Airel Black: The Awakening

By vanessa gregg

What if everything you knew about yourself, about your life was a complete lie. Could you cope? How about if the reality was fantastic, impossible and riddled with secrecy and dangers too complicated to fathom. Would you ignore the signs? Or awaken and rise to the challenge?

Airel, 22, grad student and gifted psychic has always used her instinct and her psychic gifts to guide her never questioning where they came from. But a chance encounter with a stranger set in motion events that will change her forever. Now her abilities aren’t working the way they used to work. They’re changing and so is she, but into what? Always in control of her emotions she begins to fall, for the one roommate she knows isn’t interested in her. Could he be the reason for the change? Nothing was going as planned.

At least Adam the uninterested roommate is what he seems ...right? Like everyone else in the house Adam has a secret, but his is a deadly one. Adam is really Aaron a demigod sent to earth to kill one of his roommates as vengeance for an old love, but which one? While he figures out which of his roommates is a demigod in hiding, he is distracted by his desire for the reluctant Airel , Who is the mirror image of his dead lover.

Will Airel ever find out what‘s changing her? Will Adam/Aaron ever complete his mission? Will the two ever realize their destinies are intertwined ?

• Language: English
• Publisher: vanessa gregg
• Release date: Aug 19, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476444949

Book preview

AIREL BLACK:

THE AWAKENING

A NOVEL BY

VANESSA L GREGG

Published by Vanessa Gregg at Smashwords

Copyright 2012 Vanessa Gregg

Find more titles at Smashwords.com and www.vanessaleagregg.com

Contents

Preface

Casualties of War

To a better Life

House Warming

Ghost Hunting

The Morning After

Redefining the Mission

God is in the Details.

A Love Remembered

A new direction

The Warning Awake

Can I ask you a favor?

A Word Please

A promise is a promise.

Lesson One

A funny thing

The Boat Trip

Say it isn't so Joe.

A storm is coming.

In this Life

Calm Down

Kismet

*** denotes a change in narration between

Airel and Aaron.

PREFACE

Destiny ... such a useless word. Until today, I'd never heard it spoken, other than in movies. Like most youth, I had a loose plan of the future. Drifting only by instinct, I was satisfied to live my life from one day to the other. If you told me I had a destiny, I'd probably laugh at you. What is destiny anyway? A destiny implies that you have no control .Something I refuse to believe. But that's the funny thing about it.. It doesn't require your belief or willingness to comply. One such as mine leaves you no choice... It was put into motion probably since the beginning of time it's self. This is how I became something much...much... more.

My story begins.....

In the beginning father created the heavens and earth, and so it goes. The breathes of existence whispered and leaked into the consciousness of a few chosen disciples. A tale of half-truths and omissions to stay the minds of man. When in truth mortals were not the only beings created. There was another....

Casualties of War

The signs from the ancestors had been appearing to Windtalker, these past few days. His visions had become more and more vivid. It was time to return to the ruins. He was being summoned by the one he called Blackheart. Blackheart with eyes darker than night it’s self.

This time seemed more urgent than the times before..Windtalker sensed that this would be the last time he would be summoned by the ancestors. His visions seemed to tell him of this. In times past he had received messages from the ancestors that helped his people survive. Wind talker was the shaman of his tribe, and was often looked upon to interpret the signs of the heavens and earth. These signs have kept his people near fertile hunting and fishing grounds. It concealed them from the white man with his disease and guns. Blackheart was always there it seemed to show him the path at which to take.

Windtalker himself was a skilled healer. He could also with an uncanny ability, resolve any argument by seeing the truth. Merely by looking into the eyes of the quarrelers, he could see the events as they unfolded. Who did what when, and how? Because of his exaction of seeing the events as they unfolded, he was very successfully at keeping his people together and thriving.

The evening soon gave way to star filled night. Windtalker together with his mate Little voice had reached the ruins a few hours ago. Little voice had been chosen as Windtalker mate. He was mated to Little voice upon the age of twelve. Little voice, ten at the time, never spoke a word until the day she met Wind talker. He was gathering herbs in a field near the village, for his father the previous shaman. When he noticed that he was being followed by a young maid. Aware of his company, he continued to pluck the herbs, when he heard a voice of a young girl.

What are you doing? she said. He turned faced Little voice and told her it was a cure for his father.

Without opening her mouth, she said ...You can hear me?

Yes, Windtalker replied.

No one ever answers my call, she said. They think that I cannot speak, but it is they who cannot hear me... Even when I scream. she said.

They cannot hear your voice because, you are not speaking where they can hear you. he said to her.

By the time he had finished collecting the herbs and returned with Little voice to the village. She was speaking where others could hear her as well. That very night she was promised to Windtalker . And the night she came of age, they were bonded.

