The Seer's Lover

Inc.

The Seer’s Lover

by

Kat de Falla

The Seven Archangels, Book One

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

The Seer’s Lover

COPYRIGHT © 2014 by Kat de Falla

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com

Cover Art by Debbie Taylor

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

First Black Rose Edition, 2014

Print ISBN 978-1-62830-298-1

Digital ISBN 978-1-62830-299-8

The Seven Archangels, Book One

Published in the United States of America

Praise for THE SEER’S LOVER

Kat de Falla has created a well-written, sensual and suspenseful page-turner in a luscious tropical setting that had me from start to finish. I loved the sexy danger at every turn for the character of Calise Rowe, who has to wrestle with the realization that everything is not as it seems—including within herself and with her lover. This is a dynamic couple begging for a sequel or movie.

~Christine DeSmet,

author, writing instructor,

University of Wisconsin-Madison Continuing Studies

~*~

"Kat de Falla has written an excellent debut novel with a new approach to angels and demons. Her strong characters, combined with evocative descriptions and intertwined with a fast pace and tightly woven plot pull the reader into a heart-pounding story from the first paragraph. Ms. de Falla’s first book is impressive, and I can’t wait to read what she comes up with next.

~Ashantay Peters,

author of Death Stretch

Dedication

My heartfelt thanks goes out to The Wild Rose Press for believing in my novel and all the support from Rhonda Penders, RJ Morris, and Lisa Dawn. Thank you to my amazing editor Lill Farrell and my incredible cover artist Debbie Taylor.

Thanks to Tim Grandy for being the best high school English teacher a girl could ask for.

Thanks to my beta readers Jody, Amy, Rachel, Joe, my sister Lisa, and the wonderful Christine DeSmet from UW-Madison.

Also hugs to my loving parents and my kids for their patience when Mom is writing.

But more than anything, I thank my muse, my soul mate, my husband who makes every breath worth taking and every minute we spend together strengthen our love, loyalty, and friendship that will last infinitely in this beautiful universe.

Additional Information

Visit www.bayafaya.com for FREE music downloads that accompany this book.

~*~

A portion of the proceeds from this book

will be donated to www.iorphan.org

Chapter 1

Don’s Drug Store—Friday night

Wauwatosa, Wisconsin

A stain of a human being shoved through the front door of Calise Rowe’s pharmacy with just ten minutes left before close. Trying to hide her annoyance from the customer, she smiled tightly at him, feeling a twinge of unease and chills run down her spine. She didn’t need her secret senses to know the devil himself would shudder at the sight of this guy. A filthy smile peeked out from under his moldy beard. He slid a narcotic prescription known on the streets as hillbilly heroin—toward her.

Pure evil.

She pushed down her aversion to do her job as his legalized drug dealer. Her all-too-familiar feelings hit her like a punch in the gut. Close proximity with this guy made her skin crawl. Nothing about him in particular—not his stringy black hair, body odor, or dirty fingernails—clued her in to his black soul, but something deep within her said he presented a threat and she needed to get him out of her pharmacy—fast.

Ignore it. It’s nothing. Calise’s mother’s words replayed in her head. But she couldn’t suppress an inherent ability. Powerful waves of energy flowed around certain people. Not a day went by Calise didn’t wish to tear away the veil of lies and find the truth. She wanted to see for once, what she could only feel.

She glanced at the crumpled prescription. Give me a few minutes, Mister…Parker.

He licked his cracked lips, and she cringed when his tongue touched an oozing cold sore. No worries. I’m in no hurry, baby.

Pharmacology ran in Calise’s family. Her father had an unexpected heart attack while she was a senior in high school and stepped down from his position as co-owner of Rowe’s Pharmacy. She knew then that logic and practicality expected her to get her doctorate in pharmacology and join the family business.

She’d worked at Rowe’s Pharmacy as a cashier at sixteen after sweeping the floors at night in grade school. Her Uncle Don was getting excited about his own retirement now that he could hand his niece the reins. Dealing with drug addicts and the incessant discussion of elderly people’s bowel habits had her rethinking her career choice.

Have you had prescriptions here before? She typed his name into the computer and began to process the prescription. Damn her technician for calling in sick and leaving her alone.

Never taking his eyes off her, Mr. Parker leaned on the counter and drummed his long nails. No, babe, I’m a virgin with your pharmacy. But with a hottie like you working alone on a Friday night, this might become my new favorite hangout. Bloodshot eyes and mammoth pupils stared at her with cool confidence mixed with callous indifference.

She held her breath to escape the wretched mix of cigarette smoke and halitosis that burned her nostrils. Her mind screamed at her to hurry up and get rid of him. She handed him an information form to fill out.

