Divinity: The Gathering: Book One

By Susan Reid

"No one knows WHEN the world will end but how do you go on, when you’ve seen HOW it will end? If the dark ones don’t kill me first...I'll tell everyone."--- Starling Marie Roberts.
College Sophomore, Starling Roberts is afraid of the dark and the malignant beings within it because she has known this all her life.
The shadow beings are real and she has always been able to see them.
Plagued with fear and the constant imagery of what appears to be how the world will end in her dreams, isn't an easy burden to carry; especially when that darkness is after you for the very thing that makes each one of us stand apart from them. Our Divinity.
Starling is one of the many divine chosen but she is a rare and unique.
Past tribulations and tragedies have all served to wilt her own beliefs, leaving her to begin questioning her own purpose and faith.
But that begins to change when the dark shadows begin attacking her mentally...and physically.
Her unusual divinity has placed her on the top most wanted list set by the dark fallen, and she has become the target of a planned catastrophic, deadly, orchestrated event, controlled and led by Morning Star himself.
Starling's only hope to remain alive and sane is Cam`ael, a renegade, fallen Incubus who lusts for her, and Drakael—the Angel determined to keep her from him.

This is her Chronicle, pulled and put together from her own personal journals now known as The Book of Starling.
Combined with the journals of Cam`ael; Former Chief Angel of all Powers, in his own words and at his own personal request.

Scholar Disciple Keiko-San

• Language: English
• Publisher: Susan Reid
• Release date: Apr 26, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310736384

Susan Reid

The Divinity Saga came about from a recurring dream. From the start, the character of Starling came to fruition. At first, Divinity the Gathering was meant to be just one book but I couldn’t see how both Starling and Cam`ael’s story would be complete in just one. I don’t have any impressive accolades or awards to mention as far as my writing history goes though I have been writing for many, many years. I love to write and I’m thrilled to know that people are reading it and even more so, liking what they are reading. This is the first time I’ve decided to finally try my hand at publishing something. Though I dabble in many genres I gravitate more towards urban fantasy and paranormal. In my spare time, books replace television and I love reading horror. I love trying new things and since I love to cook and bake, much of that creative energy ends up on the dinner table, whether it be a meal or dessert. I reside in Texas and work in Law Enforcement to supplement both my writing and reading habit. I do respond to and love to stay engaged with potential readers and fans, so feel free to drop in a hello or a quick message to me anytime on Goodreads or on The Divinity Saga Facebook page. Would love to meet all of you! In my down time, I love making jewelry, practicing martial arts with my son, and being the guinea pig for my aspiring Esthetician daughter!

Book preview

Advent: Starling

I: Starling

II: Starling

III: Starling

IV: Cam`ael

V: Cam`ael

VI: Starling

VII: Cam`ael

VIII: Starling

IX: Cam`ael

X: Starling

XI: Cam`ael

XII: Starling

XIII: Cam`ael

XIV: Starling

XV: Cam`ael

XVI: Starling

XVII: Cam`ael

XVIII: Starling

XVIV: Cam`ael

XX: Starling

XXI: Cam`ael

XXII: Starling

Exodus: Cam`ael

DEDICATIONS

I dedicate the many sleepless nights, cups of coffee, massive migraines, indecisiveness, anxiety dreams and nightmares that went into bringing this saga to life to the two people that I live each day for — I love you La’Bria and Andrew Jr. Thank you son for your creative vision, talent and assistance.

This book is purely fiction, any and all events, persons, places or names mentioned in this book relating to or resembling anything, place, event or person existing or dead is purely for fictional purposes and strictly coincidental.

". . . And he said unto them, I beheld Sa'tan as lightning fall from heaven. Behold, I give unto you power to tread on serpents and scorpions and over all the power of the enemy: and nothing shall by any means hurt you. (Luke: 10, 18, & 19)

"From the spirit realm, know that they are always watching.

As you read this text right now, you are being watched.

They see you. We all do.

Darkness and the beings within are perceptive to emotions.

They pick up on anger, hate, doubt, and loss of faith very well.

We all can hear every breath and whisper, right down to each swallow; and we’re experts on distinguishing the beating of a heart in love, lust, and fear. Human frailty can be both an advantage and a disadvantage.

Unless you are a divine chosen, know that they see you but you will never see them — they are everywhere — always."

-- Cam`ael, Former Chief Angel of all Powers-

ADVENT: Starling

The time was nine fifteen p.m., according to the scrolling LED at the bank across the street. I hurried across the parking lot from the Barnes and Noble, where I apparently hadn’t bought anything let alone remembered how, when, and why I had gone there in the first place. Wait, why I was walking anyway? I had a car but as I scanned up and down the curb amid the other parallel parked cars for my black Honda Civic, I didn’t see it anywhere.

I should be panicking because I think I parked it here, but its absence strangely didn’t seem to bother me. The sidewalks were busy and the stores continued to carry on with business as usual; alive with the sounds of mostly laughter, the chatter of conversations, and the blaring of a car horn every now and then. Exhaust, cinnamon rolls, Chinese, and Italian food all intermingled together to create a unique, nostalgic aroma that rode in with the breeze of the cool night air. This district was deemed the college student Mecca but tonight —I didn’t recognize any of the people that I typically saw out and about.

I didn’t give the scenario much thought. In fact, I wasn’t really sure where I was going now. I glanced around at all the unfamiliar faces that paid me no special attention but there were definitely things that abruptly caught mine. There was only one other time that I had seen so many of them prowling in hordes like this.