The pair often communicated with each other in the way they did the first day they met all those years before. They had been bonded for five years now and have yet to conceive a child. Windtalker knew what pain this afforded Little Voice. However, he loved his mate, his best friend, since that day when they were young, and he refused to take another to bear him children. They were inseparable.

But, despite their closeness, this was the first time she had accompanied him to the ruins on the mountain side. The ruins were thought to be the original village of their people. But, for a reason unknown to them, it was deserted.

The time soon approached for Blackheart to appear. LittleVoice now lay asleep in the cave near a great fire. Wind talker sat near the entrance awaiting the sign of Blackhearts arrival. Then it appeared, a small light that came from nowhere. It seemed to hover above the ground. Growing brighter and brighter until it was like an explosion. It then burst and went out as quickly as it appeared..

From that point of the light came Blackheart. He was a tall, illuminate man with salt and pepper hair. He dressed in a long slit black coat with hide skinned laced pants and flowing shirt. The hides were stained in vivid colors of what Wind talker always believed to be the dress of the ancestor. All were colorful, but his outer robe, which was long and as black as his eyes. His presence filled the room with a sense of urgency it never had before.

Thank you for coming my brother. What is it that I should know? Are my people in danger? Wind talker asked grasping to shake his hand.

I have asked you here not, because of our people. What I ask of you may one day help your people, our people, to live to up to their true potential. My brother, what I ask you to do may one day our save the world. There was a sense of urgency in his eyes as he moved with great hast toward Little Voice. She lay sleeping and unaware. His salt and pepper hair blew from his face as if the wind caught. He stared for a moment, turning his attention back toward Windtalker as quickly as he did to Little Voice.

What is it that you ask great one?- Windtalker asked wanting to know what he would be charged to do.

Blackheart sensing Wind talker fear worked quickly with care not to scare him. For this to work, he must convince him to take the Spiritus willingly. It is true that Wind talker is a descendant of Blackheart, but it goes much farther than Windtalker would ever know. For right now, the less said the better. It was time to send Windtalker on his path and save his family for the future.

You have been unable to bear a child Windtalker. This affords your mate much pain. Am I right? -Blackheart said with a knowing expression.

Yes, she is sad. But, I love her. She should have a child. And I am at a loss to make it so. Wind talker.

That's why I am here. Over the years, our people will know a great loss. And there will be nothing in your power that can stop this. For this my brother, I am sorry. However, I need you to teach your way to your child. No matter how long it will take you will raise your child. She is the only hope for our people. You must guide her. Blackheart said.

And with one great splay of his arms he produced a ball of light that he held in his right hand. He looked at it for a few moments with a slight hint of sorrow. Then as quickly as he produced the light, he guided it in the mid-air to rest above Little Voice.

She will be strong, love her well. he said. Then with another splay, of his hand the light hit Little Voice. Although she never awoke, her body slightly trembled from the connection. She now glowed with the brightest illumination ever seen.

Wind talker ran to his mate who now radiated brighter than the stars.

What have you done great one? Windtalker asked with fear in his voice.

You are with a child. he replied.

But, she is not from me, how will I teach her?Windtalker asked worried.

She is from you, because you are from me. Go lay with your mate tonight. I assure you she will be your child. he said.

Why ? -was all Windtalker could say.

You have been chosen. Blackheart said and disappeared into the same ball of light in which he came.

Moments later Blackheart re-appeared watching Windtalker as he held his mate, invisible to the world around him.

I am sorry, but this is the only way. They chase us now. Earth is your only salvation .One day children. .. one day...Keep her safe... with that a flash of fire hits him from behind. His eyes turned blood red and he disappears..

To a better life

Six months or so earlier…

The humid night air whirled through my downed car windows. Which made it just slightly cooler than having them rolled up I didn't have any air conditioner working in my car just yet, but I was not going to let that bother me. I'm on my way, to a new life... the sooner the better..

Jean insisted on staying with Joe, so I had to insist upon leaving early for grad school. Joe was one ...just one wise crack away from me crushing his windpipe .Stepfather or not.

All those martial arts classes and self-defense lessons my mom had indulged me with over the years. Were now seen for what they really were protection, assurance rather that I wouldn't suffer the same fate as she did. No man would ever abuse me. Not without a fight, a damn good one. I know it's weird for me to refer to my mother as Jean. I've never done that to her face. It's just that even though we have some similarities.. We are so different. She was so calm, forgiving... normal. I simply ... am not...

She once told me that she would leave when the time was right. I love her dearly, but I struggle to see her out dated logic on relationships. Not that my logic was any better. However, physical abuse would never be my problem. Mental abuse. ... that maybe another story. Mostly, self-inflicted, I assure you. Relationships aside these weren't the only differences. I've kept a secret from everyone for as I can remember. Simply put... I'm different...

I really don't know what I am or what classification I'd fall under.

I see dead people... But that's not all .... Before I was five I thought I could fly and be two places at one time. Later I realized that was an astral projection.

