Ordained (6 page)

Abby looked deep into her eyes. Usually she could get a feel for a person, figure out whether they would be friend or foe, but this one eluded her. Her glare was so unmoved Abby didn’t know what to make of it. Fearless, almost.

Jayden followed her into the hallway. For once, too interested in the other woman’s reaction, he paid no mind to Abby.

“Chancellor, your eight-thirty is here,” he stated.

Noel withdrew himself from the office. She felt a forceful hand push her into motion. His body positioned itself between her and the others.

From an increasing distance, Abby heard the Chancellor invite the woman into his office, calling her Valerie. Even though Abby was still looking to her, Valerie’s attention was drawn to Jayden, who was eying her suspiciously. She ignored him and entered the office. Despite being able to read Valerie’s character, Abby couldn’t help but find the woman likeable. The look she gave Jayden as she turned her back on him was commendable. She too saw him as nothing. Too bad she preferred the life of the peeping mute.

The accommodations given to Abby and Noel were small and old. It wasn’t the lifestyle they were accustomed to, but it was livable. The bedroom and adjoining bathroom had been kept up but it hadn’t been updated for several decades. They were given nothing more than two twin beds, two bedside tables, two lamps and two chest of drawers.

Noel was lying on one of the beds, intensely rubbing the area between his eyes. Abby was too high strung to relax. She wore down more of the musty carpet runner as she continuously walked back and forth, cursing Jayden under her breath.

“Just breathe.”

“Oh, that’s real funny,” snapped Abby. She didn’t mean to but she had very little control over her emotions at the moment. “Had you just let me rip his throat out I wouldn’t be so ticked off right now!”

That last snippet was immediately followed by a burn deep in her chest. She gasped and threw her hand to her heart. Noel’s reaction to her reaction was just as quick. His eyes bugged open in concern as he shot up in bed.

“It’s nothing,” she immediately puffed. She turned her back on him, her lips disappeared into her mouth and her arms wrapped around her body.

She knew he didn’t believe her. And with good reason.

She needed to calm down but the conversation with Jayden kept playing in her head over and over again, each time making her angrier.
Such a contribution, really.
She never wanted to smack someone so much! How dare they complain! They, whose insufficient education and training led to all those deaths, had the nerve to complain that their hunters weren’t good enough.
Then train them all-freakin’-ready!
Make them capable of fighting more than vampires. Emily had been under her care for two years now and already had improved ten-fold.

Without thinking, her right hand let go of the left side of her waist and flung across her body.
Whoosh
! The bathroom door slammed shut and the lamp beside it clunked to the floor.

She winced, knowing full well Noel was about to unleash on her.

“Abby,” he sighed. He was lying down again, the heels of his palms pushing hard into his brow bones.

After a moment of silence she released the cringe to her spine. It looked like she was going to get a pass this time. He hated when she used her powers to ease her anger and was usually pretty verbal about it. Anger and magical powers hadn’t worked out so great for her in the past.

Her parents were partly to blame for that. Her so-called sperm donor seduced her mother. She was a good witch and he was an evil warlock. His initial plan was to keep Abby for himself and raise her evil. Having the ability to perform magic for both white and black sides meant Abby could block spells from witches and warlocks alike. A magical hybrid – daddy’s perfect little bodyguard.

Her mother caught on to the scheme before she was born and ran, casting protection spells to shadow their locations. Abby got only three years with her mother before the fire. She really wished she had a drawing of her. All that was left was a distorted haze. No matter how many times she tried to wipe the image clean, a smear always remained, seemingly worse than the one before. Sort of like the black spots that develop on the surface of really old mirrors. Eventually, there’s nothing left to see anymore.

She did remember loving her mother though. She was completely enthralled by her ability to manipulate the natural elements. Wind was always Abby’s favorite to watch. Who needed toys when your mother could lift the most mundane of objects, like pinecones, twirl them around in the air and smash them about for you? Or lift the petals from flowers and swirl them around to make pictures or patterns.

She still had the memories though, and for that she was thankful. And for the powers she passed down to her.

But she also inherited something from the
other
gene giver. The power of pyrokinesis. She could easily create and control a fire within her own hands. Too easily. There was something different about this power. She could
feel
it inside her. It was warm and soothing and stress relieving. It usually came out in a fit of rage and actually
calmed
her anger. But it also did something else.

She’s never meant to use the power on purpose, but when it came out, she could feel herself changing inside. More like yearning – for her to use it again, and again. Like something within her was addicted and needed a fix.

That something came out of her shortly after she left the school. Her memory had long faded and she couldn’t remember what happened to bring it on, only that it suffocated her. The warm pressure within her topped out – and then she snapped.

The physical change was immediate. Normally, her eyes flashed bright white when she used her good powers, like wind manipulation. This time, her eyes flashed black and the colors disappeared from her vision. During this moment she had an out of body experience. She felt
pushed
to the back of her body, as if some other entity within her was trying to take over. She could feel Noel grip her face, hear his distorted voice and see the panic in his eyes as he looked deep into hers, but she wasn’t really in them anymore. Her view had minimized, condensed to the smallest circle. A tiny light in the darkness. She felt stuffed and cramped.

