Extraordinary: Light vs. Dark

By Janene Murphy

Alina Nichols thinks she’s just a regular teen until she’s forced back into a world she can’t remember. Is she a Light Warrior? Can she help The Light defeat The Dark? No one is sure. If only there was more time. There isn’t. The Dark is on the move and heading straight toward them. Its fiercest soldier, Darryn, has power like no other and he’s bent on total destruction.

So who is Alina? No one wants to know more than she does. She keeps looking to others. But soon she discovers some questions in life can only be answered from within.

This is Book 1 in the Light vs. Dark series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Janene Murphy
• Release date: Dec 6, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301034994

Janene Murphy

Originally from the suburbs of Chicago, Illinois, Janene Murphy currently lives in Iowa with her husband and three kids. Her website, Moms are from Mars, reaches readers in over 160 countries.

Book preview

Prologue

Darryn was born with a head full of hair, black as the bottom of a well. His nose? Not the cute button seen on newborns but a long one with an upturn at the end. As for his chin, it was already angular with a cleft poised to deepen later. None of his features resembled that of a baby. Darryn had the look of a man.

Most striking of his features were his emerald eyes. Large and deep, they had a penetrating gaze. The doctor said his eyes could pierce a person’s soul.

That gave his parents the first clue.

In the hospital, soon after Darryn’s birth, the nurse presented him to his parents. Nestling the blanketed bundle in her arms, his mom brushed a soft finger over his cheek. Darryn responded by opening his eyes. He gave her a long, meaningful stare.

We’ve been chosen, she said.

"He’s been chosen," his father replied.

They knew the infant’s purpose. Darryn knew it, too. For the next sixteen years he studied, trained…calculated.

This story, however, isn’t about Darryn. Not yet. It’s about Alina. She was born a few minutes before Darryn in a town not too close, but not too far, away. Her eyes were not green but brown, like the bark of a tree. They seemed to hold no magic. In fact, nothing about Alina seemed special at all, inside as well as out. She was just a baby, with simple baby thoughts. She knew nothing of Darryn or his purpose. In fact, she knew nothing for a very long time.

And that, unfortunately, put Alina at a dangerous disadvantage.

sixteen years later

Chapter 1

Color mattered most to Alina. She had to get it right every time. In this case, she needed the exact orangey pink that lit up the early morning sky.

Now was her chance. Sitting on the driveway, she faced east and checked her art supplies. Her large, white canvas stretched out in front of her, glowing in the pre-dawn light. Resting by her side sat her artist’s palette, as well as paints and brushes she required. Everything on the pavement looked ready to go. All she needed was the sun.

She glanced down at her watch. Sunrise would be soon. Grabbing her iPod, she selected a song. Iron Thorns by Desolated Gates. Perfect. Who said heavy metal couldn’t inspire? Then, with her hand on her palette, she waited for the light. Soon color crept into the summer sky.

Alina had to work fast. Squeezing paints into little mounds, she started mixing colors. With the music in her ears, nothing stood between her and the sunrise—not the birds chirping, the dogs barking, or even the roar of her mother’s car.

Wait. The roar of her mother’s car?

Spinning on her hip, she turned toward the garage as the car started backing down the driveway.

Mom, stop! she yelled.

The car kept coming. Dropping her palette, she scrambled to her knees. She couldn’t escape in time. The vehicle was moving way too fast. She couldn’t get up, couldn’t run. All she could do was thrust her hand out toward the bumper and scream with all her might.

STOP!

The car jolted, halting six inches from her fingers. Her body froze in shock. What just happened? Was she alive? She didn’t know. The world around her looked so blurry…hazy.

What’d I hit? What’d I hit? Her mom rounded the corner of the bumper and shrieked. Oh, Alina!

It’s okay, Mom, she said, regaining her composure. You...you didn’t hit me.

Dropping to her knees, her mom wrapped Alina into a hug. I almost killed you!

But you didn’t. Man, her hug was tight. It’s okay. You can let go now. Really, I’m fine.

Her mom eased back on her heels. They knelt together for a while, still stunned by what had happened. Then her mom turned white. I just realized something. I…I didn’t brake.

Alina blinked. What do you mean? Of course you did.

No, I didn’t.

Her mom’s voice sounded strange, nervous. Then she did something weird. Really weird. Cupping Alina’s face, she stared deeply into her eyes. What was that about? Her mom’s gaze shifted to the bumper. Running a palm along its surface, her hand stopped right in front of Alina.

