“What are you doing back here Aiden?” I ask, trying to mask the growing amount of joy that was threatening to spill over and embarrass me for life.
He loosens his tie and his smile widens. “I needed to return to familiar territory,” he shrugs.
“I see…how long have you been teaching here?”
“About a year now…I see you’ve grown up Dawn.” He gives me an appreciative look and I cannot help but shudder. Jesus, he reminds me of when I was 12. And what makes matters worse is that he, like so many of us who are in the “other” categories of the living, he has not aged. He is just as handsome as I remember, and despite the girly feelings he triggers within me, he is too old for me-at least that is what I tell myself. When I do meet a guy that my parents will accept, we will meet on equal footing. Besides, having a crush on Aiden was one thing, dating him would be another.
He chuckles as if he could hear my thoughts and I pray that he doesn’t. I am always awkward around men even though I wish it weren’t the case. Several students stroll in and are instantly caught off guard by Aiden’s mysteriously dreamy presence. A couple of females quickly take their seats in the front of the class to have a close up of Aiden. Dressed to the nine’s in black slacks and Steve Maddens, with a black and white striped button down with a matching tie, his hair slicked back exposing all of his masculine features, Aiden is a catch. I have no idea what order of what realm he is from but I can guarantee he is not human. But whatever he is, whether you are male or female there is a strong sexual pull that cannot be explained and it will either make you uncomfortable or ovulate. Fortunately I grew up around him so his effect isn’t that strong but I can tell the rest of the females in class are not going to make it through the semester.
Class ends after an hour, with Aiden relieving us with the same excuse as Mrs. Foreman and some of the female students linger for a chance to steal just a second of his time. I don’t even bother. He is family, so I know I will see him outside of class. These desperate housewives can have him. He gives me a nod and a mental shot informing me he needs to speak to me later about something important. I nod and I continue out the door with curious glances staring in my direction.
My dad is outside parked waiting and ready to go. One of his men, a former street boxer by the name Cruz sits next to him in the front passenger seat and they are both watching me intently. This is stupid. I doubt the President’s own daughters don’t get nearly the same amount of protection as I do. My father and Cruz may be the only two in the car, but this entire building is surrounded by snipers, aerial fighters and shadow warriors of the highest caliber. If anyone or anything even breathes wrong in my direction they will be dead before they even hit the ground. My dad isn’t fooling anybody. I step out onto the curb, a gentle night breeze brushes against my skin with the tenderness of a lover and I shudder. I will probably never have one of those being who and what my parents are.
A couple of students walk by me, completely oblivious to the sounds of guns being loaded, or the tense gazes of the men who surround me protectively hidden amidst the shadows. I sigh. I walk quickly to the 2000 Honda Civic and say nothing as I slam the door behind me and buckle my seat belt. My father radios in to his men that I safe in the car and to commence with the escort back to the compound. We drive in a 15 year old car but live in a protective compound worth millions all because my parents are completely against keeping up appearances for appearance sake. We have to remain as low key as possible otherwise; people who worship the Queen will start digging.
Most humans are unaware that the world in which we live in is no longer our own. It was fought over and taken from us right from under our noses and before anyone could do anything about it, the Queen stepped in and obtained sovereignty and has had it for eons. She loves humans but hates the Greys which is what I-and the rest of my family are. The Queen of the House of Light despises us because of whom our father is and has waged war against us since our creation. She believes the Darkness to be of pure evil, and should be exterminated. But what I would later discover is it is the Light that actually harbors the most evil. They masquerade as angels when they are not. They care not for the plight of humankind-well at least the queen and her consorts. All they want is power, and anything that is a threat to that must be killed.
The ride home is a long one and I as I listen to my father radio to my mother that I am safe and on my way home. My father’s bodyguard glances at me from the rearview mirror and it takes everything in me not to stick my tongue out. This is stupid. Why can’t I just be a normal young adult and do normal young adult things without having to train six hours a day; avoid normal conversations with normal people; live in absolute secrecy with no friends or a life in general. I wonder how my parents even survived a relationship let alone marry and raise a child.
I look at the time: 10:00 p.m... Right on the dot and I am headed straight home. No detours to the movies or a club or a friend’s house. Just home where my parents will debrief me on any sightings, schedule me an itinerary for tomorrow and regulate all other areas of my life all the way down to the day I start my period. I sulk in the backseat and listen to my father and his guard talk idly about the fate of the world. I gaze out of the tinted window and take in the scenery that whizzed past us and I think to myself there has got to be more to my life than this.
Chapter 2
I don’t say anything to my father or his guard once we pull into the underground driveway and park. My father knows I am a little past the side of being annoyed and so I dart out the car, my feet beating against the pavement in quick, heavy steps through the darkness until I reach a corridor that leads to a gated doorway to the compound. I punch in the code, allow the red beams scan my irises and waited the half of second for the gate to open. I storm through, my turquoise backpack nearly getting caught in a snag, and I head up the short flight of stairs through another door where I am greeted by my mother and her team of guardians. She pushes her greying locks from her face and examines me closely. Everyone that stands in front of me, all ten of them were armed to the nines: utility belts loaded with bullets, grenades, and retractable blades, mini UZI’s, automatic assault rifles, pistols of every make and model and a slew of artillery I cannot identify. Between them alone there is enough weaponry to arm a small army which is what I have standing before me.
