Dare Me Baby: Breanna's Supernatural Awakening, #2

By Jeanetta King

The last time Breanna saw or heard from her father was almost a decade ago, so when he called her out of the blue and told her to drop everything and come right away. She travelled to Washington in her refurbished Volkswagen on a wing and a prayer. Little did Breanna know that once she walked through the doors, her life would never be the same. Her grandmother always told her when life toss you apples instead of lemons; throw them back and run.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jeanetta King
• Release date: May 2, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386231417

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Last Meal

WATER WAS ONE OF THE BEST THERAPIES in the world, not only did this fountain of youth cleanse your body, and healed it; it contained water crystals along with memory markers. Buckle-up, because that was only the drop in the bucket. My grandmama told me when she was alive that it washed away your usual stress, soothed nerves but most importantly, it exorcised demons. Grandmama’s Voodoo Priestesses proved that during the winter solstice, when the Benton family came for help. The Benton’s daughter, Amy, she was about my age, at the time when she first started hearing voices, not like I hear voices but spooky shit. Demonic entities that preyed upon the weak, poltergeists no doubt, they had zombified her to their will. Had her cursing and swearing rendering her parents scared shitless. Demons from Tartarus tended to do that, they had that ability screw the mind, but only if you were vibrating at their lower frequency, which she was, at that time, on suicidal watch from deep depression. The lower dimensional entities from the Four Realms of Darkness watched and waited for the invite, a gateway to enter her aura through small portals. Another hooked himself to her lower chakra shadowing her, feeding off her fear. The two Jackals turned the sweetest girl into a possessed demon crippling her to darkness, scared of her own shadow.

Mr. Odes Benton, of World View Connections, he wanted to take her to a psychotherapist, she needed professional help but he was like me, he didn’t know any better, he didn’t come from the lower district. Just hearing the word psychiatrist, better known in the lower district as shrink caused everybody in the neighborhood to freak out. They started spitting, throwing salt and chanting mantras to ward off evil spirits because shrink was a curse word. It was simply, crazy talk, unheard of to take your kin to talk to someone who wasn’t a voodoo witch. Although, it was a fucked up situation, it wasn’t the straw that broke the camel’s back.

The priestesses from my grandmama’s coven, Six Rings of Bones, they made a special potion for Amy using her blood and a separate batch for her parents to drink but also with Amy’s blood. They had to treat the whole family otherwise; the demons would hopscotch from one family member to the next. Amy’s parents listened as they followed the Six Rings of Bones, chanting wild mantras spelling the wind and earth, making consecutive protective circle around the parameters of the house. The doors and windows warded with magic. The Six Rings of Bones didn’t want to keep the demons out; none would enter the Benton’s property since the two that occupied the house had already marked it. The coven’s black magic would trap the demons inside so they couldn’t run once they realized what was happening on the eleventh day of exorcizing. Margret Benton, Amy’s mother, she would be the strongest conduit between mother, father and child. At sun fall, put that girl in the shower, as hot as you all can bare it, every day for twelve days, you and your husband join her after drinking the potion. On the eleventh day, all three of your pee will be black as tar and that would be the scum of the demons.

Sure enough, the spell was broken. Amy didn’t remember a thing. The water crystals remembered who Amy was before the invasion and filled her with the essences and memories from the crystalized water she drank on the twelfth day. Sure enough, the spell was broken. Amy didn’t remember a thing. The water was always the cure along with a little voodoo magic.

