The Sons of Satrina: A Sons of Satrina Novel

The Sons of Satrina

Kristan Belle

Copyright
© 2014 Kristan Belle

First published 2014 Createspace.

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, incidents and places are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living or deceased, events or loc
ales, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this digital publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, nor circulated in physical form without prior consent of the author

Acknowledgements.

I want to say a huge thank you to Heidi, Aurora, Steph, Jenny, Alba & Jill for their constant support and encouragement to chase my dream– you girls rock!!! 

And a huge thank you to Linzi for telling me her crazy dream one day – that dream is now warped beyond anything she could recognise and has somehow become the Sons of Satrina! Bet you never thought that this all started with a murderer wielding a spotted pink umbrella….

And, thank YOU, to the person reading this – you make this all worthwhile

Chapter One.

The hallways were packed with the echoes of heavy footsteps and loud jeers radiating from the new recruits.  The unruly rabble were now heading up to their newly appointed rooms.  It had been a very exhausting first day for them at the academy.

It had been a draining day of introductions to every aspect of the Sons of Satrina Academy of Combat Training.  After an initial meeting in the main hall where they were introduced to each and every member of staff that they would be coming into contact with during their time there, they had also been taken on an extensive tour of the building that was to be their home.

It had been information overload on a grand scale, that’s for sure.  In one day, they weren’t able to explore even half the place that they would be living in for the next few years. There were numerous nooks and crannies that were hi
dden in this cavernous place and they all knew that it would take more than their years of training to uncover them all.  Who knew what lurked in the corners of this ancient building? Anything was possible in a place like this.

Each and every one of the trainees were looking forward to starting their training schedules, due to start the very next day.  The excitement had been building through the day with every nugget of information they were given.  Spirits were high.  This was the day that they had all been waiting for.  Most of their lives had been working toward this time. The atmosphere surrounding the newbie’s was nearly at
party time level.

This was the start of the life that they had been born to lead. This was the time for them to finally become men. This was the day that they would finally begin to fulfil their destiny.

Kelton sat back in his large leather chair and put his hands behind his head.  Rolling his eyes in amusement at the noise coming from outside the office door, he turned to smirk at the female who was sat in the sexiest manner on the edge of his cluttered desk.  It was the same old thing each and every year.  Not that he could blame any of them in the slightest for the excitement they were feeling.  Starting here at the academy was a big deal and they all knew it.  This was their fate, and it was only just beginning.  Kelton could remember that feeling all too well.

Kelton could remember walking in here for the first time like it was yesterday.  The head of the Academy at the time had tried to rain on his parade, too, knocking him down a peg or two.  Remembering his own first day, Kelton grinned to himself.  He knew that he had to keep the tradition going.  After all, the newbie’s all came in here thinking that they were something special, that they were men.  Well, just like the leaders before him, he was here to show them all that they still had a very long way to go until he considered them anything more than mere boys.

“You would think that they were all coming here just for the fun of it.  Have you heard them?”

“Oh, give them a break.” the female said to him with a lazy smile.

“They need to know that this is serious business.”

She laughed gently.  “They can’t have any fun at all.”

“
No fun. Not for them, at least.” Kelton chuckled.

Kelton was a warrior through and through.  No matter how much she wanted to tame the beast, the warrior within him would always win out. It was a race for power that was within him that couldn’t be restrained. Right now, she had been hoping for a little time together to relax after such a hectic day.  The rush of training the newbie’s would take Kelton away from her soon enough and she wanted to relish every moment that they had together.  She was thinking maybe rattling this desk a little.  No such luck, though.  Kelton was too busy in his professor/warrior mode.

With a small smile to herself, she closed her eyes and rearranged her skirt into a more acceptable state.  Maybe later, she thought to herself with a wry internal grin.

Kelton pushed back his chair, the sound of the legs scrapping across the floor was like nails on a chalkboard. He strode across the short space to his office door, dodging piles of paperwork and books that were balanced precariously in heaps on the floor. 

Day one and he was already surrounded by disorganisation.

Yanking the door wide open, Kelton stepped out into the corridor.  He didn’t even need to open his mouth for a hush to descend over the crowd of young male bodies that were passing by.  His glare said it all.  Even the cockiest of young men knew better than to attempt to tangle face to face with Master Warrior Kelton.  His temper was legendary, as were his lethal fighting skills.  This was the very ma
n that they all aspired to be.

With six feet five of pure, solid muscle encased in leather, Kelton wasn’t someone that you chose to mess with if you valued your limbs.  Everything about him screamed violence and bloodshed.  He was b
adass personified.  With dirty blonde closely cropped hair and a five o’clock shadow spreading across his jaw line, he made for one hell of an intimidating sight.  All the better to freak the newbie’s out.

As he stepped back into his office, Kelton heard the whispers starting to rise again already;
“Did you see who that was?”, “Whoa! That was the closest I’ve ever been to him!”
and several rounds of
, “Do you think he’s teaching again this year?”

Each and every time a new set of students stepped through the doors of the academy, it was small things like this that made him glad to be who he was.  He was a warrior.  That was what he did, all he did.  It was who he was. His reputation preceded him.  He was everything that those guys in the hall hoped to be one day.

He was a fighter. A protector.  He was also the current head of the Academy.  Kelton was not someone that anyone could take lightly.  There were only a few people that ever saw the softer side to him.  He was a warrior. End of.

The female shook her head at him and pushed herself up off the desk.  She knew that there was no point in hanging around here when he wanted to get down to work.  As she moved to leave his office, Kelton grasped her around the waist and pulled her closer, kicking the door shut with his foot.  His lips brushed her neck, his breath playing with her hair.

Looking up into his deep, dark green eyes, she saw that familiar spark within.  A knowing grin spread across her face.               

