Fabled Lost

By S. L. Gavyn

“My poor, sweet beast. How broken we are apart.”

William Ford just wants his life back. He was a normal guy who took a job working as a glorified gofer at a lab, and now he is a freak who turns into an even bigger freak when he can’t control himself. Slowly, he is slipping away until he fears only the beast inside him will remain. That is when he meets Lucian Dubois. The Council of Elders leader helps William by bringing him to the strongest Fae in existence, the Bruce. Only the Bruce wants William as his champion while William wants his freedom—freedom from the Caduceus, freedom from the Fabled, and freedom from the beast within. A chance encounter with a woman will change everything he finds important because this isn’t their first meeting or their first life.

Kairi Blake is living a lie. She lives in a town where no one is real, goes to a college that is a sham, and gets monthly injections that kept the farce in place. Her primary problem is that she can’t remember anything but the lie. Help from a friend brings back the barest of memories, but it’s enough to give her direction to the only family she has.

Together Kairi and William go on the run from not only the enemy but their supposed allies as well to help reunite Kairi with her past. Little did they know that their pasts are so deeply intertwined, and only together can they save each other.

• Language: English
• Publisher: S. L. Gavyn
• Release date: Aug 31, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370248445

S. L. Gavyn

S.L. Gavyn lives in Mobile, Alabama with her husband, three children, two dogs, two betta fish, one guinea pig, and a tree frog that hangs out in her bathroom shower. She tries to write fantasy novels that are funny, interesting and adventurous with just the right amount of romance worked in. You can find her blogging about her books and various other things at slgavyn.wordpress.com.

Book preview

Chapter One

"Paranoia, paranoia, everybody’s coming to get me."

They were all watching him. He resisted the urge to pull his hood farther forward. He knew it already obstructed his face, and he knew if he pulled on it, it would only help to limit his view of his surroundings. It was more important to be able to see his enemy coming than not being seen by others. They wouldn’t know what he was unless he changed, but he wouldn’t allow that. He reached into his pocket and clutched the syringe. It was his insurance policy. He would rather be dead than lose control.

He reached an intersection and quickly pushed the button for the crosswalk before backing up and standing under the bus shed that was nearby. He knew all too well how easily traffic cameras could be tapped into, and he wanted to stay out of view as much as possible. When the light changed, he walked across the street as quickly as possible. On the other side, he began counting the buildings until he found the one he was looking for. From the outside, it appeared to be a run-down club that had long since shut down.

He stood there for a moment and closed his eyes. Listening to his breathing, he allowed it to lull him into a calm, controlled state. He wouldn’t worry about the press release saying he was a crazed killer to be considered armed and dangerous. He knew the truth, and that was what made him truly dangerous. Unfortunately, that also made him valuable to the right people, and he would avoid those people at all costs.

He walked around to the back of the building and descended the steps that led to the basement level. A knock on the door had a bulky guy flinging it open and looking at him questioningly.

I’m Larry. William lied.

The bulky guy stuffed a pistol in William’s face before motioning him to enter the room.

Now, Brutus. This man is a paying customer and deserves a bit more respect than that, a Werewolf sitting on a stool nearby said. He sat in front of a metal table in the middle of a room full of boxes. Oh, he looked like an average guy with dark hair and eyes, but there was no denying the truth, though. Brutus just shrugged before tucking the pistol into his waistband.

I’m not much of an expert on gun safety, but that—William pointed toward Brutus’s gun—just seems dangerous.

Brutus didn’t even bother looking at him.

Well, let’s get down to business. I have your ID finished Mr.—he looked at the card in his hand—Carter. He held out the ID but then pulled it back and looked at it again. You know. The thing is that I knew I had seen your face before, but I just couldn’t place it. I thought maybe you’re one of those model types with your clean cut, and you look the part. I said to myself that perhaps you’re on a billboard or a bus I see now and then. Now, I’m not in the business of asking too many questions, but then it hit me. You’re famous. Aren’t you, Mr. Ford?

William worked to keep his breathing even. He wouldn’t allow this man to get him worked up. He was probably just trying to get more money.

William smiled at the Were. It seems neither of us is what we claimed.

Oh? And how do you figure that?

I didn’t tell you I’m a wanted criminal, and you didn’t say that you’re Fabled.

The man smiled. True, but you never asked either.

And neither did you. As you said, you’re in the business of not asking too many questions. Now, if you’ll just give me the ID, I’ll be happy to pay you the money you requested.

That was before I knew you were famous. Do you know how much you’re worth?

Do you know what the people who are searching for me do to your kind?

