The Stars Forbade Us

By Holly Wentz

Ailya has just died, again; leaving another mortal life lived relatively good but far from pure and not always virtuous. She is returning to the Gray City, a large metropolis located at the Crossing where those like her, not exactly evil just not going to Heaven, live alongside true hell spirits. Many of those spirits are trying to get past the hellhounds that guard the gate into the physical world and she must wait a period of time before attempting the Crossing again. Aliya is a Nephilim, a forbidden child of a fallen angel and a human woman. As a youth before the Great Flood, when her father reigned as a god-king, she met and fell in love with a true angel, Ezi, who was unaware of her heritage until he sought permission from God to marry her. After he is denied and given full disclosure of what she is, he confronts her and leaves in anger. But Aliya is offered an opportunity from God to repent and be redeemed. She must live one truly virtuous mortal life and she will be permitted into Heaven, where she hopes to mend her broken courtship. As of the current day, she has not managed to overcome her lustful nature.

Back on Earth, Jack and Marcy, two recent high school graduates, have stumbled on an authentic book of incantations and rituals, created by followers of the occult in the 1920's. Stupidly, they decide on trying a summoning spell, thinking it would be cool to talk with a real demon. But the spell requires three people and the only other person around is Kyle, Jack’s bully older brother. After bribing him with a month's worth of gas payments and a top-of-the-line detailing for his precious Ford Mustang, he becomes a willing participant. Unfortunately for all involved, Jack's belief coupled with Marcy's feminine and Kyle's masculine is exactly what the spell needs. But instead of something coming out, they all tumble in.

Enter Ailya, who stumbles on the three unjudged souls and hides them before the prowling evils of that world discover them. Hoping to get them back to Earth safely, she takes them to La'sha, a hellhound and friend, at the Crossing. With the help of a fellow Nephilim, Erech, they arrive at the First Gate but learn that the unjudged cannot go through; it apparently doesn't work that way. La'sha tells them to get out of the City while he "calls for help". The disguise Ailya used to hide them is quickly wearing off and Erech comes to the rescue. On the outskirts of the Gray City is the Deviant’s territory before tuning into a Wasteland that leads to the Burning City. When the two hell spirits and three young mortals run into a gang of deviants, Ailya makes to sacrifice herself so that Erech can escape with the unjudged. Luckily, La'sha's help arrives just in time, in the form of two real angels. After saving all five beings, they explain how there is a chasm on the far side of the Burning City that the mortals, securely held by them, can fall into and fall out in the mortal realm. Unfortunately, one of the angels is Ezi who is dismayed by the circumstances he finds himself in with Ailya and livid by the circumstances he finds her in. Together angels, lust spirits, mortals, and hell hound transverse a lurid wasteland to save the humans from damnation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Thomas Nelson
• Release date: Jan 15, 2019
• ISBN: 9781595558886

Holly Wentz

Holly Wentz was raised in a home where she attended the local Methodist Church every Sunday and fellowship for the Church of the New Jerusalem every other week, which allowed a wide range of spiritual education. She has been willing to look out to the fringe stories of the Bible and has discovered many Biblical lessons that remind us that this world is only a very small part of the awe-inspiring creation of God. She lives in Florida with her husband, children, two dogs, and a dwarf hamster.

Book preview

PART ONE

ALIYA AND EZI

CHAPTER ONE

The room is softly lit in warm yellows with dark wood accents. Aliya stands at the bedside, running her fingers along the old woman’s wrinkled hand as its papery skin grows cold in death. Looking across the bed she smiles gently at the handsome middle-aged man who stares intently at the old woman’s face, visibly struggling to hold back his tears. She always chided him for crying, and now he fights showing his grief at her passing. Sadly she chuckles. Silly boy, she whispers to the man who had been her son and gazes one last time at the woman she had been before turning from the peacefully sad scene. As she turns, the scene and the physical world it belongs to begins to haze and go out of focus until everything is a blur of whispers and dreams.

Only two things are left in sharp relief; Aliya and the large male she now faces, a male she knew before turning would be there. La’sha was always there to escort her back to the Grey City. It wasn’t home, she always reminded herself of that when La’sha arrived. He was not escorting her home, he was only escorting her back to there. Not home. Home was still waiting on her … she hoped.

Hello, La’sha. she sighed, looking up at him.

La’sha was tall with thick corded muscles, as dark and wild as he was beautiful. As a hellhound, his natural state was of a giant beast full of fangs and claws and fur. But in this humanlike form his thick black hair shagged to nearly his shoulders, and its gleaming set off his bright black eyes. Piercing eyes that were currently narrowed at her; his lips forming that strange half snarl half grin she always found endearing, if not a little frightening.

That’s a nice picture. he says, nodding his chin at the quickly fading bedroom, the threads of memories, words, and love unraveling into the Ether. Aliya reaches out to one of the wispy threads as it glides past her, a memory of a day at the beach and finding a starfish.

