Chaos
The Omega Group Series
Book 4
Andrea Domanski
www.AndreaDomanski.com
Copyright © 2015 by Andrea Domanski
Cover Art Copyright © 2015 by Rebecca Sterling
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Send all inquiries to www.AndreaDomanski.com
First Printing, 2015
Web Info
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The Omega Group Series
Crossfire (Book 1)
Greco (Book 1.5)
Rogue (Book 2)
Pandora (Book 3)
Chaos (Book 4)
Table of Contents
Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3
Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7
Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11
Chapter 12 / Chapter 13 / Chapter 14 / Chapter 15
Chapter 16 / Chapter 17 / Chapter 18 / Chapter 19
Chapter 20 / Chapter 21 / Chapter 22 / Chapter 23
Chapter 24 / Chapter 25 / Chapter 26 / Chapter 27
Chapter 28 / Chapter 29 / Epilogue
A Note from the Author
About the Author
Prologue
Princess Ann County, Virginia
August 1740
Grace Sherwood lay in her bed, surrounded by three generations of family, awaiting the death that should have claimed her long ago. A warm summer breeze wafted through the window of her sparse room, bringing with it the smell of rosemary. Those herbs continued to flourish even as she deteriorated. Her weakened heart would soon stop beating, ending a tumultuous life. Her legacy, however, would live on like her garden.
At the age of eighty, Grace felt ready to leave the world behind. She’d raised three strong sons, buried a loving husband, and toiled on their farm until she could no longer grip a yolk. She’d done well despite the intentions of many.
More than half a lifetime ago, in 1697, Grace suffered the humiliation of being accused of witchcraft for the first time. Although the charge of using supernatural means to kill a neighbor’s bull proved both false and ludicrous, it began a streak of allegations that plagued her for decades. She’d been branded a witch many times by people who blamed her for the loss of their crops and livestock.
Unlike other colonies, Virginia shied away from witch trials. They didn’t allow hysteria to take hold and, instead, required proof of magical wrongdoing. Grace stood accused on many occasions, but each time the court either found her innocent, or simply declined to prosecute.
That changed when she was accused of using magic to kill her neighbor’s unborn child.
Perhaps the court had simply grown tired of having her as a defendant, or perhaps the death of a child still in its mother’s womb hardened them to Grace’s plight. Whatever the reason, the justices ordered a trial by ducking.
She’d been trussed up like one of the animals on her farm and brought to a plantation near the mouth of Lynnhaven River. Six justices rowed her into the river and threw her overboard. They believed the water to be so pure that it would reject a witch’s presence. Had Grace sunk to the bottom, she would have been proved innocent. But after being pushed below the surface, despite her best efforts, she floated back up.
For eight long years she’d been incarcerated. The small window in her cell allowed her to watch the town folk live their lives without even a glance in her direction. When finally released, Grace returned to her homestead, tending her farm and gardens.
Looking back on that time in her life, Grace couldn’t help but smile. The horrors of those years changed her in so many ways. She’d been innocent of every crime, yet she’d been made to pay for them anyway. At the time, she hadn’t been able to see past her anger.
Now, gazing at the loving faces of her sons and grandchildren, and listening to the muffled giggles of her many great-grandchildren, she thanked the powers that be for showing her the path she needed to follow all those years ago.
She’d learned a valuable lesson in that filthy prison cell. When good things happened, ordinary people thanked God for the blessings. When bad things happened, they blamed the devil. The witch trials were simply their way of putting a face to the evil they feared, and exerting control over it.
Her eldest son, John, brushed her cheek. “Mother? Is it time?”
“I believe so,” she whispered.
Her last moments were spent basking in the glory of her accomplishments. She’d raised a happy and healthy family. They would bring joy and strength to the colonies for generations to come. But that was only one of her sources of pride.
She’d kept her greatest achievement secret for more than thirty years. Even her family, whom she loved more than anything on this earth, knew nothing of the power she’d created. Those justices would surely roll in their graves if they knew the plan they’d helped put in motion.
Grace slowly turned her head toward the open window. The sun had long since set, leaving only the full moon ready to guide her spirit to its new home when she passed. It seemed to shine brighter that night, casting long shadows in its wake. But the heavens weren’t what held her attention.
Spread throughout the darkened fields, the members of Sherwood Coven chanted incantations meant to help her cross to the next plane of existence. They kept their voices low, so as not to alert her family to their presence, but Grace knew the words they spoke. She’d taught them well.
Chapter 1
10 Years Ago
Sixteenth birthday. First kiss. Sun setting over the river.
No pressure. Ha.
Orano Tulay tilted his head awkwardly as he leaned in for his very first kiss. His girl had already closed her eyes and pursed her lips, so the next move needed to be his. With heart pounding in his chest, he reached out his hand but then halted the movement. He didn’t know if he should touch her or not. In the movies, men always touched the woman’s face, but that seemed really presumptuous. Every other part of her body felt completely off limits for a first kiss. He could always just let his arms hang at his sides, but that would be totally weird.
