Forgotten Enemy (The Powers of Influence Book 1) Read online

  Forgotten Enemy

  Book I

  The Powers of Influence

  By C.B. Haight

  Forgotten Enemy

  Printed in the U.S.A.

  Second Printing December of 2012

  ISBN-13: 978-0615726496 (Added Touch Publications)

  ISBN-10: 0615726496

  Cover Design by Bill Ennis

  This book is protected by copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or unauthorized use of the material or artwork contained herin is prohibited without the express written consent of Added Touch Publications.

  To my sisters: the sisters of my blood, and the sisters of my heart, thanks for loving me unconditionally. May you always have the love you deserve.

  “Our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate, but that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, handsome, talented and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God.” – Nelson Mandela

  “Sometimes it is only through the eyes of someone who knows us well, that we can see the whole picture within our imagination and the future possibilities before us.” -C.B. Haight-

  .

  Prelude

  VIRGINIA 1732

  They were coming for her. Lyndell was sure now. Even with all the power she had within her, she could not stop them.

  Her boys, her precious sons, whimpered in the corner as she prepared the few staples they would need to make the trip.

  She had but one choice left to her, she must split them apart. The only way to save her infant sons was to give them to her most trusted friends.

  She thought about her dreams of watching them grow into men as handsome as their father. She knew her little ones would grow to be tall and strong. She dreamed they would have soft, raven-black hair. Hair so shiny it would give off a blue hue in the silver light of the moon. When they grew up, their charming smiles would melt some maiden’s heart. She pictured them having a slightly crooked tilt on the right side just like their father.

  Lyndell had hoped and prayed their father would have been able to return and see them. She imagined him looking into their soft, tawny eyes that shone more gold than brown. Eyes just like his own.

  For months, she planned for their births. She built their beds, knitted their blankets, and sewed their clothing. She never questioned that they were boys, or that they would be twins; she just knew it to be so.

  The dreams began in the middle of her pregnancy. Frightening, horrific images of blood, fire, and pain terrorized her. Each night she awoke, frantically screaming as cold sweat clung to her ivory skin, her heart racing with panic.

  In her dreams, they came to slay the babes:

  “We will purge you of the demon spawn. We are saving you from the devil’s hand.” They would cry.

  Originally, Lyndell thought the nightmares were random images born of fear. Fear of the heritage that had created the lives within her, fear that the villagers would find out her unborn children’s true heritage. However, as the dreams continued, Lyndell understood they were a warning sign for her to prepare for what could come to pass. The thought of the violent slaughter of her infants was too impossible for her to believe.

  Would they really callously murder her babies to serve what they considered the greater good? How could killing infants serve any greater purpose?

  Inevitably though, with the horrid nightmares prodding her, she made the arrangements. She hoped her nightmares were just her nerves. She hoped her knowledge of their heritage was simply playing tricks on her fragile state of being. But, before long, the knowing overwhelmed her. She knew her plans were no longer just in case. She knew no matter what the cost, she must keep them safe.

  When her sons came screaming from her womb, their fragile bodies entering this difficult and perilous world, Lyndell could delude herself no more. It was no accident her sons came forth on the night of the full moon. As the first pangs of labor assaulted her, she knew the truth of all she’d seen.

  The dreams were warnings! She was aware of the gift she’d inherited from her grandmother. The gift of sight had been passed to her as it had to the generations of women before her.

  She was also conscious of the responsibility that came with such a gift. She felt the mingled sense of relief and grief that this wisdom brought her.

  When the plump, elderly midwife glimpsed the bright red mark on both the newborn babies’ left shoulder blades and their unnatural golden eyes, panic and fear consumed her. She crossed herself with wide eyes, and in that moment, the midwife set into motion the cataclysm that would turn Lyndell’s nightmares into a reality. Without even bothering to help clean the infants or tend to their mother, the woman ran from the cabin screaming.

  “Demons!” she cried, “Satan born! God, save us!”

  Lyndell’s infant sons, tiny and perfect to her, were marked.

  Each had a perfectly shaped crescent mark on their bodies. The mark of the moon was imprinted upon their tender skin, the mark of their father. She could not keep the babies with her in this place.

  Thankfully, as planned, one of her closest friends had been with her. Merilynn stayed behind in those critical and desperate moments to help with the infants. It was she who put their carefully laid plans into motion, promising to return for Lyndell and the boys the next night.

  Merilynn and Rowena had long been Lyndell’s dearest friends. They swore to each take a child and escape this foul place. Neither of Lyndell’s friends were aware of the horrific fate that awaited her. She had withheld that from them carefully.

  In these moments when she should have been basking in the new life she brought forth into the world, she was instead preparing to give those new little lives away forever. Still weak and tired from the long and strenuous birth, Lyndell packed all she had prepared for her offspring. She moved as quickly about the one-room shack as her battered body would allow. As she did so, she silently prayed to whoever would listen to keep her precious sons safe; to keep them alive.