It’s hot, her mother said.

Hot?

Alina, did you touch the bumper?

No. At least I don’t think so. I put my hands out toward it but the car never got that close.

Something flashed in her mom’s eyes. We have to get inside.

Alina noticed her mom had on nursing scrubs. Don’t you have a shift at the hospital?

"Get up now!"

Seizing Alina by the wrist, her mom stood up, forcing both of them to their feet. They marched past the car, through the garage and straight through the doorway, stopping in the kitchen. With a frown, her mother pointed to a stool at the breakfast bar. Alina sat down, her mind swirling.

Alina, her mom said. I’m going to ask you a question. You have to tell me the truth.

Of course, Mom. What made her think she would lie?

Have you ever stopped or moved things without touching them?

Oh.

Now Alina understood, although things like that hadn’t happened often. In fact, she wondered if they’d happened at all. It could have been her imagination. Like the time when she was five and a tree branch fell, almost crushing her bike. As she watched the limb fall, she’d leaned over and waved her hands like a bowler willing his ball down the lane. When the tree branch moved, missing her bike, she’d fancied she’d had super powers. Later, she realized it must have just been wind. Easily explained. In fact, they all could be explained—all the silly little things that had happened to her in the past.

Except maybe two weeks ago in early June. That had been pretty odd. She’d been sitting on the deck when two bees showed up. One flew right in front of her face. Forgetting to stay still, she had panicked, bolting straight out of her chair. She’d leapt toward the door. But before her hand could touch the door knob, the door had blasted open all on its own.

Then there was two days ago. The incident still freaked her out though she hadn’t moved anything. She had, however, acted like an idiot and jammed a bread knife into the toaster. Her waffle had been stuck and she’d used her knife beforehand without trouble. Not this time, though. There had been a shock. A big one. Yet, she hadn’t dropped dead from electrocution. In fact, the electricity had felt sort of good—a fact Alina couldn’t understand. She might have told her mom had she not shorted out all the circuits in the house. Why add to the drama?

Now that she thought about it, more than a few unusual things had happened to her lately. She just hated to admit it. Something deep inside her warned her to keep quiet. But lie to her mother?

Alina cleared her throat. Sorry, Mom. I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Her mom pressed her lips together. Smoothing a light curl behind her ear, she walked over to Alina. If I said your life depended on it, would your answer change?

A chill crept up Alina’s neck. Uh…

A wave of sorrow washed across her mother’s face. Alina, how long has this been going on?

Just a little when I was younger but lately it’s been happening a lot.

Why didn’t you tell me?

I don’t know. I thought I might be imagining things, plus I know it’s tough raising two kids alone. I guess I didn’t want to worry you.

Well, I’ve been worried for a long, long time. Her mom hesitated, then a tear rolled down her cheek. We need to call your grandma.

Grandma Kate?

No. Your dad’s mom, Grandma Bea.

Grandma who? She didn’t know she had another grandma though it did make total sense. She had two parents, after all. Well, at least she used to have two. Her dad had died when she was four. As to how or why, no one had ever told her. Sure, she’d asked about what had happened to him but every time she did her mom had just cried. After enough tears, Alina had just stopped bringing it up. That is, until now.

Reaching out, she placed her hand on top of her mother’s. Does what’s going on with me have anything to do with Dad?

"It has everything to do with Dad."

What happened to him…could it happen to me?

Yes, Alina. Yes, it could.

Then her mom broke down. Sinking to the floor, she pulled her knees into her chest and started to cry. Alina whipped around the breakfast bar, dropped down and wrapped her arms around her mom. If only she could ease whatever pain her mom felt. What was going on?

Was something wrong with her? If her dad died, did that mean she’d die, too? A shudder ran through her body. For the first time, she wasn’t sure if she wanted answers about her dad. It didn’t matter. They were coming.

Chapter 2

Alina stayed in the family room, away from the front door. She didn’t know what would happen when her mother welcomed Grandma Bea into their home. That is, if her mother welcomed her. From what she’d learned, they hadn’t seen Bea in close to twelve years—right after her dad had died. She knew it couldn’t have been a good time. In fact, if she had to guess, she bet her mom had been the one who severed the ties, not the other way around.

In addition to that, meeting a grandma she didn’t know would be weird. What did the woman even look like? Was she tall? Short? Fat? Thin? What about her personality? Was her grandma nice or a cranky old hag? Alina had had no idea.

