The Hybrid Series | Book 3.5 | Ascension [A Lady Sarah Novella]

by Stead, Nick

  Copyright

  A TWISTED FATE PUBLISHING BOOK

  First published 2020 by Twisted Fate Publishing

  Copyright © 2020 Nick Stead

  The right of Nick Stead to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and scenarios are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Twisted Fate Publishing Ltd

  115A Armitage Road

  Milnsbridge

  Huddersfield

  HD3 4JR

  United Kingdom

  www.twistedfatepublishing.com

  Dedications

  This novella is dedicated to my family for all the love and support they’ve given me over the years, particularly my cousin, Sarah, without whom there wouldn’t be a Lady Sarah to write about!

  Also to my friends who I’m lucky enough to be able to say are too many to name, but you guys know who you are. Special thanks goes to Jo, Tom (aka White), Hannah and Clare for beta reading.

  I would also like to thank my fellow writers and friends at Huddersfield Author’s Circle and Write Club for all their support and feedback on my work, and an even bigger thanks to Owen for some last minute beta reading just before the release!

  And finally, thanks to the other two founding fathers at Twisted Fate Publishing, Chris whose idea it was in the first place and Gareth – thank you for all the hard work you’ve been putting in on the cover designs and the beta reading you’ve managed to squeeze in for me as well!

  Nick

  Author’s Note

  This spin-off novella was never planned. When I first started writing the Hybrid series, it was always intended to be Nick’s story. I never dreamt I’d be writing from any of the other characters’ perspectives or delving so deep into their back stories.

  So how did it come about? Well, in 2017 I met a publisher who was keen to take on the series, starting with a re-release of the first three books as a trilogy.

  One of the things they suggested for the trilogy edition was a bonus chapter to slot in at the end which would lead in to Damned. But this was easier said than done when Damned picks up right where Vengeance leaves off!

  That left me with the dilemma of what to do for the bonus content they were asking for. The first thing that came to mind was a short prequel to Hybrid, but I ended up using that for my contribution to the Leaders of the Pack werewolf anthology. After racking my brains, it became clear the best thing would be to do a short story centred around one of the other characters, and as Lady Sarah’s been with Nick from the beginning, she seemed the natural choice for this bonus piece.

  I could easily fill a whole novel with Lady Sarah’s tale if I were to do it in full. Since it was meant to be a short story, I deliberately tried to keep to the main events in her past and the ones which tie into the main series, but it still ended up being novella length.

  Unfortunately, things didn’t work out with the publisher who asked for this bonus piece and I ended up starting Twisted Fate Publishing with fellow Huddersfield authors CM Angus and Gareth Clegg during the 2020 lockdown. We obviously didn’t go with the trilogy idea, instead keeping each instalment of the series a separate release as we brought out the revised editions, but we thought it’d be a shame to let the hard work I put into this tale go to waste.

  And so we’ve given Ascension its own release for all you Hybrid fans out there. Enjoy!

  Contents

  ASCENSION

  Dear Readers

  About the Author

  Also By Twisted Fate Publishing

  ASCENSION

  Lifeless it sat there on the table, an empty vessel awaiting a soul. Its two eye-shaped holes stared unseeing at its creator, and a slit lined with human-like teeth gaped in a vague approximation of a smile. But there was nothing human about that face. It had no nose like its orange counterparts of the modern world, lacking the character often bestowed upon those distant relatives in the here and now.

  A candle passed into the hollow frame, though the lantern was made no less eerie for the orange glow. Its creator didn’t seem to notice. This was her favourite time of the year, and she observed these ancient customs with more than just sacred duty.

  Lady Sarah of Wilton stood back to admire her handiwork. She could have had the servants carve out the turnip for her, but every year she insisted on doing it herself. All Hallows’ Eve was one of the few nights where anything might be possible. It was a night for lost souls, their one chance to find their way to Heaven through the prayers of the good Christian men and women of England. But it was also a night for spirits to walk among the living, if the oldest stories told by their pagan ancestors were to be believed. Some might think that idea terrifying. Lady Sarah was not one of them.

  She gazed into the flickering eyes she’d fashioned with such love. In the centuries to come, she would refer to it by the name coined from the term ‘Jack of the lantern’ in the eighteen hundreds, but that was still some five hundred years away yet. Her guardian against evil had no name, yet the flame seemed to give it life all the same; a fiery soul to ward off all the unwanted visitors the night might bring.

  There came a knock on her bedchamber door. It sounded too soft and hesitant to have been made by any malevolent beings come to prey on the living, and Lady Sarah was fairly confident as to who it was standing in the passage outside. Still, it always paid to be cautious. She looked to her lantern as if for guidance, searching its inhuman features for some sign she was right not to be afraid. The turnip leered back. Its soul continued to burn strong, and that was all the confirmation she needed.

