Destined to Kill: A Destined Novel (Destined Novels Book 1) Read online

  Copyright © 2013 by Jourdyn Kelly

  Published by Jourdyn Kelly

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  ISBN Number - 978-1-4675-7513-3

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Art by: Jourdyn Kelly

  Interior Design by Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats

  Other books by Jourdyn Kelly

  Something About Eve

  Flawed Perfection - Coming Soon

  The Society

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Immortality

  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

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Hunters were born out of necessity, revered for their protection, and loyal beyond all else. They are bound by the rules of the Society. The rules are few, but they are strong. First, your fundamental duty is to protect innocents at all cost - even if it means your own death. Second, you must kill any Cursed Ones you come across. It does not matter if the Cursed One is your family. If someone you know is bitten, you must make sure they are dead by either beheading them or setting them on fire. Third, never, under any circumstances, kill an innocent. And, finally, never break any of the rules. What would you do if circumstances had you needing to break all of them?

  "Anala!"

  I clap my hand over my mouth and giggle quietly when I hear my father yelling for me. I know how much he hates when I take his frogs from his laboratory. But, they are too cute to let him keep doing experiments on them!

  "Anala! Bring me those frogs!"

  I quickly let them go and shoo them away with my hand before tucking the jar I carried them in back into my pack. I am not afraid of getting in trouble. Papa would always pretend to be upset with me, but I know he loves me too much to stay mad.

  "It is your own fault, you know." I hear mum telling him as I sneak back into the house undetected. "You taught her to be headstrong."

  "Ha! You dare blame that on me, woman! She is your daughter for sure!" He retorts, playfully.

  "I say it is both of you," I laugh and skip by both of them to grab a biscuit from the plate mum held.

  "Anala, do not ruin your appetite."

  "I am starving, mum. Do not worry, I will eat more. Besides, your biscuits are the best." I smile sweetly at her and the stern look on her face wavered into a small smile.

  "Did you take my frogs, young lady?"

  "No sir," I lie, knowing he knew full well I was lying.

  "Anala, what have I told you about taking my frogs. I need them."

  "But, I did not take them," I insist. "They must have...hopped away."

  This got laughter from mum and even a little amusement from papa.

  "Headstrong." I hear him mutter as he shook his head and gave up. Aloud he said, "Eat your breakfast. We will train once you have finished."

  I am a Hunter. I enjoy everything about being a Hunter. I never complain or argue when it came to training. I love training with papa. It was a time for us to connect with one another, and it was fun. Learning how to wield a sword, fight hand to hand combat, ride horses, and, also be quick on my feet was something I looked forward to every day. Mum never complained about my training either. She, too, was a Hunter and knew what it took day in and day out to stay alive. There were times when she would join us. Those were my favorite times of all.

  Hunters are a necessity during these times. Our village is in danger. I am only ten years old, but I can hear what the elders are saying, even if I do not understand it all. My parents try to explain "The Cursed Ones" to me. How they're evil and kill people because they cannot help it. That part, I do not understand. How can someone not help hurting another human? But, my parents tell me that something happened to the Cursed Ones that made them that way. They are stronger and faster than regular people and have bigger teeth. I have yet to see one, but I have been training with my parents since I was five. I bet I could beat them.

  Papa tells me that my arrogance will one day get me killed. I know he says it to scare me (and sometimes it does), but I wish he knew how strong I really was. I can almost beat him when we spar! He says he is proud of me and that I have learned more in my young years than most Hunters do their whole lives, but that I have no idea what we are really up against.

  Of course, I focus on the positive - Mum says that is one of my best qualities - and only hear how proud papa is of me. It means a great deal coming from him. Henry and Eleanor Geil were the Hunter elders. Their abilities with swords and hand to hand were unparalleled. Considered the leaders of the Hunters, my parents were revered and other Hunters from all over the land sought my parents out for the honor to be trained by them.

  I thought of that as my sword clanged against father's. I know it is wrong to think of anything except what is happening at this moment, but I cannot help it. I am honored to be able to train with the best - even if they embarrass me sometimes.

  "Anala!"

  Father had my sword in his hand and his blade at my throat before I could even think to counter the move.

  "What have I told you! Always be present!"

  "I am sorry, papa! I was just..."

  "You were just about to get killed is what you were!" He grumbles.

  "Yes, sir. I will do better." I know better than to pout, so I hold in the tears that I want to let flow for disappointing him.

  "Henry, she is just a child. Perhaps you should be less harsh with her."

  "No, mum, he is right to push me. I want to be like you, and you, papa," I say, turning to him. "I promise, I will do better. I will not let anything distract me again."

  "Your father is not going to like this," Thomas whispers to me.

