The Gender Fall

by Bella Forrest

  I made for the massive staircase and began descending it. Nearing the foyer, I could see the front door hung open, some forty feet away, light pouring through it.

  “Hey, Owen,” I said, when my eyes didn’t immediately spot him. “I don’t think Tim’s here. Did you find anything?”

  Taking the last step off the staircase, I paused, my ears straining. Maybe Owen hadn’t heard me—he might be in the basement. That was a thought… While we were here, maybe we should go down there and secure any equipment we’d left behind in our initial exodus.

  I turned toward the shadowy interior that was the ground floor, but then hesitated. It was really dark in that part of the house. A chill ran through me in warning, and I rolled my lips between my teeth. “Owen?” I called again.

  A floorboard creaked behind me, and I whirled. A figure stood in the doorway, features obscured by the light of the sun pouring in behind them. I took a step forward, raising my left hand to block out the light. “Owen?”

  “No, Ms. Bates. It’s not.”

  I froze as the distinctly familiar, clipped, refined voice filled the room. The figure took several long, slow steps forward, and, purely out of instinct, I took a step back, my eyes growing wide as Desmond’s features became visible. My breath hitched, my blood pounding in my ears.

  “How are you here?” I asked, my voice hoarse with barely repressed shock. I was already looking around, searching for the guards she was sure to have brought with her.

  Desmond’s smile was a facsimile of kindness. “You should come out now,” she called over her shoulder—her eyes never leaving mine.

  As someone stepped out of the room leading to the study, I almost choked on my tongue.

  Owen’s eyes flicked to mine and then away, his shoulders and face slumped in defeat.

  “Owen?” I gasped.

  “I’m sorry, Violet,” he said, meeting my gaze again, his blue eyes swimming with guilt. “But I couldn’t let any more of the boys get hurt.”

  “Yes, it seems Mr. Barns here has at last come to his senses,” said Desmond. “Which means you, my precious Violet, are in an interesting predicament.”

  And then she smiled, her lips curling in feline satisfaction.

  My mind worked too slowly, unable to process the presence of Desmond and Owen’s role in it. But my body reacted, propelled by desperate fear, and anger that tasted bitter and hot on my tongue. I turned and began to run up the stairs, panic lending adrenaline to help me ignore my injuries as I put one foot in front of another.

  On reaching the third step, an escape route flashed across my mind, and I angled myself toward it. By the time I hit the fifth step, Desmond seemed to get over her initial shock. Maybe she hadn’t expected me to simply try to escape from her.

  “Grab her,” she shouted, annoyance and anger rife in her voice.

  “I’ve got her,” replied Owen.

  I couldn’t help but throw him a look over my shoulder as he spoke, disbelief still coursing through me. A small, hopeful voice in my mind reminded me Owen was my friend. Yet the churning anger and terror in the pit of my stomach reached up and engulfed my heart with a grip of violence, reminding me of his betrayal.

  Torn in two, I kept running, hooking a left into the dark recesses of Ashabee’s home. I tore through the house, dodging furniture and walls left and right. My breath was coming in sharp bursts, my ribs already starting to ache. Only the sounds of Owen’s footsteps behind me kept me moving forward.

  I headed for the stairs with the secret entrance to Ashabee’s vault. The door was partially closed as I approached, and I felt myself shudder with fright as I leapt over an overturned chair. I needed more time. Turning, I kicked the chair at Owen. It didn’t slide far, but it was far enough for him to catch a knee on. He went down hard with a loud oof, but I’d already whirled and moved to the door, throwing it open.

  “Violet!” he shouted insistently behind me.

  I ignored him as I pulled back the heavy bit of door disguised as a wall, making my way down the small stairs, not bothering to close it behind me.

  The room was dark, but I didn’t have time to hit the lights—I dove forward, using my memory of the place to guide me. I was so frantic, so desperate to get away, that I was moving too fast. My foot caught on something, and the next thing I knew, I was falling forward.

