Beyond the Garden

by S. Y. Thompson

  SUMMARY

  In the beginning, god created man, but what about woman? Lilith was created at that same moment yet cursed to walk the earth for an eternity, never allowed the peace of death. Throughout the ages, she has longed for an end. Finally, a message reaches her that there exists the instrument of her demise. This single-minded pursuit of death leads her back to the beginning where she discovers that not all is as she believed.

  A group of self-appointed guardians, the haimia, is determined to keep Lilith from reentering the garden. They aren’t above killing anyone to realize their goal, including the one woman Lilith realizes she can’t live without. Despite her love for Dana Reed, Lilith is still resolute in her quest. In the end, she must decide between life and love. Love has come before and has never lasted. Lilith has no reason to believe this time will be any different.

  BEYOND THE GARDEN

  BEYOND THE GARDEN

  S.Y. THOMPSON

  SAPPHIRE BOOKS

  SALINAS, CALIFORNIA

  Beyond The Garden

  Copyright © 2015 by S.Y. Thompson. All rights reserved.

  ISBN EPUB - 978-1-943353-02-6

  This is a work of fiction - names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without written permission of the publisher.

  Editor - Heather Flournoy

  Book Designer - LJ Reynolds

  Cover Designer - Michelle Brodeur

  Sapphire Books

  Salinas, CA 93912

  www.sapphirebooks.com

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Edition – July 2015

  This and other Sapphire Books titles can be found at

  www.sapphirebooks.com

  Dedication

  For my family, for supporting my writing and encouraging me to reach for the brass ring.

  Acknowledgments

  I’d like to acknowledge and thank the readers, my friends and family as well as the other fiction authors who inspire me. Heartfelt gratitude always to Linda North, who is available anytime I need help brainstorming. No one is a better friend or beta. Heather Flournoy who is the best editor ever, I learn so much from you each time we run through the process. Thanks also to Isabella at Sapphire Books for taking a chance on me.

  “Once, eons ago, I possessed the temerity to resist the will of man.

  My Creator discarded me, easily, completely and irrevocably.

  I have walked a path of excruciating loneliness, seeking the solace

  of an end to this unwanted immortal existence that shall continue

  for as long as the Earth endures. Some call me the child killer.

  Others call me temptress or demon. In truth, I am none of these.

  I am the first woman. I am sorrow. I am Lilith.”

  ~S. Y. Thompson~

  Lilith of Plymouth Colony, thou hast been tried and pronounced guilty for the crime of practicing witchcraft.”

  Lilith remained silent, watching the white-haired man as he proclaimed her fate. Someone in the community had accused her of being in league with Satan, of being his consort. Lilith had in fact known Lucifer many centuries before, and he was not what these peasants believed him to be. If she thought educating the superstitious inhabitants of the New World would prevent the torture soon to ensue, she might have made the attempt. Instead, Lilith kept her peace as a villager with dank, lice-ridden hair strode forward carrying a torch. He looked up at her and winked before holding the brand against the kindling. In 1692, witch trials were common and a sham, often a poor excuse for a person to exact revenge upon an offending party or to explain the especially harsh winters.

  Cotton Mather scowled at her over the heads of the villagers. “I hereby impose the sentence of burning at the stake. Thy ashes shall be interred in unconsecrated ground and sprinkled with salt. May God have mercy upon your soul.”

  She clenched her jaws tightly together, holding in the screams by the thinnest of margins as her flesh began to sear. Lilith’s long, midnight tresses singed from the heat. As the flames drew ever closer, she pinned the minister of the Plymouth colony with her Armageddon blue gaze. She could see the sinister delight in his eyes, the perverse enjoyment of authorizing the fiery death he commanded. Countless times since she’d arrived in the New World, Lilith had watched as he witnessed these gruesome scenes. Mather never appeared off-put by the torment he wrought. Rather, she could sense the sick fascination he harbored.

  Lilith blamed herself for her current situation. She should have hastened away from here when this madness first began. No stranger to the cruelties of man, she should have instantly perceived this final, tragic outcome. Life in the Americas was harsh and it was far easier to blame witches for crops that yielded nothing than for the villagers to admit to their own inadequacies. In lieu of the rather wise idea to abscond from the area immediately, Lilith had stayed.

  Finally, as the roaring blaze obscured her sight of the hated villain, Lilith closed her eyes. She silently prayed that this time the Angel of Death would take her. The flames licked her skin, more scorching than any lover’s caress, though in a way she welcomed the heat. Her flesh blistered and melted as her hair ignited into a fiery halo. Somewhere, distantly, she heard Cotton Mather’s harsh cry of exuberance. His cheer joined those of the villagers. Sadness coupled with rage filled her soul.

  Once again, Lilith experienced the brutal reminder of humanity’s depravity. Her mouth opened reflexively in a futile attempt to draw breath, or in preparation of a scream. She was unsure which. Suddenly, the pain vanished and a healing glow surrounded her body. Lilith perceived strong, yet gentle arms cradling her near the likewise powerful chest. Despite the living warmth of the being that held her near, there was no heartbeat beneath her ear.