“No fun?” s
he asked jokingly.

“As I said, not for them.  I said nothing about us, though…”

“Who the hell does
that guy think he is anyway?” scoffed Denver McKenna with a sneer as soon as they were out of ear shot of Kelton’s office. He may be cocky and stupid, but he wasn’t stupid enough to make that kind of inane comment when the man-mountain was around to hear him.

After only a single day at the Academy, Denver was already proving himself to be a total dumb shit who thought way too much of himself.  He was the type of guy that had clearly ruled the roost when he was back at home and had clearly given growing up a miss. The ass.

Denver was also infuriatingly vain.  At every reflective surface, he paid homage to his appearance.  To give him his dues, he was the epitome of wholesome handsomeness.  However, good looks alone wouldn’t get him very far at the Academy.  Out in the normal world, he could have easily climbed the ladder to success off his looks alone, but here? He would have to grow a pair and man up. It took much more substance to become a successful warrior.  After all, he couldn’t fight the enemy with only his expertly flashed hair, flawless skin and square jaw.  To get on and survive in the world of the warrior, you needed to possess brains as well as brawn.  The jury was still out on whether Denver would make it.

“He’s the best goddamn warrior
that this race has ever seen!” someone at the back of the group chimed in, amazed at Denver’s display of stupidity.

“Yeah, well.  I bet I could take him on.” Denver said as he puffed out his chest some more.  “He doesn’t look that tough to me.”

Poor Denver.  In his mind, he really thought that he was the toughest, smartest, best looking guy ever to grace the planet.  As of yet, nobody had managed to convince him otherwise.

The Academy expected the best of everyone.  Co-operation and team work were the key.  Denver wasn’t exactly coming across as much of a team player, which was something that could put the others’ lives in jeopardy. If he wasn’t careful and didn’t mend his ways, then someone would have to kick the stubborn streak out of him.
There was no room for selfishness in this war.

The other guys already knew that there was no point in saying anything to him, though.  They knew that their words would fall on deaf ears.  Clearly, he was happy living him his own little deluded world.  For
now, they would just let him stroll off down the corridor, thinking that he was cock of the walk.  There would be plenty of time to see him falling flat on his face in the weeks to come.

The Academy itself wasn’t like anything you would ever see in the movies or imagine in a book. There were no candles in the rusty old brass sconces on the walls in the corridor that they walked down. No stone hallways shrouded in shadows
, and not a single creepy gargoyle in sight.  You sure as hell wouldn’t catch Dracula dead in a place like this. Even though the building and its reaching corridors had been on this site for centuries, the Academy itself was at the height of the modern age. Light and airy and not the kind of place you’d think held the toughest men in the world.

The location of the Academy was on the outskirts of the city of Brandestowen.  They had to try their best to blend in with society and remain inconspicuous. Their lives were still hidden from human eyes and they did not intend for that to change for the foreseeable future.

The building itself was plain fronted. The only sign of life was a promotional sign for a martial arts studio, accompanied by a dud phone number.  No one in the surrounding area had ever been any the wiser that such a normal looking business was the public fascia for a deceptively large Academy, training vampire warriors.

Everything about the interior of the place screamed minimalist
and efficient.  It was stylish, but above all, functional.  All surfaces were painted in mute shades of ivory and antique cream, which accentuated the clean lines and efficiency of the Academy.

Throughout the orientation day, the new recruits had been shown the areas that they would frequent most often.  Such as the extensive library and computer facilities, which included an amazing-beyond-anything games room that was right out of their wildest dreams.  Every games console you could think of was in there. Naturally, mos
t of the guys creamed over it. It was gaming Nerd Heaven.

And if the technological side of things didn’t catch their attention, then the gym and the training areas sure did.  There was everything that an aspiring warrior could wish for and so much more; Katana swords, throwing stars, nunchuka, hook swords, chains, daggers, stakes and spears.  Not to mention the gun lock up.  As well as several sparring rings and punch bags, there was a state of the art gym that was out of this world.  The training area took up most of the lower level of the Academy, which made sense, seeing as this was where they would be spending most of their time.

Naturally, Denver had been in his element down there.  He spent his time strutting around, telling everyone how to use each of the weapons, even though it was clear to all of them that he’d never seen half of them before.  The boy
sure liked to talk bullshit.

The Sons of Satrina tried to train its recruits in the art of traditional elimination methods, such as death by stake or decapitation, but even they had to roll with the times.  Guns and the suchlike were a lot less gory and messy and on the whole, a lot easier.  Have you ever tried staking someone? It ain’t easy, that’s for sure.  First of all you have to get your aim spot on to hit the heart.  Then, you’ve got to fight your way through the breastbone, muscle and a whole assortment of other barriers before you even get to the target. Sometimes, it wasn’t worth the time or the hassle.  A swift bullet to the head or the heart was just as
effective. Especially in this day and age of the human world being on the go twenty-four/seven.  Walking around with an axe slung over your shoulder can attract attention…

Jackson Thormond for one had had more than enough of hearing Den
ver’s droning voice for one day. Everything about the Academy had been more than he could have ever hoped for, but the constant commentary from mouth almighty Denver was a little more than he could bear.

“I’ll catch up with you guys later.” Jackson said, quietly.

“You can’t leave us with
him
.” one of the guys mouthed to him, pointing over to Denver.

Jackson laughed.  There was no way on this earth that he was going to spend another minute in Denver’s company than was necessary.  The guy could talk the hind legs off a donkey with his mindless, inane chatter.

With a few friendly fist bumps and shoulder jabs to some of the other guys, Jackson slipped off to his newly appointed room.  He was one of the lucky ones.  He’d managed to bag himself one of the much sought after single rooms.  Jackson appreciated his own company and he needed his own space.  Bunking up with another guy for the next four years? No, thank you very much.