I froze and gaped in shock, not so much in fear but uncertainty because I knew the reason they were here. They were searching and they were coming…for me.

Among the clueless, nameless faces of people I saw dark shadows snaking in and out on the hunt. They were Soul predators. Lots and lots of twisted shadows moving like some covert malevolent army, liberally spreading what they brought best—disaster, violence, death, and destruction.

There was a sudden flash of bright red that bathed the entire scene in a hellish, flickering glow. Within a split second of time immediately after that, the familiar college town scene of deli’s, store lights, and pedestrians out for a bite to eat, heading to classes or walking their dogs, were left awed and in complete stunned stupors.

I remained paralyzed, my backpack sliding off of my shoulder and hitting the ground without a sound as ice needles stabbed at the surface of my skin all over. I dreaded that I knew exactly what was happening and it was as if time, sound, and all movements slowed to a crawl and then ceased altogether.

Suddenly, nearly all traces of artificial man-made light failed and plunged us into darkness, save for the moon and its freakish red glow. That was when chaos, confusion, and fear broke out like a plague.

Blinded, people were screaming, panicking, praying, and hurting themselves in futile attempts to escape or hide. There would be no point. I knew better.

Confirmation came when the last natural remaining sources of light fell from the sky in glittery trails and the moon began to bleed. Beneath my feet, the earth rumbled violently, angrily splitting into one enormous rift that pulled everything in its path into its smoldering, yawning mouth, and adding tangible, fierce heat to the already eerie and fiery red illumination.

The cacophonous beating of what sounded like a million wings, followed by shrill, unearthly growling, howling, and shrieking pierced the darkness —coming from inside of the rift and everywhere at once it seemed. Bats? Birds?

I lost my balance, fell and was stepped on more times than I could count until I spied a nearby car parked along the curb. The red illumination of doom radiating from the new moon would have to be my guide. People were crying and screaming as I maneuvered my way through the mayhem of legs, feet, falling glass, and debris in the darkness. I felt my way and crawled along as swiftly as I could pull myself on my elbows against the burning rough pavement, which left my forearms raw. I ignored the pain, pushing my way towards the shadow of the Cadillac and hurriedly rolling beneath it as if it would really offer protection and safety from what was happening and about to come.

It was dark under here but I could clearly see around the outer edges of the Cadillac through the glimmer of the raging fires in the distance. My heart continued to hammer wildly, being fueled by fear and adrenaline. The asphalt was hot beneath me and the thunderous rumbling, which was growing louder, continued from within the earth and reverberated throughout my body.

I cocked my head to the right. Someone was praying but I could only make out a few words. It was a man’s voice. His words were choppy, . . . forgiveness of my sins . . . faith. . . He was abruptly cut off followed by diabolical, mocking laughter, and after his short scream of terror, I heard something wet like flesh being ripped, bones breaking, and then…suckling. Bile burned my esophagus. I wanted to scream as my body went numb with terror. It was too dark to see what had happened to him, thank God, but I did see dark silhouettes morphing and dancing over his lifeless form— laughing in triumph. I wanted to pray myself but would it even matter? It hadn’t for him.

Mewling or what sounded like crying turned my attention upwards above me towards the front of the Cadillac. Though I didn’t want to see, didn’t want to know what was making that sound, I looked anyway because I had to help if I could manage to this time. A stroller had been tipped over and a baby screamed. It was wrapped up inside the bundle of blankets that had tumbled out.

My gut wrenched but I didn’t even pause to let my fear paralyze me. I turned over onto my belly to crawl towards the baby in order to grab and pull it towards me quickly. I was willing to offer my own body as a shield but I was too late.

To my frozen horror, something dark and wicked, resembling a mutant vulture with glowing green eyes, swooped down swiftly and snatched up the bundle just as my fingertips grazed the blanket. I couldn’t even make a sound to scream or cry out myself. Terror and heartbreak were an understatement.

I felt both guilt of failure and hopeless —now awaiting my own death. Would I be snatched like that too? Would I be crushed under the Cadillac? Torn apart? Torn apart by what? What had that thing been? The sudden, rancid combination of wet feathers, feces, rotten flesh, and fur mixed with burnt earth made me retch and I could taste it in the back of my throat. It was tortuous since I already had a hard time breathing amid the acrid smell of smoke, the reek of the dirty engine, and old gasoline above me.

A whoosh of fire brought on the sickly smell of burning flesh this time. Hearing all the tortured screams around me made me believe this was truly Hell. The Earth had literally turned inside out. This nightmare was nesting the horrors of what lie waiting for us in its core since the dawn of time. I didn’t want to see or hear anymore as I shut my eyes and pressed my hands over my ears. Blinking the wetness and irritating dust from my eyes, I turned my head to the left, barely able to make out silhouettes of movement outlined by the distant flaming fires and thick smoke.

What I did see stilled my breath and my blood turned to ice.

Against the background of more bloodcurdling screams, a pair of bare feet and calves stepped slowly, unblemished but streaked with a black substance. Trailing behind— were the tips of what looked like a shadowy cape. No…I heard birds screeching and I smelled wet feathers…black feathers…Wings?

I tried to force my legs to move but they betrayed me with a mind of their own, feeling like cold, dead, and useless stumps. I was shaking and my heart thundered erratically, practically in my throat.

