Chereads / The Exiled - The Shadow, His Wytch & Her Dämon / Chapter 1 - Prologue - Part One

The Exiled - The Shadow, His Wytch & Her Dämon

🇺🇸StasiaMorineaux
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Synopsis

Chapter 1 - Prologue - Part One

Three Years Before

The Shadow was there, watching. He was constantly astonished at how oblivious humans were to what was going on around them. They were so blind to what was always at the edge of their vision, existing at the periphery of their lives and senses.

But Nika was different. It was almost as if she could sense him near her, making his job as her protector, her guardian, her Dämon, a little more problematic than the norm. Perhaps it was her upbringing, coupled with her lineage, that was the cause of this disconnected cognizance—her mother had been an Eldrikin Wytch, one in a long line. This gifted Nika with inborn talents that she was only on the cusp of discovering were much more than she'd ever been made aware of.

It hadn't yet been a year since she was placed under his watch, after his predecessor had mysteriously abandoned the post. Now he found himself on a plane heading to New Orleans.

No one on the midnight flight out of LAX that October noticed the brutally handsome man sitting three rows behind the chestnut-haired beauty who was his charge. Manipulating perception was one of his kind's many advantages over humans. Another was never needing to make a reservation for travel. He could merely slip to the Betweox and move freely and invisibly among them.

Sliding the crumpled and overly browsed inflight magazine back into its snug seat-back pocket, he watched as Nika gathered her costuming paraphernalia together. She carefully stashed away her midair couture shop into a leather bag before rising from her seat to stow it in the overhead compartment. For nearly half of the flight, she'd been embroidering minuscule silk ribbons into an array of fall leaves across the front of a gown. It was a creation specifically designed to wear to the costume ball she was traveling towards. The elaborate dress remained draped over her, a makeshift blanket on the increasingly chilly flight, too precious to risk being damaged in the overhead bin.

It was Nika's first journey to New Orleans, and with all the excitement and anticipation she was feeling, her Shadow was doubtful she would have found rest if it had not been for pure exhaustion finally taking over.

He watched as she leaned into Vincent's shoulder, curling her legs up under her as well as she could in the coach seat. She snuggled her pale cheek into the age-softened collar of her boyfriend's distressed black leather coat, with a content smile edging her lips.

She was resting now, which made for the perfect opportunity to catch a few very needed winks of his own. Pulling an undersized airline blanket over his body, he found himself wishing he would have grabbed two on his way down the aisle before takeoff. He stuffed a tiny white pillow between his head and the window, then stretched his long legs across the other two conveniently empty seats. The flight was not fully booked, freeing up the entire row to relax his formidable physique across.

***

The pilot announcing their descent to the New Orleans International Airport interrupted the slumber of the plane's passengers. Waking, the Shadow stretched his arms overhead, the muscles protesting from his nap in such cramped quarters. He watched as Nika stretched her arms above her head in unison, canting her head from left to right to work out the kinks she'd also acquired. Digging around in her bag, she pulled out a small travel pouch that held her makeup. He watched Nika spruce herself up before popping a mint into her mouth. Following her lead, he dug into his pocket and withdrew his own tin of curiously strong mints, then took a swig of water from the tiny bottle the attendant had handed him five hours earlier.

***

Her Dämon watched as she perched at the edge of the fountain that was the centerpiece of their French Quarter hotel's brick courtyard. Clear spouts of water burbled from the mouths of four statuary frogs into the pool sitting beneath their cement amphibian feet. She was cooing at a family of turtles, attempting to coerce them to the surface with a piece of croissant left over from her breakfast. He sat on the other side of the courtyard at a small verdigris café set, hidden from view by a newspaper and his influences. Waiting.

It was her first night in the Quarter, and he'd decided that with the immense number of revelers on the streets, he could risk being in form and not hidden behind the deceptions of his kind. With his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his long wool coat, he fell into step with her small group of friends, losing himself a few bodies behind her as they made their way through the fog-enshrouded streets. They navigated merrily down Esplanade Avenue, crossing to Royal, then down Ursulines and Chartres.

With every step of their route, Nika's eyes were full of wonder. Beautiful and captivating objects in shop windows drew her attention one after another. She stared up at the delicate and ornate, awe-inspiring architecture of the city. She marveled at the allied feelings of the people around her upon entering Jackson Square. Kindred spirits all gathering in this amazing city for the same event. All of them traversing through the magical night as thick mist rolled in off the river to lend an even more dream-like ambiance to the experience.

Her Dämon found himself completely enchanted by her. He watched as she drew her very first breath of the magic-tinged atmosphere of the French Quarter. Her eyes grew wide and her smile enormous with each step deeper into the city she'd dreamed of visiting for ten years.

Moisture clung to the exposed skin of his face, settled into his dark hair, further enhancing his features. He raked his fingers through his damp and slightly unruly locks, pushing them back from his face. He tugged his collar up higher to ward off a chill. The humidity of the day had abandoned them, and fall was officially taking its place.

The full moon cast misty images of the people wandering through the night against the fog, turning them into shadow puppets in a play. They walked unaware of what wandered the streets among them, possibly hunting them. Not Nika. His Nika would be safe.