The Were shrugged. I couldn’t care less what they do.

You’ll care when they show up and decide to take two specimens back with them.

The Were laughed. I’d like to see them try.

William met his humor with his own. I’ve seen far stronger wolves than you broken by them.

An image of a Werewolf at the facility in New York came to mind. They’d put that man through hell. The last time William saw him, he’d been on death’s door. All William could do was pray for his soul, not that he thought it’d do much good.

Word is you were their star employee. They probably want you back to give you a raise, the Were said.

If that’s the case, then you are doubly screwed because I just brought them our next volunteer. You won’t be worth much. Wolves are a dime a dozen.

The Were’s eyes narrowed. The thing you’re not understanding is that I’m the one turning you in.

William shrugged. Do you think they will care?

The Were didn’t have the opportunity to respond. A small red dot centered on his forehead an instant before a bullet passed through it. William dove for the metal desk, but he was struck in the leg. He looked down at the small dart that protruded from his pant leg. Apparently, they didn’t want him harmed too badly.

He could feel his breathing begin to increase, and his vision began to blur. He tried to calm himself, but he could hear multiple feet as they moved in on his position. He concentrated on his hearing. Two were on his left about fifteen feet behind him. He could hear their steady breathing as they prepared for a fight. Others were repelling from the story above him, and he could make out the sound of their gloves on the nylon rope as they slid down, and the thump of their boots as they hit the concrete floor.

His breathing continued to increase. He reached into his pocket and grasped the syringe. He needed to use it. If he let himself go too far, there would be no stopping him, but he wouldn’t win this as he was. Ultimately, he closed his eyes and sent a small prayer for forgiveness before releasing his hold on the syringe and on the dam within him he had been trying to maintain.

When he opened his eyes again, his vision pulsed. He jumped onto the desk and saw several red bodies. They aimed their guns at him, but he was gone before they could fire their shots. He jumped into the air at the two who were closest. He barely touched the first, slicing his claw across the man’s neck before landing in front of the other. He grabbed the man’s throat and ripped out his larynx.

His surroundings blurred as he ran at the other soldiers who had been sent for him. Their deaths were swift and brutal, and William relished their blood, which flowed in gulfs. He would bathe in it, breathe in the coppery smell, and drink deeply. For there was nothing like the taste of your enemies.

William woke to the sound of a siren. He sat up so quickly that his head spun, and darkness formed on the edge of his vision. Listening for the sirens, he realized that they were in another part of town, and they didn’t seem to be getting closer. He scanned his surroundings. He was on the roof of a building, and on closer inspection, he found that it wasn’t the building he had been in when he allowed the beast to take over. He thought back but could only remember killing his would-be captors and the pleasure the act brought his creature. After that, it was a blur. He didn’t like not remembering.

He looked down at himself and found that himself covered in blood, and his clothes ripped to shreds. He felt for the syringe and found it still in the pocket of his hoodie. The blood on his clothes was stiff and flaking off, with only a few spots that were still tacky. How long had passed since he killed those men, and more important, where was he?

A walk around the perimeter of the roof showed no way of getting down. The building appeared to be three stories, so he could only guess as to how he was able to climb onto the roof in the first place. Finally, he removed the syringe from his hoodie, tore off the last remnants of it and the drenched shirt underneath, and left them on the roof. He figured he would be less conspicuous without a shirt than he would be wearing one covered in blood. His jeans were a joke. Only strips of material covered in blood remained, but without them, he might draw unwanted attention.

He held the syringe between his teeth, sat on the edge of the roof with his legs hanging off, rolled over onto his stomach, and slowly lowered until he was hanging from the ledge. He looked down at the windowsill a few feet below his dangling feet. He took a breath and released his hold on the roof, landing on the balls of his feet. A look through the window showed it was an apartment, and no one seemed to be home. He had two choices, either try to enter the apartment and hope it was unoccupied, or continue lowering himself from windowsill to windowsill until he reached the ground. He chose the former option since he couldn’t walk around with practically no clothes on.

The window was locked, but with enough force, he popped it open. He slid inside and listened. Nothing but silence answered him. A peek in the closet showed women’s clothing. He looked down at his triceps, which had tripled in size over the last several months, and quickly dismissed the idea of borrowing any of the clothes from this closet.

He moved to the door and listened again. He would be able to hear breathing even if the occupant was sleeping on the couch or in another bedroom. When he heard nothing, he quickly moved across the hall into the adjacent room. There he found men’s clothing, but they were still several sizes too small. Finally, he found a pair of sweats and a hoodie that should cover him well enough until he could get back to where he had stashed his pack. Luckily, the man’s shoes did fit so he wouldn’t have to put his blood-soaked shoes back on.

