Domestic: Benediction Season 1, #1

By Tellers March

"I can't even eat a taco without feeling like I'm supposed to be saving the world."

Zak Guan, professional bartender and college dropout, is pretty much your standard-issue layabout...until a chance encounter with a runaway girl plunges him into a hidden world of supernatural intrigue.

Robyn Bennett is the embodiment of the poor little rich girl—a senator's daughter, an up-and-coming fashion model. Trouble is, Robyn's got a secret...one that puts her, and everyone around her, in danger. And Zak—who'd just as soon spend his free time on the couch beneath a cat, enjoying short ribs, recreational substances, and video RPGs—may be the only one who can help.

The pokey shore town of Benediction is not as wholesome as it seems. Dangers lurk in every shadow. And Zak, unbeknownst to him, is heir to a legacy; a power that's beginning to stir within him; a destiny, to do battle against otherworldly evils. To help the helpless and protect the innocent.

Will he accept the call, even if it puts his bland but comfortable life—and the lives of his screwball friends—on the line?

Benediction is a nerd-friendly, often quippy, sometimes dark urban fantasy serial intended for audiences of all genders. Episodes are novella-length at between 15,000-30,000 words. This 24,000-word episode contains a full story arc and climactic resolution, but PLEASE BE WARNED that it does end with a cliffhanger. Join the Tellers March mailing list, linked in the ebook, to receive first notice when new episodes are released.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tellers March
• Release date: Jun 23, 2016
• ISBN: 9781533767066

Book preview

Published by Tellers March

Copyright © 2016 Lou Caesar, J. M. Clearwater, Zyphira Ondatje

All rights reserved.

ROBYN SHOULDERED HER WAY BETWEEN a hairy man in a Speedo, a freckle-breasted woman in a sagging halter top, and their gaggle of screaming kids, ducking just inside the wall of a recessed storefront and leaning back against it to catch her breath. Even in just her bikini top and shorts, she was sweating a little in the summer heat, her long, dark hair clinging damply to her chest and back. There was a flush in her cheeks, a giggle bubbling up in her chest.

Had she really lost them? Her father was going to kill her—but at the moment, she didn’t care. Even a few minutes away from her handlers would be just the adventure she was yearning for. The crowd wasn’t too much bother, as long as she managed to blend in. And she’d taken her medicine like a good girl that morning … so what could possibly go wrong?

Robyn lowered her sunglasses from the top of her head to the bridge of her nose and poked her head out of her nook, scanning the boardwalk left to right to make sure Clyde and the rest weren’t nearby. It was hard to tell, what with the press of the crowd—which was what had enabled her to slip away from the goons in the first place. But as far as she could see, the coast was clear.

Robyn’s heart pounded wildly as she started forward, ducking in and out of the throng. She weaved her way quickly across the boardwalk, then scurried down the steps toward the beach. It was exhilarating, taking off on her own—like some kind of wild adventure. She’d never been to the beach alone. She could hardly wait to plunge beneath the waves.

The girl stopped short at the sight of two boardwalk police posted at the foot of the wooden stair, blocking the way onto the sand. The nearest of them, a pudgy, pale man in his twenties, eyed her inscrutably from behind his reflective shades. She could see her own distorted double-mirror-image in the lenses, blinking back at her with googly hazel eyes.

Got your beach pass, miss? he asked brusquely, though not unkindly.

Robyn glanced around and sputtered shyly. I … I must have … She made a show of patting her pockets helplessly. I must have dropped it. I’m sorry.

He shook his head. Nothin’ to be sorry about. It’s five dollars for a day pass.

Her heart sank. She never carried money. Clyde used one of her father’s credit cards to manage all her expenses. I don’t have five dollars, she murmured, disappointed. Please … I can pay you later. Or my father can. Senator Gordon Bennett—he’s my father.

The officer smirked. Be that as it may, sweetheart, I can’t let you through without a pass or five dollars up front.

He doesn’t believe me, Robyn thought. Please, she tried desperately. This may be my only chance …

The officer furrowed an eyebrow, then glanced up at something behind Robyn as a large shadow fell over them both. A strange feeling came over Robyn as another reflection joined her in those mirror-like lenses—looming, broad-shouldered, and blond.

I’ll cover the lady.

Her heart skipped a beat. It was the scent, she realized, that had taken her off guard. There was something in it she … recognized.

Robyn kept her eyes down as money exchanged hands, somehow afraid to look her benefactor in the face. The officers stepped aside and let her pass. She could feel the other still close at her side.

They moved a few paces onto the sand. Robyn turned to say her thanks, fighting an urge to break away and run without speaking at all. To take off without saying thanks would be impolite. Her father had taught her nothing if not that she must always be polite.

There were three of them, she saw now, not just the one. Young men in swim trunks with towels draped over their shoulders. Big, strong young men, sun-tanned, thick, and well-muscled.

The blond turned to the other two. Tyler. Brody. Take a hike.

The pair of them exchanged glances, shrugged, and sauntered off toward the water. Robyn followed them with her eyes, still too shy to look the blond in the face. One of them eventually pushed the other, who pushed back, then grabbed him in a head lock. The first finally broke free and took off across the sand, cackling wildly while the other chased after him, swearing and shouting and guffawing.

Don’t mind them. They’re idiots, said the blond.

Robyn kept her eyes down. Why couldn’t she bring herself to look at him? His smell was so strong it made her dizzy.

Well. She didn’t have to look at him, did she? She could just say her piece and leave. Th-thanks, she stammered out finally. There. Was that so hard? She turned away, ready to bolt.

What’s your name? he asked, stopping her in her tracks.

She hesitated, turning only halfway back toward him. Robyn, she murmured.

Robin, he echoed. Like the bird.

Not exactly, she replied.

He didn’t seem to hear. I know what you are, he said.

She looked up at him finally, sharply, the air fleeing her lungs as if he’d punched her in the chest. Cool blue eyes stared back at her from a chiseled face. How … ? she whispered, suddenly afraid.

Because, little bird, he said, moving closer and lowering his lips to her ear, I’m one too.

The roar of the waves, the din of screaming children at play—all of it faded to a dull murmur as Robyn’s heartbeat drummed in her ears. It wasn’t possible, was it? It couldn’t be true. Father had said there weren’t any others like her. The one who had made her, he’d said, had been destroyed.

You feel it, don’t you? His fingers trailed over her naked arm, sending shivers down her spine. "You smell it."

Robyn closed her eyes and breathed in deep. Her senses weren’t as good as they would have been if she hadn’t taken her medicine; yet it was unmistakable. Something primal in her just … knew.

I’m Dustin, he said.

Robyn, she mumbled back perfunctorily, her thoughts humming.

He chuckled. You told me that already.

She reddened.

So what’s your story? he asked, touching her hair. You got a family? They know?

Robyn nodded dumbly.

They like you and me?

She lowered her eyes at last and shook her head. No one’s supposed to know, she whispered, suddenly fearful. I take medicine for it.

Medicine? he echoed, an edge entering his tone. What kind of medicine?

Clyde calls it aconite. Why had she said it like that? Her new acquaintance obviously had no idea who Clyde was. Idiot.

Dustin was silent. When she looked up at him again, his expression frightened her. "Aconite is poison," he spat.

Her heart skipped a beat. I’ve been taking it for years, she protested.

Ms. Bennett!

The British-accented voice rang out, chiding, from the stair nearby.

Robyn