by Lori Aisling
“I know that feeling,” he growled. “Now go. Both of you.”
Metatron began to speak and I raised my hand. “I. Said. GO!” The voice that left me was not my own- it couldn’t be. It was raspy, grating, and soaked in venomous anger. All three angels took a step back, eyes wide, and alarm colored their faces as a blinding, moss-green glow saturated the air, twisting around Metatron and Jophiel before ejecting them from my realm, their bodies twisting through the air as they faded from my sight. It wasn’t enough, it did little to soothe the angst I felt towards them. When the glow faded, I saw only Jeremiel remained, looking rather frightened.
“I’m sorry, Jer. I won’t harm you, I promise. But they needed to go, or I was going to do something worse,” I mumbled, as my shoulders slumped and I turned and walked back towards the kitchen. “Please, come in.”
“I should not have allowed them to come with me. It is I that should apologize, Amara. I didn’t realize the extent of bitterness Jophiel harbors towards you. I-”
“I know. You love her. I can see it. It’s tragic, to be sure. She will never return your devotion, I’m afraid. I hope you know that.”
The archangel stared at his feet and picked an invisible piece of lint off his suit jacket before his ice blue eyes rose to meet mine. “I want a love like you had with Cal. I know few ever experience it, and seeing you now, I question my unwavering desire for it. I will do anything I can to help you, as I cannot even fathom what you are feeling.”
With shaking hands, I topped off my lukewarm coffee and handed him a cup before walking into the living room. I motioned for him to be seated as I wrangled the emotions that constantly threatened to strangle me. I know he was trying to be understanding, but I was so raw.
Changing the topic to the reason for our meeting, I got straight to the point. “Tell me about what you and Joe overheard, and I mean everything, regardless of how insignificant it may seem.”
Hidden Agendas
Settling into the overstuffed cushions on the cream-colored sofa, he took a sip of coffee before beginning. “Jophiel asked me to accompany her for a morning beverage. I met her at the cafe, and the place was quite full. We conversed for only a few minutes before I noticed her watching something over my shoulder. I asked her if there was a problem, and she nodded her head in that direction, leaned over to me, and said that they were talking about Callon. She said she heard his name. I reclined in the chair just a bit to attempt to overhear their conversation. From what I could clearly glean from amongst the chatter, was a group of Timeless, from both factions, had uncovered a text that proved Death could be captured and held. Using this manuscript, they supposedly created some kind of vessel that could siphon his power long enough to fuel their cause.”
“And what might the cause be? If it were beings from both sides, who’s to decide where the power would be used?”
“From what I could gather, it sounded like full-on mutiny, Amara. Like a complete plan to do away with Heaven and Hell, establishing a new reigning power to control all souls, regardless of assignment.”
“Like a centralized government. A member from each party holds fifty percent of the power. Something like that?
“I guess? It was only a few minutes of conversation. I can’t stress enough how incredibly sorry I am I didn’t do more. I should have confronted them. I should have at least brought the information to my Lord and informed him of this plan. But as we mentioned when we came to you, the Cherubim are a scrappy lot. They love to bait the demons. They are not above clandestine type schemes with the sole purpose of removing demons from their cycle. It’s been done a million times over the eons, and I honestly thought that was all it was.The only thing that gave me pause was the mention of Cal. It wasn’t anything I ever heard of before.”
“You have never heard of any kind of spell, place, item...anything that could be used to incapacitate Death?”
“Never. He was designed to be the ultimate counterbalance. His presence was decided and absolute. The only ‘loophole’, I guess you could call it, would be if he bonded to another Timeless. I know that is why Joe pursued him so heavily. Her heart was in the right place; she has full loyalty to the Light. I feel that she honestly believed that bonding with Callon would give us the strength needed to defeat the Dark. Her, and many of the others, simply don’t understand that we need both factions. I agreed with Callon, and you, that one side cannot exist without the other. Sadly, we are a minority with that belief.”
