Burning: The Seraphim Saga, #1

By Christine Ather

Eighteen-year-old Charlie Blackwell lives with her adoptive single mom in Brooklyn Heights, New York. When she is not attending high school, she works part time as a barista in her mom's trendy coffeehouse and bakery, The Black Bean. Charlie's life is good, but it's not without struggle. It's been ten years since she was adopted and she's still dealing with the psychological trauma that living at St John's orphanage caused her. On top of that, she has been keeping a secret from everyone...as much as Charlie tries to live a normal life; she was born with a psychic ability that she can't control.
After a demon threatens her life, Charlie is rescued by a mysterious stranger, who promises protection and gives her the opportunity to train with him, so that she can learn to harness the gift that she has tried to suppress. 
Handsome and brooding, Alex Whitmore rides in on a black Harley and captures Charlie's attention. After an awkward exchange, she is mortified when he walks into the Black Bean as a new employee and she is forced to work alongside her new crush. Tensions build as they struggle to deny their attraction, but her hopes for romance are put on hold when she receives dark visions of Alex's death, and fears  getting close to him might cost Alex his life. 

Thrills, Chills, Mystery, High school drama, Angels, Demons, Slow Burn Romance and Witty Banter. This coming of age paranormal romance will leave you BURNING for more.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evercardia Inc.
• Release date: Feb 15, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224179008

Book preview

Burning: The Seraphim Saga

Copyright © 2024 Christine Ather

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed Attention: Permissions Coordinator, at the address below. Thank you for your support of the author's rights.

ISBN: (Paperback)

ISBN: (Hardcover)

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters. places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is coincidental.

Cover design by Getcovers.com

Published by Evercardia Inc. in Canada

Evercardia Inc.

Box 36

Vulcan, Alberta

T0L 2B0

Canada

www.christineather.com

Author’s Note

DEAR READER,

Thank you for picking up my book! It means a lot to me. I just wanted to give you a heads up before you venture in. This book mentions and contains scenes of child endangerment, abuse, and death. As well as sexual assault, the selling of narcotics, alcohol consumption, minimal course language, violence, homelessness, and bullying. Discretion is advised. If you decide to delve into the pages of this book, I commend you. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Thank you.

To love is to burn.

To be on fire.

-Jane Austen

Chapter 1

Central Park, Manhattan NY

October 21st, 2004

Dusk descended like a theater curtain as a young woman ran through the park, out of breath and trembling with fear. She held her protruding belly as though it caused her discomfort and took to the lower terrace leading to the park’s mall.

While maneuvering around a corner, she gathered up the courage to steal a glance behind her and came dangerously close to colliding with a cyclist going the other way. With a frightened gasp, she dodged the bike at the sound of his bell, ignoring the cyclist’s annoyed warnings to watch where she was going.

A dark, menacing shadow trailed behind her, stalking her like prey. Bellowing moans loomed in the air like an echo, taunting her onward. She glanced around and hurried past people walking their dogs and engaged in conversation, oblivious to what pursued her. She envied their ignorance. Only she could see the shadow, and feel the cold, creeping panic that crawled up and down her spine.

Someone had summoned the demonic entity to capture her, alive and unharmed, but he was having too much fun playing cat and mouse. The chase was half the fun. Soon, she would tire of exhaustion and surrender herself. He licked his lips ravenously in anticipation as a black tar-like secretion oozed from his mouth.

She headed toward the Bethesda arcade, hoping to catch a cab, but when she reached the top of the stairs that led up to Terrace Drive, she stopped mid-step to see a shadowy figure ascend from the ground, blocking her way to the street. In order to avoid being seen by the shadow, she turned and sprinted away, but her haste caused her to trip on the final stair and fall to the ground on her hands and knees. Despite the stinging pain that came from hitting the pavement, she pushed herself to keep moving.

Scrambling to get up, she headed through the Minton tiles and continued toward the Bethesda Fountain. Measuring twenty-six feet high by ninety-six feet wide, it was one of the largest fountains in New York. A notable element was an eight-foot bronze angel overlooking four small cherubims, each representing health, purity, temperance, and peace. The sight of the angel gave her hope.

The woman dropped to her knees before the fountain, yearning for a chance to catch her breath. Her chest hurt from breathing in the chilly October air, her lips dry and chapped from exertion. She looked up at the angel statue, tears running down her cold, rose-colored cheeks.

