Angel of Death (Vengeful Spirits Book 1)

Book summary

In Angel of Death, Maya walks the eerie streets of Gideon’s Hollow on a cursed Friday the 13th, dismissing local superstitions about vengeful witches. But as shadows close in and danger becomes real, she finds herself battling both human and supernatural threats in a desperate fight for survival.

Excerpt from Angel of Death (Vengeful Spirits Book 1)

Chapter One

Maya Pendleton locked the door of Rowena’s Coffee, putting an end to a long and exhausting day. She’d finished the night shift after attending her botany classes at the local community college. She yawned as she zipped her keys into the side pocket of her backpack.

Her house was a thirteen-minute walk away. Not quite far enough to make it worthy of driving, yet far enough away to let her imagination run wild. No one else walked the streets of Gideon’s Hollow, Massachusetts, a sleepy little college town, especially the night of Friday the 13th. Only her own footsteps echoed off the sidewalk.

Some of the locals believed the witches that had been burned in nearby Salem roamed the area this time of year on Devil’s days like Friday the 13th and Halloween, looking to exact revenge on descendants of those who burned them at the stake.

Silly superstition.

Maya didn’t believe any of that nonsense, and she loved rather than feared Millie, her black cat, and the cute white tip on his nose.

A cold October breeze swirled dead leaves into the air from the gutter on Main Street, chilling her to the bone. She shivered and jammed her hands into the pockets of her black wool coat. She yearned for a hot bath after devouring whatever her mother had waiting for her in the microwave at home. Mom might not be a renowned chef, but in Maya’s eyes, she was the best cook in the world and her best friend. All they had was each other since her father had died of cancer three years earlier.

She increased her pace as she neared the end of Main Street and turned into the neighborhood she needed to cross to get to her own small house.

A few stray leaves flapped in the breeze on mostly naked maple trees on either side of the street. They would be dormant, unable to bear witness to anything happening around them until spring.

The rhythm of her footfalls no longer matched the sounds echoing off the pavement.

Another set of footsteps?

She stopped and spun around, scanning the nearby hedges, sidewalks, and driveways around the single-story homes lining the street.

No one.

Her spine tingled, and a hint of adrenaline broke through her exhaustion. Silence closed in around her once again. She resumed walking and accelerated her pace to a near jog, striding along the sidewalk.

Not much farther to go.

She rounded the next corner at the community mailboxes four blocks away from her house.

A tall shadow elongated on the pavement beside her.

She darted away as fingertips brushed the wool of her coat sleeve, then she broke into a run, screaming, “Help!”

Would anyone tucked inside their warm houses hear her scream?

Maya held down the buttons on her cell phone in her pocket to trigger voice controls. No! Her charger was at home and the phone battery had died hours ago. She glanced over her shoulder.

A man, double her size, with dark features, maybe inches away from her. He’d come into the coffee shop an hour before close and had bristled when she refused to go on a date with him.

She faced forward and ran faster. She didn’t dare tear her eyes away from the pavement. If she stumbled or tripped…

If she could just outrun him long enough to get home. She pushed her legs to their limits and pumped her arms to squeeze out as much speed as possible.

Her straps dug into her arms as he yanked on her backpack, dragging her backwards.

She slipped her arms out of the straps, and he stumbled back a few steps but didn’t fall.

Damn!

If he’d fallen, her chances of making it home would have increased exponentially.

Maya gulped air into her burning lungs and ran like her life depended on it. Her gut told her it did. This creep hadn’t gone to the trouble of following and chasing her for nothing.

She stole another peek over her shoulder. This time she’d managed a bigger lead. She turned back in time to see her foot colliding with a thick branch in the road. Her right foot went out, and she tried to compensate with her left. As her chaser’s running steps came closer, she stumbled almost in slow motion and her knees collided with the pavement.

Maya ignored the pain in her knees and scrambled to her feet. Her house with the green shutters and the spooky witch blowup decoration on the lawn was visible a few blocks ahead. The familiar and distinct unpleasantness of body odor crept into her nostrils as something hard connected with the back of her head.

Black spots danced in front of her eyes as she scrambled away from him on her hands and knees, then the world, and all her thoughts faded into darkness.

Chapter Two

Maya’s eyes fluttered open. Darkness closed in around her. The floor was moving beneath her, and a waft of exhaust fumes turned her stomach. That didn’t make sense. She shifted her head, and the world tilted as a sharp pain shot through her head, jogging her memory.

The creep from the coffee shop. What an ass!

