Lena Crawford Tales Book 2 "Howling" excerpt

John Kelly was tall, dark, and exotically handsome. He had ice blue eyes that glistened in the late afternoon sunlight. His broad shoulders suggested years of hard labor but his hands were free of the rough calloused surface associated with the required work.

Indeed, John was rich, well maintained, and appreciated in the community. The real estate business was kind to him. On the west coast, he was the highest paid for his waterfront developments. His eccentric collection of antiquities filled his early retirement years and granted him millionaire status. He was welcome in every restaurant, idolized at every fund raiser, and popular with every well known politician in the state of California. But, he was no Jack Wellington…

The curser stared defiantly at Lena Crawford. The glaring blank screen a desolate reminder of just how difficult an author’s job really was. Her last novel, about the vampire god, had brought her more money and more desire by the literary community for another best seller. But, not only had it left her creative mind empty yet again, but it left her soul torn with uncertainty.

With all the money Lena had made, there was no further necessity to remain in Los Angelis. The town was dry on ideas anyhow. She had packed up not long after the failed relationship with John and relocated to the tiny beach town of North Beach, Maryland.

How Lena had chosen the particular place was a conundrum within itself. She had been sitting in the waiting room at her editor’s office. Kyle was running late with another meeting. The travel book sat perched on the coffee table. She flipped through the pages out of boredom. When she came across the article about the east coast fishing community, she found herself enchanted by the simplicity. By the time Kyle had gotten to her, she had made up her mind.

“I’m moving to the east coast, Kyle.”

“You can’t be serious Lena. Everyone loves you here.”

“Everyone can kiss my ass. If you want another best seller by Christmas, I need to make a change.”

It was June now. Still, Lena had yet to type one word of her promised novel. She sighed and began typing.

It was a dark afternoon…

That was no good, she hit the backspace key.

He came to her out of the fog… more back spacing, returning to an empty screen and that evil blinking curser.

It was suppose to be a fantastic vacation from her normal life. But now she wondered, was it going to rain all the time? Lena sighed, put her feelings aside with a quick delete, and sat back defeated. Before the screen could laugh at her further, she slammed it shut in frustration.

Lena decided that before she gave into the urge to throw the laptop off the porch, she should take a stroll along the beach to calm her nerves. She left the computer on the coffee table and made her way down the hall. Her room, to the right of the hallway, was dimly lit by the Tiffany style lamp on the nightstand. She pulled a sweater out of the closet and slipped into her tennis shoes.

The office door at the end of the hall, used to be a bedroom. Without company, or family, Lena used it to house her collection of manuscripts and ideas. Across the hall from the bedroom was the bathroom, with lilac colored wallpaper, where she stopped briefly to tie her hair back with a rubber band. Back down the hall to the stairwell, straight down to the front door and off to the left was another door way that led to the finished basement. The previous owner had built a game room out of it. Now, it stood collecting dust since she had no desire to use it.

Down the sidewalk and across the street stood the beginning of the three mile long boardwalk that stretched the length of the beach. Near the end she would find the fisherman’s wharf, and what few shops that the locals called town.  A fire department, bar, and restaurant; small police station and bait shop.

At her end of the boardwalk, several docks stretched out into the bay to form the marina. Lena watched the boats rocking gently in the light breeze as she passed them by. In a few more nights the moon would be full. The bright light shimmered across the black mass of salt water casting an eerie glow across the landscape as she ended her walk by the wharf.

The salty sea air blew in on the gentle breeze and for a moment Lena just breathed it in. She could forget about all the stress, and the let downs, and the idea that she was alone out here on the coast. As she relaxed, her mind wandered.

Before Lena could gather the wandering thoughts, a bright light cut through the darkness. The sound of tires slowly chewing up the pavement disturbed the peace as it stopped behind her and caused her to turn around slowly. The lights on the car were bright, but as her eyes adjusted she could see the white letters and lights that identified the police chief’s cruiser.

The thin black man dressed all in police issue black with shiny metallic buttons, stepped from the car. As he did so, the flashlight flicked on. Lena shielded her eyes for a moment as he focused on her face. He walked around the car lowering his flashlight as he went, and made his way across the lot to where she stood with her back to the open water.

“You shouldn’t be out this late Ms. Crawford.” The man smiled as he lowered the light.

“I couldn’t clear my mind at home Paul, you know how I get.” She chuckled.

“The beach is dangerous this time of the month.”

“You’ve been telling me this same story about the North Beach wolf since I moved in Paul. I suppose next, mermaids will come spiraling up out of the water to drown me beneath the wharf.” She jested.

“That’s some imagination you got there.” He smiled in the dim light.

“It pays the bills.” Lena laughed.

“Come on, I’ll give you a lift home.”

Paul held the passenger door open. With a defeated sigh, Lena climbed inside and allowed him to escort her home. Once there she unlocked the door, walked inside, and gave her computer a dirty look. She fixed a sandwich then went to bed far more exhausted than she anticipated.

In the morning Lena showered, dressed, and put on a pot of coffee. It was already seventy degrees by ten am so she took her coffee and laptop out on the porch. It booted right up and auto logged her onto the messenger service. Kyle popped right up with a cheesy smiley face icon.

“How’s my favorite author?” She read.

Lena typed back, “Tired, lazy, and bored. When am I going to get a break from you?”

“When you move to Italy and start writing long hand again.” He replied then added, “How’s the new book?”

“It refuses to exist,” She replied. “Worried?”

“Nah, you came through last time. Keep me posted.”

“Will do.”

Kyle logged off leaving Lena to enjoy the view with her coffee in silence. The blue green water sparkled with the yellow tint from the morning sun. Joggers came and went on the boardwalk. Dog walkers, mothers with strollers, lovers holding hands; disgusted and defeated, she went back inside.

The old Monte Carlo fired right up. Lena drove into town. The grocery store was packed full of people shopping for what appeared to be nothing in particular. In a town that small, it was pretty much the most exciting thing any of them could do for entertainment on a nice day. She stocked up her cart, and forty five minutes later, she was back at home.

Meat in serving size containers went into the freezer, veggies into the fridge, and pasta into the cupboard; everything in its place. Lena returned to the porch with a feeling of accomplishment. It was only late afternoon and she had done everything possible to avoid working on the new book. Well, almost everything, she smirked.

