A War and A Wedding: The Congregation

By Melissa Service

There will be a War.
There will be a Wedding.
Loyalties will be tested ...

Defying the odds, Ellyce Jensen has been pulled from the tunnels with her best friend and ex-boyfriend, Benson Monroe. They should be relieved the Gray-Eyed man saved them from Rupert and his band of demon soldiers. But seemingly they’ve traded one prison for another.

After escaping, Ellyce and Benson journey through the lands of Efes and Ardor in search of the guardians of these realms. They’ll soon learn not everything is as it seems and the race to secure the future of the seven realms hangs in the balance. Secrets will be exposed. Alliances will be forged. And Ellyce will be tested in ways she never thought possible as the battle between the two ancient kingdoms rages on.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Melissa Service
• Release date: Jun 19, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463903537

Melissa Service

I grew up in a tiny, magical town in Illinois—total population: 800. In 2014, I brought my love of books, a Midwest hankering for a good Horseshoe Sandwich (also known as fat-on-a-plate), and Southern Sweet Tea to sunny SoCal.About an hour north of Los Angeles, I live with my husband, Craig, two of our three kids, and our sweet, slightly neurotic, standard poodle, Eisley. My oldest daughter flies the friendly skies, so if you see a super cute flight attendant named, Elyssa, be sure to say, hello!When I’m not chasing Eisley, or chauffeuring my teens around town, I’m writing.

Book preview

1

Ellyce Jensen dangled her head off one side of the oversized velvety indigo wing-backed chair while her feet hung off the other. An exasperated sigh escaped her lips as she let her father’s book fall to the floor.

It wasn’t that Thomas’ book was bad. On the contrary, the book had become quite entertaining now that she knew it was a series of puzzles that needed to be solved. But after three weeks of captivity with little to no answer as to why the gray-eyed man had pulled her and Benson through the tunnel door and why he had saved her—again—she was growing a little bored with this daily routine.

She had yet to meet someone who had enjoyed being forced to read, no matter how exciting the book was or how many new things they were learning about the author. And after the first week of being held hostage in this castled prison, she had expected to get some answers from her keeper, the tower guardian. But the old man barely spoke. He simply hobbled around her room instead, tinkering with pipes and other things and shushing her.

A lot.

So, there she sat in her room, day after day, staring up at the decoratively painted ceiling, wondering if all the shushing was an employment requirement of the man with gray eyes. She decided it must have been because when the tower guardian did speak, it was only to remind her that she needed to keep acquainting herself with her father’s work.

"To prepare for the battle that is coming, he kept saying, as if that was the only phrase he knew. The man was literally worse than her English teacher at Hayvenhurst High, and he made Mr. Comatose" Combs seem like a Rhodes Scholar.

Ellyce had naively thought that the man had been assigned to help her figure out the clues Thomas had left for her in his books. Clues that would lead her to Derek and then to Thomas himself. But it was clear after yesterday’s afternoon visit that the old man had expected her to do the work of finding Derek and Thomas on her own. And then, to add insult to injury, he casually mentioned on his way out that she needed to stop stalling because once she had exhausted Thomas’ books, he had another set she needed to start on.

No way around it, he said, stopping her objections with his open palm. Neither the comment nor the gesture was well received. Ellyce had rolled her eyes at him as he walked away, but either the old man didn’t see her, or he didn’t care.

She suspected it was the latter.

Ellyce was beginning to suspect that this was how the Lady of Shalott felt. The woman who was locked away from the world was made famous by Lord Alfred Tennyson’s 1832 poem. After spending years of her life weaving on a loom and wishing to be freed from the curse of her towered imprisonment, it was only after catching a glimpse of the brave, handsome knight, Sir Lancelot du Lac (Lancelot of the Lake), riding by the tower toward Camelot that she determined she’d been without company long enough and left the confines of her tower prison.

Ellyce gulped and stretched out over the chair, retrieving the book from the floor. Things hadn’t turn out so well for the woman once she was out of the tower. The Lady had found her knight in shining armor, but not before the tower curse had taken its toll. There would be no happy ending for the Lady of Shalott. But that’s where her story and Ellyce’s differed.

Ellyce settled into the chair, flipped to page 135 of Thomas’ book, Find Me, and took a deep breath. Ellyce’s Lancelot, the boy she knew as Benson Monroe, knew who she was, and he was in this storied castle with her. But she hadn’t seen him since they had arrived, and she couldn’t help but wonder what the gray-eyed man and his associates were doing with him.

