The following is Chapter One to a book I’m currently working on called Forbidden.
Kyle is part of a prestigious (and arrogant) witch family. As some of the most deadly of the family’s secrets become apparent to him, he finds himself doubting everything he learned about the feud between his family and the Primals. In this family the secrets can kill.
Sitting in the lush living room of his father’s over decorated estate, Kyle amused himself with small tricks of telekinesis. He moved the expensive crystal egg on the fire mantle back and forth letting it teeter on the edge as if it were going to drop to the floor and shatter. The very thought filled him with a bit of satisfaction. His father set the whole meeting up but seemed to always forget the trouble Kyle could cause if ever forced to wait.
He could hear the maids bustling about getting tea and refreshments placed out on the coffee table at the other end of the room where his father often would sit to read. They use to offer him things in the past but finally learned not to bother being he always declined. He always refused to accept anything from his father. Kyle built himself up throughout his life establishing contacts that would be useful later on in life allowing him to become just more prestigious than his father at a much younger age than his father could have ever dreamed of. Kyle suspected his father envied and despised him for this.
Like his father his hair grew dark, nearly black and straight. His skin, the tanned tone of a surfer, he inherited from the old man as well as his average height. The only physical trait he managed to inherit from his mother were his blue eyes with golden flecks around the pupil making him look like what he was, a witch. It must have killed his father to look into his eyes all those years after his mother’s death. She had been the beauty that tamed the beast with her charismatic personality everyone claimed she possessed. Kyle couldn’t remember her as well as he wished with her having died when he was only ten.
Thus was the price of what they were. The war between the witches and the shape-shifters, or primal ones as many called them, caused many deaths in their family, all branches. He had yet to come across any of these shape-shifters and felt quite thankful considering all the stories he heard of them. His mother used to tell him bed time stories about their ruthlessness and how to spot them in the crowds around them. She always told stories in a way that caught his attention. Nothing since then had managed to catch his attention so completely.
The sound of his father’s footsteps pulled Kyle from his memories and his parlor trick with the crystal egg. His father gave him no greeting but instead sat at his chair in front of the coffee table silently expecting Kyle to join him. Exhaling a breath of impatience Kyle rose from the lush leather couch to join his father at the ridiculously expensive set of chairs covered in hard glossy leather and equally uncomfortable cushion.
“Evening Father. What’s on the agenda for today?” Kyle said with the same distain he said at each of his father’s pointless meetings.
“How’s the business going?” his father attempted at small talk once again not that he really cared about much of what Kyle did so long as it didn’t directly interfere with him.
“Better than yours I suspect.” Kyle said nearly sneering. He and his father were both stock brokers. Kyle had more a knack for it than his father did and took every chance to gloat.
“Mr. Duchene, there is a call for you.” She said in a low voice to Kyle’s father before he could respond to the remark. One of the maids entered through a side door. She dressed in a white buttoned down cotton blouse, black slacks and had her mud brown hair pulled back in a low bun. Her black beady eyes said that she missed nothing. Having assisted in raising Kyle from being a teenager on he knew that to be the truth.Her
“Thank you Deidre, take a message and I will return their call when I am finished here.” Deidre nodded her head and exited the room.
“You should mind your tongue, you know what you say can be used against you so long as you wear that talisman.” Mr. Duchene continued to remain eager in reminding Kyle of the downfalls of Ancestor. The magicks within the talismans were not always easy to control and in bouts of anger, resentment, or frustration the strong emotion could set off events without warning. The possessor always needed remain cautious of their actions.
Mr. Duchene owned no such amulet as Kyle’s mother was the head of the family according to their family laws. Only those of blood descent and the eldest of each family’s branch were permitted to keep an amulet for the rest of that said branch.
“Yes, Father, I remember quite well.”
“Now, what have you done lately to ensure your branch continues?” Mr. Duchene asked rather bluntly. This remained the usual conversation of these meeting’s his father would like to force on him. The Duchene’s were a dying family line and he being the eldest and last retained the responsibility to make sure heirs were born before his death to prevent Ancestor from getting another amulet.
“Oh, you know, 1-800-find a wife seemed to be the ideal way to go, but they were all so much like you I had to decline the service.” Kyle responded with contempt. He hadn’t found anything in any woman that would be worthy of more than a glace. Being a witch of this family, his looks were striking and he never had trouble finding those interested in him but he wanted a woman to match his sarcasm, wit, and keep him on his toes. So far his riches, looks, and power were the only things that seemed to spark interest from others and that bored him. He long passed the stage in his life were it excited him to have fun with women to pass the time.
“Do not let your mother’s line pass into history. She deserves more than that from you. You will keep her line alive and you will bring it back from the brink of extinction.” Mr. Duchene raised his voice growing irate with his son’s blasé attitude toward his lineage. It was a long worn out argument that grated on them both and would keep them on rocky grounds with one another.
“Yes father, I understand. Good-bye.” With that Kyle stormed out of the house before memories of his mother filled his mind once again. So many questions surrounded her death making him wonder if it were indeed the shape-shifters that killed her or something else entirely.
Shaking the thoughts from his head he climbed into his 2013 McLaren MP4-12C Spider. He just had the paint on it done and loved to flash it around. The base color was red with tribal black design running along the sides. The interior was leather but he covered the two front seats with seat covers of the grim reaper. He may be a full fledge business man but still only nineteen.