  When next she opened her eyes, Lilith found herself reclining on a bed of grass in a tree-sheltered cove. Water tumbled down a rock face not far away and crashed into a wide pool. The sounds of birds singing and water flowing caressed her senses, easing away the horrors endured only moments ago. She realized before she turned to look that the source of her rescue had stayed after securing her release. She was not alone in the sequestered place and she easily identified her celestial liberator.

  “Samael, why did you save me from the fire?” Tears threatened as she wrestled with her emotions. While she felt gratitude for his timely intervention, she was also unaccountably furious.

  The archangel silently appraised her from a few feet away. He cocked his youthful-appearing head slightly to the side and Lilith witnessed the sadness in his ancient eyes. As he knelt on one knee, with heavy wings folded, she could almost believe him merely a blond, curly-haired youth who happened upon her in the forest. Then he spoke and the gravelly tones of a voice seldom used destroyed the image.

  “Why did you not translocate, Lilith? You could have rejected the inferno without my aid. I know the sorcerer, Merlin, gave you this ability long ago. Do you somehow believe you deserved this punishment?”

  It had been decades since last she encountered Samael and it took a moment for her ears to translate the old tongue. The language was no longer heard upon the Earth, but Lilith adapted quickly and easily. She responded in kind.

  “Perhaps.” The word was gentle, reflective. Then her anger surged forth. “Or perhaps the good minister would proclaim my spirit took possession of another had I acted as you suggest. An innocent would take my place upon the pyr
e. Tell me that you obscured my disappearance.”

  “There are no innocents among mankind, Lilith, but no one will take your place. Of this you may be certain.”

  Lilith turned back toward the water, breathing deeply as she attempted to dispel the horrible memories of burning alive. The sight of calm waters helped soothe the remembered heat. Not expecting the discussion to continue, she started slightly when Samael spoke.

  “You comprehend that you cannot die. You would have suffered unspeakable torment only to awaken again once your body recovered. Your actions make no sense. Please explain.”

  Lilith considered the question. Samael had existed for at least as long as she had. He’d been the first being she encountered after her banishment from the Garden. Yet, for all those centuries interacting with humans, in his somewhat limited fashion, he still couldn’t fathom their intricacies. Rather than explain, she seized upon the first part of his comment.

  “Not so, if you collected my soul.”

  Samael’s head drew back and his body tensed in sudden wariness. She felt his resistance to the idea as surely as if it had originated from within. “We have spoken of this before. You know it is forbidden.”

  “Are you not the Angel of Death, the vaunted Archangel Samael? Are you not tasked with relieving suffering?”

  “You know that I am, but not for you. Our Lord has decreed—”

  “Ha,” Lilith spat. “The same Lord who removed his own wife’s name from his written word? And what became of Asherah? Have you seen or heard of her since?”

  Samael looked away in a manner that suggested he knew something but would not say. “I cannot help you, Lilith.”

  He stood to indicate the topic closed, spreading glorious, snow-white wings. Lilith couldn’t help but admire the thick fullness that arched above his head and swept down to the grass beneath his feet. Samael wore only trousers to display his lean, powerful body. He carried a weapon strapped to his waist, the flaming sword Azrael. Currently, it resided safely in a sheath. She felt relieved he’d chosen this form in which to effect her rescue. He could just as easily assume the guise of a cloaked and cowled figure carrying a scythe, or a monster with cloven hooves. Looking up at his ever-youthful visage, with sunlight haloed about his golden hair, Lilith tried once more.

  “You’ve defied orders before.”

  Samael smiled gently, the expression reminding her of that first meeting. Newly created and exiled from the Garden of Eden, Lilith had not truly understood his dangerous nature. The smile had deceived her then, but no longer. She ceased her futile attempts and turned her gaze back to the calming water. She heard his wings extend and expected him to take flight. Instead, he continued.

  “Where will you go now?”

  Fair question, for all that she did not have an answer. “Perhaps I shall sleep for a time.”

  “You miss so much when you do that, Lilith. The world can be an amazing place, were you to take the chance.”

  “Easy words to speak for someone with a purpose, Samael. I am but a human who cannot die and I have seen much that cannot be unseen. Even though I have slept decades at a time, I always awaken to find the world unchanged. Men hold ever more fiercely to their women, restricting their freedoms while warring over a patch of ground.”

  “You speak truth, Lilith. Men are evil. Would that Yahweh had let me take every soul during the Great Flood, but then you would be alone.”

  Lilith looked up at him again, feeling the moisture track down her cheeks. “I am always alone, Samael. You know that better than anyone.”

  “Sleep. When you awaken, perhaps you will have discovered a purpose.”

  Chapter One

  Lillian Primus sat quietly in the comfortable leather chair. Her elbows rested upon the rich mahogany desk’s surface, her fingers steepled together. Solemn blue eyes rested upon Sophie Gruber as she paced, granting the woman her full attention. In addition to listening to Sophie’s every word, Lillian inspected the energy shimmering around her body. Sophie’s essence glowed like the light from an incandescent bulb, invisible to everyone but Lil.

