Empyrean Born (Origins Book 1) Read online

  Yet there are things you’ve done and produced on your own that we would never have dreamed possible. Magnificent things. Take coffee, for instance. I know humans call oil “black gold,” but it’s not. It’s coffee.

  Looking out for the living - be they human, Empyrean like myself, or anything in between - is my number one priority. It’s for this reason I’m choosing to break our laws and warn you, before-

  “Are you up yet, babe?” Gabe’s voice breaks my reverent concentration, making me jump. The pen leaves a trail of black ink across the otherwise white paper with the hotel logo scrawled across the top. Using his elbow, he pushes open the door connecting our adjoined rooms carrying a tray holding a coffee pot, two mugs, a bowl of cereal, and a huge plate of fruit. Being quite charismatic, Gabe has charmed the hotel staff into allowing us nearly unrestricted access, just shy of Top Chef’ing it up, to their kitchen. The intoxicating aroma of coffee which enters the room seconds before him makes my taste buds sit up and practically beg, aching to have that euphoric first sip.

  “What were you doing?” he asks, setting the tray on the little table near the window. He opens the stiff industrial curtains that adorn almost all hotel rooms, allowing the morning’s rays to filter in through the large windows. I realize I’ve been sitting at the desk for hours but feel absolutely no sense of relief. My mind is still reeling, the burden of all of these thoughts bearing down on me.

  Picking up the paper and wadding it in my frustrated fists, I toss it in the trash can and answer with a sigh, “Scribbling.” I drop myself into one of the more uncomfortable chairs at the table and practically pout. When that has no effect on him, I uncross my arms and pour myself a mugful of liquid heaven.

  “Hmph,” he mumbles around a forkful of melon. “Did you sleep last night? You’re looking a little…” The words stop as soon as he sees my eyes narrow, replaced with a low, rumbly chuckle. “Babe.”

  I have no idea where the rather endearing nickname came from. It’s not like we’re a couple. Not by human standards, anyway. One day he called me babe, and for whatever reason, it stuck. But a lot of times it’s used as a one-word sentence that can mean anything from you’re ridiculous to come here.

  “Are they still out of mini muffins?” I ask, a hint of whine hiding under a yawn.

  Using a strawberry on the end of his fork, he jabs it in the direction of my bowl. “I thought you loved that stuff.” The smirk on his face meets the scowl on mine. “Since when did your palate become so discerning?” he mocks. I’m sure it has to do with what he calls my birthday cake obsession. So... I buy cakes from the clearance rack. Just because Richard forgot to pick up his cake, doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be enjoyed by someone. The clerks at the grocery store bakery went through the trouble of making it. I at least wish him, or whomever, a happy belated birthday while I partake. Besides, what’s better than cake and coffee?

  But what he’s too kind to say is that I’m acting like a bitch. We’ve been stuck in the human world for so long I find myself giving in to the overemotional, knee-jerk reactions humans are prone to, and I’m none too happy about it. Still, I shouldn’t take it out on the one person who is willing to put up with me.

  “Sorry. Thank you for breakfast,” I offer, though this morning I bypass the food and dive straight into the coffee. After a couple of sips of the magical potion, my mind begins to wake up and I mentally kick myself for being an asshole.

  He’s thoughtful for a moment before walking over and picking up the crumpled ball of paper. His eyes scan it before turning his serious look onto me. The one that means, “You’re in trouble, babe.”

  “You know we can’t tell anyone the truth,” he preaches as if I need the reminder. “Especially not this much. Damn, do you think I want to face another judgment?” He places the paper in his empty mug and, with a small spark of his fire, what took me far too long to compose is gone in less than a minute.

  “I know that,” I irritably snap, staring at the mug of ash. My temper and I have a tightly wound relationship, and sometimes… okay, many times, it gets the upper hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to… ugh.” Anger makes me fumble over my words. It’s infuriating, and thus a vicious cycle, but I take a few measured breaths before I continue. “It’s just that with everything happening, I feel like we’re drawing nearer to the end. The actual end of the human world.”

