by Fall, Carly
The Light Within Me
by
Carly Fall
©2011 Westward Publishing
All Rights Reserved
Smashwords Edition
The Six Saviors Series - in reading order:
The Light Within Me
Finding My Faith
REBORN
Beverly’s Rebirth
Destiny’s Shift
Tangled Fates
The Dream Walker
“Your narrative voice is so strong and unique, raw and honest . . .”
“This was a great story. It’s very well written. The author has a great writing style that is easy to follow & pulls you in. If you enjoy steamy, dark novels, you’ll enjoy this book.”
“That book was absolutely wonderful! I gave it 5 stars. When will the series continue? Oh PLEASE don’t make me wait too long!”
“I love that you have this ability to take the reader on a journey with your characters, and there’s no stopping the fact that you fully engage the reader in every point.”
“Your writing is so poignant, funny, realistic . . .”
“This gripping, and often sexy, story leaves the reader wanting more . . .”
About the Author:
Carly Fall is a wife, a mother and a slave to Nicky the dog.
She loves to laugh, thinks chocolate and wine should be considered their own food group, and wishes Christmas happened twice a year.
She is the author of the award winning and Amazon best selling series, the Six Saviors, as well as contemporary romance.
To connect with Carly:
CarlyFall.com
Newsletter: http://www.carlyfall.com/newsletter-sign-up/
Facebook: FacebookCarly.com
Twitter: @CarlyFall1
DEDICATION
First and foremost, I would like to thank my husband for his unwavering support and encouragement, as well as not rolling his eyes too much when I talk about works in progress that include vampires and beings from other worlds.
I also couldn’t have done this without the guidance and support of my editor, Allison Itterly.
And finally, I would like to dedicate this to two of my oldest and dearest friends, Candace and Jenny. Both of you know so much about me, my idiosyncrasies, not to mention my secrets, and yet you still continue to be my friends year after year. I love you both dearly.
Chapter 1
Noah had seen a lot of dead bodies in his time. He didn’t know how many, and he refused to keep count.
In some ways, all dead bodies were the same. Sure, each one had once been a unique individual, but when a person died, the light did go out, as if someone had flipped an internal switch in the body.
Noah crouched down. The clouded, blue, dead eyes of the man, probably in his late thirties or early forties, stared back at him. He looked around the alley where the body had been found. Two brick buildings devoid of windows stood on each side of the alley, a perfect setting for making sure there weren’t any witnesses. Any lights that had illuminated the area from streetlamps or overhead security features had ceased to exist a long time ago. At night, the place would be pitch black, and anyone passing the mouth of the alley would be oblivious to what was happening in that space. Any sounds could be explained as rats scurrying. Or cats fighting or fucking. Both sounded the same to him. In a nutshell, this was a perfect kill site. An experienced predator had done its dirty work here.
Noah stood up and rubbed his face. He had had a long day and looked forward to getting home. He turned to the detective in charge of the case, Matt Wilson.
“This isn’t one of mine,” Noah said, his voice a deep rumble. Noah was considered one of the best independent murder investigators and criminal profilers in the United States. He was often called to help assist and provide insight for cases all over the country.
But today’s body find was different.
Noah had put the word out on the West Coast that he was looking for a specific murderer with a special modus operandi on the kill, and if any detectives could let him know about any bodies that fit the kill description it would be greatly appreciated. It just so happened that this man with the dead, blue eyes died in downtown Reno, Nevada, which was about forty minutes outside of where Noah resided in Fernley, Nevada. Detective Wilson had contacted Noah about the body, and as luck had it, Noah had been in Reno.
“I was hoping it was your guy,” Detective Wilson said quietly, rubbing the bald spot on his head, then hiking up his slacks over his slightly rounded belly. “We’ve had a couple of these turn up, and I’m beginning to worry about a serial killer. It’s always the same M.O.—throat ripped open. I know you said you were looking for a killer who liked to slice throats, so I thought you should take a look.”
Noah nodded and ran his fingers through his short, brown, wavy hair. At six foot eight and two hundred seventy pounds of hard mass and unrefined power, he dwarfed everyone in the alley. He pushed his black sunglasses up on his straight nose, looked to the sky, and let the late afternoon sun warm his already tanned skin. He scratched at his face, rubbing his strong jaw. He hadn’t bothered to shave, so he had more than a five o’clock shadow going on, and it was beginning to get on his nerves.
He had to get moving before it turned to night.
“I appreciate the call,” Noah said, stuffing his hands into the front pocket of his jeans, his Ed Hardy T-shirt peeking out from his hip-length leather jacket. He didn’t bother to tell the detective that he would most likely never catch the person or persons responsible for the deaths that were happening in downtown Reno. If Noah had told the detective that vampires were responsible for the body lying at his feet, or that Noah himself wasn’t of this planet, he was certain his reputation would take a hit that it couldn’t recover from. As far as humans were concerned, vampires and beings from other universes were mythical creatures of horror stories and blockbuster films, not actual entities living among them.
