Transcendent (Descendant Series Book 3) Read online

  Transcendent

  Copyright © 2016 by LJ Amodeo

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This Book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author.

  Cover designed by: Consuelo Parra

  Model: Mjranum

  Stock: Deviantart

  Wrap and back cover design: Pretty AF Designs

  Technical Editor: Penelope Bartotto

  Copy Editor: Patrick Hodges

  Interior Design and Formatting: Type A Formatting

  Table of Contents

  Transcendent

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  In loving memory of Gloria Paradiso,

  a beautiful soul with a pure heart.

  I will forever cherish the moments we’ve spent together,

  laughing over tea and cookies . . .

  To my son Joseph (aka: Joefish), who has helped me build up some fascinating characters and epic battle scenes. Glad your creativity on the imaginary battlefield came in handy!

  To Penelope Bartotto, you are one of the most creative, artistic and imaginative minds I’ve come to know. Not only are you my senior editor, consultant, and contributor, but you have become my mentor and friend. Thank you for your support and encouragement, guiding me through my endeavors to continue on this journey. You are by far the best in the business!

  To my husband Damian, and daughters Victoria and Jules. Thank you for always allowing me the space to drift away into my own little world to write . . .

  To those who have always supported the Descendant Series Books, I adore you.

  Suddenly a great rumble shuddered through the earth. Visions flooded her memory: a great battle and her angel––wounded.

  A gravestone bearing my name lay broken. Luca hoisting the tiny body of my son over a fiery pit. An army of darkness marching forward in perfect rhythm. The beast breaking free of his chains, as the heavens sealed its doors, leaving humanity to its own grim fate.

  “No!” I scream out, lifting myself from the cold altar. “What have I done?”

  The apocalypse arrived upon the heels of his birth. The transcendent child, prophesied in ancient texts forgotten by most, but revered by those who knew what it truly meant. All boundaries were breaking, portals shifting, as angels and hellions both fought for supreme domination.

  The Twelve Legions gathered its soldiers and marched off to war, prepared to meet the Abigarian and Hellion armies unleashed by the beast himself, Dante.

  The battles wage on as the descendant lays broken and bleeding at the center of the feud. Her heart beats slowly, echoing briefly in the dimly lit chamber. Moments before, Armisael and Metatron had presided over the birth and protection of both Elizabeth Anne Morgan, and the transcendent child being brought into the realms. Now only silence surrounded the young girl. An emptiness engulfed her, the reality of being completely alone paralyzed her, while thoughts haunted her every waking hour.

  Was it over? Had the battle been won, and by whom? Where had everyone gone? Most importantly where were Michael and her child?

  The tempo of my heart quickened, as panic descended and uncertainty slashed at my soul. I realized I was not alone. Tired and bruised, I stumble to a barred, grimy window, staring out at faceless bodies roaming aimlessly. It was difficult to believe where destiny had taken me. I’d give up everything to go back to the way life was before my eighteenth birthday; to return home in Caneadea with my parents, my dog, and Freddie. Instead, here I was, surrounded by thousands of spirits, wandering around the building in which I am imprisoned. These forgotten souls crying out for something. I’m just not sure what.

  I have come to the realm that has called to me since I was young. The Realm of Souls. Here is where I linger; somewhere between heaven and hell.

  THE TABLET OF UNION

  The stabbing pain in my abdomen jolted me awake for what seemed like the thousandth time. Panicked, I looked around the dungeon-like room hoping that someone else was with me. Anyone else. I couldn’t handle being alone any longer. Time had no meaning since Matthew had so unceremoniously dumped me here in his haste to exit the war zone.

  A cascade of dust and stone flakes fell into my mouth, causing me to cough persistently. I scrambled to a sitting position, exhausting myself in the process. “Help!” I squeaked out a pathetic holler. “Help!” I yelled as loud as I could this time, waiting for another’s voice to respond back. Only my own cracking voice echoed back. Nothing more. Not even the cacophony of sounds that had invaded my head as my son entered this world. I was truly alone, but determined to survive.

  I pulled every ounce of strength I could muster, propelling myself to the doorway. I needed to find my family; the family Matthew intentionally ripped me away from. Thinking of how he purposely left me in this cell to rot only intensified the anger erupting throughout my body. I swore if I ever saw Matthew again, I’d wrap my fingers so tightly around his neck, I’d snap it. I knew it wouldn’t be a very humane thing to do, but I doubt anyone would’ve questioned my actions.

  Tamping down my emotions, I slowly dragged the doors open and stumbled out into a topsy-turvy world. Everywhere around me resembled a war zone. Overturned chairs and torn books were strewn across the floor amidst the shattered stained glass, and broken window frames. The broken mosaics glistened on the floor. Gaping holes sundered the walls and ceilings of the mansion, while colossal columns and marble slabs lay broken, as if mere china dolls. The littered mess eerily represented my life. My mind could only scream obscenities at whomever had destroyed my world, my life–my family.