Banishing those thoughts, the steam filled the bathroom quickly giving me a serene feeling of being in the clouds, the Clouds of Thoughts. I wrote a question with my finger on the steamed glass shower door, and there was a reason for that. Help me! I wrote. Then thought, that wasn’t good enough—too, vague. So I wrote below it; Give me the knowledge to help my dad. That was all wrong, too. Then I tried again but this time I closed my eyes and allowed my finger to ask the question. When I looked up I had written; What was his message? I stared at the question and was satisfied. The answer wouldn’t come right away from the Collectives they solved problems on a universal scale. My grandmama told me that I had to learn to be patient with the Collective Ones; you don’t want them as an enemy. They even revealed Hidden Secrets behind the veil of truth, nothing stayed hidden forever. This I knew, but not poor Mr. Riley, that fool got caught cheating, tried to curse the Collectives, and he fell down the rabbit hole and still probably falling. His wife left him for a younger man had two beautiful babies, and living it up in one of those swanky brand-new homes up in beautiful Kensington. If my grandmama told you to do or not to do something, you better, take heed, and listen, because she and those voodoo women from the south in the deep bayou they knew a lot more than we did.

You best believe, I didn’t push it, I was antsy, but an antsy patient little hellion.

Done. I murmured.

I would have to wait but in the meantime, I tried to convince myself that everything in my world was right, but it wasn’t because there was something wrong. Something wrong with me, a mental blockage or something. How could I forget? I couldn’t. My dad had taught me all the secret codes since the age of five and now they were gone

Furtively, my mindscape started percolating, inquiries bubbled out of the black oily waters of thoughts from inside my head. And, there it was. Not really a question or answer but just simply thoughts trying to create patterns. There was always a reason for everything my dad did. I was to learn what those things were. It was coming back to me vaguely. I needed to know, closing my eyes allowing my mind to travel to the past. My dad was not a crybaby, he lost not one tear when my mom died, and for him to cry in front of strangers. Hum... I thought and then a flash brighten a part of my brain from the past; it zoomed in and focused its lenses until it was vivid. I watched my dad when he showed me the very first, what he called, Secret Code message. A single teardrop, which meant this was important, pay attention. The next code that I remembered came from him bouncing his left knee three times. Life was masculine; the bouncing was the child on the knee. He was talking about three males; I assumed Ayden, Liam and Zack. It was clear when his thumb slid down his jawline, which meant family. He clasped his hands together, on his lap, which I was sure it meant trust, meaning I could trust them.

Somehow, all the codes vanished as if someone hit the delete button inside my head. The residue left behind only were vague shadows of once was there. Not even enough info for me to receive a clear picture of understanding the rest of his message.

Before last night, my dad, Sydell Van Padellus, and I, we had not been on speaking terms. I would call and he would not answer, I would get his answering machine. I didn’t want to talk to his machine so I would hang up and try again the next day. After the fourth day, I left a lengthy message begging him for help, telling him of my dire situation. When I called back on the fifth day, I figured he would answer, especially since I was begging and crying for help. I got a message this time; there were no such number, please check your number and try again. I did, redialing the same number but being more careful, making no mistakes. Same damn message. That was it, not only did he abandon me, he didn’t even want to hear my voice. I was alone and ever since that day, I became a hellion and adopted two selfies, Nero and Dahlia. I hated Dale, resented him with a profound passion. I hated the day my mother met him, if that made any sense.

Of course, he abandon me almost a decade ago, and I should have gotten over it by now, but the paint really never dried on shit like that, not when it involved your parents tossing you under the bus.

