The Devil Sheds A Tear (The Seattle Coven Tales Book 2)

Evil Never Forgets: Book Two of the Seattle Coven Tales

After months in hiding, Steven Metcalf is forced back into a world he barely survived. Discovered by the same coven that nearly killed him, he escapes once more—but this time, they're after more than just him. His infant son is now the target of an ancient ritual, and the clock is ticking.

To protect his child, Steven joins forces with Hu Li, a relentless witch hunter with her own haunted past. Together, they plunge into the dark underbelly of modern witchcraft, where every ally hides a motive and every step forward could be their last.

The Devil Sheds a Tear is a chilling supernatural thriller that raises the stakes in Robert Herold’s award-winning Seattle Coven Tales series.

Available now — continue the series and uncover the secrets the coven will kill to protect.

Excerpt from the book

Friday, November 13th, 2015

Halfway through translating a chapter on demons, I saw the library door open, and Brother Jordan poked his head into the room. “You have two visitors.”

I sat back in the chair, surprised. “Who?”

“Brothers Morrison and Lane from the Benedictine monastery on Orcas Island. They said it’s important.”

What could it be? How did they know where to find me? Were monks gossips? I recalled the World War Two slogan, “Loose lips sink ships.” Then I reminded myself of the date—Friday the 13th. I was free of the curse. Time I started acting like it. “Thank you, Brother. Please show them in.”

Patty Allen, the old medium who lost her life trying to help me, stated I would be in peril until the following Friday, the 13th. That day finally arrived. The Seattle coven of witches intended to kill me as part of a ritual to restore youth and bring wealth and power to its members, but they needed to do so before today. I eluded them by hiding in the St. Francis Monastery outside Yakima, Washington. Giddy with relief and the joy of being alive, I took the opportunity that morning to post about it on my Steven Metcalf (my real name) Facebook page. I glanced at the photos on the site—me grinning in Red Square when I arrived at the University of Washington, hanging out with other grad students at a local pub, pictures of friends and family. My former life.

Using social media in the Witness Protection Program was verboten, but I took care. I didn’t reveal my location or the real reason for my absence, but I did apologize to family and friends for “going dead” for many months and said I would soon be among the living.

During my stay at the monastery, I did my best to help the brothers as much as possible, working in their orchards and assisting in producing their juice, apple butter, pies, and renowned hard cider. I never left the monastery grounds, where most monks were cloistered. Only the abbot knew the real reason for my being here. Since I wasn’t a member of this order, the abbot gave me leave to spend my non-working time in the monastery’s excellent library, which contained a surprising number of liberal titles, such as Ulysses and Sons and Lovers.

I didn’t know when I’d be leaving the monastery. Participating in the Witness Protection Program was something I owed to Detective Hunter, formerly of the Seattle Police Department, now deceased—another person who lost his life on my behalf. And I owed it to him to wait until they gave me the green light. Moreover, I had come to appreciate life in the monastery.

In addition, I wanted to complete a translation of a truly significant find: the library contained a dusty, leather-bound copy of Friar Anton Liguerre’s The Devil’s Legions, a fantastic compendium in Latin of the supernatural and ways to defeat it. No one seemed to know how this 16th-century tome ended up in a Yakima monastery. Abbot Rodale permitted me to copy it by hand (the abbot, it seems, is a traditionalist). Instead, I’ve been putting my translation into their old desktop computer and backing it up on two thumb drives and the cloud.