Please don’t screw this up.
Orano felt sure that everyone else his age knew exactly what to do in this situation. He, however, didn’t. He stared at the beautiful girl standing in front of him and swallowed hard. Before he could second-guess himself any more, he placed his hands on her shoulders—the least romantic spot possible—and pressed his lips to hers.
The world instantly quieted. He knew that birds still chirped in the trees above, and the river still gurgled over the rocks, but the only thing Orano could hear was his heartbeat.
Her impossibly soft lips parted, and he took that as an invitation to do the same. His tongue instinctively darted out, swirling with hers and bringing the taste of her Chap Stick into his mouth. Nothing had ever tasted sweeter.
She pulled back and gazed up at him through hooded eyes, only to have the moment interrupted by the shrill ring of her cell phone. Orano ached to pull her close, as though doing so would keep the world at bay a while longer, but instead stepped back while she answered it.
“Hello?” Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke. She paused while waiting for whoever spoke on the other end to finish. “Okay. I’m on my way now.”
Disappointment flared at those last words, but Orano kept his face neutra
l. “You need to go?” he asked.
“Yeah. My godfather’s in town to help with the move, and Mom wants me back. Sorry.”
Orano stared in silence, knowing he should say something but unable to think of anything that wouldn’t make him feel stupid.
As though sensing his fear, she smiled up at him and gave him a quick wink. “Happy birthday, Sparkles,” she said before trotting down the path toward her house.
He’d always hated that nickname and would have happily maimed anyone else for using it. But not her. She’d been calling him that for years and made it clear she intended to continue doing so.
Orano started the journey back to his house, pondering the sudden change in his circumstances. His mind replayed over and over again the moment where his life deviated from the expected path. That kiss changed everything. He had a smile on his face and a bounce in his step when he reached his driveway.
Not ready to end his night just yet, Orano instead took the long gravel drive leading to the old barn that sat vacant on the property behind his house. Used for many years as his hideaway, the barn had become the only place he felt truly comfortable.
For as long as he could remember, Orano didn’t deal well with people. Not just some of them, all of them. He didn’t have any mental issues or phobias; he just didn’t like how noisy people were. They talked incessantly without really saying anything and wore their overly emotional personalities like a badge of honor. Most were downright mean whenever they got the opportunity. He’d spent the majority of his life either tolerating or ignoring pretty much everyone around him.
His mother didn’t help. Calling her overprotective would have been a serious understatement. She wanted to know where he was, and with whom, at every moment. It’d been that way since his first day of school. Orano always assumed she’d worried about him being teased over having a white mom. But after years of living with her over-bearing nature, he realized his mother was just wired that way. Eventually, he’d grown accustomed to her brand of crazy, but she’d gotten a lot worse over the last few months. Lucky for him, he only had one friend, which made reporting to his mom a lot easier.
As a single mother, she’d moved them from Nigeria, where she’d worked as a missionary, with Orano still a baby. Why she’d chosen small-town Tennessee to relocate to, he’d never understand. But no matter how much she hovered, Orano couldn’t help but love and admire the woman. She didn’t talk much about her life before Tennessee, but he got the distinct impression it hadn’t been pleasant. Yet, she’d had the guts to uproot herself, move halfway around the world with a baby, and start over in a brand new place. That kind of strength earned his respect, even on the occasions when she drove him nuts. Add to that the fact that she’d worked two jobs his entire life in order to make sure he never lacked anything the other kids had, and his mother proved herself a pretty spectacular woman.
Except for today.
For his birthday, after showering him with kisses and hugs, his mother promptly grounded him for the day. Oh, she’d given it a different name and told him he’d have the best birthday ever, but that didn’t change the fact that she’d confined him to their house and even taken the day off work to make sure he stayed there. He asked her what he’d done wrong, but she wouldn’t answer. “This isn’t punishment,” was all she said, like that would make him feel better about being imprisoned.
After hours of pretending they were having some sort of special mommy-and-me day, Orano had had enough of board games and old home movies. When his mom went to the kitchen to clean up after dinner, he did something he’d never done before. He defied a direct order from his mother.
Although he’d grown to be more than a head taller than her, Orano’s mother still intimidated the crap out of him. Her strength and stubbornness had become legendary in the small town, and people learned early on not to mess with Cherry Tulay. Sneaking out of the house against his mother’s wishes would garner a steep punishment, but Orano didn’t care. He just needed to get away for a while. His mom’s clinginess had grown to epic proportions.
He’d intended to go to the barn for a while but knew his mother would look for him there. So, instead, he took a walk along the riverbank. He figured an hour would be enough time for him to clear his head but not so long as to make his mother go postal.
