Shadow of the Sun

by Laura Kreitzer

CHAPTER 30: DEATH IS ONLY THE BEGINNING

  There was a moment when I knew my life was over. And then it passed. Or maybe I passed on. There was no pain anymore, no horrible ache in my chest from the death of my mother or wounds on my head, or the searing pain of my opened wound. It was like my mother has healed me all over again. I was okay. More than okay. I was fantastic. Incredible. Whole.

  It was silent. Ridiculously peaceful. I stood in a hallway. I stared down at my clothes. Where had this come from? I wondered as I lifted the silk blue dress, which draped over my body like extremely smooth satin. The hall I stood in appeared infinite—the white walls, like silky curtains, expanded for miles or maybe forever. My bare feet moved over the soft ground—like clouds. Was I in heaven? My heart didn’t beat the normal pounding against my rib cage. It was just as quiet as this place. Realization hit. Great, I’d kicked the bucket.

  “I’m dead,” I whispered to nobody.

  “Not yet, beautiful angel.”

  I spun around excitedly, looking for the culprit to that earth-shattering, beautiful voice. “Mom?”

  “Yes, sweetie. I’m here.”

  Again, I did a three-sixty as I searched for her face. I’d lost her twice and now I could hear her voice. This was heaven; it had to be! “Where are you?”

  “Right here.” A warm hand touched my shoulder.

  I whirled around. Abelie stared at me with bright-green eyes. She barely had time to take a breath—if you even breathed in this place—before I seized her and hugged her to my body. She returned my embrace just as fiercely.

  “Where are we?” I wondered aloud against her hair. “Are we in heaven? Because I’m pretty sure this looks and feels like heaven.”

  She backed away and cradled my cheeks in her hands. She inspected my face as her eyes devoured every last inch. “This is the place between,” she told me. “Our Timeless Oblivion.”

  Her face was full of motherly love, something I always saw with my adoptive mother, but this was different, more pure. My whole life I wondered what would happen when I saw my real mother, and then I had lost her. But there she was, right in front of me. She loved me; I could see it in the set of her eyes. It felt real, wonderful, to be loved so completely by a mother—my mother. Now I knew what it would be like. It was complete and fulfilling. There were no words to truly describe it.

  It was a Herculean effort for me to tear my eyes away from her, but I had to look at this place one more time. The amount of white was blinding. Once again, I glanced down at the ground. It could be clouds. The white fluffy surface was solid, but it was soft and felt pleasant between my toes, like the softest grains of warm sand. I couldn’t describe it. The words wouldn’t make sense: “It feels like a cloud.”

  I gazed back at her and waited for an explanation. Though I was thrilled—more than thrilled—to see her, it was difficult for me to believe she was real. When she stayed silent, I asked, “And what do you mean by ‘Timeless Oblivion’?”

  “Between mortality and immortality—life and death.” She laughed, the sound whimsical. She twirled away from me and danced around like a little girl. For the first time I noticed she had on an identical dress, except it was a vivid red. At each twist it turned a different color. She was magnificent with her long, curly brown hair and her tall, slim body.

  “I don’t understand,” I said, confused. “Are you sure I’m not dead?” I mean, it made sense—my being dead and all—considering I was hit with a spell and a branch hit my cranium. Plus, the lack of my heartbeat could have also been a sign.

  “You are.” She smiled back at me.

  “But you just said—” I was dead. What was the point of the word “immortality” if it wasn’t as timeless as everyone perceived? I had things I needed to do, people who I wanted to save. How was I supposed to do that in the Timeless Oblivion? Maybe this was what it meant to be timeless after all.

  The peaceful feeling vanished.

  Aiden, I lamented. Hadn’t he lost enough for an eternity? And Andrew—this would crush him. And my family. . . .

  “Immortality doesn’t come without consequences,” Abelie clarified. She didn’t seem worried about my state of . . . oblivion? I was already an angel—an immortal. Wasn’t I?

  Abelie glanced at my bewildered expression, and her smile dissolved into a frown.