If I thought fighting to stay alive would be an option I’d at least try but I don’t think I would have lasted long. I then began to ruminate over my lackluster life and all the accomplishments that would never be realized just as the Cadillac was flipped over in one swift motion— completely exposing me. My eyes widened in both horror and awe at what towered above me. Seven feet of chiseled muscle, nearly naked. Grand, immense, white wings spread wide open but were ruined with black plumes of feathers and marked with sinister streaks of blood.

He wore a dark loincloth against his copper-colored skin. The wicked-fanged smile on his animalistic, contorted, inhuman face stared down at me, threatening malevolent intent as if already victorious.

The odor of sulphur, burnt earth, decaying flesh, and moldy, wet feathers became more defined now and it made me cringe and gag.

His voice was ethereal yet wickedly grave and resonating. He said something in a strange language that I had never heard before, but he clearly said my full name at the end as he reached out a large hand for me.

Staaarrrlliiing? He lingered the sound of my name in more of a question.

Though it was hard to understand him through his vicious, shark like teeth, my name had been pretty damned clear. He lifted me up by the front of my shirt as if I were a broken doll.

The rough, putrid smell of his flesh right beneath my nose as his knuckles rested just beneath my chin was sickening. His large fisted hand made my head tilt back, forcing me to look up into his terrifying face.

Though I didn’t even try to fight or attempt to wriggle free of his grip, simply because I couldn’t bring myself to touch his flesh willingly, I refused to verify or give away who I was, show fear, or scream. Screaming was pointless once he raised me up high enough to level my face with his. He was huge. Nausea gripped my stomach like a vise. The fear and the stink of him was so real and strong I nearly projectile vomited right into his face—then again, he may just enjoy that.

He was a giant. Every detail of his monstrous features were real enough that all I could do was stare at the dark angel in silence; the sound of my heart hammering its own death March song.

Why do you cower Starling? You will never be able to hide from any of us even in darkness. Remember that! the dark angel chortled. His face then grew enraged with impatience and he shook me hard this time. His breath was like the odor of a thousand rotting dead animals, all crammed into an old heating vent.

I was going to puke. I felt it rising slowly into my esophagus. I purposefully rendered myself catatonic and closed my eyes, not wanting to look at the hideous angel this close up any longer. I didn’t want to give him a reason to continue to threaten me. Then he shook me harder. I couldn’t keep my eyes from snapping open on their own. I was forced to peer into the evil, rictus smile that split his ugly face.

You wanted to save the baby? He asked in a mocking way with a lecherous smirk. Then he laughed, Don’t worry, you will soon make many of your own with him…or maybe all of us. He grinned even bigger, showcasing his uneven shark-like teeth.

I swallowed. My mouth was still as dry as cotton once another powerful wave of nausea hit me. It made me over salivate, dragging a feeling of dread behind to warm and churn in my stomach.

I finally found my voice, and even as it trembled softly from my throat, I managed to speak. Just kill me, please! I managed to spit back in a defiant whisper. I forcefully shut my eyes once again, turning my head away from him.

He laughed maniacally. Kill you? No, not you. Death is final…torture is eternal. We would never kill you.

He growled and grinned, shaking me one last time to force me to look at him but I refused. A sudden, surging heat began to sear and course through my veins, followed by a burst of some strange energy deep within me. It forced me to snap my head up and open my eyes. Purposefully, I locked my gaze onto the flat, onyx orbs that were his eyes, which began to glow like bright, nuclear embers.

I felt instant hatred as a powerful, defiant will begin to morph my fear into rage; the rage to attack—and the attack to destroy this dark being . . . all sinister beings and the shadows alike. What guided my sudden action was something that didn’t feel quite a part of me though it compelled me like a second nature, something I’ve always known.

You’re right. Torture is eternal. I said flatly with determination.

Instantaneously, the dark angel’s entire face was bathed in a dazzling flash of light that completely whited out his features, and then he began to shriek. Before that moment, I managed to catch a brief satisfactory glimpse of the wicked and gleeful expression on the dark angel’s face completely transform—into complete shock and terror.

I: Starling

The dark angel attempted to toss me away from him in reaction to whatever terrified him about me but I refused to let him. I held onto his wrists with all of my strength as he cursed in his strange language; trying to drop me as if I became some vile thing myself. I braced myself, unwavering and never taking my eyes off of him. The burst of my spontaneous strength, bravery, and ferocity in attempting to kill this dark being stunned me. The deep hiss of his voice began to gradually escalate into a higher, more female sounding pitch; calling me Starling and then finally, Star.

My heart was racing, and my adrenaline was surging. My breathing continued to quicken and then . . . a sharp sting of pain burned my cheek. I sucked in a gasp of air and instantly my eyes snapped open. Things around me appeared like odd silhouettes at first but then little by little, everything began to take shape. Soon the familiar surroundings of my apartment living area, furniture, and kitchenette began to transform into solid recognition and clarity.

The images and scent of fires, death, monsters, darkness, chaos, the red moon, and thr Cadillac…were all completely gone.

Someone was standing above me, shaking me. I caught sight of the long, thin arm pull back with an open palmed hand, apparently about to strike me. That realization swiftly sharpened my vision and allowed me to refocus instantly.

I recognized my best friend and roommate China’s pale face looming over me with brows knitted together in worry. China was lean and being taller than me made her appear giant and threatening to me in my still lingering, hyped and confused dream state.

Her hair was a tangled mess, hanging in her eyes as she brought her hand down once more, but I caught it and stopped her inches before she struck me again.

