Infinite Sacrifice (34 page)

“He left us to find his own safety
that day?”

He ignores my question. “And
lastly, Ulric performed the important task of clearing away the
dead, connecting you to Rowan and Oliver, and even bringing you
Gussalen.”

“Wow, what a treat that
was.”

He raises his
eyebrows at me. “Not quite Mother Theresa yet, I see.” Zachariah
unfolds my crossed arms. “He saw the humanity in a lowly prostitute
and brought her to you. He is not as
evil
as you want him to
be.”

“If he’s not evil, what is evil,
then? Is there a Devil?”

He takes a deep breath. “The other
question I have difficulty answering.” He brings up one of his legs
within his intertwined hands. “As pure positivity and light is what
some call God, there equally exists pure negativity and darkness
some call the Devil. Heaven exists of pure light, while Hell exists
of pure darkness. Just as you will feel great in God’s light, you
will feel terrible in the Devil’s darkness. Earth is a unique place
where both can occur. A soul goes there to choose light over
darkness, and sometimes badly guided souls are drawn to the
darkness. Some become so miserable and set in such sorrow that they
can’t even see the light. Some are so used to darkness and
suffering that when they pass on, they don’t go to the light but
choose to remain in the darkness.”

“Is that what ghosts
are?”

He nods. “What we call earthbound
spirits. Spirits that have not gone to the light and don’t even
know they’re dead. It can take a very long time to help these
unfortunate souls. Ghosts can also be spirit guides one suddenly
becomes aware of.”

“Can you tell me the next big
lesson I have to learn?”

“What do you think?”

“
I have to see it
for myself,
” I
mimic.

He laughs heartily. “You’re finally
catching on.”

I laugh and say, “I really wish I
could read your mind; we could save a lot of time.”

“Unfortunately for both of us, it
doesn’t work that way.”

“Why can’t any of these lessons
sound more inviting? It can’t be lessons learned from enjoying life
too much? Being too rich? Being too beautiful?”

“Maybe that’s all ahead of you? Why
don’t you go and see?”

“Right.” I scoff, thinking about
the next big lesson I’m about to throw myself into. “I have one
more question before I go on to see the next life.”

“You can ask me
anything.”

“If Simon had lived longer, he
would’ve chosen to be with me, right?”

So familiar were those eyes I’d
waited so long to see again—eyes that knew me so well—eyes Ellie
promised would soon come.

“Simon
chose
to leave you when
he did.”

“Why would he have chosen to leave
me then?”

“Because if he didn’t, he would
have failed. He only wanted to test himself so much. He knew he
couldn’t take more than that.”

“Are we going to be together,
ever?”

“You must wait and see.”

I nod, disappointed.

“But I think you will be very
interested with this next life, though.” He gives me a
wink.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” I
laugh as I sit up and put my arm out.

“So that’s all I need to do to get
you to continue?” His eyes glisten with amusement as he points a
finger to his forehead. “I’ll have to remember that.”

I imagine Simon’s shining green
eyes as Zachariah takes hold and everything goes black.

Acknowledgements:

This book could never have existed
without the help of the following people:

Patricia, my mother, for my being
my first editor, generating plot ideas, and listening to hours and
hours of discussing conflict, characters, and basically everything
else

Erin, my sister and writing buddy,
for going through all of this with me as you were writing your
first book. You inspired me to get this story out and for
continuing to help me through every part of the process
(erinwaters.com)

EJ, my husband, for all your
support and encouragement, and for putting up with the many hours
I’m off writing

Scott, my son, for all your love
and patience

Annabelle, my daughter, for being
such a good baby so I could get this books out

Edward, my father, for reading my
first drafts—even though you hate how my characters have to die at
the end of each life

Jessica, my niece, for being one of
my first young adult readers

Bethany Yeager, writer &
critique partner extraordinaire, for being so helpful and such a
fantastic contributor to the book
(beyeager.blogspot.com)

Westport Writer’s Workshop with
Matt Debenham, for all of your suggestions and comments
(westportwritersworkshop.com)

Donna, for creating my fantastic
covers (digitaldonna.com)

Linda Ingmanson, my thorough and
superb editor

Bethany Bears, my wonderful and
super quick copy editor (lastdraftediting.com)

Guido Henkel, for formatting both
my ebook and print book (guidohenkel.com)

Caro Clarke, for your wonderful,
extremely helpful website and personal direction
(caroclarke.com)

Absolute Write Forum Members, with
special mention to Jim Brown , Lia Brooke
(bookewyrme.straydreamers.com), Camilla DelValle, Catherine Miller,
Meretseger, Nadia Lee (nadialee.net), and David Gaughran for all
your self-publishing advice
(davidgaughran.wordpress.com)

Kindle Boards Forum
Members

Sneak peak from the second
novel

in the Infinite Series:

Infinite Devotion

Expected to Launch January
2012

Fifth Life

The Pope’s Pawn

Chapter 1

Pulling aside the burgundy velvet
curtains, I peer down among the thick crowd surging below. The
heavy August air creeps in through the open window providing no
relief for us inside. The Vatican square is in all its glory below,
despite the heat, and I watch for the procession to come around
under our balcony of the Palazzo Santa Maria.