Grabbing the caramel-colored afghan, she wrapped herself up and sank into the corner of their dark brown couch. Brown, brown, brown. Just the way she liked it. With her brown hair, brown eyes—heck, even her skin looked perpetually tan—she felt like a chameleon, camouflaged by her surroundings.

Going unnoticed had many advantages though it happened more often than she liked. Still, it meant she was safe. She didn’t have to fear the judgment of her classmates or the rest of the world, for that matter.

A knock came from the door, causing her shoulders to tense. Tilting her head, she tried to listen better. Moments later she heard the front door open. Her mom was the first to speak.

Hello, Bea.

Hello, Sharon.

Hello, awkward situation. From their voices she could tell they both felt nervous.

I’m glad you came, her mom continued. Sorry it’s been so long.

It’s okay. After what happened…

Bea, it’s happening again.

Silence filled the hall. A moment later, Grandma Bea spoke. Are…are you sure? She’s sixteen years old. That’s way past the typical knowing point.

Bea, she stopped a six thousand pound Chevy Tahoe without touching it.

Grandma Bea said, Oh.

More silence prevailed.

Alina imagined them staring at each other, unsure what to say next. Then her grandma spoke again. I need to see her.

I know Bea, but I’m scared. I can’t do this again.

Sorry, Sharon. We don’t have a choice.

What if we wait a little bit? It’s gone unnoticed for so long. Nothing major has happened. No one’s even approached her…

"No one’s approached her yet. There are enemies out there. If Alina’s been chosen, she needs to start training now. It’s the only way she’ll survive."

Enemies? Chosen? Survive?

It was time to get off the couch.

Dropping the afghan to the floor, Alina rose up and tip-toed to the corner of the room. Then she peeked into the hallway, hoping to get a glimpse of her grandma before her grandma got a glimpse of her.

It didn’t work.

Alina, is that you?

Busted. Squaring her shoulders, she walked down the hall and into the foyer. There stood her grandma. A short, slight woman, she wore a periwinkle dress as well as a nervous smile. The gray bun in her hair and wire-rimmed glasses made her look sort of soft, maternal. For a grandmother she would do just fine, at least when it came to appearances. As for what she said about training and survival? That continued to be up for debate.

Come here, dear, Grandma Bea said. Let’s take a look at you. It’s been so long since I’ve last seen you.

Suddenly self-conscious, Alina spun in a circle like a five year-old showing off a party dress. Could she act any lamer?

Such a pretty girl. Her grandma beckoned her closer with a hand. Let me see your face.

Hunching down to eye-level with Grandma Bea, she saw her grandma’s expression change. With unsettling seriousness, the woman peered into Alina’s eyes. No, she stared.

Are you sure about this, Sharon? I see nothing.

I didn’t either, said her mom. But I can’t deny what happened.

Her eyes, again. What was going on? Befuddled, Alina watched as Grandma Bea tapped a finger to her lips.

If only we could be sure, her grandma said. Then she raised her finger as if saying, aha! Clutching the small purse dangling off her shoulder, she turned her back to Alina and her mom then started rustling through its contents. If you’ll just give me a minute…

A minute? It took less than a second. In a blaze of motion, the tiny woman swung around, brandishing a five-foot sword. She raised it high in the air before swinging it back down toward Alina’s head.

Three thoughts raced through Alina’s mind in rapid succession:

1. How did she pull that great, big weapon out of such a tiny purse?

2. How did she manage to get that great, big weapon over her head?

3. Oh, man! She’s trying to kill me!

Crossing her arms with lightning speed, Alina felt a surge of electricity as she thrust both palms out toward her sides with one huge sweeping motion. The sword flew out of Grandma Bea’s hands, piercing the living room wall twenty-two feet to her right.

Whoa. Did she just do that?

A warm, prickly feeling washed over her as she stood there in amazement, watching the sword wiggle up and down until it stopped. She looked back at Grandma Bea.

Well, her grandma said, matter-of-factly. It appears you do have something. We need to take you to your Uncle Raynor’s house right away.

Raynor’s house? her mom said. We will do no such thing.

Sharon, he’s the best.

He’s also a jerk.

It’s not his fault. He’s been absorbing Darkness for a long time now.

Which means he’s worse than when I knew him before. There has got to be someone else.

The two women continued bickering as Alina eased into the background.

