Scion

  by Kelly Oram

  Also by Kelly Oram

  Serial Hottie

  The Avery Shaw Experiment

  Cinder & Ella

  The Jamie Baker Series:

  Being Jamie Baker

  More Than Jamie Baker

  The V is for Virgin Series:

  V is for Virgin

  A is for Abstinence

  The Supernaturals Series:

  Chameleon

  Ungifted

  Scion

  Don’t miss the latest news from Kelly Oram. Sign up to receive e-mail notifications for all her new releases, events, sales, and giveaways. SUBSCRIBE.

  Published by Bluefields Creative

  Copyright © 2015 by Kelly Oram

  Edition 2.0

  Edited by Jennifer Henkes (www.literallyjen.com)

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  ISBN 978-0-9914579-8-4

  For Robin, Dee Dee, and Mel.

  Co-captains of Team Russ.

  “You think that’s it?” Ethan asked.

  I glanced around. The woods seemed extra peaceful now that dawn was finally starting to lighten things up. Even the birds were starting to sing. I didn’t like it. I’d seen enough horror movies to know better, and after the night we’d had? No way was I falling for it. I gripped my knives a little tighter in my hands. “Not a chance, brother.”

  Ethan sighed. He hadn’t really thought so, either; he was just hoping I might humor him.

  Somewhere to the left of us a branch snapped, and things went quiet. The birds quit chirping. The frogs quit croaking. Even the wind stopped rustling the trees.

  Dead silence.

  Ethan and I exchanged a glance. “What’s the plan?” he whispered.

  “Plan?” I hissed, nursing the stinging bite on my arm. It was beginning to turn a scary shade of gray.

  Zombies. A whole freaking army of them. Apparently those are real. Who knew? “How about get out of here with all my bits and pieces still intact? You think your dad can still heal my arm if it’s already rotted off?”

  “Would you quit whining, Russ?” Ethan grumbled. “I said I was sorry.”

  “You’re sorry? I was just snacked on by the undead. Next time, you’re the bait.”

  “Hopefully there won’t be a next time.”

  The crunching and snapping of branches got louder, and we both shut up. Ethan pointed, but he didn’t need to; I could see it—a strange, colorful haze glowing through the trees. “Dude,” I whispered. “Are zombie bites supposed to make you hallucinate? Because I’m pretty sure I didn’t eat mushrooms for breakfast, and it looks like somewhere over the rainbow out there.”

  Ethan blinked. His brow pulled low over his eyes, and he chucked a thumb toward the swirling blob of color. “You can see that?”

  Duh. Or I wouldn’t have said as much. “You can see it, too?”

  “Of course I can see it. I always see it.”

  I checked Ethan over from head to toe, but he was still all good—no visible zombie bites, so he wasn’t hallucinating. “What do you mean, you always see it? What is it?”

  “Supernatural energy.”

  Well, that didn’t make any sense. “You mean, I’m looking at someone’s aura?”

  Every supernatural has an essence—energy—that gives us our power. That energy gives us each an aura. Usually only fully-developed supernaturals can see others’ auras. I’m seventeen and supposedly super powerful, which means I should reach full development faster than average. But, thanks to my backstabbing, scheming father who neglected to train me growing up, I’d only been practicing for a few months.

  Good ol’ Dad also screwed up my aura, making me physically dependent on him and my friend Dani. Since I haven’t seen either of them in five months, I’ve been slowly getting weaker. So even though I’ve been training hard and learning a ton, the guy who’s been teaching me magic for the last five months didn’t think I’d recognize supernatural energy until I was closer to twenty—assuming I lived that long. If I managed to get home without turning into one of the undead today, my mentor was going to be excited.

  Ethan pulled me from my thoughts. “Someone powerful. That aura’s hella bright. Whoever that is, they’re freaking strong.”

  Ethan has been able to see auras since he was ten, because he’s a supernatural freak of nature. He’s the only guy on Earth with an actual angel for a father, and not just any angel: Michael—the fiercest, most powerful guy ever to exist since the beginning of time.

