Her glowing smile dimmed a bit when she saw the FOR-SALE sign in the front yard. Whatever memories she had acquired here would always remain in her heart and soul; this she knew. Now it was time to let go of the past to begin a new life.
In Rome.
With Kimball.
With so many years ahead of them.
A hand landed softly on her shoulder as Kimball joined her on the deck. And then she fell into his embrace with the two overlooking a lake that could have been captured on a postcard. It was that magnificent.
“Rome is a bit different than here,” he told her.
“It’s a beautiful city, I know. I’ve been there before.”
“Still, it’s a world away.”
“But one I’ll come to adore as long as you’re with me.”
Soon caught up within his own memories, Kimball dialed up the day when Shari erected a white-picket fence around the cabin because it fit his utopian image of the American Dream—that of the suburban house with a fenced-in yard, a barbecue, a dog, children, a lifestyle that was entirely fenced in as his own private paradise. Then he realized that these fantasies did not make the dream. His dream was rather simple and something that could be seen with the naked eye instead of the mind’s eye. Shari was everything that made his life perfect and ideal. It wasn’t the house or the enclosed yard that would contain what he believed would protect him from the hazards of the outside world. All he managed to do was to replace his emotional barriers by erecting another he believed would make him happy. He thought the picket fence would hold back all outside interference, troublesome influences, and hardships. But the world didn’t operate like that and never had. All the fencing did was create another prison for Kimball with the pickets the bars. When he realized this, he took the pickets down piece by piece and burned them in a fire. And from this action came a certain liberation.
He finally felt . . .
. . . Free.
And this was something Shari realized as well, this containment. She understood that Kimball's reason for tearing down the fence was because underneath there was something about him that could not be tamed or caged, but that he would always be something with unbridled ferocity.
As they overlooked the picturesque lake, they were excited that a new life was about to begin in a foreign land with foreign people dictated by a foreign culture. To Kimball, the Vatican had always been his residence and his poorly lit chamber was his place of personal darkness and comfort, with the shadows keeping him company.
Shari, who would become a fixed principal inside the American Embassy in Rome, found herself both exhilarated and nervous at the same time. Together, as with all relationships, sacrifices would have to be made. Kimball would have to learn to live far from the comforting darkness of his chamber to be with her inside the festive tone of their newfound living arrangement—that of sharing the light that she was accustomed to.
Time would only tell as they stood together within these personal thoughts knowing that the challenges between them would be overcome with minimal shifts to their lifestyle. But there would be outside challenges beyond their control—challenges from sources that are fanned by the evils of Darkness. Terrorism, war, sacrifices in the name of one god or another, mayhem, political skirmishes causing tens of thousands to flee their native lands, atrocities abounding without restrictions—all would eventually come into play. And in the wake of these travesties, Kimball Hayden would continue to walk the Gray to better serve the Light. Only this time, Shari Cohen would rule by his side wielding the metaphorical Blessed Sword and Shield that would be granted to her by the power of the Ethereal Light.
Together, neither could wait for what was about to come their way.
But then again, one should always choose carefully for what they wish for.
CHAPTER
TWO
Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
The woman was short by the conventional standards of height at five-one, but she was a giant amongst men. Over the years she had assumed many names but a single title, that as the ruling member of a Catholic extremist group known as the Nocturnal Saints. Conservatism was everything to the organization, whereas liberalism was a profane word and—even more so—an obscene faith. They fully believed that men should always bend to the will of God, and never should God bend to the will of man. In the past they had killed wayward priests whose sins were considered too great for redemption. Other times they had made examples of those who spoke about liberation from the old ways to fully convert to the rising reforms of the Catholic church, which had been locked in tradition for centuries. The new mantra was becoming: Adapt, change and accept. But this was what the Nocturnal Saints believed was a ‘breaking away’ from the norms of moral custom and a fracturing from true faith. With enough changes, if not constrained, then Catholicism would no longer be the religion or faith handed down by Christ. What the Nocturnal Saints had become over the centuries was an organization that refuted any liberal aspects beyond aged conventions. They became intolerant of views beyond the written and established word within religious tomes. Different outlooks were considered dangerous and needed to be dealt with, often with violence. And those who desired to speak out with Lutheranism terms that were in condemnation of the church, they would forever disappear.
They were a strict and combative order, and an organization that lacked any tolerance outside of the ancient teachings of the Holy Roman Catholic church. To do so only brought their wrath upon those who dared to contest them.
A few years back when subjects of the church were being summarily executed for their sins, the
