The Conception (The Descendant Series Book 2)

by L. J. Amodeo

  The right of L.J. Amodeo to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him/her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it was published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events may be the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  [ 1. Angels and demons—Fiction. 2. Paranormal—Fiction 3. Romance—Fiction 4. Saints—Fiction 5. Supernatural—Fiction ]

  Contributions by Nina Chianetta–DeSanto

  Edited by: Penelope Anne Bartotto, Patrick Hodges, and Perfectly Publishable

  Cover designed by: Consuelo Parra

  Model: Electricsorceress.deviantart

  Photographer: Marina Schneider Moog

  Back cover designed by: Aurelia Fray

  Copyright© 2015 by L.J. Amodeo

  All rights reserved

  Library of Congress

  Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.

  Published by

  CHBB Publishing, LLC.

  Novi, Michigan 48374

  Book two of the Descendant Series

  Table of Contents

  The Conception

  Dedication

  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

  To my beloved parents, Giovanni and Maria Venuto, whose love and strength had always encouraged me to be brave, persevere and never stop believing. This is for you . . .

  First, my all things supernatural consultant, Nina Chianetta DeSanto, who has not only been my friend, but a guide while writing The Conception. Nina, with your visions and knowledge of the supernatural world, The Conception developed into something extraordinary. I am grateful that with your guidance, I was able to get back on the path that continued this epic storyline. You are my “goddess”!

  Next, a girl couldn’t be any luckier to have the endless encouragement and tireless support of my dearest friends and rebel sisters; Fran, Theresa and Susan—you ladies are my rock! Fran Licata-Gaudio, without you, I would have otherwise given up most times. Your faith and belief in my story and characters, from the beginning, has pushed me with such determination to finish my second novel. I cannot be more grateful to you and your family for your loyalty, and for always believing in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself.

  I have been blessed to work with my editor, Penelope Anne Bartotto. The poetic magic of beauty, romance, suspense and mystery you added to each page has brought this novel to the next level. You have an extraordinary gift—a wildly creative mind and a lyrical talent for words. You are an amazing editor, Pen!

  Lastly, without the tireless support of my husband, Damian and my crazy kids, Joefish, Toya and Jules, this dream would not have been possible. I love you to the moon and back, and yes Joseph, you are the best son I could have ever wished for. ;)

  Our car careened into the frozen lake. As the icy waters rushed to fill what little air was left in the sinking car, my mother’s body pinned me against the seat. I tried to force her limp weight away, but it proved useless. I didn’t have the strength to push her off. Hopeless, I watched the water level rise. Panic along with the frigid waters began to restrict any movement I made in my state of desperation. As the flesh freezing water crept to my chin, my mother began to float, nearly too weak to move, I pulled her close, cradling her lifeless body, knowing I’d soon reunite with her. My secret was real, not an illusion as Dr. Seth had convinced my mother it was. Angry voices screamed out to me in a state of confusion and hysteria. Mors ifanti felix, juvenis acerba, nimis sera est seni!

  I didn’t want to believe their words. The desperation of wanting to live suddenly opened my eyes and had me fighting for my life. I had foolishly wasted away a year, fixated on my destiny, pondering on how my life should have ended; wanting it to end in the worst way. Now, it seemed death was nothing more than a permanent solution to a temporary problem. Dying was not an option, nor would I accept their reasons for taking my mother. I would fight—fight for both of us.

  Something seized my arm and forced me out of the submerged vehicle. I looked up to see Freddie’s beautiful face looking back at me. His swift strokes brought us to the foot of the cliffs, where massive boulders shattered the breaks of violent waves. Freddie left me shivering on the rocks, icy winds lashing savagely across my skin as he swam back for my mother. He gently placed her limp body on the rocks and ran back to me, putting his arms around me before hypothermia set in. Although he had jumped into icy waters to save me, his body radiated with immense heat. Yet a chilling feeling crept up my spine. Not the chill brought on by frozen waters and icy winds but by dark voices chanting together in many languages as the storm raged viciously around us; quoniam impletum est tempus; El tiempo es cumplido;Complitu da demborá; The time has come, the last voice whispered.

  I gripped Freddie’s shoulders, terrified of what was coming. I couldn’t handle any more of the unexpected. I had hoped it would end here in the lake, but my duty as the chosen one had not yet been fulfilled. I looked into Freddie’s eyes, wondering if he had heard the voices too, but he dared not look at me. He kept his eyes on my mother lying motionless behind me. I was afraid to turn around, as I knew she was already gone. My teeth chattered uncontrollably, making it impossible to speak. I battled the fear within me as I imagined life without my mom. Slowly, the numbing sting of hypothermia began creeping up from my toes. I managed through quivering lips, “Frrr . . . thank . . . you—”

  “You’re welcome Beth,” he responded.

  With a small nod of my head, I’m certain he understood I was eternally grateful. Freddie effortlessly lifted me, carrying me up the cliff. I managed a small glance back at Mom’s body as the fierce waves crashed over her corpse, and ultimately swallowed her back into its dark depths.

