The Soul Destroyer: The Soul Summoner Series Book 7

by Hyder, Elicia

  “They’re snakes,” Azrael corrected me.

  “Really? They don’t look like snakes.”

  Reuel chuckled. “Mat ene Azrael yat vorai.”

  I laughed, and Azrael held up his middle finger.

  “What’d he say?” Nathan asked.

  “He said, ‘Only because Azrael can’t draw.’” I laughed again.

  “The point is”—Azrael overemphasized his words—“the mark is only visible to other Angels of Death. It’s not even commonly known in Eden—much less on Earth. It certainly isn’t found in a Google search.”

  “The last one, the girl we found this morning, was young. Still a teenager, maybe.”

  Reuel’s hands clenched into fists. He hated violence against women and children most of all.

  Nathan leaned forward to look around Ionis at me. “That’s a punishable-by-Nulterra offense, right?”

  “You’d better believe it is. Our deal with Nulterra was actually created with those who hurt children in mind.”

  “What deal?” he asked.

  Ionis’s head tilted. “You’re cute, but not too bright.”

  “He’s very bright. He’s just been on a need-to-know basis,” Azrael said.

  Nathan whimpered and dramatically put his hand over his heart. “Az, that may be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  “You’d better write that shit down somewhere, Mr. McNamara,” Ionis said.

  “How do you know my name?” Nathan asked.

  Ionis just sighed and rolled his eyes. He looked at me. “Is this guy for real?”

  I ignored him and looked over at Nate. “When the Morning Star and his followers were kicked out of Eden, the Morning Star created Nulterra. From what we know, its main energy source comes from the destruction of human souls, much like the way nuclear energy is created by splitting atoms.”

  Nathan cringed. “Geez.”

  “In the beginning, they were taking souls straight from Earth to the pit,” I said.

  “How? Aren’t there rules against them messing with humans?” Nathan asked.

  Ionis cocked an eyebrow. “Ever heard of selling your soul to the devil?”

  “No shit?”

  “No shit,” Ionis said.

  “But we put a stop to it quickly,” Azrael said.

  I nodded. “Azrael’s idea was to furnish the Morning Star with the souls of the ultra wicked in exchange for the gate from Earth being sealed and completely hidden.”

  At the top of the ultra-wicked list were pedophiles, and it brought me comfort knowing the first ever human I’d killed was rotting away in Hell.

  If anyone deserved damnation, it was Charlie Lockett.

  “Why would they agree to that?” Nathan asked.

  “Because except for the Morning Star, the fallen were once again allowed to travel via the spirit line. Never back through the Eden Gate, but they could travel to and from Nulterra and throughout the Earth,” Azrael said.

  Nathan frowned. “Didn’t you think about the consequences of that? Now I have to worry about baby snatchers across different dimensions.”

  Azrael didn’t bother to respond. We all knew it was a problem.

  The GPS was telling Azrael to turn left. Looking out the windshield, I saw the name on the mailbox we were passing: McNamara.

  “Is this your parents’ place?” I asked Nathan.

  “Yep. This is home sweet home.”

  The two-story farmhouse came into view at the end of the long gravel driveway. The white house had a covered wraparound porch and a tall stone chimney that was billowing gray smoke.

  My heart ached at the sight. I was supposed to have visited here with Sloan. She’d always talked about how much she loved it. About how at home she’d felt under the McNamara’s roof. Now, the same place that had quickly become a second home to her was a glaring reminder of how great an alien I was.

  The wheels rolled to a stop on the loose gravel. Azrael put the SUV in park. “Warren, you and Ionis stay here until the McNamaras are gone.”

  Nathan pointed around the left side of the house. “You’ll see them leave in a silver Jeep. I’ll hurry them along. Reuel, you can come inside with us. We told them you might be at the hospital.”

  Reuel looked back at me for my blessing.

  “We’ll see you inside.” I pointed at him. “Save me a plate.”

  He smiled.

  When they left, Ionis slid into Nathan’s vacated seat. “Long time no see, Warren.”

  I scowled. “I saw you this morning.”

  “Yes, but that was like a month ago for me.”