The shower felt like heaven in liquid form. How long had it been since he’d showered? If his smell was any indication, it had been far too long. He quickly dressed in his borrowed clothes and, after removing his wallet from the back pocket, dropped his jeans and shoes out the window he had entered. He picked up the syringe and put in the pocket of his hoodie. He stopped long enough to take a steadying breath; then he unlocked the door of the apartment and exited.

The corridor was empty, as were the stairs. William picked up a newspaper out of one of the residents’ paper box in the lobby and began reading as he exited the building. He was correct in assuming that he hadn’t been out long. According to the paper, it was only the next morning—that’s when the shock came. He had been in South Carolina last night when he killed those men. He was now in Houston, Texas.

How could he have gotten from South Carolina to Texas so quickly? It was unlikely he had caught a plane given the state of his clothes when he awoke. He knew he wouldn’t figure out the answer to this conundrum right now, so he began working on what to do next. Why would he come to Texas? He didn’t even know anyone in Texas. Maybe it was as simple an answer as his beast liked the heat. It was late summer, and now that the sun was fully up, the temperature was rising quickly.

William looked around and mentally shrugged before starting down the sidewalk. He supposed Texas was as good a place as any other state if only he had his thing. All of his belongings sat in a pack outside a bus station in South Carolina. He stopped next to a building and checked his wallet. He still had the cash he’d planned to use for his new ID. That would have to last him. He stepped back out onto the sidewalk and started walking. He just needed to keep a low profile, and he should be able to—

You! I know you.

As his heart skipped a beat, he could practically hear the beast growl. He worked to school his face before he turned and looked at the man who had spoken.

The man approached and looked straight into William’s eyes. Yes, it’s you. I have been waiting for you. You’re heading in the wrong direction.

William glanced in the direction he had been headed and then back at the man who was inspecting him as though he were a new specimen he had under a microscope.

I’m sorry. I believe you have me confused with someone else. William didn’t know who this man thought he was, but he didn’t appear afraid, so it was unlikely he had seen the news reports.

The man barked out a laugh. As if that could happen. Come on, William. We have work to do. He turned and began walking in the opposite direction.

William stood watching him leave. The man stopped several feet away and turned back to William.

Or do you want your beast to be in control forever? How long do you think that tranq will continue to keep him at bay?

He nodded his head as his eyes moved to the pocket of William’s borrowed hoodie. The man’s eyes returned to William’s for an instant before he turned and began walking away.

William didn’t know this guy. Nothing about the man spoke of deceit, but those who were versed in that art were quite good at it. He knew that from experience. But if he was going to turn William in, he could have had an extraction team descend. Of course, that hadn’t worked out too well for the last team. It was quite possible this was a trap of some kind, but he was limited in his options.

Ultimately, the man was right about one thing. He couldn’t continue the way he had been. He had slowly been losing the battle with his beast, and he feared the day would come when he would cease to exist, and only the beast would remain. He needed to do something now, if only for everyone else’s safety.

William threw caution to the wind.

Chapter Two

"Tales from the Dark Side"

Good morning, Kairi.

Good morning, Mr. Hinkle.

How did you do on that anatomy final?

The scores haven’t posted yet, but I’m pretty sure I aced it.

He smiled broadly. I knew you would.

I smiled back before continuing on my way down the street. Mrs. Dawson was out water her begonias as she did every morning. She stopped long enough to wave at me. I, again, plastered a smile on my face as I returned the wave. Mr. Keller, the mail carrier, was starting his daily rounds, and his response to me was the same as every other morning. He tipped his hat and smiled as I passed him.

Some days I swore my face would be forever fixed in a macabre smile that made me look like some demonic clown forced to fake enthusiasm for all eternity. The truth was that I just wanted to tell them off, or at least some of them. Was it so wrong to have a bad day? People around here never took out their frustrations on others. Of course, I didn’t know what happened behind closed doors, but if everyone else was like my parents, they would rush to the bookshelf and pull out the closest how to deal with angst book and read through the steps until they felt they had a firm grasp on their emotions. Me? I just wanted to scream, just once a blood-curdling, high-pitched wail.

But I wouldn’t dare. Then they would think something was wrong with me, and I couldn’t let them suspect. Such behavior had repercussions, and I certainly didn’t want to know what they would be. It was likely I wouldn’t remember my punishment anyway, just like Tina Tenley. She had had a meltdown our senior year of high school, and no one saw her for nearly three weeks. Then she returned to school as though nothing happened. When I asked her if she was all right, she had acted as though I was the crazy one and told me she was perfectly fine.