She smiles, You never forget, you know, the ones you lived among, the ones you were. You never forget, but you remember differently than they do.

Sighing, she lets the mother and son’s entwined memory continue out to join the Celestial then looks above her. She knew there was no reason to look, no reason to wait. This time had not been the one. She had not lived it right, though she could argue she had not spent it too wrong either. If she were to argue, she would say she lived a good if not righteous life, but there was no argument in this arrangement. The rules were very clear and she was lucky the opportunity was even offered. No, she just paused and looked up for no other reason than that she had a chance to do so. She always wondered if he was there, just beyond the dark. She wondered if he was just there, looking back at her. If she reached up, would he reach down? Unconsciously, she began to raise her arm. La’sha cleared his throat in impatience.

Ready? he barks, stepping back and gesturing into an abyss with one hand while offering his other hand to her. Taking it, she nods in resignation. Ready. she replies.

The abyss doesn’t really exist. It is an illusion created by the Men of Earth, woven by all their fears of what awaits after the physical body dies. If one is too consumed by this fear, the abyss greets them with shackles to chain them in its insubstantial grasp. If one listens in passing through its thin veil, one can hear those trapped there, imprisoned by their own fears. Aliya hated walking through it. No matter how hard she tried, she always listened and she always heard.

One step through and they emerged at the Crossroad, a desolate place with nothing but desert scrub without any desert beauty stretching out as far as the eye could see. The Crossroads themselves were paved with what appeared to be crushed shells, covered for seven yards in the Four Directions. From there, the pavement was different so that they formed a large white gleaming X in the middle of nothing. In one direction, a large wide cobbled road led to the Punishment. It was not a trick, it did not appear the easier road, and the cobbled stones, though they may be large and smooth, radiated a mixture of desperation and hopelessness. It was paved by an eternal caravan of the Damned and the Fallen in their journey to their Judgment. Her father had helped pave that road. She shivers at that thought and looks across to the other way.

That road was mostly dirt, packed clay and crushed stone, it led into the Wilderness and somewhere, far beyond the Desolation, the Burning City sat atop a ridge inflamed with hate and greed and all the wickedness of Hell. Behind her was a short path of pavement that ended in a chasm that yawned out, its other side lost in mist. That way led back to the Physical realm; the Crossroads were the one gate the hellhounds did not guard, for even the winged abominations of Hell could not cross this chasm. Only those with permission to enter the physical world could cross, and there was a far easier gate to pass through.

Putting her back to the chasm left her facing the path she would be taking, a nondescript ribbon of asphalt leading out and in the far distance the Grey City. Parked on the other side of the Crossroad, in place of her own unremarkable hooptey, was a sleek black Cadillac CTS, its chrome accents glinting red and orange in the setting sun.

Is that your car? she said, laughing, while gesturing at the beautiful vehicle.

La’sha scowled at her before glancing at the car then back at her. Yes, why? What’s wrong with my car? He looked such a mixture of insulted, annoyed, and hurt she couldn’t stop from laughing harder. When his eyes flashed red and he clenched his hands to hold back his claws, she immediately sobered.

There’s nothing wrong with the car. she said, trying to sound placating. It’s just I always pictured you in a big ferocious muscle car. I never pictured you a Cadillac man.

Of course, just applying that title to him sets her off cackling again. La’sha growled and actually snapped at her as he pushed past towards the car. Afraid he might just be angry enough to leave her there, she hurried after him and jumped in the passenger seat before he had time to get the key in the ignition.

As he pulled onto the black top, she let down her window to enjoy the open arid air before the crush of the city choked it full of civilization.

I’ll have you know this car has plenty of muscle; she just doesn’t have to go around flexing it. She’s a badass and everyone who sees her knows. She’s just a classy badass.

Aliya had been leaning her head against the door frame to get the full blast from the wind, but she turned at La’sha’s statement. I’m not sure which is more disturbing: that you’re defending the badass reputation of your caddy or the fact that it is not only a caddy but a female.

La’sha flips her off, and then he said the one thing he knew would stop the abuse to his car. So, couldn’t quite pull off a virtuous life this time, huh?

Aliya winces before sighing and leaning her head back against the door. He hated doing that to the little thing, but hey a guy’s car was sacred and deserved defense. Of course, Aliya could use a little defense herself. Looking out of the corner of his eye, he surveyed his charge. Like all of her kind, she was beautiful in the most carnal sense. Her dark auburn hair glinted shades ranging from gold to bronze to black. Her body was a study in the most sexually divine proportions, even tipping to the obscene when it came to the fullness of her breast and roundness of her backside. And her amber eyes were perfectly almond-shaped that sparkled when happy but burned wild when she was lusty—and oh man, was the girl lusty. Of course it was hard to blame her; she had been created in lust, and the nature of her father ensured that lust would always be an ingrained part of her very essence.