IT IS HALLOWEEN and the goal of Coven-999 is to initiate the apocalypse.
The nine witches have spent most of their lives preparing for this moment. Practicing the art of killing. Using and being used by demonic spiritual forces to leave an indelible, yet almost untraceable mark on the world. Refining gifts of speed, pain suppression and even the use of magnetism to their own advantages.
Samantha Robertson has also spent her life in preparation of a similar kind. Spiritual maturation and supernatural gifts, equal in caliber to that of a witch, yet purely Christian.
Detective Hunter is watching Sas to find out whether her dreams, visions and premonitions are heaven-sent or whether she herself is a satanic witch. After losing his first wife to the coven, he is surprised when he develops feelings for Sas and is genuinely afraid of losing her too. He must do whatever he can to protect this woman he’s falling in love with.
Set in the Australian Capital Territory (ACT) in 2012, this Christian supernatural thriller will have you questioning things you thought you knew about God and truth.
A gripping tale that expounds the history of the coven, the history of one special family, and the future of the entire world.
The author's unique understanding of the justice and grace of God.
This book is probably the most romantic of this 3-part series. The development of Sas and Hunter's relationship is exciting, annoying, and intriguing. It reveals their disturbing histories and individual personalities.
1
Hunter
Friday, March 23rd, 2012
3 Weeks before Black Friday
“Sas Robertson!”
Samantha’s blue eyes glanced up at the lecturer who had just called her name. He was holding her welcome-back-to-pure-mathematics quiz paper in his hand for her to collect. His name was Professor Ulrich—a German mathematical genius. He was short, but not as short as she was. Bald, except for two small patches above his ears that met at the nape of his neck. His eyes were fierce and there was something all too familiar about his moustache that, unfortunately, reminded her very much of Hitler. She was terrified of the man! Yet she knew that this was a rather racist way to view someone she did not know on a personal level—to stereotype him as a Nazi because of his heritage.
She stood and walked toward him, padding softly as though the floor were covered in eggshells, and prayed that this moment would pass quickly. Sas didn’t like standing up in front of the class and being the center of attention. She was a quiet achiever.
“And what, may I ask, does ‘Sass’ stand for?” the Professor asked impatiently, as though it were a silly name for her to write on her quiz.
“It’s short for Samantha,” she said barely above a whisper as she accepted the paper from his thick, sturdy fingers into her dainty hand.
“Then why didn’t you write the name Samantha on your paper?”
Professor Ulrich was speaking with his usual, slightly raised, lecturing tone, and Sas did not doubt that everyone in the room was listening to their conversation. She felt her cheeks coloring as she formulated an answer. “My dad nicknamed me Sas when I was two-months-old, and I’ve been called that ever since.”
The Professor did not look amused. He had a difficult time remembering names and nicknames—admittedly because he hadn’t yet grasped the Australian accent and use of colloquialism.
Sas took her paper and looked for the result in red pen on the front as she walked back toward her seat. 93%. Excellent! She was good at mathematics. Math and music. It could easily be argued that the subjects were related. The harmony a contralto voice sang to compliment a soprano melody, was most often a simple calculated fraction between three and five semitones below that melody. Intervals were measured in numbers: perfect fourth, minor third, major seventh, etc. Scales were based on a mathematical formula of tones and semitones. The relative minor scale began on the sixth note of the major scale. The order of sharps could be measured in perfect fifths along a piano keyboard: F#, C#, G#, D#, A#, E# and B#; and the order of flats in perfect fourths: Bb, Eb, Ab, Db, Gb, Cb, Fb.
Not to mention rhythm. The four-beat semibreve, divided by two, equalled the length of the two-beat minim. Hence why they were also called the whole note and the half note. Divide the half note by two for the length of a crotchet or quarter note; halve it again to determine the length of a quaver or eighth note. Then, just to confuse the younger music students, you could divide quavers in half several times to produce hemi-demi-semi-quavers which measured one sixteenth of the one-beat crotchet! So, in a bar of four crotchets (4/4 time), you could technically fit sixty-four hemi-demi-semi-quavers. It was mathematical.