  Thomas Lagan had arrived in our village with his family three years ago. They were Hunters called here to help with the surge of Cursed Ones that were coming our way. He was cute enough with his sun-kissed hair, just a tad lighter than the wheat that grew here in our fields, and his beautiful golden eyes. He was built as a Hunter should be. Strong and tall, but also graced with such agility. We hit it off pretty quickly when he got here - despite my trouble understanding his Irish brogue. I attribute it to the fact that he was the only other Hunter around my age that had any measurable amount of skill. I refuse to believe it is because I think he is cute. The world could come to an end at any moment, I could not think of things like that! I promised father no distractions and I meant it (damn).

  "Well, it is a good thing I am eighteen now is it
not?" I say defiantly. I tie my hair back with a leather tie and can't help but think of how opposite Thomas and I were. Where his hair was light, mine was dark, almost black. My eyes were lighter and clearer than his. And, even though I, too, have the slim, athletic build of a Hunter, my body has the soft curves a woman should have.

  "Eighteen or not, your father is the leader of the Hunters. You could be kicked out for this," he reminds me.

  I whirl on him. "I am better than half the men he has out there!" I whisper angrily, poking him in the chest with each word. "Hell, I am probably better than anyone he has out there! He should let me go hunting!"

  Thomas grabs my hand and holds it.

  "I agree," he says softly. "But, you are his daughter. Do you not think it is difficult for him to put you on the front lines?"

  For a moment, I am confused and conflicted. Confused by the way Thomas stroked my hand gently with his thumb (and how that made me feel). Conflicted by guilt in thinking my father would worry about anything but my safety.

  "Still," I say, by way of debate. I draw my hand back and turn away. I have no argument to make other than 'still' (as lame as that is).

  "You know, one of the most important jobs for a Hunter is protection. Perhaps your father feels you can protect the village better than anyone else while they are away."

  "I know exactly what the most important job for a Hunter is!" I scathe. I know he's trying to help, but it only serves to make me more angry. "My parents are the leaders of the Hunters! But, I can do more good out there than standing around here waiting!" I turn and squint at him suspiciously. "Why aren't you out there?"

  Thomas blushes slightly. "It is not because I did not want to be. My parents asked me to look after my sister and protect her while they were gone." He shrugs a little before continuing. "I found out you were staying here, so I told them I would."

  Again, I'm speechless. That is not an easy feat, but Thomas seems to be able to do it without much effort. All I can do is just stare at him. When he begins to lean in, I put my hand on his chest - his very muscular chest - and push him back.

  "We are on patrol."

  "One day, Anala, you will let me kiss you."

  I possibly would have choked on those words had I not heard a sound in the bushes 100 yards ahead of us. Silently I motion for him to circle around until we could close in on whatever is out there.

  I draw my sword and noiselessly start toward the rustling. Catching Thomas's eye, I count down with my fingers 3, 2, 1. We pounce at the same time, both ready to slice into our first Cursed One when the little girl shrieks and falls to the ground covering her head.

  "Bloody hell, Emma! What in God's name are you doing out here!" Thomas sheaths his sword and yanks his sister up by the arm. "You know full well you are not supposed to be running around out here by yourself!"

  I replace my own sword and put a hand on my heart to make sure it was still beating. I could have killed this little girl all because I broke my promise to my father and was distracted. Again!

  "I apologize, Anala. You say you are sorry, too, Emma."

  "Sorry," Emma cries, her accent even heavier brogue than her brother's.

  "It is fine," I tell her. I wish she would not cry. I like the girl, I do not want to make her sad. "Perhaps you could take her back to your home, Thomas."

  "I cannot leave you alone out here, Anala," he objects. "You should come with us."

  "No. I want to stay here and keep watch. I will be fine. Just go." When he hesitates, I glare at him. "I know what I am doing, Thomas! I have been training since I was five and I am the best!"

  "I do not doubt your abilities, Anala, I just think we should stay in groups."

  "Well, Emma should not be out here," I reply haughtily. "Take her home. I am sure I can manage without you for ten minutes."

  "Fine." Thomas took Emma's hand and pulled her along. "I will be right back," he called as starts running with Emma trying desperately to keep up.

  "Whatever," I mutter to myself. I tire of people not taking me and my exceptional skills seriously. Yes, I am sure my parents worry about my safety, but they cannot keep me out of the way of danger forever. Eventually, I will have to go out there and fight with my fellow Hunters. Why can that not be now? I am old enough, skilled enough, hell I even want it enough. But, no, I am stuck here, 'patrolling' the outskirts of the village, looking for my own trouble. And, I am not even supposed to be doing this!

  Distracted again, I did not sense the Cursed One until he was right upon me. I feel his arms tighten around me and I struggle, but he is so strong.

  "A Hunter's daughter," he hisses in my ear. "You could be helpful to us."