  “So,” I finally said, “if I’m ‘dead,’ how does that translate into being in between mortality and immortality?” What was with the angels and their cryptic words? You didn’t know if you should take things literally or look deeper for a metaphor.

  An easy smile crawled across her face. “You’re becoming an Archangel. Your abilities go beyond what any of us have ever seen.” She moved closer to me, her dress back to the rich ruby color. “When we, the Senza Tempo, became immortal, we all had to prove ourselves worthy. The first step was death.”

  “What?” I gasped. They never told me that.

  “It was different for us. When we went through the process, we didn’t know that death was the price we would pay. Not until we came here, and then it was too late. None of us remembered afterward. I didn’t remember—I just woke up and knew I was different.” She shrugged dispassionately. “But now that I’m here, my memories restored, I know. I remember. We each made sacrifices to prove our virtue.” Her voice was calm.

  “Sacrifices?”

  “Each one of us endured our own personal test.” She looked thoughtful. “When I was here last, I was given the option to return to life as an immortal and lose Aiden, or to truly die so he could live.”

  “And what happened?”

  “I gave up my life for him.” She smiled. “I loved him too deeply to be selfish. What I didn’t realize was that was the test. Actually, I didn’t even know I was there to prove my worth.”

  “And . . . did everyone make it?”

  “All but two.” Her facial expression didn’t even flinch.

  How could she speak like this was all just a normal everyday conversation? She was . . . and I was . . . It just didn’t make any sense. This wasn’t Heaven or Earth. For a second, I was going to ask her what I would have to sacrifice, or what my “test” might be, but I decided not to. I didn’t want to know. I figured I would find out eventually. I shuddered at the thought of what else I might have to sacrifice. Even as all my thoughts piled on top of each other, for some reason I was able to thrust them all to the side and be content that I stood in the presence of my mother, Abelie. The one person I thought I had lost forever. Did this mean that she would come back? That she wasn’t dead after all? If this was the Timeless Oblivion she knew before, and the other angels came back from here, couldn’t she do it again? The peaceful feeling returned in full measure. Maybe I could have her back.

  Abelie continued talking without noticing my internal musings. “We were all here at one point, lost and confused. A young woman guided us through the Timeless Oblivion.”

  “Guided?”

  She held my hand as she walked me across the soft cloud-ground. “Death is only the beginning, Gabriella. Sometimes we need someone to guide us through our difficult times.” Her eyes filled with an indescribable sadness. “And you have been through too many difficult times already.”

  We were silent as we floated over the bleach-white ground.

  I broke the silence. “Will you come back to life?” I asked.

  “No,” she barely whispered. “I’ll go on to the Ethereal Eternity.”

  I put my hand on her arm—her very real, incredibly warm arm. I didn’t want to leave. If she couldn’t go back with me then I wanted to stay here with her. It was too much for her to be taken from me again—I just couldn’t go through that loss for the third time. She looked down at my hand, put hers on top of mine, and smiled dejectedly at me.

  “What’s the Ethereal Eternity?” I wondered. Was that heaven?

  “Where your journey will end—” She paused, and her eyebrows knitted together like she wasn’t sure she should say
anymore. She took in a deep breath and let it out. The words “everlasting death” were nothing more than a sigh on her lips, but I heard it clearly. “They thought it would be best if I was the one to be your first guide on your journey,” she continued. “But it looks as though you won’t need much guidance while you’re here, seeing as how you’re already divine.”

  Journey. Andrew told me about the Illuminator’s journey, but he didn’t know any specifics. But now I knew that it was a journey to a true, final death. I gulped.

  “Who’s ‘they’?” I spluttered.

  “The Guardian Spirits,” she replied simply.

  This was all so confusing. “What now? And what kind of sacrifice will I have to make?” I asked reluctantly.

  She smiled again. “Haven’t you sacrificed enough?”

  I nodded. “More than I care to remember.” I caught sight of her aqua green eyes, which were full of tears. Real, human tears. “They’re not gold,” I barely mouthed, reaching up to touch them. They were so real—she was so real.