Thomas, please help me. The young woman pleaded. She spoke in a French accent. Her prayer carried a longing for someone in the celestial realm to hear it. Driven by desperation and a parched throat, she hesitated, but ultimately succumbed to drinking the water despite its cleanliness. She scooped up water in her hands, forming a makeshift cup, and quenched her thirst with a long sip.

A thunderous growl grew louder behind her, startling the young woman and causing her to expel water from her mouth and cough on a small amount that got caught in her throat. Gasping for breath, she brushed her long, dark hair away from her face. Exhausted and dripping with sweat, she had to keep running. She was determined not to let the demon take her.

A young man, sitting in a white carriage with red leather seats drawn by two brown horses, looked up from his newspaper and caught sight of the woman running towards him. When she drew nearer and stopped to lean against a park bench to catch her breath, he stood up and waved to get her attention.

Hey, miss! You look as though you could use a rest. May I take you through the mall? She glanced around before looking up at him.

Please... I lost my purse and don’t have any money.. She approached his carriage with caution. When she got closer, she noticed he had a kind, handsome face and piercing blue eyes. He gave her a friendly smile.

Today is your lucky day, my friend. You can enjoy this carriage ride free of charge.

He stepped down from the driver’s seat and extended his hand to her like a gentleman. Desperate for a break and feeling drained, she exhaled before clasping his hand. He gripped it gently and helped her into the carriage. Taking his seat up front, he clicked his tongue, coaxing the horses into action. The young woman glanced around in her seat, vigilant of her surroundings, yet the Shadow was nowhere to be seen. As night fell over the mall, the park became quiet, and lights illuminated the path as they traveled through.

My name is Tyler. What’s your name?

Despite her desire to relax, she was afraid to let her guard down. Instead, she sat restlessly in her seat, looking over her shoulder every few seconds.

I promise I won’t bite.

After a brief pause, she found her voice and spoke.

Seraphina. Comment vas-tu. (How do you do.)

He smiled at her response and made a note of her accent.

That’s a pretty name. What part of France are you from? He asked, attempting to make small talk.

Paris.

Her short answers gave him the impression she wouldn’t say anything beyond what he asked her.

Ah yes, the city of love. I’ve never been to Paris myself. I’ve only seen it in movies. What brings you here to New York?

School. Though part of me wishes I never came here.

There was a hint of sadness in her tone. He looked back at her with concern in his eyes and noticed her knees were bleeding through her leggings.

Are you alright? Did someone hurt you?

Her eyes met his, a mixture of uncertainty and caution clear in her expression before she diverted her attention to her knees, only to be met with the unsettling sight of blood. She hadn’t had time to check her injuries before.

I tripped and fell on the stairs. 

She adjusted herself in her blue knitted poncho, her arms wrapped around her body. Tyler noticed she was concealing something but did not ask what it was.

I am fine. You needn’t concern yourself.

She took a deep, shaky breath and let it out, wiping away tears that escaped despite her best efforts to contain her emotions.

I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry. But I can’t help but notice you’re upset about something.

When he turned to look at her, she couldn't help but bite her nails in a mix of anticipation and unease as she surveyed the area. Seeing her in distress, his heart went out to her with a sense of empathy and concern.

You mentioned you lost your purse. If there is anyone you would like to call, you’re welcome to use my phone. Your parents or the police, maybe?

She shook her head and muttered something in French.

Could you please drive a little faster? There is somewhere I need to go.

He nodded and shook the reins, urging the horses to walk faster.

They spent the rest of the carriage ride sitting in silence. After some time, they reached the horse-drawn carriage rental at the park's south entrance, where the sound of neighing horses filled the air. A wave of fear washed over her as she faced the daunting task of continuing on her own. Tired, hungry, and thirsty, she waited for the carriage to stop, then stood up to make her way down.

Wait. What kind of driver would I be if I didn’t help you down? You are getting the full-service treatment after all.

Tyler came around to offer his help as she stepped down from the carriage. Still holding his hand, she stared at the buttons on his shirt, avoiding his eyes.

Why are you being so nice to me?

I just thought you could use some kindness. Plus, it’s my job. He smiled kindly.

Just then, a wave of dizziness came over her. She closed her eyes and wobbled until her legs gave out underneath her. Tyler caught hold of her and eased her down on the ground as she slipped in and out of consciousness. She opened her eyes to see him gazing down at her with concern.

Saint Peter’s Cathedral.

Those last three words were all she could say before passing out.

Seraphina woke up in the back seat of a taxicab, her head resting on someone’s lap. She looked up to see Tyler staring out the window before he looked down to meet her gaze.   Are you all right? he asked, brushing a few stray locks of her chestnut brown hair away from her face. Embarrassed, she sat up.