Lena put on her bathing suit and drove two miles to the public beach access. It wasn’t at all like the long sandy beaches of Florida or California. It was more of a man made patch of sand in-between the boardwalk and the rock barrier wall that protected the boardwalk from the high surf.

Lena passed through the gate, laid her beach towel down on the sand, and sat peacefully watching the tide flow in. It could have been far busier on the shoreline, for as nice as the day had turned out to be. All that she could see were a few toddlers with their respected parents wading through the surf. She lay down, closed her eyes, and enjoyed the feel of the sun on her skin. While she rested, she listened to the waves as they broke on the shore, another sound soon broke the tranquility.

“Look out!” The man shouted.

The Frisbee whizzed over Lena’s head. Sand went flying as the man to whom the Frisbee was intended for, came sailing down off the rocks with a string of curses and flailing limbs. He landed in her stunned lap, both unable to move out of shock.

His eyes were green, and his hair was short, wavy, and chestnut brown. Lena could feel the softness of his skin, taught over his muscular chest, as she gave him a violent shove. He left her lap and hit the sand beside her. The initial shock had passed. He smiled and blushed in embarrassment.

“I am so sorry miss.” He stood and began to dust himself off.

“You should be.” She snapped.

He appeared genuinely wounded.

“Dude, that was classic!” Another man laughed from out of her line of sight.

“Shut up Keith!” He barked.

When the man turned back, he found that the unnamed woman had already gathered her things and had a head start to her parked car.

He chased after her calling out, “Hey, wait, please?”

The pavement burned his bare feet. He hopped around trying to keep the heat off the sensitive parts of his feet as he finally chased her down.

“Look, the guys are just jerks. They didn’t mean any harm by it. Let me make it up to you.” He said.

She spun around, “I’m not interested.”

“Fine,” He gave up and walked away muttering, “Bitter crone.”

Lena was shocked. Had she become that withdrawn? In California, attention was required due to her status in the community. It finally registered to her mind. This isn’t California. It’s a small town, with normal people, most of which wouldn’t recognize her even if they held her autobiography in their hands while they stared. Fame had indeed made her bitter and blind.

The man was too far away for her to apologize. So she just got in her car and went home, alone, yet again.

“You wanted seclusion Lena.” Kyle scolded.

“Yeah, I know.” She grumbled.

“You wanted to be anonymous.” He prodded.

“You’re not helping, jerk.” She muttered.

“Come home Lena. You’ve proven nothing other than how to shelter yourself from the world that loves you.” He stated.

“I’ve got work to do Kyle. I’ll call you later.”

It was a lie but Lena was just done talking about it. It was getting late, and she really didn’t feel like working anymore than she felt like talking. So, rather than pacing the floor in discontent, she locked up the house and took off at a slow walk to the restaurant for dinner.

The night was warm and the nearly full moon broke through the shading clouds to cast brilliant light upon the darkened shoreline. If one wasn’t careful they could get lost trying to distinguish between stars and ships on the horizon.

Tonight, Lena stepped over the line and careful became a thing of the past. It was hard for her to pull herself away from the bobbing lights that danced across the water of the bay. She watched as each sparkled, danced, and disappeared behind the waves.

A dog barked somewhere off in the distance. The gentle lap, lap, lap of the water became hypnotizing. Lena stood on the shore, leaning heavily on the banister, entranced by the simple serenity. The dog went from barking to yelping, then silence, until the dull growl was just beyond where she stood.

The hair on Lena’s arms stood up, suddenly aware of being in danger. She could see, just inside the shadows, a large dog hunched on the rocks below her. She slowly backed away as the growling grew louder. Arms wrapped around her from behind. She began to scream. The hand cupped over her mouth to silence her as it turned her head.

Lena recognized him as he began to snarl back at the creature. The man from the beach put himself between her and the wild dog, growling just as intensely as the beast, until it gave up and vanished into the fog. She was trembling with uncontrolled motion.

“Tell me that wasn’t the North Beach wolf.”

“So, you do know better than to be out this late at night. I thought after earlier today, you were just that ignorant.”

“I’m sorry about that and thank you for helping me.” She muttered still shivering.

“Come on, I’ll walk you home.” He replied as he put his strong arm around her.

“Sometimes I forget I’m not in the city anymore.” She chattered on as she tried to regain her composure.

“You just go through so much there that everyone has to be out to get you.” She sighed.

“No worries.” He replied.

“It wasn’t fair of me to judge you based on my past. It’s not like you could have known.” She continued.

“Do you ever shut up Lena or do you just like the sound of your own voice?”

“I, uh,” She stammered.

“You’re at a complete lost now huh?” He laughed.

“I’ll let you in on a secret. I’m not from North Beach either. We all have our reasons to hide.”

“So, you know me, and I don’t know you, and the walk ends here.” She pointed up at her house.

“I’m Barry, from San Francisco. I was at the last book signing there. But, I’m sure, with the amount of publicity you have, one geek from the beach is just as good as another.” He chuckled.

“Not always. You should have met John Kelly, all geek none of your audacity.” She smiled.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should.”

“Good night Lena. Please stay indoors after dark, and be safe.”

“Ok,” She whispered.

Barry smiled and disappeared into the night. Lena raced inside, fired up her laptop, and began typing. Her heart poured over the first few pages as she began retelling the tale.

In the darkness it did wait. Slouching, and silently crouched, ready to take the first step at the prey it found. While she stood there looking out across the water it never crossed her mind that she was in danger. But as the silence was broken with the low growl she let out a yelp. Before she could fully utter a scream the beast had her in its grasp…

Morning found Lena asleep on the couch, sun filtering in through the shades. Automatic save kicked on when the battery on the laptop failed. She yawned, plugged it in to charge, and made herself a pot of coffee. As the coffee brewed, she fetched the morning paper off the front steps, and then threw it on the table before grabbing a quick shower.

The hot water felt good as it ran down Lena’s back. She soaped up her hair and scrubbed out the evening sweat. When she reached for the soap she had to juggle it to keep from dropping it. But she managed to hang on long enough to get clean.

