by Anne B. Cole
Table of Contents
SOULS ENDURE
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
SOULS ENDURE
The Souls Trilogy Book Three
ANNE B. COLE
SOUL MATE PUBLISHING
New York
SOULS ENDURE
Copyright©2016
ANNE B. COLE
Cover Design by Fiona Jayde
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.
Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
Published in the United States of America by
Soul Mate Publishing
P.O. Box 24
Macedon, New York, 14502
ISBN: 978-1-68291-259-1
www.SoulMatePublishing.com
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
To my Family, Friends, and Students
I learn something from you each and every day.
Thank you for inspiring me by asking,
‘What If?’ and ‘Why?’
Acknowledgements
I extend my love and appreciation to the countless number of people who have supported and helped me along The Souls Trilogy journey. Especially to:
My husband and three teenage children who support me every step of the way.
My editor, Char, from Soul Mate Publishing.
My critique partners; Deborah, Joan, Susan, DeAnn, and Bethany who give me honest advice, suggestions, and numerous corrections.
My cover artist, Fiona Jayde, who turns ideas into the most amazing covers.
My preschool co-workers, friends, and readers who encourage me to keep writing.
Hugs to all,
Anne
Prologue
Thunder rumbled in the distance. Raindrops speckled the sidewalk, disappearing within seconds in the heat of late August. The homeless man adjusted his grip on the dagger which remained concealed in the folds of his new jacket.
He knew what he had been commanded to do.
The man who gave him the jacket had relayed instructions without words. Despite the pain he would inflict, his actions were necessary for the protection of the young couple.
He would complete the task without question.
His gaze left the courthouse doors and landed on the gaping hole in his tattered sneakers. He tightened his fingers on the jeweled handle of the dagger. With his free hand, he patted the wad of bills in his pocket.
“A bottle of gin, the good stuff. Plenty left over for new shoes and a pair of socks.” He contemplated which he’d buy first.
The click of a door opening snapped his attention to his task. He watched the young couple exit the building, hand in hand. Their happiness depended on his success.
Cut them.
The two crossed into the grassy lawn, heading to a bench.
“Young and in love. Oblivious. Your destiny has been placed in my hands.” He stood, determined to follow through.
He watched them sit on the bench and embrace, completely absorbed in each other. When the young man took her hand in his, she leaned in for a kiss.
He eased off the sidewalk, into the spongy grass with silent footsteps.
Cut them.
The words echoed through his head.
He adjusted the dagger in his hand, curling his fingers around the handle. Just a few more yards to go. His need to complete the task grew so powerful, the lines between right and wrong blurred. With eyes fixed on the couple, he quickened his pace.
The girl startled at another clap of thunder. He paused his approach and watched as the young man encircled her within strong arms. She wriggled and nestled her back against his chest.
“Tomorrow, you’ll be safe, Sam.” She sighed.
“Tomorrow, Gretta, we’ll be married and I will never, ever let you out of my sight again,” the young man promised.
She leaned into his embrace and he planted a kiss on the top of her head.
Just a few more feet.
The man adapted his advance so he would come up from behind the young man and cut them from the side. This way he could get both with one flick of the wrist and be gone before onlookers would notice.
He scanned the area. No pedestrians. Few passing cars. Nothing stood in his way. He lurched forward with the dagger low. His foot twisted over something in the grass and he fell to the ground.
Before he could get to his knees, a russet colored squirrel sank its teeth into his hand. He cried out and shook the vicious varmint off. Both the squirrel and the dagger were flung to the grass.
Failure is not acceptable.
Ignoring the pain, he crawled to the blade. The squirrel leapt in between him and the weapon, bristled its fur, and let out a high-pitched chatter.
“Sir? Are you okay?” The young man’s voice sounded from behind.
His sight remained on the dagger and what he needed to do.
He swatted the squirrel and wrapped his fingers around the jeweled handle. A flash of lightning lit the darkened sky. The moment he turned to slash the couple, his hand emptied. He spread his fingers out and closed them again in astonishment.
“Did you drop something, sir?” the girl asked.
His fingers dove frantically into the lush grass.
Gone. The dagger had disappeared.
