Forever Found

  Forever Found

  Terror, MN Series

  Book 2

  Larissa Emerald

  Forever Found

  Founded by angels, harassed by demons, the town of Terror, MN is hidden in the northern Minnesota countryside. Obey the rules and it’s a fun town. #1 rule: Do NOT eat thy neighbor.

  In the world of paranormal creatures, few things are ever final.

  Lyndsey Goeig has a psychic connection with her camera. The pictures she takes reveal the truth, and more than the human eye can see. When she’s drawn to Terror, MN, to visit her cousin, she finds more than a simple get-away…she encounters the man who rescued her from death when she was a child. Only now he’s an angel charged with protecting Terror from outsiders and demons.

  Humans have a way of disturbing the balance in the secretive and secluded paranormal town of Terror. Angel David has enough problems keeping the balance among the supernatural residents. To his mind, humans should visit someplace else, including the all-grown-up, intriguing female from his past. He isn’t happy when a beautiful Lyndsey snaps pictures, capturing him battling a demon. His concerns escalate when he discovers Lyndsey is part of the reason he died. Plus, the beast that tried to kill her before is determined to succeed time.

  Will David rescue her again and find the love between them that is meant to be? Fate may have brought them together, but if they want a chance at a future, they’re going to have to fight for it.

  FOREVER FOUND

  Terror, MN Series

  Novel

  Copyright © 2020

  Castle Oak Publishing LLC

  http://www.larissaemerald.com

  Larissa on Facebook

  Larissa on Twitter

  This novel is a work of fiction. References to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  All rights to reproduction of this work are reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without prior written permission from the copyright owner. Thank you for respecting the copyright. For permissions or information on foreign, audio, or other rights, contact the author at larissaemerald@gmail.com.

  Table of Contents

  FOREVER FOUND

  About the Book

  Copyright

  Terror, MN Map

  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

  Thanks for Reading

  Excerpt from PERFECTION

  Excerpt from AWAKENING FIRE

  Other Books by Larissa Emerald

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Boxes littered her living room. Like her life, they didn’t seem to have any order. She began labeling them with a permanent marker as she peeked inside to remember what she’d packed. Kitchen, bedroom, bath. She stacked them near the doorway.

  Her cell phone sounded the crystals ringtone, which meant it was her bestie, Jen. But where was the phone? Lyndsey dug around, following the sound as it led her to the bookshelf, where she spied the glow of the screen next to the pile of photo albums. She plucked the phone up, then answered, “Hey, girl. What’s up?”

  “Just keeping track of you. How’s it going?” Jen asked.

  Lyndsey Goeig drew in a silent, deep breath. “Good. Good. I’m almost finished packing. Then John, a friend from work, well, you know, work before I got laid off, will help me haul this stuff to storage.”

  “I’m glad you have someone to help. Have you decided where you’re going yet? The offer still stands to hang with me for a while until you figure out what’s next.”

  “I know. I appreciate the offer.” But Jen, as much as Lyndsey adored her friend, had her quirks. Just because they were best friends didn’t mean they’d make good roommates. Jen was a type-A personality with a side of anxiety disorder, and Lyndsey was a type-B with a touch of ADD. They would drive each other crazy. Besides, Jen lived in a busy part of town. Not for me.

  Lyndsey thumbed through some loose pictures, then added them to the group at her feet. Her heart squeezed as she dropped cross-legged to the floor, tugging another empty box closer. She placed the picture albums of her childhood in the container that would go into storage until she figured out where she was going. She was young, free, and had her entire life in front of her. Her choices were endless. These were the things she told herself in those moments of panic.

  In reality, she’d been laid off from her photography job at the newspaper, her apartment had been bought out by a big-wig industrial company, and today was move-out day. In one way, the timing couldn’t have been better. She could go wherever the wind took her—the lousy thing was…no wind.

  “Let me know if you want to brainstorm jobs, or if I can help,” Jen said.

  “I will. I’m just going to concentrate on freelance work for a while. Thanks for checking on me. Bye.” Lyndsey ran her finger over the end button, chewing her lower lip. She thrived on change, right? She always had. Lucky Lyndsey.

  She lifted another album, then leaned to drop it into the box. The cover fell open, revealing a snapshot of her and her cousin Justin during the Winter Carnival in St. Paul. They stood beside the enormous ice sculptures. She must have been around sixteen. Those were fun times.

  As she held the picture, a tingling raced from her hand up her arm and into her chest. It dissolved in an instant. But she understood the feeling had something to do with the picture. The imprint drew her. She wondered why. Justin lived north of St. Paul in Terror, Minnesota. She hadn’t seen him in years. They kept up on Facebook, but that was it.

