by Cristy Rey
Edge of Seventeen (Incarnate, 0.5)
By Cristy Rey
Edge of Seventeen Copyright © 2014 by Cristy Rey
Selections from Taking Back Sunday (Incarnate Book One)
By Cristy Rey
Taking Back Sunday Copyright © 2014 Cristy Rey
eBook Edition, License Notes
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite e-book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual, locations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior express, written consent of the author.
This book is intended for mature adults only. It is not suitable for anyone under the age of 18.
Taking Back Sunday (Incarnate Book One)
ISBN-10: 0615963269
ISBN-13: 978-0-615-96326-6
Cover design by Cristy Rey
Formatting by Indie Express (http://indieexpress.org) (LU Ann)
Published by CMW Press LLC
FROM THIS AUTHOR
Supernatural Suspense / Paranormal Romance
The Incarnate Series:
Taking Back Sunday (Incarnate Book One)
Edge of Seventeen (Incarnate Prequel Novelette One)
Trail of Dead (Incarnate Book Two)
Wolf Parade (Incarnate Book Three)
Contemporary, Romantic Women’s Fiction
Weeping Angels
The Heart Grow Fonder
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
From This Author
Introduction
Glossary
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Taking Back Sunday, Chapter One
Chapter Two
Continue This Story
INTRODUCTION
In Taking Back Sunday (Incarnate Book One), readers meet Sunday who, after years of running, has finally settled into something of a normal life. Sunday is the Incarnate, a mystical being of lore that transcends the magical and mundane, or non-magical. Through flashbacks, they learn of Sunday’s young life as an indentured servant to Bernadette, a powerful sorceress. Expert witchcraft made it possible for Bernadette to subdue Sunday’s rebelliousness and curiosity in her youth. However, Sunday’s extraordinary abilities eventually cracked the witch’s curse.
Cyrus, the famed tracker of the Alaska werewolf pack, was a part of Sunday’s narrative long before they encounter one another in Taking Back Sunday. They had crossed paths over a decade earlier when his pack was contracted to capture her for Bernadette. For years to come, Cyrus will think of nothing but her and try, desperate and in vain, to let her go.
If this is the first time you read about the Incarnate and the werewolf who hunts her, then you’ll be pleased to find the first two chapters of Taking Back Sunday (Incarnate Book One) included at the end of this novelette. For those of you who are already familiar with them, this prequel hopes to whet your appetite for the few months until Trail of Dead (Incarnate Book Two).
Edge of Seventeen (Incarnate, 0.5) is the story of an exceptional fourteen year-old girl who is in the crosshairs of a dark sorceress. It is also the story of a werewolf who has lost the will to live, and the unlikely way in which he finds it. With Fate behind the wheel, these two characters begin their long journey on these pages.
GLOSSARY
Incarnate*— A mystical being of lore that is purported to be a conduit for energy, both magical and mundane. Theories abound as to what the Incarnate is; some liken the Incarnate to a god or goddess living as a human. Variations of the Incarnate and myths surrounding the Incarnate are found in the belief systems of numerous faiths and cultures.
Preternatural*— Phenomenal, or extraordinary. Term used to describe those in the magical community, i.e. witches, vampires, werewolves, etc., as well as the magical community itself. Largely exists hidden in plain sight from mundanes.
Mundane*— Pertaining to the everyday normal experience of the world. A person who is mundane is described as being unaware of and unskilled in magic.
Esbat— A ceremonial gathering of witches. A coven ritual meeting.
Conduit— A link between two distinct aspects, used as an agent of transferring or communicating information or energy.
Myth— A story that is largely believed to be true by a tradition or culture, even if facts of the story cannot be verified. Tenets of faith are usually taught by way of myth, regardless of a faith’s belief in the factual and/or historical veracity of the story.
Avatar— An avatar is a real-world incarnation or representation of an otherwise mystical, divine, or abstract concept, i.e. god or goddess.
Pastophori— Plural form of the Ancient Greek term pastophorus meaning “priest.” There are some variations of the term in historical/ anthropological literature and commentary.
Iset— Also known as Isis, Ancient Egyptian goddess.
*Note: The terms “Incarnate,” “preternatural,” “mundane,” and “Pastophori of Iset” as used in the Incarnate Series are defined uniquely for the purpose of these books by Cristy Rey.
Thirteen years ago…
CHAPTER ONE
The woman spoke to the Alpha, Stephen, with her eyes steady, staring directly into his. Her dark, silver-streaked hair was fixed tightly into a bun at the nape of her neck. Dressed in black from the high neckline of her shirt to the floor-length hem of her skirt, Bernadette was a vision of puritanical severity. Her taut expression and grave tone reflected her agitation over the matter at hand, a matter for which Stephen’s pack had been summoned.