  During her desperate and silent pleading, a feeling of warmth and hope washed over her. A tingling feeling tickled her senses, soothing her fears and worries. It offered comfort; removing all doubt from her heavy heart. Reminding herself that this was the only way, she regained strength and confidence in her choice and moved toward her sons’ cradle.

  Somehow her sons were important. She knew this as surely as she knew she needed air to breathe. She had known it instinctively the moment she felt those first little nudges pushing against her swollen, growing belly months earlier. She’d seen them grown and strong in her dreams. Now, as she watched them fuss and wriggle in the cradle before her, she had no doubts about the significance of their birth. Nor did she doubt the names she laid upon them then. She knew she could at least give each son a part of their heritage in their names.

  Looking down at her first born she named him Jarrett, after her father William Jarrett. He had been a kind and gentle man, but clever and strong. She turned to the second of her sons and named him Cade, after her only love, the father of the tiny lives before her, Samuel Cade.

  Oh, how Lyndell wished their father would have come. They could have left as a family, instead of being ripped apart by reckless, unforgiving fear. Samuel could have kept them safe. She imagined him teaching the boys the knowledge of their inheritance. She wished he could have held them in his strong arms at least once.

  Unfortunately, it was not to be. Samuel believed that no love was strong enough to keep them safely together. If the villagers found out, it would surely mean death. People beli
eved they knew him for what he was, and judged him for it. They didn’t understand. They didn’t know of his love, his compassion. They could never understand how he would do anything to protect her. No, they did not understand him at all, she thought.

  She remembered back to that last night, as they lay in bed, and how she had begged him to take her away from this place. She was desperate to be with him, even if it meant living with those like him. He would not waver though. He knew that if his kind found out about her, the end would be the same. To be together would mean death. It was ironic that both of their worlds held the same amount of intolerance for each other; yet each one had no idea how much they resembled each other through their indifference.

  The tiny cry from the cradle pulled her away from her thoughts. She scooped up the younger of her two sons, and his fretful fussing stopped as she brought him close. She knew that she could never regret any of it. She was given the most precious of gifts: her sons, his sons.

  She hadn’t the courage to tell him then. She knew it would hurt him too deeply to leave her knowing of the coming babies. He had suffered so much when he left her. Lyndell could not cause him any more pain. If he learned that he had endangered her life in spite of all his precautions, it would only haunt him.

  In truth, both of them would willingly give their lives to save the other. Now she would give her life to save their sons, and he would never know what happened here. She could spare him that, at least. She could only hope that her dearest and truest friends could cope with the changes they would be forced to endure…

  A soft tap at the wooden door announced Merilynn’s arrival. She hurried to the door, admitting her friend. Lyndell embraced her quickly.

  “Are you ready, little sister?” Merilynn inquired urgently.

  “Truly there is no way to be ready, but this is something I must do. They will come soon. They will come with their twisted version of faith and truth,” Lyndell replied, pain lacing every word.

  “We will meet at the Creek to handle the parting. Come… we must hurry. Rowena already awaits.”

  Lyndell slowly sunk into the old wooden rocker her father had lovingly carved for her mother so many years ago. She ran her free hand over the arm of polished wood, softened with age, and looked down at the tiny perfect face in her arms. She was aware what was to happen next, but found it difficult to get past the grief tearing at her heart.

  “I will not come with you,” she choked out past the lump in her throat. “I cannot be seen traveling with you. I must stay behind to keep them away.” Tears began to well in her green eyes, causing them to shimmer in the dim candlelight. “They would follow us if they found me gone, hunting us down to brutally massacre us. I have seen it. I must remain here if you are to have any hope of saving my sons. I will tell them that the babes died in the night. I have already marked the graves.”

  Bending down and grabbing Lyndell’s hands, Merilynn cried out, “You cannot! They will kill you!”

  Already aware of her fate, Lyndell looked into her friend’s soft brown eyes, and pleaded desperately, “You must keep them safe! Keep them hidden. Do not let their mark be known.

  Swear to me, Merilynn! Please tell me you will keep them safe. Protect my sons.”

  Shocked by this turn of events but understanding there was no time for argument, Merilynn could only reply in a choked voice, “I swear it!” The moisture built in her eyes as well, and she turned her back to Lyndell in an effort to be strong for the sister of her heart. She walked over to the cradle and scooped up the younger infant, then said vehemently, “I will give all that I have, all that I am to protect them. We will love and cherish them, Lyndell. We will make sure they are told of you.”

  She knelt before Lyndell, the infants between them. Both women looked down at their little faces. Merilynn grabbed Lyndell’s hand, and as the tears escaped her eyes, she promised, “I swear this to you, sister of my heart. On my life, I swear it!”

