THE IMMORTAL: A Novel of the Breedline series

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THE IMMORTAL: A Novel of the Breedline series Page 4

by Shana Congrove


  She winced at the sound of the door sliding open. As she stood straight and turned around, one of her comrades in arms barged his way in. Frigg was not your ordinary angel. Not only did he resemble the singer, musician, and actor Billy Idol of the ’80s punk rock band—sporting the same trademark bleached spiked hair—he had served as a battle angel for more than a century. With a personality bigger than life, he still had his share of human weaknesses: a love for rock-n-roll, cheeseburgers, and classic black-and-white movies. The Creator presented Frigg with an extraordinary gift. He had the unique ability to shapeshift. He could transform and reshape himself into any living thing.

  When he caught sight of Sebastian’s pale face, he curled his upper lip. There were tubes going in and out of every orifice he had, and the wires attached to his chest made him look as if he were one of Dr. Frankenstein’s lab experiments.

  “He looks like hell,” Frigg said, the words coming out in a sarcastic tone heavily laced with an English accent.

  Lailah rolled her eyes. “He’ll be fine in a few days,” she said. “So, what are you doing here?”

  “Cronus sent me. He wants to see you, and it sounded urgent.”

  “I’m not supposed to leave him alone,” she said, glancing down at Sebastian with a worried expression on her face. She looked back at Frigg and shrugged. “Someone should be here in case he comes around.”

  “I guess I can stay,” he grumbled. “But no more than an hour, tops. I don’t want to miss my show.” Frigg brought his wrist to his face and glanced at the shimmering gold watch. “One of Alfred Hitchcock’s old classics will be on in an hour.”

  Lailah let out an aggravated sigh. “Ya know, it wouldn’t kill you to put others before yourself, Fitzgerald Rochester,” she said addressing Frigg with his real name. “It’s just a movie for heaven’s sake.”

  He shrugged off her statement as though it was nothing and crossed his arms over his chest. “Just make sure you’re back in an hour and don’t ever call me by that name again.”

  Lailah groaned. “Okay, fine, but when I get back, we’re having a serious talk. Your selfish needs are starting to get out of hand.”

  “Whatever,” he said with an arched brow and plopped down in the chair next to Sebastian’s bed, no doubt counting down the minutes.

  Before Lailah left the room, she placed her hand against the side of Sebastian’s face and blanketed him with a healing power that traveled to every pore in his body. Then she closed her eyes and spoke to him telepathically.

  “Get rest.” Her voice was soft in his mind. “I will return, and soon you will awake.”

  Sebastian tried to nod, but his body would not obey what his mind commanded. He was going to make it, however.

  As Lailah exited the glass room, she nodded at the two guards standing outside and then strode down a long corridor, passing the door to the confined space that held the Fury. Here, their powers were useless. Still, she wondered what the Creator had in store for the savage, supernatural trio. Were they to join forces with her kind? If so, could they be trusted? Although, the last thing she needed was to worry about their fate. She had other issues to deal with. Healing Sebastian was her main goal. And currently, all she could think about was the Adalwolf she’d momentarily encountered on earth. Lailah was confused with the feelings she had for him. Was it possible to fall in love at first sight? she thought. Although she did not understand why, she could not get Roman’s handsome face off her mind. His striking features created an unfamiliar yearning within her. The alluring color of his eyes reminded her of two stunning, dark onyx gemstones.

  The unbearable ache inside her chest brought back memories of the human life she’d lost at the young age of seventeen. Forty-one years ago, she’d been brutally murdered at the hands of a monster. Then she remembered things she could not get out of her head... the bugs that crawled over her naked body as her soul looked down at her corpse that had been discarded in that filthy ditch. Lailah frowned as she struggled with the horrific and dark recollection of her death. Tears gathered in her eyes, and she wiped one away as it trickled down her cheek.

  Lailah felt cheated. Dreams of her falling in love and a family completely stripped away. Now, she had a reason to go back to earth. To be with Roman.

  Lailah’s sharp-edged wings soared across the heavens with ease, carrying her to her destination. The closer she got, the tenser she became, wondering why Cronus had summoned her. Does this have anything to do with the Adalwolf back on earth? She worried silently, her mind in a whirlwind. Is Roman in some kind of danger?