  The sadness and truth behind those words leaves me hollow. A lone tear escapes my eye, and I quickly wipe it away before he can see.

  “Honestly, I have no idea why I keep considering warning them. I don’t even know who I’m writing to exactly. The media would only cause more panic. That is, if they took it seriously in the first place. And if they did, I’d probably get locked up in one of their loony bins.”

  “You never know. It’s 2020, babe. I think people would believe just about anything these days.”

  “That’s true,” I agree.

  When I reach across the small table to pour myself a refill, he stops me, taking my hand in his. “Babe, we’re going to be okay. Not just them. Not just Empyreans. All of us. You and I are going to make sure of that.”

  Nodding and staring at the now sodden bowl of slop in front of me, I half-heartedly smile. Gabe is amazing. He takes care of me and is the sun to my storm clouds. I’m not sure how he manages to remain so optimistic, especially with my grumpy ass biting his head off all the time, but I’d be lost without him. We both know that. He also happens to be the only one I trust. We’ve known one another since the days when I was selected as the Chosen. In fact, he’s one of only a few select individuals who know the real me.

  Huh. The real me.

  If anyone back home knew the real me, I can guarantee I would either have an army protecting me… or I’d be dead. It would depend on who you ask. No one really wants to openly talk about it, but things back home are becoming tense. There are those rising within our ranks who feel we should abandon our home and leave the humans to face whatever fate has in store. On the flipside are the ones who want to protect and preserve the humans and their existence. Of course, I fall under the latter category despite my aversion to their... quirks.

  Lately, it’s becoming clearer to me that, for the greater good, I may not want to ignore my title too much longer. I suppose I never should have. Perhaps if I’d just put my big girl pants on and stepped into the role the Elders had selected me for, things wouldn’t be so fucked up. But no. I’d taken the easy way out. The chicken shit way out. But come on. Do you really think a sixteen-year-old is capable of ruling an entire race of beings? I sure as hell didn’t. Yet knowing what I know now, all of these many, many years later, I worry that it might be too late. As a race, we might be too broken. Back home, the Council, our governing body comprised of crotchety and ancient windbags, refuse to see the division, and I fear it isn’t long before their denial results in an all out civil war.

  Once the Elders were forced to name the Council our leaders, they didn’t waste any time leaving our world, the Empyreal astral plane. They, along with the Creators, set off to embark upon their final journey - the one we all will eventually take - to Praeteritus. The former group I mentioned, the ones who seek to leave the humans and sever our connection to them, intend to prematurely begin our journey - a pilgrimage, if you will - to that final destination. Their plan consists of closing portals and abandoning the Empyreal astral plane, leaving the rest of us to decide once and for all if we’re going to remain with the humans or discard them.

  I’d ask for one clusterfuck at a time, but it’s all woven together in a complex web of widespread chaos. I know this year and all the outrageously fucked up events are due to one of our own being hellbent on destroying the humans, just not without inciting massive panic first. Doing anything with flair doesn’t seem like the Empyrean way, but what the fuck do I know about destroying a world? I will say the toilet paper was a good place to start in regards to instigating panic. For fuck’s sake, toilet paper? Really?

&nbsp
; But I digress. Whoever is behind this wants me to know. I mean, let’s face it… they’re not exactly being subtle. They knew this would draw the attention of the Council and that they’d send someone like me.

  As an Enforcer, I’m charged with hunting down and bringing back those from our world who have either broken our laws or who are not authorized to be here. Crossing astral planes isn’t as easy as, say, crossing the border into another state in the U.S. It requires permission to be granted after you make your request, and your movements can be tracked, if warranted. To remain here permanently is an entirely separate and tedious process.

  In the case of what is currently happening, we have no idea who is behind all the chaos; therefore, I’m flying blind. No one from our world is unaccounted for, and no one’s movements or actions have been deemed suspicious.