Lena had barely turned off the water when she heard the furious pounding on her door. She wrapped up in a towel and dripped all the way to the front door. Barry rushed in as she opened it, and without noticing how she was dressed, began to blurt out half sentences until she silenced him.

“Coffee is in the kitchen, cups are above the sink. I take mine black thank you. I’m going to get dressed now. You catch your breath.” She spun on her heels and stormed off.

Barry realized just then what he had interrupted. He blushed, smacked his own head for the stupidity of it all, and went to make the coffee as Lena had instructed. She returned from her room wearing a simple teal colored sundress, her bronzed red hair still dripping wet down her back.

“I suppose you have good reason to be stammering away at me this early in the morning.” She said as she took her coffee and sat down on the couch.

“It’s all over the TV and newspaper. Something broke into several houses on this side of the beach. One person is still missing.” He handed her the paper.

Sure enough, the story was on the front page. Lena skimmed through it. There were five houses in total that had damage from breaking and entering. Nothing was missing other than the woman in the first house located a few blocks away from her house. She sighed and then lay the paper down.

“You were worried about me?” She asked.

“Yes,” He blushed again, this time where she could see it.

“That’s sweet. You know, you said something that surprised me. People really get into this North Beach wolf phobia don’t they?” She chuckled.

“It’s not just a phobia, it’s true you know. They found hair from some beast at the first house where the lady is still missing from. They said it looked as if she fought back.”

“How do you know all this?” She asked curiously.

“In this town, Paul is head gossip. Isn’t much that goes on that isn’t well known by supper time.” He grinned.

“Welcome to small town USA.” She rolled her eyes.

“Hope I didn’t interrupt your morning rituals too much.” He sighed as he put the coffee cup down.

“It wasn’t a bad change.” She smiled.

“There’s more coffee left.” She pointed out.

“I’ll get us a refill then.” He grabbed the cups and drifted into the kitchen.

“So, what do you do when you’re not busy saving my life?” She asked loud enough for him to hear.

“I’m a trust fund kid. So, that leaves my schedule open to save the occasional damsel in distress.” He replied as he returned with the coffee.

“You come from money and live like a bum on the beach?” She laughed.

“Well yeah, mostly, why not? Not everyone should have to struggle working their whole life away.” He smiled.

“It sounds way too easy.”

“It’s worth getting lost in.” He grinned.

“How about we splurge a little and I take you out for a nice breakfast?”

“I’d like that.” She replied. “Let me grab a few things and we’ll head right out.”

“Ok.”

“Where would you like to go?” She shouted from down the hall.

“Oh Paris, China, Rome, or maybe just up the street; who cares really as long as it’s with you.” He replied.

She laughed, “There is no way you’re getting me on a flight to Paris.”

“Why not?” He replied as she returned to the living room.

“I don’t have a passport.” She laughed.

“That’s odd, how could someone like you not have a passport?” He chuckled. “But, alright, local it is.” He gave her his most charming smile.

By local, Barry insisted they drive up to the mall. It took nearly forty minutes in the rush hour traffic. Lena breathed a sigh of relief when they pulled into the parking lot. What started out as a breakfast mission, ended up being a late lunch. They sat down in the booth, ordered their meal and chatted casually together.

“What brought you to our town from the city?” Barry asked politely.

“I was in desperate need of a change. It seemed like everything I touched there turned to shit and I couldn’t concentrate anymore.” She smiled.

“I can understand that. Before I figured out that I wanted to settle down somewhere I was all over the place. Cities, towns, countries, I burnt up half of my trust fund finding this place.” He chuckled.

“Of course, my editor was pissed. He’s genuinely a good guy and has faith in my ability to pull a rabbit out of my ass when it comes to writing. But in the long run, if he isn’t showing me off to investors he thinks I’m cheating him.” She added with a slight smirk.

“Ah, sounds like an interesting guy.” He smiled in return.

“That’s the glitter and gold of a life of fame and fortune.” She laughed as they finished their meal.

 After the meal they took the time to catch an afternoon movie before heading back to the quiet beach town. Barry kissed Lena on the cheek and bid her good night just before sunset. She danced happily back into her home and settled into do some writing. The day out with him was just what she needed to stir up the monotony in her life that had caused her writers block. With a smile she typed away contently.

Lena Crawford Tales Book 1 "Immortal" excerpt

Part 1: The Darkness Calls…

Chapter 1:

I stood alone in the dimly lit corridor. Before me loomed the damp stone walls of the catacombs, behind me, a large wooden door.

What lay behind this door was the God’s best kept secret. I did not know the truth of the secret. It was my job to guard it unconditionally. It remained unlocked, and out of trust by the Gods, I continued to guard it without question.

All I did was guard this door. I knew not of the God’s place beyond the corridor or of the place behind the door. This was my place, in front of the door at the end of a long passageway, and for a time, I was content.

Time does not pass for me as one would expect. It could have been moments or it could have been generations that passed as I stood my silent watch. In the place where creation began the sense of time as humans know it did not exist. No one came or went from the room that I endlessly guarded. I began to wonder what sort of secret was held so sacred that not even the Gods visited it.

My answer came to me, subtly at first. He approached slyly, slinking through the shadows. As he neared I knew him to be a God. In my ignorance I could not see his intent as impure, for how could a God be anything but pure? He beckoned to me.

“Keeper of the secret,” He spoke so softly.

“I am.” I replied.

“What secret is this that is so well kept beyond an unlocked door?” He smiled.

“Are you not a God? Should you not know more than I as its keeper?” I replied, confused.

“Would you not desire to see it with me?” He grinned.

“It is not my place to want such things. It is my place to stand guard.” I answered.

I thought perhaps I was being tested, although, I did not understand why. This was my place and they had never had a reason to disturb me in it before. The God pressed on as he came closer to me.

“Aren’t you the least bit curious? Will you not open the door and let us see the truth for ourselves?” He asked.

I pondered it for a time with the God standing beside me. If the God wanted to see it, what harm could come from knowing? I looked at the door as my curiosity grew. I reached out and placed my hand on the door. It was so cold.

I pushed ever so lightly on the door. It shouldn’t have moved at all. However, it flung open violently. I and the God beside me were stricken by the truth of death.