  “I’m not an immortal anymore. I have no body, only a soul. That’s all that is left of me. What you see—what you feel—is an illusion, but I’m still here.” She cupped my cheeks between her palms. “It’s still me, and I still love you. I’m here for you.” The heartwarming look on her face was enough to prove she loved me more than her own life.

  “No more sacrifices?” I double-checked, even though everlasting death seemed pretty sacrifice-y to me.

  She shook her head. “Not any more. You have given of yourself to protect those around you. You have sacrificed your life and placed others before yourself. You don’t need to be tested. You’re worthy. You’ve always been worthy. Why do you think your three angels awoke in the plane?”

  “Andrew said it was because I was worth saving,” I admitted.

  “Exactly,” she agreed. “They were here, in this Timeless Oblivion, waiting for you. The Ladies of Light had bound them to the Earth when they turned them human and murdered them. The Guardian Spirits refused to let them continue on. They had a destiny—a purpose. You were that purpose.

  “When Lucia was turned human by the Ladies of Light and murdered, the Ladies didn’t realize the problem it would cause. First it was Ehno who lashed out, and then Andrew followed to protect his friend, his brother. The Ladies of Light were fed up, angry at their efforts being thwarted. So they tried to eliminate their problems permanently. In their efforts to kill the entire Halo of the Sun, the Guardian Spirits fought back and refused the Halos and the Guardians entry to the Ethereal Eternity or the Timeless Oblivion. The Guardian Spirits turned them to Shadows, creatures that would fight back against the Ladies of Light and could never be killed. The Ladies of Light altered the other angels’ minds to fight back against the Shadows—turning some of the Shadows into brutal beings after fighting many wars.

  “When the prophecy came about, the Ladies of Light erased pages of Zola’s words to prevent the others from knowing what they did—what they truly were. They didn’t destroy it all because they needed the angels to have hope in them. Little did they know that the Illuminator would come in the form of a human—an innocent, beautiful, human child. Aiden and I were clever. We beat them at their own game; we had seen pages of the prophecy that no one else knew about. We knew there was an assassin, the Soul Stalker, and we knew you were in trouble.

  “Then the Shadows found out about you. They thought the prophecy was about them, since they are the dark ones. But they were wrong—it was about the Ladies of Light. The name ‘Illuminator’ was chosen because you will bring light to those who are in shadow—not to kill them. Of course, the Ladies of Light already knew this, and all I could think about was saving you. Our only choice was to turn you into a mortal—which is why you’re here now.” She paused, watching my reaction. I urged her on with a flick of my wrist.

  “There will be no tests, no sacrifices. You’re the Darkness Illuminator, and your journey has already begun,” she concluded.

  “Does that mean you will come back until it’s over?”

  “No.” she almost spat the word as if she was furious about giving me that answer. “I wish I could.”

  I hugged her to my chest, feeling every inch of her. “Will I remember any of this?” I whispered in her ear, repeating her words in my head, None of them remembered afterward. I didn’t remember—I just woke up and knew I was different.

  “I’m afraid not,” she admitted.

  I was jerked away. A jolt of electricity flooded through my body. Through my blue dress an even brighter, electric blue haze covered my skin. I looked like a blueberry. If I started to blow up like that girl in the Chocolate Factory . . . Another shock shot through me. It hurt, and I put my hand over my heart. It pumped once in my chest before going still.

  “What’s happening?” I shouted. Again, my heart tried to start its jagged beating in my chest and failed.

  “Shh. It’s okay sweetie. It’s not time for you to die. You must go back. The Illuminator will not be hindered by death—not even her own. Your journey awaits you.”

  It felt as though a live wire touched every inch of my skin. My heart exploded in my chest, pumping my rich, golden blood through my once still veins. Abelie faded, and I reached out to her, trying desperately to grab her, hoping to bring her back with me.

  “I thought you said no more sacrifices?” Didn’t she know that losing her for the third time was yet another sacrifice?