  So how do I know it’s one of us and not just freak acts of nature? Well, it wasn’t just because the Council woke up and took notice. Some months ago, before they could even get word to me, Gabe and I received a message.

  More specifically, I received a message at the front desk where we’re currently staying.

  That piece of paper is still tucked away, the words continuously taunting me.

  Come and find me, Valkyrie. Or should I say, Your Highness.

  Grabbing the outside of my jacket, I hear the crinkle of that folded piece of paper. Breathing a sigh, not so much relief as resignation, I zip the interior pocket closed and tell Gabe I’m ready to go. It’s come to this: my identity in black and white. Whoever this asshole is that wrote it, they sure know how to strike a cord of panic. While I know if a human got their hands on it, it wouldn’t make any damn sense and they’d most likely just toss it in the trash, if one of our kind read it… I shudder to think what might happen.

  There are some who like to play on the side of the fence where suspicions and conspiracies lie. Those Empyreans enjoy spying on others, trying to dig up dirt or come up with a way to discredit them, all the while attempting to better their own reputation. Power hungry and manipulative aren’t simply human traits, unfortunately. Getting in the good graces of the Council is pretty simple - do your job. But getting on the Council requires standing out. If you can make yourself out to be some saint while simultaneously bringing to light crimes or wrongdoings by others in esteemed positions such as ours, you would be viewed favorably in their eyes.

  Fucking politics. I don’t go sneaking around and have no tolerance for those who do.

  I could have destroyed the note, but not before discovering who wrote it. Plus, there’s Luke. Asking him for help won’t be easy for me, and I know he’s going to need a compelling reason to even consider it. We aren’t exactly on the best terms. But I have a feeling when he sees this and understands someone has figured out my secret, he won’t have a choice but to listen and hopefully take action. If not for me, then for himself.

  Luke is the Apprentice, the second the Elders chose. Like me, his true identity has been kept secret. In fact, Gabe is the only other Empyrean who hasn’t moved on to Praeteritus that knows about us. The Council doesn’t even know; after all, they were formed only after Luke and I stepped back and refused our titles.

  My history with Gabe is just as significant as my history with Luke. More so, really. When I came of age - that being the ripe old age of sixteen - the Elders were of the opinion that because I was female, I needed a male Protector. That’s when Gabe came into my life. Of course, I resented them for their misogynistic point of view and was ready to lash out as any teenage girl would, but then he and I were introduced. I can’t explain it other than to say it was like our souls connected. Two pieces of a puzzle snapping into place. You might conclude that we would end up a couple. You’d also be wrong. Gabe is what humans would consider gay. At least, I’ve never seen him with a woman. Despite all of them - human and Empyrean - throwing themselves at him, he doesn’t react. Doesn’t even let his eyes roam. We’ve never had a coming out party or anything, but I’m convinced. Hell, I’ve seen how men react to me. That’s not meant to be arrogant. I have tits and an ass. They’re men. They look. I can’t say I’ve always been okay with him being gay, but not because I have a problem with who he is attracted to. It makes no difference to me. Hell, most Empyreans would fall into the human category of bisexual. Love is love. Lust is lust. Whatever floats your boat or raises your mainsail, it’s not my business. We’re very sexual beings, and respect is high on our list of character traits. When it comes to this, anyway.

  No, what upset me about Gabe not being interested in me is due to the fact that he is very attractive. Admittedly, I wasted more than a few years trying to get him to notice me in that way. To be blunt, I had a massive crush. It took some time, but now he’s simply Gabe. Okay, clearly, he’s much more than that. He gets me, which, after how many millennia, only stands to reason. Yet how he goes out of his way to do little things, like bringing me coffee despite insisting I’m going to get an ulcer, only adds to the attraction I feel toward him. Something I’ve worked hard to convince myself isn’t real.

  He also happens to be one of the most gifted Empyreans I know. Even by our standards, he’s exceptionally, if not unnaturally, strong and fast. More than that, he has the ability to wield the elements water and fire, a powerful and convenient combination that few possess.

