In Hope Cemetery, in the quaint little town of Osceola, Wisconsin, a pentacle lays hidden under a slab of chipped and scarred concrete. It was created by the archangel Michael, and consecrated by the first coven, over two hundred years ago on the floor of what was once a church.

Cejay Daniels is going to use it to remove her protector and friends from Hell, then send the evil bastards who put them there to their lair and lock the gate for good. Getting them back is going to take her cousin Carmen’s new power. A strange one in the shape of a person with one-half light and the other half dark. The only problem is, Carmen’s afraid of her power. It’s going to take time, time they don’t have, for Carmen to learn to control her gift, or this fight will end before it begins.

Powers grow, friendships falter, ghosts pop in, and the demons use others as a conduit to gain control which makes Cejay feel like she’s being pulled in every direction without knowing which to take.

But Cejay Daniels is The One. Born with the blood of Lucifer and chosen before she was born by the Fates to end a curse began mistakenly by her ghostly friend, Aster, to save her dying infant son. She’ll end this fight alone and make a deal with the devil if she has to.

She is The One.

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Excerpt

Prelude

I make my way around the church that the archangel Michael brought us to, two hundred years in the past, checking every spot I can. It’s basic, small with removable pews. The altar is simple, the cross bare of Jesus, the podium basic. I know I’ve never been inside this church, so I head outside with my brother and friends behind me. The church faces the road, as do most churches I’ve paid attention to, most likely to welcome people into the congregation. The cemetery is in the back with a short picket fence surrounding it. Crude, simple, and downright depressing headstones are scattered around. Farther out is a large tree that even in the sunlight appears black, its center trunk with a deep black spot. I know I’ve never seen it before so why does this tree seem familiar? I scan the grounds again, a feeling of knowing falling over me. Sitting by itself is a rounded headstone leaning slightly to the side. I drop to my knees in front of it and read the name aloud. “Warren Hasking. We’re in Hope Cemetery!”

The world blinks, removing us from two hundred years in the past and straight into the present, onto the current grounds for Hope Cemetery, minus its church, with Warren’s headstone standing crookedly in front of me.

“If we were in Hope Cemetery, Cejay, where’s the church?” Dean Harris, my boyfriend, and my brother’s best friend since third grade, examines each corner.

I find the beginning, where the skinny path leads into this cemetery, and point to it. “That’s the original path from the road onto the cemetery grounds. And that,” I point again to a vacant slab of concrete. “That’s where the church was.”

“The church we were in was made of wood,” my cousin Carmen says, following me. “That slab is concrete.”

“Times change, and with it so does the structural component of most buildings,” my brother Gabe answers.

I stop mere inches from the base. A dirty, square-shaped piece of professionally laid concrete with cracks and missing edges shows how old it is. It always appeared odd to me to have something like this with nothing indicating what it once was. I find a spot where the earth has moved away from the side and squat. “Wood, there’s a wooden slab beneath the concrete. Lacey, I’m sure this is your part now.”

My best friend of Polynesian-black heritage, who is also my brother’s girlfriend and my boyfriend’s sister, steps onto the slab toeing its center. “It’s consecrated.”

I nod. “I had a feeling it was.”

Lacey moves slowly, drawing her long straight black hair into a ponytail while stopping where the uppermost tip would be. She closes her eyes and spreads her arms wide. The ground shakes, a glow lifts and the pentagram etches onto the slab beneath her without the circle.

Knowing fills me. I place one foot onto the slab, and the circle appears giving off a bright glow changing this into a pentacle. Excitement travels through me, making me want to fist-bump the air with a hearty rah. “Lacey is the tip, she represents Spirit.” I move and step on the circle to Lacey’s right, and the circle pulsates once. “This is where I stand, on the circle I can create, and Gabe, you’re directly across from me, also on the circle, because of the connection we share.”

He walks around the slab and steps onto the spot I indicated. The circle pulsates again. “When you’re right, you’re right, Cejay. Keep going.”

“Okay.” I rub my hands together, staring at each vacant tip. “Dean’s a healer with witch and angelic blood. Carmen has light and shadow.” I take a breath. “Carmen, you’re Air, the tip near Gabe, and Dean, you’re Water, near me.”

I nearly bounce in my shoes as I wait for them to take their positions. The circle flashes when they each take their spots. “Talon belongs on Earth and Torque on Fire. I’m sure of it.”

The archangel Michael with his riot of blonde curly hair and striking blue eyes, walks around the slab stretching his arms over his head. “My work here is done.” He pops out, and his fellow archangels Uriel and Raphael appear.

I feel it, the power below my feet. “Carmen, we’re bringing them home.” The wind picks up, blowing in our faces and whipping our hair; the walls of the pentacle lift and I feel the power as it travels below. “Get ready, boys.”

 

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