Chapter Three – Daddy Dearest
Disclaimer: I do not own any Darkest Powers related characters or plotlines.
CPOV:
"When our time and journey in this life comes to an end, it is those we leave behind who are impacted the most. Today, we gather to commemorate and rejoice the life that is Steven Saunders, Lord rest his soul, and pray for his beloved daughter who he is survived by, Chl-…"
The minister's voice faded to the background, my eyes remaining focused on the closed casket being lowered into the ground. The dull buzzing in my ears was numbing, my gaze glued forward throughout the rest of the burial despite the few who laid their hands on my shoulder and offered condolences. I stepped forward silently once the crowd had dissipated to toss a handful of dirt into my father's grave, the weight of each raindrop hitting my black umbrella making my steps heavier.
After settling things with the minister, I stood alone at last in the graveyard, my dyed black hair pulled into a loose ponytail at the nape of my neck, plain black dress with lace detailing rain spattered and billowing lightly in the breeze. The dried tear tracks on my face evident as I turned my gaze upward to the grey, overcast sky, drops hitting my cheeks and dotting my eyelashes.
At 15 years old, this wasn't how my life was supposed to turn out. My biggest decision should have been what to wear to the school dance, or who to partner with for a class project, instead of what to write on my father's tombstone. My father's brutal murder was my fault, it had left me alone and lost, already dreading having no place to sleep. It took emptying out the last of my savings just to pay for the funeral and headstone, as it was the least I could do.
From the corner of my eye I saw movement by the wrought iron gate of the cemetery, and immediately squeezed my eyes shut in a panic, hand instinctively heading to the hollow of my throat where my amulet once sat, as my mind spun with anxious thoughts of what poor, restless soul I had reanimated in my grief. To ever think I would be able to remain in control in a cemetery of all places was foolish, I was selfish and idiotic to think otherwise. I stood there mentally berating myself, eyes still clenched tight in denial and anger at my own abnormality, that I couldn't even manage self-control on this day, of all days.
Upon finally taking a steadying breath and turning to face my failures however, I was inclined to believe that the man I was seeing was very much alive, his expensive and new looking suit and general healthy skin tone giving him away, his somewhat familiar blue eyes catching mine. Even so, my anguish and panic had indeed taken their toll if the slight tremors beneath the earth were any indication.
"You look just like her, you know." The man finally spoke, startling me out of my inner turmoil. I turned to face him fully, studying him intently in the dull light of the afternoon. The man standing before my looked to be in his early 30's, just over 6ft tall, and he gave off an air of confidence in the way he stood. He was dressed for the occasion in his expensive dark suit, his royal blue tie complementing the once again startlingly familiar cerulean blue of his eyes. He smiled gently as he saw me observing him, and all at once his handsome, masculine features became comforting and trustworthy, completely at odds with the lithely muscular physique beneath that suit, or the imposing line of his shoulders.
"Do I know you?" I replied, eyes narrowing in suspicion, feet shifting with the urge to flee that had all but become second nature to me as of late.
"As much as I wish otherwise, you do not." He answered, his smile turning forlorn and almost hesitant, his hand running through his wavy chestnut hair in a surprising show of nerves. Before I could ask any further questions, he spoke again.
"I knew your mother, once upon a time. We met through work, I suppose." He intoned, beginning to stroll calmly towards me, never breaking eye contact, "My name is Hadrian Valefar, and I want to help you Chloe. I know what you are." He finished.
My heart sped up as fear wracked through me and the edge of panic began to consume me, the earth once more beginning to tremble while I debated my next move. Considering the last time one of my mother's old work friends wanted to 'help' me, they attempted to kill me afterwards, I thought my doubt was well founded.
"Wait!" Hadrian shouted, "I promise I'm not here to hurt you. I have no connections to the Cabal or the St. Cloud, I only want to talk." He spoke quickly, hands raised open palm in front of him.
"What is there to talk about? If you're not one of them, then you must be supernatural yourself, and you know I can't stay here much longer. That, and you knew my mother." I spoke, my voice more confident than I was feeling, "Big deal! Why come to me now?" I demand.