I was overwhelmed by the feeling. I did not want to die! It was foul and grotesque knowing the nothingness it would end as. I fell to my knees and wept. What have I done?

Still on my knees, I looked up, tears in my eyes, as I faced the council of Gods. I realized then how I detested them for creating something so wretched. Not a word was spoken aloud but I could feel the intent grow into violence.

In their anger of my betrayal they lashed out. I was wounded, leaving a void that would not heal. I knew then that I would die. I could not accept this as the end. I demanded life!

Cast from the heavens I was, thrown away to die on the playground the Gods called Earth. I stumbled and cursed the Gods. How dare they throw me away! Vengeance must be mine!

I was answered by the only other to be cast away by the Gods. The dark father appeared before me with an offer. If I would embrace chaos and darkness I could live out my hollow immortality feeding from the life of the mortals the Gods favored. How could I refuse? So is how I became Tris Morte, God of the living dead.

Chapter 2:

Luna Cacciatore stared at her blank computer screen. She typed a few words and stared again, still drawing a blank. Everything she attempted to write at this point just looked like pure crap to her. Frustrated, she hit the back space repeatedly as the thought crossed her mind to throw the whole damn lap top out the window.

The phone rang, startling Luna from her agitated contemplation. She reached for the phone and muttered curses at the caller id. It was her editor again, pest that he was, lucky he did such a good marketing job of her novels or she’d have fired him already.

“Luna darling! How are you? How’s the new book coming along? Only six months to go.”

“Fantastic, Kyle, you know I haven’t written a god damn thing! Don’t you have another author to harass?” Luna cursed.

“But you are my favorite author. That four part series you did was just brilliant. Still on top of the best sellers list! How about we do dinner?” He continued to chirp.

“Not tonight Kyle.” She replied sounding more agitated than she intended to.

“You’re not going to be able to come up with anything if you keep yourself locked up in that stuffy house. Now I’ll pick you up at seven sharp!”

Luna heard the phone click and was met with the call ended message so she closed the phone in disgust. She wondered why she had relocated so close to the annoying jerk, knowing he never gave her a moment’s peace. She was really starting to hate living so close to Los Angelis.

Promptly at seven, the door bell rang. Luna answered it with her most charming smile and beckoned Kyle inside. She motioned for him to take a seat as she turned back to the mirror and attempted for the third time to re-pierce her stubborn ear with the earring.

A slender black dress caressed Luna’s thighs as it rested just above her knees. Simple open-toed heels sat next to the door for her to squeeze into before they exited. At last, the earring went in. She snagged her shawl, slipped into her heels, and turned to Kyle with a grin.

“Shall we?” She chirped.

“You are radiant, as always! Let’s enchant the masses shall we?” He grinned as he held open the door.

Kyle held open the door of the black BMW for Luna and then climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the key in the ignition. He pulled the car out of her drive way and headed toward the expressway that led into town. Traffic passed them by as he puttered merrily down the road in the slow lane. A few exits had passed before he took the turn into downtown and hit the main street light just as it turned red.

Lena did her best to struggle through the long ride with as much patience as she could muster up. At last Kyle pulled up to the valet parking sign where he handed over the keys and led her through the door. The restaurant was packed. Wall to wall people pressed in waiting for a table to open. Luna looked at Kyle with worried disapproval. She ran her fingers through her dark red hair and sighed.

“You worry too much darling. I made us the reservation a week ago.” He chuckled.

“Why do you do this to me?” She asked as the hostess escorted them to their table.

“If I gave you warning you’d have all that time to find a way out of it.” He grinned.

“Johnny Walker, red label please, on second thought better make it a double.” Luna told the waiter as he brought the menu.

“You know that shit will kill you. Same for me thanks.” Kyle replied as he sent the waiter away.

“Hypocrite,” She mumbled.

“The world won’t miss me as much as it would you.” He replied with a grin.

“Ironically, I’d make you more money if I was dead.” She replied wickedly.

“That’s artists not authors dear.” He chuckled.

“Kyle Dagwood, you bottom feeder.” A deep voice called out from behind Luna.

“Jack Wellington!” Kyle exclaimed as he stood and shook the man’s hand.

Luna turned slightly and looked over her shoulder at the man. He was huge, twice as wide as Kyle in the shoulders. He was bald, by choice, she noted by the stubble lines on top of his head, and his eyes were so blue they looked silver. He wore an expensive suit with a blood red tie tucked in under the silk lined jacket.

When Jack smiled it was a wide grin. To Luna, it appeared almost feral in nature. She shivered as his deep voice turned into velvet words.

“Tell me who this intensely ravishing woman is with you.” Jack seemed to grin wider as he looked her over.

“Jack, this is Luna, my company’s finest author. Her series is at the top of the best sellers list.”

“Charmed, I assure you.” Jack said as he bowed and kissed her hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jack.” Luna replied, slightly repulsed.

“Jack is one of Los Angelis’ richest men. He likes to spend his time paling around with the best.” Kyle chuckled.

“You give me far too much credit.” Jack laughed. “Do see that copies of her novels make it into my hands. If she is as fantastic as you claim, I may have a project for her.”

“Of course Jack. You’ll have them first thing tomorrow.” Kyle smiled.

“Enjoy your meal Miss Cacciatore. Perhaps we’ll meet again soon.” He said as he bowed to her again.

Luna watched Jack disappear into the crowd. She polished off her drink and slammed the empty glass down on the table. She looked at Kyle completely disgusted.

“A bit of an arrogant bastard don’t you think?” She scoffed.

“Oh, he’s harmless once you get past the rough exterior.”

“Yeah, right, sorry Kyle, but I think I lost my appetite.” She stood and pushed the chair back.

“Don’t get up. I’ll take a cab home.” She walked away leaving Kyle to stare blankly at the table.

Luna stepped outside of the restaurant and made her way over to the curb. As usual, with her luck, there wasn’t a cab in sight. To make it that much worse, the sky rumbled and let loose with torrential showers. Even holding her purse over her head wouldn’t save her as her make-up ran and her hair clung to her shoulders.

Luna cursed a long string of curses out of her misery. She should have just stayed home. An umbrella opened over her, pushing back the rain from her face. She turned to see Jack smiling weakly behind her.