Behind him, at the far wall of Bernadette’s office, Cyrus and the pack’s two other Beta wolves, Angel and Neal, stood squarely side by side. Meeting them on her own was a display of Bernadette’s power. She wasn’t afraid of them though she had cause to be. It was ballsy of her to assert an intimidating position to such a well-regarded pack Alpha, as if he was a lesser man. An eye-to-eye standoff with a werewolf was a game of chicken that a lesser human would lose.
A werewolf’s need for dominance was a genetic carryover of their curse. Lycanthropy changed a man, and not just on the full moon. It heightened his senses, slowed his aging to a virtual standstill, made him nearly invincible, and amplified his feral tendencies.
Stephen’s arms crossed over his chest so his generous biceps bulged from the sleeves of his polo. His shoulders were broad for his small frame. For a werewolf to be less than five and a half feet tall and still manage to project such an unmistakable aura of leadership was unheard of. That he was so widely deferred to among the preternatural population was a testament to his innate respectability. Even without all the weightlifting, he posed a threat to other werewolves regardless of
his diminutive stature. It was his nature. Stephen’s gift was his mastery of the role of Alpha. Authority threaded through his essence. Even mundanes, or humans with no preternatural skill or ability, weren’t immune to it.
But Bernadette was no ordinary witch. She was a force all her own, human or not. In the last decade, she had situated herself within Seattle’s liberal, youthful demographic. She and her coven ran the country’s premier tele-psychic foundation. The unassuming, matronly witch appeared in television ads and in magazines as the grandmotherly sort, wise beyond her years, and with ‘gifts of extrasensory ability’ that she offered as services to the paying public.
Despite the inauspicious, unlikely location where Bernadette set up shop, she cornered the market on all things preternatural. Less than an hour away from the heart of the city, Bernadette and her coven occupied a two-acre estate. The humble office space in Seattle was nothing more than a front for her real business. The manor on the property in the rural outskirts of the city was Bernadette’s true base of operations. While glorified telemarketers took mundanes’ calls for psychic readings, all the actual magic happened there.
Unwitting people might have considered the organization ‘hocus pocus’. The Seattle Post profile on Mother Bernadette, as she was known, described her as ‘a totally consuming and addictive fraudulent enterprise’. But it was understood by a fair and secretive population to be a very real and very powerful group of witches. Rumor had it that Bernadette was unsatisfied with being the head of the regional organization, however. She was making a play for the bigger picture. She wanted it all. This meeting was just the first domino in a long line, the ends of which were still unknown.
“I have called you here on a very special matter,” she said. “It concerns the Incarnate. I request your assistance in retrieving her and bringing her to me.”
Stephen’s brow had grown heavy as Bernadette had started speaking. By the time she said her last word, it was densely knotted. His expression matched the gravity of the witch’s request. As soon as Bernadette had dropped the word ‘Incarnate’ on the pack, a collective, subtle shudder rolled through the wolves.
“The Incarnate has been living in the foster care of a convent for some time. This girl is, now, fourteen. Within the next year, our sources tell us she will be moved to a facility that houses at least a dozen other adolescent children displaced by the system. At her current residence, there is minimal security and optimal conditions for extraction. Of the next place she is headed, the same cannot be said.”
Bernadette’s mouth drew into a thin, pressed line. The creases around her eyes deepened as she narrowed her gaze further on the Alpha.
As she directed her words to Stephen, the witch’s voice projected to the back of the room where Cyrus, Neal, and Angel stood. She didn’t waste a blink acknowledging their presence, but they loomed nonetheless. Cyrus, over a foot taller than his Alpha, wore a characteristically grim expression hidden beneath a thick golden beard flecked with grey. Beside him was Neal. Neal’s broad chest and equally large stature were yet another dominant force. His chocolate skin was made darker by the glower he cast on the witch. Though he was easily the coolest of the three soldiers, his demeanor was no less threatening. The hottest head among them was Angel who stood to Cyrus’ other side. Angel’s expression did nothing to mask his frustration. His nostrils flared and the scar that sliced through his eyebrow seemed to pulse in an aggravated twitch.
“We have tried, in vain, to bring her into our family. We have appealed to her caretakers to no avail. They do not understand the urgency of the matter, nor do they wish to take it upon themselves to intercede with her unfurling. With so little time left to spare, we now turn to you, Stephen, and your… men. Will you help us?”
Between the wolves, a conversation was silently taking place. Communicating through their telepathic link as a pack, they debated the witch’s request. Everyone in the preternatural community had heard stories about the Incarnate. But that’s just it, they were all stories. No one in the room had actually met or experienced an Incarnate in the flesh. They all wanted to know the same thing: What does the witch know about the Incarnate that we don’t know?
