Queen Awakens (Dark Secrets Book 1), page 1
Copyright © 2019 by Trish Beninato
All rights Reserved
This book is licensed for your personal use only. No part of this book may be reproduced in any written, electronic, recorded, or photographed work without written permission of the publisher or author. The exception would be in the case of brief quotations embodied in the critical articles or reviews where permission is granted by the author.
Edited by Schwartz Fiction Edits
Cover designed by Burning Phoenix Covers
Formatted by Red Umbrella Graphic Designs
For my daughters, Ariana and Autumn
May you always know happiness
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Acknowledgments
Also by Trish Beninato
About the Author
My oldest memory was of a white tiger. Or my oldest nightmare, I was never sure.
I was there, like I had been so many times before. The fragrance of the magnolia flower tickling my nose as the vibrant green of the stiff leaves crunched between my tiny fingers. Magnolia replaced the aroma I was as familiar with as my own. It was warm and welcoming, like honey and sunshine. It was unmistakably my mother’s scent.
One minute my mother was there, consoling me and holding me to her breast as her light, almost white, strands of soft hair tickled my cheeks, telling me, “Sweetheart, stay here. Don’t move; don’t make a sound. I love you,” and then she pulled back from me, placing me into a burrow in the bushes. Her gaze, as bright as the sky on a cloudless day, met my own.
I didn’t understand. Why did she look so concerned? Before I could ask, she turned and disappeared.
I sat there as she had asked, quiet and alone. Until the white tiger came to take me home as if I were her cub, nudging me along with its soft nose and rubbing its face on my skin, like an affectionate house cat.
Its tongue licked my face and encouraged me to lie on its back, against the soft, white and black fur. Soft like my mother’s hair, and the same smell of honey and sunshine. The beautiful tiger took me home, and then it left me there on the porch, staring at me for a long time, as if it didn’t want to take its cloudless blue eyes off of me, even for a second.
But then it did. It turned and slinked away as I waved my plump little hand its way. I turned away just as it looked over its shoulder one last time before taking off in a full run.
I never saw the white tiger, or my mother, ever again.
I woke up quickly, practically jumping from my bed. I gulped down deep breaths, my adrenaline racing as my heart tried to pound right out of my chest. It beat harder and harder as I gasped for more air. The fear still gripped me. Its dark fingers wrapped around me in a tight, gripping squeeze, as if it were a python ready to choke the life out of me.
"Breathe, Charlie," I whispered in the dark.
My roommate’s fan thrummed on the opposite wall, drowning out my words. There was a cold sweat on my skin, making me feel sticky with the humid night air. I forced myself to take longer, slower breaths as I calmed myself. It had been so real. It was as if I was living it repeatedly. The pain, the shame, the fear, and the lack of control over what was happening.
I squinted through the dark, my eyes easily adjusting, and, for a slight moment, it was as if my vision was clearer in the darkness. It felt as if the dark was a veil, one which I enjoyed using to hide. The thought struck me as odd. But then nothing in my life lately had seemed normal. They took normal from me… no, they had robbed it.
I stole a glance once again over toward Alyssa, my roommate and best friend. She still slept. Lucky her, I thought bitterly. Her blond hair was braided to accommodate an easy wake up, and her sleeping mask was positioned perfectly over her large, round eyes.
Alyssa would sleep in until she had just enough time to slap a little makeup on and run out the door. And, in that moment, I found myself jealous of her. She was carefree, unscarred, and still innocent. I couldn't say the same about me.
I then glanced at the clock, the red light flashing from my desk behind me, blinding me for just a moment. Three AM, it read in big, bright numbers. I bit back a groan. I had class in the morning and knew I would spend the rest of the night wanting desperately to sleep but failing no matter how much I tried as I tossed and turned.
So, I pulled back the sheet I had tangled myself into and shifted quietly toward the back of the dorm room. No one would be up and, therefore, no one would mind if I took a shower. I hoped the water would chase away the big bad that had been in my nightmare, but I knew better. Someone had burned it into my soul. I would never escape it. It was now my sad reality.
I grabbed my towel as I stepped into the ugly gray tiled bathroom. We shared it with our dorm mates on the other side. The same bleak gray tile covered the shower, providing little help against slipping as it became soapy. The drain sometimes clogged, and it would quickly overflow with water that didn't shoot out past the shower curtain from the sheer force of the spray.
We tried everything to keep the shower safe, unclogged, and the floor beyond it dry. It never worked. They called these the poor dorm rooms for a reason. But honestly, I didn't care.
