The White Aura (The White Aura Series) Read online

  The White Aura

  Book One

  By Felicia Tatum

  Copyright © 2012 Felicia Tatum

  All rights reserved.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my wonderful daughter, Amelia. Everything I do is to make her life better. Mommy loves you, darling J

  Contents

  Olivia

  Scott

  Olivia

  Scott

  Olivia

  Scott

  Olivia

  Scott

  Olivia

  Scott

  Olivia

  Scott

  Olivia

  Scott

  Olivia

  Scott

  Olivia

  Scott

  Olivia

  Scott

  Olivia

  Scott

  Olivia

  Scott

  Olivia

  Scott

  Olivia

  Scott

  Olivia

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  Olivia

  Scott

  Olivia

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  Olivia

  Scott

  Olivia

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  Olivia

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  Olivia

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  Olivia

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  Olivia

  Scott

  Olivia

  Scott

  Olivia

  Scott

  Olivia

  Scott

  Olivia

  Scott

  Olivia

  Scott

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Olivia

  My nails dug deep into the flesh on his back, and my lips found his neck. He growled and pulled me by my hair to his face. I gently bit and kissed those magnificent lips. A low rumble escaped his throat as he pulled me closer. Strong fingers found my hair and pulled my head until I was facing him. Soft lips kissed me hard and strong arms lifted me off the floor. My legs wrapped around his back as he pushed me against the wall.

  My gosh, he was a good kisser!

  I leaned my head aside as he found my neck and bit me. My nails dug in his strong shoulders even more…I was sure I would bring blood to his skin, but I didn’t think he cared. He carried me to my bed, his stride swift and easy. After gently laying me down, he bent to kiss and explore my mouth. When his hands caressed my body, I realized I was completely bare. I didn’t remember getting undressed, but there we were, both naked. His strong body was on top of me now, his lean muscles and hard torso pressing into my soft skin. Those magnificent lips were kissing my neck, and he was pressing closer and closer to me. I was opening up to him when…

  BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! I jumped out of the bed, stumbling over the large, circular rug on my way to the dresser. I hated that alarm clock. I slammed the off button and caught my reflection. My hair was wild. Sticking out all over the place and tangled in knots. Gasping, I grabbed my brush and hurried to the bed, not able to consider at how crazy I looked. The fierceness of my night reflected in my hair. The dream…I stopped brushing in mid tangle to contemplate the vision from last night. The most recent of many. These occurrences…they were making me feel as if I had awakened from a deep slumber. Suddenly my mind was sharp and body felt like a live wire.

  I studied my 5-foot, 5-inch frame. I was slim but beginning to get curves in all the right places. My breasts were getting perkier, my hips becoming rounder. Most seventeen year olds had more curves than me at this point, but my mother said I was a late bloomer in everything. Fantastic. That didn’t really make me feel better. My hair was long, down to my waist, and a deep shade of red. It fell in waves, like I had been to the beach every day. I had bright green eyes that looked like gemstones sparkling in the sunlight. Red hair and green eyes. Really spectacular combination, huh? I couldn’t have gotten a really fun eye color, like purple. I had to get green. I didn’t think I was anything special to look at. My mother and father always told me I was beautiful, but wasn’t that what parents are supposed to think? That their children were beautiful?

  I ran the brush through my thick hair again, shuffling on the bed until I was cross legged. For the last year and one month, I had been having dreams about this guy that I had never met. On my birthday, April first, it had been exactly a year since I had started having them. The night of my sixteenth birthday, the sleep visions had forever changed me. Did the two have a connection? I couldn’t help but feel it in the pit of my stomach that they were connected. I had started a journal that very morning, so I could remember everything.

  This young man was about nineteen if I had to guess. He was tall, about 6 feet, with jet black hair and big brown eyes that looked like dark honey. The locations varied. Sometimes we were in my room and sometimes a room that was dark and manly, with lots of books. Maybe it was his room. And occasionally we were places I wasn’t familiar with, such as outdoors or in an area I didn’t recognize. The actions also varied but one thing was always the same, he never spoke. I had read a million books on dreams, and I still couldn’t figure out why I saw the same guy every night.

  Something surprising happened along the way. I felt as if I’d almost fallen in love with my apparition. As crazy as it seemed, I had this odd feeling he was somehow real. I don’t know how he was real or that he in fact was, I just had a feeling. But back to the dreams, there was something about them that just felt…strange.

  The content wouldn’t have been so odd if it weren’t for the fact that I’m a virgin. Heck, I had only kissed one boy, and it was nothing like the kissing in these trysts. When I had kissed Brady, I hadn’t felt much. It was pleasurable but nothing like I’d imagined love would be. It was like seeing the movie you kind of wanted to see instead of the one you had been dying to see. Our lips met, but there were no sparks like I always imagined. I sighed and glanced at the clock, realizing I needed to get ready for school.

  Sighing, I walked to the closet, rummaging through my clothing. I decided on a cute black skirt with ankle boots, a white shirt, and a scarf the same color as my eyes. I looked decent. Fashion was something I always had been interested in. And once I had been able to pick out my own clothing, my outfits became more daring and unique. I knew some people didn’t appreciate my style, but I did and that’s really all that matters. I glanced at the clock as I heard my mother yell, “Olivia, it’s time to go!”

