by Amber Oliver

Created on: May 17, 2008   Last Updated: May 04, 2009

The Devil's Relatives

Her Son

Prologue

The man stood in the hospital, looking down at the baby girl through the glass window. She wasn't his daughter but he thought her the most glorious little charm imaginable. His black eyes glistened dangerously as he watched the nurse clean her and stretch her roughly.

"Adrian, your father requests your audience immediately," a small raven said as it appeared from nowhere on his shoulder.

It looked at the man with ebony hair and abyss black eyes and jumped off his shoulder to land on the smooth ledge of the window.

Adrian caught a glimpse of the baby's wrist and grimaced. Shylah, Celtic for loyal to god'. He sighed as he thought of who her parents were. Of how her father was the reverend of their church and her mother the lead singer in their choir.

"Adrian?" the sleek black raven inquired.

"I'll deal with the devil in a moment," he answered as he continued to watch the cruel woman.

His father's preferred name was Dante but Adrian preferred to look at things as they were. So he could only say things that were true. He looked at the nurse as she finished and walked to the nurses station. He phased through the window and into the room that held his soul mate. He stood in front of the small bed that held the petite little girl.

She opened her eyes to look at him and he smiled. Instead of the blue eyes that babies had for a while the girl had black eyes shot through with silver.

"I'll see you in a little while Shyla," Adrian said, using a Hindi name similar to her given name, meaning goddess'.

Adrian turned back to the raven, waving a hand at the cruel nurse, who immediately slipped and fell into a syringe tray, instantly dieing. He made an invisible bubble around the baby so as the noise wouldn't disturb her, completely oblivious to the baby boy next to her.

Chapter 1

"I'll be back in a little while dad," Shylah said as she pulled on her black trench coat.

"Have fun darling," the reverend told his twenty-year-old daughter.

Boy it's going to be fun, she thought without enthusiasm as she climbed onto her motorcycle, to drive out to different houses and apartments.

She undid her kickstand and rolled it out onto the street. She turned it on and fastened her helmet for her father's watching eyes. She was going to search for a house as far away from her parents as possible. She couldn't stand the way that they ran their house. They only let her do anything after giving a long lecture.

Shylah turned the gas and sped away from the house, her trench

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