Forgiven Read online

  Table of Contents

  PRAISE FOR FORGIVEN

  FORGIVEN

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  ALSO BY GINA DETWILER

  Part One: Black Holes and Revelations

  1: Going to Mars

  2: Where We Come Alive

  3: God Only Knows

  4: Poison in the Water

  5: Play With Fire

  6: Dangerous Game

  Part Two: Origin of Symmetry

  7: New Born

  8: A Beginner’s Guide to Destroying the Moon

  9: Who Will Save You

  10: Hard Love

  11: Control

  12: Rescue Me

  13: Spiritual War

  14: Demon in Profile

  15: Unstoppable

  16: Don’t Dream It’s Over

  Part Three: Simulation Theory

  17: Feeling Good

  18: Clearly

  19: On Fire

  20: Giant

  21: Houdini

  22: A Demon’s Fate

  23: Gold Plated Lie

  24: After You

  25: Conversations

  26: Figure it Out

  27: Smoke and Mirrors

  Part Four: The Second Law

  28: Human

  29: Starlight

  30: War of Hearts

  31: Great Wide Open

  32: Breaking Through

  33: Everywhere I Go

  34: Battlefield

  35: Knights of Cydonia

  36: Game of Survival

  37: Lion

  Part Five: Absolution

  38: Pressure

  39: Miracle

  40: Start Again

  41: Fighting Furies

  42: Get Up and Fight

  43: Brave

  44: Us

  45: Forever On Your Side

  46: Shadows

  47: Bad Dreams

  48: Courage

  Part Six: Drones

  49: Algorithm

  50: Castle

  51: Mercy

  52: Awaken

  53: The Fire Remains

  54: Carry You

  55: The Light

  56: Descent

  THE PLAYLIST

  SPECIAL THANKS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  TRADEMARK ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Dear Reader

  Plan Your Next Escape! What’s Your Reading Pleasure?

  PRAISE FOR FORGIVEN

  Gina Detwiler has again pulled her readers into her great series about a hundreds of years old Nephilim teenage boy, and the constant battle between good and evil that rages around and in him. Forlorn and Forsaken were awesome reads, but the author cranks it up in Forgiven. The suspense of what Jared and his friends are going to face brings a constant mix of excitement and dread. The book does not disappoint, and was as hard to put down as the two previous books. Forgiven has Tower of Babylon type moments as man shows there is no depth he won't go to as he strives to make God irrelevant. In Forsaken, the battle for Jared is ramped up, and it is again shown that no one is ever truly forsaken by God, and forgiveness is always possible. Forgiven pulled me in so well, that I reached the last page and was surprised when there were no others to follow. Forsaken and the other two books in the series are an excellent, Christian, and wholesome substitute to the vampire books that are so popular among teenagers today.

  —Mark Buzard, Blogger, Thoughts of a Sojourner

  Grace Fortune is back, and she and Jared are up to their necks in angels, antichrists, and a billionaire playing God. Throw in a marriage made in Heaven and a weapon powerful enough to open the Gates of Hell, and the third book in the Forlorn Series reaches apocalyptic magnificence. The pace is blinding, the twists are magnificent, and the ending…WOW! Never saw that coming. Who but Detwiler could blend Faith, Science, and Romance so perfectly? There is no justice in the world if Forgiven doesn’t become an instant bestseller!

  —D.L. Rosensteel, Author of Ionic Attractions and the Psi Fighter Academy Series

  FORGIVEN

  Forlorn Series

  Book III

  Gina Detwiler

  Vinspire Publishing

  www.vinspirepublishing.com

  Copyright ©2019 Gina Detwiler

  Cover illustration copyright © 2019 Elaina Lee/For the Muse Designs

  Formatted by Woven Red Author Services, www.WovenRed.ca

  First Edition

  Printed and bound in the United States of America. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system-except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine, newspaper, or on the Web-without permission in writing from the publisher. For information, please contact Vinspire Publishing, LLC, P.O. Box 1165, Ladson, SC 29456-1165.

  All characters in this work are purely fictional and have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  ISBN print book: 978-1-7327112-7-3

  Published by Vinspire Publishing, LLC

  For my daughters, Dani, Nikki and Sami

  May angels always watch over you.

  Then they said, “Come, let us build ourselves a city and a tower with its top in the heavens, and let us make a name for ourselves, lest we be dispersed over the face of the whole earth.” Genesis 11:4 (ESV)

  ALSO BY GINA DETWILER

  Forlorn

  Forsaken

  WRITING WITH PRISCILLA SHIRER:

  The Prince Warriors

  The Prince Warriors and the Unseen Invasion

  The Prince Warriors and the Swords of Rhema

  The Winter War, a Prince Warriors sequel

  Part One

  Black Holes and Revelations

  1: Going to Mars

  Angel

  I might be in trouble again.

  I am summoned to the Assembly of the Seven. They gather at the top of a tall mountain, surrounded by seven more mountains and blanketed by clouds. They wear armor unique to their dominions in service to the High Lord, Elohim. I wonder at this earthly setting, at their human shapes formed of Light, at their blazing swords and shining armor.