  Moments later, she set aside her fears, floated to the ground, and stood outside the main headquarters of the training center. The wind had come up, and the long strands of her hair lifted and tousled around her youthful face. Before she went inside, she prayed for a miracle. If somehow granted one wish, it would be for her to see Roman once again.

  When Lailah walked inside, she tilted her head up and gazed at the miles of spectacular, shiny gold walls that rose up from the pristine stone floor.

  “Lailah,” said a familiar male voice.

  She quickly looked forward as Cronus moved in her direction. He was commander in chief of all the battle angels, and stunningly handsome. His dark hair hung in thick waves past his shoulders, and his eyes sparkled a pale gray. Similar to all the other battle angels, Cronus’s muscular arms were marked with unique tattoos. With the sword of truth at his side and his glorious, black wings tucked behind his back, he dipped his head in her presence and said, “You have been summoned by the Creator.”

  Lailah dropped to one knee, bowed her head, and said, “Yes, commander.”

  As she rose back to her feet and stood tall, she focused on the seriousness of his face. Her mouth went dry, and finally, she managed to say, “Do you know why?”

  “He has a task for you,” Cronus told her and then pointed to a long corridor that led to a giant set of double doors. “Your assistance is required. There has been an incident down below.” He felt compelled to tack on, “There is healing to be done and you’re the only one capable for this particular task.”

  She looked away from him, her eyes wide with anticipation. Then she nodded in silence and hesitantly stepped forward, her heart racing like the wings of a hummingbird. Does the task involve earth? she wondered and prayed it was so.

  As Lailah got to the massive entrance, she suddenly felt weak in the knees, not knowing what to expect on the other side. She had never actually seen the Creator. She had only heard his voice. When he had whispered into her mind, it was as if the most beautiful symphony magically transformed itself into vocal cords. Words alone could not express the euphonious sound. According to her commander, only a few chosen angels, including himself, had witnessed his glory. It was an honor and a privilege to meet him in person.

  Her hand trembled as she turned the knob. Instead of rushing inside, she leaned in a little so she could peek past the door.

  “Come in, my sweet child,” said a deep but gentle voice that she instantly recognized, soothing her anxiety.

  Lailah was awestruck when she pushed inside. With her mouth agape, she stood frozen in place, gazing into the most brilliant and glorious light. Life, as it existed, didn’t get any better than this moment. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, and slowly trickled down her face. Overwhelmed by his presence, she dropped to her knees. “My Lord,” she gasped, lowering her head.

  “Look upon me, my child,” he softly commanded.

  “My eyes are not worthy of your grace,” she said in a tear-laced voice.

  “Of all my precious angels, you are most worthy.”

  Slowly, Lailah looked up and stared into the magnificent and wondrous sight with wide green eyes. She smiled and took in every word as he explained the task that involved the special powers she’d been given. Gifted with holy fire, Lailah not only possessed the ability to shape and manipulate holy flames—which were inextinguishable by normal means and were used to trap or immobili
ze their enemies, rather than killing them outright—she could also summon spirits of the deceased back to the world of the living, but only with the Creator’s permission. This was going to be the most difficult task God assigned her to do, but she was determined to succeed.

  As she headed back to tend to Sebastian, her heart gave a pinch, and she mentally scolded herself for allowing fear to fill her head with doubts. She forced the darkness out of her mind and replaced it with light. God had answered her prayers. She was going back to earth and taking Sebastian and the Fury with her.

  Chapter Five

  After a tense pause, Captain Hodge said, “We’ve located Carla Rosi’s body.”

  “What? Where?” Manuel’s heart plummeted.

  “At the Salem Cemetery, in an open grave,” Hodge said grimly. “And that’s not all.”

  Manuel fixed Hodge with a level stare, shifting uneasily in his chair. Whatever this was, it couldn’t possibly be good, he thought.

  Before Hodge continued, an uncomfortable silence settled heavily on Manuel’s shoulders. His mind flashed an image of his sister’s pale face. It reminded him of how responsible he felt for her death. He wished she had listened to his warning. Wished he had done more to stop her.