Hey! I exclaimed as I shoved her away from me. I was still shaken, my brain and my muscles continued to protract with a mixture of both fear and adrenaline. She stumbled backwards into the armchair and fell into it with a startled look on her face. Her mouth formed an ‘O’ as she watched me carefully.

The thin material of my tank top clung to me uncomfortably both damp and cool with sweat. My chest was still heaving from the remnants of the extremely vivid and action-packed dream that left me breathless with my heart continuing to pound wildly. I could conversely sort of feel the heat of the fires and hot asphalt on my skin and faintly smell the scent of burning metal, gas, and pungent wet feathers in the back of my throat. I swallowed and took a moment to comprehend the fact that it had all been a dream. Right?

My eyes subsequently darted frantically around and then I glanced down at myself. I was still in my tank top and boxer shorts, which was what I usually wore to bed. Now, I was standing in the middle of the living area with a burning cheek.

I was okay.

I’m alive and okay, I thought as I examined my forearms and skin for marks.

There were no burns or scrapes of any kind that I could see. I rubbed them absently anyway, remembering all of the other vivid sensations that I felt in the dream, too.

Jesus Star, you had me scared to death. Are you okay? She asked as she stood up again.

Why were you slapping me? I whispered as I rubbed my still tingling cheek in confusion.

You were fighting me, so I had to. I’m sorry— I didn’t know what else to do and you were really freaking the hell out of me. China ran a hand through her hair and then gestured with a sweep of her arm toward the kitchen, I came out to get something to drink and you were lying under the coffee table. I’m like, w-t-f? I wasn’t sure what you were doing there and your eyes were open. You seemed to be looking right at me but you weren’t responding to anything I was saying. Shit, I thought you were seizing or something so I shoved the table over, picked you up and tried to slap you out of it. Then you grabbed onto me and wouldn’t let go. She explained.

I paused to ruminate over what she just told me and her story made sense. Well I think you took a little extra pleasure in that personally though. That hurt. I then said irritably.

She grinned and shrugged her shoulders innocently. Sorry.

I pressed my lips with a sigh and turned around to look at the floor behind me in brief confusion. Sure enough, the coffee table had been tipped over askew and I apparently had been under it…under the Cadillac.

I should have known it was just a dream. It was one of many with the same themes, and though the dreams have been escalating for a while now, this one had been completely different— aside from the fact that I’ve never had any kind of interaction or dialogue in any of my dreams before. I had always been the observer and lost amid the chaos.

Accompanied by all the other horrific images, this time . . . I had been hunted down and the dark angel had known exactly where to find me. Worst of all, he knew my full name and not just him, he said ‘We’ as if they all knew my name and were going to torture me eternally.

That threat could have meant anything symbolically but for some reason, I took it literally.

The thought provoked a feeling of fear, dread, and hopelessness in me; especially when I thought back to the baby I couldn’t save and what the dark angel had said to me about having many of my own with ‘Him’. Who was him or them for that matter?

So, are you okay? China asked me softly. Her jade green eyes searched my face with concern after I snapped out of my own thoughts and looked at her.

I sighed and nodded, wiping the sweat from my forehead and feeling matted wisps of curls stuck against my damp skin. I inhaled a deep, cleansing breath and swallowed again to calm myself. I attempted to block the last images of the realistically charged dream from my brain completely but it was no use.

China retreated into the kitchen. I’m gonna get you some water. I mean, I know you’re never supposed to wake a sleepwalker and now I know why, but I figured I was doing you a favor. This is the first time I’ve seen you do something like this. Was it another end of the world nightmare? She then asked.

Physically moving in my sleep was the first time for me.

I’d never slept walked before in my life but this particular dream had been just that real.

Yeah, pretty much. I said rubbing my eyes into more focus.

Do you want to talk about it?

I took one last look at the coffee table before turning it onto its legs and setting it straight again and then headed into the kitchenette, pulling out a barstool. I plunked down on it and rubbed my face with both hands, elbows resting on the bar counter top as she slid a cold bottle of Dasani in front of me. I eyed it for a moment in deep thought, inhaling and exhaling slowly once again, and then rolling my head in a circular motion to work out the stiffness in my neck.

Not really. There’s nothing much to talk about. It’s the same stuff. I told her taking the cold plastic bottle and unscrewing the cap.

She paused for a moment and watched me, taking a long drink of her own water.

I took my own long sip, feeling grateful for the cold fluid as it flowed through me instantly. It quelled the residual heat of dying adrenaline still coursing throughout my body.

You’re starting to look more and more like Uncle Fester’s love child, girl. Nothing that night cream and a few cucumber slices won’t cure though. She then chuckled.

I frowned, Thanks. What time is it?

A quarter past three in the morning. You seriously need more rest and you’re obviously not getting it when you dream like that.

No, but I’m certainly burning a hell of a lot of calories that’s for sure. I smiled while rubbing my eyes.

China pressed her lips in a thin smile and looked at me wanly.

Funny. You know stress is the main cause of nightmares. I mean, maybe…maybe…you should consider sleeping pills or talking to someone. She then said carefully.

I looked up at her almost accusingly.

She put her bottle of water down and held up her both of hands in a placatory manner.

No, no I know what you’re thinking but that’s not what I’m meaning at all. I just think that maybe these nightmares may be linked to something you’ve been repressing. She then said.

I eyed her.

Something like what? I asked her.

