One Thousand Years to Forever

By Mary Moriarty

Copyright © 2013, Mary
Moriarty

Smashwords Edition

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book
contains material protected under International and Federal
Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of
this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced
or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or
mechanical, including photocopying, emailing, blogging, recording,
or by any digital information storage and retrieval system without
express written permission from the author.

I would like to take time to thank
a few people…

First, to my husband Bob Stiehler,
for being so supportive of my love of writing. I would like to
thank my children and how they have been super supportive and for
being some of my best advertising. I love you all, Megan, MaryKate,
Patrick, Joseph, Ian, Daniel and Brendan.

For three of my best friends and
readers: Karen, Diane and Monica. The encouragement and input has
been invaluable to me.

To my beta reader and editor, Robin
Hanks LaRosa. I appreciate all you have done and love
you!!!

To my editor extraordinaire, Linda
Robbs Gren. You are awesome and have helped me so much in this
whole process. I love having you as my editor and love calling you
my friend!!

For a dear friend, Tom Proctor, who
put me in contact with Monica Hall and his sister, Linda. Through
him, I now have a twin (Monica) who is as dear to me as any sister
and my friend and his real sister who again is a dear friend and
another sister from another mother and my editor. Thank you
Tom!!

This book and any of the books to
follow are in memory to my sweet dear friend and little Bro, Robert
McClelland Smith. You were taken from us way too early and for me I
have days that I want to share something with you but I know you
are watching. You were such an inspiration to me, Rob, and you were
always telling people about your ‘sis’ writing. I miss you beyond
anything that can be put into words or I can express, BUT, I know
you are up there somewhere smiling down with your Cheeky grin, and
fishing. So, Rob, this book is for you, Mum and Jo: my ‘Other’
family. I love you!!!

To all my readers since the
publication of my first book “The Kings of Angkor: Army of a
Thousand Elephants” I write for you!

With writing the prologue I tried
to keep it as close to the facts and the time line as possible.
Since I was not living in the United States, but in Cambodia and
was asleep, I didn’t even know till the next morning what had
happened. It was the night of September 11
^th
, in the
USA, when I learned what had taken place. My current husband has
been a Fire Fighter since he was 15, down in Long Island, and is
also a 3
^rd
generation Fire Fighter, lost boyhood friends
that day. Being a Fire Fighter myself, I tried to treat that awful
day with upmost respect for the fallen. I wrote that prologue in
memory of the fallen brothers and sisters who died that day and for
all the victims.

May we never forget.

“
Sir, I think there is something
you should see... ”

Colum O’Heachthanna looked up to
the sound of his butler’s voice, he was looking out at the view
that lay in front of him. As Colum stood, the door to his office
crashed open and in walked his father. His steps, matched the size
of his body: Long, large and strong.

Cormac O’Heachthanna barely looked
at his son as he moved silently to the window next to their family
butler.

Colum came to stand next to the two
men, all three silent sentinels to the tragedy that was quickly
unfolding. All three were quiet as each man was lost in his own
thoughts. Then Colum spoke.

“
Does anyone know what
happened?”

The butler barely turned from the
scene that was unfolding in front of them to the huge flat screen
on the wall to their right, it blinked on.

As the three men watched the drama
unfold the voice of the newscaster rose and fell with emotion and
then, “Oh My God, A second plane…it’s…it’s hit, it’s hit the South
Tower... ”

Colum started to pace. “I can’t let
this happen again... she’s in the North Tower... ”

His father looked over at him
calmly. “Katherine?”

Colum stared at his father,
incredulous. “Of course Katherine!” He passed his father then
brought his hand slamming down on the nearest table, a priceless
antique within his reach. The table looked like it would withstand
the blow but then gave way.

Cormac looked at his son and then
at the table. “Do what you need to do to get her out
safely.”

Colum threw on his leather coat and
went for the door of the balcony. “Thank you, father. I don’t think
I could go through another lifetime waiting for her to grow
up.”

“
Try to get as many out with her
as you can.” His words were swallowed by the wind that came into
the penthouse suite of their office from the balcony.

Their butler, Travis, looked at
Cormac. He had been with them for almost one thousand years and he
knew both men like they were his own family. They were in fact his
family, since it was Colum who had created him after he lay dying
on the battlefield at Clontarf. He had been Mael Morda, enemy to
King Brian Boru but also the King’s brother-in-law. Cormac and
Colum, father and son, had fought along with the High King but had
respected Mael as a leader.

“
If I know young Colum, he will do
his upmost to get as many out as he is able to. Sir... ”

Cormac turned tired eyes on Travis.
“How many times do I have to remind you that you don’t have to call
me Sir? You are, in fact, my equal.”

“
Begging your pardon, S- Sir, but
if you don’t mind I will always be calling you Sir, as I am no
longer in charge.”

Cormac needed something to break.
Not only was the world, his world, under attack but his son was
going into harm’s way. However, he had complete confidence that he
would succeed. He had been on tougher missions and he was, after
all, not human, though he appeared to be. He was, in fact, half
Fallen Angel and half vampire.