As I stood under the hard spray of the steaming hot shower, so hot it burned my skin, I welcomed it. The pain made me feel. It made me feel something other than fear. I closed my eyes, letting the hard spray, which resembled a fire hose rather than a shower, burn and scorch my skin with its force and heat until I couldn't handle it anymore. Glancing down, I could see the angry red flesh of the skin on my arms.
Sighing, I turned off the shower, not even bothering with soap. I'd take another shower tonight, and that one would probably be just as rough. It was as if I wanted to burn the vile thing from me, which now forced me up in the early morning, panting and practically in tears as fear gripped my soul.
I waited, listening carefully to hear if I had disturbed anyone from either side of our connected dorm rooms. It was silent. The one, and probably only, good thing about these dorms was that we only had to share the bathroom with a few people, as opposed to an entire floor of coed people. So, late night or, rather, early morning showers weren't a big deal.
It was one of the biggest reasons why I didn't mind the dorm as much as I had before. There was more privacy and less risk.
Then the thought of what could happen sent a chill up my spine. Anything could happen. Anything did happen. We, as in Alyssa and me, had intended to move into the bigger dorms, deciding to share with our other friends, either next semester or the following year, but I had dragged my feet. I wasn't ready. I wasn't sure if I ever would be.
I wrapped the soft burgundy towel around myself and left the steamy bathroom as quietly as possible. My eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness. Too quickly, the thought crossed my mind.
My stomach, my traitorous stomach, grumbled loudly. I was hungry, again. For the last few weeks, toward the end of the summer, I had rarely left to go many places. Alyssa had tried to pull me out, but I had grumbled and groaned and buried myself into the memory foam mattress topper, which I'd purchased our first year here.
It was then that my hunger had increased. It had terrified me that maybe… maybe I was pregnant. Something else that would force me against my will. But after a tearful confession to Alyssa, with my head in her lap and enough tears to fill a lake, I had confessed what had happened.
She had listened and smoothed my hair back from my face, letting the tears fall into her lap without a second thought. That was what best friends were for, she had said soothingly. Her bright blue eyes sad, careful to conceal her anger.
"He'll get what he deserves," she had promised as I wept hot, salty tears.
But he didn’t; instead, we never saw him again. I didn’t know if I should feel relief, anger, or sadness. There were days I was too numb inside to feel anything, and other days where the feelings were too great to even understand. One minute, I felt like I was gasping for air from the overwhelming emotional overload, but then others I felt hollow numbness; a place too great even to call it apathy.
Another loud grumble of my stomach ripped me from the memory. The dining hall wasn't open yet, and I hadn't been there in a while, preferring to either not eat or live off the scraps Alyssa brought me, or the easily microwaveable meals we had shoved into our closets and mini fridge. Believe me, ramen was becoming my least favorite meal.
"I need to get out and take a walk," I whispered to no one in the dark as I stood in front of the mirror, shadowed in the darkness. But I looked at myself in its reflection as c lear as day.
A brief, gripping feeling of terror rose inside the pit of my belly as thoughts intruded upon me. Unwelcome thoughts. Thoughts that were fueled in panic as anxiety seized me. It washed over me in an unwelcome wave. One that didn't just crest and break once, but that stormed as if fueled by a hurricane.
I snatched clothes from my closet; a plain white bra and matching underwear, a t-shirt that was grungy looking, with Ramones scrawled across the front, and jean shorts. I left my hair wet and unbrushed as I let the anxiety increase inside of me, practically propelling me to the door. With a quick glance down at Alyssa as I passed, I quickly slipped out the door and into the cool, yet humid night.
I deeply inhaled the clear night air as different fragrances assaulted me. The bush below our front steps smelled like strong ammonia, which burned my nostrils, but past that scent, the flowers growing along the sidewalks throughout campus were fragrant and floral. It mixed in with the pine trees and the surrounding thickly wooded forest. It was something I loved about campus. It secluded this tiny little nook from the rest of the world, a place of peaceful sanctuary. Or, at least, it had been.
I looked around, noting that no one was outside; as I had suspected, the area was quiet and deserted. It was then that I looked down, realizing I had forgotten my shoes. With a turn of my head to look at the window to our door, I shrugged and walked barefoot across the hard, concrete balcony, which led to the stairs. If our dorm was ever to be converted commercially as rooms for rent, they would refer to them as motels. I wasn’t entirely sure that at some point in the past they hadn't already been as such.
Girls on top and boys on bottom. That was the way they had done it. There were only two buildings like ours, sitting side by side. The poor dorms. The motels.
I lumbered down the stairs, fast, not feeling the hard impact my feet made on the concrete. Odd. I was usually tender footed. So much so that once, as a child, my dad had taken me to a beach on the Florida coast, which was made of nothing but broken shells. I had cringed and whimpered every step I had taken across the beach, electing to stay mostly in the water. But water had never been my thing, and I had refused to reenter the warm waves after I stepped on a furious crab.
