Humanity 02 - Raven Flames

Humanity – Interval 2: Raven Flames

By: Corrine Shroud

ISBN: 978-1-877546-77-8

All rights reserved

Cover Art Copyright © Apr 2010, Brightling
Spur

Bluewood Publishing Ltd

Christchurch, 8441, New Zealand

www.bluewoodpublishing.com

Names, characters and incidents depicted in
this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales,
organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental
and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

No part of this e-book may be reproduced or
shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not
limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written
permission from Bluewood Publishing Ltd.

Smashword Edition – License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal
enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to
other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another
person, please purchase another copy for each person you share it
with. If you’re reading this book, and did not purchase it, or it
was not purchased for your own use only, then you should return to
Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting
the hard work of the author.

Interval Two of HUMANITY

Raven Flames

Michael Parlinn drummed a tuneless
beat against his steering wheel as his father drew a sharp intake
of breath.

“
This quickly?”

“
She was amazingly simple.
Much less difficult than her father was.” His voice was perfectly
blank, no inflections. Empty.

“
How many?”

“
As many as we can. She
may have been easily led, but she’s powerful.”

“
Every one?” Michael could
hear the frown in his father’s voice. “We didn’t bring everyone for
Gauthier.”

Michael cleared his voice. “Mirage
is…different. I dunno what it is, but she’s unsettling. I’d feel
safer if everyone came.”

“
Her father was powerful
as well, but they all die the same.” The vicious tone twisted in
his voice almost made Michael shiver. “I’ll trust your judgment.
I’ll call Taylur and he’ll get a hold of the others.”

Michael hung up without a response. He
shut the phone and threw it into the seat beside him. He sighed and
returned his attention to the road. It had begun to spurt rain,
promising the storm that the weatherman had predicted for the
night. The storm would help cover them as they surrounded the home;
it would affect Mirage’s sensing abilities. It would be too late by
the time she realized his deception.

Michael continued on his
drive home. His father would contact everyone he needed to; there
was no more need of him until tonight. Until then, he’d go home and
take a shower. Maybe
that
would get rid of this odd feeling that had
settled over his shoulders. It was a weight, something he didn’t
understand. Was it that different essence he’d told his father
about? Was Mirage really that unusual?

He just
couldn’t
shake that
feeling he had. Something big was going to happen tonight. He gave
himself a small mental shake as he turned the windshield wipers
on.
Get a grip
,
he commanded quietly.

Michael couldn’t get Mirage’s midnight
eyes out of his head.

“
She’s a Dark Child!” His
anger-filled voice echoed through his truck, and that helped steady
his shaking hands that gripped the steering wheel. God, what was
wrong with him? Mirage wouldn’t be the first he’d helped HUMANITY
kill, and she would most certainly not be the last. If it came to
him being the one to kill her, he wouldn’t hesitate.

His father was the
Monarch, the leader of the Humanitarians, and he was being
conditioned to follow in his footsteps. The thought made Michael
grimace. Though his ancestor was Nathanial Parlinn, he’d never had
the taste for murder. Damn if he wasn’t good at it, but it still
wasn’t something he enjoyed. Still, it didn’t particularly
bother
him. The
abominations were God’s one mistake and it was the humans’ job to
eradicate them. His father had pounded the knowledge into him since
before he could walk. Everything about them was beastly and alien,
and Mirage was no different. Even with that knowledge, he knew this
particular Dark Child would haunt his dreams for the rest of his
life. He cringed at what she was…and yet, he couldn’t stop that
small seed of guilt that settled into the pit of his stomach.
Mirage had trusted him, and she was nice—risking everything to help
him. She would have made a good human.

But she’s not
human
, Michael thought a little bitterly.
She was a Dark Child, a banished Dark Child at that. There would be
no one to miss her, even in her own tribe, when she was killed
tonight. He kept telling himself that as he drove home, and he
almost managed to convince himself. Almost. There was still the
nagging feeling in the back of his mind, an unsung thought from his
subconscious that he couldn’t shake.

Michael shrugged to
himself as he thought about his assignment tonight. He tried to be
an honest person to himself; if he had to lie to everyone then the
only one he
could
be honest with was himself. It was a small comfort that he
was allowed. He at least had one person to trust...

The Altruistics were
seeking to disband HUMANITY, citing the violent ‘hate’ crimes his
group was responsible for. Did it matter that deep down he agreed?
Hell, no it didn’t. He was condemned by his blood into this life,
and he would live the way HUMANITY needed him to. There was no one
else to keep the Paramortals at bay. If he wanted the group to
continue, he would keep silent about who he really was. Sure, he
would be sorry, but that didn’t change his convictions. He was the
only defense humans had against their greatest enemy—sentient
beings who had
no
right to share the earth that God had ensured for the
creations made in His image.