She licked her lips in hesitation, her eyes averting from mine for a few seconds as she took another long gulp of her water.

I knew where she was about to go with this again. It’s what I had thought at one point myself but I was over the grief… or at least I had moved past it. I learned to deal with it on my own a long time ago.

She took her time and continued, It may help you. I don’t like seeing you like this and lately it seems to be getting worse. It makes you boring and bitchy. I care about you Star, you’re my best friend. She then soothed.

My mouth fell slightly. Boring and bitchy? Katrina was seven years ago, China, and these dreams have nothing to do with hurricanes. I defended her, still trying to figure out what she meant by boring and bitchy.

Boring maybe, I’ll give her that but I was not a bitch.

She went on, No, but honestly— from what you’ve told me, and that fact that you see things like shadows and stuff all the time, which could be representations or manifestations of other things deep within your subconscious, it may be a possibility. I just think that the themes centered around the end of the world, being that you lived through and survived the horrors and devastations of what may have seemed like the end of the world to you directly as a child. It may be something that you haven’t addressed or gotten past yet and it’s trying to resurface itself. China explained like a seasoned psych major giving a graded dissertation on tragedy and the subconscious mind.

I’ve been seeing shadows and other weird phenomena practically since I was born. So how do you explain that Professor Braswell? I reminded her.

She appeared thoughtful. I know but what I meant is…maybe since you are afraid of the dark, it could be a coping mechanism that shows up as shadows or in your nightmares whenever you’re stressed. You might have something going on your subconscious that you might not be aware of. She went on to explain.

I looked at her inquisitively, wondering if there had been a recent Dr. Phil marathon on television that China may have been watching and then I smirked.

That was deep and profound Dr. May I ask when you switched your major to psychology? I thought you were a public media affairs geek? I then teased.

She burst into a giggle and even I had to laugh at that one.

Well, I’ve got my diverse psychology hat on right now and all joking aside, I’m serious. At least let me get you some Ambien’s or something. What with finals coming up, She rolled her eyes and sighed, And I know you’re not going to cut back your time at the hospice or the Y; you’re gonna need all the rest you can get. She then said.

I shook my head no. I’ll figure something out. You know I don’t like taking pills like that. I told her.

Well, you’ve never done this sleep walking stuff before either. I’m only trying to help in case I’m not here one night. She then said.

I’ll be okay. Maybe I shouldn’t have finished the rest of my spicy lo mein so late last night.

What? China chuckled with a quirked brow.

I smiled weakly. My grandmother always told me, never eat spicy food before bedtime because it causes nightmares. I then told her.

Her eyes widened, and she nodded in thought with a fist on her cocked hip.

You know, I’ve read about that too from some medical website before. It’s a possibility but with you, I sincerely doubt it. Anyway, it won’t hurt to take some just for a few days to catch up on your sleep at least. I think we need either some retail or club therapy while we have the time. Midnight’s blues is having a happy hour tomorrow night from four to eight. She grinned.

I looked at her wryly. Yeah, that’s helpful considering that neither of us is twenty-one and college town is cop central. I replied as I took another long swig of water.

Star, you are such a cube. You seem to be forgetting that we have connections. How about Zen to Five then? Not in college town and happy hour is the same time there too. She persuaded with a grin.

I’m not gonna risk Joel getting into trouble for us. I replied.

Zen to Five is a popular sushi karaoke bar on the outskirts of college town owned by my other best friend, Joel Carson’s aunt and uncle.

China rolled her green eyes at my negativity. You preach about that every single time. Don’t worry, he won’t. I’ll talk to him. So if I can get it all set up will you go? I mean if anything— killer sushi, come on. She added and nudged me to consider it. I shrugged a shoulder and sighed.

I don’t know. Maybe. I answered; finally giving in and closing my eyes, momentarily thinking about the dream again.

Well, I’ll round up the posse anyway so we can make this happen. She smiled excitedly.

Personally, I think I needed something stronger than getting wasted to get a break from all the haunting visions and nightmares—like a lobotomy or something.

Guess I’ll catch up on some homework then. I don’t wanna go back to sleep. I sighed as I slid off the barstool and headed towards my room.

Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it? Were there demons in this one, too? She called out to me.

I turned to face her as I stepped into my room, about to close the door. Not just demons and if there’s any significance to it then believe me— you won’t wanna know anyway. See ya this afternoon. I said closing my door.

II: Starling

I actually arrived to my first morning class early after stopping for a quick breakfast of an overripe banana, strong, sludge-like espresso, and chasing it all down with a five-hour energy drink.

Not smart.

The caffeine high was cooking my brain now; assembling and carrying out both thoughts and actions before I could even physically act on them, so I hoped no one mistook me for being some sort of speed or meth addict. I thought I’d have hours before the ugly crash and burn but no— I was paying the price now…during the most mind-numbing class on my schedule.

China was right.

This lack of sleep was killing me physically. Maybe I was so far under with fatigue that I have been hallucinating.

No, I knew better.

The things I see and dream about have been with me since childhood, but this was the first time I had actually physically moved from one room to the other without realizing it though. It worried me because who was to say next time I wouldn’t end up outside somewhere on the campus lawn, in the parking lot, or possibly half naked in the middle of the corridor and get locked out?

I tried to stave off an oncoming yawn as I glanced at the time on the display of my cell phone. Eight fifty two in the a.m. and I was aching with exhaustion. My eyes burned and watered as my mouth opened of its own volition. I took in a suction of breath that morphed into a long, obnoxious yawn, taking my body temperature down a few more notches to prepare for sleep or a coma.