What happened? Where are we going?

She cradled her head in her hands, still feeling a little dizzy.

You passed out in the park just after our carriage ride. You asked me to take you to Saint Peter’s Cathedral.

Her stomach growled in response.

Ah, so that explains why you fainted. How long has it been since you’ve eaten?

Her eyes shifted downwards to the scrapes on her hands. A while...

In response, he bent down to retrieve a brown paper bag resting at his feet and reached inside to pull out something wrapped in white paper.

I brought two sandwiches to work today just in case someone else was hungry.

Her gaze flickered between him and the sandwich.

It's just something I do sometimes, he said with a shrug. You can have it if you like. It’s roast beef and cheese. He held it out to her.

She took it without hesitation, ripping open the wrapping and sinking her teeth into the sandwich. She couldn’t wait to swallow before taking another big bite. He handed her a bottle of water, which she guzzled down, a stream of water escaping her lips and trickling down her chin.

Take it easy. You’re going to make yourself sick, Tyler said, touching her shoulder.   She stopped to wipe the water off her chin and looked at him, embarrassed at her lack of etiquette.

Pardonne-moi (Forgive me) I—

With a pang in her stomach, she squeezed the bottle, causing the water to spurt out from the top like an erupting volcano, before dropping it on the floor of the cab. She grabbed her belly and doubled over in pain.

What’s wrong? Tyler asked in alarm.

Although she spilled water  all over his lap, his concern remained focused on her. She lifted her poncho to reveal her protruding belly in response to his question. He raised his eyebrows as he looked down at her stomach.

Whoa... You’re pregnant.

She pulled the fabric back down.

Oui. You’re very astute. She said with mild sarcasm. He gave her a look.

I noticed you were trying to conceal something, but out of respect for your privacy, I didn’t want to pry. Besides, I learned never to ask if a woman is pregnant. There is always a fifty-fifty percent chance she isn’t, and then she gets offended, and you feel awkward, and suddenly you’re leaving the coffee shop with your chai latte still sitting on the counter.

The taxi driver, overhearing, stifles a laugh.

What. It happens. Tyler said in his defense.

Fair enough. I was not exactly forthcoming about my condition. Seraphina said. Then again, we have just met. With that, she groaned as another contraction began.

We should get you to a hospital. Tyler motioned to the driver.

No! she protested.

You’re in labor. You need a doctor. He tried to reason with her. She shook her head as she breathed through the pain.

Why is it crucial that I take you to the Cathedral? He inquired. Are you in some kind of trouble?

She looked at him with pleading eyes.

Oui. J’ai bien peur. (I’m pretty scared) The nuns can give me sanctuary. Please.

He took in the driver's reflection in the rearview mirror before resuming his focus on her.

Made of stone, granite, and limestone, Saint Peter's Cathedral was a Roman Gothic-style building with slender pillars adorned with crosses. It was ancient and well-kept. As they approached, the enormous bronze doors opened up, and a middle-aged man dressed like a priest stepped out to greet them, followed by a couple of nuns wearing modern-style habits. The man later introduced himself as Father Bernard Reynolds, and the nuns’ names were Sister Agnes and Sister Catherine.

The labor lasted for about three and a half hours before Seraphina’s baby came into the world. Tyler stuck around to hold her hand as she bore down after she begged him to stay with her. He wondered who or what had caused her to become so scared that she felt the need to hide herself in a church. When he carried her into the church after her water broke in the back seat of the cab, it didn't occur to him to inquire.

As the driver was spouting off profanities through the open window, Tyler threw him a fifty-dollar tip and told him to drive on. Who knew that offering a young woman a carriage ride through Central Park would lead to all of this?

Tyler stood around idle while the elderly nun named sister Agnes wrapped a blanket around the newborn and handed the baby to Seraphina, her dark hair damp with sweat. Evidently, sister Agnes practiced as a midwife before joining the sisterhood.

Congratulations. It’s a healthy baby girl.

Sister Agnes spoke with a deep, raspy voice, as though she had been a smoker in her younger years. The baby was beautiful, with a full head of dark brown hair and crystal blue eyes. She had a pout on her little lips and rosy cheeks. Once she was in her mother’s arms, the baby looked up and stared as Seraphina let her grab onto her forefinger.

Oh, mon Dieu (Oh my god). She is strong. Seraphina commented, looking up at sister Agnes.