She reached around the back of her head to assess the damage and her elbow hit something hard. Her funny bone tingled, then her heart pounded in her ears as the space closed in around her.

She rolled onto her back. A handle glowed above her head in the darkness. She stuck her hands out and moved them along a hard surface, and the horrid reality of her situation became clear.

Metal. He stuck me in the trunk of a car!

Panic scrambled any attempt at coherent thought, and she gasped for air. She forced deep breaths into her lungs, and her brain cleared.

The glowing handle. A trunk release.

She tugged on the release, and nothing happened. With the handle in her grasp, she pushed on the trunk with her feet at the same time. Nothing.

Her creepy captor must have anticipated that means of escape. Not escaping, giving up, and dying at age twenty wasn’t an option. Her mother must already be losing her mind with worry.

Now what?

Maya groped around in the darkness for her backpack. She found it near her feet and dragged it closer. What did she have in her bag that could be used as a weapon? A pen?

Dammit!

She should’ve listened to her mother’s suggestions to carry a panic alarm.

Hold on.

The jerk might have left her a weapon without realizing it. She ran her hands along the trunk floor, clasped the fabric's edge, and scooted backward to expose the cavity beneath.

She put her knee on the fabric she’d pulled back to keep it in place and ran her hands along the spare tire, a jack, and something more useful in her plighta tire iron. She yanked the tire iron out of the compartment and pushed the fabric back in place.

A wave of dizziness hit. She lay on her side in a fetal position with both hands wrapped around her weapon, as if it were a teddy bear, and waited for the dizzy spell to pass.

Ahead of her would be the backseats. Could she push her way through and clock him in the head? The car might crash, but what did she have to lose at this point? Only psychotic people locked someone in a trunk for refusing a date.

She braced her feet against the back of the trunk and pushed with every ounce of strength in her legs. The trunk wall didn’t give an inch. She could keep trying, but then she’d be expending all her energy and needed to save her strength to fight.

With the tire iron close, she pulled a protein bar and her water bottle out of her backpack. Her stomach churned from the motion and her head injury, but she hadn’t eaten since lunch. She choked the bar down, then took one deep drink of water and saved the rest. Who knew how far he intended to take her?

The car slowed, turned, then hit a bump.

Her backpack and the tire iron slipped away into the far corner. As she reached for the tire iron, the car dipped to the right, jostling her. She put her palms on the trunk floor to steady herself, then grabbed the tire iron.

The car stopped.

Maya scrambled onto her hands and knees, ending up in a half push-up from the lack of head space, and clutched the weapon.

Footsteps moved from the driver’s side of the car towards the trunk.

She forced the panic down, keeping her breaths slow. She held perfectly still. She wanted him to believe she was still unconscious to give her the element of surprise. With him being twice her size, she needed any advantage she could get.

The trunk lid lifted inch by inch.

The second she had enough head space, Maya squatted with the tire iron over her shoulder like a baseball bat.

The trunk raised the rest of the way, and she came face to face with her captor. She barely registered his dark hair and eyes as she swung at his head.

He ducked, then smirked. “You are a feisty…”

She swung the tire iron and planted it in his stomach, cutting him off mid-speech.

His face turned red, and he folded at the waist. “Oof.”

She leaped out of the trunk. The world tilted as she flew through the air, but she planted her feet and managed to stay upright with the tire iron firmly in her grasp.

He’d driven her along a dirt path into the middle of a dark, dense forest.

Tall trees surrounded her, including evergreens, able to provide some cover. With her balance questionable, she’d never be able to outrun him. She needed to hide. She fled into the nearest patch of forest.

The calm winds intensified, blowing hard at her back.

Branches snapped behind her, and the creep yelled, “I’m coming for you, bitch.”

Maya came upon a cluster of four evergreen trees growing so close together they were touching. She slipped between two trees. The opening was just wide enough for her face to escape injury. Branches rustled, snagging on her black coat. She gently bent them out of the way, so they wouldn’t make a loud snapping noise.

She kneeled in a tiny opening in the center of the four trees, sheltered from the worst of the wind. She pulled her black coat over her head, so what little moonlight seeped through wouldn’t shine off her pale skin and give her away.

She dared not move and prayed the howling of the wind covered what little sound she’d made climbing into the trees. Twigs snapped, and leaves rustled as footsteps moved closer and closer to her hiding spot.

She trembled and fought to keep her teeth from chattering as she awaited her fate. Would he pass her by? Or did she inadvertently leave a path to her hiding spot?