Milayna

by Michelle K. Pickett

  We both fell hard. My head bounced against the floor. Stars, like Christmas twinkle lights, flickered in front of my eyes. The gold-and-bronze mosaic floor blurred. I tried to move, but my body was heavy, weighted.

  Oh, shit, I didn’t think that would work.

  Fat, red legs scurried toward me. Damn goblins. I was so over them! I reached my hand toward them and made a scooping motion. Their fat, red bodies suspended in air, stumpy legs kicking and violent curses spilling from their mouths. I moved my hand to the pit and dropped them in, back to their homeland down under.

  Just like an invisible dump truck.

  I tried to sit up, but I couldn’t move. Lifting my head off the ground, I could see I was covered in debris. One swipe of my arm and the cement and pieces of ceiling tile flew off me. I jumped up and searched for Azazel.

  He rushed me. I did a side sweep. He fell forward, trying to catch his balance with his hand on the ground. But his feet tangled in the hem of his robe and he face-planted in front of me.

  “Sucks wearing a dress, huh?” I circled him. He planted his palms on the floor and tried to push himself up. I put my foot in the middle of his back, pressing him down. At the same time, I motioned for the barricade to lift from the door. People burst through, yelling and shouting as they stormed into the room. Out of my peripheral vision, I saw my group head straight for Jake and the rest of his little club.

  Azazel used the small window when my attention was diverted, flipping and rolling out of reach. He stood with his back to me.

  A chunk of plaster ceiling fell a few feet from me. I reached my hand toward it and flung it at Azazel. His back was still turned. He was close enough to the pit. If I could get one good hit in, he’d fall in and the nightmare would end.

  I guided the piece of ceiling toward him, closer and closer, it was almost there. I picked up speed, moving my arm faster, putting as much power behind the throw as I could. It sailed closer and closer. It was almost to him. Just inches. Something clutched my stomach, excitement, anticipation, I wasn’t sure. But my body had a current run through it, from my toes to the tips of my hair.

  It’s closer. So close. Almost. It’s going to hit him…

  His arm shot out, his hand flat, palm facing the piece of ceiling. “Did you really think it’d be that easy?” He turned to face me. The piece of ceiling moved slightly as he did. “Are you really that daft, to think your powers are stronger than mine?”

  I pressed against the ceiling. He pressed back. It hung between us, moving a little one way and then the other. My arm started to shake against the force.

  It must be almost time. Just hold on…

  A tingling began in the middle of my chest and radiated down my arm. I felt it move through each finger. A wind blew through the church. My long, red waves whipped wildly around my head like Medusa’s snakes.

  The piece of ceiling started to move toward Azazel. He grunted with his effort to push it back. I pushed as hard as I could. My body vibrated from the force.

  “Enough!” he screamed. He pulled back his arm and thrust it to the side, sending the piece of ceiling sailing to the left. I squeezed my hand together, and the chunk of ceiling exploded in the air. The dust carried away on the wind circling the room.

  For a brief moment, Azazel looked shocked. He masked it quickly when I picked up a piece of concrete pillar and aimed it at him. I advanced. He raised his hand and pushed back. I pushed harder. Azazel took a step backward before he swiped his hand to the side, sending the chunk of concrete with it.

  I immediately sent another large piece of building at Azazel. I shoved it at him, and he grunted with the effort of pushing it away. “What’s the matter? Are you getting tired of our game?” I taunted.

  Azazel narrowed his yellow eyes at me. “You’ll be sorry you screwed with me, Milayna.”

  I smirked and guided the piece of cement above his head. I let it hover over him. He tried to swipe it away. I held it there. It was difficult at first, but it became easier and easier to resist his attempts to push me away. “It’s raining.” I gave him a slow smile.

  “What?” He glared at me.

  I squeezed, and the piece of concrete hovering over his head crumbled into dust. It rained over him, sticking in the goo that slicked back his jet-black hair.

  I felt a current of electricity run over my skin, under my skin, through my veins, my bones. It wasn’t painful, but it didn’t exactly feel warm and fuzzy either.

