5,99 €
Mehr erfahren.
- Herausgeber: Conquest Publishing
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
Jake Perlman's fate changed forever as a child when a dam broke on the way to school, washing his bus over a bridge. Before the Angel of Death could claim him, a Shepherd named Omiel stole Jake from his fate. Now as a Stolen in his adulthood, Jake uses his powers under Omiel's guidance to assemble his coterie, a group of Stolen with abilities like his.
Yael Taube learned in her youth she would become a Companion, the soulmate to a Stolen. After an unfortunate event finds Yael in the presence of her Stolen, Jake, things take motion.
Jake and Yael learn of their fates and see hope for their future. However, pulling the coterie together is anything but easy. Between their shared trauma, doubt in their fate, and evil beings called Sirens trying to harm them, the coterie's future is anything but certain. Despite the Shepherds' direction, there are dangers ahead. If the Stolen and their Companions come together too soon, it could lead to their undoing, but the world and the coterie are counting on their success.
If you enjoyed reads such as
The Irin Chronicles by Elizabeth Hunter and
Hush, Hush by Becca Fitzpatrick; you won't be able to put this one down.
Das E-Book können Sie in Legimi-Apps oder einer beliebigen App lesen, die das folgende Format unterstützen:
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024
Ähnliche
The Physician
Book One | The Stolen Ones
Magdalene Dietchka
AConquest Publishing Original
Conquest Publishing
https://conquestpublishing.wixsite.com/conquest
Cover Design: Abigail Wild
Edited by: Brittany McMunn & Rebecca Fein
Copyright © 2023 Madalene Dietchka
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-962739-01-6
E-Book ISBN: 978-1-962739-00-9
Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, and places are products of the author’s imagination.
Contents
Note from the Author
Dear Reader,
The Stolen started out as a short story in 2016 as an exercise to relieve boredom. When the first quarantine hit in 2020, I decided to return to the short story and expand it. As the novel came together, I realized there was more to this world, and thus The Physician and subsequent planned books were born.
When I told my sister about finishing this novel and making significant progress with book two, The Comforter as it will be called, she sent me the following quote from Fran Lebowitz:
“Very few people possess true artistic ability. It is therefore both unseemly and unproductive to irritate the situation by making an effort. If you have a burning, restless urge to write or paint, simply eat something sweet and the feeling will pass.”
Well, dear reader, I ate copious amounts of chocolate, and the feeling didn’t pass. So, here is my attempt. I guess you could say this book is dedicated to my curmudgeon sister and my friends, Elizabeth and Kate, for helping me by reading the rough draft and giving me their insights. I also want to thank my editor; without Lauren this book would not be what it has become. And lastly, I want to thank my long-suffering husband for his support and understanding of the long hours that went into this book. Without my friends and family, this wouldn’t have been possible.
Also, one of my favorite authors likes to remind her readers of a few things.
Romance novels, by necessity, must condense relationships into a concise amount of time. If you’re searching for your perfect Companion, remember relationships rarely bloom from the first meeting into marriage in a few short weeks or months. There are many great Companions and lovers out there, but there are also many weirdos. If you feel uncomfortable, trust your instincts. You don’t owe anyone anything. I’ve placed trigger warnings on the last page of this book. I’ve placed these at the end to prevent spoilers for those who may not need them. If you have particularly strong emotions about a subject you feel you might encounter in the pages of this book, please feel free to flip to that page for details.
I hope you enjoy the story.
The Shepherds
The truth about mankind is they’re extraordinarily poor record keepers. The fall of civilizations invariably end with the destruction of records and knowledge. Sometimes, all that’s left, if anything, are fragments or secondary sources. Holy scriptures are no different. Lost languages, forgotten prayers, or hieroglyphics that go untranslated for millennia all lead to muddied stories. The story of the Watchers is no different.
When God created humanity, he knew one day they would fall from grace. So, He created an order of angels charged to watch over humanity and guide them. The Watchers. However, some of them gave humanity forbidden knowledge and lay with mortal women who bore the Nephilim. God punished the humans who were corrupted by the fallen Watchers and the trickery of the Devil. He flooded the land around the Black Sea and locked the Watchers in prison until Armageddon. They were bound in the Veil between worlds, no longer able to enter the mortal world, nor pass into Heaven or Hell, but still able to guide the dead through the Veil.
Not every Watcher turned against their duties. As such, two factions arose. The Shepherds and the Sirens. The Shepherds loved humanity and encouraged them to be generous, kind, and human. The Sirens were the very angels who corrupted their charges and fell further from the light of God after their imprisonment. The Sirens ceased to guide souls bound for Heaven, but delighted in harrying souls bound for Hell. When Armageddon approaches, their prison walls will weaken under each tribulation suffered by humanity, allowing the Watchers to send a part of their essence without escaping.
The Shepherds saw the goodness and joy in humanity and loved their charges. They didn’t want to see them harmed. Eventually, they discovered a loophole to protect humanity from destruction. They found worthy children who could see them and those children were fated to die in a tragedy and be taken by Azrael, the Angel of Death. The Watchers served Azrael before their imprisonment, and the Shepherds continued their allegiance even afterward. These dozen or so children were molded into warriors, prophets, and healers to save humanity from the coming catastrophe, knowing it meant the Watchers would remain imprisoned. The Sirens were desperate to be freed from their prison and encouraged corrupt souls to fight against the forces of good and bring about the end times. Locked in battle, the two sides have struck blows, neither one succeeding in a decisive victory, and every generation has seen a renewed conflict. For millennia, this was the way of it, and until God decrees otherwise, it will remain this way for millennia to come.
Prologue
Jacob
Seventeen Years before Present Day
The landscape was littered with nature’s destruction. Last night’s storm matched Jacob Perlman’s dark mood. He hated his rural middle school and his freshman year sucked. Jake stared out of one of the closed bus windows at the downed limbs and flooded lawns. He was so sick of assholes destined to peak in high school and go nowhere in life. Getting shoved into another locker because he aced a test everyone else failed got old. Yeah, they called him a nerd, but his ambition forced him to be the best at everything he did. He had to be. Being the son of two leading pharmaceutical researchers already placed pressure on him to achieve academic excellence. Jake would graduate in three years and could not wait to spend the new millennium away from here.
