Date: Sat, 23 Dec 2006 11:59:40 -0800 (PST)
From: Silvenfox <silvenfox@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Chosen - 8
The following is a complete work of fiction.
Any resemblance between the characters and any real life person is
completely coincidental. Please do not copy or distribute the story
without the author's permission.
Disclaimer:
The following story may contain erotic situations. If it is illegal for
you to read this please leave now. Also expect blood, gore, incredibly
funny scenes and super-powered teenagers with a destiny to save the
world. If you're not a fan of any of these plus strong cursing and
violence than this is not your type of story.
Chapter 8
"Spirit Staff!"
A boulder was sliced cleanly in half as it soared toward our position.
The Executioner's face was set with a frown of determination. Suddenly,
an explosion rocked the ground near us and I flew backward into the air.
I landed hard on my back. My vision blurred as I sat up and I
shook it off clearing my sight.
A hand grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet. I blinked at the
Executioner. He looked like he had taken the brunt of the fallout, but he
was fine and on his feet. He was the stoutest of us all with the skin
that was tougher than a dragon hide.
"Aurek, are you not injured?" I asked, touching a hand to his shoulder.
"That blast was nearest to you."
He rolled his eyes. "Aye, I am well. Are you hurt?"
"No," I replied, shaking my head. I looked across the crater filled land.
Monsters, tall lizard like abominations, spread in a line from our
position.
I clutched a hand to my bruised ribs. "Why have they held their position,
Aurek?"
The Executioner pointed his finger and I saw a flash of light and
the battlefield exploded in flashes of color, as light spread forth, like
a wave encompassing the creatures of dark magic. I smiled, feeling a
pressure ease in my heart. Like an avenging angel, I made out my love
standing at the center of that attack of light dealing back their attack
tenfold.
"Admerion," I whispered, love and relief heavy in my voice.
The Executioner suddenly looked around, head snapping left and right.
"Where is Apollo?"
The breath was sucked right out of me. "Have you not seen him?"
His head shake of negative was all we needed before we took off into the
night looking for our other Chosen comrade. I jumped over dead, mangled
demon corpses and severed limbs without a thought. My boots went squish,
squish as I ran across the blood soaked ground.
"Apollo!" I called out.
He had to be around here somewhere. The explosion couldn't have thrown
him so far. I had to find him. We fought like enemies but no sting was in
our words. We were best friends.
"Apollo!"
I snapped awake the name still on the tip of my tongue. I took a shaky
breath, running my hand across my forehead feeling sweat roll away. I
collapsed and fell back on my pillows. Dream images swirled through my
mind on a loop. Apollo. My best friend. I knew it without a doubt in my
heart that Apollo and I were as close as brothers. I hope he doesn't
regret the normal life he will soon have to leave behind when his destiny
is shown to him. I know I do.
I glanced at my clock and groaned. Jesus in a manger! It wasn't even ten
o'clock and I was already up. I normally liked to sleep in to noon on a
Saturday morning but I didn't see returning to sleep anywhere in my
future.
I slung my feet over the bed. Time to face the day. Joy. I stumbled down
the stairs and made my way to the kitchen. Twenty minutes later, I was on
my third bowl of cereal in the living room watching a rerun of South
Park. Kids, even cartoon wars, who swore, always tickled me senseless.
"NOT GONNA GET YOU A DIAMOND RING.
THAT SORTA GIFT DON'T MEAN ANYTHING."
What the deuce? My head snapped up and I looked around as a singing voice
blurted to life somewhere in the room.
"NOT GONNA GET YOU A FANCY CAR.
GIRL YOU GOTTA KNOW YOU'RE MY SHINING STAR."
What song was this? It couldn't be my phone. I didn't have belting R&B
sounding ballads that left much to be desired lyrics wise. I listened
harder trying to pinpoint the noise.
"NOT GONNA GET YOU A HOUSE ON THE HILLS.
A GIRL LIKE YOU NEEDS SOMETHING REAL."
It was somewhere close by. I sat my cereal bowl on the coffee table and
began to look around the room. If I was a ringing phone where would I be?
Where in the murder mystery was Encyclopedia Brown when you needed
him?
"I WANNA GET YOU SOMETHING SPECIAL FROM THE HEART.
ITS MY DICK IN A BOX!"
What in the hell kind of song was this??
"OoOOHH MY DICK IN A BOX, BABY.
ITS MY DICK IN A BOX!"