  My head! I thought as I began to fall, my arms raising up over my face. I had seconds before I impacted, but even then, I knew my head was going to collide with my cast, shattering my skull. My second thought was, I can’t go through this again.

  Something grabbed me from behind, hooked low around my hips, arresting my fall somewhat. Bracing myself, my hands shot out, the cast slipping across the floor. Waves of agony rolled up my right arm. I stayed in that position for five seconds, not trusting the sudden return of gravity.

  And then I lashed out with my elbow, twisting and trying to get a good angle on Owen’s head. “Get off me,” I shouted, panic giving my tone a brittle, frantic edge. Ducking, he missed my jab and let me go. I scrambled away from him on the floor as he stood over me, his features hidden by the room’s darkness.

  “Violet, please! I’m not going to hurt you!” Owen’s voice had its own panicked tone to it, something that gave me pause, egging the voice in my brain to continue its reminders that I had always been able to trust Owen.

  The bitter seed in my heart formed words that I spat out as I awkwardly flipped over to my backside and sat up. “You… You brought Desmond here!” I eyed the distance between us, gauging how much I needed to kick out his knee.

  “I did,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “And I’m sorry for not telling you, but this is our chance, Violet. This is our chance to kill her!”

  I froze. “You’re setting me up so you can kill her,” I breathed, horrified.

  “I’m setting her up so we can kill her. Please, Violet—I’m your friend. I would never betray you. Not really.”

  “Do you have her?” came a muffled shout from somewhere above, and my heart palpitated in response to Desmond’s voice.

  Owen turned back to me and knelt down, his hands reaching through the darkness to seize my shoulders. “Please,” he whispered, his voice thick with desperation. “Please help me kill her. I promise I will get you out of this alive.”

  The end is near…

  Ready for the PENULTIMATE book of Violet and Viggo’s story?

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for reading—I hope you enjoyed this book. :)

  Book 6, THE GENDER PLAN, is the explosive penultimate book in The Gender Game series — as we move toward the grand finale in Book 7 (The Gender End)!

  THE GENDER PLAN releases May 10th, 2017.

  Pre-order your copy now and have it delivered automatically to your reading device on release day:

  If you’re in the US, tap here to order.

  If you’re in the UK, tap here.

  Australia: tap here.

  For any other country, tap here.

  And here’s a preview of the cover:

  I’ll see you back in Matrus and Patrus on May 10th, 2017…

  Until then,

  Love,

  Bella x

  P.S. At the end of this ebook I have included bonus chapters of my new fantasy novel — The Secret of Spellshadow Manor. If you enjoyed Harry Potter, it might be up your street—and something to keep you going until The Gender Plan releases :) Keep turning the pages for the free chapters…

  P.P.S. Sign up to my VIP email list and I’ll send you an email alert when my next book releases - tap here: www.morebellaforrest.com

  (Your email will be kept 100% private and you can unsubscribe at any time.)

  P.P.P.S. I’d also love to hear from you — come say hi on Instagram, Twitter or Facebook. I’ll do my best to respond :)

  Bonus Chapter 1: The Secret of Spellshadow Manor

  Book description:

  A spine-tingling new fantasy, perfect for adults or teens who
enjoyed Harry Potter...

  What would you do if you spotted a man following a young woman, but no-one else could see him?

  Like most sane people, student Alex Webber thought he was hallucinating - perhaps he'd consumed something bad at the party he'd been attending that night, or he was severely overtired. But when he sees the mysterious man following Natalie again the very next day, he can no longer disbelieve his eyes.

  Although Natalie denies the man's existence, Alex sees her walking with him down a road in his neighborhood he's never seen before - and can't help but follow. After a bizarre, but strangely short journey, he finds himself standing before a towering iron gate wreathed in gray ivy, behind which looms a decrepit old house named Spellshadow Manor.

  Spellshadow, with its beautiful yet sinisterly decorated hallways, ever-changing outdoor scenery and very unusual residents... Alex will quickly learn it is a place that is as wondrous as it is deadly.