  “Mmmmom . . . nnoooo,” I wailed through my clenched teeth.

  Freddie rushed me into his car as I convulsed from the severity of my physical trauma. My head felt as if it would burst while my hands gripped the pain exploding in my abdomen. Drenched and freezing, I looked down at my wet shirt pressed against what used to be my flat stomach.

  In horror I gasped. “It can’t be true! No! Not me!”

  Legions of angels of blue lightning and protection assemble to serve mankind.

  ~ Unknown

  “Aaaahhh! I can’t brreeaathe, Freddie! It hurts!”

  “Beth, stay calm . . . we’ll get help. Just try to calm down, please! I am here now.” But the pain progressed. Freddie watched me struggle for air as he pressed down on the gas pedal i
n fleeting speeds and barreled through an endless stretch of roadway.

  “We’ll be there soon! Just hold on a bit more!” he cried.

  I felt Freddie’s strong grip on my hand as my mind faded in and out of consciousness. “Ouwwwww! What’s happening?

  “Can’t explain it now, Beth; just stay with me!”

  Up ahead, a blockade of ironclad fences ended the stretch of roadway. Freddie did not release his foot on the gas pedal, but pressed down harder, increasing his speed and aiming directly for the obstruction. Without hesitation, he braced me with his free hand, while the other maneuvered the speeding vehicle. At the sight of the massive gates, I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping it would pass quickly and painlessly. In what appeared as a blinding flash, the car bolted through the barrier and we pounced hard on the road’s surface as Freddie continued speeding for what seemed like an eternity.

  Within minutes, the barren trees, the loomed gray skies and icy roads were replaced by an efflorescent landscape and vibrant blue skies with puffs of thick white clouds hovering over magnificent snowcapped mountain peaks. The pain in my stomach momentarily ebbed as I stared out at the view, similar to the one who gave me solace during my visit with my father at the Trinity.

  Freddie’s car curtailed in front of a turn of the century structure. Swiftly, he lifted me out of the Mustang and bolted through the front doors. Several women flitted about the house around us; not one spoke a word or made a sound. In synchronized movements, they understood exactly what was needed of them. Freddie laid me across an antique four-poster bed, with lappet carved balusters elegant enough for royalty, I noticed as my eyes scoured the large room.

  The immense pain did not ease for long. It was nauseating. The sudden urge to heave pounced in my stomach and up my throat until it could no longer be contained. I sat up, ready to vomit, when one of the elderly women holding a small pail immediately ran to my bedside as I released salty water from my lungs. Another woman with a basin of warm water and fresh cloths washed my face and mouth clean. The third pricked my thigh with a tiny syringe filled with a small amount of clear fluid. The pain subsided almost immediately. The youngest of the three servants picked up a mint green nightgown and held it out toward the others as they easily removed my wet clothing without any protest from me. She waited patiently for the two matronly women to give their signal to move in. With an insignificant nod, the young girl swiftly pulled the gown over my head and slid it down my body. In one abrupt motion, the trio pulled the comforter over my legs, right up to my chest. I watched them as they scampered about in rapid and graceful choreography. One by one, they exited the chamber, closing the heavy door with only the sound of a gentle thud.

  For several minutes, I laid there unsure of where I was or what I was doing there to begin with. My body slowly relaxed and my lids dropped heavily over my eyes. I knew I wanted to sleep, but was hesitant. I couldn't resist the need to close my eyes and so I did with regret . . .

  The sound of my bare feet running on a cold, hard floor vibrated through the empty corridors of Webber Memorial. The sneering and carnal laughter of the dragon echoed off the bare walls. I ran until a force slammed me down, smashing my face against the hard surface, breaking my front teeth. The pain was excruciating as blood gushed from my mouth. I tried desperately to crawl away from the unsightly beast.

  Luca hoisted me off the floor and bolted for the doors. With agility, he sprinted through the eerie streets holding me over his shoulder like a rag doll. Anything that got in his way, he bludgeoned violently. He abruptly halted before a stone temple I had once dreamt of; the same temple on the same vacant street, carved with the symbol of a snake twined around a burning tree. He entered the sanctum and pummeled me down onto the massive stone slab. The stone's sharp edges thrashed at my back on impact like a sheet of glass cutting through my skin.

  I lay there, too frightened to move, afflicted with thrashing pain as well as physical torment. Through misty eyes, I watched Luca pace around the stone that supported my broken body. He watched me ardently, as if in thought, licking his lips whenever he stopped to peer at me. The sneer on his lips conveyed his victory over my angel; his adversary, Michael. Luca knew he held the cards in his hands now, and Michael would have no choice but to give in to save me.

  The demon’s eyes were no longer the color of emeralds, but colorless and as ashen as his skin—just like those of the Watchers.

  “What do you want from me?" my voice echoed, breaking his thoughts.

  “Welcome to the Shadow Realm,” he bowed in Tudor style.

  “What is this place?” my voice reverberated.