The bus driver slowly wound his way down the road, cursing the school not so quietly for not closing due to the flooding and debris clogging the roads. Jake agreed with the old man. He didn’t want to look at his schoolmates, the day had been rough enough already. Out of the corner of his eye, Jake saw Shepherds near each student, which concerned him. The Shepherds were humanoid, almost translucent, and glowed with a golden hue. They bore two wings on their back, and their hair flowed like fire. The creatures rarely stayed near their charges for long. He had always been able to see them and talk with them whenever he wanted, but no one else could. The Shepherds had told him they lived between the worlds of the living and the dead.
When Jake was a child, his parents thought the Shepherds were just imaginary friends. By the time Jake turned ten, he realized adults became uncomfortable when he spoke to the Shepherds or talked about them. His parents told him he was too old for imaginary friends and took him to child psychologists. Jake quickly learned to shut up and limit his interactions with Omiel, his Shepherd. Omiel was a constant presence in his life and taught him to cope with his ability to see into the Veil between worlds. Over time, Jake learned to block out the Shepherds as just another part of the terrain, but if he focused, he witnessed them appearing and briefly following their charges.
Today, every student on the bus had a Shepherd near them, another reason he stared out the window. Normally, he might see two or three. Omiel floated particularly close to him today. Jake’s friendship with his Shepherd had become strained as of late, and he avoided speaking with the creature.
“When the time comes, grasp my hand,” Omiel whispered to him, which alarmed Jake.
He scanned the bus, but as usual no one else heard a thing. The language used by the Shepherds wasn’t English or Hebrew. He knew both, albeit his Hebrew was rudimentary at best, as he had only learned what he needed for his bar mitzvah. Yet, he could understand the beings when they spoke. He wanted to respond, but hell, that would paint a bigger target on his back.
Just as the bus driver crossed the bridge taking them over the river, Jake saw a wall of water and storm debris rushing toward them.
“Watch out!” he yelled at the driver.
Instead of gunning it, the bus driver panicked and hit the brakes. The water slammed into the bus, shoving them to the opposite side of the bridge. They crashed against the guardrails, breaking them like toothpicks. The bus plunged over the edge into the water with a crash, tossing students in all directions. The middle schoolers cried in fear as the bus bobbed upright in the water. The driver was slumped over the wheel unconscious. A tree the floodwaters had ripped up torpedoed through the glass door of the bus. Water roared inside, and everyone’s screaming and panicking hurt Jake’s ears.
He scrambled to the emergency exit window, but the bus spun around in the torrent, slamming into large debris and the underwater riverbanks, tossing him into the seat. Jake was finally able to reach the window and tried to get it open. One girl, Deanna, recovered her wits and helped him yank on it. Deanna was a serious girl who normally left him alone. Jake didn’t know if it was a good idea or a bad idea to open the exit; all he knew was staying inside the bus was a death sentence. The Shepherds stayed with their charges, but again, no one could see them. He wanted to yell at them to do something, but he didn’t have time. The bus was sinking quickly.
The bus turned on its side and bobbed to the surface with the exit window facing upward, temporarily stopping the water gushing in the front door. The sight gave him a glimmer of hope that freedom was in sight, and they managed to get the window open. Jake helped Deanna through the window first and then climbed out himself, trying to cling to the bus. He reached in to help the next student out. Students saw the open window and pressed toward the emergency exit. As he pulled a sixth grader through, the remnants of a roof slammed into the bus. The collision threw the three children into the water and knocked the bus away from them. Jake struggled to stay above rushing flood waters despite repeatedly being pulled under. Something slammed into his side, hurting his left arm and piercing his leg. Something else struck his stomach, which caused him to go under. His injuries prevented Jake from breaking the surface no matter how hard he kicked and flailed. His lungs burned, and he desperately wanted to inhale, but knew that meant death. As Jake thought he was going to lose his battle, a glowing hand pierced the choppy surface of the angry water and reached for him. Jake gripped Omiel with his good hand and held on without a second thought.
The next thing he knew, Jake woke up on the side of the river, snagged on some trees with his lower half still in the water. Omiel knelt next to him trying to comfort him.
“I am sorry, Jacob, son of Isaak, we would have saved them all if we could,” he spoke mournfully.
Jake’s head pounded like a drum. He looked downstream and couldn’t see his classmates or the bus. The water was calm but full of debris. Jake had no clue how long he lay there. Cold and hurting all over, before he grabbed a branch to pull himself up the riverbank while his brain fought to make sense of what had happened. Jake didn’t recognize his surroundings. The bank was covered in waterlogged tree limbs, trash, and brambles. Jake fought back tears; crying wouldn’t do him any good. He needed help. Jake caught a faint whiff of smoke and peered above him. At the top of the riverbank, he saw a cabin probably used by sportsmen who fished the normally tranquil bend in the river.
Jake crawled up the bank, calling out, “Help! HELP ME!”
Two men came running from the bank farther downriver and helped Jake roll over and sit up. The older one of the pair exclaimed, “Holy Mother of God, I didn’t see you there in the debris! Samuel, call 911. Let them know we have an injured kid.”
“Okay, Dad. My phone’s on the charger. I’ll be right back,” Samuel replied before rushing up the riverbank toward the cabin.
The older man quickly assessed Jake’s injuries before helping him up. The man supported Jake as they also climbed up the bank to the house.
“You’re fucking lucky we came out of the cabin to see the damage when we did. Or we weren’t down here with our poles in hand when the water swept through. What’s your name, son? I’m Gerald.”
“Jake…Jacob Perlman.”
His teeth chattered as shock set in. Jake hurt all over, and his abdomen ached. Caked in mud from head to toe, Jake could feel blood trickling down his leg.
“All right, Jake, we got you. We’ll get an ambulance here, or we’ll drive you to the hospital if they aren’t able to make it through.”