  Great, I was going to be late for school again if I didn’t hurry. I threw my books in my white and yellow backpack and grabbed a cherry pastry from the kitchen. I got to my mother’s black SUV just in time. She was seriously going to leave me one of these days. I had been begging my parents for my own vehicle for a year now, but they wouldn’t give in. Something about how I needed to figure it out on my own. If they would only help me, I wouldn’t have to rush every morning to make sure I didn’t walk to school in heels.

  “Heya, Momma! Sorrrrrrry. I couldn’t decide what to wear,” I said as I got in the car.

  I always felt bad being late, but it was difficult to wake up and get going in the mornings after these crazy nights. I couldn’t tell her about them. Not that I didn’t trust her, I did, and I knew she would be totally understanding. It was just kind of weird being consumed with someone I never met. She simply stared ahead, nodding at my apology. I had been upsetting her with my lateness lately. I’d have to change that.

  My mother wasn’t a very talkative person. She wasn’t one of those moms who would butt in at every corner. If I had a problem, she listened and gave advice. But only if I went to her first. Otherwise she observed from afar. While it was nice to a point
, it also made me wonder if she actually cared sometimes. My father was completely different. He never gave advice. He rarely noticed if something was wrong. When I was growing up, they had always been there for the important stuff. Like plays, award ceremonies, and games. As the years passed, it seemed like they became more and more secretive. I have an elder brother. He’s close to thirty years old, but I never see him. Kyle lived in another state and came to visit on holidays, but we had never been that close due to the large age difference.

  The homes that lined our street passed by slowly. My mind drifted to Mr. Sexy (what I call my dream man, in my head) as some ‘70s song played on the radio. I love oldies music, but ‘70s were a little too ancient for my taste. This man interfering with my thoughts…well, not quite a man, but older than me. I wish I knew where he came from. And why was I fantasizing about him? And why did it start on my birthday? The events had to be related. He was strong and sexy, but something about him was real. As crazy as it seemed, I felt it in my heart that this guy was destined to be important to me. Confusion took over my brain, as I tried to recall meeting him. I would remember meeting him, wouldn’t I?

  “Olivia, dear, are you listening? We’re almost to school,” my mother was saying as I snapped back to reality.

  “Oh, sorry, Mom. Just thinking about a test I have today.”

  I realized I couldn’t think about Mr. Sexy now. We were turning into the school parking lot. My mystery dream man would have to wait.

  Scott

  Oh, how I hated when she had to go to school. Or just wake up for that matter. Olivia Whitehead was the woman for me, and she had absolutely no idea who I was. She made my heart beat faster than a thousand running horses. But she didn’t know me. All she knew was I was the mystery man she loved to kiss in her dreams. I sighed as I looked out the window, watching a bird make a nest on the limb of a wide oak tree near my home. If only it was time for me to meet her in her waking hours. It just couldn’t occur yet. Too many bad things would happen if I found her before October 15, exactly six months after her seventeenth birthday.

  Ok, let me explain who I am. My name is Scott Tabors. I am a fifth generation sorcerer, which means I am special to my family. Each firstborn in a generation was born with a different power. But every five years, each family’s firstborn sorcerer accumulated all the powers from the previous five years. For instance, one of my great grandfathers, Philip from the first generation, had the power to dream walk. That’s how I went to see Olivia. When I relaxed my mind and body, my spirit would go to her. She couldn’t see me, but I could see her. My second generation grandfather, David, had the power to eavesdrop on any conversation. Whether it was in the same room or in another country, as long as he could connect with one party, he could do it. It was sort of like reading minds in my opinion. My third generation grandmother, Sylvia, had the power to connect with nature. She could control the weather in a way. She couldn’t make anything extreme happen, but she could conjure a storm if necessary. And finally, the grandmother I knew and loved had the power to heal. Naturally, as sorcerers, we had powers to move objects, cast simple spells, and such. But each generation had a sorcerer who specialized in certain powers.

  When I was ten years old, all of these powers hit me. I remembered it like it was yesterday. I got up on my birthday, and as I stood, I realized I could hear my mother talking. I knew she was at my grandmother’s house because she had told me she would be there the night before. But I could somehow hear her. Of course, I thought I was losing my mind and immediately ran to tell my father I needed a therapist. He drove me to my grandma’s house. As we pulled up, I saw Grandma waving her hand around making the flowers bloom…the flowers which had been dead. It was the point when I began wondering if maybe our family was special. They all sat around me at the old oak table in the kitchen, looking at me like I had won the lottery and explained who I was.

  Ten years later, I had complete control of my powers. And I’d found the woman I was destined to be with.

  She just didn’t know this yet.

  There was a curse on anyone who fell in love in my family. Apparently my first generation grandpa really pissed off another sorcerer, and since then we all had to pay. As sorcerers, we could sense the person we were supposed to be with the rest of our lives. Our heart mates, as we liked to call them. But because of this curse, we couldn’t let them fall in love with us “under any moon, two quarters before their legal birthday.” I found a loophole around this. Since I was fifth generation, I had a lot of tricks up my sleeves. I could still see Olivia but not break any rules. If the rule was broken, my love would die on her eighteenth birthday. So I have to be careful…very careful.