  She blew me a kiss. Was that all I was going to get? I tried to cry out to her, but suddenly I was sucked out of the white place I’d like to call heaven. I tumbled through the air. I knew where I was going—to a place of punishment, torment, and misery. I was brought straight back to Earth, the embodiment of hell.

  It was dark, and I was on my back. I had a strange feeling I was in a refrigerator. It was cold. Really cold. Where was I? My fingers reached out and came in contact with something frigid and hard, like metal. Claustrophobia hit, and I reached out on all sides of me. Each time I hit freezing metal. Underneath, on top, to the sides, where my feet were—I was trapped. I screamed. It didn’t help. Where was Andrew? He wouldn’t leave me, would he?

  “Andrew?” I cried out. There was an echo.

  Nothing.

  Silence.

  Memories flooded back to me: the funeral, the limo crashing, Andrew fighting against Jeff and the Soul Stalker. The last thing I remembered was a fireball piercing my chest and a branch knocking me dead. My hand automatically reached up to my temple and then down to my side. Had the Shadows kidnapped me? Was Andrew okay? I panicked, and strings of electricity shot from my fingers, jumping from one conductive surface to the next until the wall beyond my feet burst open. Fresh air rushed in, and I inhaled a deep breath of freedom.

  Hastily, I pushed myself free of the frosty, confined space. It wasn’t any lighter outside the box-fridge, but it was warmer—much warmer. My body shook from the cold. I stilled, listening for a clue as to where I was. There was warmth on my hand, but I couldn’t see anyone.

  “Hello?” I called out.

  “I don’t have much time, Gabriella.” The voice was angelic, one I never thought I would hear again. A ghost-like shape shimmered before me, but I recognized her all the same. She was insubstantial, but her red silk dress and shiny brown hair over her shoulders came into view. She was more like a goddess than an angel.

  “Mom?” I breathed. I didn’t question my sanity because I wanted it to be real, and I refused to deny what was right before me.

  “Yes, sweetie.” She moved closer, the outline of her shining like a seraph. “Listen to me, I only have seconds. They don’t know I’m here.” Her head jerked behind her like she heard something. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her face to see for myself. Who were “they” anyway? “The other key, it will open the door to Zola,” she continued after a second. “The Ladies of Light have her locked up. She will have the answe—” There was a rush of wind and then she was gone. />
  “Mom?” I screamed. “Mom! Come back. Please. Don’t leave me!” It was silent—she had gone. I couldn’t believe it. “No! You can’t leave me again. No!” I whimpered. The room was in absolute darkness again. I dropped to my knees, grief-stricken, alone, and terrified. My mother was a ghost. What if she was trying to get back into her body and she couldn’t because she was buried beneath the Earth? The words that had haunted me flashed in my head: her soul was severed from her body. I felt ripped to shreds all over again, but it was what I needed—the pain—to remind me of her sacrifices and love for me.

  On hands and knees, I crawled on the cold, hard floor and searched for a wall. Frightened tears relentlessly leaked from beneath my eyelids. I put my hands out in front of me to determine my surroundings. My fingers encountered more metal before I flipped something over as my face landed hard against it. Several things dumped onto the ground. The noise was thunderous in the quiet space. It sounded like I just dropped a tray of silverware. Items clanged and bounced until it was silent again. Moving whatever I knocked over out of my way, I moved forward again.

  Whatever I pushed over was all over the floor—little metal instruments of some kind. It wasn’t silverware. One piece felt like scissors, and the others were bent in odd shapes. I put my weight on one hand so I could scoot the stuff away from me. As I brushed the metal pieces away, something sliced deeply into my palm when I accidently knocked it against another hard object. It sliced through my skin with no effort. I shifted my weight to my knees.

  “Ouch,” I whispered furiously. I still couldn’t see a thing. You would think immortality would give you night vision, which I thought it had after the fight outside the Divine Library, but now I wasn’t so sure.