Gerald got them to a deck that overlooked the river.
Looking down from this height, Jake saw the utter destruction up and down the river. He must not have drifted too far because he could see where the bridge was gone. He looked to Omiel for comfort. He stood next to Gerald’s Shepherd. Gerald’s Shepherd whispered in his charge’s ear. Not that Gerald could audibly hear it. Shepherds nudged a person in one way or another through quiet promptings. The person would feel encouraged or inspired, but they would hear nothing. Jake almost spoke to the Shepherds when Samuel ran out with his phone to his ear.
“Dad, they’re saying the dam failed, and they dispatched all the EMS. They’ll try to get to us ASAP but want to know if there are any more injured.”
“My…my bus went into the river.” Jake struggled to think through a muddled brain. He glanced at the men, but the shock robbed him of the ability to tell them more.
The two men stared at him with horror-struck expressions, and Samuel gripped the phone tighter. “Jesus Christ, the kid was on a school bus. Get rescuers out here now! I’m going to hand you to my dad. His name is Gerald Evans, and I’m going to grab my truck and head downstream to search for more kids.” Samuel quickly handed the phone over and bolted to his truck.
As Gerald moved him to a chair inside the sliding glass door, Jake went numb and wondered, Why me? Why not the others?He knew in his heart they wouldn’t find anyone else alive.
“We stole you from death today because we will need you soon. Your journey has just started, Jacob, son of Isaak. We will send a coterie of Stolen and Companions who will join and support you in the trials ahead.”
Omiel moved closer to Jake and touched him on the shoulder. With that, a sense of peace fell over Jake, but it wasn’t much comfort considering his final thoughts before he lost consciousness were of the ones who didn’t make it.
Sometime later, he woke up in sharp pain as he was lifted onto a stretcher being taken to the waiting ambulance. The rest of the day faded into a blur as they rushed Jake into surgery due to the internal bleeding in his abdomen. They also pinned his arm and cleaned and stitched his thigh wound. The surgeon, Dr. Quincey, held Jake’s hand and assured him he would be okay. When he looked into the man’s eyes, Jake could only smile weakly and nod a thank-you before the world faded to black.
Jake woke again in the recovery room filled with kindly nurses and his surgeon. He wondered where his parents were as he looked about the room.
“Jacob, it’s good to see you awake,” Dr. Quincey said in his deep, kind baritone. The man checked over Jacob’s sutures. “Your parents are in the waiting room. We’ll get you moved to a room and call them up to see you. First, I’m going to check your stitches and get your vitals. Tell me if anything hurts and we’ll give you something for the pain.”
The man was infinitely gentle with him.
Jake’s tongue felt like lead. “Hurts.”
“Okay, Jacob, we’ll give you some morphine and make you comfortable. Your parents have been worried about you. We’ve all been worried, and we’re grateful you’re still with us. Dr. Harlsen will be in to speak with you tomorrow. You can talk to him about anything.”
Dr. Quincey pulled out a penlight and checked Jake’s pupils and completed his exam. The surgeon then pressed the button to give Jake a dose of morphine. “You’ll make a full recovery as long as you listen to our instructions and rest.”
Jake watched Omiel for confirmation, and his Shepherd bowed. “He is the finest at his craft. Do not worry. I have not left your side, nor will I.”
“Omiel, did any of the others survive?” Jake started to feel sleepy.
Dr. Quincey leaned over and held Jake’s hand. “Omiel? Is that a friend?” The doctor’s voice was deep with concern. “I think you need to rest. Your parents and Dr. Harlsen will talk to you tomorrow about the others.”
Yael
Four Years Before Present Day
Seventeen-year-old Yael Taube sat in her senior civics class, reading over her assignment choices. She needed to research an event, or events, showing a failure of public policy and write a paper about the pros and cons on the role of government regarding the failure. The teacher distributed a list of potential topics. As Yael looked over the list, she noticed one about crumbling infrastructure. She tilted her head and considered it. The other option that appealed to her was the national mental health crisis. Tapping her pen on her notebook, she struggled to decide. Yael could rock both topics, and with her track meet coming up in a few days, she needed to crank this out quickly.
Yael considered writing about the mental health crisis because of her Savta,or grandmother in English. Savta was a Holocaust survivor and, some believed, a schizophrenic. Her parents named her to honor her grandmother Yael Weiss, who married her Saba, or grandfather, Benjamin Taube. She loved her so much and honestly had a hard time with people dismissing her delusions. Her Savta talked to creatures she called the Shepherds, and was thoroughly convinced these delusions were real, but the “delusions” were generally harmless. She claimed these Shepherds saved her from the Palmiry massacres and guided her through her life.
Savta said everyone had a Shepherd who watched over them and encouraged them to do better. She told Yael stories about the Shepherds and her childhood before the war. Her grandmother called Yael special and said she had a destiny. Savta also would tell her about her Saba and how much they loved each other. Savta assured Yael the Shepherds would bring her a love like that. Yael often sat and listened to her grandmother’s ramblings and often stayed when her Savta’s friend came to visit from Switzerland.
Yael liked Mattias Bühler, whom she knew to be a kind man. For a man in his early seventies, he was tall and fit. Slightly balding, the man always wore horn-rimmed glasses. It was evident her Savta and Mattias had a strong bond, and they had seen things they wouldn’t dare talk about around others. When Mattias visited, they would reminisce about their time together and speak about spouses and friends.
During one visit, Mattias and Savta started an intense conversation while playing cards. Yael sat on the floor reading through her homework when Savta asked her to get them some tea. Yael intentionally snuck back to eavesdrop on their conversation. That was when she doubted the severity of her grandmother’s mental health. The old friends both spoke emphatically about the Shepherds, and Mattias had mentioned he knew they were choosing new Stolen. Her Savta confirmed it and expressed hope the new ones were as successful as they had been during their tenure. Just as their conversation got more detailed, Yael’s father startled her, and she knocked over a plant. The two elders immediately changed the subject by talking about Europe during the 1960s.
