Published by Laura Kreitzer at Smashwords
SHADOW OF THE SUN
TIMELESS SERIES
book one
LAURA KREITZER
Revolution Publishing Inc.
SHADOW OF THE SUN
Copyright © 2010 by Laura Kreitzer
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Revolution Publishing Inc.’s books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:
Revolution Publishing Inc.
http://revolutionpublish.com
marketing@revolutionpublish.com
Because of the dynamic nature of the internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
Shadow of the Sun (Timeless, #1)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2010942820
Front cover artwork by Igor Šćekić
ISBN: 9780982903353 (sc)
ISBN: 9781450211758 (dj)
ISBN: 9781937790998 (ebook)
PRAISE FOR THE TIMELESS SERIES
“Laura Kreitzer has created a world rich with history and intrigue. Just when you think you have figured it out, she throws you for another loop and you are no longer operating in the same reality you thought existed for the story. This is an intriguing start to what promises to be a captivating book series.”
– Fictionista Workshop
“The angels in this story were exceptional. These characters were a breath of fresh air because they were so different and spectacular to experience. The chemistry between Gabriella and Andrew was intense and definitely is a romance to remember.”
– Open Book Society on Shadow of the Sun
“I was counting the pages to the end, not because it was boring, but because I wanted to know how it ended and what plot twist Laura Kreitzer was planning. Her characters are strong and know what they want and how to get to it. That determination is great. It makes the characters come alive, it made them feel. This isn’t like the other supernatural books out there. I thoroughly enjoyed this book from page one.”
- The Guide to Good Books
“As someone who loves character studies and values connecting with characters in a story – sometimes more than the plot itself, the way Laura Kreitzer develops her characters was stunning. The friendship between Joseph and Gabriella is phenomenal – it’s humourous, it’s loving, loyal and intimate – but they have a very defined line that they don’t cross, and they both respect each other.” – Open Book Society on Soul Stalker
“Laura Kreitzer has a special gift. She not only creates characters you’ll fall in love with, she weaves a wonderful tale full of suspense, romance and beautiful description.” – Lisa Sanchez, Author of Eve of Samhain
ALSO BY LAURA KREITZER
TIMELESS SERIES
SHADOW OF THE SUN
SOUL STALKER
ABYSS
FALLEN LEGION
(2012)
HALOW OF THE SUN
(2013)
SUMMER CHRONICLES
PHANTOM UNIVERSE
FORSAKEN HARBOR
(February 2012)
BURNING FALLS
(2012)
SILENT FOREST
(2013)
This is for you, Mom and Dad.
Thank you for believing in me.
SHADOW OF THE SUN
An angel can illume the thought and mind of
man by strengthening the power of vision, and by
bringing within his reach some truth which
the angel himself contemplates.
St Thomas Aquinas
PROLOGUE
It’s too late. The reality of those words echoed in my head. I knelt beside the angel. There was no puddle of golden blood, no marks—just a lifeless body. In that moment I realized I’d never be able to speak to my beloved angel again.
The ground shook beneath us as a dark shadow loomed overhead. My protector tensed for action as the Earth rumbled again.
“It’s him,” I whimpered. “Aiden. Just like he promised.”
This was my fault. If the angels were killed, I would die too. Surely there were no other Guardians left for me. This would be the end. Darkness closed in on the edges where only the headlights of the limo illuminated the vicinity. Fire sprang up and ringed around us, and the rain seemed only to intensify the raging flames that licked at the air.
“Only one Guardian?” a vicious voice said mirthfully. “It’s so easy to pick you off one by one.”
The encompassing fire crackled and flickered into an ominous red as a shape appeared before us. Fire shot from the palm of the dark creature. My Guardian ducked, and the fireball hit a branch above us. The branch clattered down, and then, as a new darkness consumed me, I knew I was finished.
CHAPTER 1: TOP SECRET
“Ella? Hello?” A hand waved furiously in front of my face. “Ella? Are you in there?” The annoying wasp lowered her voice to a whisper. “I always thought you got here by sleeping.”
Just another one of Sally’s nasty innuendos she’d mutter under her breath barely loud enough to hear. I stared at my aggravating redhead assistant through narrowed eyes. Her hand continued to flap in front of me.
I inhaled deeply. “Sally, would you stop that?” My voice was like ice. “I haven’t even had my coffee yet. And don’t call me Ella. It’s Gabriella. And really, you should call me Doctor Moretti.”
She glared at me as she pointed to the coffee mug on my wood desk, ignoring my name tirade.
“Oh,” I answered, feeling idiotic.
My eyes shot to the missing coaster. I reached over my desk to place one underneath the mug, which was misshapen and had a picture of a rainbow painted on it. My niece, Jules, who loved to draw me pictures and sculpt pottery, made it. She was five and very sweet. My sister, Jenna, had brought her over to visit the other day. I missed them both. We never saw enough of each other.
I blew gently over the surface of the liquid, and it rippled under my breath. I took a sip. Room temperature. I gulped it down as my assistant stared at me in anticipation, a smug look eclipsing her features.
“It’s cold,” I said irritably. This wasn’t the day for her to pull her usual crap. It wouldn’t surprise me if she didn’t put it in the fridge before bringing it to me.
“Well,” she said, straightening her back importantly, “you’ve been daydreaming at your desk for over an hour.”
It was obvious by the expression on her face that she was unquestionably envious of my job, but some days I would gladly give my position to someone else. My occupation could be stressful, and the long nights were overwhelmingly exhaustive. Not many people understood my profession, and I didn’t expect anything less. Even my assistant was oblivious to the secrets below me—the secrets that weighed heavily on my shoulders.