That decision turned out to be the best one he’d made in his entire life.
Now, almost two hours after deserting his mother, Orano couldn’t bring himself to go home. He wanted to hold onto the memories of the night for a few more minutes, so he entered his hideaway.
The smells in the old barn filled his nostrils as soon as he crossed the rickety door’s threshold. Although no animals had been kept there for a very long time, all of the smells associated with them—old wood, hay, leather—still filled the structure. Orano inhaled deeply as the serenity of the place pushed all thoughts of his impending punishment aside.
Leaving only one thought lingering. The memory of his very first kiss. The kiss he’d shared less than half an hour ago with a girl who, up until that moment, had been his best friend. Had she become his girlfriend with that one kiss? Would she regret it tomorrow? Did she regret it already?
Orano forced his mind to quiet the worrisome voices. All of those questions would be answered. For now, he wanted to simply remember the moment in all its glory.
“Orano!” His mother’s scream wiped all thoughts of kisses away. She barged through the door and grabbed him in a tight hug. “I was so worried about you. Are you okay? Did something happen?” She grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back far enough to inspect every inch of him.
Orano felt his temper rise despite his mother’s apparent concern. She’d gone too far when she put him under house arrest, and now she’d interrupted the memory of the best thing to ever happen to him.
He pushed her away. “What is wrong with you? You’re acting crazy, Mom. Just leave me alone.”
Her blue eyes narrowed and her jaw set, while she squared her shoulders and placed her hands on her hips. His mother’s look of worry morphed to one of anger.
“Excuse me?” she said, cocking her head to the side. “What did you just say to me?”
Under normal circumstances, Orano would have immediately apologized for his comments. He loved his mom more than anything and always treated her with respect. But tonight, emotions he rarely felt took control.
“I said, leave me alone!” he yelled at the woman who’d taken care of him his entire life. The woman who’d taught him to never lose control.
His mother’s eyes widened as though caught in a nightmare. She raised her hands slowly with her palms facing out. “Please, sweetheart. You need to calm down. Remember what I taught you. Take deep breaths and—”
“No! I’m not a child anymore. Just go back to the house and leave me alone.” Orano’s anger surged to a point that scared him. In his logical mind, he understood that the scale of his reaction didn’t fit the situation. Nothing his mom had said or done warranted that level of anger. But he couldn’t stop it. Fury spread like a hot, welcome flame flowing through his veins. The hairs on his arms rose, as every muscle in his body flexed.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Orano registered the feel of strong arms wrapping around his torso and holding him tight. The faint sound of his mother’s voice attempted to penetrate the roar in his ears but, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t focus on it. When the sensations became too much for him to contain, Orano threw back his head, flung his arms out to the sides, and bellowed a primal howl.
As though his rage had taken on physical form, it flowed through his body and down his arms until a blinding light exploded from the palms of each hand. The release felt extraordinary, like a champagne bottle being violently shaken and finally popping the cork.
Again he felt his mother’s arms tighten around his chest, clutching him. Her voice filled with an urgency Orano understood but ignored. His rage dissipated, as the light pulled it from his body. The
once blinding beam became a glowing trickle before petering out completely.
Orano slowly drew his hands to his front, warily eying the palms he felt sure would be horrifically damaged and mutilated. They weren’t. He flipped them front and back searching for some sign of what just happened but saw nothing except the hands he’d always had. He felt no pain, just a slight tingling sensation that had already almost completely abated.
The tingling felt pleasant, but the growing discomfort in his chest did not. He thought at first his lungs were constricted, but a deep breath dispelled that assumption. The round of hacking coughs that followed, however, brought him back to his present circumstances.
Fire crawled up the walls on either side of him, hungrily devouring the old, dry wood. Sparks flew as splintered boards ignited, setting off more blazes as they fell. Thick, black smoke filled the air until he labored for every iota of oxygen.
My mom’s in here.
Orano twisted around, searching for his mother. Her arms had fallen from his chest mere seconds ago—or perhaps it was minutes—so she would be close. The air became lighter as he lowered himself to the barn’s floor. His mother’s prone form lay three feet away.
“No!” he screamed as he hurled himself to her side. Grabbing her shoulder, he turned her over, only to find her eyes closed and her chest barely moving. With the determination born of a son’s love, he slid one arm behind her back and the other under her knees. Taking as deep a breath as he could under the weight, Orano rose up into the heavy smoke.
The old door hung ajar, swinging on rusted hinges as the flames moved the air. Orano held his breath and ran with his shoulders hunched to protect his mom from falling debris. Embers burned through his clothing and hair as he burst across the crumbling threshold and fell to his knees. Orano gulped in the clean air, waiting for his mother to do the same.
She didn’t. She lay in the grass, unmoving.
Chaos (Book 4) (The Omega Group) Page 1