  Aside from my magic training, Michael’s been training Ethan and me to be warriors, which is seriously cool. Or, it was until last night, when Ethan whined that we never got to fight anything real when we trained. As a result, Michael sent us on an assignment that usually only angels handle.

  FYI? One of an angel’s duties includes keeping humans safe from demons. That’s right: actual demons. Every now and then, one of the lesser demons finds a way to escape the underworld and wreaks havoc on Earth.

  Apparently some demon escaped the underworld and chose to raise an entire cemetery of undead, hoping to create a zombie apocalypse. When Michael sent us on this “training exercise,” he told us to take out all the zombies before any humans learned of their existence. At the time, Ethan and I both thought the assignment was awesome. We were excited. Now—after spending the last six hours in Night Of The Living Dead, and as my arm rotted off—not so much.

  “Perfect,” I grumbled. That powerful ball of energy was probably the moron demon that thought it’d be fun to unleash a hundred zombies in a Virginia state park. “Your turn to go in first.”

  Just as I gave Ethan a shove, the dark shape in the middle of the aura came into focus, and a girl tumbled out of the trees. She looked confused, and definitely not undead. She was smoking hot. Probably a good thing she wasn’t a zombie, because if she wanted to nibble on me for a while I might let her. When Ethan started toward her, I shot a hand out to block him. I gave him a smirk the size of Texas and said, “Never mind. I got this.”

  Ethan shook his head, chuckling, and waved his hand, allowing me to be the knight in shining armor. Not that I was really interested in the girl, but I do love getting to play the hero.

  “Hello?” the girl called out.

  Her voice shook, as if she was scared out of her mind. Good thing Russ Devereaux was here to get her to safety. I took a few steps, until Ethan realized something and stopped me. “Russ, hold up.”

  I frowned back at him. “What? She looks harmless.”

  “She’s a necromancer.”

  “Yeah, I figured that out. Cool, huh? I’ve never actually met one.”

  I took another step, and this time Ethan grabbed me by the arm, laughing. “As impressed as I am that you’ve earned your big-boy pants and can see auras now, I need you to stop thinking with those pants.”

  “What? She’s not a demon. She’s just a necro.”

  “Yeah…and powerful necros can raise the dead.”

  I didn’t get it. Should have. But I didn’t. I totally blame it on fatigue from our all-night zombie killing spree.

  “Raising the dead…,” Ethan hinted. “Zombies…?”

  Crap. I shoved Ethan forward. “I take it back. It is your turn to go in first.”

  Ethan snorted. “Baby.”

  I shrugged. I’m
man enough to admit that Ethan is totally the Batman in our dynamic duo, and I’m his Robin. “Whatever, dude. You’re the suped-up angel. You’re built for getting up close and personal with nasty stuff. Magic is a ranged skill, best used from a distance.”

  Ethan laughed again but didn’t argue. He knew I was right, just like I knew that even though he was teasing me, he’d never let me go in first. He knew I was seriously low on supernatural mojo. My shield spell crapping out on me because I’d been using magic all night was the reason I’d ended up as zombie chow a few minutes ago.

  Not wanting to think about how much I sucked lately, I clamped my hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. I doubt she’ll be too tough, now that we’ve killed all her minions. But she did raise an army of zombies, so she’s got to be total crazy-town. I’d watch my back, if I were you.”

  Ethan rolled his eyes and slowly began to approach the Mistress of the Undead. “How’s it going?” he called to her from about ten feet away.

  “I—I don’t know where I am.” Stumbling toward Ethan with her arms wrapped tightly around her body, she looked at the forest around her and began to cry. “I can’t remember how I got here. Please.” She sniffled. “Can you help me?”

  I admit it, the tears were convincing. I’d have gone to her, too.

  Ethan sheathed his daggers and closed the distance between them. “Sure. My friend and I can take you home.”

