Host Chronicles:
Volume 1
Devil’s Offspring
By D.L Cox
Published by: Prestige Communication Group, LLC
Copyright © 2012 D.L Cox
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
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter One
Debts are meant to be paid. That’s what 48-year-old Bob Taylor thought as he stood on the porch of his Brooklyn brownstone in the freezing cold. It was approaching midnight, and his guest would be arriving any moment. Bob’s wife Sarah reluctantly crept out onto the porch and instinctively crossed her arms over her chest and rubbed herself to keep warm.
“She’s not here yet?” Sarah asked.
Bob checked his watch. “Any minute.”
Sarah frowned and shook her head. “I don’t understand why she’s coming this time of…”
“She’s coming and that’s that,” Bob said sternly.
Bob’s tone caught Sarah by surprise, just like the impromptu visit from the mysterious guest. Sarah loved Bob dearly, and their twenty years of marriage had taught her that he cherished loyalty like the air he breathed. Still, she couldn’t understand how a simple phone call in the middle of the night, from some associate Bob hadn’t seen since he was a teenager, could cause him to become so distant so quickly. Her Bob was a kind and loving man who would die trying to make her happy. She’d never seen this cold and curt side of him before.
She took a deep breath. “How long is she staying?” she asked curtly.
Bob looked into her eyes and coldly stated, “As long as she likes.”
Sarah exhaled, “well, I don’t like the idea of a strange girl staying in our home. I know you say her father is an old friend but this is—”
“No but,” Bob snapped. “Without him, I would be nothing. Without him you wouldn’t get to sit on your ass all day and shop like money grows on trees.”
Sarah was taken aback. She couldn’t believe her ears. “I didn’t mean—”
“If you have a problem with her staying here, you can leave,” he flatly suggested.
Sarah searched his face and found something troubling— he was dead serious. She stumbled over her words as she said, “I’m sorry. I’ll get the guest room ready.”
Bob nodded. “Good. You do that.”
Without another word, Sarah went back into the house. A smoke gray Maybach pulled up less than a minute later. Bob quickly approached the car and stood at the curb while a tall, muscular man with an ugly scar above his right eye got out the driver’s seat. Bob’s heart pounded with anticipation as the driver walked around the car and opened the back passenger door. Bob instinctively lowered his head like a servant as an exotic–looking young lady stepped out the car wearing an elegant evening gown and six-inch heeled shoes. She carried herself with the air of royalty, and rightfully so. The mere sight of her was enough to make any man speechless. She looked about twenty-years-old with even silky skin, cat-like gray eyes, model-like high but full cheekbones, long black hair tied in a bun, and a perfectly proportioned five-foot five-inch coke-bottle shaped figure. There was something about her beauty that transcended human senses. Bob had yet to lay eyes on her, but experienced her beauty as if he had gazed upon her for an eternity. He kept his head lowered as he said, “It is a pleasure to have you…”
“Saleena,” she said, toying with a tear-drop shaped crystal that hung from a gold chain around her neck.
There was something seductively musical about her voice, which caused the hair on the back of Bob’s neck to stand.
She turned to her driver and told him, “I’ll be fine from here, Eshu.”
Eshu shook his head and frowned. “Your father said I’m supposed to stay with you.” Saleena giggled. “Well, my father’s not here, is he?”
“But—” Eshu started.
“Go home,” she ordered, toying with the crystal. “I’ll call you when or if I need you.”
Eshu nodded, hopped in the car, and pulled off, leaving Bob standing in front of Saleenawith his head down.
Saleena smiled at Bob. “Relax. I won’t bite. Look at me.”
Bob slowly raised his head and his eyes confirmed what his heart and soul already knew—she was the essence of beauty. “How long will you be staying?” he asked.
“With you?” Saleena chuckled. “Only for the night.”
Bob sensed something sinister in her tone, but simply nodded and led her into the brownstone.
Sarah sat waiting in the living room and stood as they walked in.
Bob motioned to Sarah and told Saleena, “This is my wife, Sarah.”
“Hello,” Saleena greeted Sarah with a smirk.
Sarah smiled, captivated by Saleena’s beauty. “Hello...”
“Saleena,” Saleena nodded.
“Saleena,” Sarah mouthed, bewildered by Saleena.
There was a moment of awkward silence until Bob said, “Well, we should show Saleena to her room.”
Sarah noticed Saleena didn’t have any luggage and asked,” Where are your things?”
Saleena blushed, embarrassed. “It’s my first visit here. I didn’t know what to bring. I’m sure I’ll have everything I need by this time tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Bob cut in. “Let’s show Saleena to her room.”
“Yeah,” Sarah nodded at Saleena. “You must be tired from your trip. How far have you traveled? I mean, where are you from?”
Bob frowned. “Sarah?”
Saleena smirked. “Someplace far away from here, but we can talk about that later. Right now, I just want to go to bed.”