After Mattias left and her Savta prepared for bed, Yael knocked on her door. “Savta, can I come in?”
“Of course, Yael. Come right in.” Her grandmother sat on the bed with her reading glasses hanging on a chain around her neck and a crossword book next to her. She regarded Yael for a moment, then squinted over Yael’s shoulder. “Close the door, child.” Savta patted the bed next to her.
Yael always felt a shiver go up her spine when her grandmother stared at nothing. “Savta, I overheard you speaking with Mattias about Shepherds. I promise to keep an open mind. Could you tell me about them?”
Her Savta took her hand. “Yes, because you are special in this world, and someday you’ll need to know these things. Your Shepherd, Elemiah, will be with you always as a guide and protector. You must learn to feel his nudges and take his advice. Let me teach you.”
Bringing herself back to the present, Yael returned to the infrastructure option. Writing about the mental health crisis would be a passion, but she sensed nothing from her Shepherd. Everyone knew she had applied to several universities with fabulous psychology programs and would expect her to choose that topic. Instead, Yael racked her brain for disasters in the United States. Dam failures and bridge collapses came to mind. She remembered a dam collapse in Massachusetts when she was a child. The New Deal Era dam collapsed and caused millions in damage and killed dozens of people downstream. Yael remembered her parents watching the news after dinner, the pictures of the devastation, and the story of the sole survivor of a bus full of kids. Images of a bus smashed on a riverbank played on evening news. Yael feared being on a bus going over bridges for a few months in first grade. Afterward, Yael’s parents set her down to reassure her that the odds of her ever seeing such a disaster were slim to none. With that memory in the back of her mind, Yael decided to forego writing about mental health and go with the infrastructure paper using the dam break as her centerpiece.
Jacob
August 18, Present Day
Jake pulled into the parking lot of the Hawks and Doves Social Club and turned off the engine of his Cadillac. “Omiel, I really don’t want to hear it tonight. I’m sick of going home to an empty house and having no social interactions except with you.”
“You need your rest, Jacob, son of Isaak. I am only worried about you.” Omiel floated to his side.
“You’re like a mother hen. I won’t stay long. I just want to spend an hour with my brothers before I go home.” Jake scratched his stubble-covered cheek.
“Very well, but do not tarry too long.” Omiel glided next to him as he headed for the door of the club.
Jake refused to admit to Omiel the level of his exhaustion. The life of a senior resident required long hours at the hospital and studying. He wanted to relax with friends before going home and grabbing some much-needed sleep. Jake strode into the members-only social club and scanned the room.
H&D, as it was known by the members, was one of the best in the Washington, DC area, maybe on the East Coast. The club organized charitable donations for antiwar causes while supporting veterans affected by those wars. An attending surgeon who took a liking to Jake recruited him during his first year of residency. He chose to join after treating several veterans during his rotations. Thankfully, he could afford the fees thanks to his low cost of living. His parents had given him his inheritance early to pay for a townhome in the metro area and pay for his medical school tuition. That meant his paltry resident’s salary stretched farther than it did for his colleagues.
The club resided in an old Gilded-Age manor that had been a hotel at one time in its life. The lobby served as a check-in area manned by security to ensure only members passed into the club’s main areas. The old mahogany bar and renovated ballroom were the main part of the club. Located off to the side, an area reserved for relaxation contained chesterfield couches and chairs situated among flowers and other plants to offer some privacy for those engaged in conversation.
In the lounge area, Jake recognized a group of his friends he considered more like family than friends. He flopped down into one of the overstuffed chairs and nodded to the three men and three women sitting around a low coffee table. The club owner, Vadim Kuznetsov, had become a surrogate father to their little group. Daniel Dupree, Stefan Chernenko, and he were only children. In Stefan’s case, he was also an orphan. Jake noted their other brother Kareem Haddad’s absence tonight. Because of Vadim and his wife, Ksenia, the four men had bonded as more than just friends. They backed each other as if they were blood. Pleased to see Vadim, Daniel and Stefan engaged in conversation with the three women sitting with them. He greeted the group with a wave of his hand.
At twenty-seven, Stefan took the place of the little brother. The combat veteran worked for a private security company and often traveled for work. Seeing Stefan surprised Jake and affirmed his decision to come into the club. Jake hadn’t seen Stefan in a couple months. The man’s steel-gray eyes always held a hardness making him seem older. He kept his short, sandy-brown hair in a military-style haircut, in stark contrast to Jake’s curly, dark, collar-length hair and dark eyes. The former army sergeant and current military contractor cut a commanding presence when the situation called for it. Stefan often dressed in simple khakis and a nice polo shirt, preferring to keep things simple, in contrast to most members dressing in suits or business attire. Stefan and Jake often bantered about football because Jake was a die-hard Patriots fan from Massachusetts and Stefan was a hardcore Steelers fan from Pittsburgh. Of course, being in Washington, DC, they understood they were in Redskins and Ravens territory. They both loved their football teams and spent every fall teasing each other.
A friend named Amber sat next to Stefan, her sweet personality perfect for her role as a nurse. Amber’s sense of humor kept everyone on their toes, including her partner, Vicki. Stefan watched over the pair like a protective older brother despite being younger than Vicki, who was absent.
“Hey, Stef. Great to see you. When did you get back?” Jake inquired.
Stefan grimaced in irritation and shifted in his seat. “Two nights ago. The facility we were guarding decided they didn’t need twenty men, so they sent half the team home. Frankly, I’d rather be here than guarding some business that doesn’t listen to their professional guards. I just hope their cost cutting doesn’t get our men killed.”
“I suspect it is as annoying as a patient arguing they know more than you after thirteen years of education and residency.” Jake blew out a breath. “I get those at least once per day in the ER.”
Daniel inclined his head to Jake. “Your patients should be glad they have Dr. Perlman and not Dr. Chernenko. They’d be removing sterile gauze from uncomfortable areas.” Just a year older than Stefan, the pair had been roommates at boarding school. They met in middle school, and their friendship occasionally invoked a mild jealousy in Jake. He’d never formed a bond like that in school, before or after the dam break.
