Return to Eden (25 page)

"Well, isn’t that the sweetest thing?" Lucifer’s voice cut through the air.

She turned to face the voice. Lucifer leaned up against a post on the other side of the dance floor. Despite the silver and ivory place settings, and the bright flower arrangements, dark shadows clung to him. Lucifer brought his own darkness.

"Leave, Lucifer. You have no place here," Gideon said.

"Don’t get your new human undies in a bunch, Mr. Newman," Lucifer said. "You are not why I’m here."

"Then why are you here?" Abigail asked.

"You, Abigail. I thought we had something." He swaggered forward. "You were mine first. You fell for me, remember?"

"Things change. Free will is a bitch, ain’t it?" Abigail stepped in front of Gideon, and squared her shoulders. She was defenseless accept for her will, but she refused to allow Lucifer to have the pleasure of seeing her afraid.

"You are my deepest regret. We could have accomplished so much together, you and I. It was a shame what you did. A bloody shame. I don’t deal well with loss." He shook his head.

"Maybe you can find a support group," Abigail said.

Lucifer’s eyes blazed. He stepped in closer. Too close. Gideon’s hands gripped her shoulders.

"Enough small talk, Abigail. I’m here to let you know that the damage you’ve done is significant but not impossible to overcome. When I do, you know what they say, payback is hell." His knuckle brushed against her jawline.

The baby hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention. "Don’t touch me. You can’t do anything to me." Each word was equal parts hope and prayer.

Lucifer tipped his head. "Maybe not today, but I’ll be back, Abigail. I always come back." He bared his teeth. "My congratulations to the happy couple. May you have many, many children. Funny thing about kids these days, they always seem to find their own way. Free will’s a bitch, ain't it?" He turned on his heel and twisted into shadow, leaving nothing but a faint smell of sulfur behind.

"Was that who I think it was?" Jacob asked from the doorway. Malini hugged tight to his side.

"Unfortunately, yes," Gideon replied.

Jacob pulled a breath spray from his pocket, crossed the dance floor to where Lucifer had been and spritzed spearmint into the air.

"There. Good as new." He turned back toward Abigail and Gideon. "Looks like the garbage took itself out. Let’s get this party started."

Abigail nodded, meeting his eyes. "Thanks, Jacob. Thanks for everything."

Jacob shook his head. "Do you remember the day we met? You scared the bejeezus out of me." He laughed.

"I remember."

"You changed me for the better. I'm so glad you finally got what you wanted."

The sound of Aunt Carolyn’s heady laugh brought them back to the present. There was a reception to be had, and Abigail was looking forward to cutting her cake, not to mention her first dance with her husband. She wasn’t going to give Lucifer the benefit of even one more minute of her life wasted in worry.

* * * * *

Three weeks later...

The gothic Victorian had never looked better. Abigail had paid a crew to paint it white with light gray trim. She’d redecorated the inside, too, and added a real door to the tower. The interior was now a shrine to neutral tones. Everything about the place screamed cheery rural hideaway. Everything but the stained glass window in her bedroom. She couldn’t bring herself to change it but realistically she knew the new owners would probably replace it.

They were turning it into a bed and breakfast.

"All packed up," Gideon said, loading the last trunk into her truck. "Ready to go?"

Abigail slid the SOLD sign into the wire frame in the yard.

"I am now."

"Hold it right there, Abigail Newman." John Laudner waved at her from across the street. Aunt Carolyn, Jacob, and Katrina exited the cheery yellow home behind him.

"We were going to stop over to say goodbye," Abigail answered.

"No need. We’ll come to you." John reached the driveway. "I just wanted to say, we’re going to miss you, Abigail. You’ve been a terrific neighbor."

"Thanks, John. I feel the same about you."

Carolyn stepped to her husband’s side. "I can’t believe this house is leaving your family after so many generations. I hope that university you're moving to understands how they’ve changed this town, luring you away."

"Oh, Carolyn, you’re too kind. I’m sure you and the other ladies will find some other topic to keep you busy."

Carolyn laughed. "Oh, hush. You know it was all in good fun."

Katrina stepped forward. "Thanks for everything, both of you." She shook Abigail’s hand but her eyes lingered on Gideon.

He returned a knowing nod.

Jacob stepped up last. "Dr. Silva, I mean Newman, working for you was one of the most important experiences of my life. You’ve meant a lot to me." He shot her a private grin.

Abigail smiled. "The feeling’s mutual, Jacob."

They stood for a moment taking each other in.

"Well, Abigail and I have a long drive ahead of us," Gideon said.

"We promise, we’ll keep in touch. I plan on visiting Paris often," Abigail added.

"Make sure you look us up," Carolyn chimed in. "You’re always welcome."

Abigail nodded and climbed into the passenger side of the truck. Gideon slid behind the wheel.

They backed out of her driveway and drove toward the setting sun. They didn’t stop until they reached the delivery entrance of Laudner’s Flowers and Gifts.

Lillian had already closed the shop for the night but she let them in the back door. Malini helped load all of their things into the boat in the cavern under the backroom. It took the better part of an hour to move the trunks down the winding staircase.

"Sink it in the lake," Abigail said, handing Lillian the keys to the truck.

"Will do. I’ll take the plates off first, just in case."

"Thanks, Lillian."

"I’ll see you in Eden."

Gideon nodded. "Classes start next week. I’ll make sure the weapons room is ready for you."

"Looking forward to it." Lillian tossed the keys into the air and caught them in the same hand. She gave a little wave goodbye and jogged up the stairs.

Unfolding a pair of sunglasses from her pocket, Malini slid them onto her face and reached for the rope.

"What are those for?" Gideon asked.