  “Yes?” she called out.

  The door creaked open, a hand wrapped in a filthy bandage appearing along its edge. A young face peeked round a moment later, her eyes wary and her lips parted with unease. Inwardly, Lady Sarah sighed. The serving girl was practically quaking in the doorway. She grew tired of the girl’s anxieties, but her father had taught her a good ruler should be patient, and consider the needs of her subjects. So she held her tongue and waited for Constance to say her piece.

  As always, the girl’s fear of not observing the proper etiquette outweighed the nerves she felt in the presence of royalty. She swallowed and stepped into the chamber with a curtsy. Grime covered her from head to foot, her plain woollen tunic looking especially shabby beside the ornate dress decorated with the finest silks and furs Lady Sarah wore. “Forgive me, my Lady, but the King requests your presence in the great hall. The guests will be arriving soon.”

  “Thank you, Constance. Please tell Father I am almost ready.”

  “Yes, my Lady.”

  “And bring some more wood for the fire before it dies out.”

  The girl curtsied again and hurried away, closing the door behind her.

  Lady Sarah stayed by her ghoulish lantern a moment longer, her thoughts returning to the dead. Not all the night’s potential ghostly visitors were unwelcome, and while most of the castle’s inhabitants were excited for her father’s banquet, Lady Sarah looked to All Hallows’ Eve with the same hope she did every year. To spend one more night with her dearly departed grandmother, that was all she asked. Every year she wished for th
e same, and every year she was disappointed. Yet it did nothing to diminish the hope she felt rising in her in the days leading up to the holy night, and this particular All Hallows’ Eve was no different.

  But she was ever aware of the duty she had to the living as well as the dead, and she supposed she should finish preparing herself for the festivities. She was just about to turn away from those glowing eyes when a sudden gust of wind robbed them of the life they’d been given, along with the other candles on the table. Her chamber plunged further into darkness. Cursing, she groped her way to the window while her eyes adjusted to the gloom.

  A beautiful full moon filtered through the gap in the stones, shining so bright it cast a shadow as she reached out to close the window. The sight of it amidst the clouds was mesmerising. She would have been quite happy to stand there looking up at the sun’s pale sister for hours, had it been any other night. But it would not do to keep her father and his guests waiting, so she pulled herself away and grabbed her brush, then sat down on the bed to tackle the tangles in her dark hair, her back to the window now.

  She had barely raised the brush to her head when she saw it. A monstrous shadow, moving along the wall towards her own. Her guardian lantern had failed her. Evil had found its way into the princess’s chamber, and by the time she’d spun round to face it, her fate was already sealed.

  The year was 1356, and that was the night that changed everything.

  The incessant whine of whichever singer was currently dominating the charts brought her back to the twenty-first century. Selina had tried to pass on the love she’d developed for modern music, but Lady Sarah failed to see the attraction with ninety-nine percent of the noise all these radio stations insisted on playing. That was one thing she had in common with the young werewolf at least. He hated ‘popular’ music as much as she did.

  “Turn that rubbish off,” she ordered the human they’d hitched a lift to Doncaster with.

  For as long as he remained under her spell, he had no option but to do as she instructed. Silence filled the car again.

  She felt Selina’s eyes on her and turned to look at her three companions in the backseats. Her sister gave a slight shake of her head and a knowing smile, but as their gazes met, all sense of merriment left those turquoise eyes. Selina looked as worried about the future as she was, though her sister’s fears were most likely rooted in the ever growing threat of the Slayers. She, on the other hand, had bigger concerns, ones she did intend to share with her sister when she had the chance, but not until they were alone. It was in her nature to be secretive, and there were few she’d ever opened up to besides Selina. She was well aware how frustrating Nick often found that, but some of the things she’d kept from him were for his own good. And Zeerin had only ever been an acquaintance. It would be some time before she shared such things with him, if ever.

  Lady Sarah couldn’t see anything of Nick in the boot but she could hear the occasional growl as the car dipped into a pothole and bumped up again, no doubt aggravating his wound. He was far too young for her to ever consider as anything more than a companion and besides, he was a werewolf. She might not feel the same prejudice for lycanthropes that most of her race continued to bear, yet there was no denying the primal fury burning at the heart of werewolf kind. The vampire pirate was another matter. Her gaze shifted to him, taking in the discomfort etched across his features. He must have hated riding in the car even more than she did, but in no way did it diminish his rugged good looks. She felt her lust rising, and not for blood.

  Zeerin didn’t notice her looking at him, apparently too lost in his own thoughts. But Amy’s eyes met her own, the young human giving her an uncertain smile. Lady Sarah was quick to face forwards again. She knew what would have to be done once they reached the girl’s home in Doncaster, and it would only make the parting harder if she allowed herself to feel anything. So she sat back in her seat and retreated into her mind once more.

