Wingless And Damned (The Damned Series)

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious and are products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual events, or locales or persons, living or dead are entirely coincidental.

Edited by: Dawn White

Cover by: Brandy Dull

Formatting by:
Dawn White

For Nevermore Press

All rights reserved.

Acknowledgments

To my wonderful husband who has believed in me with every endeavor I have ever set out to accomplish, love you.

To my beautiful daughters who made it quite interesting to write some pivotal love scenes. Love you, ladies!

Can’t forget to say thank you so much to my best friend Jessica White who happens to be married to my great brother-in-law John White! Couldn‘t have done it without you!

To the best daddy in the world, please don’t read this book. I love you!

Last but certainly not least,
Claudy Conn, my favorite author, who taught me the ins and outs on everything publishing!

Eleusis West Attica Greece 1700 BC

As Aison fly’s as fast as he can
, he still can’t get close enough to see if the visions he saw on Mt. Olympus were real. Landing with a loud thud on the thick grey stones, Aison tries to push his way through the crowd who is chanting Hades, which has gathered around a wooden funeral pyre. As the final obstacle keeping him from viewing the pyre is removed, he collapses to his knees in his devastated state at the sight of his beloved Kora lying limp. When he reaches the fire, it is quickly distinguished by his desperation as he grasps her in his arms and weeps into her thick curly ebony hair. When Aison searches her honey eyes for any sign of life, he is lost in the clouded version they once were. Feeling the limpness of her once golden skin, he lays her gently down on the wood, when the red and blue fire rages up around him his anger is already at the highest point that can be reached. Aison steps through the consuming fire as it furies towards him it terrifies the thrilled crowd into shriller chants. When he lays his eyes on the deafening crowd he turns around to get one final look at Kora only to be met by fire engulfing her already charred body, when he returns his gaze to the crowd his eyes are the color of the rivers of blood he so decrees to them in his fury.

“You have soiled my Beloved to appease a god that would have you rotting in the darkest pits of the underworld! I will make it my immortal mission to cause each and everyone one of you the anguish you have caused me! I will make as many evil beasts as I can and destroy you! The blood of your innocent shall cleanse my immortal soul!”

Forces unseen begin to pull him skyward as he glares at the witnesses to the carnage of his once most beloved. Zeus warned me of falling in love with a mortal! When he gets his wits to him, he sets out on his journey to make as many monstrosities he can possibly make. All noble traits and empathy he once possessed for the mortals are continuously consumed by the hatred. Becoming a monster of immense proportions only to turn his hatred into a sire of five other originals to own the deepest darkest corners of this hell we call earth.

1810 Adirondacks Whiteface mountain range Upstate New York

The blood the overwhelming smell of crimson liquid seeming to pour out of every puncture wound the wolves caused the youngster. “Augustin you need to lay still and do as I say. Your body was ravaged by the pack of wolves that attacked you. I am going to put these cold
compresses on you while I send for your father.” Nodding my head at Augustin’s older sister, Milicent. She runs off at a swift pace to get her father who happens to be one of the nomadic Neuri tribe leaders. In Millicent’s absence, I push my pine root mixture into the worse of his injuries in his calf. As the medicine seeps into his system, he starts to regain his composure. I look up as I hear a thunderous breaking of the bark of near pine trees being brushed off, as Harland and Milicent bust into the clearing, pine needles from the forest floor sweep over Augustin from their abrupt stop. Harland rushes to his son’s side, takes his small hand into his own, and with tears in his dark brown eyes says, “He is, but seven years old he must survive this onslaught, I can’t lose my youngest. Is there any way he will survive this Ciarra?”

“I have put a paste of medicine in his wound I believe he will make it but it will be touch and go, he will need to be brought to my shelter in order for me to watch over him this night, we will know his fate in the morning.”

Harland lightly enfolds Augustin into his strong broad arms, carefully walking him through the forest of spruce, pine and many broad-leafed trees surrounding the base of the mountain range.

As I hold the leather open for Harland to place the ailing boy next to the fire without obstacle I clear my throat as I rub the side of my head knowing the information I’m about to say to him is going to cause both of us more stress then previously.