“
Don’t worry, Sir, he will be
fine. He is after all, destined to be your successor. And, if I may
say so, I think he will make a very good King.”

Cormac looked out at the scene in
front of them, to the smoke that shot to the sky from both towers,
along with fireballs and debris that fell from both the buildings.
He, Cormac O’Heachthanna, had seen too much hate, war, and
destruction in his time especially as King. It would be good to
step down in favor of his son.

“
Yes, he will make a very good
King, actually, a great King but he needs his Queen.”

* * * * * * *

John MacNamara knew he was in a
dream. He felt like he was just floating along but he knew from the
speed that he must be running. Smoke and debris fell as he ran. He
looked around his beloved city and he knew something bigger than he
had ever seen was happening. He tried to look up but he wasn’t able
to or allowed. He was moving with a purpose and as he looked down
he saw he had his turnout gear on. In his hands he was holding a
box flashlight and an ax. As he was moving forward, he saw others
moving out of the building that he approached.

He knew from instinct what was
expected of him. He knew the chances that he was going to get out
were slim. It was a gut feeling, but it was his job to get as many
out as possible or die trying. He entered the building as people
pushed past him. He could almost smell the smoke as he started to
climb stairs, heard his breathing as he ran up the flight of stairs
in the stairwell. As he climbed, floor after floor, there was a
reason for his coming in here. The people around him were not
panicking but moving with a purpose, trying as they may to get down
and out while he continued on and upward.

He reached the twelfth floor and
there she stood. She was framed by dust and smoke that was
filtering down and she looked wild. Her red hair was a mess and her
green eyes framed by black from her makeup but she was beautiful
and she sighed a sigh of relief as she saw his face. She knew him,
knowing him in his gear. He knew she would be thinking that
together they would get out now. He was right behind her, but he
wouldn’t be going with her not today, not ever. He had to get her
out, but how to get his wife, his Irish witch, out of this hell
that was soon going to descend upon them? Then he saw the man
behind her, the biggest, tallest man he had ever seen but, where
had he seen him before? Probably on the streets and he happened to
be in
this
building. Looking him in his eyes they
communicated silently to each other. Somehow John knew this man was
meant to be here. That this man was meant for Katherine,
his
Katherine. He heard him say,
“I will take care of her and your
children, don’t worry. Your memory will be honored.”

He saw the look in his girl’s face,
knew she would fight. She was, after all, a fighter and hadn’t they
fought this morning over this very same thing? It had been a while
since they had had such a fight but they had and now he knew he
wouldn’t be coming home to talk, to make up, to make love, like
they always did. There would be no going out on his bike for a long
ride and finding a spot for just the two of them. No, he wouldn’t
be going home now or ever. But this man would take Katherine out of
here, out of harm’s way.

He reached up and touched her face
one last time. Saw the tears pool in her beautiful eyes and then
start to spill down her cheeks. Saw people pass by, trying to
escape the fate that would not meet them today, but would be his.
Then he heard his voice. “Get her out!”

Heard her scream, heard all the
screams as they vibrated off the walls as he walked past and felt
her body one last time and then felt her body as it was lifted up
and away. She screamed, kicked and tore at the man who now carried
her down the stairs as he kept going forward and up the stairs. He
felt the shudder of the building and knew something worse had
happened. Heard the screams of those around him but he kept
going.

But this was just a dream and he
would wake up and his little witch, his Irish witch, would be
nestled next to him and he would turn her over and kiss her and
make love like they always did and he would go to work and
everything would be fine, because this was just a dream, after
all...

* * * * * * ****

Katherine MacNamara stood, as did
others, in the elevator of the North Tower of the World Trade
Center. She was late, as she always was. Due, in fact, because of
her kids and the fight she’d had with her husband, John. He had
left just before her to start his shift at the fire station but not
before they had one of their knock down drag out fights. It
happened about twice a year and when it did the whole neighborhood
knew the MacNamara’s were fighting. The Fighting Irish some called
them in their neighborhood. Now, as she rode the elevator to the
106
^th
floor she tried to think just what the fight was
about. She looked at the people around her and saw everyone with
their suits on, carrying brief cases. She noticed the floor marker
read 60
^th
floor, when all of a sudden the building shook
with such force she thought
earthquake,
as did a lot of the
others who voiced it in the elevator. She saw the time on her watch
was 8:45 am. The lights blinked twice and then they went out. They
all stood there quietly and then someone got out a lighter, another
asked, “Does anyone have a flashlight?”

Katherine, being the wife and
daughter of fire fighters, said, “Yes.”

All done calmly... a little too
calmly, she would think later. After prying open the roof of the
elevator hatch, they saw that they were still near the
60
^th
floor, so one by one they started to climb up and
out. What met their calm and quiet as they got out of the elevator
shaft, was mass mayhem. Katherine stood there and then raised her
voice. “We need to get to the nearest stairwell and start down.”
Seeing women in heels like herself she said, “Off with the heels.
Carry or throw but get them off.” She then pitched her briefcase
because she knew it was going to take all of her strength, and
maybe more, to get out of what had just happened. They were working
their way down stairwell B when her phone went off. She saw it was
her husband.