  I sat up on my knees and gently felt with my other hand a piece of something sticking out the top of my hand. It had gone all the way through, and it hurt like hell. My fingers rubbed over the object again. Maybe it was a knife. What was I doing around knives? My fingers gently felt over the cool metal one more time. It wasn’t a knife; it was a scalpel. I would know it even in the dark. I used one all the time in the Fishbowl.

  As I held my hurt hand to my chest, I dragged myself across the floor. There was a wall only a foot away. I stood and followed it until I came across shelves. I was careful where I placed my good hand, afraid I’d cut myself again. My heart beat wildly in my chest. Here I was, in a dark room, my hand injured, and only a fuzzy memory of what happened at the cemetery.

  “Andrew?” I cried out again.

  Zilch, nada.

  Tears came quicker. I was in pain, horrific pain. My body shivered under the coldness of my skin, and at the same time, I broke out into a sweat. I was going into shock with this injury and the rest of my circumstances. I knew it would be better for me to wait until I could see what I was dealing with before I took the scalpel out. No matter what my previous medical training was, I was dying to pull it out and throw all my commonsense out the window.

  With my uninjured hand, I continued to sweep the side of the walls whenever possible. After stumbling over who knows what, I finally came across a light switch. I flipped it up, and several lights hummed to life. Why did I feel better immediately?

  Well, I did, until I got a good look at the room I was in. My back slammed against the wall as a scream threatened to escape my lips. I was in a morgue or some kind of medical facility—possibly in a lab for experiments.

  “Oh, no,” I barely whispered under my breath. Where was Andrew? Where were my angels when I needed them?

  My eyes shot from one side of the room to the other. I could easily see where I had scooted across the ground and where I had previously walked from the trail of . . . silver blood? Not golden blood. My heart hammered in my chest. What was going on? Each second my eyes zoned in on the different supplies: autopsy tables, morgue gurneys, examination lights, stainless steel equipment everywhere, and an organ scale. Acid rose in my throat. A washbasin, X-ray boxes, morgue instruments, biohazard containers. My head swam, and I felt faint. There were even organ jars sitting next to an autopsy table.

  Why was I here? What was going to happen to me? The tears were relentless. Silver tears. Where did the gold go? Did it mean something? And as my eyes finally made their way across the room, they landed on the far wall where there were several stainless steel drawers. One of the doors hung off its hinges, blackened from being electrocuted.

  I cringed away from the whole sight by putting my back as flat against the wall as possible. The pain in my hand brought me back to my predicament. I tried to shake off the terror. I had to get my act together or I wasn’t going to make it through this. My head was the first body part to move away from the wall, and the rest of my body followed. I turned to see a door and went immediately to the knob. My good hand reached out to rotate it, but nothing happened. It was locked. I needed to fix my hand before I decided to do some famous, prison-break style escape. But first, I wanted to see what was behind door number one.

  I inched toward the stainless steel doors, my good hand out stretched. I thought my heart would explode with the adrenaline. My breathing was heavy. Why did I feel so weak, but only days ago I was so powerful?

  Pull yourself together, Gabriella. Sheesh!

  I yanked the first door open. Inside was a body, the toe tag dangling. I’d seen many, many dead bodies before, but for some reason this one really bothered me. I slammed the door shut and closed my eyes, trying to shake the image from my head. This time it didn’t help, and I fell back to the floor, useless. I rocked back and forth for a few minutes, trying to regain my composure. When I finally opened my eyes, they landed immediately upon a small piece of paper with a string tied around it, lying only feet away on the ground. It looked eerily like a toe tag. I scooted toward the paper. I held it in my grasp for several seconds before I looked down at the name on it.

  Gabriella Noelle Moretti.

  “No,” I mouthed. “No.” I got to my feet, the paper still in my grasp. “No! No . . . this can’t be!” I looked down at the paper again. Nothing had changed. It was me. I was dead. I was in a real morgue—not in some prison or being held captive. I had died.

  This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. No. I shook my head.