“I wasn’t daydreaming,” I insisted, staring at her shirt, which was an eye-watering color of green. Absently, I continued speaking. “I was thinking about my new discovery—” I cut myself off, realizing I had almost told a very top-secret piece of information to someone with much lower security clearance than myself. I desperately needed sleep; my brain just wasn’t functioning under all this stress.
“New discovery?” Sally placed her round bottom on my very expensive desk and eagerly leaned in.
Great. Now she’ll never let it go, I thought bitterly. “It’s just something I was working on in the lab.” I fluttered my hand as if it was nothing. But it was. Boy was it something—something amazing and frightening.
She continued to look at me expectantly. The soft white light behind her head made every single tiny red hair stick out and cast the rest of her features into shadow.
“You know? Top secret experiments?” I whispered with a quizzical half smile, just to goad her a bit. I knew it was wrong, but it was so easy to get her riled up.
She grimaced. As always, Sally hated it when I brought up the fact she wasn’t allowed in the lab. Sometimes I saw her staring longingly at the “Restricted Access” sign on the door to the underground labs. But she wasn’t hired to do scientific work; she was hired to assist me in other ways. Some days she just couldn’t grasp that concept, and I had to remind her. Like today, for example.
“Will you take this to the post office?” I pushed a blue and white custody-sealed cooler her direction. The nearest post office was a fifteen minute drive and wouldn’t be open for a while. I knew this errand would keep her occupied for a bit while I took time to absorb the night’s events. “This needs to be in New York City by tomorrow morning.” There it was—the reminder of what her job was.
Sally dropped down from her perch on my desk with narrowed eyes and seized the cooler furiously. Without another word, she turned on her black high heels and spun so fast I thought she would turn all the way around.
I decided to press her a little. It was only fair; she did it to me every day with dirty comments whispered under her breath. “And could you pick up my dry cleaning? Same place.”
She froze mid-stride and turned around more slowly this time. “Again?” she grumbled through gritted teeth. “Can’t you pick up your own dry cleaning?”
Here comes the explosion. . . .
I plastered a huge grin on my face, ready to put her in her place. I wasn’t a mean person, honestly. I’d just lost all of my patience because I was up all night dealing with things I couldn’t fathom telling someone as small-minded as Sally.
Keeping the mocking smirk in place, I said, “Sally, you were hired as my assistant. If I need you to flush my toilet, you’ll flush it. But since I’m not a horrible monster, I’m not going to give you the shitty jobs.” I laughed at my own wordage. Oh, the hilarity. I seriously needed sleep. “If you can’t handle running one simple errand, then I’ll hire someone who can,” I added. “Is that clear?”
She nodded, her eyes reduced to slits. “That won’t be necessary, Doctor Moretti.” Her voice grew sardonic. “I’ll pick up your dry cleaning.”
Some people never learned, but you took what you could get, right?
“Thank you,” I said sweetly and waved her away. She shut the door firmly behind her.
Good riddance. I sighed, folded my arms on top of the desk, and lay my head down to relax. At the young age of twenty-four, I was lucky to have such a lavish office. This was also the same reason Sally seemed to take offense to me. The walls were a pleasantly rich crimson and decorated with black-and-white framed photos of some of my favorite destinations. My eyes caught sight of a beautiful snow-capped mountain I’d captured on my last ski trip. I was an excellent skier and would’ve loved to be on the slopes right then.
The light-blue tint of a new day came through the window behind my desk. The sliver of sun was bright enough that its reflection off the glass from a framed photo of my sister and me hit my eyes and burned. I closed my eyes and put my forehead against the desk while yawning loudly—just another reminder that I desperately needed sleep. I was sick of these all-nighters at the lab. The only reason I wasn’t passed out was because last night I discovered something so incredibly ground breaking I was positive the government would try to cover it up.
My occupational title: Supernatural Specialist. Whenever I discovered something it was never ordinary, and the government was always interested. I performed experiments and conducted research on things no one believes are real, like aliens and ghosts. And mostly, they’re not. But last night was my biggest revelation to date, and I wouldn’t be surprised if at any moment men in military uniforms converged upon me.
Zelko Corporation, my employer, had many different laboratories for diverse kinds of scientific work. The lab I worked in—also nicknamed “Fishbowl”—has been involved with research on supernatural beings for several years. A group of private investors kept the lab running, but the largest investor was the U.S. government. They always wanted to be the first to know about anything new we uncovered, mainly so they could cover any evidence right back up. Especially if they thought it would scare the American public. God forbid. Excuse the sarcasm. What I discovered last night definitely would. Hell, it almost scared the pee right out of me, and I wasn’t one to frighten easily.
I had made several small discoveries in the past, but nothing of great interest. So far, the only major finding was a few corpses—or skeletons, really—with large fangs. Of course, the FBI came in, snagged up all the scientific documents on the case, and had them shipped to who knows where. Whether vampires existed or not was still a mystery to me, but probably not. Some people just have extra-long teeth that appear to look like fangs. Plus, weren’t vampires supposed to be immortal and vaporize in the sun? But I was the skeptic here—never the one to truly believe until there was undeniable evidence to back up the claims.
I always thought the kinds of experiments our investors wanted us to perform were ludicrous. I’d investigated everything from a man covered in mostly scales to a “werewolf,” who was actually just a really—and I mean really—hairy man. Everything seemed silly, honestly . . . until last night.
Three corpses found in the mountains of Italy were shipped to Zelko Corp., and there seemed to be nothing unusual about the delivery until I opened the boxes and was confronted with bodies that hadn’t decomposed. At all. Their skin was flushed with blood, though none had a pulse and their disintegrating clothes were hundreds of years old. I checked the paper work and realized there was a colossal problem. Then I called my colleague in Italy, hoping for answers.
“Hello?” Adriana answered in a thick Italian accent.
