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The Wrath of the Chosen (The Chosen Series Book 1)

Page 8

by K. C. Hamby


  They somehow grow farther away when I break into a run, making my way to them as fast as I can. My body is moving in slow motion.

  Nina tries to pull herself away from Damien, but he has an iron grip and her attempts are futile. I’m so close when Damien pulls out a knife and holds it to her throat.

  Nina and I lock eyes once again and a single tear streams down her cheek. I lunge at them, my skin catching on fire with the shift.

  But Damien slides the knife across her throat before I can stop him.

  I’m thrown into consciousness and sit up in bed so fast, I almost launch myself onto the floor. I’m covered in a cold sweat and breathing like I just ran all night long. My skin stings with the push of shifting. I place my hand on my forehead, trying to calm my racing heart while sweat drips from my nose and down to the sheets coiled around my body like a snake.

  My wolf. She wants out. She wants to rip Damien apart.

  “What the hell was that?” I whisper to myself and throw my legs off the bed after untangling myself from the suffocating sheets. I run to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face. My wolf instantly recedes. I take a deep breath and stare at my reflection in the mirror. My hair is stuck to my forehead. My eyes are wild and my left is glowing light amber while my right is as cloudy gray as ever.

  I bow my head forward and breathe. What is going on? This leftover protectiveness is getting way out of hand. Why the hell was Nina in my dream?

  This is too much. I can’t live like this. I have to stay away from her.

  I lean up and look at the face of my watch. 8:37 A.M. Great. That’ll be all the sleep I’m going to be able to get.

  I head back to my room and grab some black sweatpants and a gray t-shirt. I leave my feet bare and make my way across the cool, hardwood floor through the living room and out of the back french doors. I run into the crisp air of the backyard. The sun is out and I pad across the cold cement of the porch, down the brick steps, and onto the dew-damp grass. I don’t even care about how cold wet it is, I just sit down and cross my legs.

  I like to meditate and pray. It always keeps me calm and focused; something I need desperately right now. It helps me feel closer to Hecate as well. I haven’t formally spoken to her ‘in person’ since my dream where she Chose me, but I’ve always known I have a special connection with her. Doing this helps me feel it.

  “Goddess Hecate,” I whisper into the soft wind, “Goddess of the dark moon, Guardian of Crossroads, Guide of the dead, and Protector of humanity.” The tension in my chest gradually dissipates.

  “I’m here in this time of need as your Chosen. I ask for strength, wisdom, and courage of the Maiden, Mother, and Crone to do what is just and right. Guide me through my crossroads and be my docent to the correct path.” My side—where my Chosen mark is branded—tingles in response. I smile softly. “Thank you, Goddess,” I finish formally and a rejuvenation washes over my body. I could totally take on one hundred Bosses right now.

  Something moves in the woods beyond the backyard. I tense, reaching out with all my senses for some answers.

  Large footfalls gallop through the dead leaves, crunching away any surprise that may have snuck up on me. The footsteps grow closer and my heart races. I crouch into a defensive stance and wait.

  The steps are getting closer and slowing. They know I’m here.

  I crouch lower, ready to lunge.

  I gather up my strength and bend to jump when a smell hits my nose: fresh cut cedarwood. I stand, sighing, and stare at the edge of the woods, giving my best unimpressed frown, and wait.

  A few seconds later, a large, black wolf steps out from the shadows of the trees, locking his dark, amber eyes on me. He stands at nearly five feet tall, so large is definitely an understatement. The white star shape on his chest stands out more than it did last time I saw him. His paws are white, making it look like he has on socks. I’ve always picked on him for that.

  “Ash,” I state, waiting for him to attempt to tackle me like he usually does.

  His large muzzle breaks into a wolfish grin, his tongue falling out over his teeth. He jumps into a run and leaps in my direction. Ash is way too big for me to catch and I’m not in the mood to be tackled, so I jump out of the way at the last possible second and he lands gracefully on his feet in the very spot I was just occupying.

  Show off.

