Heroes of Falledge Book One: Black Hellebore, page 1
Heroes of Falledge
Book One
Black Hellebore
By
Nicole Zoltack
Heroes of Falledge
Book One: Black Hellebore
Book Two: White Hellebore
Book Three: Scarlet Magi
Other Books By Nicole Zoltack
Kingdom of Arnhem Book One: Woman of Honor
Kingdom of Arnhem Book Two: Knight of Glory
Kingdom of Arnhem Book Three: Champion of Valor
Desert Breeze Publishing, Inc.
27305 W. Live Oak Rd #424
Castaic, CA 91384
http://www.DesertBreezePublishing.com
Copyright © 2013 by Nicole Zoltack
ISBN 10: 1-61252-363-3
ISBN 13: 978-1-61252-363-7
Published in the United States of America
Publish Date: October 1, 2013
Editor-In-Chief: Gail R. Delaney
Content Editor: Ann Videan
Marketing Director: Jenifer Ranieri
Cover Artist: Jenifer Ranieri
Cover Model: Len Gunn
Photography Credit: Charles Paz, Fifth Element Studios
Cover Art Copyright by Desert Breeze Publishing, Inc © 2013
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information retrieval and storage system without permission of the publisher.
Ebooks are not transferrable, either in whole or in part. As the purchaser or otherwise lawful recipient of this ebook, you have the right to enjoy the novel on your own computer or other device. Further distribution, copying, sharing, gifting or uploading is illegal and violates United States Copyright laws.
Pirating of ebooks is illegal. Criminal Copyright Infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, may be investigated by the Federal Bureau of Investigation and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of up to $250,000.
Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination, or are used in a fictitious situation. Any resemblances to actual events, locations, organizations, incidents or persons – living or dead – are coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.
Dedication
To my sons who already are, and always will be, heroes in my eyes.
Chapter One
Nicholas Adams slowed his motorcycle and stopped at the red light. Not much had changed since the last time he had been here -- a year ago.
He hated the small town of Falledge. Hated the sights, hated the sounds. Held too many memories -- the bad far outweighing the good.
Yet every year, those same memories forced him to return.
He glowered at the red light, willing it to change. It mocked him, making him even more restless than he already was, and he tapped his fingers against the handlebar.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a feeble old woman entering the crossway. She took her time, and soon she was in front of him. He avoided eye contact with her, wishing she would hurry up and cross, that the light would change.
Instead, she stopped in front of him and shouted, "Please, sir, do you have some spare change?"
Nicholas dropped his jaw. Was she kidding him? Asking for money while crossing the street?
He stared at the crosswalk. Several pebbles and small rocks dotted it.
"Please, sir? I don't need much... Say, $5.41?"
The precise number brought him up short, and he lifted his visor and cut his eyes to her. Reaching into his pockets, he pulled out a crumpled up bill and some change. He handed her the five, a quarter, a dime, a nickel, and a penny -- all he had on him, other than a twenty in his wallet.
She thanked him and walked across the rest of the crossway with a lighter step, as if he had given her the world.
The car behind him honked. The light had finally changed color. He jumped forward, and it wasn't until he stopped at another red light that he realized he had given her the exact amount she had requested.
A coincidence.
Still, he found his thoughts returning to the old woman more than the memories nagging him. Just what did she plan to use the money for?
A mile or so down the road, Nicholas pulled into a gas station. He had enough to get to his destination, but nowhere beyond it. After yanking his worn wallet from his back pocket, he opened it up and rifled through it. The twenty he could have sworn would be inside wasn't. He had given the old woman his last cents.
Nicholas groaned. He removed his helmet and dropped it onto the ground. After a moment, he kicked it so gently it hardly moved.
A chuckle brought his attention away from his dilemma. He looked up to see a gorgeous blond. His heartbeat raced, and he found it difficult to swallow. The lovely before him was the one he dreamt of every night.
Yet it wasn't her.
She opened her mouth to say something, but he couldn't hear her. He didn't care to know what she was saying. With a low growl, he jammed the helmet back onto his head. Not bothering to snap it beneath his chin, he jumped onto his bike and peeled away. He knew better than to stop for gas here in town, yet he had stopped anyhow. How could he be so stupid? The whole town was a damned reminder of what he had lost. It was hard enough returning each year; it nearly killed him.
He cut off a car and zoomed down the street. It was time to do what he had come for, and then time to get the hell out of here.
Welcome to Falledge.
Nicholas Adams' personal hell.
*****
Julianna Paige couldn't believe her eyes. Seeing Nick Adams again after all these years came as a shock. He was taller, broader, stronger... but the pain still lingered. His face had turned so pale when he'd seen her. Maybe she shouldn't have tried to talk to him.
She clicked her fuel cap shut and climbed into her car.
"Something wrong?" Mark Hamson asked.