“Hello, Adriana. It’s Dr. Moretti.”
“Gabriella, it’s so good to hear from you. What can I do for you?”
I grew hesitant. “Um, yes. Were you the one who shipped us three bodies with paper work?”
“Yes. Did everything arrive there okay?”
“Well, I’m not sure,” I said cautiously, trying to think of how to word our predicament. Well, my predicament. “According to your paper work, your laboratory dated the bodies back to 100 B.C., but these bodies are so fresh you’d think they died only minutes ago.” My eyes shifted to the first opened box. The skin on the body seemed to glow.
There was a long calculating silence on the other end. I waited, very impatiently. “Stefan?” Adriana yelled to someone on the other end. The rest of their conversation was muffled Italian. “Gabriella? Are you still there?” she asked after a minute.
“I am. Is something wrong?” I started to panic. Three fresh corpses that most definitely had not been dead for over two thousand years were in my lab. Was I losing my mind?
“Are you near a computer?” Her voice quavered and only made my nervousness rocket.
“Yes,” I answered wearily.
Again, a long silence. “I’m sending you pictures of the bodies we sent you. These were taken only four days ago.”
A few clicks with the mouse later, I opened up the attached file to see the pictures of three bodies that were decayed, leathery, and absolutely, undoubtedly dead. I gasped in complete shock. Since I was only ten feet from the bodies, the blood drained from my face. The phone dropped from my hand as I stepped back, tripped, grabbed the nearby table, and knocked instruments over to meet me on the floor with a resounding crash.
The light on the phone was still on. I seized it and scooted across the floor as fast as I could. I couldn’t get away from the bodies quick enough.
Adriana shouted on the other end. “Gabriella? Are you all right? Gabriella? Hello? What’s going on?”
“Adriana.” The shaky whisper left my lips in fear the bodies might hear me. It was stupid; they were dead after all. Weren’t they? “I’m going to have to call you back.” I hung up, not waiting for a response.
After I gained back a semblance of my composure, I grabbed the edge of the table beside me and lifted myself to my feet. I moved so quietly and slowly I probably could have popped over the edge of one of the boxes and scared the corpse back to life. I peered over the top of the first box to see that the body hadn’t changed at all since I had made my phone call. Surprisingly, I was somewhat relieved. I had thought by now they would certainly be alive. That gave me pause. What if they did come back to life? My heart jumped wildly in my chest at the image.
After a few more seconds to take deep, steadying breaths, I pulled my latex gloves on and turned to take a sample from the first body. I cut a small piece of his skin and placed it in a tiny vial. Carefully, I put it in a rack for later testing. I turned around to take another sample and screamed in bewilderment, my eyes growing wide.
Instantly, the door to my left flew open, and three lab technicians from another lab burst in, trying their best to look knightly, geeky glasses and all. It was difficult not to laugh at this show of chivalry. Considering the reason I had screamed it was probably best I didn’t start chuckling or people would think I had lost my mind. After what I thought I had just seen, maybe I had.
“Are you okay?” all three men asked in unison.
“I don’t know,” I whispered, stepping guardedly towards the box that held the corpse.
I approached the body with the three men shadowing me. Then I looked over to the vial on the counter. It was still there with the skin sample inside.
“He—” I paused to look back and forth between the body and the vial again. “His skin grew back,” I breathed.
Indeed I had gone directly from scientist to straightjacket. The three men looked at me like I had just grown a second head.
“Oh, just hand me a vial,” I barked irritably. Three vials appeared in front of my eyes. “Thanks.” I grabbed one without looking to see who I took it from. As I bent over the body to take another sample, the three men followed my movements, all of them watching with nothing but questions in their eyes.
“Watch carefully,” I whispered. I was afraid I’d wake the dead man, especially after what I had seen.
My heart thudded as I leaned in. Using my scalpel precisely, I cut a small piece of flesh from the body and placed it in the vial. Then we waited. After only a few seconds, one of the men beside me yelped, and the other two visibly gulped. The skin on the man’s arm started to heal. It stitched itself back together until we couldn’t tell I’d made a cut. Any second now I expected the fingers to twitch or for the corpse to become animated and sit up.
All four of us took an involuntary step backwards. The only noise in the room was the heater turning on. The three men’s expressions were lined with horror. I bet they regretted the knight role now.
“Seal the Fishbowl until the Director comes in,” I ordered, keen to vacate the scene. “Now.”
The three men stumbled over each other as they tried to reach the exit. Backing away, I left through another door. Within seconds the room was sealed from the outside world. There was only glass between the bodies and me, but it made me feel safe instantly.
Yes, last night had been quite . . . remarkable. My eyes opened, the memory still fresh. Dawn had broke over the sky, the colors mixing together pleasantly—pearly pink and misty gold through my window. Sighing at the memory, a dreadful blast of realization hit: I’d have to go back into the lab. The thought sent a wave of terrified excitement through me.
CHAPTER 2: DARKNESS
Even though the coffee was cold, I continued to drink it while staring into oblivion. The events of last night swam in my head, and I was nervous about going back down to the lab. Would those dead bodies still be dead? Or would there be three humans—supernatural beings?—standing in there waiting for me?
The door to my office flew open and slammed against the wall, causing one of my photos to rotate sideways. Sally backed in with my dry cleaning and a large box in her hands. As she struggled to bring it all to my desk, I sprang forward to relieve her of her burden. I wasn’t a complete jerk, contrary to Sally’s belief. She hung my clothes in the closet as I set the box on my desk.
“Thank you,” I said dismissively.
“Yeah, no problem,” Sally answered bitterly, smacking her lips in an irritating fashion.
“Dr. Moretti,” I corrected for her benefit. What could I say? I was in a vindictive mood, and she was begging me to play this game with her. Unfortunately for her, I always win.