  “It’s where your beloved Mikael has cast me and my Hellions for thousands of years.”

  “Why have you brought me here? What do you want from me?” my lips trembled.

  “You owe me something that is extremely important to my kingdom. Only you can give me that something I have wanted—for a very, very long time. You, oh chosen one, will serve me in ways you can never imagine!” he scorned, baring his hooked teeth while stroking his finger from my neck to my belly. I squirmed uncomfortably against his icy touch. My breathing grew deeper.

  “I don’t belong to you or anyone else!” I spat at him, making a lame attempt to fight back. His deranged eyes turned black and like a spider, he scaled the walls just as quickly and easily. I swallowed back fear.

  Without warning, the beast vaulted off the ceiling, landing on top of me. Overpowering me, his disfigured body pressed hungrily against mine; mounting himself over me, while restraining my arms high above my head. He thrust himself upon me, pushing with plundering force repeatedly in unspeakable assaults. The violent pain and strength of his attacks ripped my flesh; smearing my blood against his scaly skin. I cried out in anguish, but Luca angrily quieted my laments with his bloodied hand over my mouth. I begged for him to stop as I whimpered helplessly under his repulsive body.

  “Sssssh, keeper of the key,” he hissed licking my blood from his fingers. “We don't want to upset my son,” he roared into a hideous laughter. “Where is your shield, your one true love Mikael now?” his laughter rose louder erupting an immense pain in my ears.

  I awoke, horrified and a sweaty mess as my eyes snapped open. Repulsed by Luca, I sat up in bed breathless and fully aware. It was another terrifying dream. I had no idea if I had slept for hours or several days. Disoriented, I squinted at the light streaming through the window, glancing around the room in search for a clock. There wasn’t one in sight. Yet, the images of Luca's violent attacks surfaced, leaving me shaking and suddenly feeling sickened. I pulled off the comforter that covered my trembling body and examined my stomach. I breathed a sigh of relief as my heart paused, momentarily fearing the worst.

  The idea of having Luca’s baby sent me running to the bathroom, again vomiting. I could not fathom the notion that such a thing would ever be possible—imagine me, the last living descendant, carrying such an evil child. But it’s only a dream! My mind cried.

  The dream felt so real, escalating my sobs that echoed through the silent halls of the estate. Only the echoes of my own pleas responded to my petitions.

  “Freddie, where are you? I need you! Help me!” I wailed inconsolably.

  My life was in turmoil, nothing about it felt sacred. Michael and all his angels had protected me against the evil ones, and now the iniquity wanted to claim me as his own. And what if it had happened? What if it wasn’t a dream and Luca planted his spawn in me? What would I do? My mind repelled the vile and incomprehensible thoughts. I ran to the ornate mirror perched against the wall by the window and lifted my shirt to stare at my abdomen. My fingers moved over the curves of my stomach when suddenly my belly distended and instantly contracted, distorting its shape. Wide eyed and horrified, I fell back, letting out a shrilling scream. I knew at that moment that Freddie should have let me die with my mother.

  If troubled hearing angels’ song with thine ears, try listening with thy heart

  ~ Terri Guillemetsr />
  “Bethy.” Freddie’s troubled voice broke my hysteria.

  Distressed, he stood at the doorway watching me grip my belly in anguish. With his lips barely parted, he remained speechless and distraught, watching me fight my inner demons.

  I stared at him, feeling helpless and defeated.

  “Bethy, we need to talk,” he whispered. Perspiration beaded his head. The look in his eyes suggested whatever he had to say to me was not good. The one person I thought could help me seemed as stupefied as I was. As Freddie walked over to me, I threw myself at him wrapping my arms around him. I just needed to be in his arms, having him hold me. “Freddie, I need you more than ever, please don’t leave me.” All I could feel was his warm body and tight hold. I felt safe.

  “Beth, I will never leave you, I promise. But right now you have to listen to what I have to tell you. There are some things you need to know. I don’t . . . I . . . I don’t know where to begin. I’m not sure how to say this.” He fussed with his car keys.

  “Just spill it! I am tired of people holding back. My whole life has been a lie. Everyone around me has kept secrets from me. No more secrets, please.” I begged, overcome with exhaustion.

  “You’ve been through so much and the threat of what’s happening within the realms is getting out of hand,” he feared, combing his fingers through his hair.

  “Do you mean with me?”

  “Yes.” He nodded.

  Rummaging wildly through my mind, I felt my stomach twist; remembering all that had transpired. I knew the light angels had caused Sam, Luca and the other fallen angels to scurry back to the dark side. I had witnessed it with my own eyes. Freddie tried to remain collected, but beneath his calm appearance a fleck of fear emerged. Watching Freddie desperately, I asked, “Am I safe now?”

  “If you remain here—yes.”

  “For how long?” I asked Freddie.

  “Not sure.” He attempted to brush it off casually, knowing my indefinite stay here would eventually end in confrontation. With a blatant stare of disbelief, I leaned against the ornate column of the bed, suddenly feeling woozy.