Noah had been around long enough to know that vampires cleaned up their own messes, and they were pretty efficient at their job. They didn’t want humans to know of their existence. Noah didn’t want humans to know about his existence either. He was familiar with the “alien” the American government kept in Area 51. Man, that poor bastard had been put through the wringer, and Noah often wondered if he was still alive, or if they had finally killed him with all of their testing. No, humans weren’t going to find out about him and his fellow Warriors walking around on Earth, and he was very careful to make sure that never happened. He paid his taxes and obeyed most laws. Except for speed limits. He liked driving fast. He minded his p’s and q’s because he wasn’t signing up to be studied in the name of science and all that other crap.
The human lying on the concrete at his feet had been a victim of a vampire that was a little overzealous, as vampires didn’t kill humans. The vampire species would take care of their own problems, just as his own species was trying to do.
And failing miserably, he noted.
But Noah didn’t like to think about that.
Noah put his hand on the detective’s shoulder and smiled. “Thanks again, man. You let me know if anything else turns up around here. I’m looking for a slicer. My guy is neat and tidy. Not like this guy. Single slice, not pieces of the throat missing.” He cringed internally that he could refer to a killer as “neat” and “tidy.”
They said their good-byes, and Noah made his way over to his black Escalade. He slid into the black leather seat, shut the door, and looked through the heavily tinted front window. He closed his eyes for a moment, bothered at the fact that the dead no longer affected him. He used to get upset. He used to have nightmares. A few times he had even found a quiet corner so his lunch could evacuate his body with a little
privacy.
But that was long, long ago.
Now, he didn’t even flinch, no matter the condition of the body. He had been at this too long, and he knew it. Two hundred and eleven years was too long for anyone to do one thing. He didn’t feel much of anything anymore. He felt no compassion for the dead, he sure as shit wasn’t happy, and he was bone-fucking-weary tired. Exhausted. He felt like his soul was being sucked dry. He was going through the motions of living here on Earth, keeping his mind focused on one thing: finding the killers from his race.
He opened his eyes again and gazed at the sky through the car’s windshield. Dusk was upon them. He needed to get out of reach of anyone who might want to talk to him. When the sun fully set, his eyes would turn a blazing orange. Not easy to explain that one. Sure, he could wear his sunglasses, but he had never seen a guy wearing sunglasses at night who didn’t look like an asshole. And he didn’t need to draw any attention to himself.
He jammed the key into the ignition and pulled away from the curb, not really looking forward to his long drive home.
Chapter 2
As Noah sped down the road—speed limit be damned—he remembered when he came to Earth and what had brought him here.
He had lived on a planet named SR44. It was a nice place. Lots of green forests, wildlife, and peace and calm. The temperature fluctuated between sixty-five and eighty. The beautiful time of twilight lasted six hours a day. There wasn’t a lot of land mass on SR44. In fact, ninety percent of the small planet was water, so the population packed itself into dense areas filled with skyscrapers that sparkled like freshly buffed gold. The rest of the planet was made up of thick forests and water similar to the Earth’s oceans, except it was fresh water, not saltwater. The people of SR44 enjoyed the oceans and forests much in the same way those on Earth did. There were those who even lived in the forests similar to some of the Earth’s native tribes. No matter where they lived, the cities or the forests, the inhabitants of SR44 lived together in a cohesive peace, so there weren’t any wars among the planetary populations. They were a proud, moral race that had definitive definitions of right and wrong.
SR44 and its inhabitants were a beautiful sight. Every habitant, male and female, had a different colored body mass, ranging from the lightest to the boldest colors, which reflected off the golden buildings. During the daytime, the cities looked like a canvas of every shade of the rainbow coming to life and dancing within the golden rays.
Their bodies were nothing but wisps of colored smoke that made up a long, lean form similar to a human form, with arms and legs as well as a head. However, unlike the human form, their body mass continuously moved and swirled, similar to watching flames dance in a fireplace.
The basic family structure on SR44 was similar to that of Earth. Noah’s family, which consisted of his parents and him, had been what would be considered royalty on Earth. His upbringing had been filled with wealth and the best of everything—the finest schools, the nicest housing, the biggest celebrations. The folks on SR44 went all out for their weddings, birthdays, and holidays. In Noah’s family, nothing had been spared for these parties.
Noah had graduated from the highest rank of military called the Battle Squad, a.k.a. the self-proclaimed bad-asses. His father had been so proud and thrown a party that lasted three days. It started at their mansion, then hopped to their yacht, and finally ended on his parents’ island, one of the many that spotted the ocean. Three hundred people had attended the party at some point or another during the three days, but Noah and his fellow Battle Squad comrades were there for every second. He smiled as he remembered that night; they’d practically drowned themselves in the human equivalent of booze, and the female attendees were more than happy to help the Battle Squad celebrate in any way, shape, or form.
That had been a hell of a three days. Cheers. Salute. Sláinte. Bottoms up.
His father knew how to throw a party. Actually, everyone on SR44 was pretty adept at celebrating. Noah sometimes wondered if their DNA had some party helix that hadn’t been discovered yet.