"Chloe… I didn't just know your mother. In the short time I knew her, I loved her endlessly." He told me, hands lowering slowly back to his sides as his eyes became saddened. "Make no mistake, Jennifer loved your father Chloe. But in the early weeks of their relationship, your mother and I crossed paths for the first time and it was…otherworldly." He went to continue, but I was quick to cut him off.
"You're telling me, what? That you and my mom had a summer fling, then you dipped so she married my dad? That still doesn't give you the right to my life." I demanded, stepping closer to the man.
"In a sense. I never wanted to leave Jennifer, but my family and the business I'm in could not be ignored." He told me, a desperate look falling over his face. "You're right I am 'supernatural' as you put it, but that isn't why I'm here and it isn't why I want to speak with you." He responded, finally standing right in front of my, looking me in the eyes as the trembling of the ground beneath our feet finally ceased. It seems my subconscious was finally ready to stop raising the dead in my defense.
"Right, but what, I mean…family?" I stammered, becoming confused once more.
Hadrian reached up to lightly grasp each of my hands in his own, his warm palms soothing my nerves and sparking something in my gut as he briefly lowered his eyes once more, before firmly locking them back with my own and tightening his grip lightly on my hands, as if he was anticipating me to take flight. And just as it hit me, my stomach clenching and my breath hitching as I finally placed where I recognized those familiar ocean eyes-
"You're mine Chloe, I loved your mother with all my heart and in return she gave me you."
"Can't a loving father simply call to say hello?" The distinguished and warm voice spilled out from the other end of the line.
Our relationship had been severely stunted at first, what with his awkward unfamiliarity with parenthood even as well-meaning as he was, and me with the fresh sting of my dad's death, unwilling to move on so quickly. I had felt guilty for the longest time, as if I had simply replaced the man who had loved and raised me all these years with the first one to walk by, but soon that had faded as I opened my heart to the only family I really had left. He had given me no reason to regret it since.
"Well, as much as I love you, that never really has been our style. And besides, you interrupted my training session!" I sassed back, even as a small smirk grew on my face as I remembered just who it was who had raised this attitude in me in the first place.
"Ah so you are indeed keeping up with your training, my diligent daughter." He responded, and I knew that was at least part of why he had called in the first place, always so pressing with the need keep me in top shape, constantly vigilant and on top of my game.
"And getting settled in, thanks for asking father, but yes I have yet to forget a single thing you've taught me." I spoke again, pinching the phone between my left shoulder and my ear so my hands were free to open the fridge and grab a cold bottle of water.
You see, Hadrian Valefar was supernatural alright, but on a much greater scale than a shaman or at worst a werewolf as I had originally presumed. During the first month of my living with him, it came to light that my prolonged proximity to the man who gave me the other half of my genetic makeup, my biological father, had awoken latent supernatural abilities of another variety. Abilities that could not be attributed to my necromancy. It turned out that rather than inheriting the more dominant of genes from two advanced parents as is expected, the experiments forced on me as a child had in fact made it possible for the entirety of my DNA to become advanced. From both sides.
"And I've never been more proud, my little hellion." He shot back, humor and attitude filling his baritone voice. It made me smile to hear the nickname he had given me during our first week together. Ironic if you knew the truth.
Because while it was true her new found powers were her father's fault, it wasn't what most would assume. Her biological father was, in reality, a full blooded elemental demon, who had initially reigned as top dog in the fifth level of hell. He shared her eidetic memory, or more accurately she had inherited his, and as was essential for a 'hell-dweller' he aged at a rate so slow they considered him immortal. It had sent her into shock when she had first found out, but once they begun her training, out of necessity at first rather than defense, she had no choice but to accept it.
Hadrian had come to earth on business all those years ago, sent to investigate the source of all the reincarnations and recent passing of spirits who had been earth bound for centuries, when he had come across her mother. They spent those love-struck, passionate weeks together, but when he found out about Chloe he was devastated, because his work contract had another fifteen years on it and the penalty was of course, an eternity in hell. It was the age-old tale of star-crossed lovers who could never be.