Instead of him dropping me off on the doorsteps of a church, or local fire station where I would have been safe, he dropped me off in the Hell-zone, the lower district to live with my grandmother. I went from zero to one hundred and one, real quick. My inauguration into the hood forced a change, which meant dropping the preppy schoolgirl uniform, and picked up hood-rat rags, avoiding gang colors. My black thick glasses also made me a target apparently; no one liked the nerdish look, not in the lower district. For its inhabitants, they saw the black frame glasses as an insignia that stated, I thought I was better than they were. Hell came in many shapes, forms in an array of colors. Six of them circled me as their leader of the gang walked all up on me talking Ebonics, which was an African American Vernacular English. Scared to death, I cursed my grandmother for not warning me, or at least giving me pepper spray. I had to learn Ebonics just as I learned to speak Spanish if I was going to communicate with the lower district hood rats. I knew what they were saying. Bitch, you think you’re smarter than me, that was the taller one who started dropping shade, smelling like Cheetos. Talkin’ all white with your fancy words, where in the fuck are you from. I was push by the shortest one and stumbled back as they played volleyball with me pushing me from one person to the next until I fell to the dirt. I picked up my backpack after they ransacked it, I thought looking for cash or credit cards, which I had none. I gathered my things, after they pulled my hair, smashed my face in the dirt. I mumbled something under my breath, praying, like an idiot. The shorter one was the instigator to the ringleader. "Girl... Oh. Hell. Nah... she rocked her head on its axis. She’s talkin’ bout you and yo mama. You better get her straight, girl. She don’t even know!" She clapped out her words as if in church. At that point, I followed the instruction from National Geographic’s magazine. A self-help advice on what to do when a bear was coming at you. I balled up into the fetal position making myself small while they beat the prayer from me.  Kicked and pulled my hair until I vomited.

Believe it, those were the first words they spilled out of their belligerent mouths and my very first ass beating. I thought of it as an initiation into the hood. Now run your ass back to where you came from broke ass bitch!

All that negative madness washed away after seeing my dad last night, everything had changed between us. I felt 20-pounds lighter from dropping all the hatred, anger, and pain, along with every negative thought or curse I made against him. The voodoo doll I left unfinished because I needed his hair. All this from being broken in the matrix with daddy abandonment issues. Now, I stood at the precipice of a great divide. Did I dare trust him again? Did I dare believe anything he had to say? I had spent hours in my bedroom pondering that very thing.

Even so, the negative caused a chain reaction ultimately easing the weight off poor Nero and Dahlia. Nero was comparable to my alter ego, a fearless, bonefide, hood-rat selfly who I could only see, and with a little hocus-pocus he and his twin sister Dahlia, they could live in my world but with restrictions. They couldn’t roam too far as my energy kept them in my reality, which meant about twelve feet in circumference from me, otherwise they would faze-out back to their realm. When it did happen, by mistake, it would take them days to get back, so they never roam too far, unless they wanted to leave, and that happened a lot, too.

Both my selflies were extremely cute, big green eyes, and little redheaded rascals. I stayed in trouble because of Nero with his double daring and stretching the boundaries of life to its limit with fuck you attitude. He also kept me safe and alive by picking our battles. Knowing when to run or when to hide. I couldn’t complain too much, I wouldn’t be the person I was today without hiccups and bruises. Therefore, a give and take relationship kept him residing on my left shoulder. Dahlia, on the other hand, she was totally opposite and my reasoning at my right. My love meter who kept me balanced and insane during puberty, and recently taking me through another beginners 101 puberty course—back to ground zero. If the first time wasn’t bad enough—I digress. When I couldn’t handle Nero overzealousness, she would step up to him and check his ass. Their yin and yang kept me mentally stable throughout the years.

I slept throughout the morning, and afternoon, up until eleven-thirty in the evening with help from Zack’s cocktail of sleep meds, which had not only knocked me out cold but also Nero and Dahlia from just a lick.

Zack arrived and I must say not a moment too soon with the smoothie he promised me daily. God, I needed it and so did my selflies licking the rim of the glass. It boost me up right away, but did not take away the ravishing hunger, it only eased the growling to a moan for real food.

I need the transcripts. I said aloud as it suddenly popped inside my head.

The ones from the meeting and Jonjo Leathley, Von Mortakyi’s assistant, had them. I made a quick text asking him if they were ready. Naked as a wet hellion, I tossed my cellphone onto my bed next to Zack, he was flipping through Other Dimensions & Doppelgangers one of the magazine I swiped from the Forbe’s first floor library. A new publication, I imagined, one that only the Forbes and other Elite’s had subscriptions.

Find something on my playlist, it’s all good.

Quickly, I wrapped a towel around my wet hair, dried my body with the other thick white towel, waiting for some music to fill the empty atmosphere.