  Once Ethan was spitting distance from her, he held out his hand. “Do you know what happened? Do you know where you live? Who you are?”

  Grabbing Ethan’s wrist, the girl stopped crying and smiled a very disjointed, unnatural smile. “I know who you are,” she hissed.

  Ethan gasped when she touched him and tried to pull away but, impossibly, her grip was too strong. Nothing should be stronger than Ethan. Especially not some five-foot-six hundred-pound necro babe.

  “What the?” I said, just as Ethan collapsed.

  The girl let out a piercing shriek and brandished a huge blade. “Die, angel filth!”

  Running as fast as I could, I hit her with every last ounce of magic I had in me. When I was at full power, the knockback spell I threw at her could be lethal, but now I just prayed it would distract her enough to give Ethan the upper hand. It turned out to be a good thing that there wasn’t much kick to my spell, because before the blow hit her, she raised her hands and somehow sent my own magic rushing back at me.

  “Oh, crap!” The spell hit me hard enough to send me crashing backward into the trunk of a tree. I dropped like a fly, but at least I’d done my job. Ethan was back on his feet. By the time I could breathe again, Ethan and the necro were engaged in a battle that was way out of my league on my best day. She was as strong and as fast as he was. She couldn’t fly but she could jump, and they moved together so quickly they were almost a blur. I’d never seen anything like it.

  Groaning, I pulled myself to my feet and watched them go at it. Ethan already looked tired. He wouldn’t last forever, so it was up to me to help him. The question was how? I didn’t have the physical abilities they had. If I jumped into that fight, I’d just get myself killed. I was going to have to use my magic if I wanted to do anything besides stand there and look pretty, but I just plum didn’t have any left.

  “So,” I called out to Ethan, “not your average necro, then?”

  “Possessed!” he shouted back as he ducked her swinging blade again and again. “We found our demon!”

  “Possessed. Right.” Should have realized that. When Michael said demon, I just assumed horns and a tail, you know? My bad.

  What to do? I couldn’t help him fight her, and I had no magic left. But I couldn’t just stand here, do nothing, and let a demon kill my best friend. As I stood there trying to think of another solution and cursing myself for being completely useless, I felt something brand new to me. It was a strange kind of foreign magic, neither witch nor warlock. It was something else, something much, much darker. It was sinister, and ancient, and rolling off the possessed girl in intense waves.

  I’d heard tales of demon magic, but I hadn’t thought it actually existed. Of course, I’d always thought zombies weren’t real, either. Guess I was 0 for 2 today. Hopefully my luck was about to change.

  I took a chance and began to soak up as much of that demon junk as I could. I figured if the demon got here using demon magic, I had a much better chance of sending it back with the stuff.

  Though the magic was intense, I could control it. It was surprisingly easy—almost as if using this demon magic came more naturally to me than using my own warlock magic. I immediately cast a binding spell, capturing the demon. “Hang on,” I shouted when Ethan lifted his knife to put the thing out of its misery. “Let me try to get rid of it without killing the girl.”

  Ethan blinked at me and took a small step back, chest heaving with exhaustion. “How are you doing that? I thought you were out of juice.”

  I pointed at the girl. “It’s hers. I’m just borrowing it.”

  I wasn’t sure that was completely true, though. I was pulling her magic to me, but I also felt as if it was coming from inside me, too. The second I touched it, I felt its power take hold of me, and some part of me responded to it. Like I’d somehow been awakened by it. I felt incredible—more powerful than I’d ever been in my life. Score one for the Russmeister.

  The demon pulled me out of my revelry, snarling in a voice that sounded more serpent than human. “How can a mortal wield the master’s power?”

  I shrugged. “Beats me. But I bet I can use it to send you back to him.”

