The Dark Side of Magic (The Dark Side, Book 2)

Second Chance

[Author's Note: Hello, everyone.

So, I changed my mind and concluded The Dark Side of Family with the chapter 'Til Death Do Us Part. That was probably a nasty shock for some of you; it was even a shock for me. It hadn't even occured to me to end it there until I was teasing Norah about it...then I decided it was actually the perfect spot to stop. I'm evil. Sorry.

I did, however, tell you I still had something up my sleeve! ...and this is it!

A sequel!

Hope you all enjoy it. Dedicated to mari - hopefully things will start making sense...not that it will last, becaue I've probably just succeeded in raising more questions. ;) ]

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The day was a cold one, though he could not feel it. The woman who had birthed him was dead, and for some reason, that disturbed him.

He flexed his hand, marveling at the strength hidden there. He had matured more quickly than any of them had expected, and with that maturity came knowledge. He could not explain how he knew the things he knew. He simply did.

It was interesting, indeed. He could be whatever he wanted to be; by all accounts his predecessors had chosen to age the same way that humanity ages. His instinct, however, had been to reach adulthood as quickly as possible…and so he had.

Even now, though, he could choose to be a seven year old and he would become one. Although he was only days old, he was six feet tall and in his mid-twenties. He could change his appearance at will, it was true, but he had somehow grown attached to this form.

His hair was dark like his mother’s, his eyes a vivid blue like his father’s; it was his tribute to them, although he assumed should he meet them on the street they would not know him. His father wouldn’t, at least. His mother would never lay eyes on him now.

He knew that he was expected to be a vicious killer capable of genocide…and to be fair, he was. He was also his own man, though, and did not believe in predestination.

He actively fought his nature, and thus far had succeeded…mostly.

He would not be told what he had to be; he would prove them wrong. He had it in him to be reasonably good, and he would.

He had a choice.

Didn’t he?

He did not have to be a monster.

…Or did he?

Sometimes he wondered.

Sometimes the draw was too much. He felt like a magnet, unable to resist the pull of the darkness that lingered in his very soul.

Sometimes he didn’t think he could beat it.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sathariel and Satanail had tried unsuccessfully to let them go ahead of the rest, knowing that they could make it to Kylie long before the rest of the group could. Isaac had vetoed their intentions, however, citing Patrick as a reason. He had said that Patrick was the only one who could sense Kylie, and he could not be trusted to go with them.

Patrick had guffawed, and Satanail had looked pointedly at Sathariel. When Sathariel had only glared in return, however, he had kept his mouth shut.

When they had tried to argue, Isaac had told them that they had no idea what they were walking into, therefore they were all going to remain together.

The fallen angels had admitted their defeat, and so they sat in the backseat of one of the cars on the way to Rochester, their arms sullenly folded over their chests.