“No problem, Dr. Moretti,” she growled, then slammed the door behind her. She must have fumed the whole way to the post office. I smiled at the thought.
Forgetting the box, I locked my office door and went straight for the clean clothes. I grabbed the first business suit in sight and headed toward my bathroom. Because of the many nights I ended up staying here to perform research, the director was kind enough to have a shower unit installed at the office. It was either that or they moved the lab to my house, which was not an option as far as I was concerned. Luckily for me, there weren’t many other people willing to do this job; of those that were, few had the credentials or the patience to study both cellular and molecular physiology and biomedical sciences. Ergo, a bathroom. I earned it, simple as that.
The hot water ran down my back, which helped to calm my hyperactive nerves. It was difficult to be completely terrified about what was downstairs in the lab. The only motivation behind applying for this post was the prospect of discovering something not of this world, or even better, something so ancient and mystifying my life would find some definitive significance. My sister Jenna had thought I was absolutely nuts.
“This isn’t about your parents, is it?” Jenna asked me.
“Of course not.”
“Well, I would understand more if it were. The mysterious circumstances of your appearance were strange enough.”
I sighed and ignored her talk of my biological parents who had abandoned me and never came back to claim me. “My parents are the same as yours,” I told her flatly.
“I know. Our relationship goes beyond blood.” She hugged me, and I hated the fact she felt the need to reassure me. Her past wasn’t any better. “I was just happy to have a sister when they adopted you,” she admitted.
I knew she loved me, and I loved her too. She was right: our relationship went far beyond any type of blood link.
I was five when my adoptive parents first came across me. My memory was gone, and they never really told me the circumstances or what had happened. They said it was probably best I didn’t remember. Many psychologists claimed it could have been something so tragic my subconscious refused to remember it. Retrograde Amnesia was what they called it. I had made peace with my diagnosis, but I still wanted an explanation as to why my parents abandoned me. Was I really so terrible?
“That place doesn’t hold the answers,” Jenna had said to me one day after she caught me trying to find out about my past through Zelko Corp’s wealth of knowledge. “You’re just going to drive yourself mad.”
We had agreed to disagree, but now I was beginning to wonder if I really was going mad. I didn’t believe in things that went bump in the night, but I wanted to. That was why I had taken the job at Zelko Corp. They offered me something other companies couldn’t: the opportunity to find the supernatural and get paid doing it. There have been weird and unexplained things I’ve come across, but nothing yet that really changed my world. Nonetheless, I never, ever, thought I would come across something as paranormal as this.
My whole body felt extremely shaky as I grabbed the soap off the dish and lathered up. As I washed, a strange feeling wrapped itself around me like a vine and sent something peculiar through my throbbing veins. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I wanted to unseal the room below and visit the undying creatures, which was a strange sensation considering how frightened I’d been only hours before. Were the creatures really undying, though? Or was there some scientific explanation for the whole incident? I needed to pull it together. It was paramount I forget these deviant desires that gradually leaked into my brain.
Rotating the water tap off, the sensation came back with a vengeance and intensified the escalating compulsion to descend to the Fishbowl and discover what secrets the wooden boxes concealed. What was wrong with me? My body craved to unearth the treasure hidden below. That was what this discovery amounted to: a pile of knowledge so rich it made my head swim with the possible scientific findings. I just needed to breathe. Calm down. Resist the urge.
What would Jenna say now?
Wiping fog from the mirror, I looked at the wet tangled mess on my head. Though my family praised me for my locks, I never understood their love for my loose, brown, natural curls. They were nothing but a pain. Couldn’t my hair make up its mind to be straight or curly? Honestly, this should have been the least of my worries all things considered.
I dressed and dried my hair. As I brushed my hair, a soft, rhythmic noise came from my office, like paper being printed from my computer. In the mirror, my sea-green eyes dilated in alarm. Why did the sound seem so sinister? My heart made a plunge-dive through my chest as an odd creeping sensation found its way to the pit of my stomach. Another noise. Panic shot through me. In my head, I was replaying the scene where I had purposefully locked my office door. Maybe it was my imagination? Why did I feel like I was in some awful horror movie?
Hastily, I dressed and dashed across the black and white tiled floor. I put my ear against the door like it was a large telephone receiver. Silence greeted me.
I held my breath and tried to slow my speeding heart as I cautiously pulled the door open, turning the handle at a measured pace so it wouldn’t make a single sound. I glanced through the minuscule gap. The office was vacant. I breathed a deep sigh of relief before I pushed the door fully open.
I inspected my desk to find that nothing was displaced or tampered with, and the printer tray was empty. Even though things appeared to be orderly, my gut screamed for me to leave. To advance down the stairs to the figures in the three wooden boxes. I was annoyed at this excessive longing, but no matter what every second that elapsed compelled me seek out the bodies.
I first ascertained that the door was still locked, just to be sure. My tense posture deflated at this discovery. So I had been alone. When had I become so paranoid? My imagination was playing barbaric tricks on me. For a moment I had to remind myself why I chose to work here.
Circling around, my gaze landed on the box Sally had placed on my desk. The top was shredded. I stopped dead. My breath caught in my throat as I inched closer, eyes darting wildly around the office. Maybe it just hadn’t been securely fastened in the first place?
Who are you trying to convince?
It didn’t look as though someone had cut the tape; it was as if someone had punched a hole through it or something had exploded from the inside. I grabbed the box cutter off my desk, to use either as a tool to open the box further or as a weapon in case of an intruder . . . or possibly something else. The paranoia was becoming familiar. Unusual for a supernatural specialist, but this seemed to be an excellent day for lines to blur between reality and fantasy. Everything I had ever known was being thrown into doubt and uncertainty.