“Why do you want her? This Incarnate? Why would we do this for you?”
Bernadette’s jaw tightened and her eyes narrowed further. Dissent, even merely questions, weren’t something she tolerated from subordinates. And she certainly wouldn’t tolerate it from a pack of dogs.
“You have heard of the Incarnate, have you not?” Though Stephen’s expression didn’t change, she continued as though he had answered her. “Then you know of her great power and of what she means to our community. The Incarnate is a being unlike any other that exists in our world. Born human, she is the link between the profane and the divine. Incarnates rise as they are needed in society. For a century, there has been no tell of one. Yet, if you recall, the lore on them is rich through the stories of countless faiths and countless epochs. An Incarnate can cause floods to rise for forty years or heal a vast population from plague.”
As Stephen considered her request to intervene, the room filled with silence. Bernadette glared at the Alpha, awaiting his response. It was a good contract and a particularly profitable one as any contract for the matron witch of the Northwest would be. The job, on the other hand, seemed risky. They were accustomed to taking risks, but this was the Incarnate.
There were at least two strong Alphas living between Washington state and Oregon, yet the Seattle matriarch reached out to them for this mission. Outside the area, there were at least a dozen more who would have taken the job, no questions asked. But Bernadette needed soldiers, and she needed expedited services. Stephen boasted experience as a Special Forces commander in the last two major wars. His was a pack comprised of former military, other SpecOps, some-time mercenaries, rogue enforcers, and the like. No other pack in the greater Northwest claimed that level of combined experience. The Alaska pack was her only choice.
“What is it you think you’re going to accomplish by bringing her here? Why don’t you just ask us to terminate her?”
“I believe I am in a unique position to teach the Incarnate her true purpose. I am confident that, with our intervention, my coven can rear this child into a savior for our kind. With proper guidance, an Incarnate can uplift our world. However, left to exist in the world with nothing but the erratic whims of the mundane, she can wreak havoc to catastrophic proportions.”
“You say that the Incarnate poses a threat and we all know the stories about her incomparable power. If we’re going to face her, then we know we’ll be doing so at great risk. I’m not about to put my men on the front lines of some unwinnable supernatural war.”
For this, Bernadette had no answer but that the Incarnate was, of yet, only fourteen. She was still no more than a little girl and that was her greatest weakness.
“It is likely that your men won’t be harmed. Of course, it is possible, but it’s not likely. She is human, after all. I’m confident that you will find that this child is no great threat to your lives.”
A glint shone in Bernadette’s eyes. The fifty-some year-old witch raised a mocking eyebrow to Stephen and smirked. This was not the kind old grandmother on those television ads. The Bernadette that stood before them, spouting the perils of allowing the Incarnate to live freely was an angry woman; aged more so by her desire to acquire a necessary asset than by the years that she had roamed on this earth.
“Are you telling me that your elite werewolves are afraid of taking on a fourteen year-old girl who hasn’t yet risen to her full potential? A mere child who is in the care of nuns, and would likely be shocked to terror by facing any one of you, even in human form?”
The witch leveled her mocking insult at the Alpha, silently daring him to reciprocate. But Stephen, true to form, kept a firm grip of his wolf, and let the woman try her best and fail to incite him.
“Then how have you failed in taking her for yourself?” Stephen cut back with a
grin. “You’re Bernadette Archer, great sorceress of the Western United States. With all your witchcraft and all your millions, you come, instead, to my men. How is that, Ms. Archer?”
The witch’s face reddened. No one referred to her by her full name. No one. Bernadette was the name she went by when speaking casually and, among her coven, she was Mother Bernadette. “Ms. Archer” landed like a stone in her gut. Her jaw clenched so loudly that the werewolves mouths salivated with the urgency of fight. She was testing the Alpha, and no matter how much they chose to contain it, they were still beasts of battle. As Bernadette’s anger rose, the wolves threatened to tear free of their flesh. For younger, less skilled werewolves, any insolence thrown at the face of their Alpha would have led to a most certain catastrophe, but the three Betas remained steadfast.
“We have failed,” she said, the words coming out between her gritted teeth. “Only because her will is strong as are the protections around her. Her magic is something that we do not fully comprehend.” It pained Bernadette to admit it, but she did. “Though we know where she may be and we know when she is most vulnerable, she is impossible for us to find.”
Everything about what the witch was saying frustrated Cyrus to the point where he could no longer stay quiet. Before Bernadette could continue, Cyrus jumped in with a growl, “Did you not tell us where to find her? Don’t you know where she is?”