  “It’s not like you felt it,” I reminded him.

  He laid his white head back against the headrest. “But I felt it when I got here. Ugh.”

  I pulled the photo book Nathan had given me from the bag at my feet. I knew exactly what he meant.

  Chapter Five

  Nathan’s mom had cooked a turkey. A full Thanksgiving spread, really, with dressing, green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, and fresh-baked biscuits. Apparently, it was Nathan’s favorite meal.

  The house was exactly like I imagined it. Warm, cozy, inviting. It smelled like the holidays and happiness. Family pictures covered the walls, and children’s artwork covered the fridge. Etched into the wooden doorframe between the kitchen and dining room were lines marking different heights. Each line had its own name and date. Chuck, 2-8-1983. Lara, 11-17-1987. Nathan, 1-06-1988. Ashley, 9-16-1989.

  Ionis was looking into the curio cabinet against the wall. “Nathan, is this you?”

  Nathan carried his plate over to see where Ionis was pointing. “Yep. Halloween, 1989. Even back then I wanted to be a cop. Mom made the costume.”

  I looked over Ionis’s shoulder. In the photo, Nathan was dressed in a black police officer’s uniform and proudly holding a plastic jack-o’-lantern. He was missing his two front teeth. “Do you miss it?”

  “Halloween? The biggest candy holiday of the year? Always.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Police work.”

  He sighed and walked back to the stove. “Yeah. Don’t get me wrong. I love my life now and wouldn’t change it for anything, but I miss it.” He handed me an empty plate. “Eat up, brother.”

  Reuel pulled both legs off the bird and laid them across the piles of food heaped onto his plate. When he saw me eyeing him, he picked one of them back up and offered it to me.

  “No thanks, buddy,” I said with a smile. “Where’s Az?”

  “Upstairs with Adrianne,” Nathan answered, plucking two rolls from the bread basket.

  “This is a great house, Nate.” I scooped up a spoonful of potatoes.

  Ionis was in line behind me. “It’s so Leave it to Beaver.”

  I chuckled. It really was.

  We carried our plates into the dining room, and Nathan passed around a glass pitcher full of sweet iced tea. Azrael walked in just as we started to eat. “Adrianne will be down in a little while. She’s resting. Nate, when should we expect your parents to return?”

  “I asked Dad to send me a text message when they are leaving the hospital.”

  “Thank you,” Azrael said.

  Nathan pointed a dinner roll toward the kitchen. “Az, go make yourself a plate. There’s plenty of food.”

  “I’ll eat with Adrianne.” Azrael pulled out the chair at the head of the table and sat down. “We need to figure out how to determine the identity of the Morning Star, otherwise it will be a long wait until the child comes of age and names itself.”

  “How long does it usually take?” Nathan asked.

  “The Morning Star isn’t usual, but if we’re talking averages…thirteen years, give or take. It’s different for all of us.”

  “You were thirteen or fourteen, weren’t you?” I asked.

  He straightened, surprise widening his eyes. “How did you know that?”

  I reached across the table and hooked my finger around the chain encircling his neck. I pulled the blood stone from under his co
llar.

  He clenched it in his hand. “Of course.” Then his eyes narrowed. “Someday, you and I need to have a long father-to-son talk about all you learned from my memories in the blood stone.”

  I smiled. “You’ve had some fun times, haven’t you?”

  If my father had been a blusher, he’d have turned beet red. Instead, a thin but loaded smile was fixed on his normally-stern face. “Son, you have no idea.” He tucked the necklace back into his shirt.

  “Better not let Adrianne hear you say that,” I said.

  On the other side of me, Reuel chuckled.

  Azrael’s blood stone had been given to me when I became the Archangel of Death, the day my daughter was born. It contained most of his memories from the spiritual world and his few thousand years on Earth. They were colorful, to say the least. The memories had faded some for me now that I’d returned the necklace to him, but a few would be forever scarred in my mind.

  “Why can’t ‘the Father’”—Nathan actually used air quotes—“identify the child?”

  “He could, if he was in Eden,” I said, skewering a forkful of green beans. “The Father has been on Earth since he brought Sloan back from the dead.”