Isn’t this what you wanted? Divine intervention?
As the goose bumps rose on my skin, my body disagreed with my thoughts.
My trembling hand reached out to sever the rest of the tape. A strange feeling of foreboding hit suddenly, and a wave of piercing cold broke over me. After flipping the cardboard flaps away, my gaze dove deep into the depths of the box. There was a small, ancient-looking chest inside. The lid was askew, fractured, and torn off its hinges. I speculated briefly. Was this how it was received, or did something happen to it while I was in the shower?
The room grew perceptibly darker. Before I had the opportunity to look up at the lights, I was slammed against the ground. My head smacked against the floor, and the box cutter slid several feet away. Then it was dark.
Now I didn’t feel so dumb for being paranoid.
I stared through the haze of pain from my head. The lamplight in my office barely penetrated through the black force surrounding me. Besides the darkness, a deep-red mixture of blood filled my vision. Whatever it was, the blackness, like a shadowy mist, gradually wrapped snugly around my body, warping and evolving as if it were a ghost. I tried to scream, but the shadow smothered my voice. My heart beat out a jagged rhythm as the blood pumped through my veins, burning like liquid fire.
A tall inky-colored creature emerged from the blackness, appearing momentarily unfocused before he set his eyes upon me. Everything was abruptly in startling clarity. His eyes were ablaze with fire and staring right into mine. I couldn’t look away, hypnotized. I’d take the bodies downstairs any day, I thought stupidly, realizing the situation was not going to have any sort of a happy ending.
“Don’t wake them,” the burning-eyed thing hissed, hostile and issuing a clear warning. I tried to recoil at the steely note in his tone, but he only held me tighter in the blackness.
My lips parted to speak, but no noise would surface. The creature bore down into my eyes with his. He made a movement with his hand, granting me my wish to speak.
“Who?” I asked, choked. My heart pounded so profoundly I was surprised it didn’t explode from my chest. Please let this be a nightmare.
“The angels,” he said matter-of-factly. His eyes flashed with a fiery heat as he leaned over me. His whole body looked chiseled from a large piece of charcoal. His hair was shaggy and black, though the only feature I seemed able to look at was his blazing eyes, like firestorms trying to escape his body.
“Angels?” I squeaked. My head spun as the darkness suffocated me. I choked on the air. The creature tightened his grip on me, though his hands never left his side. He controlled and manipulated the dark cloud.
“Bury them in the Earth where they belong.” His voice was smooth and calculating.
“The angels?” I repeated like an idiot. Maybe this was just a ghastly dream. Wake up, I shouted in my head. Wake up now!
No luck.
“Yes,” he said coldly, though the air in the room blazed with heat.
There was an explosion of sound, and I was swept up in windstorm. Papers flew off my desk and spun wildly around my head, the computer crashed to the ground, sparking, and chairs flipped over. My favorite black-and-white photographs crashed to the ground, and the glass shattered. The box that held the ancient artifact flew across the office, slammed into the wall, and landed with a thud on the floor. Everything twirled wildly around me, inducing vertigo.
As if being shaken from a dream, which I desperately hoped was the case, the door handle to my office jiggled. The darkness disappeared as quickly as it had come, leaving behind a trail of destruction. I fervently thanked all the gods known and unknown for that door handle jiggle.
Breathing heavily, my mind oscillated between each of the events that had just unfolded. To my great relief, and surprise, I was alive. Instantly I analyzed every word the creature had said. Don’t wake them . . . the angels. I lay my head against the side of my desk, exhausted. Of course you wouldn’t be resigned from the unsolvable mystery, I chided myself angrily. Seize the day or the revelation. You know, just grab it by the horns. How many hours does one person have to be awake before they go crazy? You’ve completely lost your mind, I decided.
“Gabriella?” The voice gave me a start of surprise. “Is everything all right?” It was the director, Darren. Concern was obvious in his tone. “I received your urgent message. Will you unlock the door?”
My mind whirled as I caught my breath.
Darren knocked on the door again. “Gabriella?” His voice heightened a little, his anxiety peaking.
I realized I hadn’t answered him yet. “Yes, I’m fine,” I said evasively as I pulled myself to my feet and walked over to unlock the door.
Darren was about six feet tall and roughly forty years old. We had worked together at Zelko Corp. for the last five years, and never once had I sent him an urgent message of any kind. His dark, apprehensive eyes looked over me, noticing my distress. He pulled his hand through his thick dark hair as his eyes roamed over my shoulder and into my office. Curiosity flashed across his face, and then I realized I was an idiot, which seemed to be the theme for the day. The room was torn apart, and now here was Darren to see the disaster. How was I going to explain this one?
Um, this creature came out of the box? Nope, that definitely wouldn’t go over well, unless I wanted to be hospitalized.
My heart had barely slowed, but started to pound like a drum through my chest again. When I glanced over my shoulder, ready to explain, my office was just how I had left it before taking a shower. Darren’s eyes had been focused upon the sealed box on my desk. Everything else was orderly. My papers were in their usual neat piles and folders, the photos on the wall were straight, the filing cabinets upright, and the computer screensaver that said “Zelko Corporation” still bounced from one side of the monitor to the other, as if the mouse had never been moved. Only moments before, I had seen that computer crash to the ground and short circuit.
My jaw hit the floor. I really was losing my mind.
CHAPTER 3: CELESTIAL BEING
We descended to the lower level in the small elevator. When we stepped off, fluorescent lights flared to life in the room outside the Fishbowl. The incandescence made me blink to reorient myself. My heart still thudded profusely as Darren advanced into the room. He was oblivious to my overwhelming anxiety.
