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    Nikole
    Nikole
    Nikole
    Ebook269 pages4 hours

    Nikole

    By Severine Wolfe

    ()

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    About this ebook

    She’d been born and bred on the streets of Atlanta.

    Nikole Harvey had been born to a drug addicted mother and lived on the streets of Atlanta, just trying to survive and stay out of the system. The voices began catching her attention until she was overcome with the desire to kill, to commit murder. She’d been locked up and drugged to the heavens just to keep the voices at bay and her urge to murder under control.

    Then she’d been found, and she’d learned she wasn’t insane. She wasn’t crazy, she was a modern-day Paladin.

    Taken in and trained up, she finds her new path exciting and educational. She begins to trust again. To dare to hope.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSeverine Wolfe
    Release dateOct 26, 2021
    ISBN9781005591953
    Nikole
    Author

    Severine Wolfe

    Severine Wolfe is a pen name. It's also a name I've used across the gaming world for nearly 20 years. I answer to, "Hey, Sev!" just as easily as my birth name.I am married and have four grown children and three grandchildren. I love to read and I read everything from treatises on philosophy to theories on the speed of light to the most bawdy of bodice rippers. My interests are varied but reading, knitting and gardening are my top three. Extreme knitting, not for the faint of heart.I've had stories running around my head for years and I'm just now letting them out to put themselves on the virtual page. I hope you enjoy the characters as much as I have over the years. You can contact me at [email protected].

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      Book preview

      Nikole - Severine Wolfe

      Nikole

      Urban Paladins Book 6

      By Severine Wolfe

      Nikole

      Copyright © 2021 by Severine Wolfe

      First E-Book Published October 2021

      Cover design by Melody Simmons

      Proofread by Stephanie Taylor Flores

      ISBN: 9781005591953

      ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission from the author.

      All characters, places, and events in this book are fictitious or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is strictly coincidental.

      License Statement

      This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      She’d been born and bred on the streets of Atlanta.

      Nikole Harvey had been born to a drug addicted mother and lived on the streets of Atlanta, just trying to survive and stay out of the system. The voices began catching her attention until she was overcome with the desire to kill, to commit murder. She’d been locked up and drugged to the heavens just to keep the voices at bay and her urge to murder under control.

      Then she’d been found, and she’d learned she wasn’t insane. She wasn’t crazy, she was a modern-day Paladin.

      Taken in and trained up, she finds her new path exciting and educational. She begins to trust again. To dare to hope.

      Dedication

      This book is dedicated to the intrepid reader who asked why there were no black Paladins. She wished to remain anonymous, but her question got me to thinking…

      ONE

      My eyes seemed to be welded shut but I heard the voice of an angel, a bossy angel, telling me to try to open my eyes. I just wanted to sleep. Then I wouldn’t keep feeling like I wanted to hurt people and know I was going crazy. All I wanted to do was kill people who I just knew, somehow, were doing bad things.

      At least I wasn’t dead because there was no way heaven smelled like a hospital.

      At least I wasn’t hearing voices, except the bossy angel.

      Come on, sweetheart, I really need for you to give me permission to get you out of here.

      I made an effort to open my eyes to just a slit. The light was painful, and I hissed in a breath at the stabbing pain.

      Dim the lights, asshole, the angelic voice gave another order, but this time he sounded mean. How much of a fucking sedative did you give her? He sounded angry I was drugged, but if I wasn’t drugged, I kept wanting to kill people.

      Bad… people… I managed to mutter. It seemed to be the only thing I could say since I had gone to a new shelter that had hot food and a warm bed for the night.

      That’s all she seems to say, came the bored voice of the asshole I really wanted to gut.

      I winced. His voice, his presence was bringing the urge to kill him. I began crying. I really didn’t want to kill people because I was crazy. I didn’t want to kill people at all.

      The angel squatted down so I could barely see his beautiful face between the slits of my eyelids. He was just like the pictures in the books in the religious shelters and the stained-glass windows. His face was beyond beautiful for a white man. He had golden hair and sparkling blue eyes. He leaned into me and whispered.

      Is that man a bad person?

      I squeezed my eyes shut and nodded, still crying. How did he know I felt bad people?

      Nelek, the angel spoke, and I heard a rustle of something and then just quiet.