  I dashed across the floor to where the charts were and tore through them until I found mine. There was an autopsy paper, which I quickly tossed away, and below was my death certificate, signed by the coroner. I read over it to find the cause of death. “Burn to the chest and blow to the head,” was listed. My hand automatically went to the back of my head where my hair was matted with blood. There was no wound, just the evidence of it. I slid to the ground, holding my own death certificate.

  My injured hand, with the silver blood, long forgotten, all I could think about was my family and Andrew, and how I was so close to being with my angel mother again in heaven. I yanked the scalpel from my hand and watched as my skin healed immediately, quicker than before. The power was back, the pain stronger than ever as I lifted my hand to blast the morgue door open, grabbed a lab coat, and tore out of there.

  EPILOGUE

  It was the hardest decision I ever had to make. Ultimately, I chose to conceal myself from those who thought I was deceased—which was everyone. Jeff Vittorio had made a promise, and if he thought I was dead, and the Ladies and the Soul Stalker thought I was dead, hopefully my angels would be safe. That was the only form of protection I could safely offer them. My mission was to find Zola, restore the minds to those that had been altered, and return the light to the angels who had been turned to Shadows. I could save them—I would save them all. Light, Shadow, or Soul Stalker wouldn’t stop me now. With their precious Illuminator out of the way, and Gabriella in full force, I would solve this mystery. It was what I did best.

  It had been one week since I died horribly in Italy. My body had been shipped to Oregon—shocking news to someone who died in Italy and rose from the dead on another continent—and now, through the cov
er of the morning darkness of shadows, I arrived at my burial site.

  Anyone would be curious, I told myself.

  Oregon had never looked so beautiful. As the sun rose, the fall colors were bright on the line of trees hovering on the border of the cemetery. Everything looked on fire. I watched as my grave was dug, and the tent was set up. And I watched as flower wreaths were placed around the hole that my casket would soon descend to; the same casket that would be empty of one, Gabriella. I wondered how the morgue explained my missing body, or if they explained it at all.

  As the hours ticked on, a small crowd of people gathered under the tent.

  “Invisible,” I whispered. The air around me shimmered and went still.

  As each day passed, power flourished and multiplied within me. There was something different with the electricity zinging through me, like my death had changed part of me. Invisibility was one of the new tricks I had learned from watching Ehno and Lucia. I’d been told several times before that I was powerful—special—but never in my wildest dreams did I believe I would possess abilities of this magnitude. But even I had limits—I felt drained after holding myself in a covert, concealed charm for too long. I didn’t care—it wasn’t every day that one had the opportunity to attend one’s own funeral.

  As I hovered dangerously close to my grave, I was surprised by the amount of people who had come to say their final goodbyes. Before the angels, I had practically drawn into myself and had effectively become a recluse in the past year—no one else had been around to love me besides my family. There was Adam, but we saw how embarrassingly that had ended.

  My father and mother, dressed in all black, held on to each other. It broke my heart to see them this grief-stricken when I could easily reveal myself to them. I couldn’t—it would be too dangerous. Not just for them, but for all the angels. I knew too many secrets, and my life was best spent dead. I couldn’t risk being protected by those who would die doing so. I had come to one conclusion while I waited for my funeral: it would not be the Shadows I would destroy; it would be the Ladies of Light and the Soul Stalker. When I Illuminated the Shadows, I would not deliver death—I would deliver life, light. The only problem was that every angels’ mind had been altered, their perception changed. I needed to return to Abelie’s. The Timeless book was still there, and I knew it would lead me to the Prophetess. She had answers, and all I had to do was find her.

  Jenna walked up to the podium to speak. Her face was tear-stained, and her nose was red from wiping it. My heart gave a horrible, wrenching jolt. What made the whole scene even worse was little Jules, holding several white roses in her tiny palms. She was a doll in her black dress. She stood next to the silver casket as her tiny tears dripped on her tiny cheeks. It was that which made me break down. I cried, not for my death, but for my family. I knew what it was like to lose someone you truly loved. It was only a week ago that I placed my own mom—the most beautiful angel of all—into the solid ground below.