He completed it and slid it back with an insurance card.

She finished processing the script and then retrieved the medication to count it.

You can put a few extra in there if you want. He pushed open the unlocked half door and headed toward her. Being lax with security would have to be corrected after this. Like this. He picked up the stock bottle and dumped the entire bottle into the amber pill vial. One fell on the floor. He leaned down, picked the green pill up and popped it into his mouth and began to chew.

Calise went from worried to panic in a millisecond. She backed away from him slowly only to be stopped by another counter three feet behind her. I don’t want any trouble. She pointed to the pharmacy safe. Take what you want.

Steal from my new dealer? he snorted. No way. He took his time peeling and placing the prescription label on his chock-full bottle. He withdrew a greasy one dollar bill from his front pocket. That should cover my co-pay. He shoved the bottle in his coat and stepped closer to her. About time for you to close, isn’t it? Go lock the front door, and I’ll walk you to your car. He threw a set of keys at her.

Her glittery palm tree key chain hit the floor with a clank and lay sprawled by her feet. Where did he get those? Calise was sure they’d been in her purse in the back of the store! She reached down to grab them and bolted for the front door. The local police station was only a block away.

Not so fast. His voice somehow whispered in her ear mid-stride causing her heart to skip a beat.

All at once Mr. Parker’s arms snaked around her shoulders, holding her fast. Shivers of fear sliced down her back while he forced her sideways down the narrow cough-and-cold aisle. Calise had an escape move in mind as soon as she had more room. Thank you, Mom for the karate lessons. She knew exactly how to break his hold. In her mind, she played out how it would go down. She’d step left then throw herself right to throw his balance off. At the same time, she’d lift her forearms, spin around, and slice him upwards between the legs. Then she’d run.

The longer he held her, the more Mr. Parker’s arms felt like immovable lead. His limbs radiated a heat that seeped through her smock and began to burn her flesh. They were almost to the end of the aisle where she would have more room. Calise tensed—ready to make her move in three…two…

The bell on the front door jangled. An older Latino man with a weary smile on his clean-shaven face walked in.

Time stopped.

Something not quite tangible permeated the air between them. Like Newton’s third law, a visible pull of two opposite and opposing forces drew the men together, even though they fought like hell to stay apart. Calise’s peripheral vision went black, and all she could see were the men frozen in a stare down, their bodies connected by some strange force field. Her head swam. She fought to stay conscious.

Mr. Parker tightened his grip on her. The rank smell of his body made her gag. He broke the stalemate. What is it, old man?

Both men held their ground posturing like wild animals bent on determining the pack leader.

The Latino man spoke. Let her go.

The moment ended as soon as Mr. Parker released her. Her head cleared and everything returned to normal—well, Calise’s normal, which was weirder than anyone else’s.

See you soon, gorgeous, said Mr. Parker. Turns out I have other plans tonight, and my fun with you will have to wait. With one last dirty grin, he pushed past the other man, opened the front door, and melted into the darkness, leaving only his lingering odor and the chiming bell behind.

When the door shut, Calise started shaking and gasped for breath. She grabbed a shelf for support. The Latino man rushed to her side.

Thank you, Calise huffed.

He took her by the elbow and helped guide her to the back of the store. Are you all right, miss?

"What just happened? What was that energy between you two?" Her only thought was of going home, taking some ibuprofen, and lying down. Something was so wrong with her.

I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about. Is it too late to pick up my prescription? Last name is Torres.

Mechanically, she retrieved his prescription bag and placed it on the counter. She needed answers before ibuprofen. After removing the medication, she leaned toward him. Mr. Torres, what happened over there? Please tell me. She rolled the prescription bottle over in her hands—blood pressure pills. Mr. Torres knew more than he let on.

He grasped her wrist. Why? What did you see?

She tensed, willing him to release the death grip his callused hand had on her wrist. His wild eyes held fear.

She swallowed. That man was pure evil. Wasn’t he? And you…You are—

After what I just did to the bad one… Tears welled up in Mr. Torres’ eyes. He turned his head away. …I am a dead man. He mumbled the last part then untangled their hands. Don’t leave alone tonight. Call someone to walk you out. He laid a ten dollar bill on the counter, picked up his medication, and turned to leave.

The bad one? He’s a dead man? Wait! Let me help you."

He paused and looked over his shoulder. No one can help me now, except my cousin, Carmen. But she is far away. In a hushed voice, he added, Never reveal yourself. Never.

What did you mean about the bad one? Something about this man and what he was saying clicked.

Evil lives among us. Can’t you see them?

