The Scent of Lilac: An Arrow's Flight Novella (19 page)

 
give birth to a
boy, and together
Chad
and I name him Mason. He lives, although through the years, four of our seven
children are not as fortunate. We grieve, but we lean on our love for each
other to pull us through each heartache. And we survive.

           
With the
help of the Council, Kate emerges into a strong, practical leader, and she
governs us well. Daily, she studies from a book she calls the Scriptures, which
seems to give wisdom and bring her comfort simultaneously. She teaches it to
those who show interest, reading to us from the pages and telling us of her
God. Some of it is strange, and I’m not sure I will ever believe. It seems
wrong to fully turn my back upon the Moirai. Perhaps one day. None the less,
her soothing voice brings me peace.

           
Over the
next two years, the Village slowly begins to change as the men are carefully
immersed into our culture. Celebrations calling us to our destined duties end
as each of us is allowed to explore options. Families are created; lives are
renewed. I can’t say the transition is easy, but it is freeing. So much so that
even
Tara
eventually comes to fully trust in Kate’s
judgment.

           
Unlike
Mona, Kate is a merciful leader, and I soon learn that mercy is an immeasurable
gift sprinkled with forgiveness and grace. It brings with it all good things.

           
This is
why I am not surprised one quiet morning—three years after Kate’s return—to see
a shadow emerge from the mountainside and take the shape of a tall figure. Kate
and I lounge on a blanket, watching my two small boys run in circles with their
father. I see Ian first, and I nudge Kate with my elbow. She looks up.
  

           
As usual,
his blond hair stands out in all directions on his head, and even at a
distance, his eyes are as blue as the sea. His beard is thin along his jawline,
and his only possessions are a large pack on his back, a quiver, and a bow
slung cross-wise over his chest.

           
Kate
stumbles to her feet, tears bubbling up in her eyes. She runs; he fumbles out
of the heavy pack and drops it just as she rushes into his arms, safe and
whole. My own tears well as Ian lifts her from the ground and buries his face
into the folds of her hair.

           
“That
must be Ian.”
Chad
settles down beside me. Kate has Ian’s face in her hands now, and he leans in,
kissing her.

           
“Yes. He
came for her just as he promised.”

           
“Of
course he did,”
Chad
replies. I glance at him, and I catch my reflection in his eyes.

           
“Of
course,” I whisper.

           
He
presses closer until I raise up to kiss him. The moment is made that much more
perfect by little Aiden who clumsily crashes into his daddy’s chest and breaks
us apart.
Chad
scoops him up and nuzzles in until Aiden giggles and my heart melts.

           
Before Ian
came into her life, Kate believed love was a foolish thing to die for, and for
the longest time, I believed it, too. Love was too dangerous for my taste, but
when it finally captured me, I had to succumb, just as Kate had before me. Kate
bears the marks of her love on her body. As for myself, I carry my own scars
because of my love for
Chad
.
But love is the great healer.

           
Mason
climbs into my lap and wraps his chubby arms around my neck, and I’m reminded again
of how wrong we were to have ever believed that love was foolish. I turn to
Chad
.

           
 
“Do you still carry my bottle of shampoo?”

He wrestles around Aiden’s
squirming frame and digs the bottle of purple liquid from his pocket.
“Everywhere I go.”

           
I take it
from him, hold it a moment, and kiss the top of Mason’s dusty head.

           
“Thank
you,” I sigh. “For loving me when I was so ugly and clueless.”

           
He gives
me that crooked grin that wins me over every time. I open the bottle, take a
deep sniff of its contents. The scent tumbles me backward to my village days as
a young girl, and with it the memories of my friends explode. I cringe in
remembrance at the sacrifices they were each forced to make—some that cost
their lives—and I wonder what they would think if they could see our village
now. Would they think the sacrifice had been worth it?

           
I set the
bottle into
Chad
’s
waiting palm, but he doesn’t let go of my hand. The bottle pressed between us, we
cast our eyes toward Kate and Ian still encased in each other’s arms. The sun
glints off Ian’s bow and consumes them both in light, and in the glow, I
remember Kate’s story. I see a miraculous Truth which holds their love together.
And it is truly beautiful.

It is a love story that saved us
all.

And now... a sneak peek at

A Heart of Flesh

An Arrow's Flight Novella Volume 2

Coming 2017

For Justin every single
day is unpredictable. It’s been four years since he discovered five babies with
unprecedented abilities inside his father’s lab in
Eden
... the last of the
Gaza
babies to have been subjected to Project
Nephilim
and injected with an advanced mixture of the
Serum. And with Ian gone, the responsibility of training these toddlers falls
to Justin.