Rows of computers lined the glass walls of the Fishbowl. A few monitors would mirror back the lab during major autopsies or experiments. I lingered outside the elevator door, undoubtedly terrified at what was behind the glass. The lab was cast in shadows, and the ominous dark called out to me. The push to go towards the lab was more powerful now that I was feet away from it, as if a physical force was shoving me in its direction. I fought it.
Darren noticed I hadn’t followed him and turned to give me an incredulous look. He held out his hand, a gesture I didn’t expect. I stared down at it.
“What’s gotten into you?” he asked and moved towards me, smiling, his hand still out stretched.
My mind was still reeling. Everything had gone from normal to bizarre. Hell, we left Saneville and went straight to Mystifying Villa. To say I was completely blown away by this extraordinary finding would be an understatement. But of all the people to come across something like this, I supposed it would be a supernatural specialist. However, it still wasn’t determined if this was a good or bad thing. My instincts continued to beg me to go towards the bodies in the darkened lab. My brain, however, was screaming a resounding “hell no.”
Darren took my hand when he realized I wasn’t going to move and pulled me into the overly bright room before letting go. The elevator doors shut behind me, and I jumped at the noise. Anxious, who me? Staring through the glass surrounding the sealed off lab, I prayed what had happened upstairs had just been my wild imagination and lack of sleep. Something deep inside me continued to repeat the dark creature’s words. Don’t wake them . . . the angels.
Weren’t angels good? God’s creations? What was so bad about that? I knew from personal experience not all of God’s creations were good. Still, from everything I had learned about angels and about the Bible—which was very little—weren’t angels supposed to be a celestial being?
No matter how prophetic the dark creature’s suggestion—or demand—had been, being near the “angels” seemed to make all my worries about the fire-blazing creature subside, and I suddenly felt safe from it. I imagined angels battling against the dark creature two thousand years ago, and I wondered what had happened or what they might have been fighting over.
Our reflections were crystal clear as we approached the glass. My mind must have been in another dimension because, during my contemplations, I hadn’t noticed Darren was speaking to me.
“Are these the bodies from Italy?”
He reached for my hand and squeezed it when he realized that I was somewhere else in my head. Somewhere far from there, more like 100 B.C., the time period the angel bodies were supposed to be from. He shot me a questioning smile, but my brain was still on another wavelength. It’s remarkable they were in as good a shape as they were in the pictures, I contemplated, but now they’re practically alive.
Even in the shadows of the lab, I could see their flushed skin. This made me even more anxious about unsealing the doors. My body continued to feel the pull towards the lab. It was stronger than ever—a stupid, excessive longing.
“Gabriella, are you okay?” Darren asked, concerned.
Surely my face was showing just how nervous this whole situation had made me. There was no hiding my feelings, at least not at this juncture.
I turned to him, nodding. “Yes. There’s something—” I didn’t know how to tell him about the bodies lying in the dark on the other side of the glass. Usually a visual demonstration would be the preferred way to explain a case, but this time I didn’t think we should enter the room—even though everything in my body screamed for me to slide my key card for access.
Darren eyed me eagerly, awaiting my continuance. An urgent message from me was the equivalent of a radio signal from an alien planet, telling him the Earth’s people had three days to vacate or be destroyed. So of course he was expectant to hear about my findings.
He finally gave up on any response when I moved towards the lab door. I didn’t enter. Instead, I flipped on the light switch next to the entrance. I decided the best avenue of attack would be to show him what lay behind the reflective glass. The glow of lights bore down on the angels (a much better way to think of them than “the bodies”) like spotlights. Darren reached out with his plastic key card to unlock the door.
“Don’t!” I screamed out. All the air vanished from my lungs as I launched myself towards him, diving through the air to stop him. My old baseball coach would have been proud of that save.
He retracted his hand, eyes wide and startled as my back slammed against the door, my body between Darren and the angels—protecting them.
Protecting them? What was I thinking?
My hand gripped the door handle with all my might. As soon as I touched the cold metal, electricity shot through me, a low current that was pleasant in every way. I almost collapsed at the rush of emotion as it spread through me. My breath caught in my throat as I slid slowly down the door.
“Wait,” I whispered.
What the hell just happened?
Darren bent down to me, an unreadable look on his face. “Dr. Moretti,” he began formally, “first I receive an urgent message in the middle of the night. When I arrive, you’re locked in your office, looking absolutely frantic. And now you won’t let me in the lab? What. Is. Going. On?” His tone was irritated as he distinctly pronounced each word.
With a great effort I rose to my feet, noticing Darren didn’t offer his hand. Was I overacting about everything I had seen last night? Was it all in my imagination? I peeked through the glass to see the angels in their wooden boxes. They looked alive, not dead. I blinked twice, trying to clear my eyes in case of some paranormal disturbance. Nothing had changed. I was starting to think like one of those people. You know, the ones who are convinced they’re being haunted because the central heater’s making a noise.
“Do you see those bodies?” My voice was high-pitched and somewhat hysterical. I pointed towards the glass, hoping I didn’t look like the lunatic I felt like.
He nodded impatiently; the Fishbowl was always full of the deceased. His eyebrows came so close together they formed one severe line. “I see them, Gabriella. Now explain. What about them?”
I turned to look through the glass, almost expecting one of them to rise from their holding box. “Don’t wake them,” echoed in my head.
“Well,” I said cautiously, my finger outlining them against the glass. “These bodies . . .” I trailed off, my mind wandering elsewhere as the pull towards them grew exponentially. I craved to be near them. Stupid, stupid, stupid! I chanted to myself.
Darren sighed heavily at my back. “I’m growing impatient, Gabriella.” In the reflection, I could see him close his eyes as if praying for more patience. Any second he was going to tire of our conversation and just unlock the damned door himself.
When I still didn’t answer, he grabbed my shoulders with his big hands and spun me around so I had to look right at him. His eyes searched mine. Instead of staring back at him, I looked over his shoulder at the line of computers.