      What do we tell them, Another man’s voice asked.

      Nothing, we’re taking her out of here. We already have the Church’s permission to move her to Texas. She’s going nuts surrounded by people who are evidently evil. It appears her call may be very sensitive.

      I heard a low hum and then felt arms picking me up.

      We’re getting you out of here, sweetheart. You’ll be around good people that will help you heal.

      I had no idea there was such a place on earth. I was going to have to believe the angel. He’d made the bad person go away. I felt that to my soul.

      *****

      For the first time in my life, I was flying on a plane. It was bad I couldn’t open my eyes or stay awake long enough to take it all in. The hum of the engines wasn’t bothering me at all. I was lying in a bed with no idea how I’d gotten there. Hell, I’d never been on a plane in my life.

      Somewhere, inside my head, I wondered where they were taking me. Was this what happened to the other kids who disappeared from the streets suddenly and forever?

      I floated, not really caring. I heard a door open and tried to open my eyes. It was just easier to keep them shut, so I did. I heard whoever it was approach the bed.

      I don’t know if you’re really awake or not, but I’m putting a bottle of water here if you wake up and you’re thirsty. It was the voice of the other guy from the room. He sounded shy and kind. I got no urge to kill him. He had to be a good person. There is a bathroom in here, feel free to use it. There is a shower in there if you feel well enough, but we’re landing in about an hour, so you may just want to wait.

      I didn’t feel like doing anything but sleeping. So, I did.

      *****

      I woke up and was able to open my eyes. The light hurt them, but it was very dim in the room… wherever that was. I slowly got used to it and turned my head to look at where I was.

      The walls were a very light green with a thing at the top that went around the room with waves on it. There were pretty, frilly white curtains with blinds in the windows that were closed. All of the doors I could see were closed.

      I pushed myself up to sitting and found I was in a nightgown. I hadn’t worn one of those in so many years, sleeping in my clothes, that that was the biggest surprise. Who the hell had put me into it?

      I jumped when a knock came on the door on the opposite side of the room from me and a beautiful woman in glasses popped her head in and smiled at me.

      Oh! Good, you’re awake, she smiled at me and walked in, closing the door behind her. She had hair that was either dark blonde or very light brown, I couldn’t decide. She had big, blue eyes, behind her glasses. She walked up to the bed and held her hand out. I’m Allie Hayes, she rubbed her little baby bump. My husband is Martin and we brought you here to help heal you.

      Sure, they did. Kidnap a street kid in one city, drag them somewhere else and set them up as your house slave. All street kids knew it happened.

      I brought you up some sweats and some flip flops. We can go out later today and get you some clothes and shoes.

      I remained silent. In my experience, if you stayed silent, most people couldn’t help but out themselves.

      We’re making breakfast downstairs if you’re hungry. She then looked around. The bathroom is right here, she opened a door, and I could see into another room the same color as the bedroom. I’d never heard of having a bathroom in a bedroom. Only rich folk did that sort of thing. She walked back over to me.

      I know this is very weird. I know a lot of what you’re feeling. We can talk and discuss it over breakfast. I’ll leave you to get a shower and get dressed. Then just come downstairs.

      She then walked briskly out the door.

      I continued to sit on the bed, wondering if I was still in the crazy house and was now hallucinating from all the drugs they’d pumped into me over the past week.

      I swung my legs over the edge of the mattress and grabbed the bottle of water. I was thirsty as hell. I was angry about all of the drugs. When you grow up with an addicted parent, odds are you never want to touch the stuff. I grew up watching junkies either scratching or high. Tweakers were the worst. I remember overhearing a conversation between two people who worked at one of the first shelters I’d gone to after my mother overdosed. The dude had told another dude that getting people to try drugs had to be one hell of a sell job. Then the other dude laughed and said that if you’d ever seen an addict, you would not want that.

      They weren’t wrong.

      I drank down the bottle and saw two more on the chest of drawers across the room. I grabbed one on my way into the bathroom. I stopped the moment I walked through the door.

      Holy fucking shit. White people be crazy.

      I’d never seen such a big bathroom for one person. It had a huge tub, a big walk-in shower I had no idea how to even turn on, and the cleanest commode I’d ever seen.