At that moment, Tyler felt like a third wheel as he witnessed the silent exchange between mother and daughter. As if sensing his discomfort, sister Agnes placed a hand on his shoulder.

How about we give these two some time to bond? Come, I’ll make us some coffee.   Tyler nodded in agreement and followed her out. Before shutting the door behind them, he heard Seraphina’s voice call out to him.

Tyler?

He paused and turned around to look at her. She gave him a tired smile.

Merci. I couldn’t have done this without you. You saved us both.

Tyler returned her smile.

Just try to get some rest. You’re safe now. In the meantime, are you sure there isn’t anyone you would like me to call? A friend or relative?

Seraphina shook her head as she looked at her baby.

Thank you, but no one must know I am here.

What about the baby’s father?

As Seraphina looked up at him, her smile faded. She shook her head and didn’t say another word.

Let her be. She needs her rest. Sister Agnes commented.

Tyler was following sister Agnes down the hall to the kitchen when his phone rang. He pulled it out of the pocket of his jeans and flipped it open to answer. It was a number he didn’t recognize.

Hello?

Tyler? a female voice sounded from the other end.

Laura? Where are you calling from? What happened to your phone?

He paused in the hall and let sister Agnes go on ahead.

The battery died. I’m using a pay phone. Where are you? I’ve been worried.

Sorry, I meant to call you earlier. It’s been a rough night.

That’s ok. Is everything alright?

Uh.. yeah. Long story short, I met a pregnant woman in the park during my shift. We were sharing a cab when she went into labor.

Did she make it to the hospital, ok?

That’s the thing. I told her she needed to go to the hospital, but she refused, insisting that I take her to a church instead. I had to carry her in and stay with her until she had the baby. She’s resting now.

A church, huh? That’s odd. Which one?

I’m at Saint Peter’s on Amsterdam Ave. Listen, I’m going to head home soon. I’m exhausted. How about we meet up for breakfast tomorrow and— -click.

Tyler looked at his phone. Call ended. That’s weird. He thought. We must have gotten disconnected. Tyler made a mental note to call her back on her phone when he got home. He slipped his phone back into the front pocket of his jeans and headed down the hall.

Sister Agnes poured Tyler a cup of coffee and sat down across from him at the table.   Tell me, Tyler. What made you decide to help Miss Seraphina tonight?

He put down his coffee mug after carefully sipping the hot, black liquid.

She was all alone in the middle of Central Park, out of breath and scared like she had been running from someone or something. He took another sip.

Few people in this day and age would take the time to help someone in need. Sister Agnes commented. She lifted her mug to her lips and blew into it before taking a sip.

Well, I’m few people. He replied. She thought about that.

I hope that’s true. I bet you are wondering why a pregnant young woman wanted to come here instead of to a hospital.

He shrugged his shoulders.

She said she was in trouble and needed sanctuary.

She has been coming here for Sunday service since she arrived from Paris. Her parents were Catholic, God rest their souls.

She bowed her head and whispered a couple of words of prayer before continuing.

Seraphina arrived in New York for a school-sponsored foreign exchange program. The original plan was for a family to host her for a year, and then she would return home and continue her education in Paris. However, she met someone, fell in love, and got herself into trouble. Their love faced opposition, leading to his departure from New York before she even realized she was pregnant.

When I asked her if there was anyone I could call, she said she didn’t have any family here in New York. Why wouldn’t she want to contact her host family if she was in trouble?

Unless they were the people she was running from. He thought. Were they the ones that drove the baby’s father away?

I know that her relationship with her host mom was strained. Beyond that, I can’t say. We tried to convince her to use her return ticket and go home to Paris. We thought it best that she reunited with her family and friends back home, but she didn’t want to leave. Being pregnant out of wedlock, she was afraid her grandparents would disown her. She tried to get in touch with the baby’s father, with no success. Just when she had given up hope, he called her and asked her to meet him at Central Park.

Let me guess. He asked her to meet him and then never showed up?

He recalled how hungry and thirsty she was in the cab on the way over here. How long had it been since she had eaten anything? Hours or even days?

I don’t know what happened. I haven't had a chance to talk to Seraphina since she arrived, but I'll check in with her after she's had time to rest.

You said their love faced opposition. Did his family object to their union?

Sister Agnes took a sip of her coffee.

You could say that.

Are you serious?

His name was Thomas, and he was very special. He was never supposed to fall in love, let alone have... intimate relations with Seraphina. That was his downfall.

Tyler’s eyes widened as he considered something.

He wasn’t a priest, was he?

Sister Agnes shook her head.