I sipped my brew, contemplating what the gentle angel just said. “If these cherubim and seraphim found a secret way to enslave Death, then that means two things. One: he’s not dead. Two: If they can find it, so can I. Did any of them say anything about who they were working with from the Dark?”
“They didn’t. But from the conversation, it was clear the other faction was indeed involved.”
“Since Callon has been taken, have you spoken with the Lord about this?”
Jeremiel quickly looked down to his lap. “No. I have not. Jophiel asked me not to.”
My blood heated and my desire to watch the gorgeous goddess burn at a stake took a front row seat in my mind. “Why? Is there a reason she wouldn’t want him saved and returned to his duties? Jer, please tell me that you aren’t so blinded by your lust you are unable to see how incriminating this makes her appear!”
“Trust me, I’ve had all day to think about this. I am concerned, and I don’t know what to believe anymore, Amara. She said we needed to wait and see how this played out, it was most likely nothing of importance and Callon was strong enough to return on his own. She said if we tattled on the underlings it could cause even more divisions in Heaven. The last few hundred years have been rife with contention. The cherubim and seraphim feel they should be able to ascend as archangels at some point, but the system isn’t designed that way. The last ascentions were Sandy and Metatron and to this day, no one knows why the Lord brought them to his side. That is what started the angst, and it has been growing steadily ever since.”
“So basically, there is a labor war going on in Heaven, and obviously in Hell, and Callon is merely collateral damage. This isn’t a plan to tip the scales at all! It’s a plan to completely destroy the afterlife.” My blood chilled at the revelation.
“I’m afraid so. That is the only conclusion I can come to, also.”
“One more question: How often do you meet at this cafe with Joe for morning drinks?”
“Joe goes most days. She said the juice has some rare papaya-like fruit from one of the destructed realms in it and it’s one of her vices. It’s been months since I joined her. Why?”
“I know you are always honest, Jer. It’s your trait. So I will not disrespect you, or your loyalty, by being less than forthcoming. I don’t believe her story. I don’t trust that it was a simple coincidence. I think she wanted you to overhear the conversation, and she knew that you would be honest about it. I think she is using you, and I am worried for you.”
God’s Angel of Mercy and Hope stared at the empty mug and I could feel his distress. “I can’t believe that. I can’t,” he repeated.
“You two said yourselves there must be more powerful Timeless involved. I will not pass judgement on her until I know for sure, I promise. However, we know that in order to multiply the power of any being, it takes a bond. If not Jophiel, then who? Would any of the archangels bond themselves to a higher-ranking member of Lucifer’s army?”
“Oh, for the love of all that has been created, I would hope not! I can’t even fathom it. I won’t deny that Joe’s obsession with Callon was extreme, even for her. She pursued him relentlessly. But Callon was- is, a good man, and I can’t imagine her turning her back on the Light.”
Remembering the conversation Callon and I had with her on the day we confessed our love for one another, I did specifically remember feeling that although she was a manipulative bitch, her dedication to the Light seemed quite sincere. “Who else then?”
“There are fifteen archangels, as you
know. I have known them forever, literally. Other than Sandy and Metatron who ascended later, but still, that was centuries ago. Ariel is dedicated only to the lesser souls: animals and base creatures from less populated and destructed realms. She seems to care not about any of the squabbling between the factions. I have never even heard her mention it in casual conversation. She genuinely doesn’t care. I feel confident that we can rule her out immediately.”
“So you are saying as we go down this list, there could be one or more that you would consider?”
“I don’t know if I would go that far. Let’s just say there are a few that I might see as a bit more ‘fractious’ than the rest of us.”
“Metatron?”
“For one, obviously. Raziel would be another. His greatest gift is knowledge. By nature, he ‘knows it all’,” Jer said, using air quotes. “I have never felt that he is untrustworthy, but if we are talking about a hidden secret to remove Death, Raz would be top of my list.” He grabbed the back of his neck with both hands, squeezing as he looked at me with sad eyes. “Can I think about this for a while, Amara? What you are asking me is beyond any conversation I ever thought I would have. I need to take some time. I need to go to God with what I overheard in the cafe, pray for guidance, and remove my emotional state from this task.”
