Later, when the police made a visit to Carla’s house for questioning, her parents told them their daughter was staying with her cousin for the weekend. Unfortunately, she never showed. Soon after, Miss Rosi became a missing person. To this day, they never found her body. Years later, Carla’s parents finally accepted that their daughter wasn’t coming home and placed an empty coffin in the mausoleum of the Salem Cemetery. Manuel would never forget the look of despair on her father’s face, no doubt grief-stricken over his daughter’s missing body.
Now that the door to Manuel’s nightmare was open, it took him to a different place... to the place where dead bodies were stored. There was no way he would allow his mother to identify Lailah’s body all alone.
As he entered the San Francisco Memorial Hospital, his hands went clammy and a cold sweat bloomed on his forehead. Swallowing the knot in his throat, Manuel reached for his mother’s hand and lightly squeezed.
Manuel stiffened as a doctor walked out of a revolving door and said, “Ms. Sanchez, please follow me. The viewing room is this way.” The physician gestured toward a long hallway. Above the pocket of her white coat it read JANICE KRAMER, MD, Chief of Surgery.
When they came to a stretch of whitewashed concrete walls, Manuel figured they were getting close, and he was right. Dr. Kramer stopped at a pair of double stainless-steel doors marked with the words MORGUE and AUTHORIZED STAFF.
“Wait here, please,” said the physician. “I’ll tell them you’re here.”
A few minutes later, the doctor opened the door. “The coroner is ready,” she spoke softly. “If you need more time...”
Manuel’s mother inhaled a deep breath. On a quick exhale, she said, “Please, I’d like to see my daughter.”
The doctor nodded and looked to Manuel, her expression troubling. Then she shifted her eyes back to Manuel’s mother. “Ms. Sanchez, are you sure you want your son to go?” Her tone seemed doubtful. “The body is—”
“It’s okay,” Manuel interjected. “I need to see my sister.”
The physician nodded.
As they walked inside, the smell of formaldehyde filled Manuel’s nostrils. It reminded him of his science classroom and dissecting frogs. His gut churned, and he took a deep breath.
Then he saw a white curtain hanging on the far side of the room. It blocked the view of Lailah.
“Are you okay, Manuel?” his mother asked.
He nodded in silence.
A man wearing green scrubs stood by the white curtain. When the doctor gave him a slight nod, he parted the drapes down the middle in a slow swish, revealing a body lying on a metal table, covered by a white sheet.
As Manuel fought to wake, to open his eyes, his heart went into overdrive.
Oh God, no... Please, not this memory.
With his hand clasped to his mother’s, Manuel blinked tears as the medical examiner reached forward and folded the shroud back, unveiling his sister’s face.
Manuel stared down and took his first look at Lailah since he’d last seen her alive. Her eyes appeared stitched shut.
Aside from the bright red hair and freckled cheeks, she no longer looked like the sister he once knew. Her mouth was blue and her bottom lip split from what might have been someone’s hand or fist. The bandages on Lailah’s throat mostly hid the wounds, but it was obvious she had suffered severe trauma.
“Oh, my poor baby,” Manuel’s mother sobbed into her hands. “Who would do such a thing?”
Emotion overcame Manuel. His throat swelled and tears streamed down his cheeks. In a moment of silence, he simply wrapped his arm around his mother and held on to her as tightly as he could. Finally, he whispered the only comforting words he could come up with, “I promise, Mama. Someday, I’ll find the person who did this.”
Dr. Kramer nodded at the examiner, who re-covered Lailah’s face.
That same dreadful night, a sinister chill crept through Manuel as he huddled beneath the blankets in his bed like a child afraid of the dark. He wondered who—what—could have done something this brutal to his sister? It couldn’t be human itself, he rationalized. Even an animal couldn’t drain a body of that much blood. But what if it could? Maybe the killers could transform into vampires.
Manuel was letting his imagination take over now. Suddenly, he was afraid to peer from out of the covers, afraid even to move. Ice-cold terror coursed through his veins, and his heart pounded inside his chest. For one brief moment, he thought he heard a voice calling out to him, whispering his name.
