Waite on the Trail of Terror: The Celestial Wars, #5

By John Campbell

An awesome rollercoaster ride packed with a plethora of suspense, a supremely EVIL spirit, and one flawed but irresistible-to-love hero! A defining gamechanger for not only the fiction category but for MULTIPLE genres. In short, if you're an avid reader...you NEED THIS BOOK! —Larry Roy

 

5 out of 5 stars! A true classic is born. This will be a movie one day! —Tank

 

Angels and fallen angels, devils and demons, good and bad gods, dwarves and elves, misunderstood dragons, a super-powered supporting cast of memorable characters, and one flawed but lovable superhero—these action-packed adventures take readers on a roller coaster ride down dark supernatural highways.

 

Harmon Waite has returned from exile on another world to confront multiple threats. Terror upon terror created by the fallen archangel Asmodeus for the end-of-days have been unleashed by that dark one's final fall. Even with the help of his fellow Nephilim, will Harmon be able to stop the destruction raining down on his hometown?

 

1. Waite on the Ripper – a hyper-intense roller-coaster-ride down a dark highway
2. Waite on the Blind Angel – a dangerous cat-and-mouse-game with a fallen archangel
3. Waite on the Hero's Journey – an out-of-this-world parachute jump—without the chute
4. Waite on the Angel of Death – a black-magic-showdown with an entire planet
5. Waite on the Trail of Terror – the ride through a house of horrors to die for
6. Waite on the Antichrist – an end to Harmon's world and the real beginning of

The Celestial Wars - The soul-blessed worlds will never be the same.

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Creative Now
• Release date: Aug 10, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223658115

John Campbell

I love good stories. I remember exactly how I felt when I first read classics like Lord of the Rings, Stranger in a Strange Land, and the Foundation trilogy. I've been writing almost since I started reading. I performed the poems at Sixth Street's Chicago House that eventually became A Week of Years. Then my son came along, and I joined a tech revolution. During two decades at Dell, I accumulated a pocketful of good stories, and Riding on the Coattails of Genius was born. My new series, The Celestial Wars, is set in Austin,  where I've spent the best part of my life. In the first novel, Harmon Waite is a homegrown detective befriended by a pair of Nephilim warriors who help him hunt an ancient evil. Before the twelve novels in this arc are done Waite's realities will be shredded by evils beyond imagination. Get ready for a wild ride down supernatural highways.

Book preview

Chapter one

Chapter One: Mary Catherine Waite

Her name was Mary Catherine Waite, but everyone called her MC. She was a powerful Nephilim, with an archangel lover and an extraordinary child born of that love whose potential might one day surpass her own. A tall blonde valkyrie of a woman, she’d been a prisoner of her own devising for almost a decade. Reft from her only son, isolated from the one she loved, her world had been confined to a mansion perched above one of the vilest chambers of Hell. She hadn’t known just how evil that particular cavern in the underworld was—until today.

A servant in the mansion, she’d been a teacher of the young. She’d also been a light of grace in a deep dark place for those students—a constant solace against the many evils accompany life in a fallen angel's house. The archangel Asmodeus, to be exact. What even they, the ones who loved and worshipped her daily, did not know—she was also a spy for another archangel, a leader of God’s army, a being of immense power with the gentlest touch imaginable. Abaddon, the Angel of Death to be exact.

She’d tried to tell her kids goodbye earlier that day. They were in her small classroom, its walls adorned with student artwork. Various tests in Math, English, and the like—each embellished with a delicate work of calligraphy, one of many endless extravagant variations of the letter A—also lined the walls. In the aftermath of finals, the day concluded another study season for the five grades she taught simultaneously.

It was also, thank God, the day she was supposed to leave the mansion. The bond indentured her to Asmodeus had been binding, but she’d finally come to the end of her time here. She’d fulfilled her contract and accomplished her mission as well. She had much to share with Abaddon, but Mary Catherine Waite was about to discover Asmodeus’ foul deeds went far beyond the insidious death gates.

While she said farewell, she prepared them for Adaddon’s coming as clearly as she could, As it always is with teachers, we come to the end of another year, knowing our students will grow far beyond the memories we cherish. I hope for a productive life for you all. She glanced over at Blakey, the teen with a gnat’s attention span and a sense of mischief that tended to manifest whenever he got bored, which was always. He squirmed, and she smiled benevolently. "If not productive, I will at least wish you happiness.

One thing more, I want you to keep our disaster drills fresh in your minds. If fighting comes to this place, stay low and move to the nearest exit. Once outside, get away from the house and into the forest. Someone will come to take care of you. Don’t worry about your family or your friends. Just get out and get to the forest. Trust me on this.

She’d hugged each one individually, giving them words of love and encouragement. Little Margot hadn’t wanted to let go. She had knelt, holding onto the youngest member while the rest of her class shuffled their feet. When she finally stood back up, she took the hand of the quietly snuffling girl and said, I have a surprise for you all.

Sweets were not typical in that place, but she’d managed to beg the ingredients and borrow the kitchen late last night. She’d cooked a simple yellow cake and smeared it with a liberal amount of chocolate frosting. She’d hidden her cake in a supplies cabinet, along with a couple of gallons of milk. To the delight of all, she pulled everything out now, and they had a party.