That was exactly what she had decided to study after high-school: a Bachelor of Arts in Science, majoring in pure mathematics. Science and math were probably even more closely linked than math and music. And Sas didn’t mind science. She was two years into a four-year course and still making excellent grades, considering the level of complexity university mathematics consisted of. She worked with imaginary, transfinite and cardinal numbers; three-dimensional parabolas; logarithms—and that was just the start of it. Sas wasn’t even sure what she would use it for, but she knew that she didn’t want to become a mechanical engineer. Although people were constantly telling her it was good money and she had the brains for it, it simply wasn’t her passion.
She often wondered where she inherited her mathematical intelligence from. Her parents were more interested in literacy and business than math or even music. While living in Adelaide, Corey and Victori Robertson owned and managed the Eagle on the Hill Library, which was more than just a library. It was suggested to Sas that her intelligence came from being partly ambidextrous. She wrote neatly with her left hand and would struggle if she were forced to use her right hand. But when it came to batting, bowling or throwing a ball, cutting with scissors or a knife, holding a baby in her arms, etcetera, she could just as easily use her right hand as her left. Perhaps that was only because she lived in a right-handed world and had been taught by right-handed people how to chop food, play sport and carry weighted objects. Nonetheless, ambidexterity had been linked to increased brain activity.
Math, music and creativity were said to be associated with the right hemisphere of the brain, which was prompted by the use of the left hand. But she was also perfectly adequate when it came to the studies of literature, history, language, health, religion, politics, economics, etc. She had never failed an exam. She rarely scored below an ‘A’ in any subject. It was only that math and music were her preferences.
Sas loved to sing. She had taken singing lessons for the past four years with a well-rounded teacher who taught her the theory of music, classical breathing techniques and methodology; while also encouraging her to sing in a more modern style rather than an operatic tone.
Sas had a beautiful voice. According to her mother, Tori, her voice sounded just like her biological grandmother Rebekah’s voice. Being left-handed had been passed down from Rebekah as well.
Sas had never met Rebekah because her grandmother had died in a plane crash long before she was born, when Tori was still very little. Rebekah’s identical twin sister Rachel had adopted Tori, and she was the woman Sas referred to as ‘Grandma.’ But Rachel was not much of a singer and neither was Tori. That talent seemed to have skipped a generation and planted itself squarely in Samantha’s mouth. In all honesty, though, Sas rarely used her gift. That was a confidence issue.
One thing she had lacked most of her life was confidence: the confidence to do what she wanted to do and be who she wanted to be. Admittedly, she wasn’t really sure who that was just yet.
She was a sister; she knew that much. The second eldest in a family of four—five, when one included her miscarried brother Timothy in heaven. She was also a twin to her brother Aiden who was third eldest, but was only younger by one hour. Her identity was very much wrapped up in her family. She worried about them constantly. She had ever since she could remember. She worried because of the things she had seen as a little girl.
Dreams.
Visions.
Angels.
Demons…
Apparently that was another gift that ran in the family—seeing supernatural phenomena. As if Sas didn’t have enough natural talent already, God had added spiritual gifts to the mix. Not that Sas resented it. Really, she didn’t. She did, however, keep it to herself. Her mother and sister, who shared the same insight, did not need to be burdened by the things she had seen. They had enough burdens of their own to bear.
Her sister Rebequah, who was named after their grandmother and apparently had their grandmother’s strength of character and personality, experienced a kind of hell-on-earth nine years ago because of the spiritual things God revealed to her.
Sas remembered the demon with red eyes who had tormented her older sister. She didn’t just recall the occasion; she could see the demon in her mind’s eye. It was massive. Like a whale. Dark and dirty. The presence of raw evil, power and hatred.
Rebequah was involved in the rescue of a close family friend, Kia Stewart, from the clutches of a Satanic witches’ coven in South Australia. During that ordeal, Rebequah witnessed the murder of Kia’s half-sister. The man who was now Rebequah’s husband, Jesse Davies, suffered a serious knife wound while rescuing her from being murdered herself. It left a permanent scar on his leg and still caused intermittent aches and pains, while Rebequah only suffered an abrasion across her stomach.