  This can mean only one thing.

  War.

  In their presence, I am no more significant than a grasshopper in the company of eagles. I am a Guardian, the protector of a girl named Grace Fortune. No doubt, this is why I have been summoned. Grace has come to the attention of the Seven before, along with her friend Jared, who happens to be a Nephilim. Yet, after years of grappling with their many enemies, they have retreated from the battlefield, content in their love, their families, and their newfound peace. Their band, Forlorn, no longer makes public appearances. They still play their music, and they write and sell songs through a publisher who keeps their identities a secret. They are happy to be out of the spotlight, away from the world’s madness. I have enjoyed the respite.

  I bow before Gabriel, the revealer, usually the one to speak. Michael, the protector, glowers at me with withering disapproval, as usual. Uriel, the destroyer, stands in fierce silence. Raphael, the healer, is the only one to convey any hint of empathy. The last three—Saraquel, Remiel, and Raquel—remain ever quiet, although I believe they communicate with each other in sendings I do not hear.

  “Guardian,” Gabriel says. “Something is happening that concerns your charge.”

  Surprising. Grace’s world is now very small. But the archangels are members of the Council—they stand before th
e Throne. They know things I cannot.

  “Has she done something wrong?” I ask.

  “Not yet,” Michael grumbles. “Although I’m sure it is only a matter of time.”

  Gabriel throws him a warning glance. “It will be better to show you. Uriel will take you. It is important that you understand. For Grace’s sake. And…the boy’s as well.”

  The boy. They once referred to Jared as “the creature.” At least they acknowledge his humanness now.

  “Go now,” says Gabriel.

  Uriel’s hand touches my shoulder and my Light flows into his. I find myself on earth under a cloudless sky. Before me is an enormous dome made of brown wooden slats, tilted like a globe. Situated in a green space, the structure is surrounded by low, nondescript buildings against a backdrop of sleepy, white-capped mountains.

  “What is this place?” I ask.

  “This is CERN.” Uriel’s voice rumbles like thunder. “A global center for nuclear research. It contains the largest particle collider in the world, seventeen miles in circumference.”

  “What is it for?”

  “For men to discover the secrets of the universe.” Uriel lets out a sigh like a north wind.

  “They spend billions smashing particles while children starve and wars rage on.”

  “Don’t they know how the universe began?”

  “They reject the words of Elohim. They seek their own explanation.”

  Uriel takes me inside the globe, where giant video screens surround large white resin balls suspended in a sea of midnight-blue, meant to represent particles in an atom. We slip through the blackened ceiling to a space above, a lecture hall under the arched dome. People in white coats with name badges gaze in rapt attention at a man standing on the platform. He is tall and lank, with thinning dark hair, pale eyes, and protruding ears. His arms and legs are unusually long and his shoulders broad, making him appear out of proportion to himself. He speaks with an air of humor and humility.

  “Thank you for inviting me,” he says to the crowd. “Wow, this place is truly amazing. It has always been my dream to be a part of what you folks are doing here. Until now, my interest has been in outer space, searching for new worlds to conquer. But lately, I have come to realize that the true frontier, the one yet to be explored, is right here in the subatomic world. To discover what we are truly made of and what we can become. To discover, in effect, our past, which will lead to our destiny.”

  The crowd applauds. A lone whistle shrills through the room.

  “This is where the whole world comes together.” The speaker gains momentum. “Twenty-two nations united for a single purpose—to advance the cause of science in our world. To create a global society, a global order, to meet the needs of future generations. And I want to be a part of that. We will do great things together. You and I both know that the LHC is in need of a major upgrade. It must be bigger and run at higher energies in order to reveal the secrets of the atom—secrets we must learn in order to move forward. That’s why I’m here. And that’s what I’m going to do.”

  The room erupts in riotous applause.

  “Who is that man?” I ask.

  “His name is Darwin Speer.”

  I have heard the name before.

  ***

  Time moves backward into night. We hover above the courtyard of the CERN campus. In the center of the courtyard, an enormous statue of the Hindu god Shiva performs the dance of destruction inside a ring of fire.

  “They pray to Shiva now?”

  “They don’t pray. But this god is their symbol for what they want to achieve.”

  “Which is?”

  “Creation. And destruction.”

  Spotlights shine on Shiva from different angles, casting huge shadows on the surrounding buildings. Dark Ones dance in the shadows—they glom together, form a ring around the statue which comes to life…its fires flicker, its arms and legs take up the dance.

  A line of black-robed figures parades through the curtain of Dark, their shadows long against the hovering buildings so they seem like giants. They circle the statue in tightly choreographed procession. Suddenly they stop and face the dancing statue, raising their arms in worship. They begin to chant, droning in an ancient, unknown language.

  One of the worshippers steps out of line and approaches Shiva. Three others follow—they remove the first one’s robe to reveal a woman with blonde hair dressed in a long white gown. As the chanting intensifies, she lies on the ground and Shiva dances in a frenzy around her still form. A black-robed priest raises his hand and a knife flashes in the spotlight. He bends over the woman and stabs her through the heart.

