Marked for Vengeance (33 page)

The Alyx Rayer
Chronicles:

By: S.J. Pierce

Book One:

MARKED FOR
VENGEANCE

Book Two:

TETHERED BY FATE

Book Three:

DESTINED FOR
FIRE

“There is no
fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with
punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.”

(1 John 4:18)

PROLOGUE:

A
Private Bungalow

Who would have
known that their reunion would be filled with lighthearted chit-chat,
flirtatious touches, and lingering looks? Isaac’s back had healed nicely, and
the color had returned to his face. Both pleasant surprises, as well. They sat
in the center of his tent on the edge of a feather-filled mattress, and wispy,
white curtains draped across the canopy overhead, encasing them in a private
bungalow for two.

“We only have a
moment left,” Alyx whispered as his hand caressed her flushed cheek.

“Let’s make the
most of it then,” Isaac replied, leaning in for their first real kiss.

Their hearts
pounded together as their lips met, and he moved his hand to her breast – a
signal that he intended for every thrilling minute to be utilized to the
fullest.

They fell onto
the soft cloud, their arms and legs entangled, their bodies rocking, crashing
into each other in waves. She bit her bottom lip to keep from moaning,
revealing their sordid love affair to those who deemed it wrong – a punishable
offense.

His teeth
fastened to her shoulder with a playful nip. She arched her back as his thrusts
deepened, strengthened. This was it. Their lips met once more to share the
moment together, the precise second that their bonding was sealed, and their
bodies trembled in unison.

Breathing
heavily, he rolled to the side and brushed the crease of her elbow with his
fingertips. “I love you, Alyx.”

“I love you
too,” she purred, and a grin swept across her face. “One more time?”

CHAPTER 1:

Even God Couldn’t See Them

“Try to forget
about him,” Cindra said as she patted Alyx’s leg. “It will do you no good to
think of him if you can’t have him.”

Alyx snapped
from her erotic daydream, her eyes shifting to the ground from the labyrinth of
white, canvas tents ahead – the place where Isaac was hidden. Her friend was
right. It wouldn’t do her any good, but she couldn’t help herself. Because she
couldn’t be with him in person, her daydreams served as a weak consolation.

Her eyes moved
to the grouping of Protector Angels by the stage. She watched broodingly as
they socialized and bonded amongst themselves. Memories of days past at the
office replayed through her mind, standing around the break room with her
friends, talking about the latest gossip and happenings. It seemed like only
yesterday, but yet, so far away at the same time.

She knew her
days of being well-regarded were over. Even though most of the Protectors
seemed nice enough, they kept their distance the majority of the time as though
she had an invisible boundary line drawn around her with a sign that read,
“Keep Away.” However, there was a select group of girls that had an unabashed
contempt for her and would throw a look at her from time to time, whispering
feverishly amongst themselves – a grouping of three girls dubbed the
‘Christineth Clan’.

The leader of
the clan was a tall girl with long, honey hair and high cheekbones named
Christineth – the most petulant of the group. The others were Leena, an Asian
girl who could be seen as her sidekick, and Audrey who went along with whatever
the two of them said. She appeared to be a sweet girl but duped into being
their drone. Cindra had made attempts to be friendly with the three of them a
time or two, to be the peacemaker, but because of her unbreakable friendship
with Alyx, they continually wrote her off.

Cindra
encouraged Alyx to ignore them, assuring her that most of the other girls were
already sick of them too. But they were to spend every waking minute with one
another. Ignoring them would be a challenge, to say the least.

Standing at a
substantial distance away from the ‘Christineth Clan’ were the smallest of the
Protectors, Natalia and Serena, who mostly kept to themselves and leaned
against the pulpit talking to Willow. Willow aimed to be friends with everyone
– even Christineth and her loyal followers, who mildly accepted her since she
wasn’t directly linked to Alyx. But Natalia and Serena were completely
uninterested in winning over the affections of the ‘in crowd’. They even
introduced themselves to Alyx at the Angels’ camp as they dressed into their
robes before the mandatory gathering. During the introduction, Alyx had a
feeling it was mainly to spite Christineth since Natalia would toss a smirk in
her direction periodically, seemingly delighted that her act of friendliness
toward Alyx irked her. Alyx assumed the two of them would eventually have a
falling out and the thought secretly pleased her. Her money was on the short,
no-nonsense Natalia, even though Christineth was easily twice her size.