  Especially for a normal person like him.

  What if you found yourself recruited to an institute of magic, only to discover you really couldn't do magic?

  What if your enrollment there was all one big, terrible mistake?

  If you were at Spellshadow, you'd keep it a secret. A deep, dark, deadly secret...

  Because Spellshadow's elusive Head is hiding a secret of his own, one that Alex soon realizes he and Natalie must uncover at all costs if either of them wishes to leave the Manor alive - and before it's too late.

  Mystery, suspense, and plenty of twists and turns; an unforgettable experience awaits you in Spellshadow Manor... Welcome in.

  Keep turning…

  Chapter 1

  A hard knot formed in Alex’s stomach as he stared at his laptop screen. He’d hoped this would be the month he finally earned enough to provide a meaningful contribution toward his mother’s bills—that all the sleep he’d sacrificed to hone his coding skills would pay off and he’d begin earning a real income.

  Scrolling through his latest earnings report, disappointment swelled in him. He was on track to earn less this month than the last. Barely three hundred dollars. Most seventeen-year-olds in the sleepy town of Middledale, Iowa, would have been happy with that kind of side income, but most seventeen-year-olds in Middledale didn’t have a mother with a serious heart ailment.

  Alex ran a hand over his face, tracing the lines in his furrowed brow. Then he dimmed the screen and pushed back in his chair. He was being unreasonable. He’d started looking for a way to earn money from home only five months ago, after his mother had returned from a two-week stay in the hospital barely able to walk. Coding websites had seemed like a natural fit for him because of its linear and analytical nature, but he needed to get a lot better at monetizing them. Still, five months wasn’t long in the grand scheme of things. He just had to keep working at it.

  His eyes travelled to the clock on his bedroom wall which had just struck 2 a.m., then to the pile of neglected homework on the right side of his desk. He was glad that it was Friday—or Saturday, now. He’d make time to get through his school assignments over the weekend.

  “Alex?” his mother’s voice called softly from her room across the hallway. “I hope you’re not still awake?”

  He whispered a curse as he realized he’d forgotten to line the crack of his bedroom door with his jacket, to stifle the light from escaping under it. He’d promised his mom he’d stop staying up so late and get more sleep. She hated that he felt pressured to earn money, and worried he didn’t live enough—go out and act like other boys his age. That would have been easier for Alex if his father hadn’t left them before he was born. His mother’s health had been deteriorating for the past three years, and he didn’t like to leave her alone whenever he could help it.

  He rose from his chair and moved to the door, opening it with a sigh. “No, I’m asleep,” he said wryly, making his way to her room. He pushed her door, which was always left slightly ajar, fully open and stepped inside. She was sitting up in bed against a pillow, her dark hair in a braid, the TV playing on mute in the background.

  Her blue eyes looked rheumy against the flashes of the TV—as they usually did when she was in pain—and became tinged with disapproval as she took him in.

  “It’s Friday night, I’ll sleep in,” he reassured her quickly, moving to the bed. Noticing that the bottle of medicine closest to her on her bedside table was pain medication, he felt a stab of worry. “Are you okay?”

  She caught his hand and pulled him down to kiss his cheek. “I’m okay. Just a headache.” She cupped his face in her hands and narrowed her eyes. “But you look like death warmed over.”

  Alex smirked, knowing it wasn’t much of an exaggeration. He felt exhausted. Catching his reflection in the mirror above the bed’s headboard, his eyelids looked heavy, his dark brown hair mussed, and the premature lines in his forehead deeper than usual. He’d always looked unusually old for his age—now closer to a man in his mid-twenties than late teens—which his mother worried was from stress, but tiredness made it more pronounced.

  “Goodnight to you too, Mom,” he said, stooping to kiss her cheek before heading for the door.

  “Goodnight, honey.”

  As he left, he caught her mumbling, “Good thing Natalie’s getting a taxi here after all.”

