Timekeeper Rising

By Allyssa Painter

Fifty years ago, the sky cried acid and the earth vomited poison, all due to human destruction. Desperate for a savior, the people called out to the Shunned, a group of Fallen angels on Earth, and allowed them to take over. Now the Shunned rule with unspeakable cruelty, manipulating and torturing the humans in every possible way.

Marked for death, Iris Ankea will do anything to end their tyranny and rescue her brother and best friend from their clutches. When she learns that she is God’s chosen Timekeeper and has the power to defeat the Shunned, she sets out with the only man who can help her, the one she thinks just might kill her. With a prophecy about her drawing ever near, Iris must race against time to discover her powers before the world, and her life, end. Can Iris force herself to embrace her role and sacrifice herself to save everyone she loves, or will she lose it all?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Allyssa Painter
• Release date: Aug 1, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310571176

Allyssa Painter

Allyssa Painter currently resides in Charleston, West Virginia when she is not attending Concord University, where she majors in Elementary and Special Education. In her spare time, she loves to visit with her chaotic family, explore exciting places in novels, and create new worlds in her writing.

Book preview

Timekeeper Rising

The Timekeeper Duo – Book 1

Allyssa Painter

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2015, Allyssa Painter.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Special Credit: Cover Design – Jaren Painter

To all the angels in my life, but mostly to my parents Chet and Karin, my husband Jaren, and my mentor Jennifer. There wouldn’t be a book without you.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter One

Sixteen year old Iris Lucinda Ankea collapsed to the ground in the middle of her living room, a hand to her head. A vision seared into her mind, sickening her. Her eyes roamed, but did not see the feet of her sister before her. Instead, they watched herself, a few weeks older than she currently was, standing on a battlefield. Around her, angels and demons flew, clashing in the sky, and dropping down from it onto unsuspecting victims. People surrounded her, many falling dead at her feet. She shot anyone who came near her or the men and women around her. She wanted to protect them, more than anything, especially a young man with dark brown hair and odd golden eyes, and a young girl that couldn’t be much more than eleven. Iris fought to protect them, until a woman grabbed her from behind and pressed a pistol to her head.

Back in the present, Iris gasped, shocked by the vision she’d just Seen. She had Seen visions for as long as she could remember, mostly that of her death. She had Seen a similar vision for years, one that seemed to occur only minutes after the one she had just witnessed. It was a vision of her death. She died there on that battlefield, among those men and women that present-day Iris did not even recognize for the most part, but that future Iris would, and apparently did, die to protect.

The idea of dying, especially in only weeks, terrified Iris. She pushed herself off the beige floor, still lightheaded and aching all over, shaking. She glanced at her mother, father, and twin sister. They stared at her in shock. She had collapsed in front of them from a vision before, but rarely. Before they could question her about it, the lights in the house flickered. The hum of voices on the radio dissipated.

Again, the light wavered in the ceiling fan. Iris ran to the window as the light finally flashed out for good. She watched as the lights in the surrounding houses blinked out, one by one. Her sister joined her by the window. Together they watched as some unknown force snuffed out the very last light in the neighborhood. A moment passed. The lights snapped on. All except one. The last house on the street. Iris’s sister turned to their mother while Iris continued staring out the window at the lonely, dark house. The Dawson’s. Better go pick some flowers, Ma. I'll get the linens.

Their mother and father stood. Very good, Lily. Hurry on then. I'll go gather my tools. Their father walked through the house, out of the living room. He stopped at the door to the garage. His eyes traveled to the window, where Iris still stood, staring at the house on the edge of the street. Light had returned to the house, but still one could spot the darkness lingering in some unexplainable way. Iris? Iris, go change. Go make yourself presentable. She did not stir. Iris!

The dark-haired girl jumped. She turned to her father and nodded. Her lavender eyes, so light and strange, always incredibly beautiful, had acquired a haunted, sorrowful, knowledgeable glint. Simply by staring into her eyes at that precise moment, one would suspect her wiser than her sixteen years. I failed, she murmured to herself as she climbed the stairs Lily had already pulled down. Iris lived in the attic, as did the linens.

Remaining silent, Iris sifted through her box of meager possessions. She kept little, allowing her twin sister whatever she wanted of the rest and donating anything Lily didn’t want to the poor. Hand catching on a sheet of parchment, Iris gently lifted out a faded drawing. It was done by a gifted hand, that of her best friend, Danny, and depicted a girl of ten who looked remarkably like Iris, standing next to an older boy, her brother, Zander. It was her most treasured possession, but one that the rest of her family hated and wished destroyed. She kept it hidden to protect it, but she couldn’t resist its pull, knowing what that lack of light at the end of the road meant.

