THIS book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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The Innocent
Copyright ©2015 Michelle K. Pickett
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-63422-057-6
Cover Design by: Marya Heiman
Typography by: Courtney Nuckels
Editing by: Cynthia Shepp
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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
Playlist
About the Author
Acknowledgements
They’re there if you look. If you look hard enough, you’ll see them. Or at least sense them. I never had to look far. They were always around me. I’d grown used to it. It was my normal. But Benjamin was an innocent. He wasn’t used to the demons and the evil they brought with them. But he would learn. And then he would choose—evil or innocence.
***
The vision started in the middle of class. I hated when that happened, causing me to miss the lecture. Sighing, I tried to leave the lecture hall without being noticed. I tripped over the gigantic feet of the guy who sat next to me.
Great. So much for not drawing attention to myself.
I walked to the bathroom and locked myself in a stall. It made me feel like Superman. He used phone booths. I used bathroom stalls. His was much cooler—and cleaner.
Benjamin. A black cloud hovered over him. He’s playing, laughing. A lightning bolt zigzags through the sky above him.
The vision disappeared.
I stood in the disgusting bathroom stall with toilet paper stuck to the dirty, wet floor and waited for something else. There had to be more to the vision than a black cloud. That could mean anything from a thunderstorm that scares Benjamin to an argument with a friend. I grabbed my stuff and hurried out of the bathroom, trying to dial my phone and hold my books at the same time.
“Mom, is Ben okay?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I just had a vision about him. Did he say anything about a fight at school or a bad dream? Anything?”
“No. What’s going on, Milayna?”
“Nothing, I’m sure it’s fine. You know how these visions are. What’s the weather like there?” I chewed my bottom lip.
“Stormy,” she said.
I sighed in relief. That’s what the vision was about. My brother was scared of storms.
“Mom, I gotta go to my next class. Tell Dad and Ben I love them. Talk to you soon.”
“Milayna? Is everything alright?” Her voice was tinged with a tone of worry.
“Right as rain as Grams would say. I love you, Mom. ‘Bye.”
I clicked off the phone, shoved it in my purse with the rest of the crap, and trudged off to my next class. Economics. Oh, what fun I had in that class. Yeah, right.
***
Chay.
I shot up in bed with a gasp. I’d been dreaming of him again. It’d been almost five months since I’d last seen him. He left without a word to anyone. As far as I knew, his parents didn’t even know where he was.
I used to have visions about him. Sometimes, I’d see a glimpse of a sign or hear a word or two that would give me a clue as to where he was. I hadn’t had one of those visions in a long time. The last showed him in New Orleans. But the vision didn’t give enough information about where he was in New Orleans or what he was doing there. His parents went and looked for him anyway, but they came up empty. I hadn’t had another vision since.
But, I dreamed of him often. He was my life, my soul, my one true love. And I missed him terribly. It felt as though he took a piece of my heart with him.
I still wore his ring around my neck, hoping he’d come back to me. But days slid into weeks, and weeks into months without word from him, and my hope started to fade. But the dreams still came to haunt me, taunt me with what I couldn’t have.
I blew a piece of sweaty hair out of my face and climbed down from my bunk, careful not to wake my dorm mate. It was four o’clock. I wouldn’t be able to sleep again. Sitting at the built-in desk under my loft bed, I opened my economics book—I really hated that class—and read the material for the exam later that week. You knew you had a bad case of insomnia when three chapters of an economics textbook wouldn’t put you to sleep.
I studied until seven that morning. I couldn’t wait any longer. Courtesy dictated I should wait until eight, but I didn’t. I grabbed the phone and called Chay’s mother. She answered on the second ring.
“Good morning, Milayna.”
“Hi, Mrs. Roberts. I’m sorry to call so early but I… has there been any news?”
“No.” She sighed. I could hear the frustration in her voice and… heartbreak. I hurt from his absence. I couldn’t imagine what his mother must feel, the level of hurt and worry that would come when your only child disappeared without a trace. “Another dream?” Her question pulled me out of my thoughts.
“Yes.”
“Nothing new?”
“No, I’m sorry.” I pinched the bridge of my nose between my fingers and thumb.
“It’s okay, Milayna.”
It wasn’t okay. I was the reason he’d left. I was responsible. If I could have just one vision to show me where he was, one good lead that would give us enough information to find him.
“I just needed to check. I’ll call if I see anything…” I let my words trail off.
“I know you will. And I’ll call you if there is any word from him,” Mrs. Roberts promised.