And why they were keeping them apart.

2

In the month since Benson and Ellyce had been pulled from the tunnels underneath the Hayvenhurst, California Hall of Records, Jessica Monroe had come face-to-face with the reality that she had married a monster.

She had also come to terms with the fact that in a short span of time, she and half the population of Hayvenhurst were now living among other monsters. Though at first glance, it was difficult to distinguish who was who, and while the levels of humanness between the two groups may not have been clear right away, what was clear was that none of the monsters in these tunnels were concerned about the lives being interrupted by the game that Rupert and his opponent, the kingly Shopkeeper, were playing. The only thing that remained constant in all of this was that all of the monsters—human or otherwise—wanted the same thing from her: information. Information that Rupert believed would secure him an ultimate victory over the king.

The carrot Rupert dangled in front of them must have been extremely valuable or rare, because they all seemed to believe that the first one to get her to open up would secure a place at the top of the food chain in his strange little hierarchy of creatures. Every single monster she came across in these tunnels wanted to know where the Underground Hub was located, and they wanted her to tell them. It was an annoyance she had come up against no less than six times this week, though each interrogation was slightly different than the one preceding it.

First, she was questioned by Jenkins. Then by Lily when Wilson had slipped off to the bathroom, leaving her unattended in the hallway. Next came La’anah while Jessica and Bowman were working in the tunnels passing out food to the overworked volunteers. (Can it really be considered volunteering when celestial beings threaten you and your family?)

Two days later, she was approached by her soon-to-be ex-husband, Jim, who tried to elicit sympathy from her by appealing to her sense of family. Jessica had to work hard not to laugh in his face about that one. When that didn’t yield the results he was hoping for, she was interrogated by both La’anah and Jim at the same time. That interaction stung a little and left her feeling a bit sour and scornful, as though someone had poured salt onto an already festering wound. Jim should have known that tactic would never work, but when you’ve sold your soul to the devil and you’re desperate, she supposed there was nothing to lose.

Her final inquisitor was the devil himself—Rupert.

Though he seemed to be a doe-eyed youth of seventeen or eighteen, there was a confidence and bravado about him that made Jessica realize fairly quickly he was the man with the plan. And the others—including her traitorous, cowardly husband—were merely puppets dangling from his strings.

Sitting quietly across from where Rupert sat feverishly scrawling notes on the pages of a yellow legal pad, a myriad of thoughts ran through Jessica’s mind. How long had he been like this? And in what year had he stopped aging? Had he ever aged? And what on earth could a demon possibly need to write down?

I should have known that you were the one in charge, she said, forcing the conversation.

And how’s that? he asked. He dropped the pen and stared up at her.

Because you’ve been hanging around in the background the whole time. Just waiting and watching. Taking it all in and pretending you were nothing more than the sweet, silent cousin.

Rupert leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head, considering what she was saying. His eyes flickered from a golden amber color to an orangey red, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, knowing she had been right. Besides, she added cautiously, it’s like they say—it’s always the quiet ones you have to worry about.

Well, you Dustlings do like to yap your flaps. Which is part of the reason we weren’t interested in sharing this space. But he thought the plan would be—what was the word he used? He waved his hand in the air sarcastically mocking. "Good."

He?

Rupert ignored her question and shifted his gaze to the ceiling. I mean, I feel as if it’s my job to prove to him that it was wrong. That the decision he made all those years ago was a mistake. A mistake that he needs to take back. A mistake he needs to fix. A thin smile stretched across his face, and his gaze returned to hers. Okay, well, I really just want to hear him admit that he was wrong.

I see, she smirked. And you think we’re the mistake? That there’s no way for harmony to exist?

Rupert leaned in close, staring deep into her eyes. Come on Jessica, he said. You’re not that naive. Look around. You know that harmony cannot exist as well as I do, and I’ve been proving that fact over and over. He broke his gaze and resumed his lazy reclined position once again. I mean, isn’t it obvious? Humans are a virus. You kill and you destroy things. But I don’t blame you. It’s just your nature. You can’t help it.

A killer virus, huh? she scoffed. She brushed at a wrinkled crease in her pants while trying to keep the red-hot anger she felt from flushing into her cheeks.

Come on. You know that as well as I do. How many times has this creation tried to wipe your kind out? How many times has it groaned, trying to get rid of its sickness? Trying to get rid of you? We both know that I’m telling the truth. So, if you’re going to try to spar with me, at least try and act like you’re not surprised by the facts.