  “Really?” Nathan asked.

  “That’s what I hear. I may have to hunt him down though and get him to go back home. He’s all but powerless here.”

  Nathan looked worried. “God is powerless?”

  “By his own design. He never wanted to be tempted to rule the Earth,” Azrael explained.

  “That’s why we were sent here to help humanity,” Ionis added.

  Azrael smiled. “Some of us are more helpful than others.”

  Ionis leaned on the table. “I’d like to remind you that you’re no longer helpful to anyone.”

  “Ooo,” Reuel said with a grin.

  Azrael moved to get up, but I used my power to hold him in his chair. “Can we please stay on topic here? You two can kill each other later when such important matters aren’t pressing.”

  Azrael glared at him.

  “Are Metatron or Sandalphon powerful enough to identify the child?” Ionis asked.

  I put my fork down and looked at Azrael. “That’s a very good question. Are they?”

  “I remember Sandalphon, the creepy old guy who could see the future, but who’s Metatron again?” Nathan asked, squinting like he was getting a headache from so much information.

  “He’s another angel similar to Iliana and Sandalphon, except he’s both Angel of Life and Angel of Ministry. If you think of spirit beings in a hierarchy, the Father is at the very top, then Iliana, then Metatron and Sandalphon, and then all the rest of us.” I turned back to Az. “Do you think it’s possible?”

  Azrael was considering it. Possibly trying to come up with a way to admit Ionis might be right, without admitting Ionis might be right. “We’ve never had to do this before, so I really don’t know. It would be worth asking either of them to try. Think you can find them?”

  “I can try. Sandalphon should be present at the reading of the Council’s verdict. But Metatron…I don’t even know where to start looking.”

  In all the time I’d spent in Eden, I still hadn’t met the guy. But Eden was an infinite place, so that wasn’t saying a whole lot. There were plenty of people I hadn’t met yet that I wanted to, like General Douglas MacArthur and Elvis.

  “Getting him to help might be a tougher matter than finding him. And finding him will be hard.” Azrael pointed at Ionis. “You could aid him with the search.”

  It was true. The messengers were like the gossip hub of the heavenlies.

  “Maybe, but you must ask me nicely,” Ionis said, smiling over the rim of his glass.

  Azrael ignored him. “So, Warren, what’s your plan for taking Fury to Nulterra?”

  I sighed and shook my head. “I would appreciate your help, Ionis. Please.”

  Ionis put his hand on my arm. “For you, I’d do anything.”

  “See, I didn’t have to be nice,” Azrael said, grinning. He reached over to Reuel’s plate and stole one of his extra rolls. Reuel’s mouth dropped open, but Azrael smiled and bit into it.

  “Why can’t the other Angels of Death help you find him?” Nathan asked. “Aren’t you their boss?”

  “Yeah, but they’re busy here. You don’t want a bunch of ghosts wandering the Earth, do you?”

  “Sure don’t,” Nathan said.

  “And they’re already working with reduced numbers as it is,” Ionis added.

  Azrael’s head pulled back. “Why?”

  Ionis pointed at me. “Because someone put them on a rotation to give them time off.”

  Azrael crossed his arms. “Really? How’s that working out?”

  “It’s been a few years in Eden now, and the world hasn’t fallen apart. Reuel even instituted the practice with the guardians.”

  Reuel nodded.

  “How did that go over with the Council?” Azrael asked.

  “They weren’t happy about it.”

  “I’ll bet they weren’t.” He chuckled. “You’re running the choir like a human.”

  “And it’s working just fine. It’s boosted morale for all of them.”

  Nathan grinned at Az. “Good god, he’s running Heaven like a Marine.”

  I lifted a shoulder.

  “Whatever he’s doing, it’s working. The death choir has never been more tolerable.” Ionis pointed his fork at Azrael. “Maybe if the practice had been instituted sooner, you wouldn’t be such an insolent colon ulcer.”

  Azrael started to get up, and again, I held him still.

  “I’m going to send you guys to the backyard. Have you two always been like this?” Nathan asked.

  “Since he was, unfortunately, created,” Azrael said with a grumble.