Iris sighed, dropping the drawing back into its hiding place, and shimmied out of her jeans and T-shirt before allowing a silky black dress to slide over her head. Finished dressing, she crawled under the bed and pulled out something wrapped in fabric with a string tied around it. Tears pooled in her eyes, but they didn't fall. She stood with the package in her arms and walked downstairs, the bottom of the dress sweeping across her legs. She said nothing as she joined her family in the living room, and together they crossed the street. She stared as avidly at the house they approached as she had when she'd stood at the window.

The building itself could have attracted her attention were she new to the town. An antique-style, two-story lilac building, it sat at the end of the road behind a large well-kept yard. A small stone fountain adorned with butterflies sat in the yard a foot or two to the left of the door, about five feet from the wall. Brilliant flowers grew in a flower bed trimming the house, marking itself as belonging to this time, to a present much better than the pockmarked past. Iris had always adored this house. In her mind, she could see her own house—dark, dilapidated, and depressing—professing itself as a house before the Shunned, withered and scarred by the acid, poison, and despair of the Dark Years. She loathed her house and had, as a young preteen, spent as much time at the Dawson house as she could, more often than not spending the night there instead of her own. She adored the house and it fascinated her, but more, she simply loved its inhabitants.

Iris, hurry up! her mother snapped. Iris sped up half a step. She still could not tear her eyes from the house. In the topmost window, a figure stood staring out at the street. Iris couldn't make out a face, but she knew who stood there. The figure waved slightly, just a hand blurring once, and then stepped away. The light in that room only just lit it for the moment, creating a dim, disheartening image. Iris looked away, to the door she now stood before. She briefly closed her eyes before looking back on the street as her mother rapped loudly on the door a single time. The woman held the flowers, her elder daughter, Lily, clutching the funeral blanket she'd chosen; her husband gripping his toolbox and some two by fours; her younger daughter, Iris, pressing some parcel to her chest. Iris’s mother shook her head. The door opened and Iris's eyes snapped up to the person at the door.

The young girl, just short of seventeen, crumbled under the woman's glance. The woman took in the family of four. Each of them had brown hair, but Iris’s hair bordered on black, strikingly darker than that of her family. The woman’s eyes stopped on Iris and softened.

Come in, she said, talking mostly to Iris. She caught the look in the girl's eyes and the pain that flooded her features the moment the door opened.

The woman, to her credit, possessed great beauty with fair skin and blue eyes. Her blond hair mixed with strands of gray. Red puffiness rimmed her beautiful light blue eyes and black mascara covered her cheeks. The glint in her eyes felt welcoming, but strained and saddened. She forced a smile that failed to hide great sorrow. She said nothing as she led them inside. Sit down if you'd like. Thank you for coming, she said finally, before silently walking away.

Iris's family sat, but she did not. She ran after the woman. Mrs. Dawson, she said. She crushed the parcel to her chest without another word.

Mrs. Dawson smiled down at Iris, wiping a tear away. Iris, honey, you know I prefer Suzanne. That hasn't changed. She paused a moment. You know, don't you? Iris nodded. Come in he— She stopped. The lights flickered, then snuffed out. A moment later, they returned. Mrs. Dawson and Iris walked to the window. The Cramers, a woman quietly informed. Suzanne Dawson breathed deeply, nodding. Thanks for stopping by, Shannon. You'd better head on over. Please offer them my sympathy and support. Tell them I'll be over as soon as I can.

The woman, Shannon, nodded. You're sure you don't want to talk? she asked, clearly aching for one simple name, the name of the member of Suzanne’s family whom had passed away. Everyone knew what it meant when the lights of the neighborhood went out. The Shunned had ensured it. It was fitting, really, that a family spent the first few minutes of their family member’s death in darkness. Iris looked away to hide her scorn for the town gossip.

I'm sure, Suzanne answered firmly. Shannon nodded and left. The rest of the neighbors followed. The Ankeas stood and joined Iris in the parlor. Let's go pay our condolences, Iris. I'm so sorry for your loss, Suzanne, Mrs. Ankea said.

Suzanne nodded. Iris did not. I think I should stay here for a while, she replied softly. Mrs. Ankea's eyes widened. Iris rarely disobeyed her mother blatantly. More often, she quietly disobeyed her in a way the woman usually did not notice, reading banned books, writing letters to her sister-in-law, and, worst of all, sneaking out to do all manners of things her mother would disprove of. She could accomplish this easily, had become an old pro at it long ago. Rarely, though, did she flat out challenge her mother.

Iris’s father gripped her wrist. I think you should come with us, he said.