Jesse’s sister Beth and her husband Aaron were involved that day as well. Aaron was stabbed and left for dead. And Kia’s relatives, whom the Robertsons had always considered family, endured severe trauma. Loraine, Daniel, Gracie and DJ Vella, were held hostage and subjected to things no one should ever have to endure. Kia and the Vellas had undergone years of counseling since that time.
Samantha did not need to add her personal challenges to all of that drama. The situation had caused enough stress for her parents, who loved so many of the victims involved, especially their eldest daughter Rebequah. Having embraced Kia and the Vellas nine years earlier under similar circumstances, they’d been concerned about the effects this would have on their family. Not to mention the Davies family as well. Jesse Davies was now Tori and Corey’s son-in-law and the father of their first grandson. Beq and Jesse were expecting a second baby boy later in the year.
Sas was not inclined to share her secrets with her twin brother either. As much as they’d grown up as best friends, his spirituality was different from hers. He was a strong and determined young man who was studying to become a doctor. Like her, he was highly intelligent. He also had the competitive edge he needed to succeed. He was motivated and confident and she loved him dearly for it. Far be it from her to stand in his way. She’d only ever encouraged and supported him as a good sister should.
When he’d decided as a sixteen-year-old that he wanted to become a doctor, she too had considered the possibility for herself. The thing that irked her was working face-to-face with people every day. The idea of it made her feel nervous—especially if she was going to have their lives in her hands. But she and Aiden had often done things as a team—for better or worse.
When she’d begun singing lessons, Aiden had taken up guitar. As it turned out, he was a natural. When he’d decided to train as a swimmer, she’d joined him. She would never be able to swim as fast as he could, but they enjoyed each other’s company and the exercise. She could swim a kilometer in twenty-eight minutes. He could do it in twenty-four.
When he’d decided to move from Wollongong to the Australian Capital Territory (ACT) for University, he’d asked if she would like to come with him. They could rent a unit together and study at the same school. Neither of them wanted to live in the hustle and bustle of Sydney CBD, so the nation’s capital sounded like the next best thing. Apparently the roads were set out much the same as Adelaide, and it wasn’t as populated as Sydney. Plus, they would only be a two-to-three-hour drive from their parents’ and younger brother’s home. She and Aiden had moved there together and enrolled in similar degrees. His was a bachelor of medicine and bachelor of surgery (MBBS). Her bachelor of science could easily be transferred to medicine if she decided that’s what she wanted.
So here they were, living in the ACT, a couple of hours from Wollongong, three hours from Sydney, and at least fourteen hours from their childhood home in Adelaide Hills, South Australia. And she was sitting in another lecture, daydreaming again! She’d been doing that a lot lately. Probably her entire life. She found that whether she listened or not, she could always figure things out on her own, reading a textbook or whatnot.
Professor Ulrich was dismissing the class. Half of what he’d said in the lecture had gone over her head, but that didn’t worry her. Sas usually found it easier to focus her attention when she was in control of what she had to study, as opposed to having to listen to a verbose lecturer expound the same concepts repeatedly.
Samantha picked up her textbooks, placing her quiz paper on top, slotted them neatly into the beige bag she carried around the Australian National University (ANU) each day, and made her way to a café not far from the grounds for lunch. She never bought food from the cafeteria on ANU property—it was too crowded for her taste. Wherever there were gatherings of people, there were spiritual beings as well. Sometimes she found them a little overwhelming. Maybe that was why she didn’t want to work with people.
Sas perceived things about people that they didn’t even realize about themselves. She could sense the strongholds in people’s lives; their personalities, addictive tendencies and sexual preferences. All sorts of details that she didn’t really need to know. The Professor, for example, was not really so bad. He just carried a lot of baggage related to his German heritage, Hitler and the Second World War. One of his ancestors had been an active Nazi soldier. That wasn’t his fault, but it made her feel very uncomfortable.