  “Early this morning,” Hodge continued, “a call came through dispatch from one of the cemetery’s security guards. Outside the gated mausoleum, they discovered two bodies identified as Sophie Turner and Todd Blackmon. Both victims were in their mid-twenties.”

  “What the hell does this have to do with Carla Rosi’s body?”

  Hodge lifted a restraining hand. “Hold on, Detective. I’m getting to that part.”

  The living room walls seemed to tilt and sway as Manuel struggled to keep his composure. Even his dog’s patience had temporarily faltered, as she began to whimper.

  Manuel snapped his fingers. “Ira, go lay down.” His firm tone demanded the dog’s attention.

  As Ira obeyed Manuel and left the room, Captain Hodge said, “Detective Ratcliff and I were the first to arrive at the crime scene. Before we got to the victims, we spotted an open grave. It was so foggy, we damn near fell into the thing,” he said, shaking his head. “As we flashed a light down into the dark hole, we saw someone inside, and fortunately still alive. A young woman named Jena McCain. And that wasn’t all we found.”

  “Carla Rosi’s body?” Manuel asked.

  Hodge silently nodded. “We received a positive match from her dental records later this morning.”

  “So, how in the hell did her body end up in the Salem Cemetery?”

  “Well, the thing is, I believe Carla’s body has been in that grave all these years,” Hodge explained. “I think whoever murdered your sister did the same thing to Carla and buried her body there. The question is who dug up that grave?”

  Manuel’s mind raced back in time, to the day he watched his sister climb in the backseat of that green Camaro. It led to the dreadful arrival of the police and the shocked expression on his mother’s face, to the morgue where they identified his sister’s body, and back to the mysterious discovery of Carla’s body.

  “How did Ms. McCain end up in that grave?” Manuel asked, the cop in him coming out.

  “She stated that she accidentally fell into it.”

  “So,” Manuel blew out a deep breath. “What made you think those remains were Carla’s anyway?”

  “This is where it gets even more bizarre.” Pausing, Hodge sighed, and then rubbed his forehead. “Ms. McCain claims she’s a spiritual medium. She and her friends went to the cemetery to try to communicate with Carla’s spirit. They wanted to find out what happened to her years ago.”

  “Well, did she? I mean, did she actually say she spoke with Carla’s ghost?”

  “Yes, but you have to understand Ms. McCain wasn’t exactly coherent when we pulled her out of that grave. She was hysterical, babbling on about a curse and that she’d been bitten by some kind of creature.”

  Manuel’s eyes rounded. “What kind of creature?”

  Another uneasy silence fell between them. Hodge lowered his head and stared at the floor for several moments, rubbing his forehead again. Then he looked at Manuel and said, “A werewolf.”

  “A werewolf?”

  “Yeah,” Hodge replied. “I know that sounds crazy, but Detective Ratcliff was standing beside me when she said it.”

  “Jesus,” Manuel muttered. “What do you make of this, Captain? Do you really believe Ms. McCain saw a werewolf?”

  Hodge snorted. “I think Ms. McCain is suffering from severe trauma. Whatever she thought she saw was definitely not human. It had to be some kind of wild animal. Maybe a pack of coyotes. Hell, I don’t know.” He shook his head. “The victims looked as though a damn Kodiak bear attacked them. Whatever it was, it ripped out their throats. Mr. Blackmon’s injuries were the worst. It appeared that some of his organs were missing.”

  “My God,” Manuel gasped. “Was there any sign of animal tracks?”

  Hodge shook his head. “Not a damn thing, which makes it even more baffling. The murders seem to be similar to all the homeless victims we had not too long ago. There is a possibility both are related. We’ll know more after forensics examine the victim’s bodies.”

  Manuel knew it wasn’t related to the homeless murders, although he couldn’t tell his captain. He’d sworn to the Breedline Covenant to keep it a secret. The Fury—a trio of supernatural beings that were responsible for all the murders—had surrendered to five battle angels. Manuel and his partner, Frank Perkins, had witnessed the angels take them captive. The thing in that cemetery had to be some other kind of monster.