“How was class sweetie?” My mom asks pleasantly which does not match with the intense vision before me.
“It was fine,” I reply dropping my backpack on the floor.
“Great baby,” she chirped.
I eyed the room suspiciously. “Is there something going on that I should know about?”
My mother glanced around the room, nervous tension written all over her face and demeanor.
“There has been another sighting of warriors from The House of Light,” she said uneasily.
“Where? When?” I demand, now interested.
“Tonight a few miles south of us. They are searching for us-uprooting Greys wherever they go. You know she has a strong occult following and they are watching for anyone who appears to be in possession of supernatural abilities. Have you exposed yourself in any shape or form?”
Suddenly the room became more intense, so intense that I felt like I was trapped in a pressure chamber and all of the air evaporated out of the room. Before I could respond, my dad and his guard came in behind me, startling me when the door slammed behind them and the locking system turned on. With each set of clicks, I felt even more trapped.
“No mother, there is no reason for me to believe that I have done anything to jeopardize my safety or the safety of the compound by inadvertently revealing my identity.” I say finally, still holding my breath.
My mother glanced at my father uneasily and I sensed that the two of them were engaging in some sort of mental exchange that they often do when they do not want me privy to information. I roll my eyes. I have homework to focus on. I reach down to pick up my backpack and walk briskly past my mother,
headed to my room which is located on the third floor. My mother stops me by placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. I turn to face her.
“What is your class schedule?” She asks calmly.
“Monday, Wednesday and Friday I have class from seven to ten,” I reply.
She doesn’t say anything. She just nods and turns to face her team and my father and whatever plans they are concocting; I want no parts of it. I dash up the stairs, using a speed that isn’t anything close to human and the moment I enter my bedroom, I close and lock the door. I take a seat at my desk, the one I ordered from Ikea and had my rights read to me by my overly paranoid father the day it was delivered. I stare at the polished mahogany and hit the power button on my desk top. Sometimes I wish homework was the only responsibility I had to worry about because nothing could have prepared me for what was going to happen next.
I have no idea what time I finally collapsed on the bed. I spent a great deal of the night watching YouTube videos after reading the first two chapters for my history class and registering for the homework assignment we will be using for both of my classes. I remember showering; stuffing my face with my grandmother’s basil tomato soup with a slice of warm corn bread made from scratch and then afterward, everything is a bit hazy. My mind always turns to mush after waking up from dreaming about Him. My parents would flip if they knew. I find it a bit unsettling myself that he reaches out to me, me of all people. My parents are better suited for the job. Hell, there are members of my kind who are desperate for the glory. I want no such thing. As I told you before, I have been having these dreams since I was 12 and last night was no exception other than the fact that this time he whispered something that rattled more than my bones.
I am surrounded by darkness. Consumed in it, and I embrace every inch of it. I no longer fear the darkness as I did when I was a child. The light is what I fear the most. The light blinds you with its deceptive pull before lining you in its sight and destroying you. There is no safety in it. I reach out for something, I am not sure what. Somehow I feel stronger, more alert, and more capable than what I have ever been in my life. I feel completely invincible. The deep, seductive, baritone voice that has whispered to me since I was a child then went to speak. First in a language my consciousness could not understand but instinctively I knew what was being said and then as my spirit began to translate its meaning, he says to me in the language that I do understand: “Lead my army. Set me free.”
Again, my parents would flip if they knew. So is this my destiny: To lead warriors of darkness and free our ancient ancestor? I pull my heavy mass of braids back into a bun as I make my way down for breakfast. My granny is as adamant about us eating breakfast as she is about cooking it. Personally, I think she wants us to remind her just how delicious her cooking is. And it is. The smell of bacon, salmon croquettes, and biscuits fill my nostrils and remind me of how hungry I am. It is seven in the morning. My parents never allowed any of us who resides in the compound to sleep past eight. My father says late sleeping is a sign of apathy or illness and neither are beneficial to our cause.
My father’s name is Demetrius and my mother’s name is Kai. Both sides of my family reside in the compound along with a few recruits from other surviving clans. There has to be at least fifty of us under one roof, and let me tell you it has not always been easy. Both of my parents are only children so I do not have any aunts or uncles or cousins. From my dad’s side are both of his parents and from my mother’s side are my granny and her grey husky named Biscuit. The rest are the recruits from surviving clans and their families. There are also a few orphaned kids I was forced to grow up with my parents took in because of the Warriors of Light. Don’t get me wrong, I have grown to love them as siblings, but it sucks when you have to be the one to lead them by example all of the time. My punishments were always more extreme than theirs, yet I had to deal with a lot of hostility on their part. Now, not so much since all ten of them are finally coming into their own and a couple of them are being trained to lead their own groups, but I look forward to the day when I can strike out on my own.