Not a priest, but he was a servant of God. Now that Thomas is gone, she and her baby are in danger. Someone truly evil has been after her for some time now, which is why she has sought to come here for protection. You did right by bringing her here.

Tyler looked at her, confused.

I’m afraid you have left me with more questions than answers. Who is this evil person you speak of, and what does it have to do with Seraphina and her daughter?

Sister Agnes bent her head and brought her hands together as though she were praying.

Would you believe me if I told you it was the devil himself?

Tyler looked at her with skepticism.

You mean, metaphorically speaking, right?

She shook her head,  her expression void of any emotion. Tyler sat back in his chair. Why does it seem like I'm living in a Dan Brown novel?

Sister Agnes stared down at the liquid in her coffee cup.

You don’t have to believe me. I only ask one thing. You must promise me you will tell no one else about Seraphina and where she is. It is the only way they will be safe. Do I have your word?

Her expression turned stern as she looked at him.

And if I do?

He almost regretted his last question as she got up, took both cups and poured them into the sink.

God help you if you do. It is for your safety as well as theirs. She warned.

This seemed very important to sister Agnes and Seraphina. Tyler had no intention of doing anything that would compromise the safety of a young mother and her child after everything she had been through. But he couldn’t help thinking about his conversation with his fiance earlier.

I promise I won’t tell anyone else.

Sister Agnes breathed a sigh of relief.

Allow me to escort you out.

Thunder clapped, and lightning flashed through the arched windows of the infirmary as a heavy fog descended upon the building. A foreboding darkness permeated the room, seeping in through the cracks in the walls and slithered its way across the floor like a snake.

Despite the oppressive darkness in the room, which she assumed resulted from the storm, sister Catherine carried on with her duties, gently removing the baby girl from her sleeping mother's embrace and settling her in a crib nearby. A shiver ran down her spine as if the surrounding temperature had dropped a few degrees, and she wrapped her black cardigan more securely around herself. Echoes of taunting whispers seemed to bounce off the walls at her.

Who’s there? What do you want?

As she listened, their mocking voices grew louder and more piercing, until she had no choice but to press her hands against her ears.

Like a silent predator, the shadow approached her and wound itself around her leg. As soon as she felt something cold slither up her skirt, Sister Catherine's eyes grew wide with terror, and she looked down and saw over a dozen cockroaches crawling up and down her legs. She gasped with fright and opened her mouth to scream but no sound came out.  She brushed them off of her as quickly as she could muster, shuddering at the sight. Then they vanished as though she were waking from a nightmare, leaving her bewildered and questioning her sanity. She took a few deep breaths to settle her nerves and was about to leave the room in search of help when she heard a voice behind her.

He wants the child.

The voice rumbled from nowhere and everywhere at once.

What sorcery is this? Sister Catherine asked, spinning around in alarm. You can’t be here. Get out!

A shadow materialized before her very eyes and grabbed her by the throat before she could scream, cutting off her air supply.

Who are you to stop me? the shadow spoke again, this time more insistently.

Sister Catherine’s face turned purple as she gagged and struggled to remain conscious, her eyes rolling to the back of her head.

The baby stirred in her crib, sensing something was amiss. Despite her exhaustion, Seraphina's eyes snapped open, and she sat up just in time to see a terrifying, beast-like creature strangling sister Catherine, its menacing aura filling the room. It was the same beast that chased her through Central Park. But how did it find her?

Please, don’t kill her, Seraphina pleaded, out of concern for the nun.

If you think you can hide from him, you are a fool. He will always find you. Nothing will stop him from getting what he wants.

The shadows’ words hissed out like a snake.

"If you think I am letting him anywhere near me or my child, you are a fool."

Her voice quivered on the last word, giving herself away.

The beast shook with a deep bass laugh from his belly that seemed to mock her as he stood looming over the foot of the bed. With a tilt of his head, his dark eyes locked on her.

Am I?

Sister Catherine’s feet dangled beneath her, kicking helplessly as he lifted her off the floor.

I could snap her neck like a twig. Would you like to see that?

Seraphina shook her head.

Or perhaps I will possess her body and make her jump off the highest ledge of the building.

He stroked Sister Catherine’s face with his shadowy claw, leaving an inky trail across her cheek.

No! I beg you, please don’t! Seraphina protested.

