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    When Midnight Comes
    When Midnight Comes
    When Midnight Comes
    Ebook88 pages1 hour

    When Midnight Comes

    By Lori Handeland

    ()

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    About this ebook

    What walks the streets of 19th century New York?

     

    Newly dead Jack Keegan may be doomed to wander the earth forever with only a lantern to light his way unless he atones for the sins of a lifetime. Will his love for Lucia Casale, and hers for him, be the only thing that can save him?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLori Handeland
    Release dateMar 8, 2017
    ISBN9781386906780
    When Midnight Comes
    Author

    Lori Handeland

    Lori Handeland decided she wanted to be a writer when she was ten years old and was struck with the sudden fear that she might read all the books in the world and be left with nothing interesting to do. Detours into waitressing, teaching, business management, and motherhood pushed her dream of writing back a few years, but she eventually sold her first novel in 1993. Since then her books have spanned the contemporary, historical, and paranormal genres. She is recipient of many industry awards, including the PRISM for Dark Paranormal Romance. Lori lives in Wisconsin with her husband, two sons, and a yellow lab named Elwood.

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      Book preview

      When Midnight Comes - Lori Handeland

      CHAPTER 1

      New York City, 1869

      Jack Keegan wandered the streets of his youth. He had come a long way from his boyhood in this immigrant ghetto of New York City. He’d come even farther from the land of his birth.

      Ireland. He remembered her well. A land of beauty so deep and mystical the memory made him ache. A land of ugliness so stark and painful he could still hear the howls of the hungry and the tears of the dying. Especially here, on this dark street where children starved in a land of plenty.

      How long since he had said good-bye to this place? To his past? To her?

      A lifetime. Where was she now? Was she well? Was she happy? Had she forgotten him? Despite his angry words and desperate need, he had never forgotten her. Despite his wealth and power and position, he was still a child of this place, a child of Ireland.

      The mouth of a long, dark alley gaped before him. Jack took a deep breath, welcoming the burn of midnight air into his chest, then stepped into his past.

      The smell remained the same—dirt, damp, death, and decay. In the depths of the darkness he heard scuffles and shuffles. Rats. Dogs. People. Hiding from the unknown. For a moment he saw himself as they must see him, out of place here. A swell ripe for the picking.

      A scrape from behind made Jack pause, then slowly turn. A boy, or perhaps a young man, small for his age most likely, growth stunted by starvation and depravation. The silver hint of the moon revealed the hopeless glint to the boy’s eyes. Jack had been hopeless once and knew how desperate one became. This child could have been him twenty years ago, except for the knife. Jack had never relied on a knife to get what he wanted. He had cheated and he had stolen, but his wits had been his weapon.

      No need for that, son. I’ll give ye what I’ve got.

      The brogue Jack had fought so long and so hard to erase from his voice returned without warning. The boy’s eyes narrowed with suspicion and his fingers tightened on the knife.

      Here. Jack reached into his pocket. Without ever making a sound the child sprang forward, plunging the knife into Jack’s chest.

      As Jack fell, he heard someone screaming his name from a very long way away. Jack recognized the voice—a voice that had haunted him for the past ten years.

      Lucia, he whispered.

      And then he died.

      Jack!

      Lucia Casale clutched her chest, feeling the slice of the knife deep into her own heart. They had been one person, one heart and one soul. Jack had turned away from her, but she had never turned away from him. Even in this purgatory where she existed, paying penance for sins she refused to acknowledge, she was still one with the man she had always, would always, love.

      Once he had saved her from certain death, had kept her safe and warm and given her life. She must now try to do the same for him.

      Her world was a gray place without substance. Lost and lonely souls haunted the murky mist, and she ran by each one without a word. She ran until her aching heart threatened to burst, and then she ran some more. At last she reached the place where the one who had power over them all could be found.

      "Buon giorno! she called. Hello?"

      The gray mist separated and he appeared, a tall, gentle-eyed man who reminded Lucia of her long-dead father.

      Lucia. He sighed. What is it now?

      Jack. He’s dying.

      He’s already dead, and on his way to… He stopped, looked downward.

      Lucia winced.

      Why would you want to help a man like him? A man who turned his back on your love? A man without faith, or hope, or charity. A selfish man who cares nothing for what is important and everything for what is not.

      Lucia ignored his assessment of Jack. She understood Jack better than anyone. She knew his soul, and it was not as black as it appeared.

      Desperate, she tried again. You have to do something.

      He was shaking his head even before she finished her plea. You know I can do nothing.

      You’re a saint and yet you can do nothing?

      St. Peter’s lips tightened at her borderline blasphemy, but he was used to her irreverence. During her lifetime she had been one of the faithful. But she had lost her faith and with it her chance to enter the realm beyond the gate he guarded.

      You know what I can do, and what you must do.

      Then you will help him?

      St. Peter’s warm brown eyes saddened. Not me. He held out his hand. From his fingers dangled a worn, beaded necklace.

      Lucia reached out and took the offering. With a deep sigh she fell to her knees and did what she had sworn never to do again. Her fingers trembled as they touched her forehead, her heart, shoulder to shoulder before she began: I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth…

      Her voice echoed throughout the realm of purgatory. Her plea reached toward heaven and was heard.

      Blasting heat, the stench of sulfur, crying, screaming, moaning.

      Jack awakened into the darkest darkness he had ever known. Not a speck of light penetrated the cloak of black surrounding him. He reached out and felt nothing. He stood, but the absence of sight made him stumble and sway. Where was he? What had happened?

      He remembered walking away from his office in Manhattan, all the way to the ghetto of his youth. And then…

      The alley. The child. The knife. Lucia’s voice.

      Well, hell, he muttered.

      Got it on the first try, boyo.

      Jack started and bumped into the owner of the voice, who stood directly behind him. The scalding heat of the unknown being’s flesh made him back away. He did not want to touch that person again, nor be touched by him.

      Who’s there?

      Who d’ ye think, Jackie, me boy?

      Horror flooded Jack. He had thought never to

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