I tripped over my foot as the lyrics registered in my mind and I bit my
tongue in a sudden fit of laughter. I hit the ground hard, body shaking
in a laughter seizure. Lying on the ground, my eyes locked on a slim,
silver phone glowing, vibrating, and singing from underneath the couch. I
snatched the phone out and looked at in amazement. The phone wasn't
Morgan's or Mom's. But MINE. What in the nine hells? I looked at the
caller ID and narrowed my eyes. Of course. Now it made sense. I flipped
it open and pressed the answer button.
"Dude, I have a question?" Kevin's voice sounded clearly from the phone's
speaker.
I snorted. "No, I have a question for you. Dick in a box, Kevin? Dick in
a box?"
There was silence. A pause. Then intense laughter.
"I changed your ring tone yesterday morning!" He laughed like it was the
greatest thing in the world. It kind of was, but like the United States,
I will not negotiate with terrorists. "Are you just now noticing? Come
on. You know for Christmas you would really, really love my dick in a
box, Baby. Admit it."
I rolled my eyes, fighting back my smile. "One day I will get you for
this. You won't know when. You won't know where but I'll get you for this
Kevin Montero. I will--"
"Oh will you shut up already," Kevin replied back, still laughing. "What,
are you a cartoon villain now? Stop with the goddam empty threats
already, Doctor Claw."
I chuckled. Damn it. That one was funny. I laughed and he heard me so
there goes my cover of pretend anger. Sigh. I really needed to learn to
reign in the emotions under duress.
"So what can I help you with?" I asked, trying to get us back on topic of
why he called.
Kevin let out a few more chuckles then answered. "I was wondering if
white was a color?"
I blinked. "Come again?"
"Well, white is really the lacking of color, so is white an actual
color?"
I stared at the phone as if it were a foreign object. I opened my mouth
to reply but my tongue got stuck. I actually found myself giving the
question an honest thought before common sense took over. It took three
tries before I could think coherently enough to form an actual
reply.
"Kevin?"
"Yeah?"
"Get off my phone," I said feeling stupefied. "You're eating up all my
anytime minutes."
I ended his call, hanging up on him. Wow. I think I just lost a few brain
cells. I started to think over Kevin's question again, but I shook my
head. Hell no. I was dumb sometimes but not that dumb.
"ITS MY DICK IN A BOX!"
I snapped my phone open and sighed. "Yes, Kevin?"
"You didn't have to hang up on me, bitch." I could hear the faux pout in
his voice over the phone. "It was a serious question!"
"Kevin!" I said laughing. "You are too much sometimes. What do you really
want, bro?"
He snickered. "I just wanted to know if you wanted to hang out sometime
this afternoon?"
I shook my head but realized that he couldn't see it over the phone so I
replied, "Sorry, Kev kev. No can do. It's been two weeks and Killian and
I still haven't started to work on our project. I figured I would go over
there soon and we could finally get started."
"Need I remind you that you will be on his property and any violence had
will look really badly on you if the case gets taken to court," responded
Kevin quickly, serious.
I rolled my eyes. "I'm not going to start any argument." Silence from
Kevin. "I swear I'm not. I just want to get something done so we won't
completely fail this assignment."
"Tomorrow then for sure right?" he asked.
"Definitely tomorrow we'll hang out for sure," I said.
We said goodbye and I hung up the phone. That had been amusing. I debated
on whether to call Killian but I really didn't feel like hearing his
voice. He should know I was coming. He was after all the one that
demanded my presence at his house today so we could get started. I guess
he was getting a little nervous at the lack of progress we had made. I
was too. My GPA was at stake here after all.
I heard feet shuffling down the staircase. I turned around on the couch
and spotted Morgan making her way to the kitchen. She was still dressed
in her sleep clothes like I was. Where as I had just wore a pair of blue
athletic shorts and wife beater, Morgan went to bed in a bright pink
halter top, and a tight pair of gray shorts, that stopped just below her
ass. Emblazed on the back of the shorts in pink letters was the word
"Bootyliscious"... I almost threw up in my mouth a little. I licked my
lips and tasted something sour. Wait. I think I did throw up a little.
I shot up the stairs to the hall bathroom and spat into the toilet. Ga-
ross. I spent the next hour in the bathroom taking a shower and making
myself presentable for the long day ahead. The very long day if Killian
was going to involved. Sigh.
I glanced out of my bedroom window as I slid on a pair of black track
pants. They had white stripes that went down the legs and they were more
comfortable than anything I owned. Mom's car was gone I noticed as I
looked out the window. She must have been called into work. A reporter's
life was never dull. Even on the weekends, there was always news that
needed to be covered. I threw on a white hoodie over my black wife
beater. Over my head went a white visor beanie. I twisted it so the brim
was to the side. Beanies with brims were very in this year. So of course
I owned four.
I looked myself over in the mirror. I looked comfortable but stylish.