The baby woke up crying to raised voices, which got the demon’s attention. Bored with her now, he let go of sister Catherine, her body dropping to the floor like a sack of wheat where she lay unconscious. Struggling to keep her balance, Seraphina fought her way towards the crib, her maternal instincts screaming for her to protect her precious child. But the demon yanked her aside, gripping her hair and causing her to yell out in pain. Directing his gaze toward the baby, wisps of shadowy essence flowed out of him, creating an unsettling mist surrounding the crib.

My master would very much like to meet you.

He bent over the crib and reached his clawed hands toward her. But something happened that no one expected.

The baby’s skin changed and became incandescent, with small orbs of colored light circulating through her tiny veins. The beast shrunk back in fear. Within moments, the light radiated and became like fire, and as she opened her eyes, her irises now violet, the blaze emanated through her and around her like the flame on a matchstick. With an explosive burst of energy, she threw the dark creature clear across the room while the force of the blast sent Seraphina crashing to the ground, causing her to lose consciousness.

With high-pitched wails, the demon shifted into a shadowy form, rushing toward the heating vent like a dense fog until it was gone in a matter of seconds. As the baby's radiant aura receded, her eyes returned to their normal blue color. Her piercing screams echoed through the building until the sound of hurried footsteps approached their room.

Seraphina was semi-conscious while Sister Agnes and Reverend Bernard huddled around sister Catherine’s body.

She is alive, but her pulse is weak. An ambulance is on its way. Sister Agnes said, turning to Reverend Bernard. How could a demon manifest itself inside St. Peter’s? This is a holy place.

The Reverend pulled a white cloth out of his pocket to clean the smudges off his glasses.

High-level demons are notorious for crossing barriers and leaving a trail of sulfur and brimstone in their path. I’m afraid the mother and child are no longer safe here.

Reverend Bernard spoke in hushed tones.

He knows where they are now. We must move them to a safer location.

Seraphina sat up, wincing as she cradled her throbbing head in her hand.

Seraphina, are you all right? Sister Agnes asked with concern.

Ignoring the nun’s question, she looked around and, to her horror, saw that her baby’s crib was empty. She got up off the floor, struggling to stand, and stumbled toward the crib, pulling back the blanket that had once covered her newborn daughter.

Ou est-elle? (Where is she?) Where is my baby?

Without waiting for a response, Seraphina hastily emerged into the hall, her eyes darting around in a frantic search of every room.

Wait! Come back! They called after her.

Chapter 2

W here to, Mister? The cab driver spoke with a strong Brooklyn accent.

West 10th Street, Greenwich Village, Tyler replied as he fastened his seat belt.

The driver gave him a nod.

You got it.

After they had been driving for about ten minutes, Tyler’s phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket to see his fiance’s name on the screen before flipping it open.

Hey Laura, I see you charged your phone. You must be home now.

Actually, I’ve been sitting here waiting at the restaurant for over an hour. We had a date tonight, remember?

It took him a moment, but then he remembered and hit his forehead in frustration for forgetting their plans.

Ah man, I am so sorry. You wouldn’t believe the night I’ve had, I completely forgot.

He heard her sigh.

Wait, I thought I told you about what happened when you called me earlier?

What? I didn’t call you earlier.

What do you mean you didn’t call me? I got a call from a different number, but it was your voice. You said you were calling from a pay phone because your phone died.

Tyler, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I was at home getting ready, and then I came to the restaurant to meet you as planned, but you didn’t show up. I finally had to give up our table to a party of four and go sit at the bar.

Tyler sat back in his seat, feeling confused, while the cab driver slowed to a stop at a red light.

Is this a joke? He asked hesitantly.

Well, if it is, then I guess the joke’s on me because I have been sitting here waiting, and I feel like an idiot.

She sighed again.

Is everything okay? She asked in a worried tone.  Where are you?

Her last words made him think of the last conversation they had or didn’t have, and suddenly, his blood ran cold, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

Laura, remember when I took you skiing in Aspen last Christmas? We were on the chairlift, and the sun was setting. I asked you a very important question. Do you remember what you said to me?

After a brief pause, she replied.

How could I forget? It was the night you asked me to marry you. It was the last run of the day, and the chair lift stopped halfway up the hill. You had this snowball in your hands and you were molding it into a heart. I was afraid we were going to be stuck up there all alone in the dark. You turned to me and said you wanted to stop here for a moment to enjoy the view and that I was the most beautiful woman you had ever laid eyes on, and although you couldn’t stop time so that the moment could last forever, you sure as hell could stop the chair lift for a minute and ask me to marry you.

So what do you say? Will you ski off into the sunset with me for the rest of our lives? He finished for her.