She glanced over at her passenger. His shoulders were smaller than Nick's, but his clothes fit much better. Good looking, yes, but he didn't make her feel alive. No one did. A part of her had died years ago, and she'd never recovered. Probably never would. The only one who understood her pain was Nick, but he had too much of his own to help her deal with hers.
"Nothing." She started the ignition and drove away.
"Wonder where that guy's rushing off to."
Julianna knew exactly where Nick was going, but she neglected to share this information.
"So movie first, or dinner?" Mark reached over and patted her knee.
Eyes still on the road, she removed his hand. "I've told you, I'm not interested."
"And I've told you, I don't take no for an answer."
"Mark..."
"Look, Julianna, we're all worried about you. You're obsessed with work--"
"What's wrong with that?" She didn't bother to deny his claim. They both knew it was true.
"You never get out."
"Because of aforementioned job. There's a lot of paperwork involved and--"
"You need some fun in your life."
Fun. She didn't know what that was anymore. Mark was right -- her job was her life. Keeping Falledge safe wasn't always easy, but it was fulfilling -- the only fulfilling aspect in her life.
She stared at him out of the corner of her eye. Why couldn't she say yes to Mark? Although a little arrogant, he was a good guy.
But she knew how it would play out. All of her previous relationships had followed the same pattern: they started dating, they had fun, the issue of commitment would come up, and she'd take off running.
None had lasted more than six months.
"I'll join a bowling league if it'll make you happy," she said as she turned onto his street.
"The point is, I want you to do what makes you happy." Sighing, he leaned against the car door. "Fine, I give up. For some reason, you don't want this fine specimen."
Despite herself, she laughed.
"But I do know what you like." He reached into his pocket. When she pulled in front of his house, he handed her free pizzas coupons for his restaurant.
"Thank you, but I can't accept." She tried to give them back.
Mark shook his head. "Keep 'em. At least I'll be able to see you a few more times, even if it's not on a date. Thanks for the ride."
"Not a problem. Just watch that pothole -- it's a nasty one."
"Don't I know it. Take care, Julianna."
She waved and drove off. Although she didn't want anyone to get too close, her plans for this evening did not include curling up with a romance novel in bed. Nick had returned to Falledge for some reason, and she was going to find out why.
*****
The shining sun had long set by the time Nicholas willingly left the comfort of his bike. Squaring his shoulders, he took a deep breath and strolled into the cemetery, as if without a care in the world. Nothing could be further from the truth -- each step required all of his will.
It didn't take him long to find her grave. He could find it with his eyes closed.
Nicholas knelt beside the tombstone. He traced the letters, the numbers: Justina Paige 1988-2003.
She had only been fifteen when she died. Ten years had passed. Ten long, lonely years.
He closed his eyes and strove to remember every detail of her face, every line, every freckle. She had two on the right side of her nose, one on the tip. One above her right eyebrow. No, above her left.
Nicholas pounded his fist into the top of her grave marker. How could he forget her face? How could he profess to love her when he hadn't been there for her? Hadn't saved her?
He had failed her. Why hadn't he seen the warning signs? Why hadn't he realized how much she had been hurting inside?
Now he was the one hurt, with no one to blame but himself.
The moon was ready to go into hiding when he knelt down and kissed the "J" in her name. With trembling hands, he removed a black hellebore from inside his shirt. He kissed the dark petals and removed each one from the flower, letting the five petals waver and flutter as they sank to her grave.
With each petal he dropped, he tried to imagine transferring some of his pain into it.
It would help for a week or so, he knew from experience.
He hung his head after the last petal dropped from his fingertips. This was the hardest part -- leaving her again, even though she had been the one to leave him.
A rustling sounded behind him, but he didn't stir. Someone else had come to visit a loved one. He would give them the privacy they deserved.
"I knew you would come," a soft voice said.
Nicholas closed his eyes. With a deep breath that shuddered throughout his body, he slowly turned. It wasn't often that he saw her, and he knew it was only a trick of his mind succumbing to his grief, but he welcomed the chance to see her again.
She looked radiant tonight -- even more beautiful than he remembered. A bright white gown, almost a slip, covered her thin form. With a wide smile, she beckoned him to come to her.
He almost tripped over a grave as he rushed to comply. He knew the rules -- he couldn't touch her but they could talk, sometimes for hours, sometimes only a minute.
Nicholas stopped short, inches from her. "I still miss you so much," he whispered, the words tumbling out of his mouth.
"I know you do."
"You said it would get easier, that time would help..."
"And it will." She nodded sagely, a gesture at odds with her eternally youthful appearance.
"It's been ten years!" To prevent himself from wrapping his arms around her, he clasped them behind his back.
"Time will only help if you want it to. You have to let me go."
"No," he growled. "Never!"
Her form wavered, flicking in and out, then vanished.
Nicholas could have sworn he heard her say, "I love you," before she left, but that might have been only wistful thinking.
He collapsed to the ground. A tear streaked a course down his cheek and dripped onto his hand.