A scion of a wealthy family, Daniel owned several corporations focusing on the economic development of agricultural regions worldwide. The parent corporation engaged in fair trade for crops and would help farmers develop more sustainable techniques in exchange for the exclusive rights to purchase the crops for several years. Dan’s stylishly cut dark hair and jade eyes were a striking difference from his best friend given Daniel preferred suits to jeans. Around his brothers, Dan was relaxed and gregarious. The rest of the time, Dan was serious and all business.
At Daniel’s side sat a woman whom Jake didn’t like. The brunette, Lauren, was self-interested, had a vicious streak, and had a bad habit of pretending to be generous and kind. Jake raised an eyebrow at Daniel, who generally didn’t like her. Dan rolled his eyes because the gold-digging woman couldn’t see him. Jake chose to drop it; exhaustion prevented him from caring about how the night led to her sitting with Dan.
“It’s good to see you, Jake. We don’t get to see you that often.” Dan seemed surprised to see Jake. From Dan’s expression, he was grateful to have an excuse to ignore Lauren.
“Working eighty to one hundred hours per week makes for a shitty social life, but I decided to come in and relax for a bit.” Jake leaned forward in an attempt to stay awake.
The third man seated with the group was Vadim Kuznetsov. The older man was in his late fifties and served as a mentor figure to the group. Vadim performed as an actor in Odessa in the former Soviet Union before coming to the US. His wife, Ksenia, sat next to him. She was an IT specialist at a local server farm. The two were one of the happiest couples Jake had ever met. Vadim’s ownership attracted many Russian and Eastern European club members. He always had an aura of calm and control. With slightly graying black hair, deep brown eyes, and an aquiline nose, Vadim appeared more Roman than Russian. Ksenia’s timeless beauty only enhanced her kind disposition. Unlike Lauren, she wasn’t vain or self-conscious, so she relied only on her natural beauty, allowing her blonde hair to gray slightly. Ksenia surrounded all her friends with a mother’s affection. Those lucky enough to get to know the couple intimately couldn’t help but love them. Jake’s parents loved him but were too busy with their pharmaceutical research to give him their undivided attention and often seemed detached. When Jake visited the Kuznetsovs in a private setting, they focused solely on those with them and nothing else.
“So, how are you all doing?” Jake sat back feeling more like falling asleep than enjoying the company of his friends.
Stefan assessed him. “You’re exhausted. Is the hospital pushing you with longer hours again?”
“One of the attending surgeons is out with a broken wrist, so the senior residents are picking up the slack. None of us have had a full night’s sleep in two weeks. I’m just grateful I only have ten more months of this before I finish the program.” Jake involuntarily yawned. “I hoped to hang out with all of you, but apparently I chose poorly.” Jake ignored Omiel’s I told you so look.
Ksenia expressed concern and glanced to Vadim and then to Jake. “Are you going to be safe to drive home?”
“I think I can make it home; after four and a half years, I’m used to dragging my ass home and passing out in bed.”
Stefan’s jaw set with determination. “I’ll drive you home tonight. You can take a rideshare in the morning to collect your car. Drowsy driving is just as bad as drunk driving, and I’m not ready to lose a friend due to his own stubbornness. Or Dan can follow us in your car, and Dan’s bodyguards can bring him back. This isn’t a request; you have two options.”
Jake ground his teeth; a battle of wills with Stefan most often ended in defeat. His deployments in Afghanistan forged him into someone as stubborn as one could get. He often said his stubbornness was born out of his Eastern European heritage. He often used the Pittsburgh slang that labeled individuals with Eastern European blood as Hunkies. Stefan’s mother had been Russian American, and his father Ukrainian. Still, Stefan was born and raised in Western Pennsylvania near Pittsburgh with a thick regional accent occasionally creeping into his speech. His father, mother, and sister were dead; the latter two died in an accident when he was a kid and the father succumbed to lung cancer while Stefan fought in Afghanistan. Jake thought the combination of deployments and the tragedy that robbed him of his mother and sister shaped the overprotectiveness for those Stefan cared about.
“All right, I’ll take the second option only because you’ll be assholes about it.”
“I have no problem doing this for you,” Dan reassured him.
Ksenia smiled softly at each of them. “Thank you. You all know how worried I get.”
“Thank you, Mama,” Jake affectionately replied to Ksenia.
Jake felt burnt out, and being honest with himself, admitted Stefan and Ksenia were correct. The stress of the long hours and learning the complex, high-speed craft of trauma surgery caused more than one resident to quit over the years. Most days, Jake slept no more than six hours. He probably shouldn’t have driven to the club but instead gone straight home. Jake needed a break, but as a senior surgical resident, it wasn’t possible. After he finished and passed his board certification, Jake would take an extended vacation to some tropical destination.
Putting in long hours for the last four and a half years had taken its toll on him. Jake loathed going home to an empty townhouse. He attempted to have a few relationships over the previous thirteen years of college, medical school, and residency, but they inevitably ended because of his work schedule. Jake was jealous of the relationship Vadim and Ksenia had. Amber and Victoria also made for a perfect match; they were in love and committed to each other. Jake realized he craved a stable relationship with a wonderful woman who would love him the way Ksenia loved Vadim. Only Stefan could come close to understanding his desires due to traveling out of the country too often to have a serious relationship.
In his exhaustion, Jake glanced around the room and focused. The Shepherds came and went while checking on their charges. Currently, only Stefan’s, Dan’s, and his were present. It concerned him that Stefan’s Shepherd stuck close these days. It could be nothing, or it could mean his friend was in danger. One of the most observant people he knew, Stefan squinted at him then peered over his shoulder to see what Jake was looking at.
“Jake, are you seeing ghosts?” Stefan narrowed his eyes.
Jake cursed at himself for getting caught looking at his Shepherd. “No, just thinking that I need a strong drink on a white sand beach.” He stifled a yawn.