My dad, to this day, still chuckled when he told the story.
I was racing through the soft grass as it cushioned the soles of my feet. I slowed to a walk, breathing in the crisp air and relishing the soft breeze sweeping across my heated skin. The moon above me, big and bright, illuminated so much; it was almost as bright as day. I stayed off the main paths of campus, moving toward the wooded area. I wasn't planning on journeying into the overgrown tree line, where branches, weeds, and brambles littered the spaces between the trees, covering almost every available surface with its overgrowth.
I knew where I needed to go. I had seen it earlier, before I had walled myself inside my dorm. I had passed through by mistake, exploring other areas of campus back before the thought of being alone outside made my pulse pound in my ears like a battle drum. For some reason, that spot beckoned me as if it offered something I had been looking for. Some form of peace in the chaos of my life. A place no one ever went. A place no one even really knew about.
Why would they? They were too busy studying, going to class and parties, and trying desperately to find ways to pay for college in a world where you had to go into debt just to get what you needed to achieve what you wanted. Welcome to college, and here was the stress that came with it.
But knowing that had at least prepared me to deal with that stress. What had happened… that was not something I had expected.
I found it, sitting there nestled between the trees; a bench. I ambled over to it; my feet dirty as I plopped down onto the weathered wood. Lying back into the wood, I closed my eyes and exhaled. It was worth it for the few silly moments of peace. Even if they were fleeting. It was worth it.
But as with all good things, they must end. Just like my innocence. Just like the one thing, that one treasured thing that I had saved for that one special person. Stolen from me. Taken without permission.
I was rushed back to the present as my eyes flew open and my stomach grumbled even louder. That same feeling, that same desire for danger, gripped me as it had once done in my youth. I wanted something. Something I didn't understand. A primal urge that pushed all of the other stuff away. It called to me. It whispered it could make me better. It would give me power.
And then just like that, it was gone.
And so I made my way back, the small moment of peace over as my trauma reared its ugly little head once more.
I had another dream once I finally made my way back and slept for a few hours, tossing and turning before falling into a fitful sleep right as the sun broke through the distant horizon. This dream was another memory of a past event. It was a feeling, one that made my walk more familiar. There was the same hunger, the same need, and the same whisper of power.
The wind had ripped into my face. I needed this. Why? I still didn’t know, but it was there, taunting me until I had given in.
It had been easy to find and take the keys, walking the bike away from the house slowly so no one would hear. No one being my dad.
It had also been stupid of me not to grab a helmet, but for some strange reason, the bike had called to me, like it knew that I needed something more. It was dangerous, but, at the same time, it felt like a sweet release of something old and pent up inside of me.
My dad had taught me to ride it but had forbade me to do so without permission. This was the first time in my life I had ever gone against his wishes. It felt intoxicating.
The last few days, I had felt restless, like a cat on the prowl. I had closed my door at night, letting the fake, forced smile slip from my lips as I paced my room for reasons I still didn’t understand, wringing my hands nervously.
Then I had felt feverish, dangerous. I needed. I needed something. Anything. I had felt an intense need to run, to go fast, to escape into the night. My skin had felt hot, boiling. I had groaned loudly, then clamped my hand to my mouth, knowing my dad had the best hearing in the world. Once, he had heard me curse under my breath when I was younger, and he’d grounded me for a month. And that curse was more like me mouthing the words silently than saying them, but they were bad.
The thought had crossed my mind that maybe I was bad. Maybe, like in that book where the witches forced the new witch into either the evil side or the good side after a certain age, here I stood, turning into something evil.
This thought had made me guffaw in delirious giggles, and I quickly clamped my mouth shut, looking at the door. My dad would just assume I as on my laptop talking to Alyssa. Alyssa was probably updating her fashion and beauty blog; her favorite extracurricular activity.
That was the moment the thought had occurred to me… take the bike. It was stupid and reckless, but it was the thought of being reckless and dangerous that had appealed to that deep and dark need inside of me.
Something inside of me had been screaming to get out. It was clawing its way to the surface, and I could feel it. But, in that moment, racing through the hot muggy night, I felt relief. I felt free.
At least until I had hit the gravel road.
Once again, I woke up twisted in my sheets; only this time, I was drenched in sweat from the humid heat that persevered even through the shitty air conditioning unit attached to the bottom of the window now covered in moisture and fog.
I glanced over, seeing Alyssa had left. Her unmade bed topped in her haphazard sheets and pushed down blanket. She didn't need the blanket in the summer, not until later in the year. Georgia stayed hot and humid, and the mosquitos stayed big.