  My family! I managed to find the strength in my legs to search the house, frantically looking for the two things I loved. Michael and our son. “Michael!” I yelled sprinting up the stairs. “Michael!” I shouted from the second-floor balcony. Still no reply. The once magnificent Tablet was now a pile of rubble, with a chunk of its roof torn off in the grand entryway. I ran toward the front door, looking for anyone who could help me.

  Outside, everything was eerily still compared to moments earlier, when the wandering spirits occupied the barren grounds ou
tside the Tablet. It all seemed as if years had passed. Now, all lay destroyed and abandoned, including myself. The only sound was my heavy breathing and the beat-up wooden boards creaking beneath my feet. Thick vines of ivy crept up the walls of the building, strangling its exterior. Hesitantly, I stepped off the porch, but instantly, an unforeseen force screeched its disapproval and sent me hurtling back through the front door, crashing down hard onto the cracked marble floor. It took me a bit to regain my breath and strength to stand.

  A veil of gray dust blanketed the entire property. A wicked wind gathered force, whipping through the bare trees, snapping their trunks like twigs and madly tossing around debris, making it impossible to see clearly. My eyes stung from the sooty air blasting me in the face.

  I crawled back into the safety of the ruins and cried at the loss of something that meant the world to me. Cried at the loneliness and desperation I felt at this moment. Cried at the voices filling my head with vile thoughts, and cried because the words of that evil temptress, who stole my Freddie, came flooding back like the waves of a tsunami. Perhaps the raven-haired wench spoke the truth. The Trinity no longer needed me. I fulfilled a prophecy that all, immortal or not, believed could never be. The balance of the realms now swung toward the Light Realm, and I was certain the Shadow Realm would be infuriated with me. The birth of my son had been their dangling carrot, a prize to hang over the heads of the beastling.

  The idea that I may have been used and discarded like an old pair of sneakers burned furiously in my stomach. The realization that my child, my Elijah, would now become that dangling prize for the Trinity, just pissed me off!

  Determined, I brushed myself off and again, carefully exited the devastated Tablet. I would fight this unseen force and find my son no matter what, the Trinity and their prophecy be damned.

  I scanned the estate, looking in every direction for something, anything that would aid me in understanding what I could do to escape my prison. The view was an obliteration of the once majestic manse. One would swear a hurricane had blown through, decimating all in its path. Statues stood decapitated, fountains turned upside-down, and trees uprooted.

  I had no idea what had happened here, my memory, useless. Why had this sacred place, the Tablet, been destroyed, and what happened to the others? All I know is that from where I stood, it seemed like the apocalypse had finally made its entrance.

  THE HOUSE OF TRINITY

  “You imbecile! You left her at the Tablet to fend for herself? How dare you deliberately defy your orders!” Abigail shouted at Matthew, her hands flailing in the air like a madwoman. “This is not going to sit well with Michael! Oh, you better hide, brother. He’s gonna be furious! And we all know how it goes when things don’t go his way.”

  “What’s going on?” Freddie entered the room in the middle of Abigail’s tirade. An ominous hush fell over the assembled trio. The Twelve Legions were gathering to regroup, after the initial skirmish at the Tablet, before continuing to strategize the rest of the battle plans. The four hadn’t gotten an opportunity to discuss strategies since the start of the battle.

  Emmanuel walked over to Freddie, placing his hand on his shoulder. “We have a problem.”

  Freddie’s eyes darted to each member of the legion. “And that problem is?––” he replied, fully attentive.

  “We can’t locate Beth. We’re not sure where’s she’s gone.” Abigail stepped toward a shocked Freddie. Emmanuel and Matthew both narrowed their eyes at the impatient girl. At first, Freddie simply let out a small chuckle, looking at each of them suspiciously.

  “You’re kidding, right?” He shrugged, trying to get in on the act. “This is a joke?” Each angel shook their head, except for Abigail who stroked his arm in reassurance.

  “We’ll find her, Freddie. We all know how much she means to you. We’ll do our best.”

  “How did this even happen? Who screwed up? You?” He pounced on Abigail, who quickly shook her head no. “Then it had to be you.” He turned his attention to Matt, who stood arrogantly with his hands tucked inside his pockets. “Definitely you, you smug piece of . . .”

  Freddie lunged for Matthew, who reacted with a quick jab at Freddie’s chin. Freddie hooked his arm around Matthew’s neck and punched him several times in the face, popping a blood vessel in Matthew’s nose. Emmanuel and the fiery Abigail had to step in and pull them apart. Matthew nursed a bloody nose while Freddie sported a swollen lip.

  “Freddie, Matthew, cut it out, both of you!”

  “I swear on all the life left in me, if something happens to Elizabeth, I’m coming back for you, you little punk!” Freddie spat blood on the floor.