Dan leaned against the arm of the couch. “When you finish your fellowship and pass your boards, we all need to take a trip. Hopefully, you’ll be able to relax some when we go to Vermont this winter. It’s not a beach, but it’s peaceful up there. If you’re insistent on tropical after residency, I’ll pay for it. You know I’m always searching for an excuse to get away.”
“That would be appreciated; I’ll promise to lose the argument on costs.” Jake yawned again. “I think I need to get going. Are you sure you two are willing to leave? I wouldn’t want to interrupt your night. I can call an Uber.”
Dan and Stefan both stood up, and Stefan shrugged. “I was ready to go anyway.” Stefan bent over and hugged Amber. “Tell Vicky to call me tomorrow.”
“I will.” Amber hugged him back.
Stefan headed for the entrance. Dan looked down at Lauren. “Good night, Lauren.” Daniel paid her no further notice and waited for Jake to leave. Lauren glared, displeased at being left alone.
With his body feeling like it weighed a million pounds, Jake pulled himself out of his chair and nodded to Vadim and Ksenia. “I’ll see you both next Sunday.”
Vadim inclined his head. “Get some rest. We’ll talk then.”
Ksenia stood and hugged him. “Try to get some sleep.”
He hugged her back and kissed the top of her head. “Thank you, Ksenia. I’ll try.”
Jake headed for the door and tossed his Cadillac keys to Daniel as they got to the parking lot and strode to Stefan’s truck. The man drove a black Ford F-150 Raptor and parked next to Daniel’s Aston Martin Vanquish. Stefan hated small vehicles; he claimed it was from his time operating heavy military equipment. Jake noted that Daniel’s bodyguards were nearby in a black Range Rover. Sometimes his friend needed space and drove to the club by himself but he was always followed by his bodyguards.
“So, you going to tell me what you saw back there? You weren’t just thinking; your eyes were focused on something.” Stefan gave Jake a pointed look as he pulled out of the parking lot. Jake got annoyed at the former sergeant ordering him around, but he was too tired to argue.
“Don’t be an asshole. Drop it.” Jake wasn’t ready to open up to anyone. He knew that would only invite them to label him as a lunatic.
“Listen, I’m not trying to be a dick. I’ve seen you staring occasionally, and I wish you’d trust me. I’m concerned, that’s all. I wish you would trust us. I consider you and Dan to be my family. After my dad died, the only family I had was Dan. Thanks to H&D and Vadim, I actually have a chosen family for the first time in my life.”
Jake considered telling his brother everything. He decided against it, but then Omiel spoke. “Trust him. His destiny is bound with yours.”
Jake’s Shepherd didn’t often encourage to him to open up, so he knew he should listen. He took a deep breath. “Do you believe in God?”
“I’m an Orthodox Christian, but I don’t attend church anymore. Not since I was a kid. My father wasn’t religious, so after my mom died, I never went back. But, yeah, I believe in God. I’m just not one to get hung up on old men’s interpretations of texts written before humanity realized the planet revolved around the Sun.” Stefan touched the small, gold, three-barred cross he wore around his neck that Jake knew had belonged to his sister.
“But the other stuff?”
“What other stuff? Like angels, demons, and miracles? Ironically, I do.” Stefan turned onto the George Washington Parkway and checked in his rearview mirror. “I’ve seen shit in my life that tells me there are things out there that can’t be explained. My dad would’ve said they were just coincidences, but I know they weren’t. I’ve never directly seen anything, though.”
Jake mulled over his problem and decided he needed to trust someone, and he was just exhausted enough to crack. “I’ve seen things for as long as I can remember.”
Stefan looked over at him but didn’t scoff or react negatively. “Seen things? Like what kind of things?”
Jake toyed with how to phrase this to Stefan. “Things most people can’t.”
“You’re going to have to explain this better.” Stefan briefly glanced over before returning his eyes to the road.
“They are beings who are mostly light. One might call them angels, but they call themselves the Shepherds.” Jake rubbed his eyes. “Most of the time, I don’t see them all the time. I either need to focus, or if I’m exhausted, I’ll catch glimpses of them when I don’t want to.”
Stefan swerved almost imperceptibly, and his face blanked for a moment. “Shepherds? Like, golden beings of light who follow everyone around?”
Stefan’s reaction immediately made Jake sit up straighter in his seat. “Exactly; how do you know that?”
Stefan’s jaw twitched. “When I was a kid, I knew a girl who saw creatures she called Shepherds. Everyone thought they were her imaginary friends. When I was eleven and she was eight, she survived an event that killed a lot of people, and she claimed the Shepherds had saved her. People didn’t believe her, but I knew her well enough to know she never lied. Never. She would refuse to answer you, but she never lied. I believed her. I’m not sure what became of her, but I haven’t seen her since about a month after the event. This happened about fifteen years ago.”
Jake stared at him. “You’re serious. Where did this happen? Pittsburgh? What is her name? Maybe I could look her up.”
“Uh, no, and I have a hard time talking about it with anyone. I’m sorry. Fuck, I wish I could talk to you about it.” Stefan seemed genuinely upset, and Jake wanted to press him, but they pulled into his neighborhood and approached his townhome. “Look, let me see if I can get permission to talk to you about it. There are extenuating circumstances that prevent me from telling you the whole story tonight. Right now, it could cause a shitstorm if I divulged any more than that. But I believe you.” Stefan parked in Jake’s driveway. He turned in his seat and put a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “You can talk to me if you need to, no judgments.”
Jake sat stunned at the sudden revelation, but Dan had pulled up alongside them, hit Jake’s garage door opener, and pulled into his garage. “I need to know more, but Dan is here, so I’ll let this drop for now. Let’s talk in a couple of days. I have Sunday and Monday off; will you be stateside?”
“I’m not scheduled to be out of the country, but as you know, I get last-minute calls hours before I need to leave. Let’s grab a coffee on Monday.”
“Okay, that sounds good.”
“Now, get your ass upstairs and get to sleep. Try to turn off that brain of yours. It won’t help your patients if you collapse mid-surgery.”
Jake snorted. “Yeah, tell me about it. I have nightmares about losing my grip on the retractor.” Jake exited the truck and shook Dan’s hand after he handed his keys over.