In the midst of Manuel’s horrific nightmare, images of his sister’s corpse were so vivid they swirled together with the young woman he’d found in a dumpster, murdered a few weeks ago. Bits and pieces of the memories mixed until he could only see flashes of bright red hair, pale bare skin, blue lifeless lips, bruises, and teeth marks. It appeared that some kind of mythical creature attacked them.
“Lailah...” he whispered her name in his sleep, trying to bring back the image in his mind of her alive and happy, although he could not. The memories of her death stabbed through his heart, and all Manuel could see was her pale, lifeless face.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The pounding on Manuel’s apartment door and his French bulldog’s barking instantly brought his eyes open, the abrupt sounds kick-starting his heart. As he looked at the clock on the nightstand, he saw it was already twelve o’clock in the afternoon. Shit! “Who the—”
BANG! BANG! BANG!
With its fur ruffled, the dog went into full-blown bark mode.
“Cool your jets, Ira,” Manuel told his furry companion. “It’s probably just the landlord.”
Ignoring the throbbing in his head, he swung his legs off the bed and pushed himself to his feet. Then he sat back down, slowly. “Christ,” he grumbled, rubbing his aching temple. Coffee, he thought. I need coffee.
The pounding started again.
“Damn it,” he groaned, maneuvering back into the upright position. Who in the hell is banging on my door at this time of the day? He cursed to himself. It’s Sunday for crying-out-loud, and where in the hell are my damn pants?
Finally, he managed to locate the pants he’d previously worn the day before. On shaky legs, Manuel stumbled with his trousers but caught his footing before he fell forward and pulled them up over his hips. Shit! If only he could get a little more sleep. Then he might feel like a human again.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Ira rushed out of the bedroom barking, her nails clipping across the hardwood floor.
“Keep your damn pants on!” he called out as he zipped up, pulled on a T-shirt, and then headed for the living room. “I’m coming for Pete’s sake!”
Manuel walked over to the door and put his eye to the peephole. When he saw the face of the person standing outside his door, he rolled over and pressed his back against the wall. Shit!
“I know you’re in there,” Captain Hodge said. “Come on, Detective Sanchez. Open the damn door.”
Releasing an aggravated sigh, Manuel flipped the locks and threw open the door. Before he could say a word, Hodge barged past him.
Ira bared her teeth at Captain Hodge and growled.
“Nice to see you too, Ira.” Hodge’s voice suddenly became familiar to the dog as she came running with her tail wagging.
“Detective, don’t you ever answer your damn phone?” Hodge asked as he bent down to pet Ira. “I’ve been trying to reach you all morning.”
“Sorry, Captain. I’ve been a little detained,” he said with his best, “I don’t give a shit” snarl while shutting the door.
Hodge looked up with his brows furrowed. “You mean... drunk.”
Manuel shrugged and plopped down in a tattered chair that faced the television. “Hell, Captain, you’re the one that gave me the time off.”
“Okay, okay,” Hodge said as he sat down in the chair across from Manuel. “I get it. What you do in your free time is none of my business.”
“Look, Captain, I’m exhausted,” he said
around a yawn. “Was there any particular reason you stopped by?”
“Yeah, well...” Hodge said, swallowing hard. “I thought it would be best if I came here and told you in person.”
Manuel frowned. “Tell me what?”
Hodge leaned forward, his face dead serious. “I’ve got a lead on an old cold case. And it has to do with your sister.”
Manuel’s eyes snapped wide. “What—”
Chapter Three
Roman Kincaid stood outside the parking lot of Nate’s bar where he’d last seen the beautiful redheaded angel, a hopeless expression marring his face. The Wolf’s Lair was completely empty, closed down for repairs due to the extensive damage from what humans thought to be an earthquake, but in truth, they’d fought the most dangerous supernatural beings the Breedline and his kind had ever encountered. When all hope appeared to be lost, from out of nowhere five magnificent black-winged battle angels crashed through the bar’s roof in the nick of time. Without haste, the angels—who towered at least ten feet or more—rendered the Fury powerless.