      There was a huge mirror over the long counter with a sink that looked like a bowl sitting on a countertop. My jaw dropped. As a street kid I was used to not looking my best, ever. But I looked like someone had stuck me in a blender and just thrown me out against a wall. I was pale, ashy, and my hair was a mess.

      That was when I spied coco and shae butter, rich people stuff, in cute little jars, on the counter along with moisturizing lotion. I peeked inside the shower and there were hair care products just for black hair. Holy shit.

      Who did this kind of shit? For a black girl from the streets of Atlanta? No one. Nobody up to any good at any rate.

      My mind was telling me I didn’t feel like they were bad, and I should kill them, but nothing like this happened in real life. Ever.

      I noticed the shower controls and figured out how to turn it on and make the water hot enough. I used the wonderful smelling soap, and the best shampoo and conditioner I’d heard of but never actually seen. They were usually locked up in stores street kids were allowed into.

      I got out and toweled off. The towels were a darker shade of the tile and paint in the bathroom and were so incredibly soft. They actually got you dry.

      I used the moisturizers and then found the oils I needed to put in my hair. It looked much better than before. So did I, come to think of it. I had seriously lost weight I already could not afford to lose, and I was pale for my skin tone.

      My stomach chose that time to remind me that I could not actually remember eating anything.

      I went out into the bedroom and locked the door, a luxury I’d never had in my entire life. I hurried to get dressed and then looked at the flip flops. Would they give me shoes if I would only try to run away from them? I’d heard shit from other kids on the street and in the shelters. There was one girl who had been gang raped for days until she just escaped naked as the day she was born, screaming all the way.

      Street kids were easy prey. No one noticed us and if we disappeared, no one cared. One less mouth to feed, and there were hundreds standing in line to take your bed at a shelter.

      I unlocked the door and peeked out into a hallway and saw a blonde headed dude standing across from my door, evidently holding up the wall.

      He smiled kindly.

      They asked me to come walk you downstairs. It’s a pretty big house, came the voice I’d remembered hearing at the hospital, and from the plane ride.

      He was tall and skinny with white, blond hair and shocking blue eyes. But they were kind. His eyes were not scheming, and his feel was… pure. That same feeling that told me when evil was about, also told me when good was about. This guy was good.

      He walked down the hallway to a stair landing. I looked down and saw the woman, Allie, in the open kitchen with a man with brown, curly hair who was hella good looking. His wicked smile hinted at a sense of humor. He walked up to Allie and took her in his arms. He whispered something in her ear, and she giggled and swatted him away.

      Behave! She told him with a huge smile on her face. These people were genuinely happy. That must be her husband, Martin. Who named their kid Martin anymore?

      That’s Allie and Martin and that’s all they really do, the blond dude said, with a smile. I’m amazed it took them this long to have a baby.

      I looked at him. What’s your name?

      Nelek, I’m from Poland. Welcome to the madness, he said and galloped down the stairs. Breakfast! He yelled and another young man with brown hair, darker than Martin’s walked in from another room.

      Jesus, Nelek, you act like my sister never feeds you.

      He looked up; a piece of toast stuffed in his mouth. He chewed and swallowed. I’m going through a growth spurt, Brion. I think you would be more sensitive to that. Since the Brion guy was a bit shorter than Nelek it was a solid slap back.

      The guy said nothing and sat down at the table, like he was waiting to be served. A wooden spoon sailed through the air and hit him squarely in the head.

      Help put the stuff on the table, asshole, Allie growled and then growled at Martin who was about to steal a piece of bacon. All of you are… she stopped and noticed me still up on the landing watching their show. Her head fell.

      Oh, Jesus, Allie said quietly. Now she’s going to think we’re a circus. I can’t take you guys anywhere.

      Everyone then looked up at me and I felt like I was being busted for being on the street in an area where I wasn’t supposed to be.

      Come on down, Nikole, Martin smiled and waved me down. I promise, we’re only slightly insane.

      Brion smirked. Says you. Personally, I think we’re all bat shit crazy.

      That’s the beauty of being us. We really are, Martin chuckled as he pulled out Allie’s chair after getting the food on the table with the other guys helping.

      I walked down the stairs and cautiously approached the table.

      Come and eat, Brion waved me over. He waved at the empty chair with his fork. Eat before Nelek takes it all.

      Like you’re starving, Allie said and took some French toast off of the plate in front of her.

