Balance (The Balance Series Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Balance

  Copyright

  Also by Janelle Stalder

  Dedication

  Prologue

  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

  Afterword

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Black Quill Publishing

  Copyright © 2016 Janelle Stalder

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Artwork done by Harper Skye Designs

  Formatting by Cover Me Darling and Athena Interior Book Design

  ISBN: 1539049671

  ISBN-13: 978-1539049678

  Also by Janelle Stalder

  EDEN SERIES

  EDEN

  EDEN-WEST

  EDEN-SOUTH

  EDEN-EAST

  NEW WORLD SERIES

  SWITCH

  MASKED

  TESTED

  UNDERGROUND

  SILENCE

  BLOOMFIELD SERIES

  BRUSH STROKES

  SIMPLE BEGINNINGS

  DECIDING LOVE

  YOUNG LOVE

  BALANCE SERIES

  BALANCE

  POISE

  This book is 100% dedicated to my wonderful readers. This was the very first novel I ever wrote. I hope you all enjoy it!

  Happy Reading!

  xo

  Janelle

  Russia, 1906

  The frigid wind whipped around him, biting into every crevice of his body. He wrapped his coat more tightly around him, trying to protect himself from the freezing Russian winter. Nicholas hated the cold, especially in the countryside where all the roads were slick with ice, and the bare trees loomed over you, their skeletal hands reaching down. The barren fields seemed to stretch for miles, making one feel lost and deserted. He could hear the bells calling people to Mass back in the village, and prayed no one would take notice of him walking in the opposite direction.

  The country right now was rumbling. Anyone with half a brain could feel the tense mood that hung in the air like a grey cloud over their heads. Even the peasants seemed to have something up their sleeves. Nicholas knew that a country this size would never lie at peace for long, especially with the various religions and nationalities stirring up political conflict wherever you looked.

  The Tsar, and all his nobility, would have to be careful not to upset the Jews and Muslims more than they already had, Nicholas thought bitterly.

  He looked back at the large dome of the Orthodox Church and almost wished he could go there, knowing it would be warm with all those bodies pressed inside. He had other things to attend to though, so he picked up his pace and tried to avoid the puddles that lined the sides of the roads where the sun had melted the snow into a brown slush.

  The elders had called a meeting that morning. Nicholas admitted to himself that he was slightly irritated over the late warning. Did they always expect everyone to just drop what they were doing to meet when they felt it necessary? He realized their mission was important, but everyone had normal jobs to maintain as well.

  “Nicholas!”

  Hearing his name called, he looked up and squinted against the harsh winds. It was impossible to make out who it was through the tears welling up in his eyes. As he approached the small house that sat far back from the road, he recognized his friend, Alexander, standing on the covered porch. He waved hello as he walked down the earthy path that led to the door.

  “Cold day isn’t it?” Alex commented as he waited for his friend.

  “Cold does not even describe this weather,” Nicholas answered. “I can’t stand this country in the winter.” He gave his friend a quick smile and they briefly embraced hello before stepping inside.

  “Have the others arrived?” he asked Alex, hanging his coat up.

  “Not yet, but they’re on their way. I’m sure most of them are tied up in some political nonsense. I tell you Nicholas my boy, in another ten years or so we’re going to have a full out revolution on our hands here.” The two men walked into a room where a large round table sat with twelve chairs placed around it. Each took a seat and waited.

  “A revolution?” Nicholas toyed with the idea. “It’s possible I suppose, although I don’t know if the peasants in this country really have it in them.”

  “There is always strength in numbers, my friend. The Tsar might be handing out hereditary titles like candy to his high officials and officers, but they still don’t outnumber the peasantry in this country.”

  “Well then that is one more thing for us to worry about I suppose,” Nicholas sighed. I need a nap, or a really long getaway, he thought wearily. “What do you suppose this meeting is about?” he asked his friend, changing subjects.

  “No idea, but it must be important if they wanted us all here.” Alex stood up and poured them both a glass of ale while they waited for the others.

  Soon each of the twelve chairs had been filled. The room was a dark, rustic looking place that smelled of burning wood from the large hearth that stood at the far end. The ceilings were low, so the heat filled the place nicely, making Nicholas feel more comfortable than he had all morning.

  He wasn’t sure who exactly owned this house, but it didn’t seem to be used often. Cobwebs filled each corner; the dust on the paintings probably collecting there for years. The only clean surface happened to be the large wooden table they sat around. It was likely the only piece of furniture actually used in this place.

  The meeting was called to order. Nicholas sat forward, listening intently.

  “We have reason to believe that the family has made preparations to move elsewhere,” someone was saying.

  “Where is elsewhere?” asked another.

  “We believe they are going overseas, most likely to the United States of America. We think they will try to live there now, hoping we will lose them in the increasingly growing world overseas.”

