Song of Desolation (Ballads of Mae Book 1) Read online

  Salem Cross

  www.Salemcrossauthor.com

  Copyright © 2020 Salem Cross

  All Rights Reserved

  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

  About the Author

  To my dad who has always been my biggest fan

  To my mom who is always there for me when I need her the most

  To my husband who has encouraged me to follow my dreams

  To my fifth-grade teacher who I hated so much that she inspired me to start writing just so I could plot her demise

  Chapter One

  The grimy, slightly damp, cold bathroom tile against my cheek would have once grossed me out. No matter how much I scrubbed with some of the toughest chemicals on the market, the black mold had permanently etched itself into the grout lines. The yellowish hue stubbornly clung to the tiles around the toilet. Even in college when I got shitfaced every weekend, I would have never put my face against something so filthy… but that was two years ago. Things had changed for me. Apparently, change meant my standards had dropped to an astonishing low.

  In the other room (the only other room in the apartment), I could hear the eighth alarm on my phone go off. I listened to the beautiful crescendo of flutes and birds chirping, wishing it would just shut up. The moment the sound stopped I took a deep breath and pushed myself off the floor. In the downward dog pose, the room spun, and my stomach heaved. Luckily, I hadn’t eaten in a full twenty-four hours or I would have thrown it up there on the bathroom floor. Once the nausea ceased, I reached up and used the counter to pull myself upright.

  The only reason I looked in the mirror every day was to fix my wild curls, cover up the dark circles under my eyes, and to brush the bile off my tongue. The monster I found there was too terrifying to see for long. I took a deep breath, gritted my teeth, and pulled my gaze off the filthy sink. My eyes locked onto the creature I hated so much.

  At first glance, you would assume nothing out of the ordinary about the girl who stared back at me. She was pretty, maybe she could even be beautiful if she put a little effort into it. Yeah, maybe she seemed a little tired. Her tawny-colored skin looked a little pale. Even those wild, thick curls that were twisted into a bird’s nest could be gorgeous after a few rounds with some hair products.

  But that was just your first glance at her.

  It would take you a second glance to notice something was off. My eyes, usually brown, had become a striking glowing violet color. The glow was eerie. Moving from my eyes downwards, you could just make out that same eerie glow running through a few small veins in my neck. That glow ran through my chest, arms, and even in my legs. The violet hue was dim now. The thirty to forty minutes I allotted myself to sleep before an alarm woke me up allowed me to gain just a little control over the energy humming right under my skin.

  Lately, I had noticed even allowing myself that much time between alarms was becoming increasingly dangerous. Several times I woke up to the bed rattling, or more commonly, the tiles vibrating against my cheek. It was terrifying. At any given minute, my power was on the verge of finding release. If, one night, I was too tired to notice the heavy vibration or the shaking of my bed, I could bring the entire apartment building down simply by accident. I used to think the nights were the worst times, never being able to completely fall asleep; it was horrible.

  Now, I knew that daytime was worse. Way worse. During the day there was the constant mental strain to hold back any leakage. Any extreme emotions, any time I got just a little bit too tired, or if I got a little too lost in my work, my mental hold on my power would slip and the world would quake around me. Windows and mirrors shattered; fire hydrants exploded; the roads cracked. It was a nightmare trying to keep on top of it. What was worse was that I knew my power was growing. The stronger it got, the harder it was to keep it at bay. Luckily, I had found something that helped.

  I opened the small drawer under the counter and pulled out two gold roped cuffs. They were old. I’d found the antique cuffs at a pawn shop to use for the spell. There was nothing special about them. They were a bit bulky, but they did the job. Several months ago, I had summoned the spellbook that had appeared in my bedroom mirror when my power first emerged. After over a year of struggling, I prayed for a spell that would kill me. Instead, I found a binding spell. It was almost perfect. With this spell, I was able to go about my day without the threat of accidentally killing someone hanging over me. On top of preventing me from becoming a killer, with these bracelets on, the violet glow under my skin and in my eyes vanished.

  Going through the motions as I did every Monday through Friday, I took a quick shower and applied just a little bit of makeup to cover up the lack of sleep. As I left the bathroom, I picked up the gold bracelets, and then I walked over to the small closet, grabbed clothes for work, and got dressed.

  The studio apartment stunk. I could smell the mold in the walls. Mice scurried across the floor at night leaving their droppings in their wake. The walls were paper thin. I knew when my neighbors were home, when they were having sex, or when they were watching TV. With the state of the entire apartment complex like this, I was surprised my volatile power hadn’t yet crumbled the building to the ground. Despite the less than stellar appearance and sketchy structural integrity of the building, it was better than sleeping in a tent, which was what I’d done for the past year. The rent was dirt cheap, which was rare in the city of Chicago and a godsend for someone who was trying to get back on their feet.

  With a sigh, I slapped the bracelets onto my wrists. The searing pain that accompanied putting them on always caused my eyes to water. Immediately, my skin felt like it was shrinking. An invisible noose slipped around my neck; my breathing came out as short gasps. My heart rate picked up and my bones felt brittle.

