Conjuring Dragons - Chante Francis (feel good fiction books .txt) 📗

            “Anything.” I say breathily.

            “If something happens to me, if we’re not able to defeat all the hunters, I want you to run.”

            “No, I’m tired of running from him. I’m tired of watching him hurt people.”

            “Yes. I want you to get out of here and be safe. I don’t want to die knowing that you could be next. I want you to live the rest of your life happy with kids. Whatever you want. Alright?”

            “That’s not possible for me as long as he still exists, besides I want you. End of discussion.” He sighs and shakes his head before walking over to his mom. He taps her shoulder to get her attention, before walking over to the corner of the room and punching the floor.

            It pops in about 5 inches and he slides it to the side under the rest of the floor and beckons us over. He puts his hand up, telling us to stay there and be quiet as he climbs down the ladder into the dark hole. We wait there a while until an electricity ball floats up to us. Taking it into her hand and snuffing it out Rebecca whispers quietly, “You go down first dear.”

            I look down into the hole before sitting on the edge and slowly sliding/angling myself onto the ladder. I slowly climbed down into the never-ending darkness hoping to a higher power that there wasn’t some kind of mouth below waiting to swallow me whole simply because I was stupid enough to climb into this hole in the first place.

            I kept climbing down, with my mind racing a mile a minute when I felt arms wrap around my waist. If it wasn’t for the butterflies in my stomach or the heat building in my body I would have screamed, but I knew it was Jason.

            He pulled me down off the ladder and put me to the side, I couldn’t see anything but the way he squeezed me before letting go, told me that I was not to move. A few silent moments passed before I felt his arm around my waist once again. He pulled me along through the dark little room before lightly pushing on what seemed like a wall in front of us and sliding it to the side a little.

            I squeezed between Jason and his mother and peeked outside the crack just in time to see a man fly down the hallway. We watched for a little longer waiting to see if there were any more hunters, but all we saw were a few supernaturals I was told lived in town. Jason pushes the wall to the side just enough for all of us to slip through.

            He nods to some of the fighters on our side before stealthily leading us through the house to another wall that he pops and slides out of place. He leaves his mother to guard the entrance to the wall and we walk down a short hallway, make a right at the corner and walk down a few steps to a door.

            I reach for the doorknob, but he catches my hand and pushes me up against the wall instead. He lays a kiss full of passion and love on my lips before wrapping his arms around my waist and holding me close. He lifts me off the ground and nuzzles his face in my neck for an immeasurable moment before whispering, “I love you” and pulling away.

            He kisses me one more time before placing me on the ground and opening the door. I watch him as I carefully back my way into the room, and stop to watch him close the door behind me. The last thing I hear before turning around is his voice in my head saying, “Stay safe.”

Chapter Fifteen

"Who are the hunters?" It took me a moment to realize that it was my voice that I was hearing, I hadn’t meant to say it aloud. At first, no one answers, no clamor of voices jump to answer my question, just a bunch of blank stares. When moments pass by and no one answers, I open my mouth to ask again, and pause. I hear someone very quietly whisper "The cursed".

The odd label seems to bounce around on the walls like a super ball as if it was screamed and not whispered into the muted room. It seems to give everyone the consent they were looking for to speak, as if it were a key to the locked doors of their mouths. The next thing I know everybody's screaming "monsters!" and "Evil incarnate!" as loud as they dare. In fact, had she not been next to me, I wouldn't have heard a regal old woman I had not noticed before say, "They are our family members; our loved ones."

I couldn't help the "What?" from escaping my mouth as I turned my head to face her; surely I must have misheard. Her answer is so different from everyone else’s that it’s obvious there's something missing. She speaks again, but I can't hear her over everyone else, and apparently neither can my sister.

"Everybody shut it!" I scream and the cellar immediately goes quiet. Everybody holds their breath and turns to either the door or the ceiling above us; waiting to see if anyone heard us. After a few long moments full of anxiety pass, everyone turns towards my sister, who turns towards me, which gets everyone to shift their gazes once again. I then turn to the little old lady and urge her to repeat her statement.

"I was saying that my son is a hunter."