My apologies.

He waved the animosity between them away with his hand. Yeah, well, look, I don’t blame you for being in denial. I would be, too, if this was my lot. But I’m trying to wake you up. Get you thinking differently, so that you don’t have to be in the dark.

Given the way he was toying with her, Rupert seemed to be enjoying their verbal banter. This set her on edge. Only psychopaths were this charming, yet brazenly insulting at the same time. Thank you, she murmured quietly before focusing her attention on him. So, what can I do for you today besides irritate you? She asked the question as if she had a choice in the matter, but they both knew that she didn’t. She was merely stroking his ego. Judging from his relaxed stance, she was succeeding.

I require your assistance.

And I’ve already told your partners in crime—

Rupert’s upheld hand silenced her. Let’s be clear about one thing right up front. They are not my equals. I do not answer to them. They answer to me. Do you understand? He pushed himself away from his desk and walked over to where she was sitting. As he leaned against the round edges of the mahogany wood, he grasped the edge of the desk with his unnaturally youthful looking hands. For someone with a whole string of letters behind his name, Dr. Carver’s not one for making quick decisions in the field, especially when it comes to the hard stuff. He’s a bit more of an administrator type, don’t you think?

Jessica grinned, knowing what he was doing. It wasn’t going to work. There was certainly no love lost between her and her boss, Dr. Gary Carver, but she had no intention of being the devil’s advocate, either. "Thank you, but as I told your associates, she said, carefully choosing the word, I’ll have to pass. There’s no way I can help you today, tomorrow, or any time between now and kingdom come—"

The comment set him off. He snarled and grabbed her cheeks, pinching them together between his overly warm fingers. Jessica had always believed that demons or spirits would have been cold because they weren’t human and didn’t have blood pumping through their veins, but Rupert was downright hot. I’ll give you a pass on that last little bit, he said, easing up a little, but remember, Jessica, you’re not the only Monroe down here. Nor are you the only Monroe within my reach.

She pushed her face into his grip. I don’t care about Jim.

Her defiance made him chuckle as he leaned in to meet her gaze. He was half an inch away from her lips when he whispered, icily punctuating each word, I’m not talking about Jim.

They were locked in a battle of wills when Bailey and Kasdaye cautiously entered the room. Rupert’s gaze shifted to Bailey, and Jessica shuddered at the indirect threat. Kasdaye must have understood what was going on because he scowled and stepped in front of her.

Pressing the edges of his blue dress shirt neatly against his body, Rupert composed himself as he stood upright. Jessica, he told her, you are going to do what I want because we both know that eventually I’ll get my way. I’ll win. I always do. So, you should just stop fighting me now.

There was a moment of silence in the room as she considered what he was saying. But when she didn’t acknowledge him, he asked Kasdaye to bring him the orb without so much as a glance in his son’s direction.

Kasdaye threw a curious glance at his father. It was clear to Jessica he wasn’t a fan of whatever the orb was, but he also wasn’t about to question Rupert’s authority in front of them. Moments later, when Kasdaye returned with a large blue glowing ball of fiery energy hovering over his hand, she learned why he didn’t like it.

The ball resembled a mini earth on fire that appeared to be difficult to control, and spit fire everywhere. Kasdaye carefully passed the orb to Rupert and then took his place next to Bailey, clutching her hand tightly.

Show me, Rupert whispered. In the space between him and Jessica, the orb sprang to life, wound itself up, and shot white-hot sparks of fire across the room.

A stray spark landed on Jessica’s shirt, catching the synthetic fabric on fire. She jumped from her chair, screaming as she unfastened the buttons, trying to strip the fabric away from her body. While Rupert looked on, unconcerned, Kasdaye stepped forward and doused the flame with a glass of water. Holding the soggy garment against her chest, Jessica’s mind raced, trying to recall if there had been a glass of water on the desk previously. When she glanced up at Kasdaye, searching for the truth, he simply shrugged.

Seconds later, she jumped when a loud pop reverberated throughout the room. Jessica took a step back, deciding it was best to distance herself from the odd creation of electricity and fire. With the wind-up procedure complete, the orb had transformed itself into a thin, smooth, glassy circle hovering vertically in the air before them. With the exception of the spitting fire incident upon opening, the two-way mirrored device seemed fairly benign.

That is, until Benson’s face appeared before them.