She shook her head. I don’t see them, I feel them.

"If you want to live, hide your gift. El hombre was one of them. I have to go. Remember what I’ve said because you’ll never see me again." He continued toward the door.

Calise took a deep breath. Somewhere deep inside of her, she knew this man spoke the truth. She had so many more questions to ask him. "Where is your cousin Carmen? Maybe she can help me."

He returned to the counter and shook his head. No! Listen to me.

She started to interrupt. He held up his hand.

"You have to believe me. If he thinks you see him, he’d kill you. El demonio te matára. The demon will kill you," he translated.

Calise’s stomach tightened into a knot and a lump formed in her throat. What?

The phone rang. She turned toward the phone. A strange, warm wind caressed her face. She spun around, but the old man had disappeared with the wind.

She rushed to lock the pharmacy then hurried out back to her car with her keys poking out between her fingers in case she needed a weapon. The dim parking lot did little to ease her anxiety. Demons? That was crazy!

Some people were inherently good and others bad, but to push the spectrum and say angels and demons were what she’d been sensing all her life…well, that was just—

Next to her car, a body writhed on the ground.

Calise rushed forward. Mr. Torres! He choked and coughed, and his eyes rolled back in his head.

Shit. She dropped her purse and tried to clear his airway. Mr. Torres.

He…knows. Find Carmen in…Mal…Pais… He coughed. A green pill fell out of his mouth. You aren’t safe now.

Calise looked around her. Bushes rustled behind the parking lot. A pair of red eyes watched her then disappeared.

More tablets spilled from Mr. Torres’ mouth.

A wave of fury trembled through her.

Mr. Torres stopped moving, and Calise dialed 911.

****

Ferry in Puntarenas, Costa Rica

Calise exited her cab and stepped onto a bustling street. The thick, hot air smelled like a mixture of sewage and gasoline. People lounged against their cars waiting for the next ferry. A long caravan of vehicles lined the street, each primed to load on the next vessel leaving port.

Who knew just getting to Mal Pais would be such a hassle?

Calise’s older brother, Dean and some friends had spent a college spring break in Costa Rica and one of them never came home: Ron, the hippie die-hard surfer, who fell for a Brazilian beauty. He’d married her, and they opened a resort in—of all places—Mal Pais. Dean had arranged for her to stay in one of his jungle bungalows. Ron had even promised to pick her up from the ferry in Paquera and drive her the rest of the way back to his resort so she wouldn’t have to take a bus.

Calise’s parents and brother had gobbled up the nonsense she’d come up with about wanting a vacation after witnessing a patient overdose and death outside the pharmacy. She’d even booked a surf lesson to make it more convincing because she knew what they would say if she told them the truth.

Now, waiting for a ferry to get her to Mal Pais, all Calise could do was sweat. She couldn’t remember being so hot in her entire life. The late afternoon Costa Rican sun scalded the pavement. The temperature hovered in the high nineties with no shade or breeze to speak of. The stagnant air smelled rancid, and she was producing and expelling sweat from places she hadn’t known possessed that capability. She bought a hat and lukewarm water from a street peddler.

Her final destination, Mal Pais meant bad country. The dusty surfer town was located in the Nicoya Peninsula that jutted into the Pacific at the southern end of the country. To get there, she had first arranged a ride from the San Jose airport to where she was now, Puntarenas. The final leg of the journey was a sixty-five minute boat ride to Paquera where she’d meet Ron who’d drive her to his resort.

One week. If she couldn’t find the right Carmen and get some answers, she promised herself she’d see a shrink and start antipsychotics or antidepressants. Or whatever would make her normal. But she had to at least check to see if what she felt was true. For Mr. Torres, if nothing else. She couldn’t help but think he’d died because of her. Saving her. And she owed him.

She closed her eyes and sipped the tepid water. On the plane ride down, she’d amused herself with a different picture of her arrival. Wearing a swooshy, flower-patterned dress with spaghetti straps and heels, she’d visualized herself descending the stairs of the plane in her bikini-ready body. A warm, tropical breeze would meet her. The old Journey song Any Way You Want It would blare in the air behind her. A surfing instructor would greet her by holding up a big sign with her name on it and whisk her from the airport to begin her Costa Rican adventure. His nametag would say Raul and he’d introduce himself, taking the time to roll the R in his name. He’d be super badass Latin hot.

Then she’d find Carmen who’d show her Raul’s recessed horns and hooves hidden by boots. She’d catch a glimpse of his red eyes whereupon she could race home and…

Calise opened her eyes.

Race home and tell her doctor demons walked among us. That would go over swimmingly. They’d lock her up and throw away the key.