My eyes open wide and my jaw slackens, as I stare at her. In my mind her declaration is a kin to growing three heads and telling me she is a direct descendant to a god. "So does," I swallow the frog lodged in my throat, "does that make you a hunter as well?" I ask seriously, trying desperately to hide the mix of fear and worry. If I have to kill to protect my sister I will.

She chuckles darkly before answering, "No. It doesn't, but then again being a hunter isn't something necessarily genetic, it doesn't always run in the family."

I watch as Veronica gets up and moves closer to us so as to better join the conversation. "My sister and I are very green when it comes to all of this, I'm afraid we know nothing about hunters except for the fact that almost everyone dislikes them." She sticks out her hand, and the old woman simply stares at it, before my sister awkwardly withdraws it, "My name is Veronica Darling."

"I know who you are, we all do." She smiles at her, "My name is Elizabeth Grantbirch, but almost everyone just calls me gran. I'd love to share with you and anyone willing to listen, my knowledge of hunters." She turns to me and smiles; I can't help but to smile back.

"I suppose I should start at the beginning." She says.

"That would help." I remark and my sister jabs me in the side with my elbow, Mrs. Grantbirch chuckles before jumping into her tale.

"Hundreds of years ago," She begins, sounding like an ancient story teller, capturing the attention of everyone in the room immediately. "Well actually, they’ve been around much longer than that, just under a different name. They used to be called 'Capti A Animae' and they were killed almost immediately after they got the title."

"Capti A Animae literally means a trapped soul." My sister says absent mindedly. I simply turn and look at her with one arched eyebrow and she shrugs, "Remember the 7th grade? You learned how to bake and sew; I learned how to speak Latin." I shake my head at her and turn back to the old woman, to see her smiling.

"Sorry." I apologize for my sister's interruption, she just smiles a little wider and jumps back into the story.

"The title was given to anyone born of supernatural parents who could not release their life force energy in its true form." I just stared at her, trying to convey without words that I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. She chuckled once again, "Our life force energy is what makes us different, it is what gives fairies the ability to tune in to nature, what gives them the ability to fly, to manipulate an element. It is what gives vampires their thirst--"

Viviette cuts her off, "What do you mean? It gives vampires their thirst?"

"Vampires, do not have enough life force energy on their own, which is why they drink blood. They must take the energy of another to sustain themselves." Viviette's eyes start tearing up, and she looks down at her hands, "Do not feel bad dear, vampires are a real asset to the supernatural community."

Viviette's head snaps up, "Really?" she asks weakly.

"Yes, you help get rid of inferior beings who believe themselves better than everyone and everything on this planet." Gran smiles at her sweetly. Veronica and I, and I'm sure everyone else as well, do a double take on this small woman. "Anyways, as I was saying," She continues, "It is what gives Lycans and other shape shifters of all kinds, the ability to change form. It is a witch’s power; she expels it from her body to do her bidding, her strength depends on not only how much of it she has, but her control over it as well."

She turns and looks at Veronica and I directly, "Necromancers have the most of it, they give the dead some to bring them back to life, they also give a bit to ghosts so that everyone may see and communicate with them.” She pauses for a moment, “Necromancers are the living bridges between life and death." She looks at us a bit longer, as if to let some hidden message sink into us. Then she turns to address the whole room again, "I am sure you can figure out how it works in all of the other species as well. Correct?" A few murmured yea's and yes's ring out quietly through the room.

"Well then let us get back to the history of hunters." She takes a minute to think, to get back on track. "Capti A Animae did not become 'hunters' until the 1500's, the man who grew up to become the first hunter was born on February 5th, 1543. His parents were the rulers of all Lycan kind in the world, and being first born, he was the heir to the throne. He was loved and doted on by all; he was the perfect crown prince."

Do you see a twinkle in her eyes as she talks about him? Veronica asks me, and I subtly nod my head.

"On his 16th birthday in 1559, he stood in the courtyard, surrounded by his family and friends; the rulers of other supernatural beings. Any and every one."

“I think he has even more friends than me!” Priscilla says loudly from somewhere in the room, a small smile spreads across the woman’s face.

“Yes, I do believe he did sugar plum. “ She says in what I’m guessing is her general direction. “Everyone stood, surrounding