As he watched them take flight and disappear into the night sky with the defeated trio in their custody, he felt an unfamiliar ache in the center of his chest—the pain brought on by the angel named Lailah. When Roman first laid eyes on her, he knew she was the one. He could feel it deep down in his soul. Her long red hair that tumbled around her delicate and flawless shoulders would forever haunt his dreams. Her eyes were like the finest emeralds surrounded by thick, dark lashes that accentuated the color. And the freckles on her cheeks beckoned him. Why did she continue to affect him so strongly? His heart sped into a wild beat just thinking about her, but she was gone. Now he understood fully for the first time what it was to have a broken heart.
He dragged a hand through his hair and let out a frustrated sigh, wondering whether she felt the same, or was this emotion one-sided only. In the long run, did it really matter? Hell, she was an angel for crying out loud, and he was just a man. Besides, it wasn’t likely he’d ever see her again.
The exasperating question plaguing him was whether he should let it go and move on. Should he forget that he’d ever laid eyes on her? Roman wasn’t the kind of man to ever give up. All his life, he pursued what he wanted. And Lailah was all he could think about. Deep down, Roman knew the answer to the question he’d posed to himself. He would turn over heaven and hell if that’s what it took to find her.
“What are you doing here?” Lawrence asked as he came up behind Roman and placed his hand on his shoulder.
Roman flinched at the contact, and his pulse leaped in alarm. “Shit.” He snapped his head around. “You ’bout gave me a damn heart attack, you sneaky bastard.”
Lawrence stepped back. “Sorry, man,” he said with a chuckle, his white teeth flashing against his dark skin. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Is there something you want to talk about? You seem to have a lot on your mind lately.”
“Nah, I’m good.” Roman waved it off like it was nothing.
Lawrence cocked a brow and his gaze flickered in question. “Roman, I’ve known you for years, and this is the first time I’ve seen you so...” he paused as if he was mentally searching for the right word, “...quiet.”
Roman sucked in a breath, and his chest rose and fell harshly as if he was swallowing away his pride. Then he scrubbed both hands over his face and looked at Lawrence pointedly. “I can’t keep a damn thing from you, can I?”
“Nope,” Lawrence said shortly. “Spill it, buddy.”
“So, why are you here?” Roman queried, trying to change the subject.
Lawrence snorted. “Are you trying to avoid the question? I’ll make you a deal. You tell me what’s going on, and I’ll give you my reason for being here. Capeesh?”
“Okay, here goes nothing.” Roman nervously rubbed his palms together, a look of anxiety simmering in his dark eyes. He didn’t like how vulnerable he felt, how uncertain and uneasy with what he was about to tell his friend he’d practically known his whole life. Lawrence was the type of man that would take a bullet for a complete stranger. That kind of selflessness was hard to find. Not many men, no matter what, were willing to sacrifice their lives for someone else.
“I don’t really know how to say what I’m feeling because I don’t truly understand it myself,” Roman continued. “But first, I need you to promise me something.”
“What?” Lawrence asked, his eyes never leaving Roman’s face.
“You can’t tell a soul.” His voice took on a serious tone. The very last thing Roman wanted was his vulnerability broadcast far and wide. “Everyone will think I’m a nut job.”
“You have my word,” Lawrence said. “Whatever you share stays between us.”
“Remember the redheaded angel?” Roman asked.
“How could I possibly forget?” Lawrence said, exhaling a deep breath. “She towered at least ten feet tall with wings that turned to fire, and literally saved our asses.”
In the silence that followed, Lawrence looked at Roman in inquiry and said, “What about her?”
Roman placed his hand against his forehead, trying to collect his jumbled thoughts. It felt as though a ton of bricks was pressing down on him. “Damn it,” he cursed in a low voice. “I feel like I’m losing my damn mind.”
Lawrence placed his palm back on Roman’s shoulder. “Okay, calm down and collect your thoughts. Then tell me exactly what’s going on.”
The soothing note to Lawrence’s voice was like a warm blanket surrounding him, easing some of the tension. Roman slumped and looked down.