  She remembered her last night as a human so vividly, and yet she struggled to recall what she’d done in the daylight hours leading up to it. Sewing and reading most likely, and perhaps attending some of her father’s courts in preparation for the day she became queen. And what if she’d known it was to be her last day under the sun? Would she have spent it any differently? She barely remembered the sun’s warmth on her skin now, and the thrill of riding her beloved horse, Victor. Not that she had any need of a steed when she could run faster than any mortal animal. But she would have liked to ride again.

  She gazed out at the dark landscape rushing by the window, imagining she was on horseback instead of sitting inside this soulless machine with its distasteful fumes and unending roar. It just wasn’t the same as the feel of Victor’s muscles flowing under her, with the wind in her hair and the ground flying by beneath her feet, their every move in perfect harmony. She felt none of the freedom her steed had brought her, none of the excitement of leaning into a turn or gripping the animal tighter, knowing one wrong move may be her last. The car journey was mundane in comparison. How could humans stand to waste so much of their time in these things?

  What she wouldn’t give for one last horse ride. But the living would always fear the undead, and Victor had been no different. Not even her hypnotic powers worked – she could calm him once she’d learnt how to use them, but he’d always entered into too docile a state to respond to her riding commands. It was one of the prices she regretted paying for her vampirism. Not that Ulfarr had really given her a choice in the matter.

  Of course, the hardest part for any sane person would always be the first kill. She could still see the girl’s face. After six long centuries and countless victims, she could still see that face, refusing to fade into distant memory like all the others.

  Those features had haunted her for a time, though by now the guilt had long since withered and died. Lady Sarah closed her eyes and faced the echo of the long dead human without fear, and before she knew it she was back in 1356.

  Her eyes snapped open to the inside of her darkened bedchamber, though the shadows were surprisingly weak for the few candles holding them back. The curtains around her bed had only been closed on the one side facing the window and there was an empty chair where someone – her mother most likely – had been keeping vigil over her still form. Her gaze moved beyond the chair to the great stone walls shielding her from the outside world, and she found she could pick out every last intricate detail in the tapestries hanging there. That was strange. Usually the night concealed the beauty of the embroideries decorating her room, and yet she could see the pictures as clearly, if not clearer, as during the day.

  Lady Sarah wrinkled her nose at the damp smell emanating from the stone surrounding her, the musty scent somehow stronger and more noticeable than before. There were other odours snaking through the cool air but it was like a tangle of yarn. All the threads twisted and knotted, making it difficult to pick out every individual smell. None of these seemed particularly new, but they had only ever been a part of the background of castle life up to that point. Now they were overpowering.

  Then there were all the noises. The old fortress was quieter at night, though she thought she could hear the chink of armour as guards patrolled the castle walls, the snoring of her servants asleep in their beds, and the hooting of an owl hunting nearby. Mostly she could hear the resident vermin. There seemed to be a whole legion of them, going about their unending quest for food. It was a wonder she’d never noticed all that rustling and scraping before.

  How long she had lain there, Lady Sarah could not say. The last thing she remembered was the intruder who’d crept up behind her. There’d been something strange about him as well, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what just then. Another knock on the door had sent him fleeing and she’d fainted moments later, of that she was sure.

  She looked away from the walls to the fireplace. A stab of anger went through her at the sight of the dying embers still in need of stoking. Perhaps she had not been out for th
at long and her family had already returned to the festivities in the great hall. She still appeared to be fully dressed and she could only assume she’d been found lying on the floor and lifted up onto the bed, where they’d sought to make her as comfortable as possible before leaving her to rest. But she was not comfortable. Since Constance had neglected to tend to the fire, the chamber was unbearably cold. Not even the blankets piled on top of her could ward it off, and she hugged herself in a vain attempt to warm up.

  The door creaked open, revealing the very same serving girl who had failed her so completely that night. Lady Sarah was sure more anger must have flashed through her eyes as they settled on Constance’s skinny frame standing there in the doorway.

  “Lady!” Constance cried, a shocked look on her face as she hastened to bob down into another awkward curtsy. “I will bring your parents at once; they will be gladdened to hear you have awoken.”

  “Cold,” Lady Sarah moaned, her voice cracking as if it had not been used in some time. “So cold.”

  Constance’s eyes darted to the fire she’d allowed to go out and her surprise turned to panic. “And more wood for the fire, of course!”

  Had the girl not entered when she did, Lady Sarah might have stayed beneath the blankets for the rest of the night. She couldn’t remember ever being this cold in her entire life. Wrapping her arms around herself did not appear to be making any difference, yet she continued to hug herself anyway. There was no warmth in her limbs, no sensation of her body’s natural heat spreading through her clothes where each arm folded over her torso. Venturing out of bed was sure to be even worse. But something else in her had begun to stir, something far more powerful than the desire to remain curled up in the blankets.