  “Not many people knew Gabriella as I did,” Jenna said through her tears. “And that’s too bad. She was self-righteous at times, but she was humble when needed. She placed others before herself and loved deeper than anyone I’ve ever known. She was there for me when times were tough, and she was always there for Jules. She was not one to let someone into her heart, and she was fearful of relationships with people. Because of this, many of you don’t know the carefree, fun-loving girl inside. So let me tell you a few things I do know about my sister that you might not know. She was intelligent beyond her years. Well, you all already knew that.” There was light laughter. “She was beautiful, inside and out, and had a fantastic sense of humor, not to mention her sarcastic side.” Jenna smiled then, her eyes reminiscent.

  “Since she’s no longer here to share her smile with us today, I thought I would tell you a story about my sister.”

  Oh no, I thought, but was smiling all the same, the new silver tears finding their way down my cheeks.

  She continued. “When Gabriella first moved to Oretown, I had only been living in Portland for a few months. Nicole was with her to help her unpack. They both had decided to come up to the city so we could go out. I got a sitter for Jules, and we went to a bar. She was so nervous because she had a fake ID.” I knew where this was going.

  “At the time, Gabriella drove a Jeep Wrangler. Not exactly the best vehicle to own in a rainy costal town. It had been a beautiful day, so the top was off when she parked in my driveway. . . .”

  Jenna continued with the story as I searched the crowd under the tent. There were familiar faces—particularly my family members, but others I only knew professionally. As I scanned the crowd, I spotted my cousin Nicole next to my mother. Her stunning blue-green eyes were accentuated by her dark green wrap style dress, which hugged her pint-sized figure perfectly. She was listening intently to Jenna’s story when she suddenly broke down in sobs. My mom reached out to comfort her, stroking her silky blonde hair. It was too much. I had to look away.

  When I couldn’t find the angel I was looking for, I searched along the tree line. In the distance, I found my four angels: Andrew, Ehno, Lucia, and my father. My world, the one I thought was about to spin off its axis, seemed to realign itself at the sight of them standing there. It was such a huge relief to see them. They survived—all of them. They were alive. Deep down, I knew that was another reason I had come here today—I had to know they were okay.

  Standing close to the angels was Joseph. He looked distraught, but it was nothing compared to the tortured expression Andrew wore. It was like the life had been sucked out of him. His golden tears were numerous, and his eyes were the brightest blue I had ever seen—even more brilliant than when Abelie was brutally murdered. I hated the fact I couldn’t comfort them, but I was a magnet for death; and I wouldn’t let it follow them any longer.

  Jenna had finished her story, which ended in the three of us being drenched in mud and two revoked fake IDs. There was light laughter in the crowd, but it died out quickly. As the service ended, I knew that I couldn’t stay invisible for much longer because my power had drained. Vehicles started up, and soon everyone was gone except my angels, Joseph, Jenna, and Jules.

  Jenna had her hand over the casket, her tears trickling down onto the silver. I hated seeing Jenna there, with Jules all in black. They were mourning me. And as I saw the angels move closer, I mourned for myself. This truly was the death of Gabriella, and the life of the Illuminator—I was alone.

  Joseph was the first to come up behind Jenna. They spoke to each other, and Jenna smiled a small, sad smile. Through my tears, I smiled too. She always loved a man in a suit. After several minutes, he walked her to her car, but what I was intent on watching was not them but the angels who surrounded my empty casket. Andrew put his hand upon the silver-coated casket, and several golden tears splashed onto it, which slithered down the side. I hadn’t noticed how close I had gotten and backed away. Aiden had a hand on Andrew’s shoulder, gripping it as if he were holding him up. Ehno and Lucia held hands, but what shocked me more than anything about the whole scene was that Ehno stared directly at me.