Hopefully, Killian would be fooled by the stylish bit. The other motive
was these clothes would make it easy to move in if I were to get in a
fight. I wasn't expecting to get in a fight with Killian, but you just
never knew with us.
My dresser clock read 4:43. I sighed. I guess I had better get a move on.
I grabbed my keys and left the house. It was funny but even though I
hadn't been to Killian's house in years, since we used to be friends, I
still knew where he lived.
Killian lived in the newer, expensive homes built in the exclusive 91101
zip code. It was all lifestyles of the rich and the famous in that neck
of the woods. With his dad being a senior partner at a law firm and his
mom a famous clothing designer, Killian's house reflected their joint
income. I found my neck straining as I looked at all the luxurious homes
in Falcon's Lair Estates. For some reason Centennial City Council liked
to assign all the neighborhoods names. Killian lived in Falcon's Lair
Estates. My home was located in River Crossing. It was kind of cool in a
weird I want to represent my hood, kind of way.
I pulled up to a huge, two-story bricked house with lots of windows. I
couldn't help but gawk like a clown. I had almost forgotten how big the
house was. It may as well be classified a mansion. Except it didn't have
a gate. All mansions had gates or they do on MTV Cribs. It was a gated
community so maybe that counted.
I parked my car next to the curb in front of the house. My blazer looked
all dirty next to the shiny new sports cars and beamers that dotted the
street. Rich bitches. I hurried up the sidewalk to the door. The faster I
left here would be for the better. I was starting to feel like I was in a
episode of Beverly Hills 90210. All I needed now was Shannon Doherty to
come out and bitch slap me.
I rang the doorbell and the door opened promptly. An elderly man dressed
in a black suit and tie answered the door making me take a pause.
"Can I help you?" he asked.
I finally nodded. "Yeah, I was looking for Killian..."
He smiled, a kind, grandfatherly smile that made me smile too. "Yes, the
young sir is here. Please come in while I fetch him."
Ohh swank. He had a weird upper crust accent that I had only heard in
movies. He was quite the stereotypical butler. I assumed he was the
butler. Sure acted like one. He closed the door behind me, leaving me in
the foyer, as he ascended up a staircase in the hall. I wandered to the
wall and looked at the pictures on the walls, paintings and black and
white stills of scenery and unknown people. Someone obviously was an art
fan. The only thing I knew about art was to always color inside the
lines.
"Oh good you're here," said Killian coming down the stairs. "Let's get
started."
He didn't wait for me to follow before he headed up again. He was wearing
some blue jeans and a fitted blue t-shirt that showed off his muscles
nicely. I might not like him but I did notice he had a nice body. I was
still gay.
He led me to his room and I froze as I heard the door click shut. Oh god.
I quickly shuffled away from him putting distance between us. I was
probably being paranoid but dammit after watching four seasons of CSI:
Miami I was wary of people that could be classified as enemies.
I took a moment to look around the room. It was still twice the size of
mine, but posters had been taken down in exchange for a mounted flat
screen. Blocky furniture was gone ushered out by new sleek metallic desks
and drawers. The bed was a king size and the black comforter made it look
bigger than it was. I was growing a bit envious so I stopped my gazing. I
took a seat in a chair next to the desk. Oh... comfortable.
Killian took a seat next to his bed and picked up a silver laptop from
his nightstand. It was just as sleek and shiny as the rest of the things
in this room. I felt like I had stepped into a Modern Look magazine.
While everything in here spoke of money, it lacked a feeling of comfort
and home.
"Let's hurry and get his over with," said Killian, powering up his
laptop.
I sighed. "Yeah, lets. We had Bengal Tigers."
He nodded. "We are supposed to write about what we know about them before
we observe the tigers at the field trip."
I found myself warming up to him. We were being civil and maybe just
maybe this would pass without a fight. I was still on edge but hey Rome
wasn't built in a day.
"So what do you know about them?" asked Killian, green eyes flicking from
the screen to me. "Knowing you, probably not much."
There goes the peace theory.
I gritted my teeth fighting the anger down. "I know they're in the
Kingdom Animalia. Pyhlum: Chordata. Class: Mammalia. I know they're a
tiger sub species."
Killian ran a hand through his strawberry blond hair. It wasn't quite red
or all blond, but a blended color. He smirked at me. "I guess you do know
something after all. Here I was thinking you were just a dumb blond."
I smiled sweetly, a `go to hell' smile, if you will. "Killian shut the
fuck up and let's get to work."
It was silent except for the clicking of keys as Killian typed on his
laptop. He brought up Word and began to setup up a new document for us to
get started on. He added in what I knew and I was surprised that he
memorized everything that I said. Wow. He really did know how to listen.