His radio blasted Duce when he turned the key in the ignition and he took off down the mile long drive way not able to get far enough from his father’s estate fast enough. Being a witch came in handy when it came to his constant need to stretch the legs on his car. Topping off the speed remained one of his favorite past times. He glided on the curvy roads of the country leading back into town where he would weave in and out of traffic until he came upon his favorite club Eternal Chaos. The club catered to his kind. Outside his family existed many other witches. They referred to his family as the elite because of how old and powerful they are.
Many witches could do simple spells, used grimoires and had to develop their abilities while his family simply needed to think of what they wanted and received it. They surpassed potions and incantations the day his ancestors bounded the spirit of the single most powerful member of their family to the amulets. To this day amulets were used, protected and created. Without the amulets their family would have no power, though that secret remained well guarded. It was rare as well to have another amulet created. The process proved difficult and required a lot of work. The head of each family held one and it was rare for families to have more than one child so usually the amulet continued to be passed down to the child when the parent died. In rare cases of more than one child an amulet would be created to extend to that new branch.
“Welcome back Kyle.” The door man Don, a large man that fit the very clichéd version of a bouncer, said in greeting as he let Kyle past the rope to the bar. His massive arms remained crossed over his chest clad with a black t-shirt tucked into a pair of dark washed jeans relaxed fit. Other than being free of tattoos the only thing that separated Don from the movie stereotypical bouncer were his cheerful blue gray eyes that made one wonder if he would actually follow through on throwing someone out. Kyle had seen him do so before. Those blue grey eyes could turn near black if he was pushed too far. Kyle nodded his greeting passing the waiting entourage outside that had no chance of gaining admittance to the ever allusive club. It made him chuckle sometimes to see the faces of so many wait in line day after day and never see the inside.
The ambiance inside the club felt soothing but loud. Sexy women danced on stages around the club, as well as servers of genders carrying around drinks. These were the only mundanes ever permitted entrance to the bar without a special invitation. The lighting illuminated a blue hue tonight with mist falling from the ceiling fogging the place up a bit. It resemble the atmosphere of walking in a dream. The bar stretched along the back wall running a good ten feet long. Along the sides were tables and booths and clear center for dancing. The upper floor always reserved for VIP remained blocked off by yet another bouncer.
Heading up the stairs Kyle observed private corners of lush booths with low round table in front of them for drinks and dancing girls. Curtains often closed around the booths to provide privacy to its occupants. A smaller bar than on the first floor covered one wall. The dark mahogany bar had been topped with granite counter tops and the most top of the line glasses, drinks, and bar tenders. Tables across the walls and surrounding the smaller dance floor were tall and square with equally tall bar stools. There were rails all around to allow view of the activities of the floor below.
Kyle’s entire family received access to the VIP floor as well as some well-connected witches from other families. Most of the younger lines would come here to relax and unwind from their lives. It looked fairly empty today. On the weekends nearly every bar stool would be occupied as well as booths. Tonight there were maybe five tables taken, a few bar stools at the bar and a couple of booths.
“I’ll take a Wolfsbane.” Kyle told the bar tender. It was a drink created by his cousin Duke as a joke to the shape-shifters. It glowed red with dragon fruit and spiked with Bacardi Rum. When he received his drink he made his way to an empty booth in the corner away from prying eyes to relax.
Watching those around him dancing and mingling he noticed a woman across the bar watching him. From where he’s sits he can’t see many of her feature but of what he can she looked familiar. He keeps his eyes on her as she does him. She finally gets up and crosses the floor to him. By the time she reaches the middle of the dance floor where the lights are more present he notices the traits of one of the branches of his family. Her hair glowed a healthy golden blond and her body flowed with willowy curves. She could be a ballet dancer. Her confidence exudes her in waves. When she reaches him he could see the gray smokey eyes with flecks of the tell-tale gold around her pupils that indicates her close relation to him. He knew her, but couldn’t seem to grasp her name from his memory.
“Kyle, what brings you here to sulk alone?” Clearly she remembered him.
“I’m not sulking.”
“Delphia, that’s my name. I don’t imagine you remember as the last time we met you were surrounded by an entourage of women throwing themselves at you.” She said with some flippancy.
“Sorry, I remember your face, not so great with the names.”
“No, I guess not.” She said as she sat down with him. “So why are you hiding away here in this dark corner of the bar?”
“I’m just here for relaxation.” He said wishing he’d just gone home. The last thing he wanted was to sit here with family and talk.
“You’re Janie’s son aren’t you?”
“Yes.” His mother seemed to be haunting him today.
“I’m so sorry about what happened to her. How is your father holding up?”
“Oh, you know, bitter and condescending, insist I find a mate to continue the Duchene line.”
“Oh, right I forgot, you’re the last. Don’t you want to be the head of a family? You get to wield an amulet, that’s an honor.”
“Yes, yes, such an honor.” He rolled his eyes at her awe of it.
“If you don’t want it why don’t you pass it along to another family?” she almost looked hopeful at the idea that he’d pass it along.
“I may not like the idea that my family’s hope of surviving has landed solely on me but I would never go against my mother’s wishes and relinquish my amulet to any other member than one of my own children. I just feel rushed to marry and have kids when there hasn’t yet been a woman to interest me to that extent.”
“Oh, I see.” She said with a knowing glint in her eyes. He suspected that was why she thought he was here ‘moping’ in a corner.
“I think I am done for the night. Excuse me. Have a nice night…Delphia.” He nodded to her in a bit of a bow and slipped out of the club before she could continue to interrogate him over his weight baring responsibilities.