Normally Alyx
would have confronted Christineth to work on making amends, but anytime she
came anywhere near the girl she would turn her back or walk away. Her problem
with Alyx ran deep, and she couldn’t imagine why something she had done – assumedly
kissing Isaac – would offend her so badly. She resolved that it wasn’t worth
pursuing to make right. Christineth could be the childish one, and Alyx would
try to ignore her as Cindra so persistently encouraged.

To take her mind
off of the forced isolation, Alyx’s gaze raked over the horizon. It could have
been the new dimension they were in, but even at night the island was a
wonderfully magical place. The star-filled sky shone clearer than she had ever
seen, and the silver moon that hung amongst them practically swallowed everything
beneath it whole. She imagined that if one were to run to the very East shore,
their fingertips would have the pleasure of brushing over its craterous, rocky
surface.

Even the
ambiance at the gathering place seemed fanciful in its own way. The flickering
of the torches around them cast dancing shadows on the tents, and the wind had
died down from earlier, creating a mood of serenity. If she hadn’t been so
melancholy due to her circumstances, she would have enjoyed the atmosphere
immensely. 

A flutter of
purple fabric caught her eye. The first gifted human emerged from the grouping
of tents to join them. Alyx set her shoulders back and preened her wavy black
hair, hoping Isaac might be among them. If the gateway had healed his wounds as
it had her multiple lacerations – courtesy of the beasts they encountered in
the other dimension – he might be well enough to join them tonight. Or at the
very least, make a brief appearance.

This first human
was a slender man with strawberry blonde hair shaved close to his scalp. He
appeared to be in his early twenties and had an arrogant way about him as he
strolled with his head held regally, observing who was in attendance. A pleased
grin toyed with his lips, assumedly because he was the first one to arrive, and
he planted himself on the first bench, directly in front of the platform.

The next human
caught Alyx by surprise. His peculiar appearance didn’t belong. Long, black
hair dusted the rounds of his shoulders and hadn’t been washed in three weeks,
at least. His light blue eyes glowered at the grass as he walked, and the
circles beneath them matched his purple robe. His head hung submissively, reminding
Alyx of a beaten dog, and when it rose to find a place to sit, her mouth
dropped. A black marking in the shape of a number four tainted the pale skin of
his forehead. Or was it a messy swastika?  It looked cryptic, nonetheless.

As he searched
the benches for a place to sit, her eyes shifted to his right arm whose hand fidgeted
with something inside his robe pocket. Sensing her curious stare, the man’s
eyes snapped to hers, and she jerked her head in the other direction.
Crap!
she thought and her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. Her fascination with
this strange man had been too obvious.

From her
peripheral view, she observed that he sat on the bench directly behind the tall
man who shook his hand politely. This astounded her. She assumed by his arrogance
that he was too good for everyone and would especially feel that way about the
unusual, sullen man.

As Alyx waited
for the next human to arrive, she noted that she was the only Protector
interested in them. All of the others continued to chatter amongst themselves,
totally indifferent to their presence. When their Elders advised them that the
humans were “no longer their concern”, they must have taken that to mean in
every literal sense of the word. But Alyx couldn’t help it, she wanted to know
about the others who shared this island with them and how their gifts would
contribute to their efforts.

Another
approaching human interrupted her train of thought. An Asian man with a splash
of silver in his black hair hustled around the corner of the platform toward
the benches. He hadn’t dressed in his purple robe like the others and wore a plain
white t-shirt and black slacks.
Interesting.
Intense focus strained the
muscles in his face, and he stroked his chin with his fingertips as he wandered
over to the peculiar man, plopping by his side.

Three humans
down, five to go,
she
thought and
shifted in her seat, hoping one of the next humans would be
Isaac or Micah.