Afterward, she’d gone to see Asmodeus and get her walking papers. She didn’t like the archangel. His features were forever shrouded in shadows. A telling reflection of his essence, she thought. He’d always been cold to her. He had no idea of her Nephilim powers; she was just another human to him. Containing her light was so much habit by now that she didn’t even have to think about it.

She could see her contract on his desk. She wanted to get it and get the heck out of there, but she contained herself. Asmodeus looked her over, formally thanked her for her service, then picked up the contract and tore it in half—which was strange but just as final.

A portal opened between her and the fallen archangel. She figured that was her exit, but a sense of alarm, like a distant siren, stirred every instinct. Stange ultraviolet lights played about the edges of the ethereal doorway. Mary Catherine recognized it as a death gate even as Asmodeus told her, I know you’ve been curious about my gates. Alarm bells clanged in earnest now, but it was already too late.

Asmodeus’ right hand stretched out, made a pulling motion, and MC found herself irresistibly drawn toward, then through the strange portal—and into a vast underground cavern. Two devils grabbed and drug her into a nightmare scene. Foul, misbegotten demons were brutalizing thousands or tens of thousands of people. Asmodeus had sent her to Hell!

The why of it would have to wait. MC planted her feet, then kicked her legs over her head, somersaulting to free herself. The Nephilim warrior took two steps back and, from both palms, unleashed spear-like blasts of God-light that decapitated the demon spawn. Good riddance, she thought, as she ducked behind a rock and surveyed the room.

Her little rebellion had gone unnoticed. The devils around her were too intently focused, their claws delicately shearing ribbons of skin from the damned, one strip at a time. After each raw surgery, the devils lapped welling blood from their victim’s exposed muscles and nerves. MC fought her last meal back down and refocused on a nearby face that had felt familiar when her glance passed over it.

Bloodlessly white and aged, strained into a rictus of its former self—still she knew that face. It was Janet, one of the chambermaids. Three years ago, Janet had finished her tenure and been discharged. Then she saw more familiar faces. Everyone who’d worked at the castle must be down here. Merciful God, that foul devil Asmodeus had created a Hell where he could punish the innocent instead of the guilty!

She thought hard. The number of devils was overwhelming. She couldn’t take them all on. Even if she could, someone had to stop Asmodeus, which was beyond her power. She had to get out, find Abaddon, and tell him what was happening. Mary Catherine knew precisely how to get ahold of her lover too. As always, he’d be keeping an eye on their son.

A grim determination settled over her at the thought of seeing Harmon again. She knew Asmodeus had spread a number of his death gates throughout Hell’s sprawling confines. She’d have to find one, activate it, and get back to Austin double-quick. There must be a pattern to their placement.

An explosion of pain that carried the finality of failure chortled she’d been an unvigilant fool. MC struggled against the sudden darkness, but it promptly overwhelmed all purpose and regret. Her last conscious thought swore little Margot was crying somewhere nearby.

***

Mary Catherine awoke chained to a rock. Asmodeus’ face, laden with shadowed menace, leered over her. She could hear a child’s wails still bouncing off a distant cavern wall. It wasn’t Margot, but the cries tore her heart. She snarled at Asmodeus and spat in his face. The fallen angel smiled, wiped off her saliva, and spread it lovingly across her breasts. Shocked, Mary Catherine realized she was naked—spread-eagled, chained, entirely at this failed archangel’s mercy.

There was not an ounce, no single shred of compassion in the fallen’s black heart—and she came close to despair. When Asmodeus leaned close and spoke, it was like the soft whisper of a pile of bones falling together into dust. Mary Catherine Waite, you are supposed to be dead. The hazed golden light reflecting from his hooded eyes bored into and held hers like a holocaust vision. She felt a sharp pain that quickly became excruciating, but she refused to look away from the pitiless soul of that celestial failure.

The knife Asmodeus was holding continued to slide very deliberately between her ribs. Memories of Harmon, Abaddon, and the friends she had made throughout a Nephilim’s long life flashed through her thoughts, followed by a single harsh regret—her students wouldn’t be able to count on her after all.

She felt the breath rattle out of her chest one last time. Then she didn’t feel anything at all.

Chapter two

Chapter Two: Noble Sentiments

Smoke, Eirian, and I were in the breakfast nook fronted the way oversized kitchen, sharing our adventures on Beresus with Noble’s butler and right-hand man, Edmund Roberts, while he prepared an impromptu dinner. Eirian displayed a hitherto unsuspected knack for comedy as she described Noble’s not-so-subtle one-upmanship during our aborted feast at the king’s table. The doorbell chimed, and I said I’d get it, but Roberts claimed the job and returned with Molly in tow.

During our hug, Molly inhaled and told me I smelled like another woman. My friends chuckled, and I felt my face flush, but the loss was too fresh to ignore, even for Molly. Sobering, I said, It’s a tale worth sharing, but can I take you to see Noble first?

Molly got that cop look on her face. Yeah, Harmon. Please.

I escorted Molly from the kitchen to the master bedroom at the far end of an extended hallway. We were only a few feet from Noble’s body when Molly did an about-face and leaned into my chest. Oh, Harmon, I am so sorry. I selfishly wrapped my arms around her warmth, and a sob escaped. Chagrined, I tried to buck up, but Molly’s sympathy for me was evident as she said soothingly, I can’t imagine finding one father only to lose the other.

I admitted, "My heart is all twisted up, and that doesn’t feel fair to Noble. He is reunited with his daughter in Heaven, so I should be happy for him, not shedding tears