Possession

By Jennifer Watts

With her ex-boyfriend Luca kidnapped and the supernatural Council breathing down her neck Lily finds herself en route to Venice to meet with the all-powerful Pontiffs of the Synod. She’s stronger now having fully embraced her role as fairy Princess, but that doesn’t stop her Nephilim best-friend Rowan from tagging along. They soon find themselves in a race against the clock to rescue her first love while at the same time trying to prevent an all-out war. With the races in chaos and the forces of evil hot on their heels they are forced to operate under the radar to accomplish their mission, that is, until a chance encounter with a demon changes Lily in ways that she can’t easily explain. Add to it that three is most definitely a crowd and the impromptu road trip quickly gets complicated. Between Rowan wearing his heart on his sleeve and Luca’s hot and cold behavior Lily is more confused than ever before. And as their patience wears thin it’s not long before they are giving her an ultimatum; choose now or lose them both, leaving Lily to consider for the first time a life without the complications of love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jennifer Watts
• Release date: Nov 18, 2013
• ISBN: 9781310153693

Jennifer Watts

Jennifer Watts was born in Vancouver and attended the University of British Columbia, graduating with a degree in English and Creative Writing in 2002. Jennifer has been working in finance for over 10 years and by day makes her living as a Bank Manager.Jennifer currently lives in Surrey, BC with her husband, two children and two dogs.

Book preview

Possession: (Ex Nihilo Academy Book 2)

Jennifer Watts

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 Jennifer Watts

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval systems without prior written permission of the author except where permitted by law.

Ebook formatting by www.ebooklaunch.com

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Contents

Dedication

Chapter 1 - Home Before Dark

Chapter 2 - The Fire Inside

Chapter 3- Leaving on a Jet Plane

Chapter 4 - Venice is Sinking

Chapter 5 - Original of the Species

Chapter 6 - 99 Problems

Chapter 7 - Run to the Hills

Chapter 8 - Who says Necromancy is Dead?

Chapter 9 - More Than a Feeling

Chapter 10 - Hostel Environment

Chapter 11 - Coming Undone

Chapter 12 - Enter Sandman

Chapter 13 - Darkness into Light

Chapter 14 - Calling All Angels

Chapter 15 - Of Monsters and Men

Chapter 16 - Appetite for Destruction

Chapter 17 — Avenged Sevenfold

Chapter 18 - Pillow Talk

Chapter 19 - Up in the Air

Chapter 20 - Another Brick in the Wall

Acknowledgements

For my husband Thorsten. To me you're supernatural.

Chapter 1 - Home Before Dark

I'm sitting in a pub in Belfast watching my best friend Rowan's band 'The Fallen Ones' play for the growing crowd. Their usual gigs are in small country towns like the one I’m currently living in but this is their first show in the city. And with Christmas approaching the atmosphere is festive with a large evergreen tree in the corner and a string of coloured lights decorating the bar. I've parked myself in a cozy chair by the hearth to sit and drink my chamomile tea while I watch the action. I know that I shouldn't be here right now; I should be home packing for Italy but Rowan made me come with him. He said I needed to take my mind off my ex-boyfriend Luca. I am leaving for Venice tomorrow on official business and Rowan is tagging along. It feels like I've been waiting weeks for this trip to happen but in actuality it's only been days since I received the anonymous package letting me know that Luca had been kidnapped. Now every time I close my eyes all I can see is that photo of him bloodied and tied to a chair. I can't stop thinking about him and wondering if he's still alive.

I take another sip of my tea and stare out at the rain that's tapping heavily against the windows of the pub. Due to the cold weather I'm wearing an oversized off the shoulder sweater, leggings and ankle boots. When I first moved to Strangford Northern Ireland four months ago I initially missed the tank tops and shorts that come standard with the California sunshine but the Irish landscape is starting to grow on me. I'm finding that I love the crispness of the morning air and the low lying fog that blankets everything.

I glance back at the band to see that they've attracted a surprisingly large crowd and I can't help but roll my eyes at the disproportionate number of girls surrounding the stage. Not that I can blame them; Rowan's deep, heady voice combined with his six foot five stature and his full sleeve of inky black tattoos is a lethal combination that's hard to miss. He closes his eyes as he leans into the microphone and I take the opportunity to study him. He's wearing distressed jeans and a Clash t-shirt under a fitted vest paired with converse shoes. His wild auburn hair is artfully messy and the dusting of freckles across his nose is more visible under the glaring white lights. He's belting out a punk cover of 'Sweet Child O' Mine' and the girls are literally swooning. Gag me.