Sometimes when I talk to people and look into their eyes I can see what they've done or will do. I know it sounds crazy. And It would be if it weren't all true. Although the last hat trick would be great when meeting a future beau. Ha! If I had any control over it when comes to my life.

Boys... Well... Boys are my preferred company. Not just for the obvious reasons, mainly cause the majority of guys are above social games. For the most part, they say what they mean, and mean what they say. I guess I'm also sort of a tomboy.

Seeing a persons true intentions are blessing and a curse. I hate seeing girls. Most of them I meet have a sweet southern dole, but secretly would cut your throat for a job or a man. I've seen it too many times, and it gets old. That's why having the option, I'm rooming with guys this year. Three totally unavailable, unapproachable hard bodies, Dylan a golden locked god, Adam an unidentified Asian islander, a Jake a red haired farmer boy/playboy from Kentucky. It was like window shopping at Abercrombie & Fitch.

Anyway like I was saying, I was on my way to the coast. The hypnotic curves of the country road always mellowed me. The road is now completely dark. Lit only by, the whirling lights of moving cars. Every mile brought me closer to the coast. I couldn't wait for the boys the see my car.

My 74' Chevy Nova was nearly completely restored. It is my pride and joy. A graduation gift to myself, I worked my whole college career paying for it and restoring it to its former glory. Maybe I watched too many Dukes of Hazzard reruns, but there really is something to be said about a muscle car from yester year. I often break the speed limit by ten miles or so on a regular basis. So it was a good thing I could sense a cop a mile away. There was one somewhere in the coming distance. Even so, it was hard for me to slow down. Particularly, because everything, I owned and valued not currently at the beach was in my car balanced insufficiently on the back seat. Stopping too quickly could cause books and even the suitcase to fall on more fragile objects placed in the floor boards of the back seat. In addition, because the car ran so smooth that the speed was addicting.

You must stop! Don't pass the next rest stop! the voice in my head rang out.

Okay! Okay! You're right, the cop! I thought.

Oh one last thing I forgot to mention I hear voices. And you can guess why I've never told anyone that. Having someone to share this with would be cool if it weren't for the prospect of ending up into a padded cell eating Jell-O for the rest of my life. My real father was probably nuts too I thought.

The rest stop was actually a gas station, not a Modern one though. The pumps were antiques probably the first ever made. The station itself looked like an old red barn that's paint had been

long since faded and cracked. A faded ad for white swan flour depicted two cherubs like boys one white and one colored. Both with floured hands prints on their face sitting on a sag of flour. Only the little white cherub had a cake .And the black one was grinning with nothing to show for it. As I pumped my gas, I looked at the grinning boy. I couldn't help but wonder if he knew what an injustice was being done to him. Not only was he the darkest shade of brown I'd ever seen, his lips were red on top of that. The other kid was eating. Where was his cake?

As my mind wandered, I failed to realize my tank was nearly full. So when the gas gushed out and covered my sneakers I was pissed. They were my favorite. I couldn't save them without bagging them and putting them in my trunk. I debated it for a moment, but decided the smell won't be worth it. So I regrettable took them off along with socks and trashed them in the metal drum, they used as a trash can near for pumps. The gravel under my feet was anything but pleasant, so I jumped into the driver’s seat and reached over into the back to retrieve the only pair of shoes that weren't packed away. My red glittery Dorothy shoes with the platform heel. They were an indulgence for Halloween.

As I secured the last clasp, I heard a loud hollow drumming. Standing in the opening of the door was a wrinkly tobacco stained man who in all appearances seemed to be the attendant, and I'm guessing the owner.

Caught you! You were trying to run oft without paying, aren't ya? growled the old man.

No, I spilled gas on my shoes and had to put on new ones. Sir- I plead.

I called him sir not because he startled me, or because I was afraid of being in trouble. That was not the reason. The reason was, I was sure was all the ninety if a day, and elderly respect goes a long way in these parts.

Yeah! Then where's you gassy shoes. -he barked again.

They're in the trash behind you. chimed a stranger. I saw her spill the gas as she says.

The old man having to see for himself looked into the bin behind him. Satisfied he barked, You can pay inside. and retreated through the barn doors.

I retrieved my bag and quickly glanced at the stranger who came to my defense. He looked like a coastal Indian. I was a little surprised. I knew they were tribes near, but in all my years traveling to Ocean Isles, I'd never seen one. He was well... stunning. His hair was long shiny all black, but one silvery white patch framing the right side of his face. He had a squared jaw, but a soft expression on his face.

Entering the barn I was surprised to see, unlike the outside the inside was as modern as any place else. Rows littered with chips, candy and over-priced oil and antifreeze for those desperate enough to pay for them There was even a wall freezer with beer, pops and juice. I made my way to the freezer and withdrew a green tea before going to the counter to pay.

As I paid, I could now