Surprise, surprise.
"I know that it is the national animal of India," said Killian quietly,
breaking the silence. He didn't look up once from his typing. "And that
they are usually poached for their pelts. Also, they are now heavily
protected since they have few numbers."
I bit my lip watching him closely. When he was like this. Not saying
anything, he was alright to be around. Why couldn't he be like this all
the time? Why was he even such an asshole? A long time ago we used to be
friends. Then our fight back in middle school came to mind. I could
remember Killian madder than I had ever seen, yelling, swearing, his face
twisted in rage. It was stupid, but still to this day I have no idea why
he had gotten so angry. The entire thing could have been prevented if he
had acted rational.
"So why are you such a jerk?"
Oops. Did that just leave my mouth? Dammit. Reminder to self: Check into
a clinic and get test for Tourette syndrome.
He looked at me, his eyes darkening. "That is like the pot calling the
kettle black?"
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What? I'm a jerk?"
Killian sneered at me. "Don't sit there and pretend to be all innocent.
You do that all the time. Like nothing is ever your fault."
I nodded slowly. "I do say it isn't my fault a lot. Because it isn't!"
Killian shook his head, rolling his eyes. "You said the same thing when
we got into that fight. You made fun of my uncle and refused to
apologize—"
"I didn't know it was your uncle!" I snapped back, feeling pissed that he
would blame our entire falling out on me. I pushed back the wave of
resentment so I could think rationally. I could feel my magic react to my
emotionally duress. I put a clamp on my powers, breathing deeply to help
calm myself. "I would have apologized had you not cussed me out like a
fat bridesmaid who took the first piece of the wedding cake!"
He blinked at the comment but let it roll off him. I could tell. People
tended to do that a lot around me. I wonder why?
"You don't understand how much that hurt," explained Killian, heated. "Do
you not have any feelings? That was my uncle! You don't know how much he
means to me."
I paused as his words washed over me. "Why didn't you just say something
then instead of getting all Intense Boy?"
Killian shrugged, taking that emerald eyed stare off me finally. "I don't
know. My natural reaction was just to attack."
I was quiet. I didn't know what to say. I was starting to feel like I was
in another dimension, some parallel reality, where Killian and I actually
got along. Where was Quinn Mallory and his timer when you needed him,
dammit! I sighed, thinking. I didn't know what to do. Should I apologize?
I did rag on his uncle. And I did throw the first punch, messing up his
face, resulting in him losing his modeling gig. I'm sure Tommy Hilfiger
dropping him from their ad campaign ended up costing him a couple of
grand. I would hate me too. What to do? Decisions, decisions. Man, I wish
I had a coin right now. I could pull a Two-Face and flip on it. That
would be a quick answer to a lot of my questions.
"I'm sorry."
Fucking Tourette's, I thought annoyed, I really needed to get a checkup.
Killian looked up surprised at the admission. He paused, debating. I was
doing a mental check of all the exits just in case he flipped out. I
really didn't want to fight him in his own home. He had home turf. It was
bad luck. A neutral place is always the best way to go.
A minute passed.
"...I'm sorry, too."
I gave him a hesitant smile. My survivor instincts were still kicked in
preventing me from being completely at ease with the situation. I took
the small half smile on Killian's face as a signal of honesty.
I opened my mouth and closed it as a loud crash came from the hallway,
followed by the sound of raised voices. Instantly, my head snapped up and
my body tensed, as my magic swirled to the surface ready to be utilized.
I held it back and looked at Killian. He wore an expression that was a
mix of embarrassment, anger, and sorrow. I frowned. He wasn't surprised
by the disturbance. I could tell. How I could read him so well, I had no
clue, but I knew.
"Killian?" I asked, not taking my eyes off him.
He glared at the door as if it were the cause. "It's my..." he stopped
and looked at me. Killian opened his mouth and then closed it. His
shoulders slumped, as he finally relented with whatever mental decision
he was wrestling with. "...It's my parents."
He moved his laptop and stalked out the room without a word. I blinked.
O-kay. That was new. I guess Killian was going to go have a word with
Mommy and Daddy dearest. My eyes strayed to his laptop. It was like mine,
but better.
I picked it up and couldn't resist the drool that slipped from my mouth.
Oooh shiny. I touched the keys and pouted. I wish I had something nice
like this. My drool fell from my chin and splattered onto the keys. I
swore. Booshaka! I hurriedly wiped away the wet spot. I remembered why I
couldn't have anything nice now. I rubbed it away and my fingers pressed
down on a sequence of keys. A minimized window sprung to life. I read the
top line on the screen: THE JOURNAL OF KILLIAN MORRIS. My eyes widened
and my jaw dropped.