Iris ripped her wrist away. I think I ought to stay.

Her mother persisted. You'll come or you'll find somewhere else to live.

Iris smiled grimly. Lacey! Suzanne said.

Iris just rolled her eyes. She stared her mother down. I'll have my things out within the hour, she said. She'd never intended to stay much longer anyway. Now she hardly had a reason to.

Lacey Ankea gasped. Lily grinned. Andrew Ankea, Iris’s father, simply stared at his daughter. Iris walked away from her parents, her twin, the only family she really had left, without a glance back. She hated to do it, loved them despite their flaws, but they were not like her or her brother, and they would never understand what her future held anyway. Suzanne shut the door a moment later. You'll stay here, she told Iris. Iris simply shrugged. All right, I guess it's time, the woman added, sighing.

Suzanne led her up a flight of dimly lit stairs to the second floor. Iris closed her eyes against the pain of recognition as her feet tread the well-worn path to a bedroom. Suzanne stifled a sob as she pushed open a door. Iris forced herself to follow the woman inside. She pressed her eyelids tighter against the pain the room would bring for a moment before surrendering herself to the imminent heartbreak.

Iris opened her eyes and found herself in Daniel's room. Tears filled her eyes. Daniel, her best friend, her only friend, was gone. She’d known he would be, but it didn’t stop the pain she felt. The emptiness of the room surprised her. Nay, not quite the emptiness of it. After all, trash, clothes, and books hid the floor from sight in a steady, balanced mess on the floor. No, the room lacked people, human inhabitants. Iris expected to find the family gathered there. She'd fooled herself into believing the figure she'd seen was a family member in the room. Suzanne sat on the bed, after swiping off some clothes. Iris joined her.

He's not dead, Iris. I know he's not. He's just... gone. Suzanne stared at the floor. Kassiday almost died. You know that. She... She should have died.

Iris nodded. She did know that. She also knew about Vanessa, how they had finally figured out what had been making the young girl so sick. The same day Kassiday, Danny’s little sister, was born, his other sister, Vanessa, was diagnosed with Leukemia.

Suzanne continued. Daniel was watching his sisters die. A man appeared. He... was different. His aura was a rainbow and it glowed brightly. I'd never seen anyone like him. Daniel began to plead to the man to save his sisters. They made a deal.

Suzanne paused and Iris felt sick. She was afraid she already knew how this ended, but she forced herself to ask anyway. What deal?

Daniel's life for theirs, Suzanne answered hesitantly. He gave all of the time he had left on his clock, twenty years to Kassie, sixteen to Nessie, four to Nicky. The man promised him his sisters would get a chance at life, and his younger brother a bit longer of one. Daniel agreed. He acted as if he needed to do this to redeem himself. He... she sobbed.

Iris stumbled over words. Wh... What?

Suzanne spoke through broken sobs. He said, 'maybe this will make up everything I put Lucinda through.'

Iris’s tears cut harshly down her cheek, the salt of the drops irritating her skin. Danny had always refused to call her Iris, had always called her by her middle name, Lucinda, instead. Danny was one of only two people Iris allowed to call her by her middle name.

Suzanne continued. I guess he had a few days left. Kassiday was born two days ago. The man must have given Daniel two days to say good-bye, or something. I don’t know. He, he was just here with me one moment, talking and rocking Kassie. And then he was gone. He was standing right there beside me, close enough for me to catch Kassie when he disappeared. I tried to find him, but the lights flashed before I could. I knew it then. He'd held up to his end of the deal.

Iris blinked away tears. It's happened again. They're recruiting. She stood and walked out, leaving the parcel she had so tightly carried abandoned on her best friend’s bed.

Chapter Two

A gale of wind ripped up a lawn chair; one of the heavy metal ones people often used for fancy picnics and cookouts, as weightlessly at it would a feather, and tossed it at the stranger who crossed the street quickly. It smashed harmlessly onto the sidewalk nearby. The dark figure wore a black trench coat pulled tightly around his or herself, an opaque, midnight tinted fedora pulled down to shade his or her eyes. The invader to the small town of Lavender Grove stepped briskly across the street and into a house, third from the end, the opposite end of the Dawson house.

The figure never knocked, simply turned the knob and stepped inside. Footsteps sounded above. The figure took no notice.

Upstairs in her room, Iris packed boxes of her things. She pried up an old floorboard, finding the books there. Her eyes landed on one in particular, a memory overtaking her. Her brother Zander had caught her reading that book one day. Reading was forbidden, but that hadn’t stopped Zander from teaching her to read. He had done it in secret, even hiding it from their parents and forbidding her to read unless her door was locked and their parents wouldn’t bother her. Their parents didn’t even know the lock on her door worked.