I’ve survived being in comas before as a child. Being ill to the point of death and wishing I would just die to end several times in my life before, and of course, surviving one of the most major, devastating natural disasters of all time.

Hurricane Katrina.

Even the emotional loss of my parents and my Grandmother couldn’t equal the fear and devastation that I both felt and witnessed in these recurring nightmares. My experiences have all been really, really bad but the events in my dreams would make all of that seem like simple annoying obstacles at best.

If I could describe just a few of my dreams to anyone, it would sound like the ranting of a person one step away from being committed to an insane asylum.

Thousands of space ship looking things in the skies; massive tidal waves and walls of water all over the world; huge mutant scavenger birds; the earth opening up and thousands upon thousands of demons, angels, warriors, and armies of both light and dark all coming from the deep depths of the earth and the sky. Yeah, that would about sum up my history of nightmares in one paragraph.

I had no gifts. I was no psychic or clairvoyant and I certainly don’t claim to be the religious type, but if what I had witnessed in my dreams were actually going to happen in some way, shape, or form—it would shut everyone up no matter how much money you had, what you chose to believe or not believe in, or what religion you were.

It was all draining and maddening because having the dreams alone didn’t count being constantly stalked and occasionally taunted by those black shadows and spirits for years, ever since I can remember. I only trusted my grandmother, China, and Joel with the details of my experiences and what I could see. Joel used to tell me that he could see things too, but he never paid them any attention … almost as if he didn’t acknowledge them, then they didn’t exist. I believe in all of it though. Good and evil do exist and they have to be represented by something.

The darkness for one, is something that I’ve been afraid of since my childhood.

My grandmother had told me that she’s already known of my ability, or curse, in seeing them. She said that she knew why but she wouldn’t tell me those reasons until the time was right for me to be able to understand it as a gift. That time never came or maybe she just forgot about it, I suppose.

She got really sick five years ago and passed away in a hospice while in a coma. Her health had deteriorated when she caught severe pneumonia and an aggressive tumor growth in her brain had been discovered.

Though I perpetually wondered what she wanted to tell me, I never pressed her for it. Even when my parents were alive, she had always been the one to take care of me when they worked and traveled. We had been very close.

My grandmother was a wise, beautiful, strong, and deeply religious woman. Her take on that issue was that religion was in the heart of the beholder and that each one of us has our own unique relationship with God or whatever the person believed in as their God.

I missed her so much.

Even though China and Joel kept what I told them to themselves, which is why we were all such good friends, I knew that hearing about it freaked them out underneath the surface of their thoughts and I couldn’t blame them. Joel seems more accepting and understanding than China does about certain things, and that in itself was a unique connection we had established and maintained as friends. I think that’s why we hit it off so easily right off the bat when we first met.

After so long, seeing shifting shadows or faceless masses of dark movement out of the corner of my eye has become as normal as seeing clouds and birds in the sky. I’m no longer as frightened as I used to be, knowing that they’re always around. Shadows are just the elemental parts of despair and evil.

It was the physical demons that terrified me the most.

I typically saw shadow beings and faces roiling menacingly among large masses of people. They usually look for potential victims to influence or someone to siphon negative energy from, and they were more prevalent in the dark, for some reason. That’s why I never slept in complete, total darkness.

I had to leave some source of light burning, whether it be the television, dim lamp, or a night-light. It’s silly and juvenile I know but if anyone could get a glimpse of the things that I’ve seen both in real life and in my dreams— they’d completely understand why.

I never stuck around when I saw any kind of frenzied dark shadow activity because I knew better. Every time, both the outcome and the results have always been the same. Destructive and tragic.

I felt guilty though because I had this sort of visual advantage but there was nothing I could do to stop, warn, or prevent something from happening without looking insane or crazy. I did in the past but it didn’t go very well.

I was new here to Indiana when I got accepted and started my freshman year at the University of Indiana at Bloomington last year. I had gone back to Key West Florida with my grandmother after the disappearance and supposed deaths of my parents in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. During my senior year there, I had begun applying for colleges anywhere that there was no ocean— so I wasn’t really picky on which college I chose.

I don’t even know why I was here. I only decided to go to college because it was the one thing I promised my grandmother that I’d do. She encouraged me to go out and see the world on my own, that the world held far too much beauty and experiences to stay stuck in one place. She had hope and faith in the bigger scheme of things regarding humanity, and maybe that was where I got some of my personal ideologies from.

That’s all changed for me since then.

What with everything going on these days and news stories about people going on killing rampages…I couldn't care less about ‘seeing’ this self-destructive world that would meet its cataclysmic and horrific end soon, according to my dreams.

So anyway, I go by Star but my full name is Starling. I’m sure it was cute to my mother when I was two but as I got older, I found Star more mature sounding. When I started junior high that’s what I started to go by.

My mother and Grandmother, both of native Jamaican and Spanish descent, were the only ones who had ever been allowed to continue to call me Starling.

My father was white. More specifically of French and Canadian roots and he had been a Master Sergeant in the Army. He had been on vacation in the Caribbean Islands when he met my mother in Jamaica and within ten months, they got married—coincidentally, a month after I was born.

That makes me what some would consider, mulatto or Creole. I do get mistaken for either Spanish or Caucasian at times, especially in the winter when I can get pretty pale and because of my hair texture, but I pretty much maintain my light beige skin color all year long.

