The Destined Read online

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Title

  Quote

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Tome of the Elders

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Tome of the Elders

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Acknowledgments

  Also by EJ Mellow

  About the Author

  The Destined

  Copyright © 2016 E.J. Mellow

  Kindle Edition

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical article and reviews. Making or distributing electronic copies of this book constitutes copyright infringement and could subject the infringer to criminal and civil liability.

  Published by Four Eyed Owl, Village Station PO Box #204, New York, NY 10014

  Editing by Dori Harrell

  Cover Design by E.J. Mellow

  Cover Photography by Dmitry Laudin

  E-book ISBN 978-0-9962114-4-4

  For Dan.

  I wouldn’t have gotten to the end if you weren’t there from the beginning.

  We grow accustom to the dark

  When light is put away.

  —Emily Dickinson

  — 1 —

  I searched for you in the stars tonight.

  But I found none

  that burned as bright as you.

  —Part of a letter from Dev to Molly

  The voices haven’t stopped all day. They are incessant, loud, and filled with terrible things. But I can’t stop listening, inviting them to talk, craving them to. The news they bring is a reminder of what I need to get back for, what awaits helpless on the other side of my subconscious.

  My vision blurs as I lie on my bed and watch the female anchor drone on and on, the TV’s ghoulish glow filling my room in sickly flashes. Another shooting, another terrorist threat, another disgusting act carried out by the hands of humans. Does any part of them enjoy it? Or is it really all from the nightmares that infect them in their dreams? My stomach twists into an achy knot, a constant pain I’ve grown to live with over the weeks. Tucking my legs into my chest, I crinkle my nose as another thing I’ve grown accustomed to floats by.

  Something is dying in my apartment.

  I’m pretty sure of it. There’s that sour I should have taken the garbage out two weeks ago stench. Something isn’t right.

  I should check to see if it’s the trash. If my legs worked, I’d definitely check.

  Too bad they don’t.

  They stopped working around the same time my appetite decided to skedaddle, which was around the same time my will to live flew the coop. It sounds a bit dramatic, but lately I’ve been on the dramatic side. When your only hope in life is torn away, you tend to act a little nutty. Anyone who says otherwise can go shove their head in my garbage.

  Buzz. Buzz. Buzzzzz.

  My doorbell rings, but it does little to stir me from my spot. Whoever it is, they’ve been relentless tonight. Ringing every few minutes. Can’t they tell no one is home?

  Ignoring them, I return my attention to the TV while rhythmically rubbing the concave dip of the wooden spoon I hold. It’s been a weird security blanket since it was given to me, its presence bringing up happier memories. Did he hold it the same way as I do now? Did his skin brush against the same area?

  Buzzzz. Buzzzzzzzzz.

  “Hush.” I glare at my intercom, and to my relief the incessant ringing finally stops, the hum of the news once again the only backdrop to my thoughts. Settling into my sheets, I drape the spoon across my face and close my eyes. What I wouldn’t give to be back in Terra this very moment eating with it. With him…

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  I jerk up, and the utensil drops into my lap. My gaze fixes to my front door as it rattles again, the pounding of someone’s fist. “I know you’re in there,” booms a deep voice. “And I take no issue breaking this down if you don’t let me in.”

  Great, someone else in my building must have buzzed him in. I purse my lips. Don’t they know that’s dangerous?

  “Molly, you have exactly five seconds to get your butt off of whatever depressed nest you’ve created for yourself today and open up.”

  My fingers dig into my comforter, and I glance around my apartment. Nothing in here is the least bit useful for getting me out of my current predicament. Another loud thump makes me jump.

  “One,” the man bellows. Thump. “Two.”

  “For Christ’s sake,” I mutter and stumble out of bed.

  “Three…” Thump. “Four.”

  I hurry to remove the chain.

  “Five!”

  I swing my door open just as Rae’s fist is about to come down again. He pulls up short.

  “I do have neighbors, you know.” I scowl before turning and walking into my kitchen. He follows as I fetch a glass of water. His blond hair is pulled into a low bun tonight, and his dark skin is made darker under the dim lighting. The clothing he wears is black, always black, and I’ve begun to resent the color, for it forever reminds me of there…of him. I watch quietly as my Vigil protector’s jaw tightens and his nose wrinkles, taking in my space. Clothes litter every inch, and from what little food I’ve been able to consume, take-out bags are scattered in odd corners.

  “Trying to break a world record for dirtiest living conditions?” he asks as his narrowed golden eyes flicker my way. Rae’s part of a race in Terra that interacts with Dreamers in their awake states as sort of guardian angels to their destinies. He also happens to be dating my best friend, Becca, even though she has no clue about this side of his or my life.

