A Daughter's Fury

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A Daughter’s Fury

BY: Raelyn Taylor

By Raelyn Taylor

Copyright 2017 Raelyn Taylor

Smashwords Edition

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Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Epilogue

About Me

Contact

Other Books

Part One

"The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep."

- Robert Frost

Chapter One

Fort Worth, TX

Living on the run is not as exciting nor as romantic as Hollywood may lead us to believe. The truth of living on the run is that it sucks. It consists of; three outfits, two pair of shoes, crappy food, bed bug infested motel rooms, daily nightmares, and of course, the constant neck cramp from looking over my shoulder every five minutes.

Why would a seventeen-year-old be living like this some may ask. Well remember, curiosity killed the cat.

Another fun fact of living on the run is that it warps the mind. Specifically, the part that trusts people. Take for example, if someone were to drop into the seat across from me, as someone was now. A normal person would not have the same response that I do. A normal person would be polite and try to be helpful. The first thing I do before even lifting my gaze is wrapping my hand around the grip of a 9mm suppressed H&K pistol.

Yes, it is illegal for a seventeen-year-old to own and carry a pistol. Did I care? Not in the slightest.

Raising my gaze as I drew the pistol inspecting the man before me. Early to mid-sixties, tall, straight back, proud shoulders, and a well-maintained build. With a headful of snowy white hair, all he was missing was the beard, glasses, belly and he could portray Santa Claus in a few months. With a quick analysis I determined that while he was past his prime he could inflict damage in a physical fight. His sharp eyes spoke of keen intelligence, that in of its self could destroy me.

His eyes flickered over me taking assessment such as I had. I wonder what he sees when he looks at me with those discerning eyes and razor-sharp mind?

I hope you don’t mind if I sit and rest for a moment or two. These old knees don’t hold up as well as they once did. He gave a kind smile, the smile that would make anyone trust him. Except for me.

I shook my head. Not a problem, I was actually just leaving. I glanced around the small but cozy dining area for the deli of the country grocery store. Half the seating was occupied, operational security cameras with overlapping coverage. These surroundings were not optimal if I had to defend myself. Any such action would draw unwanted attention to me, attention I could not afford. I stayed seated, waiting.

The man gave up the pretense of rubbing his knees. I’ll cut straight to the chase. I can help with your problem. Specifically, your monster problem. Now don’t give me that look. He scolds. You’re well aware of what I speak of. I can help with that. There is a place where you will be safe. He stands and drops a card on the table. He gave a small smile before walking away.

Images flash through my mind. Claws, fur, teeth, unreal speed and strength. Things that came out of nowhere and fought like the devil. I closed off the memories. Eyeing the card as though it was a viper I continued on with my meal. When the last of the tomato soup, grilled cheese sandwich, and herb salad had been consumed I stood. With a snap decision I pocketed the card walking out of the country grocery into the gleaming sun. Crossing the street, I entered a park full of Caddo, Bigtooth Maples and Canby Oaks. The leaves were evolving into stunning orange, reds, and yellows with the mid-October chill.

I had rented a cramped studio apartment across from the park. The view and access to good food made up for the tiny living space. However, with one back pack filled with my possessions I did technically have enough space. Yet, spend enough time surrounded by four walls and only a small amount of space to work out, it did nasty things to even the sanest of minds.

In the past month and a half since I had relocated here for hunting, I had been fine until a week and a half ago. During that first month I had only been at the apartment to catch my usual two or three hours of sleep before heading out again. Then my leads ran cold and I had nothing to occupy my time. So, I had taken to running in the morning, afternoon, and evening, and sometimes in the dead of night as well.

It was time to move on from this city. It contained no answers for me. After seventeen months of searching for anything and coming up with nothing over and over again. This is when I should start to question my sanity.

Insanity: (noun)- doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.

Yes, that qualified. Something had to change. The man from the store popped into my mind.

He did say he could help, I thought. While I did not trust the word of a stranger I was near about desperate. Pulling the card from my pocket I read the writing.

ιερό των ηρώων

Great! Greek, a language I cannot speak nor read. I knew it. It was some type of weird prank. I shook my head in disgust. Stupid of me for even considering a stranger magically appearing in the nick-

Pain overwhelmed my mind, a heavy blanket of black smothered my senses, closing my mind. Remaining conscious long enough to feel the jarring impact with the ground. I lost my grip on reality and everything went black.

* * *

Embers of light penetrated the darkness. Thousands of needles pricked my mind forcing it from blessed darkness. A place of nothing like the black hole’s scientist spoke of. A place of eternal dark and cold. The pain was excruciating; unlike any physical ailment I had ever faced. That in of its self was saying a lot. The light got brighter and brighter as the pain climaxed. I grasped and pulled the darkness closer and closer as it surged further away from me. I surrendered the fight and awakened.

Prying my eyes open I winced at the vivid sunlight streaming through a window. Where am I? I groaned turning on my side. Soft comfort embraced my hip, ribs, and shoulder. Soft. Why was I on something soft? Last thing I remembered was the park. Followed by suddenly collapsing on a concrete sidewalk. How?