  He winks one of his dark eyes at me and his shape starts to shift. The black hair recedes into his skin and his bones crack back into the person form of Ash. His grotesque form stands, finally shaping to a normal face that gives me a goofy grin.

  I’ve always appreciated the fact that our clothes change with us. If they didn’t, this would be an extremely awkward encounter.

  “Morning, Fal Pal.” Ash smirks through his still glowing eyes. I scoff.

  “Morning, Ash-hole.” He nearly chokes on the air he’s breathing and I laugh at his expense.

  “Not cool, Fal.”

  “Yeah, whatever,” I dismiss and raise an eyebrow at him. “Are you ready to kick some….dare I say it….ash?”

  ***

  Ash kicks me out of the SUV at the entrance of the closest Super-Mart and I run inside, straight to the hardware section.

  I finally find the chain cutters after searching through potted plants, Fourth of July decorations that are already on sale for some reason, and lawnmowers. I test each type of chain cutter in my hands, weighing whether or not they can get the job done when I hear someone approaching me at a brisk pace. The hair on the back of my neck stands at attention and I turn around quickly, preparing myself for a Poacher attack.

  To my absolute disappointment and annoyance, I instead lock eyes with that Sara girl who’s Nina’s friend. Or, I guess she’s Nina’s friend. She obviously wants to be more than that.

  Sara skids to a halt about five feet away from me. She’s smart for keeping her distance after my last slip up. She rakes her haughty eyes over me, giving me a good once-over with her mouth twisted in a disgusted arch.

  “Who the hell do you think you are?” she spits at me, putting as much venom in her voice as she can muster. Too bad she’s dealing with the queen of bad attitudes and I’m not fazed in the slightest by her little toddler temper tantrum. I simply smirk and lift an eyebrow.

  It seems to piss her off more. It’s entertaining. I think I can even see her blood boiling beneath her pale skin.

  “You,” she gripes and points a crooked finger in my face, “better stay away from Nina.”

  I bristle. She’s threatening me?

  “Or I promise you, you will regret it.” She smiles this terribly ugly smile, acting like she just made me piss myself in fear. My bitch switch flips on and my bloodlust creeps up on me again. It’s getting harder and harder to satisfy the need for spilled blood.

  I walk up to her slowly, giving her my own menacing once-over the whole way. She stumbles back a step, followed by a face covered in pure terror. My mouth twitches up into a sneer and I stop mere inches from her face.

  “No, I’m not sure who you think you are,” I hiss through my teeth, “but if you threaten me again, I’ll turn you into the piece of meat you think Nina is,” I pause for dramatic effect, “just a whole lot bloodier.” My sneer turns into a full-blown smile and my pupils dilate as much as possible. Sara’s eyes look like they want to fall out of her head and roll away to safety. Her skin pales more than I thought possible and she does an about-face, quickly walking away. I roll my eyes and watch her go as my anger begins to fade.

  “Glowy-eyed freak!” she yells over her shoulder and flies out of sight.

  What the actual hell is her problem? Why is she so damn territorial around me? It’s annoying and, frankly, a waste of my time. A small growl slides through my teeth as I let out the rest of my anger.

  No one threatens me. Especially not a little punk poser.

  I grab the chain cutters, pay for them, and run back outside where Ash is waiting, no doubt blasting PennyForward. I hop into the SUV
and drop the cutters into the backseat behind me with a huff.

  “Whoa. Everything okay?” he yells over the song “Popstar.” He’s beating on the steering wheel like he may actually know how to play drums or something.

  He doesn’t.

  “Yeah, everything is fine. Just…an annoying cashier asking me about my scar,” I lie. There’s no point in telling him about my little altercation.

  “Oh! Did you give her the story I told you to? About how you got it by trying to pull your head out of your boss’ ass?” He laughs hysterically and I want to punch him in the face.

  “Ha. Ha ha. Very funny. You should get your own comedy show.” I cross my arms over my chest and watch the cars go by as he drives me to my drop-off location.

  “Uh huh. And you,” he taps my arm, “shouldn’t be such a kiss ass.” He stops making fun of me to continue his usual out-of-tune PennyForward concert and I groan.