"He has a fracking journal?!" I asked the air. "How Doogie Howser-esque."
I knew I should minimize the screen and put the laptop back. But I was
soo curious. Who had a freaking journal these days, well besides twelve
year old girls and emo boys, who just liked to write about feelings. The
cursor was blinking next to the latest entry.
I'm having so many weird feelings. I don't know
what I should do about them. It's becoming too much
sometimes. I don't want to feel like this but I do. I
can accept it, but... I just wish I had somebody I
could talk to about this... my friends... I just wish.
I had another dream last night. It was... It was about
the usual... light.
"What the fuck are you doing!"
I looked up to see a furious Killian standing in the doorway. Uh oh. He
raced forward and snatched the laptop from my hands, slamming it closed,
glaring at me with nothing but fury and contempt. Was that fear too?
"I wasn't looking at anything?" I said quickly, hoping that I could calm
him down first and then maybe tell him I read a bit of his journal.
Eyes closed and face red, Killian looked ready to blow. He clutched the
laptop to his chest as if it were a lifeline. I was getting scared. Not
for me. But for him. It was starting to get real Carrie around him. I was
just waiting for the pig's blood to drop down and the door to
telekinetically lock.
"Get out," he said so quietly I could barely hear him.
I started to speak but he interrupted me. "Get out!"
I swear the windows rattled at the sonic like yell. I didn't need to be
told twice. I tore out of his room like someone shouted clearance sale
outside. I ran down the stairs and didn't stop when the butler tried to
ask me what's wrong, probably rude, but I had definitely over stayed my
welcome.
I jumped into the Blazer and sped the fuck off. I made it home without
getting stopped by any cops, hallelujah. I sighed as I lay on my bed
staring at the white speckled ceiling. I could still feel my heart
beating from the incident. My eyes closed and my body sagged with
exhaustion.
I was pulled into the lands of dreams before I could realize it.
"Apollo!" I yelled, screaming over the explosions Admerion was causing
across the field.
The Executioner jogged to my side, his mouth set in a frown of
determination. "I still have not found him. I am beginning to get
worried, Emrys."
I knew he had to be worried if he addressed me by my mortal name while
in our warrior forms. Our white tunics were covered in black blood and
our chain mail, no longer gleamed silver, but a drab gray and dirty brown
from the detonations that kicked up dirt.
"We shall find him," I assured him, hiding my worry behind a faux
bravery. "We shall."
I turned away and called out, "Apollo!"
We shall.
I snapped awake, jolting up in my bed. "Apollo?" I whispered sadly. "What
happened to you?"
I took a glance at the clock. My God. It was after nine o'clock. I looked
out of the window and sure enough the sun had long ago set and the night
was here. Wow. I had been asleep for hours. It sure didn't feel like it.
Stretching and yawning, I made my way downstairs. Mom was in the living
room asleep on the couch with the TV on. I smiled. She only did this when
she was really tired. I turned the TV off and pulled the blanket off the
couch end and draped it over her sleeping form. Sleep dreams Mom.
Somebody in this house needed them.
I sighed. I knew what I had to do. I was sure sighing a lot today, like
some character in a Lifetime movie of the week. I left the house and
jumped in my Blazer making my way back to Falcon's Lair Estates, and
Killian's house.
I pulled back into the same parking spot from earlier. I walked up the
sidewalk. Coming to the door I stopped. I had to give myself a little
mental pep talk. Come on Summers you can do this. Even if he doesn't
accept it. You still have to apologize. You did snoop through his stuff
like a Hardy Boy. And we do hate those sloppy cunts. I shook off my
hesitation and rang the doorbell. The door was again opened by the
butler.
He smiled that grandfatherly smile but I could see it was tinged with
worry. "I thought that you might be back."
"I was wondering if Killian was home?" I asked, politely. "I really need
to see him."
The butler shook his head. "I'm sorry but the young sir is not home."
"Oh," I said, feeling a surprising thud of disappointment. "Well, uh,
thank you, sir."
I turned around and began to walk down the sidewalk, just as loud a
"Wait!" came from the doorway. "He's at The Door," the butler called out.
"It's a teen club downtown. He likes to go there after a bad day
sometimes."
"Thank you!" I beamed, waving and jogging off to my car.
I had an apology to make.
***
"Tell me why I'm here again?" asked Ryan, from the passenger seat
in my Blazer, looking from the map directions to the Door, to me,
confused.
"You are my co-pilot!" I said, in a duh tone. "I need someone to read the
directions and plus I've never been to a club before, and I'm not going
alone. Annnnnd you have super strength just in case we need to knock some
bitches out."