Shaking away those thoughts with a fond smile, I turned my attention back to the conversation with my father, discussing my progress with my hellfire and training, and nailing down the details of my background story and new identity while I'm here. We decided that for the first few weeks I would go it alone, while he finished his business clearing the Cabal center in Detroit, gathering information. I would go with the story that I was living on my own because I had moved out of my parents' house last year, and retake my senior year so I could start travelling with him. We agreed that at the very least, I needed to graduate high school.
It was a good conversation, but before we could say our goodbyes and hang-up, the other shoe dropped.
"One last thing Chloe, please don't argue." He said at the last minute.
"What is it now?" I answered, becoming suspicious quickly even as I tried to remain even tempered.
"Well. Your registration at Mystic District High School has gone through perfectly, no questions asked. But, well, you start tomorrow." He muttered calmly.
This was…not what I had planned. I figured I would have time to prepare myself for a new life again, to settle in and brush up on my mask, my walls and sarcastic deflection for all the pettiness and rumors that high school thrives on. But then again, I had been through worse, and at the very least I should be grateful that things went off without a hitch.
So, I responded with a rational and calm, "I suppose that works. Goodbye father. "Before hanging up the phone.
Three hours had passed since the phone call with Hadrian, and I was now showered, changed, and lying on my bed staring at the ceiling.
My head was filled with thoughts of my first day tomorrow, and even though I had done this all a few times over now, the slight flutter of nerves was still present in my stomach. I had thrown on a pair of light grey sweatpants and a black long sleeved shirt after my shower, and now as I forced my eyes to close, I figure getting a good night's sleep is the first step. So, forgetting all the worrisome and negative thoughts, and using my meditation techniques to clear my mind, I fell into a deep, if somewhat fitful sleep.
It couldn't have been more than three hours later that my mind turned against me, forcing my light and passive dream into the most vicious and painful of nightmares. The light, spring field I had built around myself as I drifted off shifted into a dark room. There was one small window at the top of one wall, but otherwise there was no light and no way out. I was sat in the corner, curled up and alone, and through the quiet I could hear the thumping and telltale moaning of the dead rising, their fingernails scratching against the concrete floor as the dragged their decaying bodies towards me. However, that wasn't the worst of it. Because while I had assumed myself to be alone at first, I was suddenly made aware of the heavy, warm breath touching the side of my neck as the warm figure beside me made themselves known in the dark.
"You never were strong enough, were you?" The horribly familiar voice of the man I loved spilled into my ears, "I really had no choice but to leave you, you left me no choice."
I shook my head in denial, even as my thoughts turned against me. "That isn't true, I love you, please." I begged in response, turning my head to lock eyes with him desperately.
The jade stones that were his eyes glinted in the shadows, a malicious edge hiding in them as he continued to shred me apart with his words, confirming everything I ever thought.
"You really thought you were my mate? That my wolf would choose a scrawny little thing like you? I pitied you, that's it. Simon didn't want you and I knew that returning you to the world would only get us all killed, so I lied." He spoke again, his voice becoming harsh and hateful as I began to frantically shake my head, hands rushing up to cover my ears, even as the words continued to pound inside my brain, as if the voice was inside my mind.
"NO! No please, this isn't you, it can't be!" I cried, even as the threatening voice confirmed all my deepest fears, the things I was afraid to say out loud but had believed all along. It was my weakness, my naivety and fears that had ruined their lives, sent them on the run and eventually left me alone. I had lost my former life, friends, family, and the love of my life. This was never supposed to happen, and I could feel my paper thin resolve shredding with every malicious word, the voice of my so called 'mate' dripping with loathing.
As his voice got louder and the room became darker, I clenched my eyes shut, hands pressing harder against my ears to block out the voice not to mention that awful screaming. I rocked back and forth, trembling as I willed silence, but even as the voices began to fade that terrifying, shrill scream only seemed to grow louder, and I didn't register as my hands fled from my ears to my chest instinctively, clawing at my heart in pain as my subconscious continued to turn against me.