A streak of lightning danced across the clouds, followed by booming thunder.
He lifted his head and looked into the faces of two strangers.
How did I get here?
“Gretta, can you look around for whatever he dropped? I think he’s disoriented.” A young man helped him to his feet.
They guided him to the bench, but he refused to sit. He left them, returned to his corner, and picked up his cardboard sign.
Chapter 1
Wedded Bliss
Gretta
Grabbing a pot of coffee, Gretta Daggett walked from the kitchen of Dino’s Diner. Two plates of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast warmed her forearm. The tinkling of the bells on the front door caught her attention and she watched a couple enter.
“Good morning, please take any seat. I’ll be right with you.” She welcomed the strangers and returned her focus on her favorite two customers. “More coffee?” She slid plates of food in front of Betty and Patrice.
“Thank you, dear,” Betty replied.
Gretta filled the cup with steaming black coffee. She watched the elderly woman scrutinize her food, wondering what fault she would find in her nephew’s cooking.
“Nick burned my bacon again.”
“Take mine,” Patrice offered. The two women exchanged plates.
Gretta sighed in relief, not wanting a confrontation between Betty and Nick. Patrice had confided to her the fact Betty silently owned the little restaurant. Betty’s nephew, Nick, ran the diner and held the position of head cook. The cranky woman came in for breakfast every morning to make sure the restaurant ran to her liking. Patrice, being at least twenty years younger than Betty, also came in every day. To see Nick.
Bringing the pot of coffee with her, Gretta headed to the booth where the attractive couple sat, wondering if they were travelers since she had never seen them in the two months she had been working at Dino’s. The man gazed at the menu while the woman impatiently tapped the edge of her upturned coffee cup.
“Coffee?” Gretta smiled at the beautiful strawberry-blonde, who appeared completely out of place. Her exquisite designer clothing marked her as a woman who’d prefer having a fancy latte instead of regular coffee. When the woman narrowed her eyes at the nearly empty pot in her hand, she quickly spoke up. “I have more brewing in the kitchen. I’ll be right back.”
The man raised his hand to stop her. “This is fine. I’ll have some now, please.” He looked over the top of his menu at the woman. “Darling, they make homemade cinnamon rolls, your favorite.”
Gretta filled his cup. “The cook bakes them every morning.”
Red manicured nails grazed her hand, touching her heirloom ring.
“She has my ring,” the woman accused.
“I believe you’re right,” the man interrupted. He took his wife’s hand firmly in his own and kissed the back of it. His eyes wandered apologetically to Gretta’s nametag. Keeping his lady’s hand in his, his aqua eyes had penetrated Gretta’s before moving to the woman’s fingers, still clutched in his grasp. “It’s a lovely piece. Simple, yet unique.” He turned his hand over to reveal a ring on his wife’s finger. “Yes, my dear. Yours is very similar to Gretta’s.” He moved his focus away from his wife’s hand. “Did your husband give you the ring?”
Gretta’s heart lurched. Is her ring cursed too? The woman’s perfect, dark red garnet glimmered. Unlike hers, which had a tiny chip in the stone, this ring appeared flawless and the etching in the gold setting seemed new instead of worn from time. She touched her old ring and adjusted the stone to properly rest on her finger instead of leaning against her pinky.
“Your ring is beautiful. I see the similarities. My grandmother gave me this ring. It has been in my family for almost two hundred years. May I ask where you purchased yours?” Gretta wondered how this newer ring could be so much like her own.
The woman twisted her hand free from her husband’s grasp and placed it in her lap out of Gretta’s view.
“I had it made it in Europe when a thief stole my wife’s jewelry,” the man explained and took in a deep breath. “I can nearly taste those cinnamon rolls. We’ll take two and fresh coffee for my wife.”
Gretta hurried to the kitchen door. When she passed Betty and Patrice’s table, Patrice held up an empty pitcher of cream.
I know I filled the creamer ten minutes ago. “I’ll get more for you, Patrice.” Gretta entered the kitchen where Nick slammed the food pantry door closed and ran a hand through his thinning brown hair. He opened the walk-in refrigerator and propped the door ajar with a sack of potatoes.