“I pray I didn’t upset you dear one.” He said softly.

“Not at all,” She mumbled straining to see a cab.

“Can I offer you a ride my lady?”

“No thank you sir,” She replied as she stepped out from under the umbrella and hailed the oncoming cab.

“Wait, Luna, please?” He almost begged as she opened the cab door.

“Look, Jack, your false charm might work on lesser women. I however see you as arrogant and pompous at best, so shall we dispense with the idle bullshit? I have better things to do.”

Luna slammed the cab door with herself safely inside. Jack watched her drive away with morbid curiosity at her bold nature. The man’s entire presence had frayed her every nerve. She was absolutely clear about not being interested in seeing him again.

Born to Reign excerpt

CHAPTER 1

It was the year 2056, nearly twenty eight years to the day since the Great War had raged through the land. A once divided nation rallied together under the banner of the human King Ellyll rising up to victory. The young man, barely old enough to be called a man, had made a foolish decision according to all who once stood beside him. He was the first of his people to take a daemon as his bride. When he did so the human people turned against him, demanding that the daemons remain in their place, as slaves, beneath the humans.

When the war ended and the daemon people stood with the humans as equals, the king felt that together they had won a great victory. But it was not without severe costs. Although wounds healed into scars, and the land grew into wealth and beauty, it was not without much tragedy and loss. Countless lives were sacrificed on both sides, including those belonging to the Lucifary household of daemons. The king’s wife also died suddenly while giving him his only child, Calypso. To help raise her, he found a woman amongst his own people, choosing a wife that he thought would be kind, and trusting, that would help raise his daughter up properly.

The once strong king died quite suddenly leaving behind his only daughter, Calypso Ellyll, and her step mother Ashie. The love that had once brought the people together soon faded away revealing the truth. The king that loved the daemon people as if they were of the same breed did not marry a woman that shared his vision. She was of pure human descent and full of the ancient hatred of the winged ones.

Ashie’s lust for power and control washed over the land returning it to darkness once more. Only seventeen, Calypso was powerless against the changes. In daemon tradition, she was not yet a woman until she underwent the ceremony marking her eighteenth year. Her access to the ancestral powers was limited until then and her step mother intended to keep it that way.

In the first few months after the death of the king, Ashie became the regent ruler of the land. Laws were changed and new ones were written, quickly turning the proud and free daemon people back into slaves. Those that did not run were captured and shackled. Their wings were clipped and the stubs burned to keep them from growing back. If they refused to obey the laws they were tortured and branded with a device that caused great pain.

It soon began being called the ring of servitude by those unfortunate enough to be marked by it. To Ashie this was her greatest accomplishment and she wielded it without mercy.

Calypso was the first and an example to the entire nation. She remembered that night as if it were only moments ago. Two men burst into her room dragging her out of her bed as she slept. She cried out in fear and surprise as they carried her down the hall and into the throne room. Her bright silver hair fell in a tangled mess as the men pressed her face first into the table at the center of the room.

Calypso clawed at the men trying to break free as another figure came into view. The only light in the room was the fire place, blazing with hot embers that sparked as flames danced over them, died out, and sprang back to life. She could hardly believe her eyes as they focused on her step mother.

“Not one will be spared,” Ashie spoke in a haunting tone as she picked up the blade.

The silver reflected the light as Ashie turned it over in her hands examining it closely. A hand pressed firmly into Calypsos spine between her wings as another pulled her right wing tightly away from her body. The blade came sweeping down. It was followed instantaneously by pain as she watched her wing fall to the floor.

Calypso wept. Ashie took the blade sliced through her left wing and smiled as it fell away. The man that held her wings as they were cut away returned with a blazing hot iron. As he handed it to her step mother the woman paused slightly and chuckled.

“Your father might have had a soft spot for your kind. But his time is over.” She said with a smirk.

The hot iron pressed against the bleeding stubs on Calypsos back. She wanted to vomit as the searing pain swept through what was left of her wings. As if losing them wasn’t painfully humiliating enough, Ashie wasn’t finished. The men turned her over and tore her nightgown away.

As the hand closed down over Calypsos throat, Ashie reached for her stomach. In a single swift moment her naval was pierced with the ring. When the men released her she fell to the floor.

“You serve me now child. Do not disobey me.” Ashie said as she reached out with her hand.

Ashie pressed the button located on her ring. Calypso’s eyes went wide as electricity shot through her abdomen. When she was finally able to breathe again she pushed herself up onto her knees and bowed amidst the pain.

“I will not disappoint.” She replied through the tears.

Calypso cried for days. She thought for certain that her wings were gone forever. She treated her wounds with a paste she created out of herbs grown in the garden. It took nearly a week before she realized that her wings had begun to grow back. She continued to treat the wounds with the salve until the growth became visible to more than just her.

Again, Ashie clipped and burned them before shocking her into submission. Although she wouldn’t admit it Ashie found herself in awe of Calypso’s raw talent for healing. When she gave up using it though, Ashie knew she had won. So she moved on certain the daemonic people were going to make perfect slaves.

As the laws became a matter of public record, the great migration began. Guards were sent to every home in the city of Ellyllfa known to contain a daemon family. Their orders were to bring them in for enslavement. But word had spread quickly that the princess was the first to endure the torture of enslavement causing uproar amongst the people. The riot within the daemonic people too quickly turned into a revolt against the new government under Ashie’s rule.

Aryian Lucifary, the last remaining Lucifary, took it upon himself to put a stop to the revolt. As the princess endured at the castle, he took several of his closest friends and began going home to home trying to reach his people before the guards did. Each home that was still occupied he ordered to be abandoned, demanding they take nothing with them that they couldn’t carry.

For months this went on, under the very noses of the guards until the last night when everyone else had gone but Aryian. He stayed behind, ensuring that he could not reach those that had already been captured, and having his own plans in mind. As he watched the last of his people fly away toward the mountain ranges that were once the home of his family, he sat himself down to wait.

It wasn’t a long wait before the guards found Aryian lounging back in the market square. He snickered at them proudly, held out his hands, and stood up tall spreading out his grand white wings.

“Take me to your leader,” He laughed defiantly.

