Inside the Fire (Wardens Book 1)

by Heather D Glidewell

  The Wardens

  *Book One*

  Inside the Fire

  By: Heather Glidewell

  Copyright © 2015 by Heather Glidewell

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 1502778092

  ISBN-13: 978-1502778093

  First Edition

  No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical without express permission from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

  For Catherine

  Without you there would be no Dawn

  Chapters

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty–Eight

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  My name is Dawn Weathers, and I am eighteen years old.

  I inhabit a body harboring both darkness and light. It has become harder over the years to fight the darkness in me. My mother tries to keep my emotions balanced and my brain focused, but even she fails from time to time. Things changed though when we moved. They changed in a way neither of us expected.

  I have always been gifted, but lately my gifts have been becoming more erratic. They’re causing more damage and pulling me into a whirlpool of darkness I never experienced till this last year.

  First let me explain my heritage. My blood is a mixture of Heaven and Hell, celibacy and sin, ebony and ivory, angelic and demonic. I am not immortal though. I am not completely mortal either so it’s safe to assume I have an excellent life expectancy.

  My parents love immediately became repudiated by Heaven and Hell. When they befell discovery, the councils declared that they be excommunicated from both Heaven and Hell. Once immortal entities, all that remained of these living and breathing creatures was their memory.

  As punishment for their wrongdoing, they were stripped of their wings and obligations. There was one thing God would not do, strip my mother of me.

  They went into hiding after I was born, predominantly small towns and farmlands. Maintaining homes anywhere that had more land and fewer cities. I was a risk the moment I was born. Those that sought to end my life would have a harder time finding me in a rural area. My parents wanted to protect my identity just as much as they wanted to protect their own. They figured if I remained hidden I would live. If I lived I would ascend if I ascend then I would claim my birthright.

  They soon learned, though, they could not be together, my father’s constant need for power and glory did not complement my mother’s good nature. So they split; my father taking root in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the big city, and my mother the serenity of the country.

  Part One:

  Before the Fire

  Chapter One

  Lost Little Girl

  My father waited till I was fourteen to tell me what I was. I had been living with him for 7 years. My mother believed that my father could provide for me better. Therefore, at the age of seven, with tears in her eyes, she handed me over to him. I know now it was hard on her, having to say goodbye. At the time, I did not understand why my mother did not want me anymore. Had I done something so terrible that she felt compelled to hand me over to a man I didn’t know?

  “I have to stay hiding Damien. I can’t take care of her the way she needs to be.” My mother had said to him as he looked at her through narrow eyes.

  “So you think I can care for her the way she needs to be?” My father had asked her sternly.

  “You have far more protection for her than I do.” My mother’s eyes were glistening with fresh tears.

  I looked just like her from the blonde hair to the full pouty lips. The only trait I inherited from my father was his cold brown eyes.

  “It’s him isn’t it? He doesn’t want her.” My father was angry with her. Was it possible my mother’s new husband was forcing her to give me away?

  “He’s in the military Damien. I can’t expect him to move both of us around the country.” She looked at me and grinned.

  I just stood there stupidly listening to my parent’s odd conversation, not knowing how it affected me.

  “You don’t need him Angie. You are strong enough to take care of yourself.” There was a slight give in his voice. For just one second it seemed as if he still cared for her.

  “I do need him. There is no way to keep an eye out for things. I cannot afford a companion. Moreover, I have no clue where I will wind up. Something is after me. Just protect our daughter.” She pushed me towards him.

  He looked down at me and gave me a little smile. My eyes widened at the cruelty of it and I took two steps back. He got down on one knee and took me by my waist.

  “Do you know who I am?” He asked me softly.

  “No.” I whispered wringing my hands together nervously.

  “I am your Daddy.” He said smiling that creepy smile again.

  “Daddy?” I looked up at my mother and she nodded at me.

  I had never met the man. She said he left us when I was two and had yet to come home. That was until my mother remarried and I knew Daddy was never coming back.

  “Daddy!” I squealed and threw myself into his arms.

  ****

  This was also the day I met Mona, my father’s second wife. She was young with beautiful blonde hair and green eyes. She looked a lot like my mother, but I never said anything to let him know I saw the connection. For years, I would live within Mona’s constant praising. I was her princess after all.

  My father and his wife found out shortly after getting married they could not conceive any children. In desperation, they tried several methods, but each one failed. The only child Mona would ever have was me. She did not care where I came from; all she wanted was to treat me as if I was hers.