When he hits a high note his navy blue eyes find mine and I flush in response. It's been less than forty eight hours since he told me how he feels about me - not that time has made things any less awkward. The bassist, Charles, glares at me from his spot on stage not bothering to hide his distaste. He thinks that I'm bad news for Rowan and he's probably right. My eyes travel over the rest of the band. There are three of them in addition to Rowan: Charles, Danny and Tom. They all look like they’re in their twenties and are massively tall and thickly-muscled. But what’s oddest about the appearance of the others are the similarities between the three of them; they could easily be twins with their pale blond hair and light coloured eyes. At first Rowan told me they were brothers and it wasn't exactly a lie - more of an omission of truth that became apparent when I learned that they are all half-angels and members of the dwindling Nephilim race. Hence the clever band name.

When they finish their set Rowan hops off stage and pushes his way through the throng of girls to collapse in the chair beside me.

You can't ignore your fans, rock star. I say teasingly, gesturing to the deflated-looking group he just passed.

But you're my number one fan. He responds with a crooked smile and leans over to kiss my forehead. I hand him a bottle of water from my bag and he gulps down the whole thing without coming up for air. Sweat glistens on his brow and he smells like musky boy, with his usual undertones of mint and grass. A younger-looking girl approaches and asks him to sign the door flyer and I swear that she almost faints with the smile he gives her. Her cheeks turn bright red and she clasps the signed piece of paper against her chest as she wanders away.

You really shouldn't do that to the opposite sex. It's hardly fair, I say and he laughs.

I don't have a clue what you mean woman but I've learned that life isn't all that fair.

I briefly close my eyes and let his voice wash over me. No matter how many times I hear his smooth Irish accent it never gets old. And while there's humour in his voice I know that he means what he says given that he lost his father in the manor fire only weeks ago.

You really don't have to come with me, Rowan. The meeting with the Council is only one day and once I find Luca we will be back before you know it. I say, probably for the tenth time since he told me he'd be coming along.

This isn't up for negotiation. It's likely that I know more about supernatural's than you do and I don't trust them. You need my protection. His tone leaves no room for argument so I cross my arms over my chest and stare out the window instead.

You're adorable when you pout, love. He adds, tugging on my elbow.

The Council of Five is a group of leaders that governs the supernatural community and has a representative from each of the supernatural races of trolls, witches, wolves, fairies and vampires. Each seat carries with it a long history and tradition and ascension to that throne is hereditary and can only be taken by someone sharing the same bloodline. I am the last remaining in the Hughes fairy line and the heir to the throne. At first I was told that we were totally self-governing but I learned, like so much else in politics, that was only a half-truth. Above the Council there is a group of Pontiffs that make up the Synod, which is basically like the Senate, and we ultimately answer to them. The reason that they never come up is that they usually don’t interfere so it's kind of like they don't exist. Apparently being called before them is unprecedented and is something that hasn't happened for the last few hundred years. But a lot has been happening within the races and there is dissention and fear brewing, so our group is the first in a long time to get to meet these ancient's face to face. Lucky me.

Despite the anxiousness that I feel deep down inside I know that I can face whatever's coming head on. My power has grown significantly over the past few months and I'm about to tell Rowan this when the drummer, Tom, squeezes in between us.

Did ye enjoy the show, lass? Tom is wearing his usual uniform of military-style pants and t-shirt that's two sizes too small. He leans over to give me a peck on the cheek and I can smell the whiskey on his breath. He's Scottish and his accent is so thick that I can barely understand what he's saying half of the time.

The show was great. You guys sounded perfect. I answer, dodging his kiss. Tom is definitely the most touchy-feely of the group but I know he doesn't mean anything by it. And by the way he's winking at the ladies surrounding the table I'm sure he won't be going home alone tonight. Rowan clears his throat and stands.

I should get you back. We have an early start tomorrow. He pushes away from the table and I follow suit, bending over to pick up my purse off the ground.

I'll see ye soon, lass. Tom says as he smacks me hard on the butt. My cheeks heat as I whirl around to face him but before I can say anything Rowan grabs him and twists his arm, slamming him face first into the table.

Don't touch her. He says his voice deadly calm.