  Ionis winked at him. “You love me.”

  “Ionis, why are you even here? I doubt it was to tell me about the magic”—Azrael wiggled his fingers—“in Eden.”

  Ionis’s eyes popped open. “Right! I almost forgot. I have a gift for you.” He leaned to the side and pulled a small black box from his pocket.

  I recognized it. It was a trinket carrier designed to help small items survive across the spirit line. They were very rare. “Where’d you get that?”

  He handed the box to Azrael. “I have no idea. It was left for me at the Avronesh with explicit instructions to give it to Azrael.” Ionis looked at him across the table. “You’re supposed to open it when you’re alone.”

  “That’s strange,” I said. “Who would send you something from Eden?”

  “Your mother?” Az suggested.

  I shrugged and reached for the box. He put it in my hand, and I turned it over, looking at it. “Mom doesn’t have access to these. And she would have sent it by me if she did.”

  “Open it,” Nathan said, leaning toward me.

  “He can’t. Only Azrael can.” Ionis looked at him again. “And the instructions were clear. When you’re alone.”

  “So mysterious,” I said with a chuckle, handing it back to Az.

  Nathan nudged my arm. “Let me hold it. I’ve never seen anything from Heaven before.”

  Reuel reached over and shoved him, then gestured around to all of us angels sitting around the table.

  Nathan laughed as I gave him the box. “Besides you guys, of course.” He gazed into its shiny cover, then tapped its corner against the table. “What is it made of? Some kind of metal?”

  “They say the boxes are made of pure solidified darkness,” Ionis said.

  Nathan’s eyes widened. “Really?”

  Ionis’s face pinched with a smirk. “No.”

  Rolling his eyes, Nathan gave the box back to Azrael. “Are all angels assholes?”

  Reuel shook his head and raised his hand.

  Nathan pointed at him. “You, Reuel. You’re the only one.”

  Reuel winked at him.

  Azrael put the box in his pocket. “Warren, what’s your plan with Fury?” he asked, r
evisiting his earlier question.

  “We still don’t have a plan. No angel I’ve talked to can sense Anya’s spirit. Not in Eden. Not on Earth. They all think she was destroyed—”

  “Myself included,” Azrael said.

  I held up a finger. “But if Abaddon is dead and Anya is dead, why didn’t the mantle of the Archangel pass to Reuel?”

  “It didn’t?” Nathan asked.

  Reuel shook his head.

  “No, but it should have if Abaddon was destroyed without an heir.” I looked at my father. “Correct?”

  Azrael didn’t answer.

  “And Fury told me today that Anya was seen boarding a chartered yacht in Thailand four days after Abaddon attacked them,” I said.

  “Didn’t Fury tell us she saw Anya get dragged into Nulterra alive?” Nathan asked around the bite in his mouth.

  Azrael shook his head. “She didn’t see it herself. She’s believing the vision of a prophet.”

  He looked annoyed, probably because Azrael had never held much respect for the Angels of Prophecy. Or, come to think of it, most angels whose gifts were less concrete than the power to inflict death, give life, or strong-arm their adversaries (like Reuel).

  “Theta, the Archangel of Prophecy, showed Fury the vision of Anya being taken into Nulterra alive.” I looked at my father. “I believe her.”

  “I’ve known more than one prophet to twist the facts to suit their agendas,” he said.

  “Says the master of fact-twisting himself,” Nathan said with a smirk.

  “Preach,” Ionis said, holding his tea glass in the air.

  Azrael ignored them. “Who saw Anya boarding a yacht?”

  I skewered a bite of turkey with my fork. “Fury has had a team working for her since Anya disappeared three years ago. Two private investigators and one of the best hackers I’ve ever heard of.”

  “Who is it?” Nathan asked.

  “Somebody named Chimera,” I said.

  Azrael scoffed. “Nobody’s better than my staff.”

  Ionis laughed. “Oh, that’s hilarious.”

  “You don’t think so?” Azrael asked. He looked at me. “My team killed you off easily in every database on the planet, didn’t they?”

  “They did, but the word is, it was Chimera who hacked the National Data Bank in 2013.”