It reminded me of the time I stayed at Old Lady Mable’s house while my parents were away on a business trip. I had snuck downstairs late at night and found her watching public television. Having never watched it myself, I was riveted by the scenes. It was some program called the Twilight Zone. This particular episode followed a man capable of mind control. It was from there that my imagination ran wild.

I rolled my eyes as I realized where my thoughts had taken me. I knew I shouldn’t let my conspiracy theories overtake my common sense, but it was getting harder and harder to ignore them. Luckily, I wasn’t alone.

My day at the community college passed without incident, just like every other day since I started there almost three years ago. I was only a year away from getting my degree in psychology. My mother had laughed when I told her what I wanted to major in. She then apologized and explained she was only concerned that my lack of patience might make this profession a bit difficult for me, but my curiosity into how the brain worked, and why mine seemed so different from everyone else’s, was what intrigued me. Of course, I didn’t tell her that.

I stayed for a few minutes after class and carried on casual conversations with a few of the girls; then I made my excuses and began the walk back to my home. Only I wouldn’t be returning home quite yet. I needed some reality. I needed to know I wasn’t alone, and I wasn’t crazy no matter what all the others said. But most of all I needed to know I wasn’t a sheep. I was not just a cog in the mechanical makeup of the core mind. I am independent, and that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. I knew there were only two people in the entire town of Cadu Valley that would be able to give me what I needed.

I dug my cell out of my purse and called home.

Hello, Kairi, dear. Is class out already? My today has just flown by.

Hi, Mom. Would it be okay for me to stop by Dee’s for a bit?

Of course. I know you miss being able to see her all the time like you used to. Just be home for supper.

I will.

I hung up quickly and picked up my pace. Dee would be home by now. She only worked part-time at the local beauty salon, mostly because she didn’t have very many regulars. She was a bit of an extremist when it came to fashion and the small-minded people of our town hadn’t quite caught on yet. Not that I would agree with all of her styles, but I still made sure she was the only one who cut my hair and made sure to keep an eye on her while she did it.

I knocked on the front door loudly, turned around, and made my way around to the back of the house. When I reached the back door, I just let myself in. By that time, she would know who had knocked and would be expecting me. To say Dee didn’t like surprises was a bit of an understatement. The kitchen of the house looked pristine, just like the rest of this level and the one above. It was partly to keep up appearances and partly because she didn’t live in these portions of the house. Oh, she would occasionally invite over the neighbor for tea or make an appearance of deep cleaning her home so no one was suspicious, but only Clive and I knew the truth.

After a quick sweep through the lower level to make sure no one was watching me—Dee would kill me if I didn’t—I returned to the kitchen and opened the door leading to the basement. The stairs ended in a small space that contained a washer and dryer and a few floor-to-ceiling shelves that contained various boxes. I walked up to one of the shelves, stuck my hand into what appeared to be a spider web–ridden space between two boxes, and pushed a hidden button.

On the adjacent wall, a section of the brick slid back and to the side. I knew not to waste any time and quickly slipped into the opening before it reclosed. If you were in the way as it started to close, the force of the brick could crush you. I held out my hands and looked at them as I always did.

They’re still there. I’m pretty sure you would know if one of your digits got squished off.

I rolled my eyes. Dee knew about my irrational fear of losing a piece of myself in her secret entryway and made sure to tease me about it at every opportunity. Today she seemed far too preoccupied to say much about it, though. She sat in her usual seat in front of the six computer monitors she used to do everything from illegally surfing the Internet to spy on the people of our town, Cadu Valley, via the security and traffic cameras.

Dee had moved down to this section of the house after her parents died our senior year of high school. Their deaths were questionable and bizarre, which led to Dee becoming paranoid shortly afterward, well, more paranoid than usual. She started expanding on the computer she already owned and soon managed to tap into the Internet. From there, she’d learned plenty to increase her paranoia. She found the hidden entrance to this basement level by accident and quickly moved in.

Her smile was from ear to ear, her dark lipstick making her perfect teeth appear even whiter, and it instantly had me on edge. I turned my attention from her to Clive, who sat in his usual spot in the corner. He was reading a book, effectively ignoring both of us.

Hey, Clive.

Hey, sheep. How was school today? He didn’t even look up from his book.

Enthralling. We’ve been studying about multiple personality disorder.

That sounds…not interesting.

What are you reading? Another science-fiction novel about space-traveling ninjas?

