Chapter 1 Wood snapped from and a body plummeted inside his blackened tomb. Fresh air rushed in and when the man hit the ground it mingled with coppery blood. His lungs greedily sucked it in, savoring the fresh scent to breathe once more. Eyes strained and adjusted to the sliver of light from the hole above and at the scream they shifted to his savior. The hole wasn’t enough to escape; he needed the man withering in pain on the ground. So close to freedom his body vibrated, but his mind shackled him still and ordered for patience. Though he strived for a calm voice, it crackled from disuse. “Your legs broken” “I’m aware” the man stuttered in pain. A fallen plank turned their gazes above towards the hole, their only source of light and oxygen. “Escape is futile with that leg,” The man peered up at him. “You’re Kellen, right? You can get us out,” Hope rang in the man’s voice, he almost didn’t recognize it. So long without hope a smile struggled to bloom on his face and he squandered it. Now wasn’t the time. “I am. And if I’d possessed the power to escape this prison, I would’ve a long time ago,” In the shadows, Kellen leaned against a rigid wall to give him privacy; absorb his situation. Patience, soon he’ll break. Sobs echoed off the cavern in fresh bouts of tears, and this time, Kellen allowed himself to smile. “I’m going to die here,” The man wailed. Desperation was his only weapon here, and he moved towards it. A desperate mind will yield and obey one only needs the knowledge to wield it. His eager hand comforted the man’s bare arm, and for a moment he’d allowed himself to revel in the touch. “What is your name?” The man flinched and pulled his arm back. “Ad-Adam,” “Adam. I’m unable to escape this tomb, however you have the power to set us free,” Again Kellen waited, this time for hope instead of despair. Though dim, realization brightened Adam’s face. “What do I need to do?” Kellen turned his attention to the plaque on the ground, directly below the hole, Illuminated by the new light. When Adam followed his gaze and locked his focus on the stone, Kellen explained. “Your blood on the seal will break the curse and set us free,” Adam shuffled towards the worn metallic stone; he ran a finger over the inscription. Kellen held his breath and hoped he couldn’t read Sumerian. If he had, he’d read ‘A mortal sacrifice will release him, an immortal one will set him free’ Another scream ripped through the cave as Adam pressed down on the break of his leg. Blood seeped out of his pants and soaked his palm and dripped onto the plaque. The cavern rattled beneath them. Splintered wood and rock fell from above, white light bled from the stone and snuffed the darkness with radiance. Kellen welcomed the light, Adam shielded from it. White faded into gold, replaced by the sun, and Kellen turned his head towards the sky. Rain dripped down his face and washed the debris. Lungs cleansed with new air. Skin warmed from the sun, freed at last. The sky cracked, thundered in anger, and he beamed at their objections to his escape. Adam shivered and shielded from the rain, lying limp on the soggy earth. Kellen’s bare feet sloshed on mud and sopping grass, and he knelt beside Adam, placing his palm on the injured leg. Bright yellow light shined between the contact, and soon separated bone fused together, broken skin bonded once more, and bruises disappeared back to its natural flesh. As the man bent his leg and straightened it a few times, Kellen took in his surroundings. Green exploded the area with leaves, lushes shrubs and endless trees, the land altered from the brown of sand and dirt from the last he’d seen it. Encased in complete darkness, time was unreadable. It moved in secret, and he wondered how much had passed? Though he wanted answers, discretion now was a priority. He’d escape and soon others will search for him, he’d need to be ready. “Wow. It’s good as new. Like nothing ever happened.” Adam said bouncing from foot to foot. Kellen blinked back to reality. “Indeed” “You got any plans now that you're free?” Adam asked. A devilish smirk pulled at his lips. “I do” Kellen tapped into the mind of Adam and with a slight squeeze, Adam dropped to the ground unconscious. He yanked the man’s pants off his limp body and climbed into them. Though the pants were small compared to his larger frame and soaked in water and blood, Kellen missed the feel of fabric against his skin. With Adam abandoned, he followed a path in the woods and soon soft earth turned hard and remarkably smooth below his bare feet. Warm black rock flattened and cut through the land, making its own path with painted lines on the surface as a guide to follow. Led by sunlight, he moved forward till dense trees sparse, replaced by large dwellings and a large painted