“I’m sure the old baba Stefan Chernenko has already ordered you to bed so that I won’t dogpile on the dictate. Text me later in the week.”
“When I get a chance, I will.” He clapped Dan on the back. “Thanks.” Dan nodded in acknowledgment and headed to the Range Rover driven by his bodyguards.
Jake started into his garage and turned to see Stefan rest his head on the back of the seat. Stefan’s emotional mask slipped. He observed the struggle going on in Stefan’s head. Jake recognized his friend struggled with severe PTSD, and they needed to talk about that soon. His behavior and comments recently had Jake worried. Stefan occasionally mentioned not being around but played it off that his job came with dangers. If something didn’t change, Jake feared he might lose his friend. The rate that veterans committed suicide was a grim statistic. He’d treated several in the last few years, and he hoped his friend wouldn’t become a part of that statistic. He raised his hand to Stefan as the man sat forward to put his truck in gear and pull out. Stefan waved in return and left.
Omiel followed Jake inside the house. “Your coterie is coming together. As you come across others, you need to be prepared to give them the gift of your talents and leadership. Your strength will be in your unfailing determination to save lives. The King is a Companion and a warrior, but more importantly, his connections will provide more warriors who will not know the truth and yet aid in your success. He is your equal in leadership. Your Companion will inspire confidence and operate when others are distracted by the world. She is unique as a Companion due to her relationship with a former Stolen.”
“Former Stolen?” Jake never considered his predecessors when talking with Omiel. “Who are the others?”
“The Queen will be given revelations; listen to her counsel. Her powers are the greatest, and her trials the hardest. The Knight will be a master of the machines of man, and Rook will fight at the side of the King by walking in the darkness where the King cannot tread.”
“King, Queen, Knight, and Rook? What am I?”
“You are the Physician. The four you inquire about are bound together in a bond that goes beyond the coterie.”
“If Stefan is the King, I’m assuming his friend must be the Queen. Surviving tragedy would bind them. So, I guess the other two are connected somehow?”
“That is correct. Now, allow me to tell you about the others. The Scion will open the doors needed to pass without struggle, and his Stolen, the Comforter, will be the calm in the storm. She will have the power to influence emotions. The Philosopher may save the minds of the Stolen, freeing them from the past trauma, and his Companion will bring with her knowledge of the universe. The Philosopher wavers and soon you will be called upon to reclaim him.”
“Reclaim him?” Jake didn’t like the sound of that.
“Soon, you will understand. There are others, but these are the ones nearest to you in proximity and promise. Be warned, Jacob, son of Isaak, some must walk their paths without interference while others may require your intervention.”
Jake walked into his bedroom and dug out a pair of sleep pants. “It would be so much easier if you just gave me real names and locations. Why are you so vague?”
“I do not want to be vague. I have rules that bind me. The Shepherds bend the rules, but we do not break them except when we steal one of you from Azrael, or the Angel of Death as he is known. If we told you everything that we know, it would take away free will. Besides, we do not know everything. Each of us has a small piece of the puzzle. Only the Queen’s Shepherd can see the future for your coterie, and then, only possibilities.”
“Well, that’s annoying.” Jake grabbed his sleep pants from his dresser.
“Sleep now, you need your rest.”Omiel floated away to give Jake privacy. Jake knew that meant the conversation was over for the night. He needed more information from Stefan and soon.
Yael
August 21
Yael Taube pulled open the door of her new dormitory at American University and looked down the busy hall full of returning juniors. She dodged parents and students alike as she made her way to her dorm. Yael greeted a few familiar faces and smiled at the brightly colored welcome banners. She hoped her new roommate wasn’t a bitch like her sophomore roommate. Last year had been a nightmare, and Yael didn’t want a repeat. It was one thing to be messy, but that girl was a slob and a walking disaster. Her boy-crazy roommate would bring losers to the room, and never cleaned her half.
Standing at five-foot-four with long brown hair and brown eyes, Yael considered herself curvy, but fit. She took pride in her appearance and often shopped at consignment shops, where she found deals on designer clothes normally out of her budget. Yael always endeavored to dress stylishly but kept her makeup subtle. She knew someday it would be part of her professional life, but she didn’t kid herself; Yael always liked to look good.
Two more years, and then she could consider a master’s program. Her future and her career were what she cared about the most. She wasn’t searching for a long-term relationship with someone her own age. Lovers her own age never interested Yael enough to date them more than a handful of times. She much preferred older men because they generally had themselves figured out and were on a stable path in life. She decided to hunt for a real relationship after she moved back to New York City or Israel with her family.
Yael approached her room and saw the door ajar, so her new roommate was already there. When she entered, Yael found a beautiful blonde unloading a box of clothes into a closet. A large plastic tote parked on the floor with a laptop bag sitting next to it containing part of her wardrobe. She was short, probably five-feet tall, if that, and she turned to Yael with a smile. Her striking emerald eyes were warm and expressive.
“Hi, I’m Tatiyanna Demczak, but you can call me Tatiya.” She had a faint accent, which was hard to place. It seemed to be some regional American accent. Tatiya offered her hand.
Yael shook it and returned the smile. The woman displayed a kind demeanor.
“Yael Taube. Nice to meet you, Tatiya.”
“I didn’t choose a bed yet.” She shrugged. “I thought I’d let you choose, but I wanted to start unpacking, so I took the closet and dresser near the door. I hope you don’t mind.” Tatiya motioned to the clothes in the closet, and Yael noticed among the shoes in the bottom were several pairs of ballet pointe shoes.
“You’re a dancer?” Yael asked. “That’s awesome, and I don’t mind at all.”
Tatiya beamed. “Yeah, I’m in the dance program. What’s your major?”
“Psychology.” Yael set her box down. “I’ll take the bed by the window. I like to have a lot of light when I’m studying.”
“Sure, I have no problem with that. The window bunks are often drafty, and I don’t like being cold.” Tatiya picked up a pretty red blouse and hung it up. “Did you get the letter about my seizures?”
