by Deena Remiel
Trinity
A Brethren Novel
By Deena Remiel
Smashwords Edition Copyright © 2011 by Deena Remiel
ISBN: 978-1-936394-74-6
Cover art by Fiona Jayde
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~DEDICATION~
To my husband and children, who are my real-life angels.
Acknowledgements
It takes a village to raise a novel, and my village is a mighty force. From the inception of The Brethren Series, I’ve had support from family, friends, and people who became friends. My family was the first to hear about my endeavor to write a novel. They smiled, gave me space and time, and cheered me on each day as I shared my excitement over how much I’d written.
My beta readers, those friends and family who read the rough, rough draft are a source of motivation and determination to write the best damn novels possible. Auntie A, Mary K, and Elizabeth, I thank you for the time you spend reading and rereading chapter upon chapter and their many incarnations.
The Desert Rose Chapter of RWA has brought me out of my cave and into the real world of authoring and publishing. I thank my sisters, Amber Scott and Kris Tualla, for their tireless tutelage, patience and laughter. My critique partners, Kathy and Varina, were instrumental in teaching me the nuances of revision, and I couldn’t thank them more. Judy and Ruth, I thank you for being my first fans, as well as colleagues. My facebook friends and fans are another source of support. I have never had a lovelier group of friends than I do now. They stand strong and decimate my self-doubt.
Decadent Publishing editors are phenomenal. Meredith Cole, Barbara Sheridan, thank you for your attention to detail and teaching me well. Nicole Hicks, thank you for caring so for our baby and giving it a nickname. I eagerly await joining forces once again.
I must acknowledge my publishers. Do authors do that in their acknowledgements? Well I do! Heather and Lisa, I must thank you for being phenomenal publishers and friends. You have provided a wonderful, supportive environment for authors, and I am so pleased and proud to have my series be a part of your house.
—Deena
Prologue
Ever since the dawn of man, a war has waged between Good and Evil. Good has tried to claim supreme eternal victory, but like the ebb and flow of the tides, Evil rises up periodically trying to usurp Good’s reign over the mortal world. Evil has its minions, immortal and mortal alike. Good has the Brethren, angels who were hired by an enigmatic leader to manifest on Earth as men, to fight against Evil, and protect and heal the human race. Time and again they have clashed over the centuries, both suffering great losses, yet Good has always come away triumphant and maintained its sovereignty.
It was during a time of economic and political turmoil that Satan had begun quietly amassing his minions once again. Letting the good and the righteous settle into a comfortable existence, unaware of how tenuous their lives really were.
But not everyone was oblivious. Doomsayers flooded the streets in the larger cities; cults arose in smaller towns promising salvation. And in one of those small towns, a child was born to a mother. Not just any child and her mother, but both born to an ancient, powerful lineage. Fated to fulfill prophecy, both were a part of the key to securing a lasting victory against Evil.
And neither of them knew it.
Chapter One
I’m dead. Emma yawned and rubbed at her dry, bloodshot eyes. I must be dead. Or maybe I’ve become one of the living dead. How else could she explain her zombie-like manner as she walked through her house at nine o’clock in the evening, locking windows and doors, shutting off lights, and nearly passing out at the foot of her bed? At the very least, she was one extremely sleep-deprived single mom who hadn’t become so due to an overactive sex life, that’s for sure. Oh, she had a nightly ritual, all right, one that starved her body of the healing affects a full night’s sleep could offer. And she was certain as she plunged into a deep, dreamless sleep that the ritual would likely continue this very evening.
A blood-curdling scream shattered the peaceful silence of the wee hours. She roused, instantly alert. Her soul, rocked by the echoing scream, seized up like a blown car engine.
“Ow! Son of a bitch!” Emma swore under her breath. She kicked aside the inconsiderate Malibu Barbie. “Hannah, I’m coming! Mama’s coming!”
Her stomach roiled at the terror and desperation in her daughter’s panic-stricken voice echoing through the hallway.
“I won’t go! I won’t go! No! I’ll never let you take me! I won’t do it! You can’t make me do it! Mama! Help me! Mama!”
Well hell, this is something new. Usually, when Hannah was having one of her nightmares, she shrieked until Emma talked her out of it and put her back to sleep. Now she’s talking in her nightmare, too? Completely at a loss, she raked her hands through her hair as she rushed to her daughter, writhing on the bed.
“Hannah, I’m here. You’re okay. Mama’s here. Wake up, honey. Sweetie? Mama’s here.” She repeated these phrases like a mantra, trying to keep her voice as calm and soothing as possible. But who was she kidding? This newly added dimension of these nightmares was sending her over the deep end herself. She hoped her little one couldn’t sense it.
“Mama! He’s got me! Save me, Mama!” Hannah pleaded in a frenzy of emotion. It looked as though something was tugging on her arms and she was trying to pull them back. And her eyes were open.