  “Great! I’ll be waiting right here, lover boy!” Matthew taunted back, pinching the bridge of his nose.

  “I mean it, Matt, if one hair on her head is out of place, your blood will be on my hands!”

  Emmanuel held his hands up. “Enough, you two! This is no way for angels to behave. It won’t do you any good standing here bickering about it. We must get a plan in place to find her before––”

  “Before what?” His eyes widened with sudden realization. “I can’t believe this. How do you lose someone as important as Beth? Did she just vanish into thin air?” Freddie hollered at each of his legion brethren. Not one of them dared to say a word.

  “She’s still in danger, isn’t she?” he asked, a tinge of anger lacing his voice. He grabbed his legion brother by the shoulders. “Luca can still carry out his plan if he knows she’s been left alone out there. You’re not even sure if the prophecy has been broken, right? Is that what you’re telling me, Manny? I want the truth, and spare me your ‘it was for the best’ bullshit!”

  Emmanuel was a serious legion warrior, never one for fun and games––he was strictly business. He stepped forward, soothing his younger brother’s concerns.

  “We believe the prophecy was broken, but there’s a greater peril: the child. He must never be found by the Shadow Realm. He is the key now. However, Elizabeth may still be in danger. We fear that if Luca discovers she’s been left behind, he will find her and may attempt to carry out his plan to father a nephilim simply as payback. Or worse, he will lure her into exposing the whereabouts of her child. However, since she has already conceived a transcendent, we will not know what the consequences are until––”

  Freddie remained silent, his jaw noticeably grinding, as he fisted his hands, staring at Emmanuel. “Until Luca finds her, and when he does, if the nephilim doesn’t kill her, he surely will.”

  Freddie snapped out of a fog and yelled, “Tell me where to look for her! Do Michael and Faith know about this? And what are they doing about it?”

  Again, the three angels could do nothing but stare at one another. Freddie nodded in disgust. “What now?”

  Abigail was the first to stammer, “F . . . Faith is––” she swallowed the lump in her throat. “Faith has ensouled.”

  Freddie stared in blank incomprehension. “Ensouled––meaning what? I don’t have time for a vocabulary quiz!”

  “Freddie, the birth made Elizabeth very weak, and she . . . she was dying. Faith––did what she thought was right. She sacrificed her soul, ensouling with Beth, so that she could live and be with her child.”

  “This is insane! You’re telling me Faith gave up her soul so that Beth could be with her baby, and then you morons left her somewhere?” His anger simmered to an almost nervous laughter. Abigail tried to place a hand on Freddie’s shoulder, but he pushed her away.

  “This wasn’t intentional,” she said. “Right, Matt? Matthew?”

  Lowering his eyes to the floor, the angel tried to hide his expression, but Abigail carefully watched him. Her temper flared as it dawned on her that he had indeed been responsible for leaving Beth behind. Straightening her posture and throwing back her shoulders in annoyance, she turned back to Freddie, planning to deal with Matthew later.

  “Freddie, we will find her, but we all know that here, in the Light Realm, time passes very
quickly. So, what seems like yesterday to us is, in fact, days or years in the other Realms. Please understand that if . . . rather, when, we find Elizabeth, she may not be the same girl you––” Abigail looked down at her hands, fumbling with her words, “––loved.”

  “Enough, Abs! Why are we all getting so worked up over that girl anyway?” Matthew replied. “How many times did we need to save her sorry ass from getting in trouble?”

  Freddie’s fists clenched and his nostrils flared at Matthew’s words. Without warning, Freddie lunged again, this time jabbing Matthew in the jaw, sending another spray of blood across the room. Before Matthew could regain his balance, Emmanuel and Abigail rushed to stand between the boys once more.

  “What the hell, Matt? Seriously?” Abigail chided. “She’s the mother of the most sacred transcendent, and you’re brushing this off like she’s a fly by night? It’s still our duty and responsibility to keep her safe! If there was one thing Michael asked you to do, it was to protect her!”

  Matthew rubbed his aching chin, licking away several drops of blood on his lip. “I must correct you, Abigail. Our mission has shifted to the transcendent. We are no longer bound to his mother.”

  Emmanuel held his hands up, calling a halt to the argument. “Standing here arguing about her is pointless. We’ve been instructed not to search for her, and until the council says otherwise, I am stepping away from your crisis, and whatever you all decide to do is your fate. But heed this warning: Beth is still vulnerable and fair game to the dark ones. We never expected her to change the course of history, but that doesn’t mean Luca can’t do with her what he will once he finds her. And if that happens, if a nephilim is born to Luca, then we can all kiss our sorry existence goodbye!”

  “By the way, you do realize it wasn’t only Beth’s doing, Manny. But I’m sure you already knew that! It took two to conceive the child. Anyway, is it even possible for her to still conceive?” Abigail’s eyes became wide with concern. “The birth was unusually traumatic.”