“I need to show you something.” I pointed at the computers and gestured for him to follow me. He did, raising his eyebrows and looking reluctant. Maybe he does need more patience, I thought, though that was sort of like the pot calling the kettle black.
I opened my email and clicked on the attachment from Adriana. Pointing to the screen, I said, “This is what these bodies looked like four days ago.” I wanted to say, “Now do you understand my hesitation?” But I thought that would be rude. Instead, I gave him a significant look.
He stared in disbelief at the photos and then at the boxes in the lab. All the blood drained from his face. He whispered under his breath, but the only words discernable were supernatural, not possible, and unorthodox.
Tell me about it.
“And,” I continued, breaking into his muttering, “I took a skin sample from one of them. When I turned around after putting the vial in the rack, the skin had grown back. There wasn’t even a scar or mark of any kind.”
For a second he looked as though he was struggling to comprehend my words. He stood so still you’d think a group of industrious lab technicians had carved a statue in the middle of the lab, though I could tell by his frozen expression his brain was working feverishly. If I thought his face couldn’t turn paler or more skeptical, I was wrong. His mouth went all fish-out-of-water, and he visibly gulped before fiddling in his jacket pocket. His cell phone flashed to his ear. I knew what that meant: the FBI would be here soon. I wanted to kick myself for bringing this to his attention before I had researched everything more thoroughly. It seemed like a brilliant idea two minutes ago.
The conversation on the phone was quick. I roughly translated from the one-sided conversation that the bodies would be flown to D.C. with the FBI in tow. I opened my mouth to speak, but Darren had already dialed another number, and within seconds he was speaking again, eyeing me with mild apprehension.
“Yes, this is Darren Halistor,” he said with a determined calm. He walked across the room to give himself privacy.
After the brief conversation, Darren closed the space between us again. “The lab techs need to stay out of the Fishbowl until the FBI arrive.”
“That’s not fair,” I insisted, sounding almost like a petulant child.
He nodded. “You’re right. It’s not.” He turned and walked toward the elevator. “Gabriella?” he said over his shoulder. “Fair or not, keep the Fishbowl sealed until the FBI arrive. We don’t want anything tampered with.”
“Of course,” I said reluctantly.
For two hours and twenty-six minutes I stared at the angels through the glass walls like they were fish in an aquarium. That was how the lab became known as the Fishbowl. During that time, all I could think about was how they ended up in my lab.
As I sat at one of the lab tables, the place swarmed with laboratory workers and FBI agents. It was like a sea of white coats and black jackets had taken over. How the FBI arrived so quickly was a mystery. They marched in, preparing to escort everything we had received from Italy to another laboratory in Washington, D.C. Several of their scientists groped my equipment, and I glared at them. As silly as it was, I couldn’t help but be upset as they touched what wasn’t theirs. My displeasure was surely obvious on my face. It was only natural the U.S. government would be interested in this kind of discovery, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.
My poor associates crowded together in a corner, eyeing the newcomers suspiciously. One thing everyone had in common was the fact they were all waiting for me to open the lab and enter first. Even Darren seemed afraid to pass through the doors first. When the time came, I stretched my hand out toward the door handle, the key card in my other hand. Both trembled nervously, but as soon as my fingers touched the door, my body relaxed. All I could think about was going to the angels. Who or what had possessed me? This time I slid the key eagerly through the lock.
When the door opened, air rushed into the lab, and the movement caused me to involuntarily take several steps in. My heart calmed, my nerves died down, and I felt like the angels were welcoming me. People anxiously flooded into the lab behind me.
“Dr. Moretti.” A taller, older man approached me. He was definitely an FBI agent. His muscles filled the black, wrinkle-free suit, and his full head of hair was sprinkled with salt and pepper. An earpiece curled around his right ear. To top off the look, he wore dark sunglasses. “I’ve been informed this is your field of expertise, and you’re the best. To think you graduated with your doctorate at nineteen. Amazing.” He didn’t sound amazed.
I nodded, not sure how to respond. My brain had always functioned at a higher level than my fellow classmates. Plus my specialty was unique in every aspect. How many people were paid to prove the paranormal or to disprove legends and myths? A terrible thought bobbed to the surface. What if this was the last time I’d see these angels?
The agent continued, not noticing my mind working a million miles an hour. “I’d like to request you join us at our P.I. Laboratory to continue your research on this project.”
That was a surprise. It was as if he read my mind. “P.I. Lab?”
“Paranormal Investigations,” he answered with a disgusted curl of his lips. He apparently thought something was funny about this. Maybe he didn’t believe in the supernatural.
Over his shoulder, Darren nodded approvingly. I took his cue and nodded to the agent. I was still in a daze. Someone could have asked me if I liked ketchup over my ice cream and I would have agreed.
The agent stared at me, trying to read my face.
“Excuse me—” I groped for his name, realizing he hadn’t given me one. It wasn’t like the FBI had name badges that said: “Hi my name is so-and-so.”
“I’m sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry. “I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Special Agent—” He put his finger to his earpiece and frowned angrily. “You can call me Jeff.” He smiled, and the gesture seemed forced.
Something familiar in his eyes blazed from beneath his sunglasses. Gooseflesh ran up my arms and down my spine. “Nice to meet you Jeff, I’m Dr. Moretti, as you already know,” I said, using my formal name.
Before he had time to respond, he glanced over my shoulder. Someone must have said something over his earpiece, because he pressed his finger to the small device again and said, “Excuse me.” He walked away.