      I sat down and my stomach growled.

      See? Brion pointed out, smiling at me. She’s starving.

      Allie looked up at me. Do you want juice or coffee?

      I smiled because Allie just made you want to be nice. Juice would be better, I think. I’ve never really had coffee that much.

      Martin watched me and grinned. I love her accent. It’s so different from ours.

      Allie shook her head and poured me a small glass of orange juice. Because she’s from a real Southern state, not Texas.

      Y’all don’t have an accent, I said without thinking. Instead of the anger or shock I’d expected, everyone laughed.

      We do to Yankees, Martin said.

      What about my accent? Everyone thinks I’m Russian, Nelek put out there.

      Allie chuckled and went pale a moment. Martin stood up and went to her, whispering to her. She shook her head.

      I’m fine. I’m just going to chew on some toast for a moment.

      She must still be having morning sickness.

      Martin went and sat back in his seat, still watching his wife like a hawk.

      I just picked at the food, but then my appetite truly kicked in and I was wolfing down the food. It was delicious and nothing like the crap they served in the shelters, which was usually a box of cereal and a half pint of milk.

      They talked amongst themselves until everyone was pouring coffee and I asked for another glass of juice, which was gladly given.

      I know this seems weird, Nikole, Allie said as they all quieted down. Do you feel better now?

      I nodded. Much better, but I’m afraid I might need to be medicated. I get this urge to just kill someone, and it won’t go away. I have to do it. I felt my eyes water. I think I’m some kind of murdering maniac.

      Allie got up and walked around the table, and hugged me tightly, petting my hair, like I’ve seen real moms do with their children when they cried. She felt like a mom. A good mom. A real mom.

      You’re not a murdering maniac, Nikole, Martin spoke quietly, like he was afraid I’d suddenly jump up and attack his wife. Nothing could be further from the truth. Allie made the urges disappear completely. I felt like I could actually relax.

      Do you know what a Paladin is? Brion asked, slathering jelly on the last piece of toast, smirking at Nelek.

      I heard some dudes talking about playing a game…

      They all nodded, and Allie went to sit back down after looking in my eyes to make sure I was alright. It was more care than I’d been shown my entire life and that made me want to cry, too.

      Paladins have been a myth for a very long time. A very, very long time, Martin said. They are holy warriors who have a call to eradicate evil.

      What? I didn’t understand the words he was saying.

      They have a need to rid the world of evil, Brion commented, then nodded at Martin to continue.

      Everyone thinks they are some fantasy knight or people in games, but they are real, Martin said. When they come into contact with evil, they feel a need, an uncontrollable urge to get rid of it. They can manifest a sword that will turn the evil into ash.

      Okay, now white boy was trippin’ balls.

      That urge you felt? Allie spoke. You felt like you had to kill someone? That was your Call telling you to get rid of evil.

      Uh huh, was all I could say. They were all trippin’. What the hell had been in the breakfast I’d eaten?

      Hey, Nikole, Brion said, and I looked to my right, and he was holding out his hand and then suddenly a sword popped into it like magic.

      I gasped and jumped out of my chair. Holy shit, I’d been kidnapped by crazy white people who were going to cut me up with giant swords. I just kept backing up, shaking my head. I had gone insane, and this was one fucking big hallucination.

      Brion! Allie cried out. Put that away! You’re scaring her to death! She got up and walked slowly to me.

      It’s alright, Nikole. No one here will ever hurt you. I swear it.

      It was like she was making a vow and I could feel the snap of it inside my mind and I believed her. I just stood there like a rock.

      We’re not going to hurt you, honey, Allie said quietly as she took my hand, and I could feel her sincerity. We’re just trying to tell you who we, and you, really are. Someday soon, you’ll be able to summon your own sword. She looked back at Martin and smiled. I remember the first time I summoned mine. I felt like the queen of the world, like I’d performed a miracle and I’m not even religious.

      That pinged me back into the present.

      I thought you guys said you were Holy Warriors.

      Allie nodded. That’s part of the myth, but we’ve also noted in our histories, that Paladins only occur in societies where the myth of the Holy Warrior exist. In fact, you’re the first black Paladin anyone has ever seen.

      Oh, racism raises its ugly head.

      "Because Africa doesn’t have

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