Come oan, get aff! Ye aff yer heid? I canna help it! That arse is one of my favourite views. Tom adds and Rowan twists his arm even harder making him yelp.

Shut up, Tom. He says more harshly before releasing him. Tom stands and rubs at his forearm.

Christ ye got it bad, man.

Charles steps into view and places a hand on Tom's shoulder.

I don't understand why you're doing this. We need you here and one less vampire in the world is a good thing, remember? The bassist says, his eyes never leaving Rowan's face. They stare hard at each other as something unspoken passes between them.

Ah ya wee bastart, she's a nice piece I'll give ye that but goin' around doing her dirty work? Tom says gruffly.

Stop. Talking. Rowan says through clenched teeth and one of the other band members, Danny, quickly pulls Tom away to distract him with one of the female fans. We silently watch them go and then Charles speaks again.

We may have a temporary truce with some of the supernatural races but part of that truce is maintaining a respectful distance and minding our own business. They keep to the shadows and keep from killing human beings and we leave them alone. What part of that is unclear? Charles says his tone patronizing.

No part of it is unclear. This isn't about the Council; I'm helping out a friend and I will keep my distance and ensure that my actions do not compromise our objectives in any way. This isn't about the band. He says, grabbing my hand and tugging me toward the exit. Let's go, Lily.

I’m a little stunned as I follow him out so I don't look back when I hear Charles shouting after us.

You'd be wise to remember who your real family is, Savage.

It's the last thing I hear as the pub door swings shut behind us. We walk to his father's beat up old pick-up truck that somehow managed to survive the fire and climb in. Despite the rusted out body and rumbling engine it's a beast that just won't quit.

You don't have to choose sides, Rowan. Please don't let me come between you and your band. I beg, pulling my sweater down over my freezing hands because the heater in the truck is on the fritz.

You're not. You won't. This is something that's between Charles and I and it's been brewing for a long time. Don't worry your head about it. He says, turning his attention back to the road. He's quiet for the rest of the ride and when we enter Strangford he takes me to the ferry dock because that's as far as he's allowed to go. The ferry to the island that Ex Nihilo Academy is located on will need to make up the rest of the journey. I lean over to hug him and he pulls me into a tight embrace. Promise me you'll be careful tomorrow. He says, his voice gruff and I manage to nod.

Safe travels to you too. I'll meet you in Venice? I add, pulling back to look at him.

See you in Venice. He says with a smile but I notice that it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

I hop out and walk up the slipway turning to wave at the truck as it rumbles off into the distance.

Chapter 2 - The Fire Inside

The interior of the airplane is sleek and modern and decorated top to bottom in beige and cream tones. Dad is perched on one of the leather swivel chairs while mom reclines on the matching sofa. I know we couldn't bring her this time but we shouldn't have left her on her birthday. Mom sighs, glancing up from the tablet that's resting in her lap. She's sixteen now, Alura. She'll understand it all soon enough. Dad replies. I know. I only wish we could keep her young a little longer and let her stay in California with her friends. Her frown deepens, revealing the crinkles at the corners of her mouth; the one small flaw that betrays her otherwise youthful appearance. Dad slips off his wire framed glasses and folds them into his breast pocket. I wish for that too but you know it's not that simple. The work that we do is important and it will become important to Lily once she understands. When the time comes I am confident that she will rise to the occasion. She is a lot more like her mother than you think. He leans forward and takes her hand in his, effectively closing the distance between them. Am I making the right decision? Mom says sadly, staring over his shoulder out the window of the plane. Dad bends his head and kisses each of her fingers slowly. You are making the right decision this time just as you have each time before it. It is in our nature to be on the side of good. Now put that abhorrent electronic device away and let's enjoy what remains of this flight. They stare at each other in that nauseating way they often do; like they are the only two people on the planet. When Mom moves in for a kiss the plane starts to shake violently and a high-pitched squealing noise startles them apart. It is the horrible sound of metal tearing away from metal as the tail of the plane rips off. The masks fall from the ceiling with the rapid depressurization and mom is thrown off the sofa into the air. She catches herself on the frame of the cabin door, the door itself having blown off from the force of the wind and her grip is the only thing that is keeping her from being sucked out. Dad struggles with his seatbelt but after a few seconds seems to change his mind and he begins chanting something in Latin instead. Salva nos! Terra! Aerius! Ignuis! Aqua! He shouts frantically. It's too late for that, Ayfred! We are too high up and the air is too strong! Mom shouts as her hold on the door frame slips. I love you! She yells over the rush of air and their eyes meet just as her fingers release. What remains of the plane spirals downward as mom hurls away from it head over feet, quickly becoming nothing more than a spec on the horizon. The nose of the jet is rimmed in fire and spinning wildly out of control and Dad is still belted into his seat. Lily! He screams as the plane continues to speed nose first toward the ocean trailing a column of thick black smoke after it.