“Thank you.” We ended our call after that. There really wasn’t anything else to say. Chay was still gone. I still blamed myself. Mr. and Mrs. Roberts tried to tell me it was all right, that it wasn’t my fault. I didn’t believe them, and I couldn’t believe they didn’t blame me on some level. I would if the situation were reversed.
***
“You sound depressed. I’m coming down there this weekend and we’ll do something fun. Take your mind off things,” Muriel said. My best friend and cousin was also another demi-angel.
“I doubt you’ll be able to t
ake my mind off what’s bothering me, but I’d love to see you. I miss you.”
Muriel went to the community college in South Bay, where we’d grown up. That had been my plan too. But that had been before Chay left. I decided to go away to college when he left. I hoped if I got away from South Bay, it’d help me get my mind off Chay, help me move on. So far, it hadn’t done anything except make me homesick. I still thought of Chay. It didn’t matter if I went to school in Ann Arbor or Timbuktu.
“We’ll go shopping or something. Walk through all the I-can-never-afford-it shops around town and eat pizza and ice cream until our pants won’t button.”
I laughed. “Okay.” Some people claimed diamonds were a girl’s best friend. My motto was ice cream was a girl’s best friend—the more chocolate and whipped cream, the better.
Muriel kept her promise and came to Ann Arbor that weekend. We talked and laughed, and her visit did take my mind off Chay for a while.
We were at the Museum of Fine Arts when we stopped to admire a painting of a beautiful girl sitting in a meadow, flowers blanketing the ground around her. Her hand was raised and a dove perched on it. It was beautiful. I puked in front of it. Muriel knew exactly what was wrong. A vision.
“You know, if you didn’t like the painting, you just had to say so.” Muriel smiled and helped me to the restroom where I locked myself in a stall and waited for the vision. My stomach twisted in knots and my head throbbed. It was always like that when I had a vision. Although, I didn’t always yak on someone else’s shoes. That was a bonus.
Benjamin in his bedroom with his Legos. I can smell his hair, fresh from his bath, and the faint scent of laundry detergent on his clothes. A shadow moves across the wall. It stops and hovers over him.
Closing my eyes, I pressed the heels of my palms against them. I concentrated on the shadow. It was a person, but I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman. Benjamin didn’t seem to notice. He just played with his Legos.
The shadow reached out. A breeze blows across Benjamin, moving wisps of hair over his forehead. He reaches up and pushes the strawberry-blonde hair out of his eyes.
My heart rate increased. It hammered against my ribs as if it were trying to bust through. Adrenaline flooded my bloodstream with every thud, and I held my breath, waiting for the vision to show me something else. Who was the shadow…?
“Milayna.”
The images fizzled. I sucked in a breath through my gritted teeth. It was Benjamin’s voice calling me in the vision. I dropped my hands from my eyes and put one on the wall of the bathroom stall to steady myself.
Why am I having visions of Ben?
“Milayna?” I jumped at the sound of Muriel’s voice. I was so focused on the vision that I’d forgotten where I was.
“Yeah… I’m coming.” I opened the stall door and looked into Muriel’s worried eyes.
“What was it?”
“Benjamin. It’s the second vision I’ve had of him.”
“What do they show?” She rubbed her arms up and down with her hands as if she were cold, even though the bathroom was warm and stuffy.
“Nothing really, just Ben playing. But he called out to me in this vision.”
Muriel and I left the museum and went back to the dorm. We watched a movie, gorging ourselves on pizza and ice cream. It was great to see her again, but I couldn’t stop thinking of my visions of Ben. I had an uneasy feeling. My visions always had a meaning, a reason, a way to show me how to help someone—to right a wrong.
Why does Benjamin need my help?
“You’ll keep an eye on him?” I asked Muriel on Sunday afternoon as she climbed into her car.
“You know I will.”
“Call me if anything—”
“I know.” She smiled. “I’ll call if there is anything wrong or even if I get the feeling something is wrong. I love Benjamin. I won’t let anything happen to him.” She squeezed me in a tight hug.
I hugged her back. “Thanks. Be careful going home.”
I watched her car disappear down the road. The uneasy feeling still smoldered inside me, like embers that waited for the slightest breeze to set them aflame.
Benjamin, why am I having visions of you?
***
“You’re going to the party, right?” Sheryl asked me. We shared a dorm room. She was cool and we got along fine, but she was a partier. I was a studier. The two didn’t always mix.
“No, I have too much—”
“Do not say homework. It’s Friday night. It’s okay to take a break once in a while.”