“I did. I hope you don’t mind me being nosy,” Yael confirmed. “How often do you have them?”
“Not very often. My doctors are trying to find a different medication that’ll work better, but that means a bit of trial and error. I’ve had them since I was a kid. I had brain cancer, but I’ve been in remission for years now.”
“I’m sorry to hear about the cancer. That sucks. I’m glad you’re better.” Yael wished she could say more, but what do you say to someone who survived brain cancer? “Well, I don’t mind. Campus housing said they’ve never had any complaints. So, we’re golden. My roommate last year was a nightmare, messy and rude. I’m not high maintenance, but I really would like to get to my bed without tripping over all sorts of things.” Yael loved helping people; that’s why she wanted to be a therapist. Helping out Tatiya would just be second nature.
Tatiya returned to her clothes. “And no worries on that front; I’ve lived with my great aunt since I was fourteen. I think only the military has stricter standards for keeping one’s room clean. Also, given the seizures, the floor needs to be clear for my safety, and I’m pretty quiet.” Tatiya moved a couple of totes and shifted nervously as she searched in one of them. “Would you be upset if I hung a cross above my bed with an icon of the Virgin Mary? If it bothers you, I’ll keep them elsewhere. They are part of my faith and culture.”
Yael hoped her new roomie lacked the judgmentalism of some religious people, but she did not get that vibe from Tatiya. Instead, she seemed almost embarrassed by the request. “No, it doesn’t bother me. I’m not particularly religious, but I believe it’s important to respect others. During the Holocaust, my grandmother survived a massacre that killed the rest of our family. They suffered because of the intolerance of others. It’s great that you are so connected to your culture.”
Tatiya grew serious. “Thanks. I assume that means you’re Jewish?”
“Yep, loud and proud,” Yael answered without hesitation.
“That’s wonderful. Do you have a boyfriend?” Tatiya asked curiously.
“No, not right now,” Yael replied with a shake of her head. “Do you?”
“Nah, I don’t date right now.” Tatiya sighed. “But here’s to the single life.” She lifted a coffee mug out of her tote and playfully toasted Yael.
“To the single life.” Yael pretended to lift a glass and then giggled. “Hey, my friend Rebekkah will be here any minute to help me move boxes. You’ll love her. We’ve been friends for two years and I adore her.”
“That’s great. I’d love to meet her. I’ll be right here unpacking.” Tatiya radiated excitement. When she returned to unpacking, Tatiya hummed a little tune and peace surrounded her.
Yael was more optimistic about Tatiya and the year to come. She seemed lovely, and Yael felt terrible her new roomie suffered from health issues, but she seemed fun.
Yael arrived at her silver Chevrolet Malibu just as Rebekkah parked next to her. “Hey, Rebekkah, right on time.”
Rebekkah pursed her lips in playful sarcasm. “You are the only one who’s habitually late. How’s the new roomie?”
“Tatiya seems great. I’m sure I’ll like her.” Yael pulled a box out of her trunk. “Help me get my stuff upstairs and then we’ll order pizza.”
“Deal. I’m already starving. If the roommate doesn’t mind, let’s put on some ridiculous rom-com.” Rebekkah grabbed two tote bags from the back seat. One contained her bedding and the other extra pillows.
“I’m game.” Yael led her upstairs as they chatted about weekend plans. It was good to have a friend like Rebekkah.
Jacob
August 21
Late Monday morning of the following week, Jake entered a coffee shop in Dupont Circle. Nestled on the ground floor of an office building, Kasatschok Café became a local favorite. Stefan lived nearby the café and sat in the corner of the nearly empty establishment staring at his phone. Jake waved to him and headed to the counter to put in his order and grab a pastry. After paying, he headed over and sat down, waiting for his caffè mocha to be finished.
Stefan wore a short-sleeve shirt due to the August heat. The sleeve showed the bottom half of his bicep and shoulder tattoo. Having seen the full tattoo, Jake knew the top part held a compass with the nation of Afghanistan on the face and under the compass was a King chess piece surrounded by fallen black pawns and a spider crawling down the King piece. At the bottom of the piece were some words in Russian that Stefan told him meant “to the enemy.” Jake often wondered about the symbolism of each element.
“Morning. Sorry I’m a little late. I ran into some construction getting here.”
“No worries. I caught up on some news while I waited. I knew you weren’t flaking on me.” Stefan put his phone facedown on the table. “You look a little more rested.”
Jake sighed in relief. “I got a full night’s sleep last night. That helped. When are you heading out again?”
“It appears I’ll be heading out on Wednesday, and I’m not sure when I’ll get back.” Stefan’s gaze darkened, but he caught himself and wiped the irritation from his face. “It’s an open-ended assignment.” When Stefan was around strangers, his mask never slipped. But when he was around Jake and Dan, his guard occasionally dropped, just like when he opened up about his friend.
“Please stay safe. We all worry when you disappear on these assignments. We would worry less if you were active military, but your job is just something we don’t understand well enough.”
Stefan’s eyes held no smile when he answered. “Private security contractors mostly guard facilities or act as additional security for morons who need to go into dangerous areas. Most of the time it’s boring as fuck, but occasionally it requires all my experience to keep my assignments safe.”
Jake didn’t like the answer any better. “Okay, okay. The sentiment still stands: we worry.”
The café owner brought over his mocha then left, and Jake sipped it while he picked at his pastry. “So, did you get permission from whoever needed to give it?”
Stefan looked down at his coffee and took a deep breath. “I decided not to ask. It’s better to ask forgiveness than permission. But, since you trusted me, I need to trust you.” Stefan lowered his voice and scanned the room. There were no other patrons and the owner returned to the back. “Okay, so…” He exhaled and gazed out the window a moment as if to gather courage.
The action concerned Jake. “Stefan, you can trust me, and I won’t judge you.”
“Well, you don’t understand what the consequences could be for me. I must be vague, and you can’t tell Dan or anyone else. No one else can know. Do you understand me? No one. I can’t tell you anything about myself beyond what I disclose today. My father did something and I’m still dealing with the consequences.”