In a sudden rush, I was sat up in bed in a cold sweat, realizing that the screaming I had heard in my dream was in fact my own. My hands were trembling as I pushed sweaty, damp hair off of my sticky forehead and listened to my own panting and panicking breaths, the only sounds in the darkness of my bedroom. I registered that the alarm clock on my bedside table was glowing 3:02AM in angry red digits and I endeavored to untangle my bare legs from the bed sheets. My heart was racing, and a dull throbbing was beginning over my breastbone. Making my way out of the bed, I hurried to the master bathroom, even as my hands continued to tremble. I managed to flick the light on, squinting harshly against the sudden brightness as my eyes adjusted enough for me to register it again. I turned the taps on the sink and splashed water in my face to wash away any evidence of tears and wake myself up.
I stared into my own haunted, sky blue eyes and I just couldn't handle it all anymore. I thought I was finished with this, with the sad, defenseless little girl eyes and the disturbing nightmares. They used to happen all the time, first during the week I spent alone after he left and then during the weeks that followed my dad's funeral. But the training, the meditation, Hadrian especially, had all helped and I thought I was in the clear, that I could put all the childish and painful memories behind me. I suppose not. As the trembling in my hands finally ceased, my attention in the mirror was drawn to the reason for the throbbing I felt in my chest in the shape of eight long, perpendicular gouges, inflamed red and raw, starting near my collarbone and dragging downwards. They had clearly been the cause of my own fingernails and I made an effort to wash away the dried blood and disinfect them before I finished up in the bathroom.
With my erratic breathing finally regulating, and my head somewhat clear once more thanks to meditation techniques, I layed back down in bed determined to get a few more hours sleep. And I was in luck, as not even two minute after my head hit the pillow, I fell into a blissfully dreamless, if only slightly anxious sleep.
A piercing buzz broke through my stream of unconsciousness and I rolled fluidly towards the irritating noise to slam my hand down on the snooze button. Blinking my eyes open slowly, I read that it was now 5:00AM, and I had in fact managed another uninterrupted two hours of rest.
Regardless of nightmares, I was determined to begin my morning with a semblance of assuring normalcy before all the drama, hormones, and angst of high school overruled my day, and consequently pulled myself out of my warm bed at this early hour. It had slowly but surely become routine for me over the last few years to start my day off with a light workout, no heavy or supernatural training however, and this was the hour.
Still yawning, I never said this made me a morning person, I made my way to my drawers, throwing on a pair of black workout shorts, and a white, long sleeve spandex exercise shirt, before throwing my bedhead blonde hair up into a high ponytail. I made sure to lace my white running shoes tight on my feet, as I headed to the front door and out into the quiet early hours of the morning. After stretching and putting on my headphones, iphone strapped to my upper left arm, I got started,
Morning workouts meant a 5km run around the trails surrounding my property for cardio, followed by 30 reps of pushups, situps, and lunges, before a sun salutation yoga routine for cool down, Nothing too extreme, but surely enough to wake up everyday. I lowered my arms slowly back to my sides, eyes opening an hour and a half later as I finished off the routine and was now in desperate need of breakfast and a shower. I kicked my running shoes off at the back door where I had ended up, pausing my music, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge and heading straight to the master bathroom to get ready for this abominable day.
I stripped out of my sweaty workout clothes, dropping them on the cool tile floor, and let my hair out of its confinement, then stepped into the delightful cool water in the shower. I allowed the refreshing water to roll over my shoulders for a few blissful moments, before getting down to business lathering my long blonde waves with vanilla scented shampoo, followed by conditioner. I rinsed my hair and soaped up my body briefly, before resigning myself to having to get out of the shower at some point and turning off the taps. Stepping out into the warm bathroom, steam billowing behind me, I made quick work of drying off, making note that it was now 7:00AM and I had an hour before I needed to leave for school if I wanted to make it there on time.