He could feel her heart soaring. She beamed as she oohed and aahed over favored objects in the windows of the closed shops, steering Vincent's attention to any number of things as they passed. Jazz floated through the air along with the lingering and delectable scents of Creole cuisine. She was giddy, and Vincent got caught up in the lure of her infectious delight. He kissed her and vowed his undying love then and there. Her Shadow clenched his jaw, with his fists held tightly in his pocket.

An adorable tabby cat sat serenely in the window of a loom shop. Nika tapped on the glass and spoke to the feline as he rubbed his furry jowls against the glass, trying to reach her hand to be petted.

Lost in his own beguiled state of mind, her Dämon nearly ran into her. He veered away just before colliding into the couple, barely sidestepping from jouncing the three of them into the storefront. The startled cat dashed away from the glass and into the depths of the shop.

Regaining his normally cool composure, the Shadow slid effortlessly away. He remained unseen by Nika, but still observed the sweet expressions of her face as she looked into the night sky, breathing in the magic of the city . . . and the love of her young man.

She pulled her attention back to Vincent as she slipped her hand into his. Their group peered into a toy store window, all exuberant as children at the old-fashioned toys tucked away inside. Before continuing on their way, they paused to ask a young woman walking by to snap a photo of them. Anya removed the Nikon 35 mm from around her neck, handed it carefully to the woman, and briefly showed her how it worked.

They all struck a silly pose in front of the toy store window that was bursting with color and cheerful lighting. The Shadow couldn't help but grin widely at Nika's jubilance as she pointed into the window and pulled a goofy face for the camera before bursting into laughter. Onward they went, laughing and carousing down the slate pavement through Jackson Square, past Madeleine's—where the young women all agreed to gather in the morning for café au lait and pastries—toward Decatur. They waited for a mule-drawn carriage to pass, then crossed the street and entered the mecca that was Café Du Monde.

Nika hooked her arm through Vincent's and let him lead her to a vacant table near the railing where they could watch passersby and have a front-row seat to the trio of jazz musicians taking up roost near the café. A tattered hat was set on the ground in front of their feet collecting tips from many music lovers as they paused to enjoy the impromptu performance.

Her Dämon watched as she had her first sip of café au lait made with chicory and her first taste of a beignet. He delighted as her face became awash in bliss with the very first bite. She giggled while trying to remove the avalanche of powdered sugar that cascaded down the front of her velvet dress and settled onto her lap. The white stood out starkly against the black velvet.

He followed as Nika wandered away to watch the making of beignets through the large viewing window at the back of the café, and as she first set eyes on the meandering Mississippi. "Down by the river where it's warm and green." He heard her sing dreamily, a line from a song by Concrete Blonde.

As they walked hand-in-hand along the Moon Walk, Vincent pulled her into his arms, twirled her in a circle, bringing forth another bout of her sweet laughter, before whispering in her ear and kissing her.

Her Dämon turned his eyes away. She was a truly enticing creature, and this boy could never fully appreciate her.

He watched as she fell more in love with the city the longer they meandered throughout the Quarter. He stayed with them, with her, to be certain she remained safe on their walk to the hotel. Remaining vigilant until she was safely tucked away in her room, before retiring to his own.

***

The Shadow was indulging in an evening cup of dark French roast and a pastry from Croissant D'Or when the four young women met up at the courtyard fountain, breathless with excitement and fawning over each other. Exclamations of excitement wafted to his ears on the breeze. They were adorned in extravagant costumes for the Halloween festivities being held at St. Elizabeth's. Nika was wearing the Georgian ball gown she'd been putting the finishing touches on while in flight.

She was close to otherworldly as she swept past him, never glancing his way as she rushed with her friends through the gaslamp-lit enclosure to the cab outside the wrought iron gates. The three young men trailed behind, adjusting cuffs and cravats, and deep in conversation about the bands that would be playing. They were running late and anxious to get to the gathering.

Her Shadow folded the newspaper he'd been reading and left it on the table for the next patron looking for a quick read. He placed a polished stone on top as a weight so it wouldn't blow away with the river breeze. Gathering his coffee to-go cup and pastry wrapper, he deposited them in the waste bin on his way out the gate. He'd dressed for the occasion as well and was decked out in a costume worthy of being seen in Lord of the Rings; the difference being that it was not a costume but attire he was very accustomed to wearing on a regular basis when he'd ridden front steed of the High Shield, the most prestigious division of the Eldrikin Guard.

***

The masquerade ball was beyond any and all expectations. The venue, St. Elizabeth's, had once been an orphanage but was now the private residence of a highly celebrated author. It was expansive and opulent, covering an entire city block in the lush Garden District. No expense had been spared by the hostess when it came to decorations, entertainment, or refreshments. The recently renovated building now showcased highly polished dark wood floors, wall tapestries, draperies, and furniture of the most luxurious quality. It was a step back in time.

It was a dream night. Trinkets, keepsakes, and programs were being handed out at the door as enthusiasts of the author passed over the threshold. Food and drinks were being served endlessly in the courtyard.