Zack going through my playlist of music from my cellphone.

Hey, that’s a good one let it play, I yelled from the bathroom. Apparently, we did not like the same music. A song would start to play and he switched to the next one, and then the next. Not allowing one song to play through.

What did you think about Von Mortakyi? Zack asked.

Loved him! I yelled from the bathroom brushing my teeth, rinsed and spat. I was surprised I did not have that tired drugged out look that represent a hellion’s hangover. I fired up a thinly rolled joint and puffed off it, sitting it on the edge of the marble vanity.

And, Jericho?

Handsome, arrogant, handsome. I said blowing out the smoke, feeling the ganja.

You want some of this? I poked my head out the door with the joint squeezed in between my fingers.

No, doll. I’m already full of smoke, it doesn’t get any better than this and if I take another hit, I won’t stop.

More for me, I crooned, unwrapping the towel from around my head. My wet hair fell free with me shimmying my shoulders with a cute little dance. A dance I remembered Ayden stupid ass falling into a heated freak from watching me from his periscope hustling flunkies’ surveillance cameras.

What about Octavia of Lexington? Zack yelled out.

Oh, yeah, right. I forgot about her. I said poking my head out of the bathroom. "She was like all—‘don’t take this personally, I said mocking her with a poor French accent. But, I’m getting ready to shit all up on you."

Say, what? Zack said stretching his neck up as if it was an antenna to give him a better reception.

Oh, yeah. She acted as if she had my back, and then said some stuff about me being marked.

No, shit! She said that in front of the panel?

Yep, and they got a little pissed pulling their weight but she held her own.

Zack, tell me what marked means? I asked Trenton but he looked constipated just from hearing the word? I said swiping the dripping water from my eyes.

"He shrugged one shoulder with a lopsided tight smile.

‘Shit!" I squealed, burning the vanity. I rubbed it with my finger and thank my ancestors it didn’t leave a burn mark.

Anyway, she threw dagger eyes at Balancer Maxwell, and left after stating that her big bad ass brother was going to hear about their secret meeting of men. She went on and on, ranting. Some of her agitated words I did not understand because they were in French. But, she came out of the batting cage swinging hard when she told Valdar that she was going to tell the king about how they were all throwing him under the bus.

You know what, doll? He said tossing my cellphone onto the bed.

I am going to also need a look at the live feed along with a copy of the transcripts. You might not be able to understand the French language but I do. I have a premonition that we need to investigate what is really going on between Octavia and Balancer Maxwell.

So, does that mean we’re teaming up? All the way Cloak & Dagger, boosting our relationship to the friendship zone. I felt his energy and knew that was exactly what he was saying. His expression verified my assumption and now I have a partner.

Lil’sis, I got you and we’re boosting our friendship to the family zone.

Alright, puppy. He gave me a look of disapproval from me calling him puppy. I thought it was cute but apparently, he was not feeling the same warm fuzzy feelings I was.

Okay, big bro. I smiled. Up or down? I said pointing to my wet hair.

You need a professional, that’s what you need, he said, walking toward the bathroom snatching up my cellphone off the bed.

That’s why I asked.

I’m not a pro but let me have a go at it. He said and pointed to the vanity chair placing my cellphone on the vanity. Have a seat, and buckle up, Doll.

What are you going to do? I whined a little knowing the top hairstylist around the world were males, most I imagined gay males, but he was not a hairstylist or gay.

Just sit still and let me work my magic. I closed my eyes and moaned out a grunt every time he combed out a snag.

Zack, my dad trusted you, and in so many words he told me that I could trust Liam.

We have always been close even when I was nothing more than a strongest swimmer in my dad’s sacks. He continued to pull on my hair and my face frowned into a tight knot from the pain.

All four of us, including Ayden. Let’s say, we have been trained by the best.

I opened my eyes. What do you mean trained by the best?

Doll, just as I said.

Ouch! Careful, my hair isn’t like yours. I squealed when he pulled my head back by my ponytail, meeting my eyes.