  Lyndell nodded, nuzzled Cade’s neck for a moment and kissed his soft downy hair. Then she leaned over and did the same to Jarrett. The tears from her green eyes fell onto their soft pink skin as she did. The time before she had to let them go was short, and though she didn’t fully understand everything, she knew she could not prevent what was to be now; she could only hope to alter it, and possibly avoid what she knew would come later.

  Tenderly feeding each child from her breast, Lyndell wrapped them carefully in the soft, knitted blankets she had lovingly made for each one. After helping to load them into the little wagon that would take them to the creek, Lyndell grabbed Merilynn’s hands and slipped a small piece of parchment and a bulging envelope to her, saying, “This is all that I have to give them to remember me.”

  Merilynn squeezed Lyndell’s hand in response, taking the items from her.

  Lyndell kissed each son for the last time, whispering a simple blessing of protection over them; the spell stole away the last of her strength, but that didn’t matter anymore. She gave them all she could. She had poured all the love she had into them with a few simple words.

  When she finished, she looked back to one of the two extraordinary women she was entrusting with her sons’ lives.

  Merilynn tucked the bit of folded parchment into her dress and nodded solemnly. There was nothing more to say. Time was running out.

  Lyndell could not look back as she heard the cluck of Merilynn’s tongue urging the horses and wagon along to the north. It departed with the most precious cargo it had ever carried. Instead of watching them grow smaller with distance, she turned to look to the east.

  I have done all I can do to save them, she thought as her silent tears fell softly down her face to settle on the damp earth at her feet.

  The night turned grey, and as the lightening sky created soft morning shadows, Lyndell saw the torches in the distance. Squaring her shoulders, she stood proud and ready to meet her fate.

  Chapter One

  Colorado, present day

  Exiting the suit shop, Cade tossed the bag carrying his old clothes over his shoulder. He smiled at the chirp chirp as he pressed the button on the keypad he was holding in the palm of his hand. He pushed another button, and the ignition to the Jag turned over and hummed soothingly. Dropping his bag in the passenger seat, he traced the smooth, shiny metal with his fingertips as he moved around to the driver’s side.

  Reaching for the door, he glanced over the top of the car. Directly across the road, he saw her. A strange shock coursed through him. Her profile was remarkable. Cade paused in his movements to simply stare at this beautiful woman. She looked as if she were waiting for someone, or something.

  The icy blue silk dress she wore caressed her soft curves, accentuating her exquisite form. The fabric swayed from the movement of her hips, enticing him with each step she took. Even in her nervous pacing, her movements were graceful. As she moved back and forth from the door to the building behind her, she lifted her hand and then dropped it, as though she’d changed her mind. She appeared uncomfortable, glancing down the street searching for whatever it was she was waiting for. Her discomfort intrigued him. What could she possibly be so nervous about?

  He couldn’t help but notice that she had a slim, limber body that moved gracefully, with curves in all the right places.

  As she paced back and forth, he noticed the slit in her dress, showing a good portion of her long, smooth leg. Looking even more closely, he saw her shiny, multi-toned, golden-blond hair glistening in the fading sunlight as it cascaded down the middle of her back.

  He would have been content to spend the rest of the evening standing there, just watching her. Then, as if it were part of a planned conspiracy against him, the air stirred, lifting her hair slightly off to the side. The breeze picked it up, tickling it across her back. His evolved sense of smell singled out her scent easily, floating over to him on the same breeze that stirred her hair.

  He inhaled her scent. The beast within pulled at him, wanting to draw in more of her sultry
and womanly flavor. Cade bit back a groan. The soft citrus smell held a tantalizing honey undertone.

  In that moment as he was still reeling, she turned, fully facing him, and Cade knew why he had stayed. He knew what he had been waiting for.

  Her face held him captive. He froze, and looked upon her beauty in its entirety. She had soft, full, unpainted lips and iridescent blue eyes that took his breath away. Her eyes could stop any mortal man in his tracks. A small, pert nose that was just the right shape for her was set between cheekbones that looked to be created by nothing less than a master sculptor.

  Cade could barely draw breath; his chest felt tight. He believed right away that he should know her. She looked so familiar, and yet at the same time she wasn’t. No, she looked perfect, he thought. Almost as if she had emerged from a dream; a dream he would be happy to stay in for a long time.

  As he stood there entranced by the woman, a long, sleek limo pulled up to the curb, and the driver exited from the vehicle tipping his hat toward her. She smiled at him. It was an elegant and radiant smile, but less than sincere; as if it was somewhat forced.

  Even more curious now, he watched while she made her way to the car with a slight wariness as she drew closer to the vehicle. She acted as if she were going to a funeral. Maybe she was.

  Cade had a sudden urge to rush over and save the mysterious woman from whatever it was she appeared to be avoiding. When the driver opened the back passenger door, her smile fell. She cautiously scanned from left to right as if she knew someone was watching. The driver motioned for her to enter the car once again. She smiled slightly at him and took a slow, deep breath, as if calming herself. She then slipped gracefully into the limo.