The guard, not sure how to respond, stood there silently for a moment. This was the first daemon that didn’t argue or fight back. They stood there looking at each other for what seemed like an eternity before Aryian spoke again.

“Are you just going to stare at me all night or are you going to do your job, coward.” He prodded.

Angered, the guard lashed out breaking Aryian’s nose in a single blow. Aryian did not flinch as he swung his wings back quickly, using the force of the wind behind them to knock the guard to the ground. That was more than enough to get the man’s attention as he pushed himself up from the earth. He shouted louder, bringing more guards to join him in the square.

Aryian was chained at the wrists without any further struggle. He let the guards lead him straight to where he intended to go, right into the heart of the royal families keep.

As the daemons retreated back to the cities of their ancestors the humans pursued them relentlessly. Soon the human cities filled up with those that were enslaved. Ashie and the other lords and ladies of Ellyllfa sent out search parties daily until all were driven from their borders or enslaved within them.

CHAPTER 2

And so it continued on spiraling into darkness. Ashie dedicated a whole building just outside of the market square to study the magic of the daemon people. If they were going to have a fighting chance against the monsters, she wanted to know everything about their ways.

The daemon homes were raided, their personal items taken away by the wagonload for this purpose. The soldiers in charge of the raids gathered everything they could find. There were books, charms, crystals and statues in tribute of the history.

The men in charge of the study couldn’t make sense of the rules or rituals written in the language of the beasts. They poured over the books and trinkets for weeks with no results. In frustration, Ashie turned on the daemon slaves for answers.

Bree had worked in the Ellyll family keep’s kitchen nearly half of her life. Her father, grandfather, and grandmother resided in a home not far from the keep until the culling where they were sold off to work in the homes of other lords. Bree remained on as head cook and without resentment or resistance toward the change in laws. She had managed to keep her wings and avoid the ring of servitude for her compliance.

Bree’s family was amongst the first to take up residence in the city. Being members of the council of elders, Ashie figured that if the information could be gathered from anywhere, they would be a good place to start. So she ordered the return of the grandparents and father to the keep.

The basement was converted from a wine cellar to a dungeon in the matter of a few hours. Cages lined the far wall and in the center of the room, chains hung from the ceiling and attached to large hinged clasps on the floor. Seyah, the grandmother, Osef, the grandfather, and Fahre, Bree’s father, were all brought into the basement and locked into separate cages. Completely unaware, Bree continued her duties upstairs without interruption.

Seyah, Osef, and Fahre were left in their cages for two nights and a day. They were offered no food, no water, and no explanations. On the second day, two men came into the room. The darkness was suddenly interrupted by a bright light as the torches were lit across the vast room. It was the first time the three of them could see their surroundings. As their eyes adjusted to the change in light they focused on the men before them.

It was apparently obvious why the first of the men was there. He was dressed all in black, blending in with the shadows as he arranged several tools on the table he set up beside the chains. He tied his hair tightly back behind his head and put on a white apron that was stained a red-orange shade in several places. He was the torturer, they decided to themselves, and silently prepared mentally for what was to come.

 The other man was obviously an intellectual. He was so strangely out of place in the surroundings. They found his presence odd and confusing as they watched him take a seat at the edge of the room and pull out a notebook, ready to take notes on the events. They weren’t given much longer to ponder the immediate future. 

Seyah was wretched free from her cell and dragged to the center of the room. She did not protest as she was attached to the chains by her wrists and ankles. The man pulled the chains tight and let her hang there for a moment as he looked over the items on the table snickering.

“Where shall we begin?” The man asked her as he picked up a small blade and turned it over in his hands.

Seyah did not reply. The man put the blade down and picked up a larger one with a curved blade.  He walked around her silently and let the blade graze against her clothing. The sharp blade tore through her shirt without touching her flesh. It began to fall away from her, revealing her intact wings. She closed her eyes and sighed deeply, praying silently.

“There is no need for anyone to get hurt here.” The intellectual man said from his position at the side of the room.

“Although this man before you excels at this, I am more interested in words above bloodshed.” The man continued.

“I just have some questions that need answering. If you would do that for me, we can all go back to what we were doing and this nightmare can end.” The man stated as he placed his pen to the paper.

“I have nothing to say to you humans, so do as you will. I will speak no more.” Seyah replied harshly.

“You haven’t even heard the question yet.” The intellectual man laughed.

Seyah’s wing was pulled tightly away from her back by the torturer. She uttered a hiss as the intellectual man posed the first question.

“Tell me the secret to unlocking the magic of the daemons.” The man asked.

“Stealing our freedom wasn’t enough for you? Now you want our heritage?” Osef howled from his cage.

“Release my wife, we have nothing of value to tell you.” Osef demanded.

“I doubt that, or you wouldn’t be so quick to backtalk.” The intellectual replied.

“It looks as if it’s my turn.” The torturer grinned. “One way or another you will speak.”

The torturer took his blade swinging it with ease. It sliced through Seyah’s wing bone taking it completely off at the skin. He reached for the second wing, pulled it tight, and cut it free as well. He threw them to the floor at her feet as the blood poured down her back.

“You monster!” Osef howled.

Seyah went limp as the pain sent her into darkness. The loss of blood from her old frail body made her faint almost instantaneously. The torturer sighed, realizing there was no further point in continuing on with her and released the bindings. He threw her into the cell and left her to lay there unconscious in a pool of her own blood.

“The old woman is defiant to a fault. Perhaps, if you want to see her live, you will be more cooperative.” The torturer stated as he pulled Osef from his cell and strung him up.

Osef had already lost his wings in the struggle to take him alive in the first culling. There was nothing left for the torturer to take off but stubs. So the man moved onto a smaller blade and cut away Osef’s shirt letting it fall to the floor.

“What is it we need to know to unlock the secrets of the books we gathered from the homes of the daemons?” The intellectual asked Osef as he hung there.

“There is nothing I can tell you. Our ways are not for humans to know. Learn your own ways and stay out of ours.” Osef replied coldly.

The torturer went straight to work. He slowly carved off one piece of flesh from Osef’s chest before he gave him the opportunity to speak again. When he did not, another piece was peeled away from the muscle beneath it and cast aside. He moved onto Osef’s arms carving away piece by piece, but the man still refused to speak. As his blood flowed away from him, it mixed on the floor with the blood that belonged to his wife. In frustration, the torturer released him and returned him to the cage.

