by Skyler Andra
My darkness leapt up like a flame fed more oxygen. It wanted more fuel. More of my fear. It pounded against my chest, demanding it.
No. No more. I wasn’t letting this consume me like it had Zak. I would not let Lucifer win.
I hunched my posture and steadied my hand. Sucking in a sharp breath, I moved the peeler slowly along the length of the carrot. If I worked carefully, I’d avoid hurting myself again. I repeated this action, getting used to the motion. Slowly but surely, I built my conviction and fought the fear as I peeled more carrots.
I ignored the darkness thumping inside my grace. I was not letting it beat me. That’s what Lucifer wanted—to control me and my grace. He wasn’t going to get the satisfaction. My power terrified him, and I was going to let it prosper so he’d never win.
“You’re good at this,” Uri encouraged, bumping me with his hip when I finished the first carrot, and I smiled. “I should get you in the kitchen more often.”
“I’d like that,” I replied.
“Hit me with another carrot, baby,” Uri spurred me.
I appreciated his encouragement, and because of it, I steamed through another five carrots, bringing the total to ten.
“Right.” He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Time to chop these babies up. You feel confident enough to handle a knife?”
“Hit me, baby,” I insisted, even though dread slid in my stomach.
“Attagirl!” Uri slid a knife across the metal counter. Then he picked up his own. “We need to cut the carrot in thick chunks. Like this.”
He demonstrated how to slice up the carrot into five to six sections.
A breath shuddered out of my lungs as I lifted my own knife. The edge of the blade glinted, highlighting its greater sharpness in comparison to the peeler. While the shaver might scrape my skin off, the knife could slice a finger off. Darkness lapped at my grace, ready to spill over if I invited it.
“Tuck your fingers in like this so that if you do slip, you won’t do much damage.” He kept his knuckles perpendicular to the knife’s edge.
With extra caution, I held tight to one end of the carrot, maintaining the angle of my knuckles while I slowly cut through the vegetable.
“That’s it.”
I paused and smiled at his coaxing. “Thank you.”
When I’d finished chopping up my first carrot, I put down the instrument and gave him a hug.
“Any time.” He stroked my hair, and I nuzzled my face into his chest, inhaling his scent. Earthy like bark. Salty like sea spray. Tangy like the spices in the Chinese takeaway. “While I’d love to cuddle, we have some potatoes to dice. We can’t let Gloria down.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled, holding him for a little while longer before letting go.
“Gloria!” Uri shouted. “It’s too quiet in here. We need some tunes. Jojo here is from out of town and has never heard any eighties rock ballads.”
“I’ve got an old radio out back.” Gloria disappeared to grab it.
***
An hour later, Mike and Zak had returned. Together we all chopped up the meat and rest of the ingredients they’d purchased. Uri and I swayed to the catchy songs as he showed me how to mix the ingredients together in three pots, boiling them over low heat.
“God.” Zak pressed his hands to his ears. “Turn it off.”
Uri chuckled and cranked up the volume. “You of all people need eighties rock ballads.”
I laughed and hummed to the tune.
“Make it stop,” Mike groaned, taking Zak’s side.
“You heard the boss.” Zak twisted the dial on the radio until a rock song, blaring with heavy guitars, pounded through the small speakers.
A few of the homeless men cheered.
“Boo!” Uri bellowed at them, turning his thumbs down, and they chuckled.
I laughed, clutching my belly when it hurt. It was beautiful how we were able to bring a smile to the people who’d lost their joy.
“Your job isn’t done yet.” Uri pulled me closer. “Last ingredient is herbs.”
He tipped a plastic container with oregano upside down, shaking it to sprinkle flakes on the liquid’s surface. I stirred it in with a long, wooden spoon. We left it for about ten minutes, the smell tantalizing my senses.
“Wanna try some?” he asked, scooping out some soup onto the spoon and blowing on it. “Just let it cool for a bit.”