  "What are you talking about?" I struggle more, but his hold only tightens. I need to think, not just react. Papa has taught me this many times. Think, Anala. Cursed Ones do not have our ability to rationalize the situation.

  The Cursed One only growls in response to my question. I had no idea they could even speak, and this one knew who I was. It was information the other Hunters could use. If I make it out of this alive. I feel the Cursed One release me with one arm to push my hair - that had fallen out of the tie with my struggling - back from my neck. He's going to bite me. I had learned with the Hunter's training that that was how they killed their prey. Or turned them. I pray for death if I cannot find a way out of this mess I got myself into.

  My mind races with what I could do, going through hundreds of hours of training in a mere fraction of a second. Then, as I feel his teeth begin to sink into my skin, I remember the small dagger I had hidden in my coat. I reach for it, surprising my attacker with the sudden movement. His teeth tore at my throat and I can feel the warmth of my blood as it ran down my neck. I spin, ducking as he swipes his long fingernails towards my face. When I come up, I bring the dagger up and plunge it into his heart. It won't kill him, but it will incapacitate him. His eyes, an eerie white with the only color seeming to be a thin red ring around the iris, widens with shock and fury. His teeth dripped with my blood as he tries to lunge at me before falling to the ground.

  I frantically look for my sword while trying to stop the bleeding from my neck. When I find it, I take it in my shaking hands and walk back to the Cursed One. He doesn't move, but I can still see the way he looked when he had faced me. I raise my sword and, refusing to close my eyes, brought it down with a powerful blow. His head rolled away from him briefly before turning to dust.

  I take the belt from around my tunic and wrap it around my neck in hopes it would help. I don't know if it's doing any good because my head is pounding and I'm feeling faint and nauseous.

  "I just need to sit for a moment," I whisper to myself. I should be dead now, right? Or, maybe changed into a Cursed One? Should I not feel different? All I feel is...sick. Tired and sick, but not evil. That has to be a good sign, right?

  I vomit violently, but it does not make me feel any better. Walk around. That is what I need to do. It has to be anxiety from my first kill that has me feeling this way. I smell something sweet and inviting, then, and it makes my mouth water. I do not know what it was, but it makes every nerve in my body feel alive. Thomas. I did know that smell! Thomas is coming back. He cannot see me like this! Making sure I have my sword with me, and there was no trace of the Cursed One around, I run.

  "Anala! Wait!"

  "I am sorry, Thomas, I have to go home!"

  I do not give him the chance to say anything else, I just need to get away from him.

  I slam the door behind me when I finally get home. For some reason it does not make me feel safe being there. The familiarity of my home, the smell of the fire in the hearth, even the smell of the stew mum has cooking, is all a little too overwhelming. Everything is intensified. The sun filtering into the windows is too bright. The fire, too hot. The smell of the stew, normally my favorite, makes my stomach hurt.

  Gus, our housecat, pads up to me, but instead of rubbing himself on my leg as usual, he sits in front of me and stares. We look at ea
ch other as if it is the first time we have seen each other. I tilt my head, he tilts his. Then this strange feeling washes over me. My eyes start to burn and my teeth ache. Gus hisses lightly and ambles away. I shake my head wishing this sick feeling would just go away.

  First things first. I need to clean this wound on my neck and assess the damage before my parents get home. I promptly go to the washbasin, untying my belt from my neck. I am almost afraid to look at my reflection in the mirror. Will there be a gaping hole, a bite taken out of my nape? Good news, if there is a wound, papa is a Chirurgeon, mum a Midwife. Bad news, if there is a wound and I am becoming a Cursed One, my parents are Hunters, bound by the rules of the Society. I think I will wait until I wash the wound before looking. I do not normally have a problem with blood, unless it is mine, of course.

  Filling my hand with chilled water from the basin, I gingerly bring it to my neck and begin cleaning. Expecting to feel holes or scraps, or something at least, I am surprised to feel nothing. All I feel is the smoothness of my skin against my fingers. I look in the mirror and use my belt to wipe away the blood staining my skin. Nothing. There is nothing there. No bite, no holes. Did I imagine being bitten? If so, where did the blood come from? That certainly was not my imagination. The water in the basin is colored from it. Could it not have been my blood? Perhaps blood from an earlier prey of the Cursed One?

  It does not matter. All that mattered was that I was not bitten! I still feel incredibly sick, but at least I am not Cursed.

  I change the soiled water from the basin and go to lay down in my bed. I try sleeping, but it eludes me. I could blame the stomach ache, but honestly, my mind is still reeling from the events of the day. Turn it off, Anala, I think. My wandering mind is what got me in the mess to begin with. With considerable effort, I finally empty my mind and begin to drift into sleep.

  "Anala! You were to take the stew off the fire..."