  “What about Ms. McCain’s injuries? You mentioned she said she was bitten.”

  “The physician on duty at the Bates Memorial Hospital...” Hodge paused for a moment as though he was thinking, and then finally said, “I believe her name is Dr. Helen Carrington. Anyway, she is supposed to contact me after Ms. McCain’s examination. Hopefully, she’ll be able to pinpoint what kind of animal we’re dealing with, if that’s what this is.”

  Thank God, Manuel thought. Dr. Helen Carrington was exactly the right physician for this type of situation. She was a Breedline, and if indeed something supernatural caused the attack, it was imperative that he notify the Breedline Covenant as soon as possible. This was way over his department.

  “I’ve met Dr. Carrington,” Manuel finally said. “She’s the same physician that was at my nephew’s bar when Perkins and I came across that freaky homicide. You remember, don’t you? The one where the victim’s head was nearly severed.”

  “Yeah, I remember,” Hodge said, cocking a brow. “There’s no way I’d forget that incident. I still cannot figure out how in the hell someone could throw a punch that hard. The whole damn thing never made any sense. Not to mention how several witnesses reported seeing the suspect vanish into thin air, and that he looked like Aquaman.”

  “You mean the actor Jason Momoa?” said Manuel.

  Hodge nodded. “Yeah, that’s his name. My niece has the biggest crush on that guy,” he said, rolling his eyes. “The walls of her bedroom are plastered with his posters. Of course, our suspect is obviously not the actor. I think everyone in the bar was tripping on acid that night.”

  Manuel smirked. “You could be right, Captain. So, you thinking the case with Ms. McCain could be cult related?”

  “It’s a possibility,” Hodge replied. “At this rate, nothing would surprise me. That’s why I want you and Perkins on this one. You two are already familiar with all the homeless murders, including the other gruesome homicides that still remain a mystery, so I want you guys in charge of this investigation.”

  “I’d hope so,” Manuel simply said. “I’ve been working my sister’s case since I joined the force. Now that Carla’s body has been discovered, and with Ms. McCain’s cooperation, I might actually get a break in the case.”

  “Let’s keep our fingers crossed,” Hodge grumbled as he got to his feet. “All these unsolved
murders are starting to test my sanity.”

  As Manuel stood, he extended his hand. “Thanks, Captain. I’ll do my best.”

  Hodge took Manuel’s hand in a firm shake. “I’m counting on it. I want to put a closure to all this chaos. I’ll expect you first thing in the morning... and sober.”

  “Will do, Captain.” Manuel chuckled a little and said, “Have you contacted Perkins yet?”

  “I just came from his place,” Hodge replied. “And actually, it was perfect timing. His wife Missy had just made a homemade peach cobbler.” He rubbed his stomach. “You should think about settling down yourself, unless you’re planning on living the rest of your life as a bachelor.”

  “Oh, I’m pretty content, Captain.” Manuel chortled. “Besides, Ira keeps me company.”

  The sounds of nails clipping across the hardwood floor caught their attention. As they turned around, Ira came bailing down the hallway, only to melt into a puddle of wagging tail and excited whines as Manuel called out to her.

  Hodge bent down as the dog rushed to him. “Keep ’em in line, old girl,” he said as he looked up at Manuel and smiled. After a few moments of petting Ira, he stood straight and patted Manuel on the shoulder. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, Detective. I’ll see you and Frank bright and early.”

  “Sure thing, Captain.”

  “By the way,” Hodge said. “We need to keep a lid on the werewolf thing. If we tell people what Ms. McCain said, after all this is over with, she could end up wearing a straitjacket in a padded cell, if you know what I mean.”

  Manuel nodded. “Yeah, I get what you’re saying. I wasn’t planning on relaying that information to anyone.”

  As soon as Hodge left, Manuel grabbed his phone and initiated a call. While he waited for Perkins to answer, he poured some bourbon into a glass and slugged it down.

  “Hey, partner,” Frank said as he answered Manuel’s call. “I take it Captain filled you in on the recent homicides at the Salem Cemetery.”

  “Yeah,” Manuel grunted. “As a matter of fact, he just left.”

 

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