  The demon screeched an unearthly squeal that made Ethan fall to the ground and grab his head. When blood began trickling from his eardrums, I quit dinking around and concentrated as hard as I could on thoughts of Hell. Shoving with all my strength, I sent a tidal wave of demon magic at the girl. I imagined that wave rushing over her, catching only the dark creature inside her, and dragging it into oblivion. Seconds later, the noise stopped and the girl’s body fell to the ground. I hurried over, nudging Ethan with my toe as I passed him. “You dead?”

  “Not quite,” he groaned. “Is she?”

  Luckily, she had a pulse. “Just sleeping it off, it looks like. But the demon is definitely gone.”

  Ethan moaned again. “Dude, my head. What was that?”

  “That was the sound of pure evil,” a voice said from behind us.

  I turned around to see the angel Michael appraising me curiously, and shook my head. “Now he shows.”

  Michael smirked. “You asked for the chance to prove yourselves.”

  Technically, it was Ethan who’d asked for a challenge, but I didn’t think it was smart to argue with a guy who looked dangerous even though he was wearing a skirt.

  “So…did we pass?” I asked.

  Michael studied me a minute longer, then smiled. “With flying colors.”

  The smile was too big. He was hiding something. Before I could call him on it, he turned to Ethan. “Are you all right, son?”

  Ethan winced as I helped him get up. “I feel like someone took a sledgehammer to my brain, but I’ll live.”

  “I’m sorry about that.” Michael flashed him an apologetic smile. “I would have warned you, but you needed to know what it feels like. The sound of pure evil is a demon’s most powerful weapon against us. We can counter it by singing in our native language—the sound of pure goodness.”

  “Gee, that might help, if I actually knew how to speak Angelic.”

  Michael grinned.

  Amazing. Ethan is the only being that can get away with spouting sarcasm to the Destroying Angel. Well, him, and maybe me. Not to brag or anything, but Michael totally loves me.

  “I’ll teach you,” Michael told Ethan. “But like I said, you needed to feel the demon’s wrath once in order to truly know what you’re up against.”

  “I couldn’t beat it,” Ethan admitted suddenly.

  Michael smiled again, but this time it was a little pitying. �
�I didn’t expect you to. You’ve come far, but there is still a lot left for you to learn. Even after you reach your full potential, defeating demons will be difficult. I was seconds away from stepping in.”

  Ouch. Ethan looked crushed, the poor sucker. I don’t even want to know how much it sucks having to live up to the freaking Archangel Michael as your father. Talk about impossible standards. Then again, my father is a psycho demon-raising murderer, and living down his reputation is no picnic, either.

  Michael placed his hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “You are not a full angel, son, but you are strong. All angels go through a trial similar to this, and you lasted longer than half of them. I’m very proud of you.”

  “So, wait.” There was something about all this, and the way Michael kept looking at me, that I found very unnerving. “If not even Ethan was supposed to beat that thing, then how did I do it? Why didn’t that banshee squeal have me on the ground ripping out patches of my hair, too?”

  Michael hesitated, and then decided to tell me what he was really thinking. “It is curious. The cry of a demon is much more effective on angels than mortals because of our purity, but you should not have been entirely immune to it.”

  “And?” I asked when he paused again.

  “And you should not have been able to feel demon magic, much less use it.” He frowned. “Can you feel that magic now? Can you use it still?”

  I searched, but there was no trace of the demon magic. The connection I’d felt to it was gone. I shook my head. “Nope. I guess it disappeared when I sent that monster back to the underworld.”

  Michael’s brow knit together as he continued to stare at me. His penetrating gaze was unnerving, so I broke the uncomfortable silence. “What does it mean, that I could use demon magic? Am I not mortal or something?” My stomach churned. “Am I a demon? Am I possessed? Did that freaking zombie give me its demon cooties?” I shivered at the thought. “Get it out of me, dude. Get it out of me now.”

  Michael studied me with a giant frown on his face and shook his head. “Relax, Russ. You are not possessed. There is nothing demonic about you, but there must be something different about you. You’ve done the impossible. I’ll have to consult with the Creator on the matter.”