  “I’m not a kiss ass!” I yell over the speakers. “I just get my jobs done as quickly and efficiently as possible, so I don’t piss of Cosma. I can’t help that she thinks I’m the best pick for all the tough jobs.” I shrug and lean back in the seat, trying to ignore Ash’s horrible singing voice cracking through the entirety of the song. He rolls his eyes at me but decides not to argue.

  After three more earsplitting songs, I’m dropped off at the building across the street from the squatter/dungeon building with my sniper rifle, weapons, change of clothes—since I’m still wearing sweatpants—and a headache, no doubt from Ash’s little concert. I make my way to the top of the building and drop off my stuff. I add a dark gray pullover and a black beanie to my lovely garb and head to the street.

  I walk in the direction of The Bean, which I tell myself is not to check and make sure Nina is alive after the nightmare I had, but to instead see if caffeine will combat my PennyForward and Ash induced headache.

  It would make sense if I drank coffee enough to suffer from a caffeine withdrawal, but I don’t so I’m just lying to myself.

  Is concern an emotion? If so, I need to speak to whoever decided to release my emotions from the deep pits of Tartarus and send them—followed by these in sufferable emotions—back to where they came from. That’s what’s radiating through my chest: concern for Nina. I don’t like it, but I can’t seem to shake it off.

  The wind blows softly, tousling the wavy hair hanging down from my beanie around my face. People are bustling about, a lot of them dressed nicely, going to church or getting out of services. Who knows? I just know it happens on Sundays. I avoid as many people as I can and make my way down the street.

  I finally make it to The Bean and it’s luckily not all that crowded. I grab a decaf coffee and hurry to the table on the patio where I sat yesterday, but totally not so Nina will be able to find me. It’s because I like this table.

  Yeah, I’m terrible at lying. Even to myself.

  Especially to myself.

  I wait and sip on the scalding liquid I don’t even like.

  I wait some more.

  I wait, raking my eyes around the shop, trying to convince myself that this is stupid and I need to leave.

  I wait for what seems like years, but is actually about an hour. I zone out and decide to resume my game of making up more stories about people when I hear the thump thump thump of someone’s shoes rapidly approaching me. I glance up and, sure enough, it’s Nina. She has on a red, green, and gray unbuttoned flannel covering a dark gray shirt. Her tight, black pants are paired with bright red converses and she’s braided her honey hair in a way that makes her look like she’s wearing a crown. I study her face.

  Oh, she is pissed. I cringe at the surprising anger covering her usually soft features.

  She stops abruptly at the edge of my table and slams her hands on its surface. I flinch.

  I never flinch, but she kind of scares me and I don’t know why.

  “Did you threaten Sara?”

  I can’t even answer. All I can do is roll my eyes. Is she serious?

  “Fal.” She pushes my name out between her gritted teeth and my chest aches. She’s pissed at me and, for some reason, I don’t like it at all. I would usually shrug off someone’s attitude and leave, but her anger is rolling off her in waves and drowning me in an ocean of guilt.

  “Yes. I did.” No point in lying now.

  “What the hell! Why?” She glares at me like I’ve murdered her family.

  “Wait.” I hold up my hands in front of my face in defense. “I know Sara must have told you what I said or why I threatened her. What was it?” I think if Nina knew the truth about the conversation, she wouldn’t be this mad. Sara doesn’t strike me as the truth-telling type.

  Nina becomes flustered, rolls her shoulders back, and crosses her arms over her chest. “She told me you said she needed to stay away from me.” She furrows her brow, showing every ounce of how not okay she is with me supposedly saying that.

  I can’t help it. I start laughing loudly.

  “What the hell is so funny, Fal?” she raves, appearing as if she wants to hit me over the head with one of the vacant chairs around her.

  “What’s funny is that’s what Sara said to me. I told her not to threaten me or she would regret it.” My eyes grow sinister with the memory and I look back to Nina. Her face is showing both sadness and annoyance. I shake off the darkness and focus my attention on her.

  “Did I upset you?” My voice leaves my lips in a soothing whisper I didn’t know I possessed.