“Of course,” Bob said, hoping Sarah’s questions didn’t make Saleena feel uncomfortable. Bob and Sarah led Saleena upstairs to her room, made sure she was settled in, and then headed to their bedroom. Sarah was tempted to press Bob about his relationship to Saleena’s father, but decided against it. She and Bob went to bed without sharing a word about Saleena, but the girl was on both of their minds.
Bob planned to have Sarah take Saleena shopping the next day. He understood that Saleena was alone in a strange environment far away from her home. He had promised her father he would make her as comfortable as possible and keep her out of trouble. He was sure he wouldn’t have a problem making her feel comfortable; he was worried about keeping her out of trouble. He didn’t know where to begin. He certainly couldn’t stop her from doing anything she wanted to do. She was her father’s daughter, and theirs was a gene pool that wielded power, control, and serious influence. How could he keep his promise to her father and stay on her good side until she returned home? Her father had expected her to stay with Bob for the duration of her visit, and here she was telling him she would only be staying the night. She had just arrived, and had already put him in an uncomfortable position. All this lay on his mind as he went bed.
***
Across town in a Manhatta
n penthouse apartment, twenty-one-year-old Nathaniel Brenner was jolted from his sleep. His body glistened with sweat, which beaded down his broad shoulders and rolled down his muscular chest and ripped six-pack abs as he sat up in bed. He eyed the clock on the night stand and sighed in frustration. It was 2am, and he’d been abruptly awakened from his sleep in the middle of the night for the third night in a row. He knew it wasn’t a coincidence. It either had something to do with his past, or was some kind of signal concerning his future. He exhaled and silently acknowledged that there really was no either/or—everything about his life was grounded in his past, and the very nature of his past was a complicated code that mapped out and determined his future. He lay back down and chuckled at the thought that he was one of very few men his age fortunate enough to live under the certainty of a looming destiny. Yes, it was a sense of destiny that fueled his infatuation with the past, inspired him to overlook the beauty and utility of the present, and drove him to obsess over the not-yet but sure-to-come promise of the future. He grabbed a tear-drop shaped crystal from under his pillow and drifted off into the memory of the fateful night that had anointed his life with the most precious of evaluations: purpose.
Fifteen years earlier, Nat had appeared to be like many other six-year-old boys being raised in the Bronx by an underemployed single mother. But all that changed one night when an unanticipated explosion of thunder and lightning shattered the midnight silence and snatched a young Nat from his sleep. The worn box spring had creaked as the boy sat up on the bed. He glanced at his closed bedroom door and then noticed that rain was pouring in through the open window. He tip-toed across the cold tile floor and shut the window before pressing his nose against the glass and admiring the thick sheets of rain that covered the Bronx landscape. His sixth-floor window gave him a great view of what many called the ghetto. His mind drifted off to the sound of the July shower beating against the window. It was as if the rain spoke to him. A streak of lightening snapped him back to reality. He realized he was still tired and crept back to bed. Young Nat had barely closed his eyes when he heard two loud cracks followed by a loud thud. Without thinking, he jumped out of bed and bolted out the bedroom.
“Ma!” he screamed as he ran through the living room and into the kitchen. He ran so fast that he nearly tripped over something. He knew what it was without looking down. His heart skipped a beat and a wave of sadness swept over him. He took a deep breath to gather his courage and then cut his eyes down at his mother’s lifeless body. He tilted his head to the side like a puppy and knelt to lift up her head.
“Come on Ma, wake up,” he whispered softly.
Nat removed a lock of hair from her face and kissed her on the cheek. He wasn’t bothered by the gaping slash that ran across her neck, or the pool of blood that lay beneath her. He only focused on her eyes. Her eyes were the window to all that she was, and they conveyed to him the same thing in death they had conveyed to him in life: everything would be all right.
“I know,” he responded, removing the tear-shaped crystal from a gold chain around her neck.
Had a neighbor not heard the commotion and called the cops. Nat would’ve spent the rest of his life sitting on the floor next to his mother’s corpse. Instead, he was ushered to a police car while his mother’s body was outlined with chalk. The cops attempted to question him, but he wouldn’t respond. He silently sat in the back seat of a cop car. He occasionally scanned the crowd of officers and crime scene investigators in front of his building, but he mostly stared off into space. Nat was in another world when a tall, petite woman with long thick dreadlocks approached the car and tapped on the window.
“Nathaniel?” the woman asked.
Nat looked into her dark brown eyes and concluded she could be trusted, and that she was there to help him. He had a way of reading people’s intentions like that. “Yes,” he answered.
The woman opened the car door and stuck her head inside. “My name is Melissa Courtly. I need you to come with me, okay?”
“Where are you going to take me?” he asked, showing no signs of sadness.
Melissa bit her bottom lip and glanced at her watch. “I work for Child Welfare. I’m going to make sure you get somewhere safe. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Nat said, looking into her eyes.
“Good, my car is this way.” She led Nat to her car and then stopped. She looked around to make sure she was out of earshot of any passersby and knelt in front of him. “Do you understand what happened tonight?”