  “Redecorating,” I say and lean against my counter.

  “Sure.” He smacks my TV off, and my world suddenly drowns in silence.

  “Hey, I was watching that!”

  Rae ignores me as he pokes the various papers spread out on my bed, all things Dev and I are able to exchange through a small demutation box that can travel through Terra’s portal. Finding the wooden spoon among the mess, Rae picks it up and cocks a brow.

  I take quick steps forward and snatch it from his hand, cradling it against my chest.

  “He’s been giving you these to help you, not make you worse.” He eyes the mess of notes entwined in my sheets before glancing to what I hold.

  “It is helping.”

&nb
sp; “Yeah, helping you get committed,” he says, bending to gather the letters.

  “No!” I jump onto my bed and drape my body over them, the paper crinkling under my weight. “They’re mine.”

  Rae sighs. “Molly, enough. I’ve let you wallow for a month now. You have to enter the real world.”

  “Why?”

  “Because this amount of self-pitying is beneath you.” He tries rolling me away, but I grasp the mattress more firmly. “You’ve been wearing the same clothes since Sunday, I’m pretty sure you haven’t brushed your hair since then, and you smell.” He tugs on my legs.

  “So what? It’s not like I have a job I need to be presentable for anymore.”

  It was nearly impossible to fake any semblance of normalcy after what happened with Aaron, whom I’d known as Dr. Marshall. Yes, that Dr. Marshall who first treated me when I got hit by lightning. He’d revealed himself as the twin brother of Aurora and the Vigil everyone thought dead after his partner, Anebel, died by the hands of the Metus. The partner he loved and who also happened to be Dev’s girlfriend at the time. Soap opera–worthy conundrum, I know.

  When he stabbed the Conscious blade in my gut, he severed my ability to travel to Terra while I slept. My world was now dreamless, a dark void, basically my life before the storm. So after a week of failing to show up or answer any calls or e-mails at my day job, I was canned from the marketing firm. It honestly took longer than I thought it would for Jim to drop the ax, but there’s no part of me now—just like there wasn’t then—that cares. My motto these days.

  “Exactly.” Rae grunts as he dodges one of my kicks. “So now you have even more time to train and stay in shape.”

  “For what?” I try fighting his grasp, but he latches on to my ankles and drags me off the bed. I hit the floor with a hard thump. “Ow!”

  “I hope that hurt enough to knock some sense into you.” He glares down at me. “Now don’t make me do something cliché like force you into the shower with all your clothes on.”

  “Geez, you’ve been hanging around Becca too much.” I rub my sore butt.

  “Speaking of, I’ll gladly call her over to help.”

  “No!” I hold up a hand. “I’ll friggin take a shower.”

  Rae’s smile is smug. “I’ll get your running clothes.”

  “Swell,” I mutter as I lift myself from the floor.

  Walking to my bathroom, I slam the door and lean over my sink, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My usually lively brown eyes have dulled from the addition of dark circles that now rim them, and my skin is paler than normal, while my hair, well, let’s just say stray dogs look better than I do. I pull at my stretched-out pajamas. What would Dev say if he saw me like this? The familiar ache blossoms in my stomach. How I miss the sound of his voice, his crooked grin…

  Abruptly an image of his panicked blue gaze flashes before me, his fingers digging into my shoulders. Don’t go! Please make it stop! The memory of his desperate plea before I drifted from his world, our world, haunts me, and I bite my lower lip as a throb pinches the corners of my eyes. They want to cry, but I used up all my tears a week ago. Now everything’s just hollow, phantom sensations of what it once was like to feel.

  Where am I supposed to go from here? What’s my purpose?

  Only three days after that horrible night, Rae forced me out of bed, just like now, insistent on maintaining our rigorous work-out routine. And I’m not sure if it’s been for my benefit or for his—each of us searching for a way to deal with what happened and stay afloat in a quickly drowning hope. He says the Vigil are working on ways to bring me back, that no one is giving up, and neither should I. And I get this need for his conviction, I really do. My letters to Dev are filled with positivity, a carefully woven facade meant to mask my actual growing despair, because I can’t escape my reality. I’ve been shut out, my connection to my other life severed, and I can’t help feeling like I’m merely waiting on who will be my replacement. I’m not even sure if that’s how it works, but the violence has only gotten worse in both Terra and Earth. A Dreamer is needed, and I don’t know how much longer either world can wait to see if it will be me.

  — 2 —

  I went into your room today.

  Your indentation is still in the sheets,

  teasing me,

  as if you’ll be right back.

  —Part of a letter from Dev to Molly

  Beads of sweat drip into my eyes, and I wipe them away as I lean over to catch my breath, my legs shaking from pushing them too far.