  It is day again. The courtyard is empty.

  “Was that real?” I ask.

  “It does not matter. What matters is that it was done. This is war, Guardian. The Dark Prince stands ready. It is only a matter of time.”

  2: Where We Come Alive

  Grace

  It’s weird, being back in New York. I didn’t want to come, but I also didn’t want to disappoint Ethan. His video game, The Wrath of the Watchers, is being launched at GAME-ON, the biggest video game convention on the planet—or so he says. And since our quest to kill a Watcher was the inspiration for the game in the first place, Jared and I decided we had to be there.

  We drove to New York in the “new” PsychoVan, Ralph’s latest customized Chevy that might be a decade or two newer than the last one. It’s been a long time since Ralph let us go to such a public event. Maybe he trusts us more now. Or maybe our enemies have moved on to easier prey.

  Ralph—always concerned about our safety—booked us rooms at a funky little hotel in the Meatpacking District, near where the convention is being held. Ralph is sort of Jared’s dad but not really. He knows the hotel owner, who promised to keep our presence a secret. That’s necessary because a lot of Forlorn/Jared Lorn nut jobs are still out there. There have been Grace Fortune and Jared Lorn sightings on every continent since the demise of Lester Crow and Blood Moon, except maybe Antarctica. But I’m sure that’s only a matter of time.

  The hotel is pretty bizarre. The furniture in the lobby is straight out of a turn-of-the-century brothel. A giant disco ball hangs from the ceiling. The bellhop wears a monkey hat like in the old movies, and the wooden calendar behind the counter reads “May 35.” The May part is right, anyway. We’re far enough away from my mother’s old stomping grounds on the Upper West Side that I feel relatively safe—even though my mother now lives on the West Coast with her mega-preacher husband Harry Ravel.

  The event is scheduled for tonight at six p.m. The guests are encouraged to dress as characters from their favorite video game. Jared and I will be disguised as Watchers.

  Go figure.

  Bree and Ethan were already checked in when we arrived this afternoon. It’s been months since I last saw my best friend, Bree. She transferred to Ithaca for her sophomore year. She said she did it because they offered a better program in Music Education, but I knew she wanted to be closer to Ethan, who attends Cornell. Those two are pretty serious about each other, despite the fact that they don’t seem to get along.

  We hugged a lot and caught up on each others’ lives. Bree has graduated from Disney princess to preppy college girl, and Ethan is no longer a high school dork with frizzy hair and coke-bottle glasses. His hair is short and a smudge on his chin threatens to become a beard. Compared to them, Jared and I haven’t changed at all. Except I’ve dyed my hair black, more for camouflage than anything else.

  “What’s with the hair?” Bree asked, staring at me. “It seriously doesn’t work with your complexion. Way too Goth.”

  “What color should I do?”

  “IDK. Pink? Blue might be nice.”

  “I like it.” Jared defended my choice.

  “You would, weirdo,” said Bree.

  I’ve missed her. And yet there is something strange between us too, a chasm too wide to cross. She’s moved on with her life, made new friends, had all kinds of new e
xperiences. I have stayed where I was. No college, no real job, other than writing music. No plans either. I worry we won’t have much to talk about, once the “catching up” part is over.

  We order up our favorites from room service—chicken nuggets and fries, salad for Bree—still a vegetarian—and a hamburger for Ethan. But he can’t eat, he’s so nervous about the launch.

  “They have this huge screen,” he says. “And they made this awesome trailer and there’s a band and everything. People from all over the country—the world—will be there. Every gaming professional. Journalists. Bloggers. Reviewers.” He puts both hands on top of his head. “What if it sucks?”

  “It doesn’t suck,” I say. “How could it? You’re a genius.”

  “I’m a fraud!” Ethan throws himself face-down on the couch.

  “Oh, for crying out loud.” Bree drops her French fry and goes to talk to him. I’ve never seen this side of Ethan before.

  “He’s having a nervous breakdown,” I say.

  “He’s always been wound a little tight.” Jared shakes his head and smiles.

  Once Ethan calms down, Bree and I go to our room to change into our costumes. Mine is classic Grim Reaper—a long black robe with a wide hood. Not terribly creative. Bree’ silky black gown with wide lace sleeves makes her look a little like a very pretty and fashionable Bride of Frankenstein.

  “This won’t fool anybody.” I stare at myself in the mirror. “Shouldn’t we have masks?”

  “Makeup is better. I found a great design, and I brought all the supplies.”

  “I’m not sure this is a good idea, wearing a demon costume. It seems like it would invite the wrong sort of spirits.”

  “Hiding in plain sight, remember? Your demon friends won’t be able to tell the difference between you and the rest of the crowd.”

  “Still…”

  “Relax, Grace. It’ll be fine. You should quit worrying about all that angel-demon stuff, anyway.”

  Quit worrying? Has she totally forgotten all that’s happened to us? Maybe she has. She lives in a different world now.