For the next hour, I set to it blow drying my hair into voluminous, long, blonde waves, and applying my regular light make up that consisted of a subtle highlight of my cheekbones, not needing much actual foundation on the clear complexion. I finished with slightly winged black eyeliner, long, full dark lashes, followed by naturally pale pink lips and gracefully arched eyebrows. I attempted to flash myself a confident, pearly white smile in the mirror, only to watch it fall slightly flat as every possible negative scenario flashed through my head. I shook it all away roughly, spinning on my heel and fleeing the smaller space, fleeing my headspace just the same.
I made my way to the closet for the second time this morning, making sure to keep an eye on the clock as I went, and proceeded to put together the best 'first-day-of-repeating-senior-year because-I-started-seeing-dead-people' outfit. This meant black high-waisted skinny jeans, ripped in a few places, and a cropped, sleeveless, cream turtleneck. I paired it with small pearl studs, simple metal fixtures in both my cartilage and industrial piercing, black strappy heels, and a cropped, quarter length sleeved army green jacket. I was content to make the statement with my ink and piercings that i wasn't out to make friends, and it was an even worse idea to make me an enemy.
Taking one last look in the full length mirror by my bedroom door, I made my way down stairs, stopping to grab a protein bar, red apple and extra water bottle in the kitchen on my way, and off to the front door. I had already had a plain black backpack waiting with any school essentials, and I added the food and water, before double checking on cash, phone, keys, emergency passport, ID's and medical supplies, before I was locking the door behind me. The sound of my heels on the pavement was distinct and staccato as I approached my ride for the day, my sleek, stylish and speedy jet black motorcycle. This had been my one contingency for moving to the middle of nowhere, that I keep my bike.
Checking my phone as a hitched one long leg over the bike to straddle it, I swore softly under my breath as I realized I could very well be late at this rate. I started her up soon after, grabbing the black helmet from where it hung off the handle, piling my hair onto my head and pulling it on in one fluid motion before kicking off, leaning forward, and revving smoothly as I took off.
It was a much needed ride to clear my head, get rid of the useless anxiety and focus on why I was here, on the future instead of the past. Beneath the helmet's visor I slipped on the mask I wore in the face of the public, unwilling to give anyone the opportunity to use my emotions against me again. It was an easy ride after that, and I made it in no time.
Pulling into the semi crowded parking lot of 'Mystic District High School, I ignored the confused and nosey looking students looking my way upon hearing the purr of my bike's engine, intent on finding a parking spot at the very least without starting up with all the drama and gossip. I pulled into the first available spot I found, thankfully close to the exit so I could make a swift getaway at the end of the day, and shut off the engine, pushing down the kickstand with one high heeled foot. I reached into my bags front pocket to check my phone, mentally congratulating myself on having 5 minutes to spare before the first bell rang, before I decided it was time to face the music.
Feet now both touching the ground, I sat up straight in the seat, reaching up to pull off the black bike helmet and release my flaxen locks spilling down past my shoulder once more, and my metal industrial bar glinting momentarily. I had slid my phone into my back pocket, slid my leg over the side of the motorcycle to stand on my own two feet once more, flashing at least one of my tattoos to the ever so attentive and annoying public, when it happened.
Monochrome black backpack in hand, hand pulling through my hair, and legs locking mid step in a confident gait, I stared. Against my will my heart began to race, whether out of fear or excitement it was impossible to tell, and my hands began to shake as I registered that colour once more. What was once upon a time my favourite colour, the soft, deep emerald green that spoke a million words that you were bound to never hear out loud. And suddenly none of it mattered, the morning workout, the meditation, the outfit, it was all for nought. Because there I was staring hopelessly startled and lost into eyes I would remember until the day I died, even three years later.
Because across the parking lot I meet eyes I haven't seen in years, though they've haunted many a night's sleep, still the same startling shade of green as the last time I saw them.
The day they disappeared, a lifetime ago.
The day they left me behind.
Derek Souza. My one, my only, my soulmate. At least, he had been. It was a shame, how much it had all changed.
He had no idea.
A/N: Well, I'm sure you all hate me, this took way too long. But we've come full circle!
Please R&R, pictures will be uploaded to my account.
-Mary