They did not go straight for Fahre as he thought they were going to do. Instead, they extinguished one torch after another until the room was washed in darkness once again. The two men left them there, in the silence and the knowledge that without treatment the wounds would not heal.

“Father, can you reach me?” Fahre asked as he made his way over to his side of the cage.

“I believe so,” Osef replied as he crawled over and took his son by the hand.

Fahre spoke a few words in the darkness. Osef’s pain began to fade away. The blood clotted and sealed the open wounds closed on his arms and chest. When finished, Fahre leaned back in exhaustion. The healing took more energy from him than he had to spare.

“Do you have the strength to pass it on to mother?” Fahre asked worriedly.

“I have enough to stop the bleeding, but I believe her wings are lost forever.” Osef replied sadly as he took his wife’s hand.

Seyah’s bleeding stopped and she awakened briefly enough to squeeze Osef’s hand. The three of them sat there in silence together as another night passed.

In the morning, the torches flared to life bringing light back to the darkness. Fahre remained awake for the entire evening watching over his father and mother as they rested. He looked at the torturer with hate in his eyes as the man approached him.

“It occurred to me late last night that you won’t speak if tortured either.” The torturer said to Fahre.

“Your assumption just might be correct.” Fahre replied as the door creaked open.

The intellectual entered, followed by someone just outside of Fahre’s line of sight. They walked into the room slowly as the one that followed spoke up.

“I’m sorry sir, I don’t see what good I can do down here. The wine cellar hasn’t been used for ages.” Bree questioned as she looked around.

“No,” Fahre hissed. “Bree, run!”

“Father?” She asked confused.

It was too late for Bree to heed Fahre’s warning. The torturer wrapped his hands around her arms and dragged her across the room. She screamed in surprise as the man chained her wrists and ankles. The cages then came into view as the man lit the last torch.

“Father, grandmother, grandfather, what is going on?” She whimpered.

“I will kill you, you son of a bitch.” Fahre screamed as he rattled the bars on his cage in anger.

The commotion woke Seyah and Osef from their slumber. They saw Bree chained up before them and could do nothing but weep. Fahre growled as the torturer grabbed Bree by her wings.

“You will talk now, or I will carve your precious child into pieces.” The torturer stated firmly.

The intellectual picked up his pen ready to take notes as he watched quietly from his place in the corner.

“What do you want?” Bree asked.

“We want to know the secret to unlocking the magic of the daemons.” The intellectual spoke in response.

“But, I was never taught these things. How am I to help?” Bree wept. “I would tell you if I knew!”

“Your family has the answers. If you want to blame anyone, it’s them. They had their chance to speak yesterday. Now you will pay for their silence.” The torturer whispered in her ear.

The man went straight for Bree’s wings. There was no hesitation as the blade sliced through the joints. Her once beautiful lilac colored wings fell to the floor stained red with her blood. The pain was almost too much for her to take. She fell to her knees and hung there weeping as Fahre howled out in protest.

“Enough! I will tell you what you want to hear.” Fahre promised. “Just let me free so I can heal her please and you can have what you want.”

The torturer turned to him and smiled, “Speak the words and I will release you. If it’s not the truth, I will take more than this child’s wings.”

“The power is in the blood and the language. I will teach your people all I know. Now let her go.” Fahre stated.

The torturer moved over to the cage that held Fahre. As he unlocked it, Fahre raced over to his daughter and took her by the hands. He muttered the words under his breath. The intellectual marveled as Bree’s wounds healed over and the blood stopped flowing. As the last of his strength faded away he hit his knees, the darkness ready to take him.

“Father,” Bree wept. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault my daughter. Follow your duties to the queen. I will take no more sorrow from you.” Fahre replied.

“I will father.” She replied, tears streaming down her eyes.

The torturer and the intellectual pulled Fahre up to his feet. As the intellectual led him out the door the torturer returned to the cages for Seyah and Osef.

“You two will be returned to the homes of your master. But your silence will not go unpunished. It will be up to your masters to decide your fate.” The man stated.

The torturer turned back to Bree, leaving her grandparents in their cage. He released her bindings letting her fall to the floor. Her dress became stained by the blood of her fallen wings. She stared at them for a moment, terrified and saddened that they were gone.

“Return to your duties child and no more harm will come to you. Defy your queen, and I will see you again.” The torturer snickered.

“Yes sir,” Bree stammered.

Bree stumbled away up the stairs. She raced to her room where she changed her clothing and dried her eyes. Hope was lost to her that day.

The intellectuals took Fahre back to their building dedicated and determined to learn everything he had to teach them. Once they deciphered the basics the humans began learning. Books were rewritten and passed around and soon magic bred more chaos as those who learned were overwhelmed with the changes.

They now had a way to fight back against the daemons and their magic. Many followers of the old ways came out of hiding to show their appreciation of the laws and the education that restored and breathed new life into their old ways of living.

CHAPTER 3

It had been many months of servitude and silence for Calypso as she watched her mother’s people brought to their knees. Oh how her father would have wept at the state of affairs and how quickly the daemons had fallen under Ashie’s rule.

The large man sat chained to the floor in a room at Ellyll keep. His clothes had been torn away and his wrists bled from trying to pull free of his bindings. He had been left that way for a long time before he was granted an audience with the new queen. She entered, appearing smug as she stared at his naked body. He looked at her with animosity and distaste.

Ashie marveled at the grand white wings folded behind the man that rested on the ground before her. She approached him without caution reaching for the torch that hung on the wall. She struck a match to it and casually walked up behind him.

“You must have been a marvel of a beast amongst your people. Do you have a name?” She asked.

He spit in Ashie’s face. She wiped it away with a smile and placed the torch at the base of his wings. The feathers quickly went up in flames. When nothing was left but smoldering skin and bone a guard threw water on his back and put out the remaining embers.

The man howled and struggled against the chains nearly ripping them free of the binding into the concrete floor. The guard jabbed at him with a spear several times as more guards entered to assist. It took four of them to hold him down as Ashie clipped the ring of servitude around his member. When they released their hold she pressed the button bringing tears to his eyes.