“I need two hot cinnamon rolls, please.” When he didn’t respond, she followed him into the walk-in. “Looking for something, Nick?” She grabbed a carton of cream and began filling a pitcher.
“Two rolls, I heard. There’s a half dozen in the warmer. Can you plate them for me?” He continued his frantic search among the shelves of food. “I know I put it in a safe place before I left last night,” he muttered to himself.
“Sure. I’ll get them.” Gretta walked out of the cooler and into the warmth of the kitchen. She lifted a fresh pot of coffee and with the cream, returned to the dining room.
“How are the eggs, ladies?” Gretta placed the cream beside Patrice’s empty cup.
“Delicious, thank you dear,” Patrice replied with a smile. She poured a drop of tea and then filled the cup with cream until it overflowed.
“The eggs are dry, the bacon is burned, and my toast is cold. What is Nick’s problem this morning?” Betty grumbled.
“I’m sorry. Nick seems to have misplaced something. He’s searching the walk-in cooler. Do you want me to make you another breakfast?” Gretta offered, not wanting to bother Nick.
“No, no, dear. I’ve eaten worse. Misplaced something, you say?” She reached into her purse, pulled out a cell phone, and began tapping it.
Patrice bent to the table and began lapping her cream.
“Ah ha. He didn’t make the deposit last night. I bet he misplaced the money from the register.” Betty sat back in her chair and sipped her coffee.
Patrice licked cream off her lips. “Don’t be so hard on Nick. I’ll help him look for it.” She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand and smoothed a stray hair into place before walking into the kitchen with an extra sway of her hips.
Gretta stifled a laugh and watched Betty grin. Both knew Patrice would be more of a distraction than help in finding the moneybag.
Meeting Betty on the day she married Sam had been a blessing. Gretta thought back, remembering how they had stopped at Dino’s for dinner. They had no place to live, little funds, and couldn’t return home since the curse on her ring could harm the people they loved. At the time, none of it mattered because they had each other. The moment they united in marriage, Sam became protected from the curse.
Betty had waited on them and refused to give them a bill when she heard they’d married earlier the same day. She offered the little apartment above her garage for them to live in and a job at the diner for Gretta.
Eight weeks of married life had quickly made up for the long summer estranged from Sam. Despite working part time jobs and taking a few college classes online, they had found vast amounts of free time to spend together wrapped in wedded bliss.
Gretta blushed when her thoughts wandered to last night’s di
nner of hot dogs and chips. After just two bites, Sam nibbled on her neck and decided he liked the taste of her better. Gretta had pushed the curse into the back of her head, until today when the couple asked about her ring.
Taking a deep breath, she focused on her job and filled the beautiful lady’s coffee. Receiving a glare instead of a thank you, she quickly headed to the kitchen for the cinnamon rolls. After plating two of the biggest ones, she reached for the squeeze bottle of icing and caught a glimpse of Patrice pulling Nick by the hand out of the cooler.
“We’re gonna search the basement for a while, Gretta. Tell Betty I’m sure we will find it in an hour or two,” Patrice called halfway down the steps.
Gretta smiled, well aware there would be little searching in the basement. The jingle of the bells on the outside door let her know she had more customers and an occupied cook. With a sigh she carried the cinnamon rolls to the dining area.
A single customer had entered the diner and he joined the couple, sitting next to the lady. Gretta thought it odd since strangers in the diner were very few and far between.
“Hello, welcome to Dino’s. Can I get you something to drink?” she directed her question to the newcomer. His handsome features appeared less chiseled than the other man’s and a bit friendlier.
“No, thank you. I’m afraid we cannot stay,” the man announced. The lady narrowed her eyes at him and opened her mouth to protest. “I apologize, Di. I know Mother’s death is a shock to you. We need to return home immediately.”
Gretta’s heart dropped in sadness. The loss of her own father continued to pain her. “I’m so sorry. I’ll wrap these for you and get fresh coffee to go.”
The man blocked Gretta’s view of the lady, but her husband nodded. She headed to the kitchen, boxed the food, and placed lids on three coffees. They stood at the door when she returned.