  Nina shakes her head, pulls out the chair beside me, and flops into the seat.

  “No, it’s just Sara. I’ve told her several times how we are friends and nothing more than that. I thought I made her understand.” She rests her chin in her hand and hopelessness swims in her stormy sea-turned sapphire eyes.

  So, I was right. Sara does want to be more than friends with Nina. I’m instantly uncomfortable.

  “Did..something happen to make her think you were interested?” I ask and immediately regret it. I don’t want to know. I don’t.

  I do.

  No, I don’t.

  Nina’s face turns red. Bright red. The color of embarrassment. My chest grumbles. “It was a drunken accident. I had just gotten dumped and I was desperate. Sara and I were best friends and she was there for me through all of it. She took me out to a bar and I drank away my feelings. I…” she pauses and she drops her head in her hands, “I kissed her. I shouldn’t have. It escalated very quickly and…well..” I shuffle in my seat, uncomfortable as hell. “Anyway, I know it was wrong. I know. We talked it out the next day and everything was fine. She was acting normal. Until recently..” Her eyes grow wide and she shies away from me.

  “What is that face?” I ask, trying to ignore the ache in my chest at what she just told me.

  Man, coffee must give me heartburn.

  “Oh, I uh…” she clears her throat and sits up straight. “I’ve just talked about you to her some. It must have made her jealous, I guess.” Nina shifts her eyes to everywhere but me.

  Why is she talking about me? She must have told Sara how I got her out of that situation with that rapist/murderer guy. I guess it would be enough to make the girl jealous. She wasn’t there to save the day. A smugness spreads through me at the thought. Nina clears her throat and I shake off the smothering pride.

  “So, what are you doing here again?” Nina inquires, looking at me curiously and rapidly changing the subject.

  “Well, I’m taking it easy before I have to…be somewhere later.” I trip over my explanation. I hope she realizes I don’t plan on elaborating. She makes talking hard for me.

  She seems to get the hint and nods. “Right. Well, does that mean you are free to do things for a little while?” Nina peers over at me shyly and hopeful.

  “What do you mean by ‘things’?” I ask, probably sounding like a genius. Nina giggles.

  “Like, would you want to go for a walk with me or something?” She tilts her head and some of her wavy, honey hair fa
lls from her braid.

  Say no, Fal. I fight to convince myself.

  “Yeah, sure,” pours out of my mouth instead. I groan inwardly, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to find out more about Nina. She’s like a mystery novel I want to solve before the book leaves me at a cliffhanger.

  I push myself out of the chair and follow Nina out of The Bean. We walk down the street I remember she said she lives on without saying anything for a few minutes. It isn’t awkward though; it’s soothing and comfortable. She walks on my left side and I sneak a glance at her out of the corner of my eye. The breeze tousles the pieces of her hair that have broken free from its braid and they blow across her face. More freckles are lightly concealed under her makeup. I wonder how many she has hiding under there.

  “So,” she begins, catching me off guard and I snap my eyes away from her face to my own black converses. “Have you ever played the question game?” She grins at me with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. I hate saying no and disappointing her.

  “I’m afraid not.” I cut my eyes at her. “What is it?”

  “We go back and forth asking questions to each other.”

  I cough in surprise. There are so many questions that she can ask that I can’t answer. That wouldn’t be very fair.

  “Don’t worry. If I get too personal, you can be vague or just not answer.” She must see the panic and caution on my face. “Is that fair?” I hesitate.

  I want to play. I want to know more about her and playing this little game gives me the chance. I will solve the mysterious Nina.

  “Yeah, okay that’s fair,” I concede, nodding my head.

  “Awesome.” She grins so wide, it pulls a small smile from my lips. “Okay so, what’s your favorite animal?”

  “Uh…” I expertly start. The question surprises me. I smirk. “A black wolf.” I snort at myself. “They are dark and stealthy. Their prey never sees what’s coming.” I side glance her and that eyebrow is raised. “What?”

  “Oh, nothing. It just makes sense.” I stop breathing. “You’re so dark and mysterious. It fits you. Or, at least what I know about you.” She giggles and I suck in air.

 

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