I examined my surroundings. I was in a bedroom. A desk across from the bed on the right of the door and a dresser across from the foot of the bed. I sat up with my eyes closed hoping to diminish the pain. Once the waves of dizziness and nausea subsided I opened my eyes. The blanket that was pulled to my chin pooled in my lap revealing I was still fully clothed. That was a relief. Although I wasn’t wearing my jacket. My shoulder holster was missing as well. With a quick rotation of my ankles I knew my knives were missing from my there as well.

Gingerly standing I checked for my things. My pack was at the end of the bed with my jacket folded on top and my boots were on the side. With a quick inspection of the contents, I found all my weapons missing. Whoever disarmed me was efficient however they missed one tiny slasher tucked away where most men would never thing to check.

Testing the door, the knob easily turned opening up to a hall away. I padded across the wooden flooring. Bypassing a door and a closet on the left. Photographs lined up on the right wall. Several dozens of them clustered together. They seemed to be ordered by year, oldest to present day. From black and white, maybe the thirties or forties judging by the clothing and hair.

The hallway opened up into a great room. Split into a living area on the left and kitchen on the right. The front door was more to the left opening to the living area. On the far end of the kitchen was a breakfast nook set up against bay windows.

Seated at the breakfast nook was the elderly man from the store. Eyes narrowing, I thought back to my last memory. I was walking in the park when I passed out. He was either taking a leisurely stroll or he was following me.

You’re awake, just in time for breakfast. Come sit, eat. He directed from his seat. Two plates heaped with eggs, bacon, and toast laid on the table. Warily I moved closer, taking a seat. Waiting. He took a sip of coffee and flipped a newspapers page before raising a white bushy eyebrow at me.

I’m not going to poison you if that’s your concern.

Sorry but I’m not accustomed to taking food from strangers after waking up in their house. I remarked.

His lips pursed and nodded I see your point. I am Don Jones. I brought you here yesterday after you collapsed. Please eat, it will help with the headache.

Nothing you have said has reassured me. My blood heated, muscles coiled and ready to go. I forced myself to relax, loosening my muscles and deepening my breathing. Why have you brought me here? Anyone else would have called an ambulance.

Don’s forehead furrowed. I will explain. After you eat That remark didn’t sound like it was a command but with the underlying strength it was.

Watching him I took a hesitant bite. Nothing but lightly salted and peppered eggs. I continued to eat, enjoying the taste and comfort of homemade food. I stayed alert for unusual and suspicious flavors. As I continued eating the headache began to dissipate until it was merely an unsavory memory. I polished off the plate and drained the orange juice.

Let’s not beat around the bush. What do you want from me? Before you try and deny it though let’s go over the facts. You initially approached me and left contact information. Within the hour I pass out without any apparent reason. About seventeen hours later, I’m assuming, I wake up in your house, under your control. So, what do you want?

Well I guess I don’t need to ask what you remember from yesterday. He raised his hands. To clarify I don’t want anything from you, so much as to help you. In order for this all to make sense we have to go back. You have to discover and understand who you are.

I sat in silence unable to grasp what he was hinting at. I knew who and what I was. I was my father’s daughter, and now an orphan. I was a ghost in the world, wraiths incarnate. I had no friends, no family, no attachments, I didn’t even have a real name. I was nothing.

What do you know of your mother?

Cold shook ran through my nervous system. My mother. I’ve never met the woman. All I know is she and my father met in Istanbul. Ten months later she left me in my father’s arms and walked away, never heard or seen from since.

Eyes heavy with sorrow, he nodded. Your mother, well she’s not like everyone else. Who- what she is. Well the only way for you to really understand why you’ve never met her and what’s going on in your life is to know who she is. It’s extremely complicated. The thing is, is that you’re not going to believe me. Please hang in here with me.

Just say it already old man, before you give yourself a coronary. Irritation clawing at my nerves.

Athena. Your mother is the Greek Goddess Athena. He blurted

Time suspended momentarily. At first, I thought my ears deceived me, I went back over what he said. I laughed.

You had me going there for a minute. That was pretty good. A little out there, but hey can’t blame you for thinking out of the box.

No amusement laced his face or body posturing. Either he was padded walls worthy crazy or… Thinking back. The past seventeen months I’ve been on the run. Why I’ve been on the run. Maybe just maybe he didn’t belong in a special hospital.

You do realize you sound insane right? I ask befuddled.

"I understand that it sounds crazy. However, it is true you’re the daughter of the Greek Goddess of Wisdom and Crafts. The reason why I approached you is because with your heritage, you’re vulnerable like your ancestors. Perseus, Hercules, and Jason all three of them- Heroes- were plagued by monsters. Hydra, Griffins, Medusa, all of them are real, and unfortunately, they crave the taste of Hero blood. Your blood.

There’s a place where those like you go. It’s a safe place where you can train and prepare for what it takes to survive in this world as a Hero.

