  “I didn’t do anything,” I snapped back.

  “Look, I have an entire funeral home packed and I need to be there as their host. Get rid of the girl,” he finished.

  “Wait, is she?” shock registers on my face before I can finish the sentence. I look at her long, brown hair, sweet face, and pink lips. She is Evelyn’s granddaughter. The resemblance is striking While I never been introduced to her family, I had seen pictures. But one look at this beauty on the floor, and I knew it was Evelyn’s granddaughter.

  “Is she who?” Micah asks, as he rubs the bridge of his nose.

  “Evelyn’s granddaughter,” I say, still looking down at the girl.

  Micah perks up at this and begins to carefully inspect the girl. “Oh no, it must be. I think I remember seeing her now during the service. She must have slipped back here while everyone else was moving into the parlor,” he says, his voice rising in panic.

  “I am not sure, but I think she saw me when I transported Evelyn,” I say, my voice shaking with fear. We had always been taught to keep our powers hidden from humans. They would never be able to comprehend the abilities we hold. Normally, if humans caught us in the act of performing our magic, we would either erase their memories or...kill them. Unfortunately, I didn’t hold the power to erase memories. Only Witches and Wizards knew how to do that. Micah was a Vampire, so he wasn’t much help either.

  Panic started to set in as I started to realize what this meant. We would have to leave Shady Oaks. Not only did we house the only funeral home and morgue in the town, but we also sold blood drained from the humans we prepared for burial, to the local Vampires in town. Our business leaving would affect everyone around us.

  “Take her back into the funeral services wing. Lay her down gently and we will just hope she wakes up confused. Maybe she didn’t see everything,” he suggests, only I hear the worry in his voice, too.

  I nod and lean down. As I get close to her, I inhale her scent of lemon and lavender. It is intoxicating. I place my hands under her back and legs and carefully lift her small body into my arms. She feels so light and her skin is very smooth. I want nothing more right now than to stand here like this forever. But, I shake my head and try to erase the idea from my thoughts. I can’t do this. I need to take care of this beautiful dilemma immediately.

  I follow Micah as we tak
e her back to the services room. We lay her down and make our way toward the parlor room. I sneak one last glimpse back at her before I retreat back to the morgue. A pain hits me so hard; I fear I may fall over. I have never felt such agony in my life before. What is this feeling? I haven’t felt anything other than numbness in so long, I am not sure what to think of this unfamiliar emotion.

  I don't know what to do with her. She looks so innocent, yet I know she has seen more than what I know is allowed. We have known all of our lives that we must keep our secret and never let a human know what we are.

  Micah looks at me as he cocks his head to the side. The way he is looking at me makes me feel strange.

  “I don't know what you're thinking, but we have to do something about this girl.”

  I turn to face Micah and look away from the girl for just a moment.

  “I’m not thinking anything,” I say, as I look at him.

  Micah shakes his head, anger building inside of him.

  “We have to get rid of the girl,” Micah says slowly.

  a pain in my heart begins to form and, again, I am confused by the emotions I feel. Other than her grandmother, I've never cared about a human before. So why am I concerned with this girl now?

  “We don’t even know what she saw?” I argue, as I look back down at the girl.

  Pinching the bridge of his nose, Micah takes a step toward me and, instinctively, I inch closer to the girl. A wave of protectiveness washes over me as I suddenly feel compelled to protect this beautiful, young girl.

  “Emmett, you need to think about what you are doing very carefully. I understand she was related to someone we cared about, but we have been taught all of our lives to never be discovered by the humans. If she talks about what she saw here, our world could be ruined. Do you want that to happen?” he asks.

  I shake my head, words evading me for the moment.

  I see that the girl is breathing, her chest slowly rising and falling as she looks as though she is sleeping just beneath my feet.