Crap! She’s never had her eyes open before, either. What the hell was going on?
She sat next to her jerking body and waved a hand in front of her face. Hannah looked at and then past her, as though there really was someone else in the room—someone seated right next to her. Crap, crap, crap! As she turned to look beside her, she saw a hint of a shadow, but then figured it to be her own. Get a hold of yourself.
“Honey, wake up. It’s only a dream. You’re okay. You’re safe.”
Hannah looked back again at her, and foretold in a chilling tone, “I’ll never be safe, Mama. Not anymore.” And with that, her little angel flopped back onto her pillow and was instantly asleep. What the hell was going on here? She acted as though possessed. Emma stood at the bedside, paralyzed, and stared at her daughter. Utter helplessness invaded her soul. Completely unnerved and sick to her stomach, she dropped to the floor like a rag doll and sobbed until she was spent.
What had happened to her baby girl? Almost six months ago, she had been a carefree, charismatic girl of five. And, for a little girl whose birthday was a week away, anyone would expect her to be bouncing out of her skin with excitement. Now, to look at her these days, she was anxious, withdrawn, and simply drained. Doctors hadn’t been any help so far.
Change her routine. Okay.
Don’t let her wa
tch scary shows. Fine.
Let’s try medication. Well, all right.
All of their suggestions proved fruitless, and left her completely alone with more questions than answers. What was she going to do now? There was no chance in hell that she would tell the doctors about this latest episode. They’d want to put her baby in a psychiatric facility, and she drew the line at that. There had to be another way to stop this nightly assault. But how?
Emma gathered the energy to drag herself onto Hannah’s bed. She snuggled close to her baby girl’s fragile body, and sank into the nest of Care Bear blankets. As she dropped off to sleep, she prayed, “Please, for heaven’s sake, someone help my baby. End this madness.”
Chapter Two
“Well, Agremon? Have you brought me the child?”
“Mr. Namirha, sir, I’d like to say yes, but I can’t. You know I’ve been trying for so long now, My Lord, and tonight I got the closest yet to grabbing her, but….”
Namirha scowled and tossed the newspaper he’d been reading to the floor. “Agremon, remind me. Why do I keep you alive? Why do I keep your worthless ass around here if I never see results from your supposed gift? Hmm?”
“Well, Mr. Namirha, sir, you must know my gift for terror is truly great and none can match it. Why, I’ve kept your followers in line for years now.” Agremon puffed out his chest like a preening gorilla. “But I think it’s the girl’s mother that’s causing the problem here. My Lord, there is something about her that’s shielding her daughter from me.”
“Is that so?”
“I can’t put my finger on it, but every time I get to the point where I’m about to take her, the mother comes in and is able to push me away. I don’t know how or why. But I’ll get to the bottom of it and make sure it doesn’t happen again!”
Agremon stood a good distance away from Namirha, not quite trusting the look in the eyes of his Lord and master. He’d worked for him very successfully for centuries, but at the moment, his repeated failures left him open to Namirha’s wrath.
Knowing what Namirha was capable of was definitely cause for alarm.
“Excuses, excuses! I’m done with excuses, Agremon. Her birthday is a week away for Hell’s sake! I need her, and I need her now!” Namirha bellowed. “You get that girl and bring her to me, or I’ll have your body roasting on a spit while your head watches from a poleax! Now leave and find a way to get that girl here. Your life depends on it!”
As does yours, Agremon snickered inwardly.
“Yes, my Lord. I’ll get her. I promise. Don’t worry. All will be as you wish, My Lord, or my name isn’t Agremon the Terrible.” He bowed and made a quick exit from the throne room.
Agremon knew Namirha’s patience was running out. The look of admiration he’d once enjoyed from his Lord had withered to one of downright disappointment. The clock was ticking. If he didn’t produce the child soon, he was a total goner. He could kill that mother! If she would have stayed out of the damn room he could have taken the child a while ago. But the damn shrieking always brought her! What could he do?
Maybe if he visited the mother first he could do some damage. And then he could get the girl while the mother is cowering in her own nightmares.
Yes! That’s it! It would be a most auspicious evening.
Tomorrow night he’d try again, and this time he’d be damned if he failed.
Chapter Three
“Mama, wake up, we have to get ready for school. Come on, Mama, wake up. Your alarm is going off and I don’t know how to stop it.”
“Mmmm…okay, honey, okay. I’m up.” Bleary-eyed and stiff, Emma slowly moved each limb, testing to see that they were still in working order. “Oh, my word!” she groaned as she tried to sit up, her back screaming with resistance. Was it seven o’clock already? She slunk her way back to her own bedroom and turned off the offending alarm that was pounding nails straight through her skull with every beep. Her personal alarm clock followed timidly behind.