I was relieved and felt a rush of gratitude to whoever had contacted him. My mind wasn’t coherent enough to respond, and my concentration was sliding away. I had a fervent desire for the day to end, but it had only just begun. As the busy workers packed up the other artifacts that had been shipped from Italy, I stared at one of the boxes that held the human remains—if they were human. There were two males and one female. What I was seeing, though, was the opposite of remains.
My fingers curled around the box’s edge that held one of the males. All my previous fear seemed to evaporate being this close. His long black hair was shiny and appeared freshly washed. His cheeks had lost some of their sallow look, and his chest was full of knotted muscles. His skin color was superbly browned, as if he had been working in the sun for hours. However, his clothes were old and torn to pieces, consistent with being buried for hundreds of years, although the necklace around his neck appeared completely untarnished by time. This man couldn’t be the same dehydrated corpse in those pictures. But what bothered me even more than his strange appearance, or the fact he looked alive, was that I thought he was beautiful.
Crap.
CHAPTER 4: NECKLACE
An alluring, statuesque woman with long, brown hair positioned herself on the other side of the box, which encompassed the marvelous male angel. She was perfectly fitted in a black suit that showed her every curve, but I could tell she had no clue she was in the presence of an angel. Unless it had all just been in my imagination: the angels and the dark creature, all things I had just invented. Maybe I had eaten some hallucinogenic mushrooms. Maybe I wasn’t even really at work.
“Hi. I’m Agent Austin, but you can call me Karen,” the woman said with a companionable inflection. “I’m with the FBI.” She held out her hand. She had a charisma about her I was sure made every woman envious. Even I felt a pang of jealousy at her outstanding perfection and breathtaking beauty.
“Dr. Moretti.” I shook her hand. “You can call me Gabriella.” I tried to smile at her convincingly. There was something compassionate and fascinating about this woman, and I immediately liked her, jealousy be damned.
“Gabriella.” She tested my name on her tongue. “That’s a striking name.” She returned my smile. Even her teeth were white and straight. Maybe she was an angel too. Why not? If I really was on some mushroom-induced trip, she could be whoever I wanted her to be.
“Thank you.” I stared down at the angel. I was afraid if I ripped my eyes away from him, he would vanish. I wondered why I had been so anxious to get away earlier when I felt so peaceful in their presence now. Every second I spent next to this box the more I wanted to touch the man inside.
“Are you the one who specializes in supernatural beings?” Karen questioned, clearly intrigued by my profession. I didn’t hold it against her; many people were curious, though most just looked at me as if I had lost all my marbles, which might be the case.
“I guess you could put it that way,” I said and pursed my lips. “Really, though, this is the most mysterious thing to happen here. One time there was an uproar about vampire bones, but you know, it was just in everyone’s head.” Normally I wouldn’t talk this much to anyone about my profession. I was practically babbling. Keeping so many secrets could be difficult, but I didn’t have to here.
Karen looked at me, eager and delighted. “So that myth is squashed?” She sighed, as if she wished the stories were all true. Maybe she was one of those people who dreamed a vampire would bite her.
Someone in her earpiece caught her attention. She looked up from the angel and pressed a finger to her ear. I followed her gaze. My eyes met with none other than Jeff’s, who stood at the far side of the Fishbowl. When Jeff realized I was looking his direction, his eyes burned into mine. Behind the sunglasses was that familiar blaze. Sinister somehow.
“Dammit,” Karen muttered. “I’ll be right back.” She circled around the box gracefully, like a swan in water, toward Jeff.
My gaze turned back to the angel. He looked peaceful, blind to all the fuss going on around him. A lab worker waltzed up and stared at me expectantly without saying a word.
“Yes?” I finally asked after several long, silent seconds.
“Director Halistor told me to prepare the bodies for shipping,” the boy said timidly. He continued to look at me and finally raised his eyebrows. His eyes roamed down my arm to where my fingers were curled around the box.
“Right,” I said, my mind somewhere far, far away. “Darren is the boss.”
“Huh?”
“Sorry. Director Halistor,” I corrected. Darren absolutely hated his last name. There was a story behind it that he’d never told me. Only his lower subordinates called him Director Halistor. Sometimes it even took me a second or two to register whom my employees were talking about when they called him that. Secretly, I knew they also called him Hook Foot. It had something to do with fishing.
Backing away from the angel, my heart ached slightly. It was hard to move away now that I had gotten so close. I scrutinized the room while the box was nailed shut. Karen and Special Agent you can call me Jeff were still talking rapidly to each other. Their whispered discussion was intense, and several times Jeff shot a glare my direction, targeting my forehead as if he were shooting laser beams through my skull. I had to resist the urge to recoil from the glower. We were on “friendly” terms only moments before, right? My eyes kept darting in their direction, stealing glances, unable to suppress paranoia. Karen incessantly rubbed her mouth and neck in noticeable exasperation; she even seemed a little indignant.
Weird. I shrugged off the odd feeling. I wondered briefly what they were talking about, and then decided it wasn’t worth the additional thought. My mind was too busy dealing with the situation at hand: the angels. I wanted to revive them, but I didn’t know how. It would be a travesty if they never awoke, I thought out of nowhere.
The lab employee carted the first box away on a steel table with wheels. The other two boxes were still open. This time I loomed over the box that held the woman.
If I thought Karen was stunning, this angel blew her out of the water. She had hair down to her chest; it was a dark auburn I thought only women who dyed their hair could achieve. Her skin was dark and covered in tattoos—symbols I was dying to understand. I gazed down at the angel in heavy concentration, as if by will alone I could mend her. She also wore a necklace. It was small and simple, a hollow circle with a shield outlined in the middle. It rested above her disintegrated clothes and was small, delicate, and, for its age, appeared shiny and new. It was identical to the one the male angel wore. I wondered what their meaning was and whether I would ever get the chance to find out.
Download this book for your ebook reader.
(Pages 1-35 show above.)