She didn’t care about some guy named Uncle Raynor. Right now she cared about what had happened. Chucking a sword through a wall without touching it? That was the coolest thing she’d ever done! Once the thrill settled into her brain, however, she began to feel uneasy.

All the talk from before about enemies and survival sounded so ominous. If she could fling a sword without touching it but still needed training to survive, what could her enemies do?

Chapter 3

Sitting in the backseat of Grandma Bea’s car felt weird. Alina hardly knew her. The fact that her grandma had tried to kill her earlier also had a chilling effect. Though it had only been a test, visions of Grandma Bea aiming a sword at her refused to budge. As unassuming as her grandma looked, she had a feeling the woman could be frightening if need be.

Hopefully, Grandma Bea wouldn’t need to today. Just how awful was Uncle Raynor? The nervous chatter coming from the passenger seat made it clear her mom could not stand him.

Glancing to her right, she checked on her brother, Trace. His honey hair was still matted from sleep. Poor kid. He looked shell-shocked. Being woken up and told you’re going to see the uncle you never knew with the grandma you never knew could do that to a person.

Hey, she half-whispered to him. Want to thumb wrestle?

It sounded stupid but always worked. When Trace was little, she thought nothing of holding his hand or letting him sit on her lap when he needed a little extra reassurance, but the kid was twelve now. Hand-holding and lap-sitting went out a long time ago. So when she sensed he needed comfort, they thumb wrestled.

Trace slapped his palm to hers. He had quite a grip thanks to all his video gaming. I don’t get what’s going on, he whispered. Do they think you’re some kind of superhero?

I don’t know. They haven’t told me much.

Well if you are a superhero, I want to be your sidekick. Not forever, of course. Once I get my black belt or powers of my own, I’m gonna do my own thing.

Understood. I’ll make sure to put a special release clause in your contract.

He smiled. Good. What about her mom, though? Her voice sounded so strained as she spoke with Grandma Bea.

If he says anything mean or condescending…

Then you’ll deal with it, Sharon. Her grandma let out a sigh. I know you two don’t get along but try for Alina’s sake. He’s the only one who can help her.

You mean the way he helped us before? her mom said. That didn’t end so well.

It wasn’t Raynor’s fault. He did everything he could.

And he failed. He can’t fail this time.

He won’t. He’s stronger. One of the strongest.

And meanest.

The two go hand in hand. You know that.

Strong and mean? That didn’t bode well for Alina. She had always been nice—maybe too nice. Perhaps that’s why she always stayed at the bottom of the social pyramid. Not that social standing mattered to her. She didn’t want to be mean.

Would she have to be mean?

Trace pressed down on her thumb. Victory! He leaned back in his seat. So much for being a superhero, sis.

That would suit her fine. Whipping the sword out of Grandma Bea’s hands had been cool. As for what her grandma and her mom were talking about now? It didn’t sound too appealing. It also didn’t sound like her. Danger wasn’t her middle name. It was Louise. She couldn’t help but feel this was all one big misunderstanding.

Settling back into her seat, she looked out the window. They had only been traveling fifteen minutes. Yet she didn’t recognize where they were at all. It looked nothing like Hopehill, Illinois. The covered bridge they went through just a few minutes beforehand—the one that looked like a long red barn? She’d never seen it before and it was way too long and dark for her to have forgotten it. The thick woods filling in most of the landscape made her wonder if they were near some sort of forest preserve. With all of the dizzying forks and crazy turn offs along the road, it was no wonder they’d never driven around there.

As for the houses, themselves, they were too far apart to be considered a neighborhood. Big but unkempt, it looked as if no one lived in them at all. The lawns weren’t mowed. There were even rusty junk piles in the yards. Take the house coming up on the left-hand side, was that a broken down horse carriage by the garage? The whole place needed a major paint job. It looked brown, not…whatever color it was supposed to be. As for those shutters on the third story? They would look a lot better if half of them weren’t hanging askew. Thank goodness they weren’t stopping there.

The car slowed down. Oh, man. They were stopping there. How great.

Pebbles crunched beneath their tires as they drove onto the driveway. Grandma Bea parked the car. As if on cue, a gray emu came out from behind the house, loping forward on long skinny legs. It had crazy red eyes straight out of a horror film and was heading straight toward them.

Do I have to go in? Trace asked, wide-eyed.

Don’t worry, honey, Grandma Bea said. That’s Eloise. She just wants you to pet her.

And I just want to go home.