  I hated these bracelets.

  The anger I felt at the cards I had been dealt surged through me. Usually, feeling any strong emotion caused my power to leak out which, in turn, caused damage to things around me. When I wore these bracelets, my power was stopped short. Being unable to expel that pent-up energy caused a fiery pain to shoot through my body. I shuddered violently and found it harder to breathe.

  Good. The bracelets still worked.

  After I had regained my breath and the pain had subsided, I attempted to eat a power bar but choked on half of it. Frustrated, I threw the rest of it away. On my way out, I checked my camping gear sitting over by the front door. Every weekend, I escaped the heart of Chicago, opting to head to one of the many campsites on the outskirts of the city. At first, it was just for something to do, but for the past month my camping trips had been mandatory. My power was growing so fast that the build-up from lack of use during the weekday had become too intense, too painful, and too hard to keep at bay even with the spelled bracelets. Out there I could release some of the power that had built up which kept me sane enough to tackle the following week.

  I left my apartment relieved it was Friday. Instead of heading straight to the office, I stopped at my boss’s favorite café to pick up her coffee. It was th
e same drink made by the same barista every day, and every day Sharon spit it out and complained about the drink. But heaven forbid I went anywhere else and ordered the same drink…

  From the café, I walked the eight blocks to the office building Sharon ran her real estate company out of. The city of Chicago was already bustling. People were always in a hurry. They brushed past me with their eyes plastered to their phone screens. Around me, cars honked, slammed on their brakes, and weaved through traffic. It was so loud here.

  I hated the city.

  Not just because of how busy the streets were, or how stale the city smelled, nor was it the self-centered assholes who had their faces buried in their phones. No, I simply hated the city because I knew that if I wasn’t wearing these bracelets, I could bring down every building and kill everyone. That was enough to snuff out any fun I could have in a place like this.

  Six months ago, I was walking the Appalachian Trail, alone and as content as someone could be who had no control over her body. I had walked the Trail for a year. Now I was here. Where I wanted to be was back in my house in Maryland, but there was nothing there for me anymore. My parents had died suddenly in a car accident, and I had dropped out of school due to the lack of control over my new ability. My closest friend, Rebecca Dewey, had ditched me the moment she found out I had power. Before I could hurt any of my other friends, I severed all contact and left.

  No, there was nothing back home.

  I approached my office building in a foul mood. My head was pounding. I should have been used to it by now since the headaches were a side effect of the bracelets. One of the glass doors opened, and someone walked out. I took the opportunity to slip inside the office building. As I did, my cell phone rang. Suppressing a sigh, I reached into my purse knowing who it was without having to check the caller ID. When I couldn’t find it right away, I looked down, still rummaging through my purse with one hand while I held Sharon’s coffee in the other. Blindly I walked forward towards the elevator.

  My fingertips finally contacted my vibrating phone. Just as I pulled it out, I slammed into someone. I would have fallen backward if it weren’t for a pair of strong hands that kept me standing. I gasped as the discomfort from my bracelets evaporated at the contact. I looked up and found myself staring into a pair of brown eyes.

  The man had dark skin, short hair, and a salt and pepper goatee. He was tall, and his shoulders and chest were broad. Even in his expensive tailored suit, I could tell his arms were roped with muscle. I would have pegged him to be in his late forties or early fifties. The surprised expression on his face mirrored how I was feeling.

  Where was the pain that came with wearing the bracelets?

  How was it suddenly gone?

  “Excuse me, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going,” I said breathlessly.

  The gentleman let go of me, and immediately I felt the effects of the bracelets again. I winced at the unexpected surge of pressure in my body. His expression changed from surprised to confused, and then to wary. His eyes narrowed, and I could have sworn he just took a deep breath as if to smell me. His gaze swept over me but paused when he caught a glimpse of the bracelets on my wrists.

  A deep voice behind me asked, “Arthur, everything alright?”

  The man I had bumped into, Arthur, did not answer his friend right away, but his gaze moved away from the bracelets to look behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to see another rather large man directly behind me. I watched as his whole body shook hard once as if he had been splashed with cold water. When he glanced in my direction, the newcomer’s mouth popped open while his brows shot upwards. His hazel eyes looked down at me in wonder. This man was just as tall as Arthur, though he had sun kissed skin, jet black hair that was slicked back, a thick black beard, and appeared slightly leaner in stature.

  “Who—what—” he stammered. The man closed his mouth but opened it as if to say something more, but nothing came out. He shut his mouth again. His expression shifted from surprise to suspicious, just as Arthur’s had. This man’s brows came together, and his lips turned downwards.

  “I’m sorry, I’ve got to get going…” I was suddenly uncomfortable under their oddly piercing stares. I turned and scooted around Arthur.

  Arthur turned with me. His brown eyes drifted over my face and the hairs on my neck rose. What creeps… Just a few feet away the elevator door dinged, and the doors opened. A single individual stepped out. Relieved that I had a chance to escape this bizarre encounter, I bolted.