Ryan cocked his head. "Knock some bitches out?"
I shrugged. "You never know at the clubs downtown... or at least that's
what the news says."
He snorted. "Well the directions say we make a left at this light and
we're there. All we need to do is find a parking spot."
"Oh, there's one!" I yelled, swerving into a parking lot, missing a
couple exiting by a hairs breath, as my tires squealed against pavement.
"We're going to die!!" screamed Ryan, bracing himself, glasses halfway
down his noise and gray eyes wide with fear and panic.
I gave him a look as I sped into a parking space, the car lurching to
sudden halt that had us jerking forward in our seats. I cut the engine
and smirked at him.
"You can stop screaming like the token slut in a bad horror movie?"
Ryan gaped at me as I hopped out of the Blazer. I tuned Ryan out as he
started to lecture me about the merits of good driving and making the
roads safe for everyone. I took Drivers Ed. I watched `Blood on the
Asphalt' in the classroom. I knew friends didn't let friends drive drunk.
Or was that friends didn't let friends drive crunk? I slept for a good
portion of the class.
The Door was easy to find. It was in a building on the corner of the club
strip that people liked to Deep Regent. Regent was the name of the street
and all the clubs ran deep down the street, so Deep Regent. Clever. I
know.
We stepped up to a little window that was beside the closed door. A big,
muscular guy that made the Hulk look like a girl stood next to the
window. He eyed us up and down as if checking us off for height, weight,
eye color, any physical feature that would put us below the age limit.
"ID?" he asked in gruff baritone voice.
We handed them to him and he eyed the cards like a jewelry appraiser eyes
diamonds. He looked at my picture then up at me. Down and then up. Down
then up. I frowned. He gave our licenses back after a brief hesitation.
"Were you really that happy in the picture?" he asked, raising an
eyebrow.
I blushed. On my license picture I'm smiling really huge and looking like
I just won the lottery. Back then I did. I had gained the right to
legally drive. It's the teenage version of the lottery.
"I guess so," I replied, shrugging. "It was a good day."
The guy rolled his eyes. Bitch! "That will be twenty dollars for the both
of you."
We handed him ten each and he opened the door for us. Immediately, I was
assaulted by a loud bass line of music and a blast of central air. The
floor literally shook with the force of the bass and the dancing bodies.
I looked around feeling out of place among the dancing teenagers. I
wasn't really a person who was comfortable dancing within a large crowd
unless there was a large group of friends with me. It was just how I
rolled.
"Hey!" I said, yelling over the music so Ryan could hear me. I pointed to
a set of stairs that led to a second floor balcony. "Let go up there!
Maybe we can get away from the music and spot Killian easier!"
Ryan nodded already knowing that if he replied his voice would just
become drowned out. We were too close to the speakers. It was impossible
to hear anything unless it was at a scream. We went up to the balcony and
I assessed the throng of people. Ryan was the first to spot him. Enhanced
senses at work.
"There he goes," said Ryan, pointing. "Do you see him dancing with the
redhead?"
I followed his finger. He was right. There was Killian, body moving in
time with a gyrating redhead girl that moved as if she wanted some
singles shoved down the thong that rode up the top of her jeans. I
blinked. Damn. Who knew Killian could dance like that? Don't get me wrong
I wasn't starting to like him like that. NO way. NO how. But I could
recognize good dancing when I saw it.
"That's odd," muttered Ryan, staring hard at the dance floor. "Look at
that."
I frowned, looking. "What are you talking about?"
"Look," said Ryan, motioning.
I looked and saw what he was talking about. It was odd. Around the room
girls and boys, who seemed to be by themselves were being pulled along.
Pulled along by older teens. Each one doing the leading were simply
breathtaking. Pale skin, striking features, and smiles that were both
alluring and seductive made me weak in the knees even from up here. I
looked closer at the girl dancing with Killian and she radiated the same
grace and beauty as the others.
"They're leading all the people who are alone away from the crowd," said
Ryan, his voice growing deeper, thoughtful. The Executioner showing
through into his mortal guise. "They're all leaving through that door. It
must lead to another room. It can't lead outside."
"So maybe a private party room?" I guessed, shrugging.
Ryan nodded, thoughtfully. "I think you're right. I'm more concerned
about Killian right now than anything. The girl is leading him off just
like that freaky-pretty group led those other single people off."
"You think they're preternatural?" I asked.
He nodded still eyeing the redhead leading Killian to the side door. "I
can feel it. The way they look, the way they move. They're entirely too
graceful to be human. Their beauty is a way to lure in victims.
They're predators, plain and simple."