Well, my personal reverie over the past, along with the endless droning of Professor Phillips monotone voice wasn’t helping me at all, and it certainly wasn’t killing any time. I sighed glancing at the time again.

Only eight minutes had passed since my initial yawn.

How could I be crashing after only an hour since my caffeine binge?

I felt my lids begin to droop yet again and my head commenced to fall forward, making me jerk involuntarily. That woke me up and now I was feeling somewhat like an idiot and embarrassed knowing that someone— especially Joel who was sitting beside me, had just seen that.

If I had known that philosophy was this damned philosophical, I would have chosen to take it after lunch instead of eight a.m. in the morning. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good debate and discussion on plausible theories and issues but today was not one of those days.

Why had I taken Philosophy anyway? Oh that’s right. I thought it would be an easy A even though it held no benefit for me career wise … to which, I still had no idea what I wanted to do let alone what degree path I wanted to pursue either.

I’ve already changed it twice.

Professor Phillips’ sudden, rigid, sharp voice startled me. Miss Roberts, would you care to read the notes that we took yesterday on Lombroso’s theories and beliefs?

My eyes widened fully with false attention and I stiffened like a child who had been caught picking their nose. I sat up, confused for a moment. I attempted to stall by sifting through the incomplete notes that I had scattered in front of me, of no relation to the context of the discussion apparently, and then cleared my throat.

Um, I began.

The immediate shuffle of papers whispered all around me and heads turned in my direction, followed by sighs of annoyance from behind. Out of a group of sixty people he’s able to single me out? Was I day snoring too? You know, that moment where you haven’t quite fallen asleep but all the sounds around you fade out, and the only one that finally shocks you back to focus just as you fall asleep is the sound of your own snoring?

I knew he was doing this on purpose. I’m an adult, if I wanted to sleep it was my own decision and fault if I missed anything, wasn’t it? This isn’t high school. My mind wanted to scream at him.

Professor Phillips was a broad man with an extensive, yet doughy torso, small paunch, and sticks for legs. He looked to be in his late fifties and always seemed so damned serious, miserable, and annoyed. I find it sad for anyone to walk through life like that and it made me wonder if he ever laughed, told a joke, or just did something corny for the hell of it. Making practical jokes by virtue of picking on me of all people right now— didn’t count.

Maybe that was why that large shadow over his head was swirling above him, dipping in and out of the corners, sliding down the walls like ooze, and lingering just above his head. It had distracted me and I watched it with intensity as it formed faces in the roiling smut of itself, leering at me, as if giving me a raspberry and then baring its sharp teeth would either scare me or hurt my feelings.

The shadows were nothing more than extremely ugly, juvenile, immature, conniving, evil, and malicious entities that fed off of anger, fear, pain, hate, and sorrow. The fact that here at all made it known that in this very room at this particular moment, there was much of that going on right now and it was sucking it all up. My guess, as it hovered above Professor Phillips, was that he was the one inviting it in the first place and I wondered what his issues were.

He eyed me patiently, loving every moment of the fool he was making of me with that dead serious look on his miserable little face. Crap, where were my notes? Hadn’t I written anything down?

Damn. Maybe I could try and BS my answer by memory and pretend to read something from one of the papers that I did have.

I felt a light tap on my left thigh along with the crinkling of paper. I glanced over, using just my eyes, and saw Joel inconspicuously holding a sheet of paper with something he had written just now. He remained cool and casual, leaning on his right hand while keeping his expression blank.

I read the dark pen he scrawled in big letters in the middle of the page: ‘He’s setting you up… comment on being programmed to conform to society,’ it read. I glanced at Joel with a quirked brow. It was hard to see his eyes past his thin framed silver glasses but I didn’t need to.

I’m waiting, Miss Roberts. Professor Phillips spoke again.

His voice echoed throughout the auditorium as if making sure to get every single person's attention if he hadn’t already. Then he began pacing next to his podium with hands in his pockets, his eyes never leaving me.

I heard more sighs of impatience and whispers. Another moment passed while I put together my thoughts.

Um, society’s basis for what’s normal has always been based on beliefs that come from religion and spirituality, like right and wrong, I began and trailed off amid the groans and suction of teeth.

I was used to this sort of thing, never having really been the popular type let alone a genius, and not quite an honor roll student. My only claim to fame was having been captain of the girls’ gymnastics team throughout junior high and high school.

I ignored the annoying, underhanded ridicule. Joel straightened in his seat, about to come to my rescue and aid by making an initial comment but Professor Phillips beat him to the punch.

Ah, so you are paying attention. Alright then, and what if there were no religion to gauge right and wrong? What if society had no basis to judge it, other than the simple behavior and mental capacity of man alone based on scientific studies? Should those behavioral theories and conclusions be disregarded even if they have merit? Is that what you mean? He said, meaning to sound sarcastic, snarky, and humorless.

It angered me that he was mocking and twisting what I was trying to say.

No, I meant that people tend to do things because everyone expects them to, whether it's right or wrong because they want acceptance. I licked my lips, shifted into a more confident posture, and continued on, It’s human nature but it doesn’t always mean their actions are the right or moral thing to do. Without religion, God, or the Devil…what is true, wrong or good, and evil based on and who or what else could possibly define it? I came back with a raised brow to challenge his snarky ridicule of me. I think I may have succeeded based on the expression that morphed his face.