I can't believe I'm still having it. It's the same dream every time and every time I wake up screaming with my forehead beaded in sweat while my breath comes out in short gasps. As I clutch my pillow to my chest and look around my room the tightness in my throat starts to release and I remind myself that I'm safe here. For now. And even though the rational part of my brain knows that it's not my fault and there's nothing I could've done to save them it doesn't change the fact that my parents are dead. When the vision first came I assumed that like most plane crashes it was an accident — but I know better now. Someone killed them and I plan to find out exactly who that someone is and to make them pay for it.

My phone vibrates and I take a few steadying breaths before rolling over to grab it from the side table. It's a text from Zaros, a fellow Council member and leader of troll race, reminding me that a car will be at the village dock at eight in the morning to take us to the airstrip in Belfast but first I have a mandatory training session with my private coach in the gym. I toss the phone back down and cover my head with my pillow just in time to hear it ring. I snatch it up off the table and press it to my ear.

Jeez Zaros, I'm up! Chill out. I snap.

I am chill and who's Zaros? Is he like a foreign exchange student or something?

I immediately recognize the voice and the words catch in my throat.

Anna? I say finally, wiping the sleep from my eyes.

Yeah, it's me. She answers back.

Anna is my so-called best friend from California who I haven't heard from for almost four months.

I don't even know what to say. And the truth is I don't. She is the last person I expected to hear from this morning.

Yeah, I know. I suck. She sighs before she continues. So how's life in Ireland? She says with forced lightness.

Northern Ireland. I correct her.

Is that different?

What do you want Anna?

Give me a break, Lils. I get that I'm a shitty friend. I just...I've never known anyone who died before. I guess I didn't know what to do with that.

I don't know, maybe try being there for me? I snap back.

My mom's psychotherapist says it was a classic case of avoidance. She says seriously and I laugh.

You're seeing your mom's shrink now?

Anna's mom received a huge divorce settlement from husband number three, some old guy who directs TV commercials for a living, and to keep herself busy she indulges in therapy. And as a rich, bored Orange-County socialite who's had more life coaches that I can count she was always the first to give us advice.

I know right? Mom thinks that as a beautiful woman I should develop more coping strategies to deal with things that are ugly. She recites and I snort, rolling my eyes even though I know she can't see me.

Sounds like your mom. An awkward silence follows until she finally speaks.

What's your school like?

It's good. Different. I say. And by different I mean finding out that I'm not human and that the school I'm attending is a secret academy for supernaturals. Yeah, that kind of different.

Have you met anyone cool? She probes further and it becomes clear to me that she's not going to give up on this conversation.

Actually I have. A few people. What about you? Have you been to Windandsea much? I ask her about my favourite beach because some of my best memories are of being there with her.

Naw...only a handful of times since you left. You know how it is; you were always more about the surf and I was about the scenery.

By scenery she means the male eye-candy hitting the waves.

True.

Well, anyway, I miss you and I was thinking you could come and visit? You are welcome to stay with us. Mom even said that I could fly you out, you know, as my way of saying sorry. Her voice takes on that whiny, pleading tone that I find so hard to say no to and at this rate I know she'll wear me down.

Sure, Anna, maybe. I miss La Jolla. I say, noncommittally. The truth is that I miss her but I'm not ready to give her that yet.

Met any hot guys? She asks, quickly switching gears to one of her favorite topics.

There is this one guy... I trail off and she shrieks a high pitched shriek into the phone.

No way, Lils! You have to tell me! Is he hotter than Tim? She's talking about my ex Tim, if you can even call him that, since I only went on a handful of dates with him.

He makes Tim look like Quasimodo but it's complicated.

What's his name? She says excitedly.

Luca.

Ooh an Italian guy. When she gets all giggly and girlish like this I sometimes wonder how it is that her and I became such good friends but then remind myself that behind the ditzy, boy-crazy facade is a really