I’d been away at college for six weeks. It was mid-October and everyone was celebrating Oktoberfest, which was a fancy name for drinking, partying, and hooking up. I wasn’t one for the party scene. I didn’t drink. I hated the feeling of losing control that came with getting drunk, and the hangover the next day wasn’t so great either. So I stuck with Coke and left the heavy stuff for Sheryl. And I didn’t want to hook up with anyone. My love life was a mess as it was. I didn’t need to add anyone else to the mix.
“Maybe I’ll come for a little while.” I didn’t really want to go. I just told her I might to get her off my back. It didn’t work. Figures.
Geez, I can’t lie to anyone. Maybe it’s a freakin’ demi-angel thing.
“That means no. You need to get out and socialize, Milayna. You can’t spend the entire four years of college locked in this dorm room with your nose in a book. Get out there—make some friends. Play the field. Do whatever, just do something.”
I rolled my eyes. Sheryl lectured me more than my mother did. “Okay, okay, I surrender. I’ll go to the party. Just… let me get changed first.”
By the time Sheryl and I got to the sorority house, the party was kickin’. People danced, drank, and played tonsil hockey in the darkened corners. The music blared. I swear the walls of the old house moved to the beat of the bass. You had to scream to be heard over it. Everyone was having a great time; I even found some people from my psych class to hang out with.
Punch was passed around in red plastic cups. I knew to stay away from that. Gelatin cubes jiggled when the platter was passed from person to person. No way was I eating those. I’d eaten a ton of them at the last party and paid for it the next day. And just for future reference, Jell-O didn’t taste nearly as good coming up as it did going down… ick.
I was dancing with a nice guy from one of my classes when it hit. My stomach twisted like someone had punched their way through my skin and was wringing it like a dirty dishrag. My head started to pound and my vision danced to the rhythm of my heartbeat, which raced.
“I’m sorry, I have to… I need, um, I’ll be back.” I stumbled away from the dance floor toward the bathroom.
“Sure. I’ll save the next dance for you.” He smiled.
I went into my phone booth… oh, right, that’s Superman. I went into a dirty bathroom that smelled like pee and vomit and waited for the vision to come.
Azazel. Four men standing next to him. Azazel says something about elements. The men walk toward my house. They’re in the living room—one picks up Benjamin and carries him outside.
My eyes flew open. I burst out of the bathroom and came face to face with Sheryl.
“Are you okay?” She stepped back from the door that almost hit her in the face.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be? But I’m tired. I’m going back to the dorm,” I said in a rush.
Benjamin was in danger. I could feel it. I saw it in my vision. At seven-years-old, he wasn’t strong enough to defend himself against demons like Azazel. He didn’t even know what he was—a demi-angel. Our father was an angel and our mother a human.
My gift, or power, as a demi-angel was visions, among other things. I had them whenever a person near me was in danger. If I could help, the vision showed me how. There was no way to control the visions, and I had to submit to them. I couldn’t fight them. If they told me to do something—to right a wrong—I was forced to do it. Period. It was nature’s way of bal
ancing good and evil. I stepped in when demons tried to hurt humans. A job I took very seriously—even if it was a major pain in the ass when it came to scheduling, dating, and just about everything else that normal people did.
Benjamin would have the same power when he fully matured as a demi-angel on his eighteenth birthday. Until then, my parents and I tried to shield him from as much as we could; a difficult task when we had a multitude of demons and goblins traipsing in and out of our lives. A seven-year-old didn’t need to know about demons. But the demons knew about him.
Hurrying back to my dorm room, I changed into something comfortable for the long drive home after throwing some clothes in a backpack. I left a note for Sheryl and then raced out of the dorm and to my car. Throwing my backpack in the backseat, I jumped in. Gunning the engine, I squealed out of the parking lot. The back end of the car fishtailed as the tires hydroplaned over the wet cement. I regained control and heaved a sigh of relief when I narrowly missed clipping the rear of the car parked next to me—the last thing I needed was an accident.
I pushed the speed limit as far as I dared on the narrow one-way roads through the city. Finally, I came to the expressway and prayed the cold, rainy weather kept the police in the donut shops for the night and I wouldn’t get a ticket.
I cruised down the highway for three hours before I came to the exit I needed. Turning onto the old, two-lane country road, I settled in for another hour drive—more if the weather didn’t let up—before I came to the turn-off that would take me home to South Bay.
I reached forward to turn on the radio when my stomach twisted so hard that it stole the breath from my lungs. I’d hoped it was the burrito I ate for lunch. But when the twisting came again, followed by a pounding headache, I knew a vision was on its way.
Not now! Not while I’m driving in this weather.
The vision didn’t care what the weather was, however. I knew it would come; it was just a matter of time. So I waited for the images to appear. My hands gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white and my fingers ached.
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