His heart felt as if it was breaking all over again. He would do anything, give anything, to see her again.
"I knew you would come here," a soft, female voice said.
Chapter Two
Nicholas jumped to his feet and rubbed the wetness from his cheek. "Who are you?" he demanded, backing up until his feet bumped into a gravestone.
A figure stepped forward into the early rays of the dawning sun. She looked just like the ghostly vision but with some signs of aging from the extra years she had lived. Justina's twin and the one person he most wanted to avoid out of everyone in Falledge.
"Julianna," he grumbled.
"It's been ten years, Nick." She made no move to step closer to him and stood about five rows away.
"It's Nicholas." He crossed his arms so tightly his muscles budged against the tight sleeves of his shirt.
Julianna raised her eyebrows. "Why now, Nicholas? She died in June, not October."
He turned around so his back faced her. "Don't you think that if I wanted to talk to you I would have sought you out?"
"I'm just trying to understand what happened. What you went through, what she went through. She was my sister and I came to learn, after she died, she wasn't at all the person I thought she was."
The pleading quality in her voice tugged at his heart, but he couldn't bear to look at her. For the first year after Justina's death, he had raged against God, angry and bitter, wishing Julianna had died in Justina's stead. What kind of a person did that make him? He had done the twins a huge disservice, and seeing Julianna after so much time buried him in an avalanche of guilt.
"Please," she begged.
He never thought she would come here tonight, would put the pieces together. Why he hadn't thought that possible, he realized now was stupid. Both girls had been quite bright.
"I want to know what happened, why she--"
"Not now," he said.
"Then when, Nick?"
He bristled, certain she used the nickname on purpose to grate on him. He hadn't allowed anyone to refer to him as "Nick" since her death.
"How do I know you won't leave and not come back again until another ten years have passed?" she pressed. Julianna stepped forward. Nicholas stiffened, but she walked passed him and knelt beside her sister's grave. She picked up a few of his petals, letting them fall between her fingers back onto the grass. "You've come back before, haven't you?"
"Every year," he admitted begrudgingly, not willing to go into more detail, feeling as if he had shared a secret he shouldn't have.
After a long moment of silence, Julianna stood and brushed the dirt from her hands. She faced him. He had forgotten her height. Maybe five seven, five eight. Still a good deal shorter than his own six foot two. "Why don't you come back to my place? It's right next to my parent's. I can make you breakfast and we can talk and--"
He shook his head repeatedly. "I have to get going."
"Driving off on that death trap," she said, suddenly harsh. "Drive until you die, isn't that what you used to say?"
Nicholas was surprised she remembered. He hadn't even owned a bike back then, just a rusted beater car. Sold it shortly after Justina's death and used the money to buy this bike. It got him much better gas mileage. One day, he still hoped to upgrade it to his dream model -- the one he and Justina had planned on driving until they died.
"Yes," he said, so much bitter anger in that short word. He stalked away.
"You can't drive away from the past!"
Maybe not, but Nicholas intended to drive away from here.
Yet, for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to leave immediately. Instead, he slowly rode down the lonely roads, with no destination in mind, as if he wanted to memorize every building. As if he never planned on returning. A good bit of time had passed since he left the cemetery when Nicholas rode by his old house, and Julianna's. She was outside, working on a small garden. Luckily she didn't look up and see him.
Now he couldn't wait to leave, but once he reached the edge of town, he pulled off to the side of the road. His eyes, the traitors, were closing, and if he attempted to drive much farther, he would risk getting into an accident.
There hadn't been much traffic on the road, and Falledge housed a rather tame crowd. He doubted anyone would attempt to steal his bike. Besides, the sound of a pin falling was loud enough to wake him up.
Nicholas halted beside the road. He leaned against a tree. Within seconds of closing his eyes, he was asleep.
Chapter Three
The house was small, with two bedrooms and one bath, yet it was still bigger than his parent's had been.
The woman Perry wrung her hands. "I know it isn't much..." she said.
Nicholas shrugged. Foster parents were all the same -- they pretended to care about you, but they didn't. None of them. He should know. He'd been bounced around long enough to know it was true.
The man cleared his throat. "Dinner will be in an hour. If there's anything you need, anything at all, just let us know, okay?"
Nicholas nodded and walked into the room. The bed looked comfortable, covered with dark green sheets. He opened the top drawer of the bureau. Boxers, underwear, and socks. The second held shirts in several sizes. The last had some shorts and jeans. Were they meant for him? Huh. The clothes weren't really his style, not that he cared about how he looked, but they were clean. The last house he had lived in -- the Carter's -- there hadn't been enough clean clothes. Or food. He had been hungry all the time, and when he got hungry, he tended to get cranky. When he got cranky, he got into fights with Paul. He'd been a prick. Nicholas was glad he had been the one to be rehoused instead of Paul. Let him fight to get more scraps.