Even now, as she crossed the road, she sensed things. There was someone following her. He’d been following her for a few weeks, since Uni recommenced, and she was not sure why. Aiden had nicknamed him ‘stalker,’ and liked to tease her about it. She was not afraid of him, as she didn’t get the sense that he wanted to hurt her. But if he didn’t explain himself soon, she would have to face her fear and ask him for herself who he was and what he thought he was doing.
Although she couldn’t see him right then, she had observed him one day as they both sat at opposite ends of a park, reading from textbooks. He was a tall man—much taller than she was. She was the runt of her family. Perhaps because she was born a little premature and was a twin, yet even Aiden was considerably taller than she was now. He looked to be about thirty. He was well built—probably the same size as her father. He had a handsome, oblong face, but there were a lot of lines on that face—worry lines. His eyes were dark blue—as dark as the deepest ocean. He had black hair and thick, black eyebrows—not so thick that they would be considered ugly, just enough to be noticeable.
Sas pushed on the café door and lined up behind the two customers already inside. Her pursuer stepped into the café about a minute later and stood beside her with a black satchel on his right shoulder. He was wearing ordinary blue jeans that were neither tight nor loose, and a grey t-shirt with two little buttons at the collar left unbuttoned. Another man stepped in just behind him, wearing a white suit. Something about the second man’s appearance caught Sas’s attention. His face was peaceful, like no other man’s she had ever encountered. Angelic almost. She gave him a second glance, and the man in-between turned his head toward her, smiling to get her attention. Her eyes met his and she smiled back. Her heart fluttered a little as she wondered if this stranger was finally about to introduce himself.
“Hi. I’m Liam Hunter,” he volunteered. “I believe we go to the same University.”
“Yes. I’m Samantha Robertson. People call me Sas.”
“Sas?” he asked. “That’s unusual. I like it.”
She tried not to blush. “Thank you,” she answered politely.
“Everyone calls me Hunter,” he went on to explain.
She should have known. What a fitting name for someone who had been stalking her! She looked him up and down, reading him. There was something in the way he stood with his feet planted shoulder width apart, one slightly in front of the other that attested to the fact that he was, indeed, a hunter. But there was also a slight stoop to his shoulders that spoke of someone being hunted… or haunted. And those worry lines on his face told the story of a man in deep emotional pain. He hid it well, though. Whatever burdened him had not tainted his confidence or his faith. She could sense the Holy Spirit on him in such a way that led her to conclude he was a Christian. Like her.
Liam Hunter. She repeated the name in her head. There was something so gentle about the name Liam. The same meekness that was masked in his dark eyes—dark, not just in tint, but in edginess. There was also something unusual about his name—gentility and desperate determination blending together. Was she missing something? “What’s your middle name?” she asked before she could stop herself. What a strange question to ask someone she’d only just met.
His thick eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. Why does she want to know that? It took him a moment to respond. “Ah, it’s Hugo.”
Liam Hugo Hunter, she said to herself. His hesitance was suspicious, and the name still lacked the clarity she was expecting, but why would he lie? “Sorry, it was a silly thing to ask.” She realized that she was next in line and turned to look at the lady working behind the front counter.
“What would you like?”
“Sausage roll please,” Sas replied.
“Make that two,” Hunter chimed in and handed a five dollar note to the lady.
“That’ll be seven dollars.” The lady used a pair of tongs to place the sausage rolls on two plates while she waited for the rest of the payment.
Sas opened her purse to rummage for coins.
“I’ll get it,” Hunter insisted, and bumped Sas’s arm with his elbow as he reached into his jeans pocket for his wallet.
A couple of coins went flying out of Samantha’s hand, and the man dressed in white picked them up. He smiled at her kindly as he handed them back. “Your coins, Samantha.”
Sas’s eyebrows crinkled. He must have overheard her introducing herself to Hunter, yet the look in his eyes was so familiar, he seemed convinced he knew her. She did not recognize him at all. He was tall, but not as tall as Hunter, and she couldn’t guess at his age. His hair was grey-white and his face looked timeless! The man winked at her then and left the café without buying anything.
Hunter didn’t take any real notice of the interaction. He found a two-dollar coin, paid, and thanked the woman who served them. Then, turning to Sas, he asked, “Would you like to eat together?”
