Read Inside the Fire Book One in the Warden's Series Online
Authors: Heather Glidewell
Tags: #vampires, #angels and demons
Inside the Fire Book One in the Warden's Series
Inside The Fire
Copyright 2015 Heather Glidewell
ISBN: 9781311125804
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For Catherine
Without you there would be no Dawn
Table of Contents
My name is Dawn Weathers, and I am eighteen
years old.
I inhabit a body harboring both darkness and
light. It has become harder over the years to fight the darkness in
me. My mother tries to keep my emotions balanced and my brain
focused, but even she fails from time to time. Things changed
though when we moved. They changed in a way neither of us
expected.
I have always been gifted, but lately my
gifts have been becoming more erratic. They’re causing more damage
and pulling me into a whirlpool of darkness I never experienced
till this last year.
First let me explain my
heritage. My blood is a mixture of Heaven and Hell, celibacy and
sin, ebony and ivory, angelic and demonic. I am not immortal
though. I am not completely mortal either so it’s safe to assume I
have an
excellent life
expectancy.
My parents love immediately became
repudiated by Heaven and Hell. When they befell discovery, the
councils declared that they be excommunicated from both Heaven and
Hell. Once immortal entities, all that remained of these living and
breathing creatures was their memory.
As punishment for their wrongdoing, they
were stripped of their wings and obligations. There was one thing
God would not do, strip my mother of me.
They went into hiding after I was born,
predominantly small towns and farmlands. Maintaining homes anywhere
that had more land and fewer cities. I was a risk the moment I was
born. Those that sought to end my life would have a harder time
finding me in a rural area. My parents wanted to protect my
identity just as much as they wanted to protect their own. They
figured if I remained hidden I would live. If I lived I would
ascend if I ascend then I would claim my birthright.
They soon learned, though, they could not be
together, my father’s constant need for power and glory did not
complement my mother’s good nature. So they split; my father taking
root in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the big city, and my
mother the serenity of the country.
Lost Little
Girl
My father waited till I was fourteen to tell
me what I was. I had been living with him for 7 years. My mother
believed that my father could provide for me better. Therefore, at
the age of seven, with tears in her eyes, she handed me over to
him. I know now it was hard on her, having to say goodbye. At the
time, I did not understand why my mother did not want me anymore.
Had I done something so terrible that she felt compelled to hand me
over to a man I didn’t know?
“I have to stay hiding Damien. I can’t take
care of her the way she needs to be.” My mother had said to him as
he looked at her through narrow eyes.
“So you think I can care for her the way she
needs to be?” My father had asked her sternly.
“You have far more protection for her than I
do.” My mother’s eyes were glistening with fresh tears.
I looked just like her from the blonde hair
to the full pouty lips. The only trait I inherited from my father
was his cold brown eyes.
“It’s him isn’t it? He doesn’t want her.” My
father was angry with her. Was it possible my mother’s new husband
was forcing her to give me away?
“He’s in the military Damien. I can’t expect
him to move both of us around the country.” She looked at me and
grinned.
I just stood there stupidly listening to my
parent’s odd conversation, not knowing how it affected me.
“You don’t need him Angie. You are strong
enough to take care of yourself.” There was a slight give in his
voice. For just one second it seemed as if he still cared for
her.
“I do need him. There is no way to keep an
eye out for things. I cannot afford a companion. Moreover, I have
no clue where I will wind up. Something is after me. Just protect
our daughter.” She pushed me towards him.
He looked down at me and gave me a little
smile. My eyes widened at the cruelty of it and I took two steps
back. He got down on one knee and took me by my waist.
“Do you know who I am?” He asked me
softly.
“No.” I whispered wringing my hands together
nervously.
“I am your Daddy.” He said smiling that
creepy smile again.
“Daddy?” I looked up at my mother and she
nodded at me.
I had never met the man. She said he left us
when I was two and had yet to come home. That was until my mother
remarried and I knew Daddy was never coming back.
“Daddy!” I squealed and threw myself into
his arms.
****
This was also the day I met Mona, my
father’s second wife. She was young with beautiful blonde hair and
green eyes. She looked a lot like my mother, but I never said
anything to let him know I saw the connection. For years, I would
live within Mona’s constant praising. I was her princess after
all.
