Ethan Storm’s Dark Awakening novel Chapter 19

The moment Ethan stepped outside with Alice cradled in his arms, a shadow moved near the stairwell.

“Stop—wait!” a voice rasped.

Ethan pivoted on instinct, shielding Alice behind him with one arm and drawing his weapon with the other. A young man stumbled into view, his face pale, body bruised and bloodied, barely standing on his own two feet.

Ethan narrowed his eyes. “Who the hell are you?”

The young man raised both trembling hands. “I’m not your enemy. Please… did you… did you kill them? All of them?”

“Yeah,” Ethan said flatly, his tone icy. “Including Martin. And of course I welcome anyone who wants to avenge that scumbag.”

The words struck like thunder. The young man’s knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground, trembling violently. Then—unexpectedly—he burst into tears, covering his face with his bruised hands.

“I have to see it. I have to see for myself!”

Ethan frowned as the man bolted past him and into the house. Seconds later, guttural screams echoed from inside—anguished, but not mournful. Then hurried footsteps came thudding back down the steps.

The young man skidded to a stop in front of Ethan, dropped to his knees, and bowed deeply.

“Thank you,” he choked. “Thank you for killing that monster.”

Ethan’s grip on Alice tightened slightly as he studied the stranger. “Who are you?”

The man looked up, face streaked with tears, but his eyes shone with raw sincerity.

“My name is Devon… I’m Martin’s son.”

Ethan’s brows arched slightly in surprise, but his expression didn’t soften. “You don’t look like someone he’d acknowledge.”

“I’m not,” Devon whispered. “He never let me exist in the light. I was born after, while drunk, he raped one of the maids—my mother. He beat her to death a year after I was born. Since then, I’ve lived in the stairwell, like a rat. Carl… he used to piss on my food. I was nothing to them. Nothing.”

“You’re his son,” Ethan said. “They won’t like it, but they can’t deny it. With the right help, you’ll be in control within weeks.”

Devon sat back on his heels, processing. Then his jaw clenched with sudden resolve.

“I’ll do it. I’ll take it all from him. I swear it. For my mother.”

Ethan nodded, satisfied. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a slip of paper. “This is a number. Her name’s Elsa. She’ll make the arrangements. Do exactly what she says.”

Devon took it with trembling fingers. “I will. Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Ethan muttered, glancing toward Alice, whose head had slumped weakly against his shoulder. “Just don’t screw it up.”

Devon’s eyes welled again, but this time with gratitude. “I swear on my life—I won’t.”

Ethan gave a short nod, patted the boy’s shoulder, and turned without another word. He carried Alice to the car, carefully laying her down in the passenger seat. As he slid into the driver’s side and started the engine, he caught one last glance of Devon in the rearview mirror—still kneeling on the steps, clutching the slip of paper to his chest like it was gold.