Well, it was either that or the fact that the dark shadow looming over his head a few moments ago, had slowly entered him through the side of his neck. At that moment, I held my breath and watched as his whole demeanor, composure, and focus on me— instantly changed.

He pursed his lips into a tight frown and then he briefly glared at me. Snorting impatiently he said, Quite profound but since this isn’t World Religions, none of it applies to the current discussion, Miss Roberts. As a matter of fact, I’d like for you to see me in my office after class, if you please.

His tone had changed. I detected a bit of . . . anger.

Was I the only one?

My pulse raced.

More snickers and whispers.

Why? I asked with furrowed brows.

He gave me a matter-of-fact expression that hinted sarcasm.

I’d like to finish this conversation for more of your viewpoints. I find them quite fascinating and I’d like to go over your last paper with you, too. He simply said and then continued on with the lecture.

Joel gave me a sympathetic look and then leaned over to whisper with a grin.

That was a good one. He’s a staunch ass hole. Your answer and your paper were perfect, so don’t sweat it. You want me to wait and go with you? He asked.

What about my last paper? I thought I had done an immaculate job or was I just assuming his request to go over my paper entailed something bad?

Then again, seeing his demeanor and knowing the dark shadow never made an exit, I was freaking out.

I smiled at Joel. Thanks but unfortunately, he’s in command of my grade. I can handle Phillips. I whispered back.

Throughout the rest of class, I could see Joel glance at me out of his periphery. The glint of his glasses whenever he shifted or moved his head was a dead giveaway, but I remained facing forward as if I cared about Professor Phillips’ lecture. I was hearing nothing while still desperately trying to fight the urge to lie across both my and Joel’s desk and just sleep.

When class was over, and everyone began to gather their things amid conversations that were picking up in volume; both Joel and I followed suit in relief. I noticed him pause to look at me for a moment while gathering his notes.

Have you been feeling okay? He asked sincerely.

Oh great, I guess my transformation into Uncle Fester’s love child, as China had said this morning, was more evident than I thought. I don’t do make up that often unless I went out and things like that, but I guess I should have this morning just to cover them up.

I smiled and tried to appear as bright and cheery as possible.

Yeah, just pulling all-nighters lately. I’ve got a few tests and thesis papers coming up due. I partially lied.

Are you sure? he asked again, trying to read past my fake smile.

I must really look like crap. Now, I was beginning to feel self-conscious although I know that he was just being a good friend. I appreciated it.

Uh-huh. I nodded to assure him.

Ok. Well, hey, don’t burn yourself out though and I mean that. I think we could both use some r and r. How is breakfast to start? He said but I could tell that he didn’t entirely buy my explanation.

My stomach growled at the mention of food and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Magic words. Breakfast sounds so good and I am starving so I’ll try not to keep you waiting.

Sweet. Text the code word and I’ll come save you, seriously. He smiled.

I just may need to do that. I replied.

~~~***~~~

I took my time on purpose.

Professor Phillips certainly wasted no time gathering his briefcase and laptop before casting one last fixed glare at me, and then exiting through the side entrance of the auditorium. I blew out a short sigh and licked my lips. Something told me not to bother meeting with him, other than the obvious for me since seeing the dark shadow slither into him. He didn’t appear positive, which made me doubt that the discussion over Religion or my paper would be an enjoyable one.

I caught that glare. What the hell is his problem? It’s like he just sat on a cushion of thorns and blames you for putting it there, Joel kidded.

I shook my head and readjusted my pony tail holder. Looks that way. I don’t know, I guess he just woke up with his BVD’s wedged up his ass this morning and I hit a raw nerve.

I could relate right about now.

Joel laughed and nodded in agreement. He’s an egomaniac when it comes to Philosophy and apparently only his interpretations count. I think what you said made every bit of sense and it’s true. You know I believe in all of that, too. I was about to jump in there for you but you beat me to it. People are puppets of their own free will but are driven by their own desires and need for acceptance, no matter the consequences. I agree with you a hundred percent. Joel added.

I stood up and slung my backpack over my shoulder when I finished putting up my books and notes.

I shrugged, "Yeah but maybe he’s

Reviews for Divinity

[wiccawitch4 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

WOW! Amazing Read! I couldn't put the book down. the story was so intricate and the characters so interesting. I love books about fallen Angels and this one has quickly flown to the top of my 10 most loved list.My favourite of all was Cam of course how could it not. He was such a wonderful and heartbreaking character who loved and wanted to be loved so much. He knows he must be with her even if its technically forbidden, and he doesn't much care, As long as she needs him he will protect her. He was the warrior and the protector and no matter his circumstance he never compromised or changed himself for anyone. Star was an incredible individual who didn't take crap and even though she was scared stood up for herself and others. Her story was tragic and heartbreaking but she didn't let it change her life and who she was. Her Divine gift sets her apart from others and her nightmares drive her to the edge of insanity but still she holds on, never fearing it will all come together in the end.Morning Star was incredible in this book. He was witty, scary and dark as Hell itself. I would not want to come up against him. He is a larger then life character in a lot of peoples eyes which makes it him a hard character to write about and I think Susan nailed it perfectly! I believe that Susan is a amazing author and I can't wait to read more of Cam and Stars story. This is the kind of book that could stand on its own or be put in a series. I think Susan went above and beyond when it came to describing the people and places. The story was incredible the characters witty and fun and the battles epic. If you haven't yet read it get you copy today!