“I understand. I’ll be leaving here shortly. I have business to attend to in the mortal realm and it’s easier if I am there. Besides, I am not able to be here for long periods of time without him; I’m just not ready.”
“Can I reach out to you in a few days?”
“Of course. I’ll be in Morocco. When you arrive, give me a call and we will meet wherever you like.”
Standing and straightening his jacket, he extended his hand to me. I took it and he placed it to his lips. “You are a good woman, Amara. Callon is lucky to have you on his side. I will not let you down, and I promise to be there for you in whatever fashion I’m able.”
“Thank you,” I replied as I walked him to the door. As he started to leave, I remembered something and called out to him. “Jer!”
“Yes?”
“Do you know anything about rapeseed oil?”
“Umm. Yes? The cooking oil?”
“Yeah. Is there anything special about it?”
“Well, I believe it is healthy for mortal humans if processed correctly, and it’s used in environmentally friendly biofuels, I think. Why?”
“No reason. Just curious.”
He nodded, gave me a curious, but sweet smile, and vanished into a flash of bright, golden light.
This Might Sting a Little
With my business sorted, it was time to head back to the realm I used to call home. I needed to pack a small bag, yet I dreaded going into the bedroom I shared with my love. I wasn’t ready and it evoked so much emotion, but there were a few things I needed, and I refused to leave without them.
With a heavy heart, I entered the master suite. I pulled the tote from our closet and hurriedly shoved a few changes of clothes in the spacious bag. Walking back over to our bed, I picked up Callon’s t-shirt from where I left it, folded neatly. My hands shook as I brought the cotton to my face and his scent assaulted my memories. God, I missed him. Placing it gently on the top of the bag, I then opened the drawer to the nightstand on my side, and pulled out a stack of perfectly creased stationary. These were the penned notes he would leave on his pillow when he left before I awoke. He joked about me saving them, saying after enough time passed, we would have to dedicate a room to storing them. I didn’t care- I wanted every single one. They meant more to me than any gift he ever bestowed upon me. Now that he was gone, their value was priceless. I placed a stack of them on top of the t-shirt and zipped the tote closed.
There was only one other gift that meant more. Walking to the mirror in the closet, I pulled up my hoodie and turned so I could see my back. Our binding mark. The intricate infinity symbol branded me as his. I will own you, Amara. You will be mine. For eternity. His words were like the warmest caress whispered in my mind and I closed my eyes, remembering the way the deep purr of his voice could soothe and excite me simultaneously.
It was still there, but it was faded. I couldn’t tell if it’s lost more luster since the last time I looked, but I would probably deny it even so. It was infinitely my most precious possession- if you could call it that. It was my link to him. To me, it was proof he was still alive. It might have faded, but it wasn’t gone. That told me maybe he was far away; perhaps held prisoner on an abandoned realm. Or injured, somehow. If the plan Jer overheard was indeed valid, he could be alive, but weak as they siphoned his power. The thought made me wheezy, but hurt wasn’t dead, and he could heal. I only needed to find him.
Giving the room one last look, I allowed myself a moment of weakness by letting my mind drift to the past. Remembering his embrace, the feel of his flesh against mine, the fire in his eyes, and his commitment to me. His love washed over me and I shuddered feeling the tears burning as my vision blurred. Squaring my shoulders, I pushed the pain back and let the familiar bite of my anger take its place. I would find him, and I will end every single being involved in the plot that took him from me. I left the room, grabbing the bottle of rapeseed oil on the way through the kitchen, and stepped onto the busy streets in Morocco.