My father and his wife found out shortly
after getting married they could not conceive any children. In
desperation, they tried several methods, but each one failed. The
only child Mona would ever have was me. She did not care where I
came from; all she wanted was to treat me as if I was hers.
I missed my mother every day though. I just
could not exactly see her. They figured it would “confuse me” so in
the last seven years I had seen her three times. Each time was
through a window when my parents would meet to talk about my living
arrangements. She would never look at me. The few hidden glances
she would try showed the pain in her eyes. She also never changed.
She always looked the same as she did the day she handed me over to
my father.
I wouldn’t say I was happy, but I wasn’t
miserable either. I had everything any little rich girl could want.
I had the pony, a swimming pool, and a butler named Mitch who would
chase me around trying to get my muddy shoes off the carpet. The
only problem I ever faced had to do with me competing against my
father's job.
It always seemed it was more important than
spending time with me. He was always working and there were always
weird people in our house. Parties and galas were thrown in the
lower levels of the house while I was forced to stay upstairs and
out of sight. I was rather polite but my father always told me
these were not the people I needed to be associated with. If I
should be leery of them why are they even in our house to begin
with?
Mona, on the other hand, was always thrilled
to spend time with me. So when my father was away on business
(which was all the time) she would plan all these extravagant
outings for us. We would fly to New York on a whim and catch a show
on Broadway. Better yet, we would fly to Florida and California to
take in the Disney attractions. She spoiled me rotten.
I suppose it was her way of making sure I
knew I was loved. Though I never questioned if my father loved me,
I knew he did even when the words would not come off his lips. I
enjoyed it though. Mona was a fantastic fill in for my mother. I
just could never pull myself to calling her Mom. I was still
holding out that one day my Mother would come back for me.
****
Things changed when I was thirteen. I was
having dreams that would consume me. I would wake up screaming not
knowing what I was dreaming about at all. I remember nothing, not a
single second of the dream before my screaming. I came to the
assumption they were just nightmares. After I woke up and my room
smelled strongly of burnt fabric, a few times I even found scorch
marks on my sheets in the shapes of my fingers.
I never told anyone about
the dreams or the soiled sheets, taking everything off my bed and
throwing it away hiding the evidence. I didn't know what my father
would think of it. He would find it "illogical" that a young lady
would smoke in her bed. I would have to scream:
"
Daddy I don't smoke
," but he would look the other way.
I hated dealing with the fear I would never
make my father proud of me. He walked with presence, holding his
back straight in the most unnatural way. He was dignified, yet a
spark in his eyes always sent a shiver up my spine.
I remember the day that changed my life
well. I could tell you every last detail of that conversation.
Well, at least what I remember hearing. I had been sitting on the
couch watching a movie when my father came into the room and turned
the TV off. He looked at me with his hard brown eyes and slowly an
awkward smile crossed his face.
“Dawn, I need to speak with you.” He always
had a way of sounding like he was in control of everything.
I suppose in a way he did. No matter what my
father asked of anyone they always seemed to do it. There was no
arguing, no hesitation; just a nod and they were out the door doing
his bidding. I always figured it was just a sign of their respect
for him. Little did I know it had more to do with fear than
respect.
"What is it Daddy?" I asked him, my father
rarely smiled and when he did it always gave me the chills. This is
what he was doing at that moment as I looked up at him.
"Come with me?" He asked holding his hand
out.
I took it firmly in mine and allowed him to
help me up from the couch. He took me into his office, sat me down
on the brown suede loveseat and stood in front of me. He was
fidgeting, something my father never does.
"I will tell you a story, honey. I want you
to pay close attention to it now ok?" He said slowly. I nodded at
him.
He talked about God and Lucifer and the
separation of Heaven and Hell, the Great War between Angels, and
those that were thrown out of the Kingdom of Heaven. My father went
on for what seemed like hours telling me the story about mortals,
Angels, and demons. He kept telling me the universe was
intertwined, that each story told had a shard of truth. About
thirty minutes in my mind wondered off into my own fantasy
world.
“Dawn are you listening? This is important!”
He called me back to earth, but my mind was only partially
there.
I am not, nor have I ever, been a religious
person. I find theology to be a waste of breath. No religion yet
had swayed me to believe their way was the only way. Until that day
came I would be my own religion. The Church of Dawn if you
will.