  Some Empyreans can manipulate a singular element. However, if someone can manipulate more than one - an exceedingly rare quality - one is always more predominant. Yet this isn’t all we Empyreans may be blessed with. Most are granted one of three gifts: the gift of mind, soul, or body. They’re the fundamental core of our kind. The various combinations of gifts and elemental abilities are where the tests from my youth came into play.

  My particular blend of powers is… well, unique. I actually have a bit of everything, which is why I was named the Chosen. Unfortunately, not all of my abilities are as honed or developed as the others. For instance, the gift of body. Like Gabe, I also have seemingly impossible speed, but while I’m incredibly strong, I’m nowhere near as strong as Gabe. Doing more crunches at the gym won’t aid me in achieving what he has. Believe me, I’ve tried. That led to another realization. I fucking hate working out. I’d much rather be eating a donut while counting his sit ups, licking the jelly from my fingertips as I mentally picture licking jelly from the indentations of his abs.

  Okay, Val. Get back on point...

  The tests conducted during my youth have never been repeated. To our general population, the results were inconclusive, resulting in the creation of the Council. It was plausible enough that no one has ever questioned it. However, lately, there have been those who have petitioned for another series of tests, this time in the eye of the public. Many feel desperate for a leader and would like nothing more than to disband the Council - what some perceive as an outdated institution. Even the humans’ governments evolve, despite complaints about term limits. We’ve had the same system, with the same Empyreans leading the Council, ever since the Elders left.

  If the tests were to be repeated, a part of me wonders if Luke or myself would participate. I could see him jumping at the chance for more power. Knowing Luke now, the thought of him passing up the opportunity to rule an entire race of beings is laughable. But back when we relinquished our titles, he was different, not nearly as concerned with his stature. Or maybe he was just trying to impress me because he liked me. That seems like a stupid reason to give up something so significant, but who knows. Teenage boys, right?

  My mind has been too focused on the current disaster in the human world and locating the individual behind it to give much thought to such things. I really do hate politics and refuse to be sucked in. Until it’s absolutely necessary, I am willing to overlook the tension at home and concentrate on the task at hand.

  Currently, that task is locating Luke. It’s been quite a number of years since I last saw him, and he has the annoying habit of disappearing and reappearing, always leaving it up to him when we’ll meet
again. I’m sure he’ll be surprised to see me given that we were just recently able to track him down.

  It’s not unusual for us to change our names and identities when we cross into the human world; it’s one of the perks, you might say. But being immortal, it’s also a survival or preservation technique. We can make subtle changes to our appearance or come up with different versions of our past. Our only limitations are that we don’t mess with the trajectory their society is on. Meaning, for example, we aren’t allowed to run for any political office or become some renowned humanitarian.

  Trust me, Luke is in no danger of either of those things. And he does enjoy his freedom. Perhaps a little too much. He frequently changes his identity, and with the shady characters he surrounds himself with, he can disappear with ease.

  The Council can monitor any Empyrean’s movements at will. Technically speaking, I could go to them and ask that they track Luke for me, but that could prove to be problematic. For one thing, Gabe and I have been after this dickweed who's been wreaking havoc on the humans for months, and we’ve had no success. True, that’s out of the ordinary for us given we’re in the elite group of Enforcers, but going to the Council would be the equivalent of sneaking back home with our tails between our legs. The other thing is, we don’t have time to go home and wait for the Council to hear us out.

  No matter. We’ve found him.

  As an architect in the human world - and perfectionist that he is by nature - he likes to keep close tabs on his projects until they’re complete. So here we are, dropping by one of his nearly finished buildings very unexpectedly. Despite the fact that this place is ready to open, Luke wants to ensure every little thing from lightswitch covers to the grout along the tiled floors is in pristine condition. At least that’s what the last guy we spoke to told us. Well, he may have been more blunt than that, calling Luke a “motherfucking control freak” and “pain in the ass” before giving us this address.