  “That was one of your better times.” Rae reads the stats on his watch, and I glare up at him, annoyed by his ability to never show an ounce of exhaustion after our runs. His black T-shirt barely holds any perspiration, while mine could fill a bucket if I wrung it out. We tracked a good five miles along the West Side park, a run and bike path that overlooks the Hudson River. It’s our usual route that starts up by the USS Intrepid, passes Chelsea Piers, Battery Park, and ends with a view of the Statue of Liberty. The Lady is currently lit bright against the dark sky, a green beacon, and a lazy breeze softens the summer air. It’s a perfect night for a run, and mostly all of Manhattan knows it, the path a flowing sea of bodies. Rae moves us off to the side to stretch under one of the lampposts that are evenly placed along the route, and the yellow glow highlights the sinew of muscles along his arms. I catch a few lingering stares from female admirers as they jog past.

  “So you’re seeing Becca tonight?” I lift my leg to the railing, massaging the tense muscle and watching the water lap rhythmically.

  “Yeah, we’re supposed to get dinner later. Wanna come?”

  “Nope.”

  Rae’s brows pinch in.

  “I love you both,” I explain, “but I’m not really in the mood to see you staring all lovey-dovey at one another other while I pretend like I’m not the third wheel.”

  “That was once,” Rae says.

  “Once too many.” I switch to my other leg.

  “So what will you do after this then?” Rae reties his hair into a bun. It’s grown long since I’ve known him.

  “The usual.”

  “Which is?”

  “Just…the usual.”

  “Yeah, no.” He shakes his head. “I’m going to tell him to stop sending you notes if they’re going to turn you into a looney goon.”

  I raise a brow. “You mean, Looney Tune?”

  “Is that the one with twiddle bird?”

  “Tweety—ugh, never mind.” I wave my hand dismissively. “I get your point, but please don’t. They’re all I have, Rae. The only things that…” I can’t finish my sentence.

  “I know,” he says softly, placing an arm around me. “I would never actually. I just don’t like seeing you like this. Either of you.”

  I frown. “How’s he been?”

  Rae seems to think over his words. “He’s been…dedicated.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “Let’s just say, Dev’s found a way to best exercise his need for revenge.”

  That doesn’t sound good, and I’m about to ask for more specifics, when something in the distance catches Rae’s attention, and he squints.

  “Is that Jared?”

  “What?” My head whips up as my stomach drops.

  “It is.” Rae starts waving at a man in exercise clothes looking in our direction. I quickly pull it down.

  “What are you doing?!”

  “I’m trying to say hi.”

  I duck behind him. “Why?”

  “Molly, what’s wrong with you?” He swivels so I’m in view again. “I thought you guys were on good terms.”

  “Yeah, but I look like a drowned porcupine. No one wants to run into their ex after a workout!”

  “Well, it doesn’t matter anymore, because he’s gone now.” Rae motions toward the path. “Wow, kind of rude of him not to come over.”

  “Or completely generous.” I smooth back loose strands of hair that fell from my ponytail. I
haven’t spoken or seen Jared since the night of Becca’s birthday, and running into him right now is the absolute last thing I can handle.

  There’s a beep from Rae’s phone, and he pulls it from his armband, his expression growing serious as he reads some message. “Guess I’m not going to dinner with Becca after all.”

  “Why?”

  “Because there’s someone you have to meet.”

  “What, now?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But I’m all sweaty.” I glance to my saggy T-shirt and shorts. “Can’t this wait until tomorrow?”

  Rae’s eyes find mine. “No, I really think you’ll want to meet her now.”

  —∞—

  My head tilts up as we pull in front of a tall office building that fills an entire block in Midtown, the dark facade of steel and glass lit by fluorescent lighting shining through a multitude of windows. This part of the city is always a cement wasteland after work hours, the sidewalks empty, the popular restaurant chains closed, as if all who inhabit it during the day willingly rushed away to forget its existence, if only for a few hours—the visual definition of a nine to five.

  Paying the cab, Rae and I walk to a door that rests on the side of the main glass entrance, and I peer into the empty immaculate lobby as he removes a key card from his pocket.

  “Been here before?” I ask as he slides it through a reader and a small green light flashes on.

  He holds the door open for me. “A few times.”

  Our footsteps echo in the large space, and I turn in a circle, gazing up to the ten floors that are visible from the interior.

  Rae stops at a long receptionist desk, where a security guard with thinning brown hair and a neglected paunch glances up from his magazine. The name Vita Corp hangs in flawless metal behind him.

  “Hey, Carl,” Rae greets the man. “Dr. Jin tell you she was expecting us?”