I make my way down the stairs, barefoot-which is against house rules but I don’t care-and I take a seat at the long, medieval like table near the center. I am the only one so far that has come down. Granny is busying herself with placing another tray of biscuits in the oven. She is wearing her favorite pink robe that has all of the wear and tear of the years since she purchased it. Her hair is wrapped tightly in a white scarf; her chestnut brown skin light with wrinkles from years of raising a child in a world gone wrong, but like my parents she is still built like a warrior. Unlike other grannies, as they age they fall into the comfort of their own skin, becoming a little more round by the decade, softer with ample amounts of cushion. All three of my grandparents can still throw grenades; still wield swords and essentially set it off if they need to. At 65, Granny does not look a day over 40 and she is proud of it. Not a single ounce of body fat plagues her body, but I suppose that is one of the few perks of being a Grey: we age slower and our bodies are living weapons. She closes the oven door and adjusts the heat level.
“Morning baby,” she coos.
“Morning Granny,” I say savoring the smell of warm biscuits. The smell is so good I could lick the air.
“Did you sleep well?” She asks pouring herself a cup of coffee.
“I did,” I reply carefully. Out of everyone in the house my Granny is the strongest telepath and I can sense that she knows more about my sleep than I do.
“How are the dreams?”
See what I mean?
“They come and go…” I say trying to be a nonchalant as possible.
“You need to tell your parents baby,” She said gently as she added a few drops of French Vanilla creamer into her mug.
I don’t say anything. I am not telling my mother or father about these dreams. All that will do is tighten their security on me and increase my training.
“You know what? Your parents never told you-“
She put her mug down and hurried down the hall.
“Be right back baby!” She hollered behind her as she rushed to the front.
Whatever it was that was waiting in the front of the house caught the attention of everyone else. From all directions came the guardians, with my father leading the charge, and every last one of them armed. I pray this isn’t the mailman like last time. That took a lot of convincing and bribing on my father’s part to calm the man down. All of us are equipped with heightened senses so I don’t know how that level of confusion happened.
I don’t even bother to try to investigate. I know as soon as I step foot in the front my father is going to command me to go back in my room. Instead, I get up from the table and grab a freshly cooked croquet and extend my senses to the front of the house. From what I can gather, the individual is not human, and he is surrounded by individuals who share that same “otherness”. I wonder what he is. I take a bite of the croquet and nearly collapse in delight. My granny can cook! I have no idea how she does it but one bite alone is heaven at its purist. I go to take a seat when one of my orphaned siblings comes running in, grabs me by the crook of my elbow and ushers me upstairs.
“Hey!” I protest violently, snatching away from him. “What the hell are you doing Chris?”
Chris glares at me. He has always resented me, but out of respect for my parents he does us all a favor by not speaking to me. Except for this moment.
“I don’t know what the hell you have done Dawn, but your father has asked me to see you to safety and by safety he means grab your shit and get out.”
I know my father and he would never say anything like that. Chris just wants me out because he is desperate of my father’s approval. More than likely there is an immediate threat at the door and I am to make my way to one of the safe houses.
“I know my father didn’t say nothing like that Chris. What the fuck is the problem?”
I don’t usually cuss but Chris brings out the ugly i
n me.
“We are surrounded by Warriors of Light. You are the only one who insists on acting like a fucking human and you have brought danger to our home-“
“First of all Chris, last I checked this was my home. You were picked up off the street after being dumped by a turnip truck-“
“What are you two arguing about?” Granny scolded. “Chris, Demetrius issued you a command and yet you are standing here arguing with Dawn-“
“She doesn’t listen,” Chris snapped.
No one snaps at Granny and thinks they are going to get away with it and the instant the words left his mouth, I knew Chris regretted it. Granny’s expression became eerily calm before Chris was on the ground writhing in pain. I told you her telepathy is strong. She invaded his cerebral cortex and laid him out with a phantom pain that made him think every bone in his body was broken. He groaned in misery. She fixed her eyes on me.
“Upstairs. Now. We-“
Before she could finish her sentence a blast knocked all of us backwards. I flew into the stairs, crashing into several steps as I landed. Granny flew through the kitchen and Chris landed somewhere into the hallway. For the first time ever, the compound was compromised. Dazed, and slightly disoriented my instincts still go into overdrive. I run up the stairs into my room and slip on a pair of camouflage jeans, strap up my boots and grab the my blade and tuck two loaded semis into my waistband. I speed out in a blur and without having to look I open fire at two opponents who surrounded my mother. She held them at bay using every fighting technique at her disposal. The men that cornered her were indeed Warriors of Light. They towered over her 5’8” frame, each of them glowing in this white hot heat that was damn near blinding. My father pulled his sword out from the chest cavity of one of the men he’d been sparring with and watched as the male exploded into a bright light of energy before disappearing. I leap over the railing and face off with another intruder. He had to be over seven feet in height with equal amounts of taut muscle. I knew better than to look directly at him so I keyed in on my other senses and let instinct take over. I matched each of his advances with my sword, ducked and dodged and returned with just as much force as my parents had taught me.
In the Light of Darkness Page 2