He finally looked up at me so I could see him roll his eyes. They were not ninjas. They simply were schooled in the ancient art of Kenjutsu.

I just looked at him.

That doesn’t make them ninjas, he added.

Shut up, you two. I have some freakin’ big news, and I have been about to explode while waiting for you sheep to get here, Dee said.

I narrowed my eyes at her, but it was evident she was superexcited. Her dark purple hair bounced around close to her head as she jumped from one foot the other. The gauges in her ears seemed to be bigger every time I saw her, and the numerous piercings running up her lobes appeared to grow continually in number. She was still one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen, but she seemed oblivious to that fact.

Then spill. What is this oh-so important news? I said.

I finally did it. I figured it out.

My eyes widened. You figured it out? You mean you know how it’s done, and you can reverse it?

Her smile faded as she began to look uncertain. Um, I’m not sure about the reversal part. It will take some trial and error, but I am certain I’m on the right track, and it’s all thanks to you.

I pointed to my chest. Me?

Yes. It was your mind manipulation theory that finally allowed me to figure it out.

You mean they have someone who can control minds?

Don’t be ridiculous. No one can control minds. But with the right drugs and computer software, you can manipulate them. Perhaps even make people remember things that didn’t happen.

I sucked in a breath of air. I had always known something didn’t add up. It wasn’t as though I couldn’t remember anything from before I was nine. I had memories from my early childhood, but my parents told me there was an accident when I was nine. It had been a hot summer, and my parents had taken me to the lake. If I closed my eyes, I could see it perfectly. I could see myself trying to dive into the water as the older kids did. I remember being pulled out of the water after I’d hit my head on a rock. The only problem with the memory is none of my other senses recognized it. I could think of any memory after that accident, and there was always more than just pictures. I don’t even remember feeling the pain of my head hitting the rock.

I recall my tenth birthday party a month after I got out of the hospital. My parents had rented out the local amusement park and invited everyone from my class. There were lots of rides, and a man had a pony for us to ride. I remember the feel of the sun on my face as it beat down, heating the midsummer day. It was unseasonably hot. The ice cream had been nothing more than a puddle of flavored cream inside the cones.

The pony had smelled funny as I had ridden it, but the entirely new experience was exhilarating. I remember the feeling of being on a horse for the first time. A classmate, Joey Lewis, had stuffed cake in his mouth, woofing it down in huge mouthfuls followed by the melted ice cream. He was next on the merry-go-round, but he had only made it one round before he leaned over the side and puked. I remember the smell as the wind picked up and blew the scent toward us. I haven’t liked cake since.

The problem with my memories before I was nine is that they are only pictures—no feelings, no smells, and no tastes. I told my mother about this several years ago, and for just an instant, I saw panic cross her face before she covered it with her you’re just a child and don’t understand these sort of things and told me it was probably that my senses had deadened because of the accident. How an accident I had when I was nine would make my memory of my first day of kindergarten feel like watching a home movie of someone else, I wasn’t sure. The first feeling I remember was cold. That was when I had woken up in the hospital after the accident. Everything before that was different.

Hearing Dee talking pulled me out of my thoughts, and I realized she was explaining her statement.

…then I found this biometric analysis when I was cleaning old Dr. Davis’s house and remembered you blabbing on about them manipulating our minds, so I stole the printout.

Are you crazy? You stole a printout? Wait. Why were you cleaning Dr. Davis’s house in the first place?

She began chewing on her bottom lip, and I knew she didn’t want to tell me.

She got canned, Clive said.

Shut up, geeky boy.

Clive got to his feet and looked at us. He narrowed his glacial blue eyes at Dee but said nothing before stuffing his book back in his pack and turning for the door.

Look, I’m sorry, Clive. Please don’t go, Dee said.

He looked back at her for a moment before leaving the room. When the door shut behind him, I turned to her with my hands on my hips.

You know he hates being called that.

She took a deep breath before releasing it loudly. I know. It’s just that every day I have to deal with people looking down on me and acting like they’re better than me. I just don’t want to hear it from my friends too.

I put my hand on her shoulder. He wasn’t making fun of you. He was just telling me what he knew you didn’t want to.

She shrugged off my hand. I know. I’m sure it doesn’t surprise you that the beauty shop let me go. You know that bitch Claudine actually told me that I was scaring off some of the patrons. That’s bullshit, and you know it. Hell, there’s no other parlor in town. What are they gonna do, cut their own damn hair? I doubt that.

She had it in for you from the beginning. The truth was that I could totally see where Claudine was coming from, but when your best friend tells you she was being