“Are you tired, Mama?” Hannah asked. She nodded grimly and patted her back. “I’m sorry I woke you up again.”
“Don’t be sorry, sugar. I know you can’t help these nightmares from coming anymore than I can. I just wish we could get a break from them every now and again.” She sighed guiltily and caressed Hannah’s face.
“But it wasn’t a dream this time, Mama! It wasn’t! You saved me. You really did. If you hadn’t come, that awful, scary man would have taken me to Him forever.”
Emma was trying her best to will away any outward signs of frustration and knew it wasn’t working. She felt like the absolute worst mother in the world! “Honey, I know it felt real to you, but trust me. It was only a nightmare. Tell me something, though. What did you mean when you said the scary man was going to take you to Him? Who’s Him?”
“The scary man who is always in my dream, his name is Agremon. He keeps trying to take me to a man named Mr. Namirha. He wants me to become his daughter. But I’m already yours, Mama. I don’t want to be his. That’s kidnapping or stealing. Isn’t it? And last night, Agremon was really angry with me for fighting him. He grabbed me and was pulling me from my bed, but then you came in and pushed him away. You saved me, Mama!” Hannah cried out and grabbed her so fiercely she thought she’d cracked a couple of ribs.
“Whoa! Anytime, Angel. You know I wouldn’t let anyone or anything hurt you or take you away from me.” Despite the aching ribs, Emma hugged her tighter, not quite sure at the moment if it was to comfort the grateful child or herself, and then kneeled down to speak to her face to face. “You know, sometimes our dreams can feel so real to us. Sometimes we can convince ourselves that what happened in them really happened. It takes a great mind with a great imagination to think so. You, my dear, have a great imagination. And now that you’ve shared this dream, you don’t have to think about it anymore. You can take a deep breath, knowing it wasn’t real, and let it go.” She stroked her daughter’s long, jet-black hair and kissed her pixie nose. “So, why don’t we start getting ready for school now, okay? We’ll have a good hearty breakfast, and I’ll tell jokes on the way to school. How does that sound?”
“Well, okay, I guess. Do you think I could sleep with you tonight, though?” Hannah asked tentatively. Emma’s sleep-deprived brain was no match for the doe eyes peering up at her, nor a trembling mouth.
“Sure, Hannah,” she caved. Maybe she would get a better night’s sleep if she didn’t have to actually get out of bed and run down the hall to deal with the nightmares. And maybe she wouldn’t feel like the worst mother in the world for one night.
***
As Emma drove her ancient pickup truck down the school’s dirt road, she paid little attention to the striking, craggy mountains rising up to kiss the sky. She didn’t feel the hot breeze wafting through the opened windows, causing sweat to gather around her neck and trickle down between her breasts. No, what she felt was relief washing over her.
She had jokingly called Prophet’s Point Elementary School her second home for six years now, but it had only felt like one since Michael D’Angelo, the school’s principal, came on board. He was a breath of fresh air for the school and had become a good friend. Once at school, she thought maybe Hannah would forget about last night and concentrate on her day, her friends, and her schoolwork. The jokes she told on the way to school hadn’t gone over so well. Hannah had given her usual polite smile, but that’s as far as it went. Was last night’s nightmare now going to affect her daughter during school hours, too? How was she to explain it away? Damn it all if today wasn’t going to be a good day for her!
Living in such a small town made it difficult for anyone to keep secrets. The two of them had kept the nightmare issue a private matter, knowing it would be completely humiliating if any of her friends found out about it. She knew they would be relentless with their questions and their teasing, and she needed an escape. School was that escape.
Emma, on the other hand, was at her wit’s end. She needed to confide in someone or she w
ould have a nervous breakdown herself. Only thing was, she didn’t know who. Admittedly, she had major trust issues. Once burned, twice shy, as the saying went. But closing herself off to any kind of relationship, be it friend or lover, left her severely lacking in the confidant department. She had vowed never again to desire the pajama party friendships she used to have, or trust her heart to a man, but she reluctantly acknowledged that without opening herself up a little bit right now, she would implode.
The truck now sat under a shade tree, and the two of them held hands while walking into the school building.
“Okay, Angel. I love you. Have a super day learning and playing with your friends. If you need me, you know you can tell Mrs. McNamara, and she’ll let you come to my classroom. But, I think you’re going to have a really good day. Right?”
“I’ll try, Mama. Really, I will. I won’t even come to your classroom today,” Hannah promised with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She gave her mother a kiss on the cheek, turned around every few steps and waved goodbye. Emma waved back with a smile that she hoped didn’t appear as forced as she knew it was. As the classroom door closed, her smile drooped. How could such a tiny girl battle such a big problem…and win?
She walked down the hall a bit further to her own classroom. Leaning against the door, she closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. How was she supposed to focus on today’s computer lessons when all she could think about was her little, broken angel?