Fortunately, he has the
help of Penelope and Aaron... and Diana. With her nurturing heart, love of
children, and a knack for bringing everything into balance, she is the perfect
partner. She strives with Justin every step of the way as he works to teach self-control
and harmony to the tiny, yet dangerous lives left in his care. And as Justin's
heart bends more and more toward these children, something inside him begins to
change. But how long will they be safe? And what will happen if all his efforts
aren’t enough to restrain the insurmountable strength that rules every fiber of
these children—the last of
Eden
’s
legacy?

Turn the page to read an excerpt from Chapter 1

Acknowledgements

I never planned to write
a novella.
My plan?
Write three books in The Arrow's
Flight Series and move on. But then, I hosted a reading marathon where I was
given the opportunity to connect with readers and find out what they really wanted
to get out of this series. It turns out they weren't finished with my
characters yet, so I couldn't be either.

It has been a true joy
to write Mia's story, and I owe the experience to my readers for encouraging me
to tell it. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I also must thank my
Street Team who
have
worked their booties off for me
getting word out to the public about my books, especially
Cheree
Castellanos
, Mary Clark,
Cambri
Allison, and Samantha
Burchman
. You've spread the
word through author spotlights, helped me create merchandise, and co-hosted
book parties. I couldn't have done half of what I do without all of you!

Thank you Molly Phipps
for creating the most beautiful
bookcover
ever! I
still can't stop looking at it!

Thank
you VK
Bussen
for taking time out of your life to be
my photographer.
I love you,
lady!

Thank you Aubrey Smith
for being the best Mia I could ask for with your beautiful self. I will have a
lot of fun making teasers and swag with your image. Love you bunches!

Thank you
Cheree
Castellanos
with
your help in polishing the book to perfection.
And thank you for being a true friend. I'm so
glad you're in my life.

And as always, thank you
Anna Faulk, the best content editor a girl could ask for. I know I've said it
too many times, but you make me better in more ways than one!

               
 
Diana sits on a large, flat, tree stump, legs
crossed and hidden under her skirt, a book propped in her lap. It’s a
children’s book. For over a year now, Sophia’s been teaching her how to read,
and honestly, she’s been a fast study. In fact, I’m surprised by how quickly
she’s caught on.

I watch her, half listening to her soft,
comforting voice as I work my knife through a piece of fresh wood. A low breeze
upsets her blonde curls, and she reaches up to push a strand away from her
face. The children gather at her feet, waiting anxiously for her to show them
the next illustration in the book. They take turns pointing chubby fingers and
chiming in excitedly before she nods with a smile and moves on to read the next
part of the story. Today, they tackle
Goldie
Locks and the Three Bears
, and I can’t help the smile that keeps invading
my face. These kids have some strong opinions regarding the wayward girl who
stumbled upon the cabin in the woods.
 

           
“Why does she go for Papa Bear’s
stuff first every time?” Nicholas exclaims. “If she went straight for Baby
Bear’s porridge, she’d be better off.”

           
“Because Papa Bear’s things look
better,” Jacob replies.

           
“How do you know?” Nicholas retorts.

           
“I know because it’s right there in
the picture.”

           
The other children shuffle around
watching the exchange with anticipation, and I don’t miss the familiar gleam in
their eyes. Diana straightens, her fingers tightening on the edges of the book.
“Boys,” she cuts in. “There’s no need to argue. Let’s see what happens next,
shall we?”

           
“You weren’t there.” Nicholas
narrows in on Jacob, ignoring Diana completely. “Pictures aren’t the real
truth.”

           
“The story’s not real either,” Jacob
points out before returning to pulling up handfuls of grass and scattering them
across his jeans.
“Duh!”

           
At this, Nicholas rears back his
shoulders and bunches his fingers into fists, a scowl creasing his young face. Diana
glances at me, a hint of wariness clouding her eyes. I pause in my whittling.

           
“Nicholas.”

           
My tone is harsh enough to cause him
to swivel his head in my direction, his fists relaxing.
“Sorry,
Justin.”

           
“Nothing to be
sorry for… as long as you keep your hands to yourself.”

           
“Yes sir.”

           
He settles back, and Diana mouths a silent “thank you”
before returning to the story. All seven children hone in to hear the end,
although if I’m counting correctly, this is the eleventh time they’ve
unanimously selected this book.

Still,
this is the first time that particular argument has cropped up. I study
Nicholas, making a mental note of it.

           
“… but Mama Bear’s chair was too soft.”

Diana’s
voice carries across the grassy lot, and I return to my carving. I’m working on
something special. The thing is… I don’t exactly know why I’m doing it. I just
know I woke up one morning with this nagging urge to carve it.