  I vanished, going back to my neighbor’s beach house. For a moment I was stunned. That was the first time I had “popped” from one place to the next. I had been staying here for the last three days. I was lucky that my neighbors didn’t live up here—they only visited in the summer months. Taking in a deep breath, I leaned back against the wall. I wasn’t sure if Ehno had actually seen me or not, but I wasn’t staying to find out. It was amazing how easily I had taken to this new life, these new changes, and this new power, but I knew deep within my soul that this was who I was meant to be. And if I had to hide in shadows for a while, I would.

  It was only a matter of time before I would need my angels again. More than anything, I missed Andrew holding me at night during my dreams. But right now, the angelic world needed to think I was dead—that the Illuminator had failed. Though I was far from failing—I was only be
ginning my journey, a journey I knew nothing about.

  It had been two long days since my funeral. A plum brick-colored house stood with sandy brown shutters in the darkness of the cloudy night. No light flooded through the windows.

  He was asleep, but I knew he would be there.

  I knocked on the front door. It was three in the morning, but that was why I had picked this time of night. It was the dead hour—perfect timing for me to show up on his doorstep considering I was dead. The door flung open, and Joseph was silhouetted in the dim light coming from inside. He wore flannel pajama pants, his bare abs exposed, his hair tousled, and his eyes heavy with sleep. He didn’t say anything as he stared at me in sheer disbelief. I could understand—I was dead, or so he thought.

  “Gabriella?”

  “Joseph, I need your help.”

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  There are so many people I want to thank for their help with making this book possible.

  First, and foremost, Lisa Langdale: she stuck with me through every sentence, each comma, and every crazy quote that she could convince me to trash . . . or to add. There has never been a better Beta reader! She might have even taken a Lamaze class so she could coax me down when I was having a “freakout.” She was the first Team Joseph supporter and hopefully not the last. Love you like crazy, woman!

  “The beta-ing never ends, even on the acknowledgments.” –Lisa, self proclaimed Captain of Team Joseph

  Second, I want to thank my family: they cheered me on, helped me when I desperately needed advice, and have been nothing but supportive in whatever I wanted to do in life, even when it was to become a writer. (That was out of left-field, eh Mom?) Most important to acknowledge of this bunch is JD for understanding me when I was being an anti-social, crazy lunatic for months. (And for letting me have TWO men in my life besides him: Andrew and Joseph.) Michael, my brother, for calling me almost every night for three months begging for new material, and when I was finally done, he read the whole thing again in one day. Of course, my parents, who dedicated their lives to me. Don’t worry, I didn’t forget about how amazing you are, Grandma, and all the wonderful notes you gave me to help improve my writing. You’ll always be an English teacher at heart.

  Third, I’d like to thank DJ Urquart, who is an excellent English teacher and friend who gave it to me straight! Sorry, his name is still Jeff, not Geoffre or Frautz. Are those even names? Haha.

  Fourth, there were a few who edited only parts of my book that gave me great, new insight on my characters. Big thanks to Brianne Villano, from Mindful Media Management, who was able to make me laugh at my own stupidity without actually making me feel stupid. Thank you to Marissa at First Editing. She transformed some of my badly formed sentences into something readable!

  Gabriella is Back

  SOUL STALKER

  Being the Illuminator is not all happiness and light, especially when everyone thinks you are dead. When Gabriella decides to finally tell her angels she is alive, Joseph and an unexpected friend help her. The Darkness Illuminator is not as in control of her power as she believes, which makes for a very comedic and endearing relationship that blooms between the three. A fender-bender debacle, a run in with the cops, and a hiccup at the airport seem to all be worth it until Gabriella finds out her plan has backfired.

  The three angels are missing, more mysteries pile up, and a new evil is brewing—so terrifying, in fact, that even the Soul Stalker herself is cowering in fear. Our heroine begins a jarring, romance-filled, heart-breaking journey that will lead her back to Italy, and ultimately to the answers she is desperately searching for. What will she do when they aren’t the answers she expected? What happens when she unveils a truth, so deeply hidden, that it causes an angelic war?

  Available now at a bookstore near you.

  https://laurakreitzer.com