The Vaga

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Authors: S. A. Carter

BOOK: The Vaga
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Copyright © 2015 by S. A. Carter

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the website below.

Author/Publisher: S. A. Carter
www.sa-carter.com

Cover design by Creative Paramita

Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

The Vaga/S. A. Carter – 1st ed.
ISBN: 978-1502741585

 

 

 

 

 

FOR MY BEAUTIFUL MOTHER,
WITH GRATITUDE AND LOVE.

 

 

 

 


She who is Mother, who is of pure blood, shall be the bearer of humanity. She will forge a new world, and upon it she will bring forth the Light
.”

 

The Kuthun

Table of Contents

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

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 1

Gritting my teeth, I will my legs to pump harder. My
lungs burn with the effort, the roar of the crowd propelling me forward. All my training up until this point has strengthened my body, making my legs strong and my body agile. I round the last bend, knowing that there’ll be a fight to the end. They all want this as much as I do. I dig deep and gain a few feet before feeling that my main rival, Jessica Hunt, is closing in.

The sound of panting is close and I know that she is hot on my heels, gaining on me. I use whatever I have left to spur myself forward. Out of the corner of my eye her body comes into view. I stay focused, my eyes on the finishing line, but she stays with me. Our ongoing battle continues towards the last few remaining metres. The crowd is up on their feet, shouting madly. Their faces blur as we race past.

We cross the finish line together.

The crowd is cheering, but the adrenaline buzzing in my ears drowns out the sound. Putting my head between my legs I take long, deep breaths.

‘Hey, good race,’ Rhianna says, patting me on the back.

‘Thanks,’ I exhale, slowly standing up. ‘You too.’

On the other side of the track Jessica is walking around in circles trying to get her breath back. She gives me a smug look and nods her head in my direction. I don’t like to think about hurting another person, but sometimes her face just makes me want to punch something…
hard
!

Returning the nod, I look back towards the time keepers who are talking amongst themselves, comparing their sheets. My nerves are on edge waiting for the results, hoping that my efforts were enough to qualify for first place. I’ve been working towards this moment for two years, and a win would award me a track and field scholarship that would help pay my remaining college tuition.

While we wait I look up into the stands and see Uncle Jo waving at me, my faithful and protective dog Magi at his side. I smile and wave back. Magi sends me an image of her jumping around madly and a laugh escapes me.

Ever since the events of four years ago, that saw my life threatened by my ancient enemy the Puritans, Magi and I have been able to communicate telepathically. My pulse quickens remembering how close I was to losing her, and how close I was to nearly losing myself.

The loud speaker crackles to life, knocking me out of my reverie. ‘The winner of the women’s four hundred metres track event, breaking a new college record time of 51.64 seconds, is…’

Palms sweating and heart racing I send out a silent prayer.

‘Elena Cole!’

I shriek with joy. The other athletes come up to congratulate me, hugs and words of encouragement follow, but I notice with disappointment that Jessica isn’t among them.

I eventually make my way towards the grandstand where Uncle Jo is waiting. He wraps his strong arms around me. ‘I’m so proud of you, Ellie,’ he whispers into my hair. ‘Your aunt would be proud of you too.’

‘Thanks,’ I say gratefully. Magi is standing up on the barricade, her tail wagging furiously. I gently pull away from him and turn to her. ‘Hey, Mags.’ Wrapping my arms around her furry neck I inhale her familiar juniper-scented aroma.

‘Don’t forget me!’ Phoebe calls out as she pushes herself through the crowd to get to me, almost knocking over an elderly man in the process. ‘Sorry, Pops,’ she says as she passes him.

Shaking my head, I smile.

‘Damn girl, you were flying!’ she says as she grabs me in a vice-like hug.

‘Phoebs…can’t breathe…’ I mumble.

‘Oops, sorry, E,’ she says, taking a step back. I notice Sam is peering over her shoulder at me.

‘Hey, Sam,’ I say, watching his hand fall onto Phoebe’s shoulder, his leather-beaded bracelet catching my eye again.

The intricate detail and colour of the beads always manages to mesmerise me. He once told me that it was a gift from his grandmother. When he lived on the Indian reservation she would make them for the children as protection against evil spirits.

As a witch, maybe that’s why I’m drawn to it. I sense its magic.

He stares at me strangely for a moment, which is something he does a little too often, and then says, ‘Hey, Ellie. Nice run.’