I nodded. A few moments later he stretched the spoon towards me, and I opened my mouth, slurping up the hot, tomato-based liquid.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“Delicious,” I said, savoring the taste of vegetables with a hint of spiciness from the chili Uri had thrown in. “I’m glad I had your help and didn’t ruin the soup like I did breakfast.” I tucked my head, still embarrassed about that.
“You had a good teacher.” Uri crushed me to his side. “Just wait until tonight. I’ll cook you something even better.” He winked and placed the spoon beside the pot.
Zak carried over a tray of bowls that he’d washed. “Ready yet?”
“Sure is.” Uri grinned.
“Food’s ready!” Gloria called out.
One by one, the people lined up, and Xing Fei, Uri, and Gloria poured soup into bowls. A few feet away, Mike and I handed out bottles of water and cups of tea and coffee. Back in the kitchen, Zak prepared more meals, content to stay as far away from the “stinking, filthy people” as possible.
Downturned faces lifted as they received the precious sustenance. It lifted my spirits and made me forget all about my earlier fear.
The man who had been writing notes on his paper stopped in front of me, clutching his bowl. His eyes flickered white again, and he opened and shut his mouth a few times as if unable to find the words he wished to say. He pulled his coat tighter and mumbled, “Angel’s blood.”
“Excuse me?” I said at his strange words.
“Angel’s blood,” he repeated with more fervor.
A chill ran up my arm and I rubbed it.
“That’s a little weird, man,” Mike said, moving closer and hovering protectively. “Right when you’re about to eat.”
Mike shifted to grab a few more water bottles when the white flashed again in the man’s eyes and his head flinched back.
“Huh?” he said, his gaze cloudy.
“Enjoy your meal,” Mike said with a strong finality to it.
“Uh huh.” The man moved away, glancing at the angel with a bewildered expression.
When he sat down, Mike leaned over and whispered, “For a minute I thought the Most High might have sent us another prophet. The Dragon’s eyes do the same thing when he delivers a message.”
The Creator worked in mysterious ways, but the homeless man had seemed confused and lost afterward. A far cry from a prophet who knew they were chosen to deliver the words of the divine.
As the man sat down and tucked into his meal, I couldn’t shake the words the he’d uttered to me. Something in the pit of my stomach told me to remember them.
***
After half an hour, Mike nudged me and said, “Your pot is almost empty.”
While Gloria and Xing Fei cleaned up the kitchen, Mika and I had taken over pouring soup.
“What?” I glanced down and found barely another serving left in it. “Oh no!”
We were doing the right thing here, focusing on the people that needed help and offering it to them. I had been so absorbed by the task of feeding these people, basking in their smiles, their delight at the meals and the love shown to them. Truly a beautiful experience to be a part of.
Even Zak seemed to have forgotten about wanting to maintain his distance. He’d been drawn out of the kitchen and was now making jokes with Uri, occasionally offering a smile to the homeless. When one man with a shaggy beard came up to thank Zak, trying to hug him, the angel shoved a fifty dollar note his way.
“Alright mate,” Zak said, waving the money to keep the man at bay.
“You’re a goo
d man.” The man clapped Zak on the back and the angel flinched.
“Don’t spoil my bad boy reputation, man.” Zak winked as the man took his money and shuffled over to a table and sat down, a huge smile on his face.
An incredible sense of achievement filled me. Look what good we’d done today, even if it was on a small scale compared to the extent of the darkness. We’d lifted the spirits of a small group of men and women. Xing Fei and Gloria had given the homeless a safe place to rest their weary bones, allowed them kind company, and relieved them of their worry of where to find their next meal.
I realized that Uri had been right in his assessment of how to beat Lucifer. This war wasn’t just about cutting away the darkness from the demons. It was about sharing acts of kindness, generosity, and selflessness with the humans.