  I missed my mother every day though. I just could not exactly see her. They figured it would “confuse me” so in the last seven years I had seen her three times. Each time was through a window when my parents would meet to talk about my living arrangements. She would never look at me. The few hidden glances she would try showed the pain in her eyes. She also never changed. She always looked the same as she did the day she handed me over to my father.

  I wouldn’t say I was happy, but I wasn’t miserable either. I had everything any little rich girl could want. I had the pony, a swimming pool, and a butler named Mitch who would chase me around trying to get my muddy shoes off the carpet. The only problem I ever faced had to do with me competing against my father's job.

  It always seemed it was more important than spending time with me. He was always working and there were always weird people in our house. Parties and galas were
thrown in the lower levels of the house while I was forced to stay upstairs and out of sight. I was rather polite but my father always told me these were not the people I needed to be associated with. If I should be leery of them why are they even in our house to begin with?

  Mona, on the other hand, was always thrilled to spend time with me. So when my father was away on business (which was all the time) she would plan all these extravagant outings for us. We would fly to New York on a whim and catch a show on Broadway. Better yet, we would fly to Florida and California to take in the Disney attractions. She spoiled me rotten.

  I suppose it was her way of making sure I knew I was loved. Though I never questioned if my father loved me, I knew he did even when the words would not come off his lips. I enjoyed it though. Mona was a fantastic fill in for my mother. I just could never pull myself to calling her Mom. I was still holding out that one day my Mother would come back for me.

  ****

  Things changed when I was thirteen. I was having dreams that would consume me. I would wake up screaming not knowing what I was dreaming about at all. I remember nothing, not a single second of the dream before my screaming. I came to the assumption they were just nightmares. After I woke up and my room smelled strongly of burnt fabric, a few times I even found scorch marks on my sheets in the shapes of my fingers.

  I never told anyone about the dreams or the soiled sheets, taking everything off my bed and throwing it away hiding the evidence. I didn't know what my father would think of it. He would find it "illogical" that a young lady would smoke in her bed. I would have to scream: "Daddy I don't smoke," but he would look the other way.

  I hated dealing with the fear I would never make my father proud of me. He walked with presence, holding his back straight in the most unnatural way. He was dignified, yet a spark in his eyes always sent a shiver up my spine.

  I remember the day that changed my life well. I could tell you every last detail of that conversation. Well, at least what I remember hearing. I had been sitting on the couch watching a movie when my father came into the room and turned the TV off. He looked at me with his hard brown eyes and slowly an awkward smile crossed his face.

  “Dawn, I need to speak with you.” He always had a way of sounding like he was in control of everything.

  I suppose in a way he did. No matter what my father asked of anyone they always seemed to do it. There was no arguing, no hesitation; just a nod and they were out the door doing his bidding. I always figured it was just a sign of their respect for him. Little did I know it had more to do with fear than respect.

  "What is it Daddy?" I asked him, my father rarely smiled and when he did it always gave me the chills. This is what he was doing at that moment as I looked up at him.

  "Come with me?" He asked holding his hand out.

  I took it firmly in mine and allowed him to help me up from the couch. He took me into his office, sat me down on the brown suede loveseat and stood in front of me. He was fidgeting, something my father never does.

  "I will tell you a story, honey. I want you to pay close attention to it now ok?" He said slowly. I nodded at him.

  He talked about God and Lucifer and the separation of Heaven and Hell, the Great War between Angels, and those that were thrown out of the Kingdom of Heaven. My father went on for what seemed like hours telling me the story about mortals, Angels, and demons. He kept telling me the universe was intertwined, that each story told had a shard of truth. About thirty minutes in my mind wondered off into my own fantasy world.

  “Dawn are you listening? This is important!” He called me back to earth, but my mind was only partially there.

  I am not, nor have I ever, been a religious person. I find theology to be a waste of breath. No religion yet had swayed me to believe their way was the only way. Until that day came I would be my own religion. The Church of Dawn if you will.

  "Sorry, Daddy." I apologized. I glanced off towards the mirror on the other side of the room and brushed a piece of blonde hair behind my ears.

  My father is a Dallas County prosecutor; he is under a large amount of stress day in and day out. So imagine my surprise when he finally got to the point of this whole conversation. He almost looked overwhelmed by the whole thing. Let me emphasize my father was not a weak man, so this moment of weakness was astonishing.

  “Now pay attention Dawn.” He demanded of me again.

  His eyes looked dark and mysterious as he stood up in front of me. Shrugging off his pin-striped jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. He let out an impatient sigh. Putting his hands together he rolled them slowly, white sparks flew from his fingertips and a blue orb appeared, when he looked at me again his eyes were black. Now here is the thing when I say they were black I mean there was no whites to his eyes not a single hint of the dark brown color I inherited. I was frozen still, both in amazement and fear.