“Harland, I am new to this the only reason I am already the medicine woman is because our original medicine woman died of fever last winter, I was still training and still considered her Apprentice, under her supervision I would have no reservation believing your boy would survive. All I can say is I’m going to do everything in my power to save your youngest child. Make sure you also pray to the tribal ancestors (spirit guides)”

Harland exits my shelter in a haste wanting to get this night over with as quickly as possible.

During the hours of darkness, I replaced Augustin’s dressings and kept a fever threatening to take him at bay. When the early morning hours of dawn streak the darkened sky, I feel the windy rush of the leather flap being pushed aside only to have Harland standing in my makeshift home. Rubbing my eyes I motion to Augustin, who is resting peacefully next to the burning fire.

Harland takes his damaged son into his strong arms and rocks him slowly back and forth. Feeling elated by Augustin surviving such a brutal attack at my hands a mere apprentice.

Chapter One

My name is Ciarra and as medicine woman for the Neuri tribe, I work with my tribal ancestors or spirit guides and nature to keep the balance and peace within our tribe. So far, my job hasn’t been easy.

As I stand at the head of the fire, the tribe leader and members congregate around the fire pit in the center of the camp seeking the safety they feel in the warmth emanating from fire. My mind and body have grown weary from worrying over what could happen as a result of this night’s upcoming events. Five of our innocents were taken today by the dreaded
Strigoi. These blood-stealing monsters take our innocents from their resting places every two centuries, or so our legends tell us!

Seeking advice about the
dilemma, we have found ourselves in, a quick council with my spirit guides reminded me there are always unknown consequences when one twists a spell of this magnitude. My spirit guides have provided a spell for me to twist to ensure the survival of the Neuri Tribe. As I talk with them, my heart is racing knowing this simple transformation spell, if done wrong, will have dire consequences. The only way to beat the Strigoi is to fight fang with fang so to speak.

Twelve of the strongest men in the tribe have volunteered to be ones
be spelled as werewolves. I begin twisting what used to be thought of as a curse into a simple transformation spell. When I am done, no one will recognize them. However, to be honest, I have no idea how to change them back. I watch nervously as the beautiful, naked men of the Neuri tribe stand shoulder to shoulder as they begin to painfully transform into what seems to be mindless beasts. As the Neuri, men writhe in pain and agony, my spirit guides start chanting in an unknown language, calming the men. My expressive arm movements while talking to the men seem to draw them in closer to hear me. I give the men instructions to hunt the Strigoi down. "These monsters will come for your family sooner than we think." The women and children run for their makeshift homes as the formerly human beasts start out for the unforgiving dark woods. Once they are in the darkness of the woods, I hear thunderous roars and realize it is the newly turned beasts communicating with each other.

Finding a spell to transform them back is now my highest priority.

The spirits from beyond advise me, “
A spell has not yet been written to transform them back
.”

Confusion transforms into terror, as I am now fully aware of the consequences of my meddling with nature. At this
point, it is far too late to do anything about it now. The damage is done.

Kimi, the
Neuri tribe leader’s mate steps into the light of the fire as I am gathering my thoughts. Her distended belly shows she is to birth her child any day now. All the women of the tribe follow and question her regarding the true severity of the circumstances we find ourselves. When I interrupt, cutting the women's chatter off to explain to the tribal women I really do not know, as of yet, what the beasts transformation back to men will entail or even how long it will last, Kimi is clearly terror-stricken. Trying to be as gentle as possible, I lay Kimi to the ground motioning for the tribal women to help her. Following my suggestion, the women in the tribe take her back to her home, to her resting place so she may sleep off the terror paralyzing her and surrounding the rest of the camp. I gather my herbs and mixing bowls and make my way to my makeshift home as well.

* * * *

As soon as my head hits my bed, one of my spirit guides tells me to run. Death is coming if I do not. Gathering my meager belongings, I slowly try to sneak out of the camp undetected. As soon as I pass the tree line, I see movement out of the corner of my eye. The motion is so fast I think I am imagining it.

"Run,"
another of my spirit guides urges me. Not my imagination then.

I run toward camp yelling, “They are coming! The
Strigoi are coming!” No sooner are the words are out of my mouth than I feel a prickling alarm inch down my spine. In a terrifying whoosh, my feet are lifted from the ground. I cannot help but shriek as I get farther and farther from the ground. Tears sting my eyes as I am flown over the trees at a frightening speed. I start trying to break free of my captor’s strong embrace.