  She stared at the photo as a strong pull, like the force of a magnet, tugged at her spirit, her very core. She saw real things in pictures. Sometimes, it was auras. Other times, just something other people didn’t see. Once or twice, the camera had done weird stuff like burning a hole in a bedspread. Those instances had blown her away. Unexplainably, she felt compelled to visit Justin. Life had taught her to listen to these mystical sensations.

  Placing the rest of the photo albums in the box, she sealed it, labeled it photos, and set it with the rest of her belongings.

  Call Justin. Find out what is driving this connection sensation.

  She hesitated. Finally, she found Justin in her contacts and dialed.

  When he answered, she felt a little awkward. “Hi, Justin. This is your cousin, Lyndsey.”

  “Lucky Lyndsey. How have you been?”

  She remembered now he was the one who had called her that. “Great. How about you?”

  After they exchanged pleasantries, she paused, building her courage. “I’m doing some traveling up your way, and I wondered if I could drop by for a little while. Do you have room for a guest?”

  “Sure. Of course. Come on.”

  “Awesome. I’ll be there on Tuesday. Thanks. I can’t wait to catch up.” Or to discover what was driving her to him after all these years. She ended the call, glancing at her photography paraphernalia. Her equipment was all she needed to survive.

  Have camera, will travel.

  * * *

  You’re not the hero you think you are.

  David stared at the note scrawled in demon blood he’d unfurled from the mailbox. The letters were written over one another in different strokes and multiple shades from red to black. Perhaps to camouflage the script? Maybe to make it almost illegible. Almost. Probably because the demon who wrote it was fixated on a point. He flipped the paper over.

  It’s time to settle the score.

  He stretched the sudden ache in his wings, then curled them tightly into place as he stared beyond the lawn of Thurston Mansion, the home of the Angel Alliance, the residence of the angels who were charged with keeping peace in Terror. A significant part of their job was to bind demonic powers and principalities.

  The message wasn’t addressed to anyone in particular, but it was meant for him. David understood that.

  Of course, you aren’t a hero; the voice in his head immediately assured him. He’d never thought he was. And what score were they talking about?

  Glimpses of another time, of another life—before he’d been assigned this angel gig—flashed in his mind. He caught snippets of him running into the street and pushing a woman with a stroller out of the path of an oncoming dump truck. The vehicle had struck him, sending him flying through the air. He didn’t recall landing.

  He’d been thirty-four when he’d died. He’d been at the right spot at the right time to save them as he walked along the street to meet a friend for lunch. After being assigned his angel duties, he’d learned the woman and her three-year-old little girl were safe. They’d only suffered a few bumps and bruises. But for him, it had been his admission to becoming an angel—the selfless act of giving his life to save someone else’s. It hadn’t been intentional, though. He’d simply reacted…and boom, that was it. He was reasonably sure that was what the note referred to. No, he wasn’t a hero.

  Regardless, a demon h
ad a beef about something, and the beast had figured out where he lived. But which demon? Not one of the new residents of Terror—the town attracted all kinds of supernaturals. But demons weren’t welcome.

  David considered the note. Was that a C scribbled at the bottom? He angled the page, trying to get better light. A name came to him as he did so. Caleb? The demon who had run him down, who was the reason David had died and was an angel today?

  The missive ignited, the letters sizzling, burning, then disintegrating into ash that fell from his fingers, dotting the snow with black soot.

  He wondered what this was about after all these years. Why now?

  Behind him, the snow crunched beneath tires. He turned his head as Rylan Lewis drove his Hummer next to him and stopped, rolling down the window. The building contractor had arrived for their meeting to look over the construction of the new gymnasium.

  “Our appointment still on?” Rylan asked.

  “Yes.” David rubbed his fingertips together to release any lingering particles of ash, then clasped the other letters. He waved it slightly. “Just getting some fresh air and the mail.”

  Rylan nodded. “Hop in, and we’ll head up the drive.”

  David did, knowing Rylan would otherwise be left waiting on him. It was a long drive to the house.

  At the top of the circle driveway in front of the mansion, Rylan threw the vehicle into park and turned off the ignition. “Something wrong?” he asked.

  David paused, averting his eyes away from the lion shifter. “No.”

  “Gotcha.”

  They both exited the Hummer, then walked up the steps to the mansion—one of the perks of his life as an angel. “We’ll go through the house to get to the gym.” After depositing the mail on the counter, he continued toward the back of the house. Out the window, he noticed Grady, the butler and house organizer extraordinaire, talking with three of the other angels who lived there. They were probably putting in their requests for the shopping list.

  David didn’t feel like continuing with the meet-up. He wanted to step away and contemplate the threatening message. But that was life. He often had to suck it up and do things he didn’t want to do even when he wasn’t alive in the traditional sense.