The pain wouldn’t end. Ashie held the cursed button down until a low growl emanated from deep in the man’s chest. He lashed out with what was left of his wings connecting with her face, leaving a deep gash under her eye. She howled out in surprise and anger storming quickly out of the room.

Calypso felt the burn in her mind long before the electricity shot through her abdomen. When the pain subsided, she could feel the call coming from a second floor corridor. When she reached the main hall she could hear the howls of rage and smell the incinerated feathers of yet another enslaved daemon.

Calypso could see at the center of the long hallway Ashie, as she paced back and forth in a furious rage. She called forth her healing ointment and bowl as she timidly walked up to her step mother.

“Beat that beast into submission!” Ashie howled, wiping the blood from her cheek.

“I don’t want it able to move for at least a month!” She continued as the guards closed the doors to the room.

“Calm yourself your majesty. You’ll get wrinkles. Those I can’t heal as effectively.” Calypso said calmly.

“What took you so long wench? Fix this now before it scars!” Ashie demanded.

“Perhaps I could calm this one for you, your highness.” Calypso spoke carefully to her as she placed the ointment on her cheek.

“Yes, that would do. You do seem to have a way with those beasts being a half breed and all.” She hissed as the skin tightened and sealed over.

“Be warned though child. He is a mean one. I can’t afford to lose such a considerate servant as you.” Ashie stated as she turned away.

“Yes, my queen.” Calypso replied.

Ashie spun on her heel and darted down the hall to escape the pounding rage permeating from the room before them. The doors swung freely on the hinges and slammed on the walls behind them. Two guards wrestled with spears stabbing the great man before her.

His wings must have been massive before the burning. The tips of the wingspan fell just below his knees. His chest was bared to its full strength although his broad arms were shackled to the floor. He snarled at the men not at all seeming to admit to the pain that was inflicted upon him for doing so.

The guards stood stunned for a moment as Calypso’s figure appeared standing in the door way. She looked at them with severe distaste as she made her way across the room. Her loathing of the way the man before her was being treated seemed to seep from her very core as she approached.

“Everyone out now!” She boomed.

They raced for the door and closed it behind them. The man watched as the guards disappeared and the woman made her way toward him. He didn’t know what to make of her at first, if she was friend or foe. But her presence had been enough to send the guards racing out into the hallway. That fact alone was enough to peak his curiosity.

Carefully she walked up to his naked form and kneeled in front of him. She examined the skin around where the ring had been placed on his member. It was badly scalded from repeated usage.

He hissed and snapped at her as she went to place the ointment on. She looked at him sternly.

“You want it to rot and fall off?” She snapped back at him.

He quit moving and settled for a low growl as she began her healing.

“What’s your name sir?” She asked casually as she moved around to his wings.

“Aryian Lucifary.” He stated coldly.

She drew in a deep breath and decided to leave that to think on later. He marveled at the craft and skill of her healing casting an eye in her direction.

“Who are you? You’re too good to be a servant.” He asked as their eyes met.

“So are you Master Lucifary.” She set the bowl down and carefully called forth a blade.

 Aryian jumped at the sight of the blade. She rolled her eyes and gently sliced her hand. She went to mixing the blood with the ointment before turning back to him.

“I can bring them back but pray you’re gone before then or she’ll burn them again.” She placed the mix on his wings and turned to go.

As Calypso walked away, Aryian could see the outlined stubs of what was left of her wings through her dress.

“Why don’t you have yours?” He asked.

“For as many times as I have brought them back her highness has taken them away.” She turned back to look into his deep green eyes.

For a moment, Aryian thought he could see a tear forming in the corner of her soft blue-green eyes.

“I can’t bear the agony of losing them again.” With that said, she turned and walked away.

“Wait! You didn’t tell me your name!” He called after her.

“It’s best to do as she asks. You can live to fight later that way.” She closed the doors between them.

Calypso quietly made her way to her room. Her mind wandered off in wonder as she lay down on the straw mat that she called a bed.

Aryian Lucifary was rumored to be the last remaining child of Coribus Lucifary. The war of 2028 was won on the great sacrifice the Lucifary’s made. Although Calypso had yet to be born her father told her the story.

The combined efforts of the first born Lucifary children along with their father Coribus rode out from Ellyllfa to the center of the battle field. In the eastern field they met the humans with their weapons of war. The Lucifary’s gathered forth all their strength and power, drawing from the northern homelands now abandoned, and the mountains that the power dwelled within still. With this they opened a mighty portal destroying everyone and everything in sight.

Aryian must have been but an infant at the time. There wasn’t much recorded about what had happened to him after the war. What she did know was that the Lucifary’s had lost everything after that day. Their home and their legacy, nearly all destroyed but for the one child and the family that raised him.

 Calypso’s father had always spoken highly of Aryian’s family and of the daemon people. The sacrifice they had made had saved more than just the daemons. When he had ridden out with them into the battle field, barely a man himself, he couldn’t have pictured the freedoms they would share in the coming years. Her heart ached thinking of her father now and how outraged he would be at the destruction of those freedoms, and enslavement of the daemon people.

Even now, with his flowing black hair wild, knotted, and full of blood, and the wounds pouring his blood out of his strong muscles, Aryian’s manner screamed defiant pride. If he was indeed the last of the Lucifary family line, he carried the Lucifary blood and name well. What she didn’t understand was how he ended up in the servitude of her stepmother. He should have been free, with the rest of his people planning the revolt that would save all daemon kind.

Calypso sighed, rolled over on the bed and slipped into dream. She stood in front of an endless wall. Two doors stood clearly defined in front of her. She opened one and glanced into the endless darkness.

Calypso could see death and destruction taking that path. Her people, and the humans would go to war once again and the land would be stained with blood. She turned to the other door, closing the one before her.

The second door flooded the room with a brilliant light. So bright, that Calypso had to shield her eyes from being blinded. There was nothing she could make out in the sheer brilliance of it. There was no way for her to tell if it was her own end or a new beginning. So she turned away from it as well.

After closing both doors Calypso turned and walked back the way she had come. The time to make choices would come soon enough without her rushing into things. She let her mind and everything in it go empty and just rested.