Come on, Trace, her mom said. We have to stick together. Grandma Bea’s right. Eloise is harmless.

Eloise was also six feet tall with eyes like the devil. Harmless? Maybe. Freaky? Absolutely. Alina would have preferred to stay in the car, too, but she couldn’t. They had come here because of her. She had to put on her brave face.

Let’s go, Trace. Bet I can pet it first.

Trace broke into a smile. You’re on!

Scrambling out of the car, she watched as her brother trotted over to the animal. He stroked its back. Grandma Bea was right. The bird was harmless, plus it seemed to have a crush on Trace by the way it was nuzzling his neck. Walking over to the emu she petted it, too. It was funny how some things looked scary but ended up being okay. Perhaps the same would be true of the house, as well as her Uncle Raynor.

Grandma Bea called them over to the side of the driveway. Wait a minute. Where did her sedan go?

Grandma, where’s your car?

It’s here. Her grandma said, nonchalantly. It has a cloaking device. The covered bridge triggered it. You can’t see it if you’re more than thirty feet away.

But, of course. What a simple explanation from a woman who’s just recently pulled a five foot sword from her purse.

Grandma Bea led the way toward the house’s front door. There didn’t seem to be a walkway, just an occasional flat stone that broke up the nine inch high grass. Once the four of them made it to the stoop, her grandma rang the doorbell. Surprisingly, it worked. Instead of going ding dong it chimed like a grandfather clock. Pretty classy. If the double doors hadn’t been rotting at the hinges she might have even been impressed.

They stood there and waited for a couple of minutes but no one came to the door. Grandma Bea rang again. Come on, Raynor. It’s us.

Still nothing. Then a full minute later she heard the click of a dead bolt at the door. Make that five deadbolts. Alina took a step back right as the door creaked opened.

If a hobo ever fell into a vat of growth hormones, Alina now knew what he’d look like. The man at the door was gigantic—at least 6’8"—with scraggly brown hair. He had a beard like steel wool and a body as wide as a raft. He also had no fashion sense. His eyes, though? They took her breath away. A deep blue, they were as brilliant as sapphires. Only these sapphires glowed, plus they seemed to have a red tinge around the irises. She had never seen anything like them—anything like him. He terrified her.

Heart racing, she watched as he gave everyone the once over. She feared meeting his gaze. Passing over her grandma quickly, he moved past her mom with a sneer, then eyed Trace curiously. He didn’t look long. Before she knew it, his eyes shifted to her. Her knees almost buckled as he studied her top to bottom. If looks could burn, she’d have been crispy. She had no idea what to do or say so she chose to stay silent. Moving closer, he stared into her eyes for what seemed like an eternity.

When she didn’t think she could take it any more, he stopped and took a small step back. Alina held her breath. What would her uncle say? What would he do next?

She got her answer quickly. Raynor took another two steps back and re-entered his house. Then he turned to Grandma Bea, spat out, No! and slammed the door in their faces.

Chapter 4

The shock of the door slam took a while to settle in. Alina just stood there, confused. What did Raynor mean when he said no to them? No to training her, or no to her as a person? She got the feeling he meant both.

Grandma Bea stepped back up to the door and put a hand on the knob. All right, now. Is everyone ready to go in?

Was the woman crazy? He just slammed the door.

Yes, but he didn’t lock it. That’s as close to a welcome as we’re going to get. Her grandma opened the door. Come on. Everyone in.

Alina took a deep breath then followed Grandma Bea inside. The floorboards creaked as she entered. How old was this place? At one time it must have been grand with its high ceilings, open staircase and gargantuan chandelier. But all of it was covered in either cobwebs or freakishly thick layers of dust. The parlor on the left looked like no one had entered it in over three million years. White sheets—well, dingy white sheets—covered its furniture. Stacks of mail obstructed the room’s entrance. As for the dining room located on the right? The long chestnut table would have looked a lot classier if a bunch of empty Lean Cuisine boxes weren’t piled up on top of it. What kind of person lived like this?

Grandma Bea led them down the hall to a huge, equally messy claret-colored parlor before turning right into another long hall. Soon they arrived at a room on the left. With all the bookshelves, it looked like some sort of study. It would have been brighter had the windows not been boarded up. Obviously, Raynor loved ghetto chic.

The man, himself, lay sprawled out in the middle of the room on a tattered plaid couch. A bag of chips sat on his chest and chip crumbs sat on his beard as his eyes focused