I shuddered at his grave yet knowing tone. He sounded so sure. "They seem
familiar but I can't put my finger on it."
Ryan looked at me, his gaze all Executioner. "They're Vampires."
All we needed was one shared look between us before we took off down the
stairs going for the side door. I took point and opened the door and Ryan
shut it behind us. I was right. It was a huge room obviously used for
private parties or similar events. At the end of the large room was over
a dozen people surrounded by the inhumanely beautiful people, the
vampires. I swallowed. There was a lot of them. I didn't know if we could
take them all just the two of us. We might be in trouble. I came to as
laughter started to bubble up from the vampires circling the group of
confused and visibly frightened teens.
At once they're faces twisted, canine teeth lengthening and eyes taking
on an unearthly blaze. Their skin began to radiate an ethereal glow as
their hair started to shine and move in a sudden breeze. The room erupted
into chaos and screams.
Ryan nodded at me and I got the clue. Silently we accessed that part of
ourselves that made us Chosen, that well of energy where I power rested.
It filled us to the brim and our clothes shifted into our uniforms, the
black suits of mystical armor that nothing of modern technology could
hope to duplicate.
"You ready?" asked the Executioner.
I nodded. "Let's do this." I flexed my hand and willed a fireball to
appear in my palm. "Fireball!
It soared through the air and caught a vampire in the back. A shriek of
agony erupted before being quickly cut off as the vampire collapsed into
dust. The entire room looked at us standing at the end of the room. I
gave a wave and smirked.
"Can anyone join this party?" I asked, forming another fireball, tossing
it up and then catching it, all the while smirking.
The Executioner grinned. "Or is it invite only?"
The vampires turned to us, a collective hiss echoing through the room. I
almost wanted to take a step back from the look of hatred and disgust
they gazed at us with.
"The Chosen," hissed the redhead that held Killian's arm in a vice grip.
I knew that grip had to be painful. I could see Killian was trying hard
not to cry out from the vice grip like hold on his arm. I knew later that
if I looked his arm would be covered in nasty bruises. I really didn't
like the way they were eyeing us. The look of hate was slowly replaced by
hunger, and fuck me it was making me nervous. A vampire stepped forward
and I reacted.
"Fireball!" I shouted, panicky, throwing the attack on pure reflex.
The vampire exploded in a cloud of dust. A heartbeat later the other
vampires moved as one, some diving into the crowd of teenagers and the
rest sped toward us. It was about to get real Mortal Kombat around here.
I dodged a punch and kicked out catching a one in the gut, knocking him
on his back.
"Angels above me,
Clouds circling thee.
Lend me your wings
So I can jump higher
Than the tallest tree."
I jumped away from a trio of growling vampires. I soared through the air
and landed near the gathered mass of horrified teenagers. I sent two
fireballs into the chests of the vampires holding them captive. I dusted
another one that tried to feed on a hysterical blond girl. They looked at
me, blinking stupefied, once I freed them.
"Go! Run!" I yelled, pointing at the exit door that led outside.
They took the hint and ran for it. A couple of vampires grabbed at some
of the escaping people. I swore. I needed some help here. Unfortunately,
the Executioner had his hands full. He was going against half a dozen
vampires, holding his own well, but I knew that he couldn't keep that up
forever. We needed to end this. I felt something knock me in the back of
the head and my vision swam as I collapsed to my knees. What the fuck, I
thought, feeling dizzy and nauseous. I looked up in time as Killian
appeared at my side, swinging a chair at the vampire who was closing in
for the kill.
"Stay back you fucking freak!" Killian shouted, swinging the wooden chair
like a madman.
The vampire was a tall male that looked eighteen, but was older than
that. Much older. He looked at Killian and laughed. His hand shot out
with a speed that my eyes couldn't follow. The chair was slapped away and
Killian went down at the hit, falling on his back. His head slammed hard
against the ground. He stayed there on the floor, still and unmoving.
"Killian!" I screamed, my heart stopping in my chest.
My vision swam as my sight turned black. I felt time stop as my mind
suddenly sparked and something within my soul clicked. I was dragged into
a memory. A memory from my past life.
"Apollo!"
I could not find him. Where could he be? Could that explosion had – no, I
would not think like that. I could not envision being a team without
Apollo with us. He was a link in our chain that could never be replaced.
"There!" shouted the Executioner. "Warlock do you see him?"
I nodded, running toward the still form. Gods, there was so much blood.
Was all of this his? I fell to my knees at his side, the starbursts of
exploding power in the distance no longer registered to my senses. The
Executioner came to my side.
"I can hear his heartbeat," he said, sighing in relief. "He's alive."