sign, ‘Welcome to Kara Creek’. Roads emptied, rain ceased, he roamed. Unfriendly and unusual the civilization he’d entered as curious eyes shifted in fright when he glanced their way. From behind, the sound of pounding steps advanced with urgency and his pulse ran, matching its pace. How’d they find him so quickly? In his eagerness, had he overlooked being watched? With tight fists he turned to face his assailant and she halted in her tracks. For a moment, the shock of her beauty cracked his armor before he strengthened it. A vision of contradiction. Her face was sharp under soft creamy skin. Hair like sunshine. Eyes like moonlight. Full lashes with full lips and a dainty nose between. If only she wasn’t a potential threat. “Are you okay?” She said laced only with concern. “I’m well,” She brushed wet golden strands away from her face and removed white buds from her ears. “Maybe, but you could use a shower.” If she was to capture and lure him to his prison, she’d need to summon others, warn them of his arrival. Yet she remained without fear or hostility. Only kindness sparked in those smoky eyes, and so he lowered his guard and scanned his own attire. Bare chest streaked with mud, pants stained with blood, feet blackened with earth. She was right, he’d need to bathe and rid the evidence of his escape. “Indeed, I do,” She offered him a smile and shrugged. “Well, I don’t live far from here. Why don’t we get you cleaned up?” A woman of the night. One of the oldest professions and a service he’d never partake in. However, at the moment a shower was a necessity and if bedding her was to achieve it, he’d happily oblige. “I have no coin to offer,” “That’s alright, just pay it forward,” He nodded in answer, and she gestured with her hand toward her dwelling. “I’m Genevieve by the way” she’d said with a warm cheery voice and led them forward. Kellen remained silent during the quick journey. Soon they stopped in front of a large rectangular building, with a single glass door. Genevieve pulled out a metallic key and unlocked it. The last he’d seen of the mechanisms was to store treasure in boxes. Never had he imagined it used to exclude and contain people. As they climbed the last flight of stairs, and crossed a long hall with doors on either side, and when the fabric floor came to a stop, they’d reached their destination. Again, she’d pulled out a metallic key and opened the wooden door, ushering him inside. The first thing he’d noticed was the spacious dwelling. Wooden slat floors throughout one large room only divided by a half wall and a small narrow path off to one side that led to a hidden door. The second was the grotesque green floral couch behind a short glass table; it was equally revolting, as it was inviting. At the thump of her shoes hitting the ground, he’d turned to her. Delicate fingers pinched a shiny clip from the center of her chest, it slit the fabric apart and she stripped it off. Exposing to him, her shoulders in a sleeveless shirt, cut low, her cleavage peaked through the top. She shot him a smile only a night-woman could possess. A lure to pull a man forward and bring him to his knees. As she hung her clothes in a closet, he inched closer and reached out to grab her waist. She was quicker and slapped him across the cheek. “What the hell are you doing?” At her appalled expression, he’d stepped back. “I’m not aware of this world’s customs regarding women of the night,” “You think I’m a hooker!” “You’re dressed provocatively” He said, gesturing with his hand at her apparel. She followed his hand with her eyes, then frowned at him. “I’m wearing yoga pants and a tank top, cause I went for a run. You’re the one only wearing pants,” “Ahh. So, I’m here as your gentleman caller,” “What? No. Look, just cause I dragged you to my place to strip you out of your filthy pants doesn’t mean… huh?” As realization dawned on her, her expression brought a rumble to his belly and for a moment he didn’t recognize it until it erupted and he laughed. Heat rose to her cheeks, and she joined him. “Well, to be clear, I’m not a hooker and I have a boyfriend. So, you don’t need to worry about me taking advantage of you,” Like she ever could. “Then why am I here?” She moved further into the home and spoke over her shoulder. “You look like you’re having a tough time, and you could use some kindness. The showers this way,” He’d surveyed his exit, then towards her, calculating his options. Leave this dwelling, explore the unknown world, once barred from him for so long. Or stay inside once more, with another and wash away his past. For now, he’d accept her pity, and followed her to the bathing quarters. Genevieve set the shower and placed clean clothes and a towel on top of a basket. “These are Luke’s, my boyfriends. He won’t mind if