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The Other Side of Tomorrow - On Hiatus

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There's a myth about life's best teachers; an empty pocket, heartbreak, and failure. All three are marked and have Evita beat, and as if all that wasn't enough, she's tossed into a new world that brings its own headaches with no promises of helping her already damned existence. Henderson was ready to usher the Lower Expanse into a new age, one where the forgotten Elites would reign supreme once again. Things were off to a good start until he pulled her out of Albion's belly. Now his reign is scorned with a war he neither foresaw nor planned for. Will he give in to her spell and charge into the unknown by her side, or will he let the Colony take her?

Fantasy / Romance
Lσɾα †ïå
5.0 2 reviews
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The One Before The First

That didn’t take long, now, did it?

Because once again she was sitting at the same McDonald’s, not quite far from Zar’s flat, waiting for him to return from only God knows where, so she’d have a place to lay her head for the night.

Evita looked around the McDonald’s, read the Wi-Fi warning for the millionth time, then she turned back to her now cold McCafé.

She had only herself to blame for all of this, and it pained her deeply. She’d vowed she’d never be back here, begging for a place to stay the night, with Zar no less, yet here she was.

All her efforts had been squandered by that manipulating Traci Dante. With a deep breath, she calmed herself, drumming her fingers against her McCafe. She was still stuck in this cursed city, that gorged up dreams and spat you out to die a slow, riveting death. Of all the emotions she’d expected to overwhelm her, numb was nowhere on the list.

Before the pain of her misery could eat her whole, Evita had willed her subconscious away, and just as she’d feared, she couldn’t reach it any more. All that was left was the stench of failure and an emptiness nothing could fill; not the booze, not the meaningless sex, and apparently not her new obsession for writing.

Her eyes raised from the little brown journal that Zeus had given her last summer, to the man in front of her; her dismissive glare came ready too.

“Need company?” the scruffy stranger asked.

Oh, the joy it would bring her to bash his skull in, to give the rage stewing in her core an outlet, but she was sure that was not the kind of company he meant. She was more insulted than anything else. If he’d had a bath in a week, she’d be surprised. His eyes darted about the café erratically, and the uneasiness in them was unsettling.

“Definitely not yours,” she said.

He looked himself over. In a time when she had not lost the ability to feel, Evita was certain she’d feel sorry for him. He turned back to find her eyes fixated on him.

“Burger off, pal.” Evita turned back to the story she was attempting to write. Failed writer looked about ready to join the long list of failures she had going.

The stranger set his medium iced coffee down on the table, right next to her beverage, and sank into the adjacent seat. She eyed him and turned back to her journal. He did that to prove a point. It was a public space and a free country.

“Must feel mighty big of yourself.” Her eyes remained glued to her journal as she spoke.

He chuckled, and her eyes raised to his for a moment, then dropped back to her journal. He was human, but he had the mark of an envoy burned into the left side of his neck.

“You misunderstand, miss,” he said. She turned her gaze on him. “I asked if you needed company, I never offered mine.”

“Yet here you are.” She tied her journal shut and relaxed. Her honing ability took flight and soared about the McDonald’s, scanning until it settled on the familiar scent of rich tobacco.

“Mr Dante will like a word,” the stranger said. He rose as if to indicate that she followed him.

“He knows where to find me.”

He started to argue, but stopped when she slanted a vicious glare at him. With a nod, he left her and went to Dante and his little entourage to the far left of her. She watched them through the side of her eyes, trying to mind the story forming in her head. The envoy start back for her, and Evita half-smiled. He reached her and lowered to the seat he just vacated.

“Mr Dante needs a moment, Jade,” he said, firmly this time. “I’ll have to insist that you come with me.”

She looked around the café again and sighed. There were too many humans, she would have to use her words this time, even though that line of action rarely helped anything.

“Aaron, I will only say this once. Tell Traci I will not move an inch. If he needs something, let him come get it. Now be gone before I give in to the desire to bash your head in.”

He sat there for a moment, as if considering whether she would truly do as she’d threatened, then he rose and went back to his boss.

Evita packed up her table, listening in on the exchange between Traci and Aaron. Were she human, she would worry herself about how they tracked her here, but she wasn’t. They had their way—the gifted.

As new as she was to their world, she knew enough. They were a privileged lineage blessed with gifts and, as expected, men like Traci Dante sought to exploit it. Before her, a gifted could only ever have one ability. While the knights were trained to harness the ancient powers of their clans, they could only draw on one to fuel the other.

She was the abnormality, and it made her highly sought after by the high tier clans.

The Conquered Colony only knew of three of her abilities, and she couldn’t comprehend their reaction if they discovered she had more— which only seemed to multiply the more she used them.

“Jade.” His familiar voice came from above her. The Lord of the Lynx Conglomerate, stood almost six feet tall with short auburn hair that framed a well-formed face, was now standing in front of her bent slightly against a walking stick merely for show. Those familiar, unreadable grey eyes with a golden glint held hers. She eyed him and adjusted in her seat. “We need to talk.”


“Don’t give me that, Jade,” he warned. “You have a duty to your kind.”

“And what is my kind, Traci?” she asked.

He sighed, shifted his weight off the cane and eyed the seat in front of her before lowering into it. Dante set the black glistering stick which looked ominously expensive on the table and turned those bleak eyes back on her.

“You have no idea the honour your gifts bestow on you, Jade, and it makes me wonder if you’re deserving of them,” he confessed. No response came, so he continued. “To be offered a seat at the table with the elites of the Colony is the grandest of achievements. You simply cannot turn it down. You have a kind to serve.”

Evita watched him in silence. She had no words for him. If this was the reason he’d tracked her down again; to force her into the innings of their selfish agendas, and not even consider the risk of confronting her in a room full of humans, he was more damaged than she’d thought.

“First, you lured me into your world with promises of a better existence, away from human contempt and my woes. I fell for it. Then you used me, exploited my gifts and as though that wasn’t enough you think naming me an elite will make me easier to use?”

“You’re serving the greater good, Jade. Goodness! This is how the world works, and the idea that you can’t comprehend that is fucked up!”

Heads turned towards them at his response, and Evita laughed at the absurdity of his outburst. Ooh, those grey eyes darkened with sinister intent. One thing the almighty Traci Dante could not bear was mockery. She raked her fingers through her pitch-black long locks with the patch of silver and rose with a sigh.

“I suppose I cannot change the way the world works, even with all my righteous indignation.” She smiled. “But I do get a say in whom I let use me and let me make this very clear, Mr Dante, it sure as hell isn’t going to be you.”

She strapped her black backpack on, adjusted her blue jean jacket and stormed out of the McDonald’s. Zar had better be home when she reached his place.

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