           
I’m usually pretty handy with my knife. I can visualize
just about anything and transform a piece of wood into that exact image in no
time. If I can look at the object I’m trying to emulate… like a butterfly… or a
flower… or a sword… even
better
. A couple hours and
voila!
Mission
accomplished.
Time to move on to the next project.

But
this time, it isn’t working. I can’t get it right.

I’ve
started over twice.

           
I study the distorted chunk of wood in my hands. It’s
pathetic and not even close to what it should represent. Frustrated, I glance
up. A sigh explodes from my lungs, and I stand and chuck the half-carved piece
into the air and over a stand of trees a hundred yards away.

           
“Whoa!” Caleb comes to his feet, disregarding the fact
that his mother is not quite finished with
storytime
.
He smiles, and saunters over. “Do it again, Justin.”

           
I plant a look of surprise across my face and fold my
pocketknife, slipping it into my pocket. “Do what? There’s nothing to see
here.”

           
“Yes there is,” he points. “I saw you throw that stick.
Just like Stephen, only better.”

           
Stephen is on his feet then.
“Wrong
Caleb.
Nobody’s better than me!”

           
That’s my cue to scoop Caleb up and secure him on my
shoulders, far from Stephen’s reach.

           
“You know what I think, boys?” I say, angling my head
upward enough to see the underside of Caleb’s chin before I settle my whole
gaze on Stephen. “I think Stephen is going to master throwing sticks far better
than I ever will.
And probably soon, too.”

           
Stephen beams up at me, his hazel eyes glistening with a
sense of future pride. I’m not wrong to say this: the kid has skills. Just last
week I watched him throw one of those huge acorns from
Scarlet
Forest
eighty
yards before it hit the ground. To say that’s impressive for a four year old is
an understatement.

           
“Really?”
Caleb ruffles his
fingers through my hair, and then covers my eyes with his small hands. He leans
over, his mouth close to my ear. “He’ll throw farther than you?”

           
“No doubt,” I laugh, prying his hands from my face. I
take Stephen by the hand and escort the two back to Diana, flipping Caleb over
my head and depositing him in his mother’s lap. He giggles and snuggles in
close to her chest. Finished with the reading, she sets the book aside and
wraps him in her arms.

           
“All right children,” she lets her eyes fall on each one
of them individually. “Off to the kitchen for supper.”

           
An excited jabbering explodes from them. In unison, they
bounce to their feet and take off. Caleb squirms out of his mother’s arms,
wipes off the wet kiss she deposited on his cheek, and trails after his older
brother, Henry.

           
“Be careful boys,” Diana calls out. “You listen to
Penelope. And don’t upset the others.”

           
“Okay.” Their voices fade as they disappear around the
bend, and Diana and I both know they will never catch the other children.

           
“I hope Nicholas leaves some food for the others,” she
says with a sigh. She picks up the book and hugs it to her chest before her
blue eyes find mine. “I don’t know what you’re expecting to do with that one.”

           
I chew on my lip. Of the five babies rescued from the
rubble, he’s been the most difficult. Ian and I knew we had a challenge ahead
of us the minute we took on the project to train the last of the Serum
babies—babies who had already developed their heightened abilities and were
possibly indestructible—for real. Of course, this theory has yet to be tested.
 
And Nicholas?
He
shows signs of
a strength
beyond what we imagined.

           
“He’s coming around.” I hold out my hand, and she takes
it and comes to her feet. “Maturity will make all the difference.”

           
“Yes,” Diana takes to the path, and I fall in step beside
her. “And with that maturity will
come
his strength
and his speed and his power.” She pauses, tilts her head upward until our eyes
meet. “No amount of training can prepare you for what they may become. You’ve
as much as said so many times.”

           
“Well, yeah,” I shrug, shoving my hands into my pockets.
“It’s a learning process for all of us. But imagine if we hadn’t started
training them at all. They’d be… animals. Test subjects locked away for life.”

           
I take a breath as the memory floods in on me. It still
surprises me how much I didn’t know about my dad and his work.

           
“True,” Diana concedes. She cocks her head. “But don’t
let your guard down. Even when you think they’ve mastered everything they could
ever learn, don’t turn your back.”

           
I raise a brow. “You’re lack that much confidence in me?”

           
“Not at all.
It’s the children
that worry me, not your prowess to teach them.” She pauses a moment, a look of
hesitation crossing her features. I frown.

           
“What is it?”

           
“I just... I think we all must be careful.”

           
I nod. I understand her fear. From day one, the children
have been aggressive. I haven’t been blind to it...