Dark Rising by Miya Chanda (english novels to improve english txt) 📖

her employee. Nothing more.

“Will you be leaving tonight?” The question pulled my attention from thought and our eyes met.

No. Yes. Maybe. “Depends.” I decided, the huskiness in my voice practically giving me away. I wanted her and the truth wasn’t at all alarming. She was sexy, charming, and I really did want to see if she wore a red bra against that creaming white skin of hers.

Alex didn’t seem at all amazed by my half-ass proposition and in response she let the tip of her tongue touch the top of her lip. She watched me, watch her through every hair splitting second of the exotic movement. I couldn’t stop staring if I tired and the swell against my jeans was a testament to that, making it suddenly uncomfortable to sit.

Surprisingly, Alex reached over and picked up my glass of whiskey off the counter. “Depends on…?” she asked, extending the sound of the “n”, waiting for my reason. With my glass in her hand, she gently wiggled it in front of me, urging me to drink with her. I honestly hadn’t planned on even touching the drink. Whiskey wasn’t really a favorite of mine and my only reason for ordering it was to get the bartender off my case.

I glanced to her glass on the counter and noticed her lip printed napkin had disappeared and my mind didn’t give it a second thought.

“My earlier comment about you being late. Do I sill need to make up for it?” I took my glass from her hand and downed the contents in one fire-burning gulp. I honestly hadn’t remembered whiskey burning so bad.

She draped her coat over her elbow. “Why don’t we go to my room and talk it over”.
Chapter 2

Chapter 2


Mira Croisseux, brought her knees to her chin and hugged herself tight, tucking her head down as a wave of the anxiety washed over her for the umpteenth time, a nagging force, which prevented her from resting peacefully some nights. For months now she had been feeling this way and for the life of her she couldn’t understand why. She rocked slowly, closing her eyes and taking in deep measured breaths to calm herself, just like she’d learned to do for her meditation. In. Out. Slow breathing.

She was sitting in the middle of her bed in the dark of her large chambers. The wind whistled through the bare branches outside, scraping gently and creating a rhythmic “tick…tick, tick” against the window behind her. She set like that, rocking, for a long moment before finally opening her eyes and lifting her chin to rest on her knees, her efforts at last settling her frazzled nerves.

There was a light “knock, knock” at her door which made her jump, nearly dissolving her resolve. She threw back her thick blanket and tip toed her way across the cold hard wood floor. The door gave a soft groan as she cracked it open, and she wasn’t at all surprised by who was standing behind.

Dominique was a longtime friend. Well, the only friend she really had at the complex that treated her like an actual person. His tall frame and slim built blocked almost all of the light seeping from the hall way through the crack. His chocolate hair was a wild mess -probably from the wind outside- and he wore his usual uniform; khaki pants with a black blazer over a grey sweatshirt. He worked as a night guard for the complex they lived in and he always took some time from his night shift to come and check up on her. She loves his visits.

His smile was warm. “Everything okay?” His French accent turned his “T’s” into “S’s” and he occasionally rolled his “R’s”.

“Everything’s fine.” She smiled back, hoping the half-lie didn’t show too much. She didn’t want to appear as helpless as she had a few nights ago. And she had actually managed to dissolve her anxiety attack faster than normal tonight. So, really everything was fine.

“You sure?” His brows raised and he gave her a concerned look. “I’ve known you long enough to know, you are horrible at lying. So, if there is anything I can do—.”

She shook her head to that. “I’m fine, really. I had a small anxiety attack earlier but I managed.”

Dominique was a good man. Not that she knew too many others as well as she knew him, but he made her feel good. He was strong and honorable and he made her feel safe.

Salut, a group originating from France who believed in the old religion, The Gods, raised her. André, being the leader of the group, had taken her in after her grand-mère had disappeared when she was five. He had become her father but kept her on a short leash. Having lived in the closed inner life, she’d never truly seen the world outside of their walls. She wasn’t allowed to leave the complex for anything, so naturally everything was provided for her.

Dominique had come to Salut with his mother as a teenager and it was after a congregational meeting when she’d met him. He had been a scrawny kid growing up but before she’d known it, he’d turned into a man.