Holding her hand to her mouth, Jessica gasped, longing to reach out and touch his face. A bead of sweat ran down his temple, and he pushed himself along a cramped space reminiscent of a ventilation shaft. His eyes held a look of determination, and there was a small metal tool of some sort between his lips.

Jessica wracked her brain, trying to figure out what was happening, but she couldn’t put it together. Was he working? Or fleeing from something—or someone? Not knowing what was happening left her with an uncomfortable, uneasy feeling, which she suspected was exactly what Rupert wanted.

I know where he and the girl are, Rupert told her. All I have to do is snap my fingers, and my contacts will collect him.

His words should have been a comfort, but they weren’t.

Rupert was trying to determine the price for which she could be bought, and he was using Benson as the bargaining chip. Well, she wasn’t going to fall for it. As she told him earlier, she wasn’t going to work for the devil.

Jessica straightened herself, trying to conceal the flurry of emotions swirling around her. As uncomfortable and disorienting as it was to see Benson like that, what had the orb really shown her?

Nothing.

This could have been a trick—an illusion Rupert created to get her to join his team. She wasn’t going to give him what he wanted. Jessica crossed her arms and inhaled deeply, praying that she was making the right decision. Great, she said. Then do it. Have your people collect him. I’d like to see my son.

Rupert sniffed and flicked his hand to the side. The orb sailed away from him and crashed into the metal filing cabinets lining the wall. Sparks sprayed across the room, but he didn’t care. Very well, Jessica, he said, moving closer to the door. We’ll have it your way for now. But just know this … I will get what I want.

He stopped just shy of the door and motioned for Kasdaye to join him. Fetch Lily for me. There’s something I need her to do. And then take her, he said, giving Jessica a weary, sad glance, "along with that brute of a man she’s been working with, to the main room. She will start doing what I want. Or Kas— Rupert grabbed his arm. You’ll both wish she had."

As Kasdaye tried to pass his father, Rupert’s gaze shifted past his shoulder and settled upon Bailey, leaving little doubt in his mind, or anyone else’s as to what he meant.

In the twilight of sleep, a scratching sound behind the chair startled Ellyce awake. She blinked a couple of times trying to gather her bearings, then wiped the thin line of drool from her face. Cautiously peeking around the side of the chair, she wasn’t sure what she expected to see, but it wasn’t a set of familiar eyes. Benson! she shouted, shoving the chair aside. What are you doing in the vent?

Shhh, he commanded, holding his hand to his mouth. I’m getting you. And we’re getting out of here.

Ellyce awkwardly grasped the thin metal object he slid through the grating. Slowly, she turned the flat tool to the left while in her head she recited the rhyme Thomas had taught her as a kid: Righty, tighty, lefty loosey.

Benson bounced in front of her like a caged animal waiting to be freed. C’mon, hurry up.

I’m doing the best I can with this— She held up the tool. This whatever it is. Where did you get it anyway?

Ignoring her question, he pointed to the bottom of the grate. Just undo that last one. Ellyce obliged, and before she could pull the final screw from its nest, Benson had pushed the grate open into her lap and was hoisting himself up into the room. Engulfing her in a deep, warm hug, he helped her to her feet. Elle, I’ve missed you.

Yeah, me, too, she said. She sheepishly tucked a stray piece of curly hair behind her ear, trying to play it off. Truth be told, she was excited to see him.

Benson bolted the grate back into place against the wall while calculating some numbers in his head. They’re changing shifts downstairs, so we don’t have much time, he said, turning to face her. Maybe fifteen minutes at most.

Fifteen minutes for what?

To escape. Benson quickly collected Thomas’ book from the floor and then pulled the other volumes from the shelf before hustling her across the room. Stuffing the books into her red backpack, he waited by the door until he heard the grandfather clock begin chiming in the hallway. With the last strike of the gong, he smiled and turned the knob, opening the door.

How did you do that? Ellyce asked, but he only grinned. Had it really been that easy? She had tried to open it a couple of times when they first arrived, but the door wouldn’t budge. And then, after that first week, she stopped trying.

Benson ushered her out of the room and into the main part of the castle. In the time they’d been in the tower, she hadn’t ever been outside of her room. But like her room, these rooms were perfectly designed and decorated. Each one tied to the previous one through a common color palette of emerald green, topaz, and sapphire blue.

The hallways had been created with uneven stone tiles hidden by antique carpeted runners, while long tables graced open rooms, and cozy chairs sat clustered in intimately grouped settings around the castle’s numerous fireplaces. The large, curtained windows were offset by a variety