  “You didn’t look at it already, did you?” Rylan asked.

  “What? No. You asked me to wait. So I did.”

  Entering the new gymnasium, David expanded his wings, allowing them to test the breadth, taking up about half the width of the basketball court. Excellent. There was a lot of space. He took in the shiny wooden floors, inhaling the fresh scent of polyurethane that hung in the air. “Your crew did an outstanding job. The gym is exactly the way the angels need it—massive, with extra room on the sidelines and a soaring ceiling. The row of windows high up near the ceiling let in great light.” His voice echoed, bouncing off the folded bleachers and walls covered with black-and-teal mats.

  Rylan shoved his hands into his pockets, nodding. “Thanks. I knew it would come together. It was a bit dicey when I had to make a trip to Nocturne Falls around Halloween, but, since I’ve been back, everything has run like clockwork. The shell, meaning the framework and roof, was completed before the first snow, so we were able to do finish work from there on out.”

  “You said you added something special?”

  “Yeah. Right. That’s in the weight room. It isn’t quite finished, but let’s take a look,” Rylan said, leading the way.

  The lion shifter headed to the back corner of the court, then exited through a rear door. He moved across a short hall and into another room, this one almost the size of the basketball court but filled with equipment—the dream obstacle course for a supernatural. Weights and barbells sat at one end. Those were the only items that spoke of a standard weight room. The rest could be a setting for a parkour training facility with half walls, beams, bars, and climbing walls in all manner of configurations to jump, flip, and fly over.

  “Oh, wow. This is going to become the place. Awesome, man. Thanks.” He couldn’t wait to run off some tension in here himself.

  “The allies will be thrilled.” The allied angels need a lot of outlets for their pent-up energy. This should help. At times, it was darn frustrating to stand by and watch what idiot humans and supernaturals chose to do. But there were rules, and they weren’t allowed to interfere with or engage in the troubled instances the earth’s population found themselves in. The angels were there for duty first—to keep balance within Terror—not on a vacay.

  “Since we’re deep in winter, this will be great.” And maybe the angels could simply hibernate in the mansion all winter…in peace and quiet.

  * * *

  The road was slippery as Lyndsey drove along Sleepy Hollow Way. What a name for a street. Then again, the town was called Terror. Her stomach clenched as a bad feeling trickled through her. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel. That was ridiculous.

  Still, she couldn’t shake the nervous squeeze she’d had in her belly since she had crossed the city-limits sign.

  Something awful is going to happen today.

  Lyndsey blinked as her tires hit a patch of black ice, slid, and then regained traction. She wondered if she were going to crash—if maybe that was the reason for her anxiety or an additional purpose for why she was in Terror in the first place. Having a sixth sense didn’t mean the reasons why were clear. She looked around for a sign. But the blue sky outside her window appeared as they did any other day. She eyed the high school as she drove past. When she reached Nevermore Lane, the traffic light turned red. She stopped, then glanced at her phone to check the GPS. Maps weren’t working, and Justin’s house was off the grid. She sighed.

  To the right, several crows perched on a for-sale sign in front of an old Victorian house. They watched her with their beady eyes.

  She shuddered, an unreasonable fear setting in. The light changed, and she rolled on. The birds followed, flying alongside her car. Soon after, she passed the sheriff’s office. At least that meant they had law enforcement here. She’d heard wild things about Terror…tales of people disappearing. She shook her head, not quite sure where that thought had come from.

  Her tires skidded on the pavement again.

  Maybe she should have put on snow chains, but since it was only the first week of December, she’d figured she had more time before she needed them. With snow chains, the beautiful ride upstate would have been bumpy and noisy. As it was, the main highway had been clear of snow. Just those couple of patches of ice so far.

  After passing a dense thicket of trees, a massive gothic mansion came into view. She slowed, checking her rearview mirror for traffic before steering across the street into the mansion’s driveway. A set of gorgeous wrought-iron gates stood open at the entry. She glanced at her camera, where it rested on the passenger seat. It was where she always kept it when she was en route somewhere. A great shot could materialize when least expected—like this one.

  Lyndsey drove right on in, scanning the area for a place to get the best picture of the old building. She parked the car, grabbed her camera, and got out. A chance at an awesome image was always worth the risk of getting yelled at or thrown off the premises. And she trusted her gut as to which pictures were worth the extra effort.

  As she got out, she searched for the crows. They had gathered in the trees. She could feel them watching her.

  Stepping away from her car, she assessed the space. The mansion had spectacular lines. The outer wings jutted forward, framing the central main entrance. A turret with bay windows accented the left side. On the right, there was a mixture of large rectangular windows. The center section had arched cathedral windows. Low, neatly trimmed hedges were covered with snow.