  “They have lived in Ireland for centuries now, why would they move all of a sudden?” Alexander asked.

  “Time is of no consequence to them, nor do they have any sort of sentimental attachment to their surroundings. I’m sure they will only leave to come back again when He gets bored with what the New World has to offer.”

  “And his children?” Nicholas asked.

  “There is only one left right now, the others have died out. This move could be a way for him to find a new woman to bear him more, but we’re not sure. What this change truly means to us is that we are going to have to spread our sources out even thinner than we have in the past. With travel becoming easier, he will go wherever he wants more often now.” The men sitting around the table nodded in agreement. Nicholas felt sick at the thought of this man having more access to the world he infested.

  “So we set up shop over there now too?” Alex asked.

  “We’ll have to have people watching for him in every country. The main elders will stay here of course, but now is the time for us to recruit more men, soldiers you could say, to start doing our work outside of this room.”

  Suddenly Boris, the eldest of the men there, and consequently the one who had served the Brotherhood the longest, cleared his throat readying himself to speak. The others quieted down
.

  “The growth of technology and society will make it both easier and harder for us, my brothers, to watch over him and his family. He might have one child now, but we all know that he will produce more in the future, and they will also have to be closely watched.”

  “The prophecy must not come to pass,” someone added.

  A collective murmur ran around the room.

  “That being said,” Boris said, settling the table down, “let us not feel overwhelmed by the task at hand, and know that we have been doing this for many years now, and will continue to do so as each generation passes. This curse on mankind will be around forever, but so will we, and we will always be there to make his existence that much more difficult.”

  Nicholas didn’t feel comforted by what was meant to be an encouraging and reassuring speech. He knew this move just meant that the family felt more comfortable about living in the human world, and blending in with those around them. This would only make the Brotherhood’s job that much harder. He kept his reservations to himself however, and thought maybe a new life over in a milder country might actually do him some good.

  Sitting quietly as the others talked around him, he began to think about what would come in the future for him and the Brotherhood. One day, all those who sat around this table would be gone, and a new generation would have been given their task. He could only pray that they would succeed in stopping this force of evil, once and for all.

  “Nicholas, a moment?”

  He looked up at Boris, who waited patiently by his seat. Standing, he followed the elder to an adjoining room, one much smaller than the previous. Two chairs sat before a blazing hearth, their fabric worn with age.

  Nicholas waited until his superior took a seat before following suit. He’d never been called aside individually this way. His stomach twisted with both nerves and anticipation.

  “I am told your business is doing rather well,” he began.

  “It is,” Nicholas said, sitting forward. He’d begun is small law office only five years earlier, but was making a comfortable living. It gave him the freedom to do his work, and still be loyal to the Brotherhood and any tasks they demanded.

  “I know how difficult it would be to leave it, and your home, but there is something important we must ask you to do.”

  “Of course,” he said without hesitation.

  “The prophecy,” he began with a sigh. Nicholas sat up straighter, his heart picking up speed.

  “What of it, sir?”

  “There are rumours that the remaining son and father are at odds over a human female the son has taken to. We need someone to go to Ireland and keep a close eye on the pair. Some of the other elders are afraid this woman is the one foretold, and we cannot lose her, or the son, if they decide to join the father in the Americas.”

  “When should I leave?”

  “Immediately,” he answered. “This is of grave importance. It’s still unclear if the father knows of the prophecy. But if he does, it could mean very dire things for both the son and the woman. We don’t want anything to happen to her at his hands.”

  “I will do everything I can,” he promised.

  Boris nodded, leaning further into the cushion as though all his energy had been finally drained. “Then I wish you safe travels. Know that God is with you on your journey. No matter what happens, he will be watching over you in your fight against evil.”

  Nicholas nodded in thanks. They both bowed their heads for a quick prayer before he left the elder to his peace, rejoining the others in the larger room. Grabbing a mug, he drank the rest of the ale, calming his nerves.

  This would be his chance to make a difference. His opportunity to fight against evil and stop the angel who had fallen so far from heaven, he no longer resembled the beauty of the angels there. He would make sure no other lives were ruined, especially not under his watch.

  The prophecy could not come to pass. The entire order of things would change, and all that they knew would be thrown off balance.

  “Banks and Sons, please hold.”

  Click.

  “Banks and Sons, please hold.”

  Click.

  “Banks and Sons, I’ll patch you through.”

  I looked around the office of the biggest law firm in town, and took a deep breath, gripping the strap of my bag as though for dear life. This was it.

  This was it.

  The beginning of the rest of my life. I was officially interning at the top defence attorney’s office for the entire summer. I was still having a hard time coming to terms with my luck. They didn’t take a lot of interns here, especially not ones who were just entering their first year of college. Why they chose me, I had no idea, but I wasn’t about to complain.