  Alex stopped in the bathroom doorway. Natalie Chevalier. He’d almost forgotten about their guest tomorrow morning. It had been his mother’s idea to volunteer as host for the French student who was supposed to be staying with his classmate Garth’s family. Garth’s parents had dropped out of the arrangement at the last minute due to a “family emergency”, leaving Natalie with tickets booked but no place to stay.

  Alex had a sneaking suspicion that the bit of extra money they’d earn from hosting her wasn’t his mother’s only reason for volunteering. Certainly the idea of having someone his age hanging around the house for two weeks wouldn’t have slipped her mind—and a girl, at that…

  A French girl.

  As Alex brushed his teeth, he found himself pushing back his hair and glancing at his reflection again, a little more critically.

  Then he shook his head and rolled his eyes at himself.

  With his school and business schedule, he barely had time for the few guy friends he had. He really didn’t have time for girls.

  Bonus Chapter 2

  Alex awoke to sunlight trickling through his curtains and the aroma of fresh pancakes. The sound of an unfamiliar voice drifting up from downstairs quickly oriented him. It was light and had a pretty, almost musical tone.

  He sat up, pushing off his covers and rubbing his eyes. He glanced at his closed pristine white laptop, and then toward his door. The pancake smell made his stomach grumble, reminding him that he’d skipped dinner last night.

  He approached the door and opened it slowly. Now he could hear the French voice clearly.

  “Oh, this is so very good, Mrs. Webber. These strawberries are even better than I’ve had in my town.”

  “I’m glad you like them!”

  Alex raised his eyebrows. He hadn’t expected Natalie’s English to sound quite so polished. As he slipped out into the hallway and crept to the bathroom to take a shower, his mind was conjuring up images of what she looked like.

  After he had washed and dried, he pulled on a pair of jeans and a loose t-shirt—his usual attire—and, after giving his hair a quick comb, returned to the hallway. Before moving to the staircase, he poked his head into the spare bedroom he had cleared out a few days ago. A large suitcase rested on the bed and the room was suffused with a pleasant flowery scent Alex couldn’t quite put a name on.

  He turned and headed down the creaky stairs.

  “Oh,” his mom’s voice announced, “I think somebody has woken up.”

  Alex reached the bottom of the stairs, now in clear view from the kitchen, whose door had been left open. His immediate view was his mother, but as he drew closer, he caught his first glimpse of Natalie Chevalier, sitting on the oppos
ite end of the table.

  Alex’s first thought was that her voice perfectly matched her appearance. Her face was pretty and delicate, with large brown eyes, a pert nose, and framed by silky black bangs. Her skin was light tan and her build was slim and athletic. Although Alex couldn’t gauge her height too well from her sitting position, he suspected she was at least five foot eight.

  “Hi,” he said, clearing his throat and entering the room.

  “Hello, Alex,” Natalie said brightly, rising from the table and holding out her hand. He shook it, unable to help but notice how nice her skin felt. “Your mother has been telling me about you!”

  “Oh dear,” Alex said with a small smile, before seating himself in one of the only two seats available, both—most likely strategically—positioned next to Natalie.

  Natalie chuckled. “Only good things.”

  Alex moved to busy himself with the pancake container, but before he could, his mom rose, supporting herself against the table with one hand, and served him.

  “I told her that you’re a budding entrepreneur,” his mom supplied, and Alex looked back at Natalie.

  He smiled placidly. “Budding being the operative word.”

  “You know, I think that is so wonderful,” Natalie announced, beaming at him with genuine enthusiasm. “I don’t know anybody my age back home who is an entrepreneur. You make websites, yes?”

  “Uh, yeah.” Alex glanced swiftly at his mom, who gave him a knowing look. He was a little surprised that she would’ve told her this already, since she didn’t usually encourage Alex’s extreme work ethic.

  Though, Alex supposed there wasn’t much else to say about him at the moment. Other than working on his business and playing the piano, he currently didn’t have any extracurricular activities.