The ring was inside the snowball heart you gave me, and I said I would go anywhere with you. As long as you get me down off this damn chair lift.

They both laughed, and he knew without a doubt that he was talking to his fiance.

Listen, I am sorry that I kept you waiting, but there is something that I have to do. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Let’s meet at our favorite breakfast place tomorrow morning, and I will explain everything that happened tonight and remind you why you agreed to marry me.

Well, all right. She replied. As if I need reminding.

She ended the call.

After a moment, he dialed zero and waited for the operator to answer.

Hello. You’ve reached the operator. How may I direct your call?

It was a female voice.

Yes, Hi. I need you to trace a phone number for me.

He waited on hold for the operator to input the information he gave her into their system.

I’m sorry, sir, but the number you are looking for is unavailable.

What do you mean, it is unavailable?

It doesn’t exist.

How can someone call me from a number that doesn’t exist?

They can’t, sir. It’s impossible. Are you sure you gave me the right number?

Yes. Please check it again.

After a long silence, the operator returned.

I’m sorry, sir. I’ve run the number three times. There is no listing for 917-666-3845.

He scrolled through his call list again for the number. Either Tyler’s tired eyes were playing tricks on him, or the number was fading off the screen.

What in the hell...? He muttered to himself.

I’m sorry, sir. Is there anything else I can help you with tonight?

He almost forgot he was still on the line with the operator. Too stunned to talk, he simply folded his phone closed to end the call and sat there. After a moment, he flipped it open again and started dialing. 9-1-7...6-6-6...3-8-4-5. If they can call me, maybe I can call them. He thought.

It was ringing. He shook with anticipation. After the fourth ring, someone picked up. At first, all Tyler could hear was dead air, then suddenly a high-pitched, ear-splitting scream that was so loud that he yelled out in pain, dropped the phone in his lap, and covered his ears. It was the most horrible scream he had ever heard. It echoed inside the taxi and made the driver swerve before he almost hit an oncoming car.

What the hell is that? Turn it off!! the driver yelled at him over his shoulder.

Tyler quickly grabbed his phone and flipped it closed; the smooth plastic felt like a red-hot coal fresh out of the fire.

Ahh!! He yelled out in pain as it seared his skin.

Smoke started rising from the upholstery while the phone rested on the seat. He quickly rolled down the window, grabbed the device with the sleeve of his leather jacket, and chucked it out onto the pavement.

What is going on back there? The driver barked at him.

My phone, Tyler replied. It.... overheated.

Tyler sat back in his seat in a cold sweat, his palm stinging from his second-degree burn. His ears were ringing, and one of them felt wet. He touched it with his fingertips and brought his hand down to examine it.

Blood.

Whoever called him before was not Laura; now he knew that for certain. Panic struck him as he recalled what sister Agnes told him about Seraphina.

Who is he, and what does he want with Seraphina and her daughter?

Sister Agnes bowed her head and clasped her hands as if praying.

Would you believe me if I told you it was the devil himself?

Despite his skepticism before, he knew one thing for sure. Seraphina was in danger, and he may have led whoever she was afraid of right to her.

Turn the car around. I need to go back to the church.

It was pouring rain when Seraphina pushed the double doors open and stepped out onto the wet pavement in her bare feet, desperate to find her newborn baby. She was out of her mind with worry and feared that the demon had somehow taken her while she was unconscious. Panic and desperation consumed her as she searched the church grounds.

She was a new mother for what seemed like a fleeting moment, and she didn’t even get the chance to give her daughter a name.

What would I have called her?

She thought of her own mother, who died of a brain aneurysm when Seraphina was just ten years old, and remembered the devastation she felt when her grandmother told her that her parents had been in a car accident. Her father died on the scene, while her mother died a few days later in the hospital because of complications. Charlotte. It had been her mother’s name.

Charlotte... Seraphina’s voice was just above a whisper. Then she took in a deep, quivering breath and shouted her baby’s name at the top of her lungs.

CHARLOTTE!!!

The rain drenched the nightgown provided by the nuns, leaving her shivering from the cold. Seraphina looked up and saw a taxi cab pull up across the street and someone getting out. It was Tyler.

He came back. She thought.

She walked toward him, unaware of the stream of blood running down her leg. She just had a baby and was running around looking for her daughter when she was supposed to be resting, but she couldn’t stop now.

He waved at her and waited for several cars to pass before he could cross the street. Then she heard it. A low rumble of thunder emanated from a short distance away. A sound she was all too familiar with, and it had nothing to do with the weather. She stood on the sidewalk and looked down the street at people walking back and forth, some with umbrellas, while others wore hoods or shielded their heads with a newspaper. They all faded into the background while Seraphina focused on the large shadowy figure taking shape and charging toward her like an angry bull.