This was perhaps the most ridiculous plan she’d ever come up with.

Giddy up. Am I there yet?

****

The five o’clock ferry pulled into port. The vessel’s crew sandwiched cars into every crevice and nook on the boat with expert orchestration. Calise leaned on the railing and took in the day’s last rays kissing the sandy beaches and lush forests on the Nicoya Peninsula. She listened to the hum of the ship’s engine. Waves slapped against the sides of the vessel. The movement to the peninsula became significant to her. Although standing still, Calise moved forward. Finally.

For years, patronizing comfort and lack of clues kept her lifting her legs to walk, but Calise had kept putting her feet down in the same spot. How much of her life had she walked in place, searching for answers and always finding herself in the same location?

I’m sure they’re nothing, her mother had said of her feelings. Just ignore them.

This journey from the city to the jungle acted as a catalyst to fuel her heavy determination to find answers. Either Carmen existed or she didn’t; either she could help Calise understand the life pulse she sensed around people, or tell her Juan Torres had been clinically insane. More afraid of never knowing the truth than facing it, she worried anti-anxiety medication wouldn’t tame her particular ailment.

Alone and heading into the unknown, she shoved aside the fear which threatened to press in around her. Even if the trip proved a fool’s errand, for the first time in her life, she allowed herself to feel fully alive.

The sun dipped in the horizon by the time the ferry moored in Paquera. Happy she’d packed light, she wrapped her fingers around the handle of her suitcase and gazed at a deserted landscape speckled with swaying palm trees. She tugged the small carryon which contained a few swimsuits, her wetsuit, light clothes and sandals, and one cute dress in case the surf instructor of her dreams—or nightmares—morphed into reality.

Squawking birds searched for dinner. The sun tucked itself behind the horizon. The saltwater breeze mixed with the scent of the jungle, giving her unique adventure a sense of beginning.

Ron Jones sat waiting perched on an old Jeep. He looked just like Dean had described him—the sandy, shoulder-length blond hair of a California surfer, swim trunks, and multiple hemp necklaces. She watched him take a deep drag from his hand-rolled cigarette and wondered whether he would begin all his sentences with, Duuuude. She’d have to tell her brother that time hadn’t aged his hippiness, only amplified it.

Calise rolled her bag along the sidewalk. Ron? She extended her hand.

He nodded.

Hi, I’m Calise. Dean’s sister. Thanks so much for picking me up.

He stamped out his smoke on a rock, tossed it aside, and reached for her hand. His sturdy handshake reminded her of a man accustomed to conducting business one day and doing manual labor the next. She liked him immediately.

Ron put a brotherly arm around her. My resort down in Mal Pais is perfect for you. You’ll have a bungalow all to yourself. We’re near the beach, and I’ve hooked you up with surf lessons for the day after tomorrow like you asked. He tossed her luggage in the back of the Jeep. How’s Dean doing anyway?

His wife left him.

Ron’s head snapped around.

She shrugged. He and Max are better off. She was a monster.

What?

Calise sighed. I don’t mean it literally, but Liza was… she hesitated. "I couldn’t stand how she treated my brother, like she was the mother ship her family had to orbit around. She worked seventy hour weeks to keep scum out of jail. She stopped. I shouldn’t bad-mouth her. But I’m glad they woke up one day and she was gone. She didn’t even leave a note. But Dean and Max are better off without her. She sighed. So tell me about Mal Pais. You came here with Dean, right?" she asked.

We came here together on spring break our junior year of college. We were both starting to think about law school. But I met my beautiful wife, Anna, on the trip. Ron’s eyes glazed over just a bit. She was on vacation from Brazil. My father loaned me the money to buy this resort, and we’ve been here ever since. I even offer guided horseback riding trips through the jungle if you’re interested. He pointed in the direction of a guy carrying two large burlap sacks on each shoulder. Here comes my guide now. Lucas, this is Calise.

For one long moment, the guide’s eyes raked over Calise from head to toe. His coffee-brown eyes twinkled ever so slightly.

Hi. He started to give her a shy smile, and she caught sight of a dimple when he visibly shook off what Calise read as desire. After heaving the sacks into the back of the truck, he ran his fingers through his dark, wavy hair and averted his gaze altogether before he left to retrieve more grain.

Calise found she was holding her breath. He was the most beautiful, sexy man she’d ever seen. Hotter than any Raul of her fantasies, Calise watched his tan body, rippling with hard worked muscles, flex with each step he took away from her.

She tried to stay out of the way while Ron helped his guide load several more bags of grain. The guide didn’t look her way again.