  A hot, dry breeze began swirling. It grew stronger and stronger around me, like I was the source, my energy created it. My hair whipped around my face, and I had to shield my eyes.

  “Dad, what’s happening?” I yelled over the roaring wind. “Your powers are greater than his. You’re closing his portal.”

  “It’s not time! I still have ten seconds,” Azazel shrieked.

  “There’s one problem with that. Birth certificates aren’t timed to the second. She was born at exactly thirty-seven seconds after one o’clock. The hospital rounded up, listing her birth time as one minute after one. If you weren’t so blinded by your own arrogance and greed for power, you wouldn’t have waited until the last possible second to squeeze the most power out of her if she’d turn. It’s over, Azazel,” my dad yelled.

  “No!” Azazel fisted his hands and put them on either side of his head. A scream tore from deep within him.

  The earth began to close, the screams of the damned growing quieter as the ground shifted. The demons flying around our heads swooped down into the craters. The last of the hobgoblins disappeared.

  Chay wrapped me against him and kissed my forehead. “You are a badass, Milayna Jackson. Remind me to never piss you off.”

  With one last howl of anger, Azazel pushed Jake and the others into the pit, before following them himself.

  The room grew silent. The quiet buzzed around us as we watched the earth move back into place.

  “It’s over,” Muriel said, her voice small and trembling.

  “Until next time,” I whispered, running the back of my hand across my forehead to wipe away the sweat and grime. There was a sour taste in the back of my throat, covering a dull ache. I licked my lips and blew out a breath. Something rolled in my stomach and coiled around my insides. It felt heavy. Not painful. But I knew it was there… waiting. “I should have killed him.”

  I’d regret that decision.


  The doorbell rang at five o’clock. Ben’s feet thudded down the hallway. I heard him open the door. He squealed, and I rushed down the stairs.

  Ben!

  I stepped off the bottom step and saw Ben standing at the door, smiling. “You scared the crap outta me! Who is it, Frog Freckle?” I ruffled his hair.

  “Don’t call me that.” He turned with a frown and shuffled away.

  I peeked around the door and my heart fluttered. “Chay,” I breathed.

  “Hey.” He reached for my hand and I weaved my fingers with his seamlessly, almost without thought. Like they knew where they belonged and were drawn there.

  “I didn’t know you were coming over.”

  “No? You should have. I mean, we do have a date.” He grinned.

  “Huh?” My gaze snapped to his.

  We do? I don’t remember making any plans for after my birthday. I didn’t figure I’d be here to keep them.

  “Yeah, you told me if the Hounds of Hell thing didn’t work out, you’d go out to dinner with me.”

  I laughed. “Oh, yeah. I do remember that.”

  “So? Are you ready?”

  “Uh, no.” I looked down at my sweatpants with holes in the knees and Chay’s sweatshirt.

  “Hurry up!” he said when I stood there. “We have reservations.”

  “Where?” I looked closely at him then. He was dressed in a shirt and tie. I’d never seen him in anything but jeans and a T-shirt or sweats.

  Where are we going? He’s dressed… wow. I didn’t think anything could look better on him than his jeans, but man, does he c
lean up good.

  “The Grey Goose.”

  “But… but they’re booked for weeks in advance—” I touched my fingers to my lips and squeezed my eyes shut. My skin tingled from the top of my head to my toes. My breath hitched when I opened my eyes and my gaze found his—the blue-green swirling together making a deep turquoise.

  He cupped my face and skimmed his thumb over my cheek. I leaned into his hand. “I know. I made the reservation the day I asked you. I told you everything was going to work out, Milayna. When will you start listening to me?”

  I pulled him in the door and kissed him. “Thank you,” I whispered against his lips.

  “Anything for you.”

  Knife. Bloody hands. Blue-green eyes.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head to erase the images.

  Chay put his thumb under my chin and tilted my face to his. “Everything okay?”

  I smiled. “Yeah, it’s great. I’ll go change.”

  I hurried upstairs, fighting the vision I could feel pushing its way into my consciousness. My head throbbed, my stomach felt as though it was in a vice. I made my way to my bed and sat on the edge, my arms wrapped around my knees. I squeezed my eyes closed and waited for the vision to show me what it needed me to see.