Tyler watched with concern as Seraphina called out for help. He scanned the area for suspicious individuals but found no one who appeared threatening. Suddenly, she ran out onto the street toward him, screaming and crying.

Wait! The traffic!

Just as he feared, she came to a stop in the middle of the street and shielded herself with raised arms from the approaching danger. When Tyler looked over, however, it was not a car coming down the street but a dark, beast-like creature with shadowy tendrils coming right for her. For a moment, it was as if time was moving in slow motion, and she looked at him with tears in her eyes. She said something to him that was barely audible before time resumed its normal speed, and the beast snatched her away and carried her off, disappearing into the night.

Nooooo!!! He yelled. Oh, my god. No. No! What the hell just happened?

Tyler stood in the middle of the street, paralyzed with shock, his heart beating like a drum. He looked up at the church, his mind full of questions. Why was Seraphina out here all alone? What was that horrible thing that took her? Was this my fault? Tears of remorse and shame ran down his face as her last words echoed in his mind.

Please... find my daughter. Find Charlotte.

Struggling to process what had just happened, a loud honking noise startled him, reminding him he was still standing in the middle of the street in the pouring rain. He spun around, blinded by the bright headlights of a large semi-truck. The impact of the vehicle hitting him head-on propelled his body into the air, where it eventually landed on the windshield of a car coming from the opposite direction, causing the glass to shatter. The car screeched to a halt, and witnesses gathered around, a few people yelling, Someone call an ambulance!

While others were screaming and gasping at the sight. As Tyler’s body lay broken and bleeding, his entire life flashed before his eyes.

Taking his first steps, hitting a home run during a little league basement game, watching the Fourth of July fireworks with his family, kissing his crush at a school dance...

Suddenly, his body no longer felt cold, and a sense of peace washed over him. The last image he saw was Laura’s smiling face, her blonde hair blowing in the wind.

Laura... He muttered her name with his final breath before he closed his eyes for the last time.

Chapter 3

Brooklyn Heights, New York

September 12th, 2022

Can I get a cup of coffee, please?

Charlie Blackwell looked up from where she was leaning against the counter. A stout elderly man with blue eyes and a kind face, who kind of reminded her of the late Mickey Rooney, stood on the other side of the counter. She had been busy sketching an elderly couple who was sitting at a table by the window sharing a slice of pie, lost in her own little world. Charlie didn’t even notice him approaching the counter. She smiled at him apologetically, closing her sketchbook before tucking it away inside the messenger bag she kept in a cubby behind the counter.

Absolutely, sir. Would you like anything else with that? We’ve got some freshly baked biscotti cookies, or how about a slice of apple pie a la mode?

He looked at the biscotti cookies under the round glass cover of the display case, and his eyes lit up.

Perhaps I’ll have one of those biscottis. I like to dip.

She smiled and nodded at his choice while pouring him a cup of coffee and lifting the lid to select a cookie with a pair of metal tongs.

Let me know if there is anything else I can get for you.

Her Aunt Laura owned the coffee shop where Charlie worked as a part-time barista. It was a trendy place with an emphasis on comfort, with leather wingback chairs and crushed velvet sofas of various colors and sizes throughout the room, accompanied by small wooden tables. The walls were a brown brick, with floor-to-ceiling windows to let in more sunlight.   They adorned each table with fresh flowers from the flower shop next door, and the decor had a shabby chic style with elegant handwritten messages on distressed wood and a blackboard wall showcasing the menu in colored chalk. Calming indie music played softly in the background.

In the evenings, they had a staging area set up where local musicians could come and entertain. People from all around Manhattan came for the coffee and the atmosphere. Not to mention, Aunt Laura’s homemade baking was some of the best anywhere.

Laura got her bachelor’s degree at the Culinary Institute of America in Hyde Park and then earned an internship at a patisserie called Délicieux in Paris, France, where she learned how to make the most delectable French macaroons before coming home and opening up a coffeehouse and bakery in Brooklyn Heights.

While Charlie busied herself wiping down a few vacant tables to make them available for new customers, her aunt Laura came in and greeted a few regulars sitting down on a couch before coming over to her.

Hi, honey. Sorry I took so long. The lineup at the bank was insane.

That’s ok. It just started picking up again. Emily called in sick, so I’m on my own.

"Oh no, really? Did she