The Battle Squad was always training for a battle that they would most likely never see. The planet kept their military strong in case there was ever an invasion from another species. They had never experienced such a thing, but better to be prepared than to get caught with your metaphorical pants down around your ankles. And, unlike humans, they knew for a fact that they weren’t the only ones to inhabit the universe.
They weren’t quite that self-centered.
Crime was low, but that was because they handled their criminals differently than humans. When someone committed a heinous crime, there was a trial, just as there was in the human world. Crime on SR44 was committed by the males of the species—there had yet to be a female who perpetuated a crime worthy of banishment.
When the culprit was found guilty, they were sent to live on one of SR44’s moons known as “The Colony.” There wasn’t any life in prison, no death penalty. SR44ians believed in making criminals as miserable as possible, just as their victims and the victim’s families lived in misery.
The Colony was not a nice place. SR44’s school system drilled it into the children what would await them on the Colony if they broke the law. The Colony saw very few hours of SR44’s sun, so it was bone-chilling cold. It was made up of gray and black rocks and dirt, and because of the lack of sunlight, there wasn’t any greenery. It was a cold and miserable place with dark, evil inhabitants. Noah remembered the first time he had seen pictures of the Colony. He had been the equivalent of a human ten-year-old, and had literally been scared straight. He made a promise to himself that he would never, ever, break a law and would lead an upstanding and honest life. As he approached adulthood, he was his father gave him the choice of going into the SR44 military, or going to work in the science division of the SR44 government. Kicking ass seemed far more fun than test tubes, so he opted for the military when he was the human equivalent of twenty years old.
Noah swerved the car, barely missing a suicidal jackrabbit. If the little fucker wanted to off himself, fine, but Noah wasn’t about to help him do it.
To graduate from the Battle Squad, he had to live on the Colony for six months to train. The cold had made his metaphorical bones rattle, and he felt two steps shy of crazy from all the drab, gray colors. The dead silence of the place deprived his senses, despite the company of his fellow comrades. When he got back to SR44, the colors had almost blinded him, and it felt as though the noise would deafen him. Eventually, he was able to adjust.
The criminals who were sent to the Colony were aptly named the “Colonists.” The people of SR44 did not believe in rehabilitation for the hardcore lawbreakers, but they did believe in ejecting them from society. Just like on Earth, there were murderers, rapists, and pedophiles, and they were sent to the Colony to live out the rest of their days. Thankfully, there weren’t a lot of those in the population, and the count on the Colony never reached above one hundred.
Noah had been young and full of piss and vinegar. Because of his social standing, it was customary for a mate, or a lovren, to be chosen for him. His father decided he was ready for some grandkids and had chosen a female named Julia. Noah thought he had grown to love Julia, and they were together two years before he left SR44. But if he had been honest with himself, he loved his job as a warrior, not Julia. When he thought about her now, he realized that she was simply just a figure in his life that was supposed to be there—kind of like the chair or the bed. He winced. Man, that was cold comparing his mate to furniture, but his life had been devoted to being a warrior. She had just . . . been around.
Married to the job and all that.
He loved the training he received in the Battle Squad, and he became an excellent combatant with no one to fight. This irritated him, as it had his other brothers-in-arms. He was raw energy waiting to explode. What was the purpose of having incredible skills and no one to use them on?
Then the opportunity presented itself. Unbeknownst to the
people of SR44, some of the criminals of the Colony had fled. When the ship landed to deliver the monthly supply of food, rumor spread that twelve murderers overpowered the crew of the medical ship and took off for somewhere unknown. No one was interested in how they had bested their captors, but rather, how to make sure those criminals never wreaked havoc on another planet in the universe. As a world, the escape of their criminals had been the greatest embarrassment, failure, and shame of their existence. They were a peaceful people and did not wish the evil that inhabited the Colony on anyone.
The ship the Colonists had hijacked was eventually tracked heading for Earth. Those in charge of the military handpicked six combatants to go and chase after the criminals. They were simply called the Six Saviors.
Noah had been one of those chosen.
All six were chosen for their special abilities. Noah and Hudson excelled at fighting and killing. Talin, the resident tech-head, was a master at anything computer-related. Cohen was the healer of the group. Rayner, the only Warrior who was a Forest Dweller on SR44, had the ability to see spirits that didn’t reside on this plane or the next, spirits that were just stuck between their bodies and whatever afterlife they had earned. And lastly, Jovan had the ability to feel a glimmer of a person’s emotions if he could physically touch them.
Noah and the rest of the Warriors had been so excited to finally put their skills to use, to erase the embarrassment and failure of their people, and bring back their pride as a peaceful planet that kept their living trash contained. As the highest-ranking member chosen, Noah was in charge.
To blend in with the humans, they had been given human forms before leaving for Earth. All were given large bodies, which were so different from their regular misty forms. Needless to say, the bodies took some getting used to, but the three-month trip blasting through space to get to Earth had provided them with the time to learn how to manipulate their new bodies.