Sometimes, like now, you don’t speak; you only listen because when you speak you have already missed the answer to your question. The answer is in the words, body language movements or in the air, just listen. My advice to you is to pay attention, doll.

Okay, gotcha, I said and he stared at me from the mirror, and added. The two of us we can read through the transcripts but I would like to add a third person. Someone we can both trust.

Who?

Liam, that’s who, he will help us get past all the legal ramifications. He will have access to shit we can’t touch, which include other transcripts. He pulled my head all the way down so that it was practically between my legs.

Interesting birthmark, he said touching it with his fingertips. Instantly, I grimaced, waiting for the electrical shock. I gritted my teeth but nothing happened. I exhaled, and breathed in fresh air, thinking that was weird.

Liam? I questioned with a loud grunt as he pulled and braided my hair into a painfully thick corn roll starting at the base of my neck ending at the top of my head.

Ouch! I yelped, again.

Yes, and trust me, you can trust him with your life. He said with his fingers and hands twisting my hair on top of my head.

Good to know.

Now, how’s this?

Nice... I’m loving it. I said standing up for a better look. Boy, I thought I was going to have to smack you one when you were finished, but this was worth the pain.

Girl, please. I got magic hands—ask anyone. He grinned adding the hairpins. "Be still before I punch holes into your noggin.

Where were you yesterday, I could have used some of your magic.

I was here, and you looked beautiful. Not as beautiful as you look right now.

You know, it was really nice seeing the Balancers of the Circle, getting reacquainted with old friends and also making new ones.

Reacquainted? His brows knitted tight, which caused his face to frown when I caught his reflection in the mirror.

Maxwell and Trenton, they were there. I know you saw them.

Hmm..., when did you meet your good friends of the Circle? He questioned.

A while ago, why does it matter? Dang, he was acting all jealous because I have friends in high places.

I’m sure your friends found your birthmark. Zack said low and really didn’t care whether I answered him or not, he added, That would explain a lot. Now, I get it. He mumbled without any further explanation to his suspicion of my relationship with Maxwell and Trenton.

Anyway, moving on. I said with a little attitude, and checking my text message for Jonjo’s text.

I felt a tad-bit embarrassed about my exit, acting like a baby. I said placing the cellphone onto the vanity, next to the scorched mark where my joint burned out. I rubbed it with my finger and exhaled when the mark disappeared. You would think they would understand that I haven’t seen my dad in like forever. Even now I miss him, and wished he was here so we can both start to heal as he promised. I said nostalgically, and added, And get back to being a family—you know what I mean?

His brows knitted together but smoothed out when he gather the words he wanted to say. Things have changed; you can never go back to the way it once was. Life moved on, and you are no longer a little girl, but a growing young woman. He said and held up his hands, Hear me out, doll because certainly, you would not expect your dad to treat you like a child, planning your days and evenings, telling you bedtime stories. Otherwise, making you eat all your vegetable because they are good for you. Right?

Feeling a shy bit embarrassed, I knew the train had already left the station and apparently, I was not on board, but in the past when my life was normal.

I know, I said and continued when he stood still, paying attention. But that was all I really ever wanted ever since the day he left. I just assumed that after the smoked cleared things would go back to the way it was. I didn’t mean me as a little girl. Just the two of us, and I would have my dad back. He would help fill the empty hole that kept getting deeper every year without him.

You have family. Zack said interrupting me. Have you forgotten you have three amazing brothers, and a step mother?

"Oh. Zack, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to exclude you guys. I simply haven’t gotten used to the idea yet.

Well, call me sentimental, because my poor heart have begged for a sister, a little sister as long as I can remember. Now, you’re here, and you are a part of my world. I’m you brother and nothing will ever change that, so you might as well get used to it. One father, one mother, and three very handsome, intelligent, amazingly crafty brothers with love to share. We will help fill that empty hole in your heart that seeks family.