I touched him and suddenly there was a groan as Apollo moved, his eyes
opening. I felt a stirring in my heart as relief washed over me. The mist
that once obscured his face from my memory cleared and vanished,
revealing bright green eyes, the color of emeralds, and hair that was
neither blond nor red, but a mix of both. I knew this person my soul told
my mind, finally putting a face to the mystery person. I knew him in this
life as well as the last one.
"You did not think that blast would be rid of me?" whispered Apollo, his
voice weak but teasing, a pained smile on his face.
I squeezed his hand, glad my friend was back. "Never. Where would I be
without my best friend."
Time resumed and I found myself back in my body. It couldn't be! But it
was. Apollo. Killian. Killian. Apollo. They were one in the same! Wait.
Killian used to be my best friend?!? Dammit. Get a grip Summers there was
no time for thinking like that! I closed my eyes and touched my power. My
magic exploded outward throwing the vampires gathering around me back,
sending them flying into the four corners of the room. I crawled to
Killian's side. He was conscious. Thank They Above All for small
miracles. His gaze drilled into me as I came to his side.
"Killian?" I asked.
He tried to move away from me, his gaze becoming panicked. "Get away from
me! What the hell-"
I shushed him. "Listen! Now is not the time. You might not remember me
but I remember you. Here is where you have to make a choice. Do you want
to live the life you've been leading or do you want realize who you
really are?"
Surprisingly, he didn't even pause. It was almost like he knew this was
coming.
"Show me who I am. I've been waiting for you."
I blinked, startled. Dammit. No time for questions. I needed to do this
quick before we all became vamp food. I placed my index finger on his
brow between his eyelids and concentrated. I reached into his soul and
touched that part of himself that had been sealed off with our
reincarnation. I gave it a nudge and released the seal with a spark of
power. Our eyes opened simultaneously as he gasped and jerked with such a
force that I fell back.
I gasped at the sight before me when I recovered. Standing in front of me
was Killian, but not. He was now dressed in the same lightweight, black
armor that I and the Executioner wore. But whereas I wore a hooded cloak,
and the Executioner a duster, Killian sported a short, hip length jacket,
black and fitted nicely, showing off his form. On his face was a pair of
black shades that he pulled up so they rested on the top of his head.
He gave me a confused smile, as he helped me up. "Emrys? Warlock?"
I nodded, wondering how much did he remember. "It has been a long time,
Apollo. We must take care of these vampires first then I'll explain
everything."
The expression of confusion was replaced by a look of duty. He knew what
he had to do. He was a warrior first and foremost and nothing would
change that. It was why we were Chosen.
"Vampires were always my specialty," he said more to himself than me.
Killian raised his arms so they pointed out, fingers splayed. I gave a
start as pinpoints of light began to gather at his fingertips. They grew
brighter and bigger till I couldn't look directly at them without being
blinded.
"DAWN..."
The pinpoints grew brighter in intensity. Killian tilted his head and his
sunglasses fell down from his head landing perfectly on his face.
"BRINGER!"
The light shot from his fingers at the speed of light. The beams traveled
the room, splitting and multiplying, hitting every vampire in range. The
beams ripped through their bodies, melting through bone and instantly
setting them aflame, making them explode into ash. The beams that didn't
catch a vampire scorched the walls where they hit, turning the spots
black as tar. Luckily, all the bystanders had fled and the Executioner
and I both had the sense to get the fuck to the floor, ducking as if our
lives depended on it. Hell, they did.
The beams died and in the silence there was nothing left of the vampires
except smoking piles of ash and sprays of blood that dotted the floor. We
rose to our feet and surveyed the room. I swallowed. I can see why
vampires were his specialty.
We looked at the newest Chosen and he turned to us, his vacant eyes
looking inward, remembering.
"I am Apollo," he shook his head. "No, I'm Killian. That's my name. I was
Apollo." He swallowed, thinking, coming to a decision. "That's who I was,
but I still am. I can feel it." He looked at us solemnly. "I was once
called Solaris, the champion of light."
Champion of light indeed.
I licked my lips. "We should leave. And then we have A LOT to talk
about."
Plus, I needed a Tylenol.
Killian, a Chosen? I could feel a headache coming on.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I bet you guys thought you had to wait a long time too for another
chapter! We finally have another Chosen with us. And drama is sure to
follow with the revelation. A lot of you knew it was going to be Killian.
Kudos! Next chapter: They inform Killian of their mission. Arguments,
fights, and team bickering are to come.
THANK YOU everyone who has taken the time to email me. I love reading all
your emails. I'm starting get a few ideas from some suggestions so please
keep them coming. You can write to me at Silvenfox@yahoo.com