After practicing her reading for months, Iris had gone to Zander’s room and borrowed one of the books he kept hidden under his floorboard. In it, she had learned more about their past than she ever had before. Fifty years or more ago, acid rained down from the sky and poison seeped up from the Earth, killing thousands. Humans had caused it by polluting it for years. The acid and poison nearly destroyed the world, and the humans cried out for help. A group answered, but they were anything but a savior. They were the Shunned, a group of fallen angels, shunned by heaven and hell. When Lucifer had fallen from heaven, The Shunned had sided with him, but they had killed Charity, God’s only Timekeeper, before they fell from heaven. Charity was Lucifer’s sister, one of the only people Lucifer loved, so he shunned them from hell, as well.

When the humans cried out for help, the Shunned answered. They did stop the poison and acid, but they created even more problems. They ruled the humans with torture and oppression, taking away their technology and books, including textbooks, and murdering or kidnapping anyone who stood against them. They now controlled all aspects of human life, which is why Iris hid the book beneath her floorboards instead of sitting it on a bookshelf like people had in the past. Iris longed for those days, though she had not been alive for them. Surely they had been better than this.

A noise downstairs startled Iris and she blinked, the memory disappearing. She left the book in its place and grabbed another. She continued packing before covering the books up again with the floorboard, pressing it into place. A minute later, Iris walked down the staircase of her home with three average sized boxes. She dropped them all when she spotted the invader at the bottom of her stairs. She reached behind her. In the hour she'd been in the house, she'd changed into a purple long-sleeved t-shirt and jeans. From the back pocket of her jeans, she produced a dagger. No. You're not taking me. Most girls her age would be afraid, she thought, but her brother had trained her for this very moment.

The figure smiled. I am not who you think, a masculine voice answered. A gloved hand reached to remove the hat. Next, the gloves slid off and finally, the coat. The man left behind, young, handsome, with dark brown hair—the typical cliché of a dark, mysterious stranger—did not appear bothered by the weapon pointed toward him. His eyes, such a soft, liquid gold, shattered the cliché.

And who do I think you are? Iris asked curiously, not moving the knife.

A large grin spread over the man's face. With it, he looked barely more than a boy, twenty or so in age more than likely. I think you call them Recruiters? You think I'm one of them. You think I'm here to recruit you. We, my people, know truly who they are. They are The Shunned. They used to be angels, God's chosen people. Now, they act like they are God. People act like they are God. You treat them as such. They are demons, a parasite. They disgust me.

Iris blinked. Who are you? she asked quietly, not fearfully, just quietly. She leaned against the stair-rail. She knew about the Shunned, but she did not know about other people who disliked them. She knew of people, but not of a group of people like this man spoke of.

The man stood two feet from her, holding his hat and jacket. He gently reached out and touched the dagger blade. We can put this away, can't we? His husky voice dipped lower, probably in an attempt to sound sexy. Trying to charm her, his other hand touched her side. The moment his hand touched her, the dagger pressed into his throat. Iris's wild, strange eyes glared at him. He removed his hand from her. All right, I see. I'm sorry, he said, his voice low and stressed as he attempted not to cut himself on the dagger. Iris removed it. He breathed deeply.

Name, Iris said. The man coughed once. Iris sighed. She stood only two steps from him, close because of pressing the dagger into his throat. She stared into his eyes, voice low, but threatening. Look, today is not the day to push me. I don't like games and I'm not in a forgiving sort of mood. Give me your name and tell me why you're here or get out of my house.'

The man smiled. His eyes had lost all hints of fear. Ah, but Lucinda, my dear, this isn't quite your house any more, is it? He paused. Sage. Sage Atroxé. I swear, I did not come here to harm you.

Iris rolled her eyes. Then why are you here?

To save you, naturally. Sage grinned again. The Shunned want you. So do my people, to be honest. I belong to a group called the Lambs. Yes, I know, not very intimidating, but He is our shepherd. We try to stay with His beliefs. There are, however, two branches. One branch calls themselves the Extremists. They murder all possible recruits for the Shunned. They don't even give you a chance. They commit mass genocide. The other branch, the Pacifists, fight only when absolutely necessary. Because of this, they are less successful in preventing new recruits, but they convert a lot of members after they've joined the Shunned. The two branches quarrel with each other, but, for now, they occasionally work together against the Shunned.

Iris rapped her foot. This history lesson interested her, but it did not answer her question. So which are you? What are you saving me from? Being a recruit? Maybe I can make the decision on my own.

Sage shook his head. "It's complicated. I cannot really tell you which I am. It depends on who you ask. It's not important. The thing is, a