  Olivia

  “Liv. Liiiiiiiiiv. Liv….”

  I snapped my head up. I had been doodling and hadn’t heard a word my best friend had said. Juniper Parks was as unique as her first name. Standing just slightly shorter than I, Juniper had milk chocolaty skin and beautiful black curls that shaped around her face. Her hair wasn’t so short she couldn’t do anything with it, but not so long that she looked like the rest of our class. She had blue and light pink streaks dyed on each side. The girl generally wore some sort of headband and lined her big brown eyes in black or green. She loved music and always wore some sort of inverted quarter note on her clothing. Our mothers met when they put us both in the same dance class at age three. We had been equally horrible at it, but that only solidified our friendship. Juniper was talented and truly like a sister to me.

  “I’m sorry, J. I was just doodling and didn’t mean to ignore you,” I didn’t want to hurt my best friend.

  “It’s ok! I was asking if you wanted to have a sleepover this week? I need an ‘80s dance movie marathon!”

  Oh, how I loved my bestie.

  “I’ll ask my mom if we have anything going,” I said with a smile.

  The warning bell rang, and we gathered our trash from the table. Lunch was over, and that meant we only had English and history left for the day. I loved English but hated history. I just couldn’t figure out why we had to learn about what a bunch of dead guys did. I knew they helped shape the country and everything, but did we really have to know every date and record they did?

  I stood up and started to throw my leg over the bench when my arm crashed into something hard. Or maybe I should say someone. I looked into Aiden Cavalier’s eyes. His dark gray, deep, and stormy eyes. He was the star basketball and soccer player for the school. Heck, he even ran track. Yeah, he was that guy. He was one year ahead of me, a senior, and the object of every female underclassman’s affection. Except mine. I couldn’t stand him. He was cocky and annoying with his “better-than-everyone-else-because-I-can-play-sports” attitude.

  “Hey, Whitehead, what’s the rush?”

  I had an inkling he knew that I couldn’t stand him. Perhaps that’s why he talked to me so much. He was trying to win me over.

  “Some of us don’t get the privilege of being excused every time we’re late for class,” I said to him with a smile that was sweet but also said I can’t stand you.

  “Ouch. Jealous are you, Whitehead? You could get the same privileges, you know. I’ve watched you run track. You’re good. And you could hang with me…no one would bother with caring if you’re late.”

  Oh, my gosh. I wanted to slap him.

  “I actually don’t like being late for class, Cavalier. I like keeping my grades up and I want to get into a good college based on my brain, not my physical abilities.”

  I walked away and got as far as the cafeteria doors when I realized he was beside me. I rolled my eyes and kept walking. I wondered where in the world Juniper had run off to. She got up two seconds before me and escaped this awful interaction. The bell rang again, and I found my opportunity to lose Aiden. I sped up when students poured out of a classroom and ditched him in the crowded hall.

  I got to my locker just as J did.

  “Where were you? I needed backup!” I said, exasperated.

&n
bsp; “Sorry, sorry. I know you can’t stand--“ she nodded her head in Aiden’s direction--“but he’s adorable and I think you should give him a chance. I’m pretty sure he likes you, Liv.”

  Oh, brother. Was she serious? I got my English book and started walking to class. This was the only one J and I didn’t have together, so I would have to wait until history to scold her about the Aiden nonsense. Aiden Cavalier liked me? I didn’t think so.

  Scott

  I remembered the first time I saw Olivia. I had been in a coffee shop on 4th Street, drinking tea, when she walked by the window. I literally lost my breath and all thoughts except her. I had this feeling in my gut, a tingly sensation setting me on fire. I knew she was to be my heart mate for all eternity. How you ask? “She’s human, it’s not possible.” Oh, but it was. As sorcerers, we had a law that we absolutely could not do a spell to make a human stop aging. Unless….the human was yours. And there was a whole process the counsel had to go through to determine you if indeed linked with the human. Once they determined it, the spell was cast. Yes, we had a counsel. They were located in the deep mountains of Montana and you didn’t want to go there unless it was serious business. Our counsel wasn’t very tolerating of evil sorcerers, but they loved connecting heart mates.

  As sorcerers, we stopped aging at age 25. We looked 25 for a thousand years and then began to age at a very slow rate. My grandmother was at least 5000 and looked no more than 50. I was not sure on the exact number because she’s very sensitive about her age.

  I snapped back to reality as my grandmother came in the room.

  “Hey little one, is something troubling you?”

  She called me little one, even though I stood at least a foot taller.

  “No, Grandma, just thinking of the first time I saw Livvie. I wish I could see her in the waking hours…this dream stuff isn’t enough for me...” I said sadly.

  “Little one, you know that you have to wait, or she will die. This curse is evil and I wish we could change things,” she paused like there was something she wasn’t sure she should say. “There is a legend stating if you kill the descendent of the sorcerer who cast the curse, the curse is broken forever.”