He shifted his eyes thoughtfully to the ground then back up to her and gave a sigh “I came to remind you, Salut council will be here tomorrow night, André expects you to be present.”

Oh, she’d almost forgotten about the council’s arrival and she fought back a heavy dose of dread suddenly building in her belly. The time was truly drawing near for her death to take place and even though a part of her was more than willing to give her life for the greater good, a small part of her was heartsick. She didn’t want to leave her family. She didn’t want to leave Dominique. But she knew that if she focused on what she didn’t want, she would only dread the coming day even more. Accepting the gift to give her life to make the world a better place was not a curse, it was a blessing and she would gladly do it.

She pulled on a grateful smile, willing the corners of her lips to stay…actively appreciative. “Thanks. I almost forgot.”
In noticing her failing efforts he said something barely audible in French before touching her hand that gripped the edge of the door.

“Vous êtes dans mes pensées”

You’re in my thoughts.

It warmed her and steadied her resolve in the decision she’d made when she was a child.

They were about to say their good nights, when Dominique stopped the door from closing with his foot, his eyes not on her but on something behind her. She looked back, curious to know exactly what had caught his attention only she didn’t see anything. Dominique gently pushed the door open and she backed up enough for him to slip through into her room. Pulling out a black gun from the inside of his jacket, Mira took another cautious step back realizing that whatever he saw was no joke.

“What is it?” she whispered, standing only a few feet behind him now.

Dominique held up two fingers to his lips, signaling for her silence as he slowly headed towards the bathroom door.
There was someone in her bathroom? But how? There were no windows and the only door leading out was the one leading in.

Mira, fiddled with the hem of her camisole nighty as Dominique turned the nob giving the door a little nudge to open itself all the way.
It was darker then black in the bathroom all except for a shifting shadow and the quick flash of silver catching a glare from somewhere. Dominique raised his gun and was about entered the room.

“No, wait!” she held out a hand but it was too late.

The shadow partially emerged from the black abyss and she caught a glimpse of what looked like a large paw. It knocked the gun from

Dominique’s hand quick and sent it flying low across the room under her bed.

Dominique staggered back, and fell to the ground with a “thud”. He tried to right himself as quickly as possible but whatever was in the bathroom grabbed him by the legs and tugged his body half way into the darkness. He caught himself on the outer frame of the door with both hands.

“Mira, run!” he yelled. “Go tell the others!”

But she couldn’t just leave him here. She couldn’t allow the only friend she had to get eaten by the monster in her bathroom. The decision to flee to go get help and hope he was still alive when she got back or to remain and aid him the best way she could hung in the balance before she made her choice.

With the bravery she’d been storing for her final day, she leaped forward and grabbed onto the back of Dominique’s blazer, pulling with every ounce of strength she could muster. Dominique continued to kick with his feet, intent on maiming the beast.

“Get the gun, Mira!” he yelled. “Protect yourself.”

“But, if I let you go--.”

“The gun!”

She reluctantly let go of his blazer and her heart nearly dropped into her early grave when he slid a few more feet into the bathroom.

But he continued to brace himself, still gripping the doorframe. She hurried to the other side of her bed and dropped to all fours sweeping her hand underneath the bed until she felt cold hard metal touch the tip of her fingers.

She gripped the gun and stood, not quite sure how to use it. Point and shoot. Should be easy enough, right? Like in the movies.

She came around to the foot of the bed and raised the gun, aiming into the darkness of the bathroom. Dominique looked over his shoulder and braced himself squinting as she shot off a round.

The sound bellowed through the enclosure, shredding through her eardrum and she stumble back not anticipating the kick back. She closed her eyes, and clutched her ears with both hands, dropping the gun to the floor and another bullet went off. She jumped and prayed to the Gods that it hadn’t hit Dominique.

A loud scream, which sounded more animalistic than anything she’d ever heard, echoed through the room. And she opened her eyes just in time to see a large black paw spring with claws and sinking them into Dominique’s chest.

The man bellowed a gut-wrenching scream as blood puddled from his wounds. Dominique