I suffused for a few moment in his aura of love, without tears. Zack was like me, which helped me to wash away the feeling of being a Lone Ranger because in a way, we fixed each other’s cry and desire to be loved.

Pulling out my make-up bag, I applied seven applications, lightly coloring my face highlighting my best attributes, like my lips and eyes, and then I noticed Zack was still looking as if he was lost in space, and bout time I finished he held that same expression.

Zack! I snapped my blush brush on the vanity.

Right, right, he’ll be back here before you know it. He said not quite mentally in the conversation but elsewhere.

I added my final touches to my outfit in the tall vanity mirror in the bedroom and slipped my bare feet into my black pumps. I stared at Zack’s reflection from the mirror when he gave me a sideways glance, noticing me.

Oh, Baby Doll. I turned completely around in a pose with one hand on my hip.

Shucky-ducky-quack-quack! Zack sung out with a shake your booty dance headed toward me. That’s my girl.

Looky, looky! He snapped his fingers, over doing it.

Look at you, you looking all porn-starish princess. Doing it up with that girl-next door polish, glossy pink lips, hair pinned up looking sexy showing off that swan long neck.

You act like you got a date. I thought you said no strings attached, doll?

He said tilting his head in my face.

Most people don’t take me serious without makeup. They think I’m a kid, and that scares them.

He leaned over with a hearty laugh walking toward the door.

Yes, doll, that’s it.

I can’t blame you, it’s all about packaging. No one wants to take the time to see what’s behind the window dressing. Do they? He asked and added, Nah, they don’t.

He shimmied his shoulders, like me, opening the door.

If they did pull back the curtains, I would scare them.

They ain’t scared of you, honey bee; they scared of what you are capable of doing to them. Truth be told, and I am the Light Bringer of Truth, they scared of the Black Velvet that nested between your thighs, all that shit that separates you from me. Believe it.

Zack, that’s just nasty talk. I squealed enjoying it.

If it quacks like a duck it’s a duck. He said, Let’s go, get it moving. He said as we left the room.

CHAPTER TWO

Fraud

WE TOOK THE SERVICE ELEVATOR down to the kitchen; elevator music was on, a little jazzy. Soothing, and relaxing, it helped to melt away the tension building up inside of me. It was the fastest way to get to the dining room, if you did not want to take the stairs. Zack talked on and on about Liam, and tossed Ayden into the conversation, but mostly he talked about my dad. I knew there were clues inside his words, something he was trying to tell me. If, I got it right, then he could continue, but if I got it wrong, he would think I was an Airhead and would not waste his time. Therefore, I was not going to ask him any questions, but listen just as Zack suggested. I would have to find my own answers to my mundane questions. After I collected enough information then I would pull my stepbrothers in, but not until I knew for sure, they were trustworthy.

Zack stood next to me with his family and friends on the other side of the door. Nero and Dahlia appeared on either shoulder, I hadn’t seen them for days. Where you guys been, I said telepathically, and happy to see them. We have our own lives to live, and to be honest, your life gets pretty boring at times. Nero said in my ear. Dahlia told me the truth; they both were old enough now to help bring income into the family. They both got jobs in Pagathus as Mirror Copiers; there were only two main jobs; the Mirror Company and the other City Worker. With both of my little rugrats having jobs, limited our time together. Still not a problem, if I needed them they would come lickety-split.

You ready to meet the family? Zack asked me quietly.

I nodded, yeah, and swallowed hard as I could smell all the delicious foods from outside the closed door. My stomach growled loudly just when Zack swung the double doors open similarly to pulling back the curtain to Oz.

Excitedly, my heart thundered over the hum of conversation and the clatter of plates.

Own it, doll. You’re in control, just be you, let all the other shit go, he said as we walked inside the formal dining hall side by side.

It was massive; my eyes found a decorated ceiling with an enormous chandelier, walls trimmed with gold framed paintings. The formal dining hall was like a ballroom for the rich folks. Which was a damn good