“This is nothing short of a miracle,” Gloria said, coming to us with watery eyes. “We didn’t have enough food for even a quarter of those people. And somehow, you four showed up at the right time. What a blessing!”
I watched two homeless men guffawing as they exited the building. Only one remained at the tables. The man who had spoken to me. He clicked his pen repeatedly and bent over, recording more notes. A curiosity rose in me to approach him and read what he’d written.
“We were just in the right place at the right time,” Uri said with a smile.
The others nodded. Even Zak smiled as if pleased with himself for once. His enjoyment of the afternoon meant the most to me considering the disgust he’d expressed at the prospect of coming here. What a change.
“Thank you.” Gloria took my hand and patted it. “God bless you. You’re heaven sent.”
Oh, if only she knew.
Uri and I exchanged a smile as we prepared to leave the soup kitchen, and for the first time since I’d arrived on Earth, I felt like we had truly made a difference. Freeing the demons of Lucifer’s infection had been all well and good, but helping the humans who needed it most was even more fulfilling.
As we approached the exit, the odd homeless man rushed over to me, grabbing my hand and depositing a scrunched-up note into it.
Mike’s shoulders snapped back, and he stepped forward. My every-ready protector.
“Read it,” the man mumbled.
I opened the letter and read it aloud. “Stop the angel’s blood.” I stared at the man; his gaze darted between me and my companions. “What does this mean?”
Before I could get an answer, his head flinched again and his eyes flashed. He scurried away as if frightened.
Alarmed by his behavior, I tucked the note in my pocket and left the building. Outside on the street, the man had already disappeared. I scanned the traffic and parked cars but saw no sign of where he’d gone.
The other angels crowded beside me.
“What the hell was that about?” Zak asked.
“I don’t know,” I answered.
We walked in silence for a while. The men did not banter back and forth. We were all caught up in our thoughts. Mine were stuck, not on the wonderful blessing we had delivered, but on the strange man and his odd message. Chilled by the encounter, I pulled my coat tighter around my waist.
The sun shone down even brighter than before, and I smiled, tipping my head up to it. In the distance, beyond Uri’s influence over the city, the clouds threatened rain. I basked in the warmth, needing it to chase away my unease from the man’s warning.
“Uri look.” I pointed at the sunny sky.
“What the hell is going on?” Zak muttered.
“I think that’s because of us,” Uri said. “Because of the good deeds we did today.”
Mike’s eyes widened, and he pressed his hands to his chest, finger’s splayed. Now he couldn’t deny it.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Zak said. “We’ve been doing good things like freeing rats from the infestation for a long time, and this never happened before.”
“Maybe it’s because we did it together,” I suggested. “We are stronger when we’re together. Our proximity amplifies our strength. Perhaps good deeds done as a group will lift the darkness more often.”
Uri nodded. “Worth a shot. Seriously, that beautiful sky is almost what Sterling City used to look like before the darkness engulfed it.”
9
Jophiel
We looked around, enjoying the sunshine and brightness. Uri finally had proof for his theory to show Mike. The leader gaped up at the miracle, lost for words.
“We should do this more often,” I suggested.
Uri nodded. To my surprise, so did Zak. The comment he’d made earlier to the homeless man, about ruining his bad boy reputation, rang in my ears. Did he portray that image on purpose to make people think he didn’t care? But inside he really did. When we’d talked in the motel, he’d expressed his desire to help the humans, telling me he hadn’t lost all his compassion. His lack of it made him insensitive and callous sometimes, but deep inside he still had a heart. If he truly despised the humans, he would never have come with us today. I smiled, knowing we’d chipped away a layer of the armor he wore to shut the world out.
Today had been beyond enjoyable. I’d forgotten about the shooting yesterday and taken a step towards overcoming my fear of sharp objects.
“So long as we can play more eighties ballads.” Uri laughed at his own joke.
“Rock songs,” Zak corrected him.
“Deal.” Uri shook his hand and they laughed.