Was that why he had followed her? To ask her out? Sas had never been asked on a date before. Probably because she kept to herself a lot of the time. She smiled agreeably at Hunter, but on the inside, she did not feel comfortable about eating lunch with a guy she’d just met. They approached a small round silver table with silver metal chairs that were decorative enough for a small café, although not very comfortable if you wanted to stay for more than half an hour.
“Thank you for buying my lunch,” Sas said as she sat at the table.
“You’re welcome.” Hunter sat down opposite the smaller, younger woman. Needless to say, he found her attractive. He’d been following her for a while, not because she was pretty, but because there was something very different about this woman. Something special and yet secretive. The more time he spent near her, the more beautiful she became in his eyes. So he decided there was no harm in getting to know her better.
He guessed she was in her early twenties, which seemed so young to him now. His early twenties had been a lot more carefree. Yet she exuded a maturity that was far beyond her years, and possibly his own as well. He had already learned that this woman was highly intelligent. As was her brother. She had long, straight, dark brown hair that reminded him of his wife’s hair.
His deceased wife, Abby.
His heart ached at the very thought of her. Abby’s eyes had been dark brown, while Samantha’s were baby blue. Dreamy, like the sky.
Sas was wearing dark blue jeans and a floral print shirt. Very feminine. There was a certain scent that followed her, not artificial like perfume; natural like flowers. Her petite frame was alluring to him as well, like she was begging to be protected from bigger, meaner things. That was partly the reason he was following her: to protect her.
“You and I share the same forensics lecture,” he commented.
She knew that. “Are you studying forensic science?” she asked.
“I’m auditing a couple of subjects related to crime scene investigation.”
“Really? Wow!” That was something she could never do! Working with dead people would be even worse than working with the living.
“What are you studying?” Hunter asked between bites of his sausage roll.
“Bachelor of science majoring in mathematics. I enjoy it, although I’m not sure what I’m going to do with it yet.”
“Wow, you must be one smart cookie! I’m sure there’s plenty of time for you to figure out what you want to do. How old are you?”
“Twenty,” she replied. “We’ll be twenty-one in August.”
“We?”
Sas blushed again. “Sorry, I have a twin brother and I’m so used to sharing everything with him, I sometimes forget that I’m my own person.”
“Aiden’s your twin?”
“Yeah. You know him?”
“I’ve seen him around. I figured you were brother and sister. You do look alike. I just didn’t pick you as twins. And so young.”
His voice trailed off and Sas wondered if he was surprised by how young she was. “How old are you?” she asked, sincerely curious.
His lips turned up slightly. “How old do you think I am?”
“Twenty-nine?” She was sure he was older, but she was trying to give him a compliment by saying he was still in his twenties.
“Actually, I’ll be twenty-eight in a month.”
Now that she didn’t expect. The bags beneath his eyes indicated otherwise. “Sorry,” she said softly.
“Sas, can I tell you something?”
Samantha’s heart flip-flopped once, wondering what he wanted to say. “Yes.”
“You have said the word ‘sorry’ at least three times in the last fifteen minutes. Stop apologizing!”
The tenderness in his eyes put her mind at ease. Hunter seemed to be a genuinely nice guy. She still wasn’t sure what he saw in her.
They finished their sausage rolls and Hunter bought cappuccinos for each of them. They spent the next hour talking about study and were getting to know a little more about each other. They were happy to discover that they shared a common faith in Jesus and a similar view of Professor Ulrich—a grumpy lecturer that no one liked to approach.
Hunter steered the conversation and learned a lot more about Sas than she learned about him. It was part of his plan. How could he protect someone if he didn’t know them?
Toward the end of the conversation, Sas decided she had really enjoyed herself. It felt special to have Hunter’s undivided attention and she was definitely warming to the guy. She didn’t have a lot of deep friendships in the ACT as yet, so it was the most attention she’d received from anyone outside of her family for quite a while.
He asked for her number and whether they could have coffee again soon. She said yes and gave him her cell phone number. Then she walked away feeling very glad that she had finally met her mysterious stalker; Liam Hunter.