  What did this mean for me?

  “Daddy?” a meek squeak came from my throat as my pulse increased.

  Every child wants to believe magic is in the world, that a force greater than what they can even imagine is possible. Unless they learn that magic really exists, and that it has different levels of power. Finally, the realization hits them that not standing six feet in front of them their own father is proving that it exists. Chills crept up my spine as the orb danced around his palms. The blue flame was mesmerizing, and I had the urge to touch it. I sat on my fingers hoping to stop the curiosity.

  When he let his hands drop to his sides, his eyes returned to normal he told me what I was. I wasn’t expecting the impact of the blow to be so large, but then again I was only fourteen. My father crouched in front of me placing his hands on both sides of my hips. His eyes bore into mine and I looked away.

  “Dawn, I have something I need to tell you, something very important. I need you to listen. Things will become peculiar for you soon. You will notice changes in your body, and even in the way you think. Your dreams will become more convincing. You may even feel that your body has traveled to other places.” He paused; I was staring at him in awe.

  Mona had the conversation with me about woman changes several years earlier. I had a distinct feeling the changes he was talking about had to do with my charred bed sheets.

  “Honey, you are a very special child. Some beings would say otherwise. In your veins run two types of blood, rival blood. When your mother and I met we were from two different sides of the spectrum. You are something that should never have been. Yet here you are.” He sighed. I wasn’t getting it. How can my blood be rivaling itself? The last I checked the human body didn't have this issue.

  “Daddy, I don’t understand.” I was fourteen what did he expect?

  He looked me in the eyes.

  “Dawn, your mother comes from Heaven.” He looked around becoming increasingly nervous.

  I smiled at him.

  “So you’re telling me Mom’s an angel?” I asked quietly. “So what are you?”

  He hesitated for a moment then let it come out in a rush of words.

  “I am from Hell.” His voice was low, but I still heard the words hissing past his lips.

  I looked at him in amazement as the whole conversation unfolded before me. I suddenly understood everything. It was as clear as day. The rival blood didn’t mean I had two blood types it meant that I had to two types of blood.

  “You’re a demon?” I whispered.

  My father nodded his head, and I started to cry. He pulled me to him and ran his hands down the back of my head rocking me back and forth. This was an affection I never received from him before. I liked it, at the same time I was scared to death.

  ****

  Now just think about it for a moment, I was fourteen realizing that I was becoming a woman. I noticed boys were not “gross” I liked summer. My favorite color was pink. I listened to bubble gum pop and painted my nails girly colors. I even had sleepovers with my giggly girlfriends.

  Within the last year I received my first kiss
from my first crush during a game of spin the bottle at my best friend’s fourteenth birthday party. I had a normal life for a girl my age, aside from all the money and the preppy private school my father me put in.

  I had developed a chest, my waist was curving, and Mona was allowing me to wear more stylish clothes. I had grown out of the fluffy sleeves and Mary Jane shoes and into cocktail dresses and ¾ inch heels. I thought that being a teenager would be the most amazing part of my life. Then my dad comes in sharing his little secret deflating all my dreams. I would never have the same life as my friends. I would not grow up, get married, and have children.

  I decided it best to run away. There was no other choice in my eyes. I couldn't grow up knowing that my father was a demon. That was just uncalled for. My Daddy was a respectable man but knowing where he came from scared me.

  I decided I would find my mother. She had to answer some questions for me and if I found that she wasn't able to answer them. I would keep running until I found someone that would.

  I was angry with my father for telling me I wasn’t normal, that I would never have a normal family. I realized that I was dealt an unfair hand, so I’m now destined to fight a constant internal battle. That is something I just have to accept. Over time I might, but right at that moment all I wanted to do was get away from my father and get the answers I deserved.

  Chapter Two

  One Way Ticket

  The bus station was bustling by the time I got there. I had been nowhere in the city without having either my step-mother or Mitch with me. I admit I was scared to death of what could happen. At the same time the nagging sensation I would be ok kept my head high.

  I was able to buy my ticket with little fuss. The lady behind the counter handed me the ticket and raised her glasses asking if I was over sixteen. I had nodded yes though I knew it was wrong.

  The last known place I knew my mother could be was El Paso. Her husband had been stationed at Fort Bliss right before she brought me to Dallas to pawn me off on my father. I was sitting on a bench waiting for my bus to come watching the people come and go when a woman sat down next to me.