you have them. After your done I’ll put your pants in the wash,” “Unnecessary. You can discard them; they’ve outlived their purpose,” She snickered, shaking her head, and closed the door as she left. Before he set into the tub, he’d caught his reflection in a mirror. Arctic blue eyes, the colour validating his unusual kind and hoped for his sake others were unaware of it. No matter his state of appearance, and the pity others had for him, he saw freedom in every dried mud smeared on his smooth face and the layers of dust piled on top of his black hair. The curtain swooshed as he pulled it aside to let himself in. Warm water hit him at once, washing away dried blood, dirt and his tensions. Soaped, rinsed and deemed clean, he stepped out and turned the protruding knobs till the shower ceased. Soft loose pants stretched and fit him around the waist. His upper half wasn’t as fortunate. The fabric clung to his chest and stomach, so tight it lifted at the base, yet malleable enough for him to breathe. Kellen made his way towards the sitting room, where Genevieve perched on the floral couch. He’d settled on the other end of it and watched as her fingers tapped on the metallic book. She paused with an enormous grin when he joined her, and it fell at the sight of him. Widened eyes wandered and scanned his clean face. A hint of colour tinged her thin skin. He’d hoped her reaction was desire, however fear of recognition was a possibility. So, he tapped into her mind for confirmation, instead met with silence. Quiet as some minds may be, none were ever silent. Why was hers? Determined eyes focused to hear her, only to fail again and again. “Well, you clean up nicely” Genevieve said to break the awkwardness which formed between them. “Indeed” He said and ripped his eyes away to focus on the box in her lap. The bottom filled with letters and buttons and the top a picture with words. She’d flattened the device and put it aside. “I’m trying to find a venue that can hold 400 people in this town, but I’m coming up empty” she answered what she believed was his unspoken question. However, he pondered what the box itself was. “Why would you need to procure such a large location?” “Because it’s my job, I’m a…” she paused and her eyes shifted away from him, as though her profession was a secret she couldn’t delve into. “Army. Um… yeah… I work for the army” Infantry? The slender woman beside him was a warrior? The kindness she bestowed on him to enrich his life she also took those of others. And yet again he’d failed to find the truth in her silent mind. For once, he’d have to trust someone’s word as truth. Perhaps she was lethal in her own regard. Before he could inquire more, she stood from the couch. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. I know it’s late, but are you up for some pasta?” “I won’t be partaking in it. My opinion is inconsequential,” “You need to eat. Besides, I make a killer pasta sauce. Not tonight though, today is sauce Alla jar, but it’s still good.” His brow raised, and he smirked. “Does my appearance warrant the need for nourishment?” Her eyes roamed his body. Heat tinged her cheeks again. “Um. Fine suit yourself, but I’m hungry and my kindergarten teacher would scold me if I didn’t at least offer,” As she moved to the food preparation area, he noticed she’d changed out of her provocatively painted fabric to baggy fit pants like his and a simple shirt above. Beside his seat on a small glass table rested a worn book. The title captivated him. ‘Destroyer of man’ his moniker before banished into the cave. He skimmed the pages and found the contents were of him. His history, his abilities, and his sentence all captured and bounded here with her. Bare feet prattled on hardwood as she entered the room with the stench of tomato and starch. Engrossed in the book. He didn’t move to acknowledge her presence, still uncertain why she’d have it. “My friend Ayla recommended it. I haven’t started it yet, not too keen to read about an ancient supervillain.” She said from her seat on the couch, swirling pasta on her fork. A villain he’d understand, super also true, however ancient had his heart flutter. The book sat back on the table; he asked. “What is the year?” She narrowed her eyes in question. “It’s 2025, geese how long have you been living on the streets?” His expression froze, as did the rest of his body. “It would seem a great while” A thousand years locked in a tomb, as the world evolved beyond adaptability. Escaped into a world where everyone he’d known died left alone to assimilate. And vowed for vengeance to take the lives of all Fae’s for the lifetimes they’d cost him. Kellen rested his head on the back of the couch cushion and closed his eyes, breathing through his fury. “It’ll be alright, you can