Malini shrugged. "Eh, nothing to worry about."

She hoisted the sail.

After a lifetime of magic and sorcery, Abigail didn’t think anything could surprise her, but the ball of fire that rolled through the cave had her clutching at Gideon. Gathered into his arms, she screamed as the boat propelled forward, passing through the far wall of the cavern before slowing on a pristine blue river.

"You could’ve warned us," Abigail said.

Malini smiled. "Sorry."

She did not sound sorry at all.

Abigail eyed the approaching cherubim, their crossed swords burning. "Are you sure about this, Malini? Are you sure we’ll be allowed in? The cherubim were set in place to keep humans and Watchers out. Only Soulkeepers can enter.”

"I’m sure. You might say you’ve become an honorary Soulkeeper. It’s all been arranged."

While she heard what Malini was saying, Abigail gripped Gideon’s hand tighter as they approached. She thought back on her life, on all of the choices she’d made, good or evil. If she had to weigh her own soul, she wasn’t sure which side of the scale would rise. She was sure Gideon’s soul would stand up to the test. He’d always been made for good. But if Abigail made it through to the other side, she knew it would be because of grace and mercy.

The moment they passed under the swords the air turned to rubber and the cells of her body felt sifted like sand through a sieve. The boat slowed. For a second, she couldn’t breathe. Her body was forced forward, stretching against some unseen force that pressed on her from all sides.

When she thought she could take no more, that she would suffocate for sure, the boat broke past the membrane and floated forward on pristine waters. Colorful birds sang from the trees, calling out a song of joy. The lush jungle welcomed her to Eden.

Abigail tipped her head against Gideon’s shoulder, lacing her fingers into his. He kissed the top of her head. With her face tipped toward the sun, and the man she loved at her side, she came home to her new life.

About the Author

G.P Ching is the author of The Soulkeepers Series and a variety of short fiction. She specializes in cross-genre paranormal stories, loves old cemeteries, and enjoys a good ghost tour. She lives in central Illinois with her husband, two children, and one very demanding guinea pig. Learn more about G.P. at
http://www.gpching.com
and more about The Soulkeepers Series at
http://www.thesoulkeepersseries.com
.

Follow G.P. on:

Twitter

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Facebook (The Soulkeepers Series Fan Page)

Acknowledgements

Return to Eden was a difficult book to write. I've always related to Abigail and writing this story sometimes left me in tears. She irrevocably changes and saying goodbye is never easy. I couldn't have finished this book without the following people.

Special thanks to Karly Kirkpatrick, Magan Vernon, and Angela Carlie for your help, support, and friendship. You made Return to Eden possible. Thanks to Adam Bedore of Anjin design for the cover art and to all of the Indelible authors for your support. Thanks to Dani Crabtree for help editing the series. Finally, thank you to my family for tolerating my absence when it seemed I'd never come out of the editing cave.

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Excerpt: The Green

By Karly Kirkpatrick

Hot water cascaded over me. Burning. Cleansing. I hoped it would wash away the musty smell that seemed to cling to my hair and clothes. I wondered if people at school noticed it or if it was just me. I didn’t even want to think about what moldy nastiness lurked in our basement apartment’s walls. After lathering, rinsing, and repeating, I stepped out into the steamy bathroom and wiped the mirror down with a towel. The exhaust fan broke months ago and the landlord keeps claiming he’ll fix it ‘next week.’   

I swept my dark brown hair, almost black really, into a high ponytail. Everything about me was brown. Brown eyes. Brown skin. Smooth and silky, the color of rich mocha. Hair stick straight and long. If you saw me in a National Geographic magazine, I would be dressed like my Quechua relatives in Ecuador. Colorful skirts and a Panama hat. Hooked nose. Except if I lived in Ecuador with them, I’d live in a hut and hike up my skirts so I could pee in the streets. I was the upgraded version. Like them, but prettier and cleaner. And I used a toilet. Which is good because I’m guessing peeing in the streets would be frowned upon in most American towns.

I tied a red ribbon around my ponytail. Now I looked like the other cheerleaders. A bright shiny package that all the people at school could look at and admire. 

After a few quick strokes with a mascara brush and some powder, I popped into my room and grabbed my hot-pink backpack off the bed. I secured the door behind me with a giant padlock and walked to the front door.

“Hey, Ariceli, where you goin’? Can you get me a pop?” slurred my brother Nando from the couch. I cringed. 

“No, I’m gonna be late for school. Get it your damn self,” I snapped.

“School is for fuckin’ losers.” He chuckled.

My blood pressure rose, my face and neck heating up. His eyes were almost swollen shut from a night of partying.

“Because I suppose being wasted at six-thirty on a Tuesday morning makes you not a fucking loser? And neither does living on your mother’s couch when you’re twenty-one?  Which one is it Nando?”

“God, you’re such a bitch.” He slouched back on the couch and snickered at a cartoon on the TV. 

“Fuck you, Nando.” I slammed the door, climbing the steps out of the dungeon, I mean basement apartment, and headed to the bus stop. 

Mom had taken on two jobs just so we could move to this shitty apartment because it was in the right school district for me. Out of the five high schools in the district, Cambridge High was the best, and one of the top schools in the suburbs of Chicago. Way better than any school I could have gone to on the South Side of Chicago.

My fancy short yellow limousine pulled up right on time for the twenty-minute drive to school. It was nearly empty, being that I was one of only a few kids from crappy Slate Park that Delores, the bus driver, had to pick up. Most kids here went to Slate Park High, but when I saw that Cambridge had a journalism academy, I knew that’s where I had to go. All you needed to get in was an essay and great grades. It was a piece of cake for me.