I had nothing, no one, no place where I belonged, maybe if this place kept mythical monsters away maybe just maybe they could keep way those of the human variety as well. I ran and hid from my demons while hunting and searching with no luck maybe I needed a break. Everyone needed to breathe, to get away from reality if only for a little while. Someplace to hide if only for a day.

Before I realized it, I was nodding, and had a printed-out bus ticket in my hand. I was to depart this afternoon. As we prepared to head to the bus stop Don went into another room connected through the living room. He came out with a thin but long parcel.

Before you go, I have something for you. A gift from your mother. Unwrapping the thick fabric, revealing a sword. Silver and steel with a beautiful owl at the pommel. Intricate metal weaved to form the knuckle guards, as well as the front and rear arm, the loop, and side-ring. The engravings down the blade were exquisite.

That’s, this is too much. I-I can’t accept such a gift.

Don briefly chuckled. Your mother entrusted me with this for the day when you were found. It is for you, and only you.

Thank you. My voice breathless.

No thanks needed kid. Only doing my job. Now let’s get you to The Sanctuary of the Heroes.

Chapter Two

Folsom, WV

Thirty hours later I found myself stepping off of a Grey Hound bus. Twigs of pine and maple leaves crunching under my booted feet. The air was fresh and sweet of Douglas fir and sugar maples that loitered around the small gas station and the buildings of this one street town. I surveyed the parking lot. Don didn’t bother giving me a description of who was going to pick me up. Or the car they were driving. Apparently, I needed to be psychic to find my designated ride or hitchhike.

A tall blonde approximately two years older than I, strode towards me. She was maybe around my 5’ 6" frame, a lean and toned muscular build. Also, similar to myself. Long honey blonde hair bound up in a ponytail, she wore a purple tank top, black cargo pants were tucked into black combat boots. She held were shoulders back, chin held high, arms loose and at her sides. As she approached a strange tingling erupted in my fingertips it almost seemed electrical. She stopped a foot in front of me.

Raising a hand, I accepted and shook the tingling intensified.

Her grip was strong, by the way she held herself she could probably hold her own in a fight. It wasn’t at all surprising. She flipped my palm over and ran a thumb across the raised silver scar running from the base of my thumb to my middle finger.

Don was right about you, not that I’m at all surprised. Unnamed girl cocked her head I’m Sarah your sister. Half-sister anyway. Come on its getting late and Duke is expecting us. With a perfectly executed about face she left me with that monstrous revelation.

Sister. Shit.

Sarah marched to an older model Ford pickup with a faded blue paint job.

Yanking open the heavy door, flakes of rust fluttered to the ground. I pulled myself into the cab and arranged my pack next to my feet. The cab smelled of wintergreen and something spicy, cinnamon. Sarah cranked the engine it surprisingly turned over easily.

She pulled out of the parking lot and onto the highway. We headed north for a few miles before she turned onto a dirt road with a heading of north-west.

Sister? I ask.

She raised an eyebrow at me. Yeah, my mom is your mom kind of thing. She says in an obviously tone.

My expression of shock remained.

I don’t suppose Don warned you about us, did he?

I shook my head unable to speak, my tongue paralyzed.

Sarah grimaced. I’m sorry I would have thought that he would have prepared you beforehand. Duke told him that I was going to pick you up. Her tone apologetic. Normally I have some tact. Forgive me?

I tried to smile. It’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting… this. H-how many siblings do we have? Gone was the girl who was calm, collected, and could talk her way out of anything. Now this stammering fool took her place. I thought with disgust.

We have six siblings, two girls and four boys. Eight Athenian children in all.

The variety of crisp green pines and the warm fall colored maples was breath taking. With the rolling hills the trees were layered in waves of emerald, warm orange, sunny yellow, and blood red. The thirty-minute drive was finished in silence. After another turn that reminded me of a driveway and another five minutes we pulled up to a two-story grandeur cabin home.

The green metal roof reflected the dying daylight, complementing the dark wood of the structure. Sarah pulled up to the side of the house where three other vehicles were parked. Two vans and another newer and bigger Ford pickup. Leaving the keys in the ignition she hopped out. Following suit, I kept a firm grip on my back pack. We went up the steps onto the expansive porch and through the French doors with white muslin's billowing in the smooth breeze.

As I walked in, the tingling in my fingertips grew stronger and stronger. The fine hair on the back of my neck rose. Straight inside was a blazing fire with comfortable furniture in front of it and on the side. Three male bodies sat huddled on the sofa, locked in an intense discussion. Eyes skimming over them, on the left was a dining table that could easily seat twelve people. A stair case laid beyond that next to a swinging door. There were two people leaning against the wall and on the staircase. They appeared to be around my age. The girl stood with her back to me. She seemed to be around my height, with black hair bound in a French braid that fell straight down her back. The guy stood a head above her with dark brown hair. Strong angular features highlighted by the flames.

On the right of the fireplace was a larger than average door. One of the three men was the first to notice our arrival. He stood abruptly cutting off the conversation. With a headful of dark hair with silver edging he stood at over six feet with proud shoulders and a slim torso.

"You must me Alexandra. Don informed us that he had located you and that you were on your way. I am happy that you