“I... bonded with her,” Roman finally managed to choke out. The words came out as scrambled as his thoughts were. “I know it sounds crazy, but I swear it happened. And I can’t get her out of my head.” Roman looked up at Lawrence as if he was pleading for help. “What the hell am I going to do?”
“Everything will be all right,” Lawrence said with a calmness Roman sure as hell didn’t feel. “We’ll figure this thing out.”
Roman shook his head. “But how?” he said, panic fluttering deep in his gut. “It’s not like I can just go looking for her. She’s a freakin’ angel.”
“Roman, listen to me. You have to pull yourself together. Losing your shit won’t solve anything. You hear me?”
Roman nodded numbly. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“Okay, here’s what I’m going to do, buddy. I know someone that can help us. She has...” Lawrence briefly paused and let out a long sigh, “...special talents.”
“What kind of special talents?”
“She can speak to angels.”
Roman rolled his eyes. “Are you talking about a psychic medium?”
“No. This person is something entirely different. In another life, she was a guardian angel.”
“Oh, come on, Lawrence,” Roman groaned. “You really believe that?”
“Why not?” Lawrence shrugged his shoulders. “Look at us. We’re not exactly human, now are we?”
“I guess you’ve got a point there.”
“I’m sure she’ll do everything she can to help you,” Lawrence said.
“How do you know? This person doesn’t even know me.”
“Because,” Lawrence patted Roman’s shoulder and smiled reassuringly, “she’s my sister.”
“Melanie?” Roman said in bewilderment.
“Yep,” Lawrence said shortly.
He stared at Lawrence as if afraid to believe the unbelievable. “I can’t believe it.” His eyes rounded. “So, how come you never told me about this before?”
“What would you have me say?” Lawrence shook his head. “Oh, by the way, my sister used to be an angel,” he said mockingly. “It’s not exactly something you bring up in ordinary conversation. Besides, it’s not something she’s supposed to talk about.”
Roman squared his shoulders resolutely and then nodded. “Yeah, I get it. You do trust me, right?” he asked. “You know I would never give her secret away.”
“I trust you,
Roman.”
As Roman heaved a deep breath, a flicker of hope lightened the stormy gray of his dark eyes. “Then what are we waiting for? I’m ready to go find my angel.”
“Then let’s do this,” Lawrence said. “You can follow me to Melanie’s place. I’ll give her a call on the way.”
As Lawrence turned toward his SUV, Roman called out, “Hey, wait. What was the reason you stopped by Nate’s bar?”
Lawrence looked at Roman and grinned. “Oh, yeah,” he said with a slight chuckle. “No particular reason. I figured something was bothering you, so I followed you here.”
“Thanks, man.”
Lawrence nodded once. “Don’t mention it, buddy.”
“One more question before we leave,” Roman said with a look of curiosity. “So, how did all this go about? I mean... the angel thing with your sister.”
“Sorry, buddy.” Lawrence’s forehead crinkled. “That’s something she cannot share.”
Roman cocked a brow. “Ah, I get it.”
Chapter Four
The intensive care unit Sebastian was in, located in the In-Between—the outer space surrounding heaven—had curtained glass walls, and even from the outside, you could hear the hum of the medical equipment that was keeping him sedated.
Now, for the second time, he’d given his life to save another. But were his good deeds deserving of another chance at life? Growing up, Sebastian had suffered a tortured childhood that darkened his heart, replacing the goodness with evil intent and revenge. In the eyes of the Creator, all life deserved a second chance. Like all of his beloved creations, Sebastian was, too, born with a purpose.
After the Creator had summoned his battle angels with the task of rendering the Fury powerless and bringing the trio back to the heavens in their custody, he asked them to bring Sebastian’s body along with them.
Lailah stood beside the hospital bed, peering down at Sebastian as he lay in a state of deep unconsciousness. Her long crimson hair fell forward and brushed against his face as she leaned over him. “It’s not your time to go,” she whispered close to his ear. “The Creator needs you.”
THE IMMORTAL: A Novel of the Breedline series Page 3