Nat rubbed her cheek and kissed her forehead. “My mommy died. But she told me I always made her feel safe, and that she would have to go away one day. And she told me that I shouldn’t cry or be sad because her death would make me stronger,” he stated, summarizing the speech his mother had given him a million times. Then he pulled the crystal from his pocket and held it in front of Melissa’s face. “And she told me that someone would be sent to take me somewhere safe.”
Melissa smiled as a flicker of light glowed inside the crystal. “You’re special,” she told him.
“I know,” he said and hugged her. “Thank you for coming to get me.”
“We have to get going,” she whispered.
***
A half hour later Melissa pulled Nat into her one bedroom Manhattan apartment and led him through a maze of cardboard boxes until they were in the bedroom. She motioned to a chair on the wall to the left and said, “Sit there.”
Nat squeezed his way around the queen size bed and hopped onto the chair. “Why you got all these boxes?” he asked, pointing at the boxes.
“If you must know, I just moved in,” she replied while grabbing the phone.
He watched closely as she dialed a number.
“It’s me,” she said when the other line picked up. “I have him.”
“What does he know?” a woman’s voice asked Melissa.
Melissa cut her eyes at Nat before answering. “A lot, but nothing at all.”
“Set it up,” the woman said.
“I’m on it,” Melissa replied and then hung up.
Melissa sat beside Nat and studied him for a moment. Then she told him, “I’m going to send you to some people who are going to take real good care of you.”
Nat nodded, “Okay.”
Melissa explained, “But first I have to leave you some place. I need you to trust me and do as I say. Everything will work out fine.”
Nat smiled. “I know. You’re going to take me somewhere safe.”
***
Six-year-old Nat had spent every hour of the next two days in a group home waiting to be picked up. As the other boys passed the July afternoon playing ping-pong and watching TV in the dayroom, Nat sat off in a corner by himself.
“Melissa’s going to get me somewhere safe,” he said to himself.
“Nathaniel Brenner!” he heard a man yell.
Nat turned and saw that it was a counselor standing in the doorway with an older lady. The woman’s wrinkle-free face, perfectly arched eyebrows, and bright white smile undermined the age signified by a long shiny gray ponytail that glided around her neck and cascaded over her right shoulder. Nat quickly scanned her dark-green high-heels and the two-piece dark-green skirt set that covered her tall, curvy frame; and then rested his eyes on her face.
“Aunt Angela!” he shouted and skipped to embrace her, remembering the routine Melissa had taught him.
“Hey baby!” Angela James squealed and planted wet kisses all over his face. Then she held him back and looked him up and down. “Are you all right?”
Nat cut his eyes at the counselor and then answered, “Yes, ma’am.”
Angela turned to the counselor. “I’ve spent all morning signing papers with a case worker named Melissa Courtly. What do I have to do to get my nephew out of this place?”
The counselor watched Nat wrap his arms around Angela’s waist, and said, “Ms. Courtly alrea
dy faxed everything over; you’re free to take him now.”
Angela leaned and kissed Nat on the forehead. “Did you hear that Nathaniel? The man had to give me permission to take you home, as if they were keeping you here.” She locked onto Nat’s eyes. “But always know that nobody can keep you anywhere, and you always have the power to free yourself, understand?”
Nat nodded, and Angela took him by the hand and led him out the building. Bright rays of mid-day sunlight assaulted Nat’s eyes when he stepped outside. He squinted at Angela as she slowly slipped on a pair of designer sunglasses, and told her, “Thank you.”
Angela bit her bottom lip and shook her head. “No, thank you. Come on, the car’s right there.” She pointed to a black Lincoln MKS with a tall, sharply dressed man leaning against it.
“I see everything worked out,” the man said, opening the back car door as Nat and Angela approached.
Angela smiled, “Smoother than a baby’s bottom.” She motioned to Nat. “Nathaniel, this is Todd. Todd, this is Nathaniel.”
Joy and admiration filled Todd’s eyes as he shook Nat’s hand. “It is a pleasure and an honor. The world will owe you a dept it can never repay.”
Nat sensed a wave of sincerity flowing from Todd. “I trust you,” he told Todd before climbing in the car.
They pulled off and Nat asked Angela “Where are we going?”
“Maryland, home,” she told him.
Nat spent the four-hour trip from New York to Maryland in silence.
“We’re here,” Todd announced as the Lincoln pulled up to a gated estate in Prince George’s County.
“Welcome to the James Estate,” Angela said and rolled down the windows.
Nat turned from left to right as the car passed through the gate. On both sides of the cobble-stone driveway, there was perfectly manicured lawn stretching for as far as his young eyes could see.
Angela crossed her legs and placed her hand on Nat’s shoulder. “This is home,” she said after they made the two-mile drive from the gate to the huge mansion. It was a replica of the White House. They got out the car and Nat followed Todd and Angela onto the front porch and then stopped.
“What’s wrong?” Angela asked.