It was when she heard him yelling for her to come back to him that she felt a surge build within her. He wasn’t her husband at the time, but she felt an odd connection to him. She didn’t want to stay where she was, but back where he was. She lunged desperately toward the light. Like a rubber band, she snapped back into her body. Everything was clear again. Her sight was full colorful vision and her hearing was no longer muffled. And the blackness in her eyes retreated as quickly as it came.

She didn’t know it then, but this was the first time Abby had met the entity within her attached to those dark powers. She didn’t doubt there were more powers within her she had yet to experience. She hoped to God she never did. But the darkness within her never gave up. Every time Abby inadvertently used them, she could feel the burn inside her grow stronger. Fearful the entity would pull her back to the backside of her body again, she vowed never to use them again.

Noel, however, disagreed with her, saying the powers were given to her to be used, in moderation. “It’s not the power that’ll turn you evil, Abby. It’s the manner in which you use it. You only ever use it when you’re angry, to lash out at something or to harm someone.
That
in itself is the definition of dark magic. You think it’s evil because your father –” he paused as she cringed at the word, “gave it to you. If your mother had given it to you then we wouldn’t be having this argument.”

He may have been right, but she wasn’t interested in pursuing it. It was bad enough it still came out of her on occasion.

“Hit me.”

“What?” Abby asked, taken aback. Her thoughts were so transfixed that she neglected to see Noel had risen before her and was standing with his arms open.

“Hit me.”

The thought repulsed her. “I’m not going to hit you.” She continued her pacing around his body.

“Well, I can’t have you going out there and hitting someone else. Come on.” Noel lifted his chin and turned sideways, pointing to his face.

“No.”

He continued to taunt her as she paced across the room. Her head was beginning to hurt. After his fourth taunt, she finally did it. The forceful blow to his face hardly caused a flinch but the knee to the groin sent him down to the ground with a wince.

“Thanks. That does feel better,” she said, her lips curling with satisfaction. The wooden legs screeched as she pushed the two twin beds together. She bounced up and down a few squeaky times, finally landing belly up on the hard bed, causing a loud
thunk
as the bed recovered. “This is gonna take a while to break in. Care to help?” she asked with a suggestive grin.

“Not anymore,” cried Noel as he pulled himself up off of the floor.

She felt kind of bad watching him hobble forward. “In all fairness, you did provoke me.”

“I said hit. I said nothing about kicking.” He crawled next to her in bed.

Abby gave her typical ‘yeah, whatever’ look.

“And by the way, kicking hurts you in the end too. Case in point.”

She curled up in his arms and fell lost in thought again, thinking back to the meeting not so long ago. “They kept calling me Abigail,” she said indifferently, twiddling her fingers as she followed the swirl-like pattern on the ceiling.

“Well, that is your formal name.”

“I don’t remember ever using it. When did I start going by Abby?”

Noel pondered for a minute. “I don’t know. I guess I started calling you that when we were courting.”

Abby curled deeper into Noel’s arms, burying her face in his warm neck. She always felt safe there. Despicable as it was, they had become accustomed to death through the years. The more people continued to die around them, the more they latched onto one another. Noel was her one constant in life, and she was his. She stared into nothingness, not really thinking about anything in particular, just sensing her surroundings. She still didn’t like them. There was something off about this place.

“What’s wrong?” Noel whispered.

“I don’t like it here. There’s just something about this place that gives me the creeps.”

“Gee, could it be your childhood memories?” Noel asked sarcastically, followed by an immediate grunt.

“I don’t have any. I can remember the things that happened before I came here and after I left, but I can’t remember any of the years I lived here.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but quickly closed it again. After a moment’s hesitation, he responded with, “It was two hundred years ago, Abby. It’s natural to forget a few things, particularly when we’re young.”

Chapter Nine

He sat behind his desk, watching Valerie stare indifferently at him. For almost twenty years, he had been meeting with her on a scheduled basis. She was pulled from normal duties at the age of seven once her advisor, Roger, realized she had the ability to see the future. Her cognitive visions frequently included death, vampires and a demonic monster known only to the staff of the Order. Needless to say, the visions terrified her and caused her to recoil into herself. Moore was ashamed to admit it, but her withdrawal from her peers had worked to the Order’s advantage. They spent years aiding her to focus her ability directly on the hunters.

During the past twelve years, Valerie had predicted and prevented six premature deaths, including one suicide. The deaths caused by Eraticus were unavoidable, and to his surprise, kept quiet. At first she mentioned them in detail, horrified by what she saw. She knew every gory detail that awaited that particular hunter, but she never told them. Perhaps it was her lack of friendship with them, perhaps pity. But Moore suspected it was the ordeal of having to explain to the hunter how they would die, for they surely could not escape it. Felix, Jennifer, even the death of his own hunter, Amanda, was described to him prior to their demise. The nightmares that followed for him couldn’t have possibly equaled the horrendous pictures flashing before Valerie’s eyes. Amanda’s death particularly scarred him. She never again described the deaths related to Eraticus - and Moore never again asked.

The week’s session was once again fruitless. As desperate as he was to learn the fate of his organization, he considered himself lucky. No visions meant no deaths were upon him. Perhaps having Abigail around would help after all.