Not an hour had passed since their arrival before the close-knit friends found themselves gathered beneath a strand of gently swinging paper lanterns which were festooned throughout the giant oak trees lining the perimeter of the huge courtyard. The group was engaged in a somewhat lively exchange of words with a couple they'd met while waiting in line at the outdoor bar. The conversation centered around a series of books by the author, and whether the movie was better than the book.

Vincent hugged Nika, then grabbing Ethan, Collin, and their two new friends, went in search of bands in the grandiose house. Musical offerings were being presented in two rooms at opposite ends of the building. Excusing themselves to hunt down a powder room, Karina, Mari, and Evie made plans with Nika to meet back up shortly in the ballroom where a presentation of baroque dancers was to take place. She couldn't wait to watch them, and participate in the minuet lessons to follow.

Her Shadow trailed as close as he dared as she wove her way through the revelers, getting caught up in the shuffling stream leading up the elegant stairs. Nika found herself being jostled into a room full of props on the third floor, having been completely swept past the second-floor landing and on upward. Music played from a sound system set up in the corner near a snack station offering canned sodas and various Halloween treats. The room featured a red felt-covered pool table, but the obvious centerpiece was an antique looking casket sitting on a raised dais. It was full of plastic eyeballs, souvenir voodoo-mojo satchels, and rubber rats with painted red eyes. Chairs and café tables lined the walls, waiting for guests.

Nika stopped suddenly, her focus darting around the dim room. "Hello?" she called out, looking down one connecting hall and then in the opposite direction through another doorway. Her brow furrowed in that familiar way it did every time she thought she wasn't alone. The room remained silent, with no response forthcoming from its darkly obscured corners.

His ward often scanned crowds, thoroughly searching for something beyond her sight, peering deeply into the space he occupied, yet seeing nothing as he remained invisible to her. Her brow would crease in confusion, she'd bite her lip in concentration, and her gaze would dart about as if she'd lost something precious, before she'd stumble back into a conversation or move onward through a crowd. Then her Dämon could relax and blend back into the throng of people to reserve his magic, no longer needing to slip behind the delicate curtain that hung between their worlds.

"I've wandered off to an attic room in a very old, probably haunted, New Orleans mansion. Not the smartest thing to do, Nika." She laughed nervously.

They were alone. No guests and no ghosts.

His kind watched. Protected. Always unseen. Always at the fringe of her life, never in it. Those were the rules. He was nothing if not exemplary with rules. He was honor-bound to protect her—body, mind, and soul.

By now the period dancers had most likely begun spinning beautifully around the ballroom somewhere on the level beneath her. She just wanted to find her way there. Wanted to get back to exploring every room the mansion offered. Wanted to take part in every event. It was a perfect night, and she was missing out on too much while being lost in the incredibly shadowy and deserted portion of the house.

Shivering as a sudden cold burst swept past her, she wrapped her arms around herself and ran her unseeing gaze over him, past him. She turned first one way, then the other as she tried to decide which direction to go, determined to reunite with her friends.

A furtive motion and soft scuttling noise caught her attention. A dark and indistinct mass low to the floor moved from under the pool table to behind the casket. It might have been a trick of the lighting, or lack thereof, but it spooked her all the same.

Straining her eyes to peer through the gloom, she skimmed the area, looking for a presence other than him. When she looked for him, there was always a look of longing and hope. This trepidation sliding across her features was something he wasn't used to seeing on her.

Nika perked her ears to listen for any other sound beyond the music. She heard a scraping, groaning sound from somewhere in front of her. A low, muffled, depraved snickering from off to her left accompanied it. The sound was terrifying in the way it seemed to slather across her skin.

It brought to mind the swampy midnight pond from her childhood nightmares, full of things no one should ever see. Dank and rotting things that oozed malevolence. Upon awakening from the nightmares, she'd wrap herself beneath layers of quilts while holding her breath, cocooning against the dark things waiting beneath her bed or behind her closet door.

She eyed every surface and unlit corner as she exited the room. The hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention. It dawned on her that she'd become turned around when she entered the attic space. Instead of returning to the hallway from which she'd entered, she found herself in a much gloomier tunnel of a corridor. The ceiling was low and claustrophobic, and she couldn't see to the end of the passage. She had no idea where it might lead, but as long as it was away from the attic room, away from those sounds, that would be just fine.

Nika halted as a figure seemingly crafted from the dark particles of the gloom emerged from the shadows just feet in front of her. He moved forward closing the space between them. As she peered up into the most beautiful male face she had ever seen, relief flooded her body. He was just another young man who wandered too far from the festivities. She felt foolish for being so shaken by the trappings of a Halloween party.

"I'm so sorry, I totally didn't see you there, it's so dark in here," she exhaled the words in a rush of alleviated tension. "I'm all turned around. Do you know how to get to the ballroom? My friends are waiting for me there." She babbled, but the note of relief lacing her voice was audible; happy not to be alone any longer in the nightmare room. She glanced back over her shoulder to the attic. "I think that room got to me, the craziest sounds . . ." Her voice dwindled to nothing as her sight returned to rest on the young man's features.