His ancestor, Nathanial Parlinn, had
chosen his path, and his family had followed; it was all Michael
knew. It was a necessary evil to protect the humans, and it made
him wish she was human. Still, he couldn’t fight what he was, or
what she was, and he tried not to question the very nature of what
his father taught him.

That wasn’t his place.

They all die the
same.

* * * *

Mirage paced the length of her room,
unsure of what was making her anxious. She kept looking out her
window, an odd, itching sort of tingle between her shoulder blades,
almost like she was being watched.

There’s nothing out there;
don’t be silly,
she scolded herself. That
did nothing to allay her irritating, pressing unease.

Lightning crackled through the air;
there was a storm coming. She could feel it. She imagined the
Children of the Breeze playing in the rising winds, their
incorporeal bodies fading with the rising gusts. The image was
almost enough to make her smile. Almost.

God, she didn’t know if
she could stand living in such a humid climate. Her Promised Lands,
settled comfortably in Ohio, were nothing like this warm Florida
weather. Even though rain pressed against her skin, it was little
relief. The trickle that had started about an hour before had quit,
although the clouds hung low with their burden. It wouldn’t be long
until they shook the weight from them, but it wouldn’t do anything
for the sticky heat that clung to Mirage’s skin. How did the humans
cope with it constantly? Better question; how was
she
going to survive
it?

There was no stopping the fact that
she was going to have to adapt. This was the only place she could
live now that she’d been exiled. Another flash of bitterness tried
to rise, but she squashed it brutally. She wasn’t about to feel
sorry for herself. No matter how unfairly she’d been treated by
Umbra.

“
There’s nothing
wrong
with me,” Mirage
muttered despite herself as she leaned her head on the windowsill.
She watched the sun’s colors steal the sky, imbuing the blue with
pinks and purples. The colors streaked through the palm trees’
broad leaves, etching lines across her rune-covered skin. The
clouds were bathed in a purple-red hue, ominous. She could almost
see faces of the angry gods that shook the water from within them.
She sighed, turning from the sky and thoughts of fictional
malevolent beings and stared straight ahead of her. The storm
dampened her powers, constraining them to her body. There was no
movement in the air, nothing she could listen to so she could calm
her mind. Perhaps that was the reason she was upset. Of course, it
had nothing to do with how betrayed she felt. Nah, that definitely
wasn’t the reason.

Mirage laughed sadly at her stupidity.
Above her, the gods quivered in their anger, echoing a ghostly
rumble.

* * * *

The thunder echoed, cracking in an
angry, almost-scream. Sweat beaded at the nape of Michael’s neck
and trickled down his back before soaking into his white shirt. The
humidity was nearly unbearable. It was made worse by the rain that
was thick in the air. A calm before the storm, the small rain
shower he’d sat through had done nothing to cool him down. After
living so long in Florida, he should be used to it. The thick
moisture hung heavy in the air, and swelled in the turbulent clouds
above him. The wind had picked up, whipping the palm leaves
rhythmically. It was only a matter of time before God released his
fury through rain, thunder and lightning.

“
What is she doing?”
Derrick asked. Michael jumped, dropping his binoculars.

“
Damn it,
Derrick.”

His cousin grinned. “Jumpy lately,
Monarch?”

Michael scowled.
“
Don’t
call me
that.”

Derrick ignored him, giving him a
playful punch to his shoulder. “Hey, sorry I had to give you such a
beating in school today. I wanted to make it look real, ya
know?”

“
Yeah.” Michael avoided
looking him in the eye.

Derrick leaned forward. “You don’t
look too beat up.”

Michael shrugged and muttered
something unintelligible, hoping his cousin would catch the hint
and shut the hell up.

“
She used powers on you,
didn’t she?”

Michael sighed. No such
luck.

“
I didn’t know she was
part Day Spawn until it was too late,” Michael growled. He made
sure his voice was a full throated growl, fierce enough that it
made Derrick recoil. Though Derrick was nearly twice his shoulder
span and a football player, there was something about him that his
cousin feared. Sometimes it bemused Michael, other times it amused
him.

“
Damn, I didn’t mean
anything by it.”

“
And you’re not going to
say anything about it to my father, either, not if you don’t want
all of the Humanitarians to know a Dark Child got the best of
you.”

Derrick raised his hands in retreat.
“Fine. Fine. You bitch more than a girl.”

Michael ignored him as he picked the
binoculars up and resettled into his place just at the edge of the
boulder in the sand-like soil. She hadn’t moved from her place at
the window, staring straight across the small yard her rather
worn-looking home claimed. She looked so sad…

“
What’s the Dark Child
doing?”

Michael grimaced, not sure of why
hearing Derrick’s tone upset him. “She’s just looking out the
window.”

“
Boring, aren’t
they?”

He cleared his voice. “Yeah,
boring.”

“
Did you
have
to give back her
Incantation book? I would have liked to have it for a souvenir. I
call dibs on it if we leave anything left of her house.”

“
Have you spoken to the
Monarch?” Michael asked to interrupt his gloating.