Callon and I stayed here numerous times. The beautiful villa we owned was outside the city of Casablanca and I found myself choosing this place for us to relax and enjoy our lives more and more frequently. The gentleman Callon employed to caretake was reliable, thorough, and respected our privacy. I decided to rent a car, opting to live as ‘normal’ of an existence as possible when outside of my home realm. While I waited for the vehicle, I wandered into the nearby coffee shop, remembering the cafe cassis was one of the finest I ever had the pleasure of enjoying.
Placing my order, I saw a large tray of krachel being carried to the display case. Their aroma filled the air and suddenly, I realized it was several days since I ate. My stomach rumbled as the sweet smell of bread and the anise seed used in the traditional sweet rolls flavored the air. Adding two of them to my order, I placed the requested currency on the counter right as the buzzing of my cell phone interrupted my plans of coffee and a snack.
Seeing the name on my caller ID, I quickly answered the call. “Kyle.”
“Ms. Rush. You requested a call in the event of another intruder. We have one. I told my men to hold back until I spoke with you. I’m not sure how much good it’s going to do, though, based on the location of the intruder.”
“Where is he, Kyle?”
“He’s in Callon’s private villa- in Morocco.”
Leaving the money on the counter and abandoning my order, I raced from the cafe and down the street, looking for a crowd of people to disappear into. “Hold your men back! Don’t do anything. I’ll call you soon.”
I disconnected the call the moment I slipped into a throng of eager sight-seers, their cameras clicking away, capturing the architecture of the ancient city. The next instant, I was standing in front of the stone and clay brick villa. Anger flooded my veins; the intrusion of this place where I shared so many intimate times with my love felt like such a violation.
The fury fed me its addictive seed and I could feel the power I held throbbing through my body. I let my intent and sway flood the area; Kyle and his team would see nothing but an empty house. Silently, I entered the home, and crossed the tile floors to the entrance of the bedroom. My eyes narrowed on the male intruder; his back was to me as he creeped through the room, listening carefully.
“Hey, fucker. You lookin’ for me?”
The man spun around, his head held at a strange angle and recognition settled in his eyes. He wasted no time, turning to run, no doubt to leap back to the realm he came from. I shoved my palm in his direction, and his body slammed against the stone wall, facefirst. I held him there, my intent clear in my mind and I twisted him around to face me.
I approached him, cocking my head to t
he side as I assessed this strange beast. I assumed from Kyle’s descriptions, and the videos I saw, these were demons possessing mortals. I guessed the jerky movements and odd head tilt was a product of Lucifer’s lower-power wards not well trained in moving amongst the living. I was wrong about that. This was no demon, this was a condemned soul: One of the wretched, once reaped, escorted by the guides to the gates, only to be incarcerated for their mortal crimes in Hell’s prison. It might sound cliché, but it existed, and it made Levenworth look like a walk in the park. The blackest, most evil of souls were incarcerated there serving their time, sometimes for centuries, until given another chance at a mortal life, or until Lucifer deemed them good enough for his ranks and ‘promoted’ them to demon status.
The condemned took the form of their most recent mortal life once they began their sentence. They weren’t human any more, and the longer they were jailed, the less human they began to appear. This soul was already tormented for quite some time, judging from his erratic twitching and eyes completely void of any humanity at all. These souls were not let out to wander free- ever. Someone very powerful, and very stupid, let them out. But for what purpose? I was ready to find out and the thought caused my thirst for vengeance to trickle the now-familiar tingles of pleasure along my nerves.
“Where are you going? I mean, ya just got here, right? That would be rude to just ‘do drop in’ and not stick around for a chat.”
The soul twitched, his black eyes filled with hatred, and the sour rot of evil. “Die. Death. Die. Death. Die.”
“That’s clever. You’re really eloquent, but I’m going to need more than that. What are you doing here, who sent you, and to where were you taking off in such a hurry?”
“Die. Death. Die. Death. Die. Death.”
His monotonous chant pissed me off. Grabbing him by the throat, I slammed his body against the wall a few times, holding him with my intent before screaming again, “Who fucking sent you! Where is Callon?!”