stay here tonight and we’ll see what we can do for you tomorrow. Okay?” Her voice was soothing, effective in calming his anger. Her words poured hope through him, but her touch was contrary. A soft hand pressed on his arm, elicited an ache deep in his belly, and it spread outward. He could only nod, not trusting his voice to answer. Grateful, she pulled away and focused on her meal while he settled his reaction. For now, she was his only ally, his guide to this world, but could he trust her with his inability to read her mind? Would she provide assistance if she knew his true identity? “You thirsty?” Genevieve asked as she left the couch with her empty bowl. “No,” “You know you make it difficult to be hospitable when you refuse almost everything I offer,” she called from the other room. “That’s unfortunate, as I’m not thirsty nor do I require fluids,” Her whispered chuckles reverberated in the open room. “What the hell does that mean? Did you want non-hydrating liquid instead? I’ve got a box of red,” Never had he hid his identity before, and it would seem he wasn’t a natural at deception. “Would it please you if I accepted the offer?” “Yeah, if it means I don’t drink alone” she called to him as she pulled a box from a cupboard. “Then by all means pour me a glass,” From his seat, the clunky box was awkward to pour and as he’d predicted, the glass fell off the counter and shattered on the white-tiled floor. He rushed over at the sound of her yelp to find her crouched on the shiny and examining her hand. Fresh iron brought his focus towards the blood and on the other side of the pond of shattered glass he offered his palm. “May I?” Genevieve placed her wounded hand in his, and he examined it. A trivial injury, a flash of water and a week’s time it’d heal and soon be forgotten. With his ability it’d be seconds and he willed his hand to glow and mend the wound, however once again, nothing. Focused he pushed again and again, but unsuccessfully, the blood continued to seep and drip. “Are you done?” she scuffed and pulled back her hand, bringing it to the water basin, and washed it with a miniature shower. After she wrapped it with paper, she found herself trapped and pointed at a door behind him. “Can you hand me the broom and dustpan in the closet?” Not wanting to appear foolish in retrieving her articles, he stepped forward and picked her up by the waist and spun her out of the room. “You fetch, I’ll clean,” Kellen ordered. When she was out of sight, he tasted her blood on his hand. Not a Fae, or Troll, but Human? A mere mortal immune to his gifts, it wasn’t possible; she was impossible. After he cleaned the mess, he returned to the sitting area to find she’d turned it into a bed with pillows and sheets. Genevieve spun and smiled at him. “Thanks for cleaning up” With a wave of his hand, he dismissed her gratitude and drifted towards his bed for the evening. The book glowered at him from the table and he asked. “Where can I acquire books here?” “Hmm, well, you can borrow books at the university library. I can take you tomorrow.” She answered while bringing her hand to a band on top of her head and unfastened her hair. Long golden strands cascaded past her shoulders; her sweet citrus scent hit him in waves. He breathed till his lungs filled and his insides warmed from her delicious perfume. Instead of embracing the calm, he questioned it. The mortal woman was immune to his abilities, yet her aroma captivated him. When she caught her bottom lip between her teeth, his pulse thickened. His head tilted to the side as he continued to study her. “What are you?” “Tired. It’s late we should probably get some sleep.” An answer revealing nothing. He remained alert and watched her movements. With a click the room surrounded in darkness and she left him. But before she closed her door and retired for the evening, she said. “Good night,” Alone, he laid on the soft couch; the cushions molded around his body, and he welcomed the change to the hard earth of the cave. Smooth walls in a boxed room, with plush cushions beneath him, abnormally his pulse quickened and his heart hammered in his chest. The shadowed dwelling morphed into a rocky black cave. It closed in and thinned the air. His lungs struggled to breathe as his body screamed to escape and he rushed to the exit to find it sealed. He moved to the window, but the glass panes didn’t budge, trapped again in darkness. Despair rushed through his veins, it chilled his body, his muscles trembled, yearning for freedom. Mind tormented by memories of the cave, his eye tunneled towards the window, fogging from his heavy breaths, a target for escape. And he broke through the glass barrier and dropped three floors to the ground and ran.

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