  As I hopped into the elevator, I sighed. I turned around as the elevator doors began to close. My stomach dropped as the bearded man stuck his arm in the closing the elevator doors, effectively stopping my escape. He stepped into the elevator and pushed the button that shut the doors. He turned to me and gave me a warm, albeit slightly bewildered, smile.

  “Good morning. I apologize for making you uncomfortable back there. You took me by surprise, which on any other day, would be almost impossible to do.”

  Suspicious of his motives, I turned my body forward to face the metal doors.

  “I wanted to check to see if you needed any help,” the man continued as if I weren’t ignoring him. I glanced over at him and found his attention pinned to the bracelets on my wrists. His eyes rose, and I met his gaze. His brows came together, and the corner of his lips turned downwards. “I usually get a pretty good read on people, and I can sense that you are a good person. The spell that coats your accessories… it was not intended for someone like you.”

  I jerked away from him as if he had slapped me. He knew about the bracelets and what they were doing. He knew about spells. I stared at him, stunned. I hadn’t ever crossed anyone else like me… someone with extra abilities. My mind spun with a thousand questions, but which one to ask first?

  “Whatever crime you have committed, it does not justify that type of punishment,” the man told me. He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a sleek yet simple business card. The elevator dinged as it alerted us that it had arrived on my floor, and the doors opened. “If you would like someone to look into your situation, please do not hesitate to contact me.”

  Still stunned, I reached out and took the card he handed me. As I stepped out of the elevator, trying to collect my thoughts but failing miserably, I was able to stupidly ask:

  “Who are you?”

  My voice came out strangled. The man smiled. As I inspected his face, I could see genuine concern for me.

  “Zein Abad, a Guardian at your service, should you need it.”

  Zein bowed his head just as the elevator doors shut. Immediately I panicked, realizing I may have missed my only opportunity to talk to someone who had any type of information about what I was or how to control my power. Just as I reached out to push the button to call the elevator back, my phone began to vibrate again in my hand, pulling me out of my panic. I looked down to see Sharon’s name on the caller ID.

  Seeing her name and knowing the wrath I was about to endure snapped me out of my shock, and I hurried over to my desk. I answered it only to find she had already hung up. Oh boy, I was in for a huge lecture when she got in. Being her only administrative assistant, I got the worst of her ire. Karla quit the moment she had walked me through everything. Little did I know why she was so excited to leave.

  Once I dropped my purse on my chair, I immediately listened to Sharon’s furious voicemail. This took the same amount of time as it did to turn my computer on and load all one hundred and fifty-eight emails. I printed out Sharon’s to-do list that she’d sent. On my way to the printer, I placed the coffee on Sharon’s desk. When I attempted to call my boss back, she did not answer.

  By the time Sharon walked into the office twenty minutes later, I had completed a handful of tasks she had marked as important on the to-do list. Her drawn-on brows were pulled together in a permanent scowl, and her pursed lips emphasized the wrinkles around her mouth. Her piercing gaze told me she was out for more blood than usual today. I braced myself
for a rough day ahead of me.

  By the time four o’clock rolled around, I was nauseous from the pounding in my head and from lack of food. I stood in front of Sharon, who sat in her rolling chair behind her desk. She stood and leaned forward, bracing her hands on her desk.

  “Why are you so incompetent?” she demanded. “I told you to call Sheryl Stone and tell her that I need to reschedule my listing appointment. Why did Sheryl just call me asking where I was? Huh? Why don’t you listen?!”

  “Sharon, you told me to call her back last week when you realized you did have time. Here is the email you sent telling me this,” I said and handed it to her.

  She didn’t even bother looking at it. Instead she took it from my hands, ripped it up and threw it on the floor.

  “Pick it up and throw it away,” she commanded me, her pupils narrowing. “Can you at least do something as simple as that?”

  Sharon’s cruelness was relentless. Every day it was the same thing. Constant haranguing, unreasonable demands, heavy workloads… Inside me, something snapped. What was I doing here? When I had been accepted for this job, I had been excited to start. As an employee under Sharon’s prestigious realty firm, I knew the position would open doors for me. I could make connections with her high-end clients, and once I finished school, I had planned to use those connections to find a better job.

  But just because I was desperate to jump back into the real world after a year of self-isolation, that didn’t mean I had to suffer this horrible woman’s abuse. Without another word, I turned and left Sharon’s office. She shouted something about coming back, but her voice was muffled by a ringing in my ears. My body trembled, and I could feel the rush of my power surging just beneath my skin. I clenched my teeth in pain as my bracelets kept my power from leaking out. The pain was intense, but my rage was greater – at least for now.

  I collected my few belongings from my desk and then shut down the computer. I could hear Sharon’s chair roll against the plastic mat she had under her desk. She would be coming down that short hallway any second to berate me. As if on cue, I heard her footsteps storming towards me. I walked over to the elevator and pressed the down arrow.