Unfortunately, the
next to appear was a sturdy, rigid man, assumedly in his forties, but his
leathered skin – from what was probably years of smoking – made it impossible
to tell. His indignant brown eyes scrutinized everything around him as though he
didn’t trust anything or anyone and was forced to be there against his will.
Which technically, all of the humans were, but he undoubtedly resented it. He
trudged in a long, slow gait to the back of the gathering place with his arms
tightly crossed and stopped at the back row, a few benches over from Alyx and
Cindra. The wood creaked beneath his weight, the sturdy joints challenged by
his size.

He rested his
forearms on his legs and stared at the ground. He clearly preferred the
isolation, whereas Alyx had no say in the matter. She secretly wished that it
was
her choice as his had been; at least then, she would have the peace that came
from it being of her own accord.

* * *

Isaac forced his
eyes open to make sure what he had seen earlier wasn’t a hallucination. It took
a lot of energy, but he had to see.

He lay in the
same tent as before, face-down on a narrow cot surrounded by a flimsy mosquito
net. A rich, sweet smell saturated the air, which he could only attribute to
the burning of frankincense and myrrh. The incense curled up beside him from
the floor, and the intensity of its heady scent practically singed the inside
of his nostrils. He wouldn’t be surprised if he was destined to smell it
forever. 

His weary eyes scanned
through the tent for Micah who sat dutifully by his side the first time he
awoke. At the time, daylight brightened the inside of the tent, and the only
other people inside were a short Asian man who applied a dressing to his back
and an attractive, blonde woman insisting he take a few sips of bitter tea.
“Drink up, mon cher, this will heal you soon enough,” he remembered the French
lady saying. Her voice spread through the air like thick, sweet butter.

To his dismay,
the tent was empty now minus a table that held clear jars with herbs, a gas
lantern that cut through the darkness, and a surgical tray with clean
dressings. But the fact that he had seen his son before meant one of two
things; that Alyx had followed through with her promise to help find him, or by
some miracle his son found his way back to him. Either way, his presence
relieved him.

He attempted to
swallow, but his swollen, dry tongue made it impossible. Sweat trickled from
his forehead and onto the damp sheets, and his lungs worked overtime to suck in
the humid, stuffy air. He felt sure he would suffocate soon, especially with
the incense ruthlessly invading his airways.

He wanted to
push off of the cot to escape for fresher air but knew that would be impossible.
Every time air filled his lungs a merciless, stabbing pain shot down his spine
from the gash in his back. Besides, he had yet to feel his legs, and his toes were
unwilling to wiggle at his command.

“Hello?” he
asked hoarsely and winced. Speaking was
definitely
worse.

Immediately, the
cute blonde stuck her head into the opening of the tent with pursed lips, which
then stretched across the width of her face. She pranced over to him and flung
the mosquito net open. “How are you feeling?” she asked, placing her hand over
his forehand. “You feel feverish.”

“Water,” he
croaked.

“No problem.”

She bent to the
floor and poured water from a pitcher into the highball glass sitting beside
it. She placed a straw inside and gently positioned it to his mouth so all he
had to do was wrap his lips around it. He sucked the water down, enjoying the
cool, wet sensation as it relieved his parched throat.

“Do you want
another?” she asked.

He shook his
head as the last bit of liquid slurped through the straw.

“My name is Julie,”
she said kindly. “If there’s anything else I can get you let me know. I am your
nurse. Dr. Wu went to the meeting and will be back shortly.”

He turned his
gaze on the opening of the tent. “Where’s my son?” he asked and grimaced as
another stabbing pain blazed through his nerves.

“Micah is
asleep. I’ll tell him to come visit you again when he wakes.”

He smiled appreciatively
in response, unwilling to speak more than he had to.

His eyes drooped
like heavy weighted curtains, and he didn’t have the strength to fight it. Her
petite fingers combed through his dark brown hair that curled from the humidity.
“Go back to sleep now, I’ll be watching over you,” she said, and he succumbed
to another deep slumber.

* * *