Mike thrust himself into the middle of the conversation, but not with a fun response that would have complimented it. “Despite the reward for doing something nice for the humans. It’s not going to last very long.”
I deflated. There he went again, bursting everyone’s enthusiasm.
“If that were the case,” he added, “the world would not be drowning in darkness. Doing good deeds is wonderful if this is the outcome, but it will take much more to win the war than feeding a few hungry mouths.”
“Why not?” I glanced up at the sky again, blazing with sunlight as dazzling as when I’d landed in Shell Cove. “If the darkness lifts for a while, if the people we served are fulfilled, it’s worth it.”
We were angels. It was only natural for us to do good deeds. While we had succumbed to the human habits and vices, embracing lifestyles that were very different than the lives we had once lived, there was still time to change that. We could still make a difference, shed the darkness, and defeat its source.
Who said we couldn’t embrace the light? That’s what we had been created to do. Angels were beings of energy, and we could bring a little of that force to the world. Lucifer be damned. The aftermath of our actions was immediate. The proof was all around us. And if that was the case, there was no reason not to continue helping others, to alternate fighting with doing the right thing.
Mike’s cell phone beeped, and he pulled it from his jacket pocket, reading the blazing screen. “It’s not enough,” he said, putting a light hand on my back. “We’d need thousands of angels to achieve that.”
I shook him off, refusing to accept what he thought. “No. We just need to keep doing what we’re doing: spreading the love and cheer. We need to alleviate people’s darkness with kindness.”
“Admirable.” Zak’s cold hand cupped my cheek, but it warmed up from the inferno blazing beneath my skin. “But that ain’t gonna kill Luc.”
I wanted to argue with them both, tell him that it defeated Lucifer, even if only by a pin point, but Mike’s voice called for our attention.
“Everyone,” he announced, “I’ve received word from one of our contacts who has some information about Raff.”
This called to mind the list of names and phone numbers that the Nephilim had given to me before I’d left Shell Cove. I wondered if Mike’s contact was one of those believers who fought for our cause and supplied information or places to stay.
“He’s agreed to meet,” Mike continued. “It’s a matter of urgency because he has to leave tomorrow on business.”
“Zak, you’re coming with me,” Mike commanded, putting away his cell phone. “Uri, stay with Jojo.”
“Roger that, general.” Zak stood straighter and pressed the edge of a flat hand to his forehead.
“Smartass,” Mike mumbled. Out the corner of my eye, I noticed him glance at me, his expression a mixture of concern and urgency to leave. I was still cross with him over his doubt and incredulity and didn’t meet his gaze.
“We’ll be back later this afternoon,” Mike advised the group.
He and Zak left Uri and I standing there on the street. We watched as they crossed an intersection, then vanished around the corner, heading back to Uri’s apartment.
“Come on,” Uri announced. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“A surprise?” I cocked an eyebrow. “What is it?”
“Nice try, bad girl.” He crossed his arms over his trim, but sculpted chest. His secretive grin and words intrigued me. “You’re not getting any hints out of me.”
“Fine,” I grumbled, grabbing one of his arms and yanking it down. “Surprise me then.”
“I’ll be happy to.” He linked arms with me to lead the way.
We walked around the city, drinking the additional sunlight supplied by our good deed at the soup kitchen. Humans emerged from their homes, their businesses, coffee stores, everywhere, to admire it too. Some pointed and gasped. Others held out their arms, twisting in circles, delighting in the light. One woman carried out a beach chair—that kind people used at Shell Cove—and she sat on it, rolling up her sleeves, basking in the delicious warmth of the sun.
“It’s making a difference,” Uri said. “My light was bright, but it was never this warm.”
“Yes, it is,” I replied. “But why didn’t you say something to Mike?”
Uri drew a long breath. “There’s no point in arguing with a blind man.”
I thought about his words as we strode down the street. Why did he think Mike blind? To what? The effect of light over the darkness? To our hard work and dedication?