Phoebe looks up at him with adoring brown eyes and beams her gap-toothed smile his way.

‘Thanks,’ I say as I watch them share a look. A flutter of jealousy finds its way into my stomach.

Phoebe and Sam have been dating for three months now and I have never seen her happier. Sam is tall, good looking, in an off-beat kind of way, with a friendly but somewhat guarded demeanour. His dark hair is always pulled back in a small ponytail at the nape of his neck, highlighting the high planes of his cheekbones and adding to his artistic sex appeal. At least, that’s what Phoebe says. Which is fitting actually, seeing as they met in art history class right here on campus. He also treats Phoebe really well, and is the complete opposite of her preferred bad boy type.

An image of Julian suddenly flashes through my mind. The last time we met was in a battle for survival. My enemy and I facing off under the light of the moon. Although he wasn’t the only enemy that I fought against that night; I had also battled against the darkness within myself.

A shiver runs up my spine, remembering the event as if it happened only yesterday.

The Venator steps out of the gloom to face me. Both of us standing on either end of the earthen grove. His body is taught and hard, ready to strike. His face is contorted in anger, yet for just an instant I catch a glimpse of something that looks like…desire. The look vanishes before I can make sense of it.

‘So what now?’ Uncle Jo asks.

I shake myself from the past. It’s been four years already, why do I keep going there?

‘Uh, I’m not sure. I think this qualifies me for State, and it definitely got me the scholarship, which is amazing!’

‘Yeah it’s amazing,’ Phoebe responds. ‘Not to mention the fact that you also smashed the track record. All those years of running have paid off.’ Her eyes widen in surprise as she realises what she has said. ‘I mean…you’re financially covered until the end of your degree. That in itself is incredible.’

She glances nervously at Uncle Jo. He frowns slightly.

I nod. ‘Yeah it is. Thanks, Phoebs,’ I say, knowing how much this scholarship will help Aunt Lily and Uncle Jo as well.

‘Sorry to interrupt,’ Rhianna says from behind me, ‘but we’re getting ready for the podium, Ellie.’

‘Oh right, thanks.’ I move away from the barricade and look at Uncle Jo. ‘I’ll meet you for lunch at the cafe in a bit okay?’

I turn and head towards the podium, only taking a few steps before freezing in place, my sixth sense going into overdrive. I never get used to the feeling.

Someone is watching me.

‘Ellie, what’s wrong?’ Uncle Jo calls out.

I turn around quickly, searching the grandstand, keeping my senses alert.

‘Ellie!’

My eyes move over the faces in the crowd, unable to detect the exact location of the presence.

I slow my breathing and tune into the Cole blood flowing through my veins. My body reacts to the rush of power. I keep searching, my magic pulling me towards the far outer stands, where I catch a faint glimpse of a face I thought I would never see again.

My breath catches in my throat as my eyes take in his features—the strong curve of his chin, the slightly crooked slope of his nose, his defined cheekbones that frame the contours of his face.

No
!
It couldn’t be
.

The steel grey eyes staring back at me hold secrets untold and a warning sounds out within me

Magi’s bark jolts me back into the present. My head whips in her direction, just as Uncle Jo is about to leap over the fence. I hold my hand up to him, letting him know I’m alright, and he pauses. His face is etched with concern, but he loosens his grip on the barricade and looks back up into the stands.

Following his gaze, I find that the face that was standing amongst the crowd only a moment ago, the face that I have dreamt about for the last four years, is no longer there.

A range of emotions assault my body. Was it really him? If he’s here then something big is happening. The letter that he gave me, the letter that I have read countless times over the years, permeates my mind:

I have told my people that you are dead. They have taken me at my word. I do not believe that they will bother you again. Although I would ask that you remain cautious nonetheless, as we are not the only organisation in the world threatened by power such as yours.

If Julian is here, then whatever it is can’t be good.

‘E! Are you okay?’ Phoebe yells out.

Forcing a smile I say, ‘Yep. All good. I’ll see you guys in a bit.’ I turn to go but not before I catch Sam watching me warily. What is his problem?

Rhianna nudges me in the ribs. ‘Don’t mind my cousin. She’s just pissed that you beat her…again.’ She gives me a wry smile.

Jessica is standing on the podium next to me with a scowl from hell plastered across her face. The three of us have been in this position many times before. Coach Fergus says we are like the
Three Stooges
—I always wonder which one he thinks is Larry?

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