“Lucrezia! Lucrezia! Over here!
Your father is coming down this way!”

I fly to Adriana’s side and stretch
out over the railing to see his tall, massive form standing out
among all others with his hooked nose and full mouth beneath the
heavy papal crown—his jeweled hand waving to his people.

“All of Italy has come to see your
father elected!” Giulia squeals.

“There—the Borgia symbol!” Adriana
points at the fountain.

A magnificent fountain, specially
made for today, of a giant and powerful bull with one stream from
its forehead that flows with red wine. Even though I’m sad to leave
our happy place in Spain, I feel great things are going to come of
our move to Rome.

The door to our chamber is thrown
open, and my older brothers Cesare and Juan run to me.

“Lucrezia! You’re here!” Juan
shouts as he reaches me first.

Cesare practically pulls him off,
trying to give me his hug next. The music starts up behind us, and
Adriana opens the balcony doors wide to let the charming melody in.
Juan pushes Cesare aside, takes me in his arms, and we giggle as we
practice our courtly dances around the expansive tapestry-covered
room. Cesare grabs Guilia up and follows us around the room. It’s
so nice to be together again, since I haven’t seen them in months.
Juan turns to Cesare, tapping his shoulder to cut in, and even
though Juan doesn’t want to yield, I let go and take Cesare's
hands.

As we dance off, I have a hard time
figuring out which brother is more handsome. Both are tall and well
built, but Juan has a finer and more delicate face—Juan the poet.
Cesare has more powerful facial features, high cheekbones, and a
large but perfectly straight nose—Cesare the warrior. Peering into
Juan’s indigo eyes is like falling into a deep pool, and Cesare’s
amber eyes are the fire that warms you after. With only one year
between them and both on the verge of manhood, it’s hard to say
whose look is more intriguing.

Out of breath, Juan decides to stop
and falls down into a gold brocade chair near the fireplace.
“Lucrezia and Giulia, how lovely you both are,” Juan says with a
sweet smile between catching his breath.

Giulia and I look at each other and
blush. Little did they know we’d been standing in front of our
dressing mirrors all day primping and trying on all of our dresses
for the momentous occasion. I’ve stayed with the beautiful and
good-natured Guilia the last few months, but I have everything I
love dearest to me now in one place: Adriana, who is like a mother
to me; Guilia the sister I never had; my exciting brothers; and
most important of all, my father.

Shortly after the private door that
leads directly to St. Peter’s opens, my father’s procession spills
into the room. My father, still wearing the papal crown and gown,
holds his arms out to me and embraces me tightly. He also looks to
Giulia and gives her an equally warm hug.

He reaches to give Adriana a kiss.
“Cousin, so nice to see you’ve arrived well.”

She bows to him instead and says,
“His Holiness, Alexander the Sixth, was very generous with our more
than adequate quarters.”

He smiles proudly at hearing his
newly appointed name being said out loud. When she comes up, he
still gives her the kiss he intended.

“Come with me to dine tonight. I
want Giulia and Lucrezia at my side.” He turns and looks us both up
and down, hesitating a little longer on Guilia’s fine form. “I have
two angels dining with me tonight.” He guides us both through the
door into St. Peter’s.

I’m seated in the huge and lavishly
decorated dining room, my attention is drawn to the glistening of
all the silver and gold pieces strategically placed around the long
table. Besides our family all on one side, there are cardinals and
noblemen dining with us.

During our first course, Father
turns to me. “Lucrezia, given our new circumstances from my
election, I feel it would be in our best interest to cancel yet
another of your betrothals.”

I’m relieved, hoping it will at
least delay a few more months.

Cesare explains to me, “Now that
we’re here, it’s more advantageous to choose someone who can be of
more use to us in Rome.”

“Giovanni Sforza, Lord of Pesaro,”
Father says more for Cesare to hear than me.

Cesare scoffs loudly. “Sforza? He’s
a minor prince. I’m sure you can find a greater alliance now from
your new position.”

“I think he’ll be much help to us
with his ties to Milan.” Father pauses to chew and dabs his mouth
with his napkin. “I may be pope, but we’ve still far to
go.”

Cesare nods, considering this.
“What is the dowry?”

“Thirty-one thousand ducats, I
talked Sforza down from fifty thousand.” He smiles in delight and
stuffs his mouth full. He rests one elbow on the table, and his
silk sleeve slides down his arm, exposing a childhood scar running
from his wrist to his elbow.

“Lucrezia, he will suit you well.
Though he’s already a widower, I hear he’s quite
handsome.”

“I care not what he looks like,
Father. I could marry a chair if it’s most helpful for our family
position.” They nod happily. “That and the agreement that I’ll have
a year in Rome before I have to go live with him.”

Twelve is a very early age to
marry, and Father promised that he’ll require me to stay in the
Vatican one more year before the marriage is
consummated.

“A Borgia through and through,
always negotiating just like I taught you.” He smiles with his
slate-blue eyes squinting.