  Blood. Knife. Blue-green eyes.

  And then I heard it:

  “I’m coming to finish what Azazel started, Milayna…”

  Angel: Natasha Bedingfield

  Unwritten: Natasha Bedingfield

  On the way Down: Ryan Cabrera

  Higher: Creed

  One last breath: Creed

  Collide: Howie Day

  Notorious:Duran Duran

  Sweet Sacrifice: Evanescence

  Whisper: Evanescence

  Be Still: The Fray

  Like You’ll Never See Me Again: Alicia Keys

  I’d Come for You: Nickelback

  If Everyone Cared: Nickelback

  Why Don’t You and I: Santana and Alex Band

  Fall for You: Secondhand Serenade

  Everything Has Changed: Taylor Swift & Ed Sheeran

  While the idea for a story may come from one mind, the resulting book comes from many hands. Several people deserve my thanks and appreciation for the development of Milayna, and I know I will surely forget someone. So if that someone happens to be you, trust me, you have a special place not only in this book, but in my heart.

  First to my husband, your never-ending support and encouragement are priceless to me. There are many days I question, “Why, just why?” You are always there to answer, “Because you are meant to.” I have it in writing, Larry. And you know words are eternal, as is my love.

  To my family, I know there are times you get sick to death of only seeing the top of my head peeking over my laptop lid. But I also know that even in your frustration, you support me. I see it in the monster drawings and story ideas Evan gives me. I hear it every time one of my twins, Aleigha or Alana, tell someone their mom is an author. I know it because only a family that loves me would listen to my never-ending ‘what-if-I-wrote-it-this-way’ questions. I love you all.

  To the staff at Clean Teen Publishing… what’s there to say? You are amazeballs. Thank you for making me part of your family. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. You are all “Rockstars,” and I thank God for you every day.

  Anna Masrud, thank you for all your tireless work, under ridiculous deadlines, always with the most positive, encouraging attitude. I’d work with you again in a second.

  Bloggers, reviewers, and the online writing community as a whole—authors would be nowhere without you. Technology opened a door to a new way of marketing our books, but you pushed us through. Your work spreading the word about the books you love is priceless, and appreciated by me, and all authors. A simple thank you doesn’t seem near enough for what you do.

  Finally, to the people who have spent their time reading my story. I never can seem to find the right words to express the amount of thankfulness and appreciation I have for you. Thank you for spending time with me and my crazy mind and the people who live there. There are so many books to choose from, and I am very honored and humbled that you chose to spend your time with mine.

  I hope to see you for the second book in the trilogy, “Milayna’s Angel.” Azazel won’t join us, but someone meaner and sneakier will enter Milayna’s life, and will stop at nothing, and use anyone, in attempt to finish what Azazel started!

  If I possess one molecule of talent it is from Him and it is to Him I give glory,

  ~Michelle

  Author’s Note: Nothing in this book is religiously or biblically based and should not be taken as such. This is a work of fiction, meant for entertainment purposes only. If you have religious questions, I encourage you to speak with your clergy member, or visit www.crossview.net.

  If asked, Michelle will tell you she is a wife, mother, author, reader, and M&M connoisseur, especially peanut butter, which she eats way too many of while she writes. Red Bull or Monster Khaos are her coffee of choice, she has an abnormal obsession with hoodies and can’t write without one, and hates to cook, but loves to watch cooking shows. Michelle is a hopeful romantic who loves a swoon-worthy ending that gives her butterflies for days, and books that keep her thinking of them long after she’s turned the last page.

  Born and raised in Flint, Michigan, she now lives in a sleepy suburb of Houston, Texas with her extremely supportive husband, four amazing children, a 125-pound rescued “lap dog,” and two crazy rescued cats.

  Michelle writes across genres in the young adult and new adult age groups and loves to hear from readers, bloggers and other authors!

  Website:www.Michelle-Pickett.com

  Email:Michelle@Michelle-Pickett.com

  Blog:www.Michelle-Pickett.com/blog

  Facebook: www.Facebook.com/michellepickettauthor

  Twitter:https://www.twitter.com/michelle_kp