  My focus went back to the robotic woman behind the reception desk. By the number of people she had put on hold, I was starting to wonder what calls she actually took.

  I’d already been standing here for fifteen minutes, and she’d yet to come up for air. I was starting to wonder if the headpiece was an extension of her actual head. A brief meeting of eyes had been my only clue that she even knew I was here.

  Walking over to the row of plush, leather seats they had set up in the small waiting area, I sat down, resolved to wait until I was finally deemed important enough for her attention. Pulling out my cell, I typed a quick message to Amanda, my best friend.

  Me: I’m here. It’s insane. The lady at the front reminds me of the reception girl from Monster’s Inc.

  Only a second went by before I saw the three dots in the corner of the screen, telling me she was already replying. Amanda and I had been best friends since elementary school, spending almost all our free time together. Summers were always ours. If I wasn’t at her house, she was at mine. We did everything together.

  That would all change this summer. And in the fall. My shoulders slumped at the reminder. Come September, we’d be off to different schools to pursue our own careers. I’d be at Cornell, and then law school after that, while Amanda went off to New York to become a famous artist. I had no doubt she’d do just that.

  Amanda: Does she have snakes for hair?

  Me: lol. No. Just regular hair.

  Amanda: Bummer.

  Me: Sorry to disappoint. What are you doing?

  Amanda: Dragging my lazy ass out of bed. I start at 10.

  Me: Wow, that’s early for you.

  Amanda: I know, right? Crazy adultness going on over here. I’ve never had a job this early in my life.

  I snickered as my phone vibrated again.

  Amanda: Why aren’t you busy becoming a lawyer and shit?

  I sighed out loud, casting the receptionist another forlorn look.

  Me: I haven’t been able to talk to anyone yet :(

  Amanda: No yummy young Banks blood? (I’m wriggling my eyebrows, but you can’t see)

  I grimaced, inwardly groaning.

  It was no secret that the senior partner here, Dermot Banks, was a major babe. He had to be somewhere in his forties, but the man was a god. There’d been quite a few times where I had found myself admiring him from the society pages in our newspaper. I considered it another plus to working here.

  But that wasn’t what my lovely friend was referring to. Oh no. She was talking about his younger son, Kellan Banks, an existence I had only heard about – until recently.

  My cheeks flamed as the memory came back in haunting flashes, just as it had since Friday night. I’d been on my way home from Phillip Granger’s house when the whole debacle occurred.

  In my defence, I had been in a rush and preoccupied, since the current girlfriend of my ex had just “accidentally” spilled an entire solo cup of cheap beer down the front of my shirt. I’d been mortified, but I’d had enough self-respect to take that as my cue to leave rather than start a full-out catfight in the middle of the party. Much to the onlookers’ dismay, I was sure.

  In my haste to get back to my bed, and away from the idiots I’d spent the last four years of my li
fe with (not including Amanda and my other bestie Blake, of course), I’d walked out into the street with my head down, only to be met with two bright headlights. The horn had barely registered as I’d stared into the white light as though I was about to see the pearly gates themselves.

  “Hey,” the driver had called out, breaking me out of my trance. “Are you okay?”

  I’d muttered something unintelligible, and had stepped back onto the sidewalk, watching in horror as the passenger side window lowered to reveal the owner of the voice. Since it was my lucky night, clearly, it only made sense that the person who’d almost just killed me, also happened to be insanely gorgeous.

  Dark hair was messily styled above grey eyes that watched me with unconcealed amusement.

  “You sure you’re okay?” he asked, his eyes dropping down the front of me.

  I’d wanted the ground to swallow me up right then. Who knew how bad I looked, my painfully straightened hair now a frizzy, wavy mess, and the thin material of my shirt clinging to me as I smelled like a walking, talking beer keg.

  Well, maybe not talking.

  So far, all I’d managed to do was stare at the guy. Clearing my throat, I’d tried my best to smile, hoping I didn’t look as pathetic as I knew I probably did. “I’m fine,” I’d assured him. “Really.”

  He’d smiled, sending me a wink before slowly driving away. I’d stood there and watched him for a minute, mostly to catch my breath, but also because I wasn’t sure my legs were still working after the whole encounter.

  While I’d watched him was when I’d noticed the final nail in my coffin for the evening. His shiny, black BMW happened to have a personalized plate. Because why wouldn’t there be? Rich people didn’t want some regular license plate like the rest of us poor folk.

  Right there, in blue and white, were six letters that would haunt me for the rest of the weekend.

  K BANKS

  I’d put it together instantly. There was only one family with the name Banks in this town, and they also happened to be the only family who would drive around in a car like that one. Needless to say, it was an easy deduction to surmise.