  “I really think this girl will be very important to our cause.”

  Despite the tattoos and the hard-edged veneer, Sophie possessed a tender heart, which she kept carefully disguised. Judging by her aura, Lil believed her. Still, this latest rant didn’t make sense. Sophie had full discretion to decide whom to bring into the fold, at least in the European Sector.

  “Then why have you not already indoctrinated her?”

  “Huh?” Sophie appeared confused for a moment. Then her expression cleared. “You really should start talking like a real person, Lilith. Sometimes I can hardly understand what you’re saying.”

  “I go by Lillian here, remember? Not Lilith. I’ll rephrase. Are you asking my permission to mark her?”

  “Well, yeah. I mean, I know you like to personally oversee anyone you see as especially important to the female cause.”

  Sophie made a gesture indicating air quotes over “female.” Her tone seemed slightly condescending and Lil’s proverbial hackles rose in response. Just as quickly, Lil realized that Sophie still felt a little silly discussing the fate of a human child. She hadn’t been with Lil’s crew long and at thirty-four, Sophie was the youngest. Her spiked blond hair shimmered in the manor’s artificial lighting, illustrating one of the reasons Lil had chosen her to begin with. Sophie’s looks allowed her to infiltrate and fit in with the modern crowd.

  “Why do you believe this girl is so exceptional?”

  Lil watched Sophie’s expression freeze for a second as she considered the question. “I don’t know. Just a feeling?”

  Her energy seemed to waver and Lil sensed Sophie’s insecurity. While she really believed the girl fit their criteria, it was clear that Sophie wasn’t sure how important the child would be to humanity. Lil maintained the silence between them, waiting for Sophie to tell her the true source for her requested meeting. She didn’t have long to wait.

  Sophie drew a hand through her hair, disheveling the locks even more. She blew out a frustrated breath before finally speaking her mind, her German accent growing stronger. “Fine, I’m just not sure I’m the right person for this job. When you first approached me, I thought marking pre-pubescent girls as lesbians was a wonderful idea…”

  “Is that what you think we do?” Lil was aware her body had grown still and her own countenance had adopted an inscrutable cast. A rock-hard kernel of doubt took up residence in her stomach. Perhaps she had chosen poorly after all when she took Sophie into the house.

  “Isn’t it?”

  “No, it is not.”

  Lil pushed away from the desk, her knuckles against the wood grain. The connection with the natural fibers helped settle her temper. Reluctantly, she broke the contact and walked toward the full bar in the corner of her library. Lil took a moment to pour two fingers of aged Cognac into a glass from the crystal decanter. She sipped the fiery beverage, allowing the heat to burn its way into her stomach as her eyes slid over the spines of shelved and ancient first editions. She’d read all of the books, many of them more than once, and often found solace in the written words. Finally centered, she turned back to face Sophie.

  “We search the world for those who will help shape a better future for women. The majority of them are in fact lovers of women, however not all. If you really believe I care only for turning women away from men, then you do not understand your purpose here and I do not need you.”

  Abruptly, Sophie’s energy shifted from bright white to pale blue. The force rippled in obvious concern. Sophie had survived an alcoholic mother and an endless parade of foster homes. Rejection didn’t sit well with her, but she tended to react in fear rather than anger. Lil could see the stirrings of that anxiety. Satisfied that she had the younger woman’s attention, Lil continued with the lesson.

  “Mata Hari was not a lesbian, though she was quite happy to utilize her feminine wiles against a woman. Queen Elizabeth, the first
one, illustrated the greatness of a woman ruler. Rosa Parks began the modern Civil Rights movement by refusing to give up her seat on a bus to a white man. All of these women and more were chosen by those who have worked for me throughout the ages.”

  Lil had taken on this self-assigned role as her purpose in never-ending life after awakening from her encounter with Cotton Mather in 1692. It wasn’t the first time she had marked a woman with her kiss. Jehanne d’Arc had that honor before her great sleep. After a hundred year hibernation, Lil awakened to realize she could assist in balancing the power between men and women by continuing in her previous endeavor. She had the ability to sense when a young child would grow into a strong, independent woman who would aid in this cause. Her kiss, chaste though it was, imbued them with the will to realize their potential.

  “What about Sappho?” Sophie’s voice trembled, but Lil respected her for standing her ground.

  “I’ll not coddle you with tales of a woman-loving poet. The question here is whether you are capable of doing your job or not. Are you? Or should I wipe your memory, take the gifts I’ve granted and return you to Berlin? You can go back to living on the streets, begging for a handout.” Lil’s voice had grown stone hard.

  Rather than respond, Sophie’s gaze slid away toward the corner of the room. Dark shadows lurked there, but Lil easily made out the golden orbs. No doubt Sophie saw them also because Lil heard her nervous swallow. Lil found it amusing that she clearly wondered if termination from employment would involve that slightly dangerous entity. Lil did not intend to involve Pravde, but Sophie couldn’t know that.