All right, let’s get going. It’s getting dark. Calise, you can sit up front with me. Lucas is fine in the back.

She hopped into the Jeep, shut the door, and never looked back. They set out for the Howler Monkey Resort on roads she likened to driving on a plowed field.

Calise didn’t have any of her feelings about Ron or Lucas. There were none of the waves of nausea she’d felt around her sister-in-law or the drug addict from the pharmacy. Nor was there the old perfect, drug-like calm she’d had with her ex-boyfriend in college, Shane. But even Shane seemed to have a power over her she couldn’t control. Something she’d never liked. Lucas seemed different than anyone she’d met.

Do either of you know a lady named Carmen who lives in Mal Pais?

The men both laughed.

Sure we know Carmen. She’s famous in Mal Pais. Want me to introduce you? Ron asked.

Could it be this easy?

Yeah, I met a friend of hers who told me to come see her.

Who’s that? Ron said as the Jeep lurched over another dip in the road, much to the chagrin of Calise’s rear end.

The guide propped his elbows between Ron and Calise as if to listen.

Juan Torres. Do you know him?

Ron shrugged. He probably remembered how good her pizzas are.

I’m sorry. Pizza?

Carmen’s restaurant is a hot spot. Best food in Mal Pais. See Lucas, you should tell her, her reputation precedes her.

The pizza lady couldn’t be the Carmen that Mr. Torres had spoken of, could she? Calise looked back at the guide a few times. Each time, she caught him staring at her. Sadness filled his expression before he looked away.

Maybe she was crazy and antipsychotic meds would fix everything when she got home. Demons couldn’t possibly exist and the only famous Carmen in town…made pizza.

****

The resort sat perched atop an impossibly steep dirt road on the outskirts of Mal Pais. Smack in the middle of thick jungle, was Ron and Anna’s place—marked with a sign hammered to a short, wooden post that read, The Howler Monkey Resort. When they reached the summit, Ron jumped out and came around to open her door. She climbed out of the Jeep with the last snatches of daylight waning. She was rewarded with a view of the overlook to the ocean’s multilayered sunset of crimson, ginger, and delicate pinks. She couldn’t wait to catch the breathtaking view it promised the next morning.

There’s my house, and the stables are over there. Ron pointed. The guest pool is by the kitchen and behind that, is a path leading to the guest bungalows. I’ll get your bags while you have a look around.

Lucas dropped his eyes when she spied him once again watching her.

Hey Lucas, can you close the gate on your way out? Ron asked.

He nodded, gave Calise one more long look, and disappeared into the night. She heard the gate groan when Lucas pushed it shut.

She wandered up to the kidney-shaped guest pool, the centerpiece of this Eden. A lit three-tiered waterfall cascaded down a natural rock outcropping on one side, where dozens of sweet-smelling, showy orchids dipped their petals into the cool water. Loose petals floated on the surface. Teak lounge chairs with fluffy blue pads lined the periphery of the pool.

I’ll put your bag in your room. Sit down by the kitchen and relax. I’ll fix you a drink.

Thanks, Ron. A drink would be heavenly. She ducked into the open-air kitchen. The space boasted a full refrigerator, grill, and a twelve-by-six foot cut stone counter. Baskets of fruit hung from the overhang above and spices waited on the counter, as if begging use. She sat at a small table and inhaled the moist evening scent of the jungle around her, heavy with the pungent fragrance of unfamiliar flowers. The late night drone of insects filled her head.

And in an instant, her Eden was ruined. The temperature suddenly dropped and a cool shiver of fear radiated down her spine, crawling out to her arms as goose bumps marred her skin as though she’d gone outside in winter without a coat. A stunning woman appeared before her with an iguana in her arms and a monkey perched on her shoulder. A crimson skirt and cream tank top wrapped snugly around her enviable thirty-something body. Long dark hair cascaded down her back like a black river, her green eyes and tan skin somehow blending serenely into the surroundings. Calise’s all too familiar feelings flooded her senses.

Not now.

Hola, I am Anna, Ron’s wife. She enunciated her name, pronouncing it ah-na. This is Screech and this one, Big Greens. She shook Calise’s hand with the one not occupied with the massive green iguana.

The skin seared Calise’s flesh like ice. She pulled away.

Who might you be, darling? Anna asked.

Calise wanted to run but forced herself to take deep breaths to quiet the pain on her hand and in her lungs. I’m Calise Rowe. Your husband and my brother are old friends.

Calise could not stop staring at Anna. Something was very wrong with this beautiful woman. The same old unexplainable feelings washed over her that had so many times before. Something icy, cold and dark like a cloudy, moonless night. Calise