by Shuler, Tara
Malachai was collapsed onto his knees before the door. One hand barely held him up, and his arm shook violently, as though it might give out at any moment. The other hand lifted toward Beth, pleading for help. His head hung limply, as though he had no strength to hold it up, and Beth could see blood dripping down and staining the pale wood of the porch.
She bent down and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, hoisting him with all of her strength. Weakly, he stumbled across the threshold, and Beth closed the door behind him. He collapsed to the floor on hands and knees, unable to move further.
“Malachai, what happened?” she cried.
He tried to speak, but his voice came out as nothing more than a grunting gurgle. He panted and coughed, blood spattering onto the floor. Beth fell to her knees, putting one hand gently on his arm, and the other hand on his shoulder.
“What can I do? Please tell me how to help! I don’t know what to do!”
Once again, his arms began to tremble, and he nearly fell flat onto the floor. Beth wrapped her arms around him, attempting to keep him from falling, and he cried out in pain.
“Malachai,” she wailed. “What can I do?”
Finally, Malachai could stand no more. He fell limp in her arms, and with all her strength, she lowered him slowly to the floor. She turned him over, and then gasped aloud. His face was mangled and swollen. Blood oozed from his nose, dripped from his mouth, and even flowed from his eyes, which were swollen so badly they were bulbous and black. His hair was matted – crusted with blood. He had a large slash mark across his chest, which was deep and his skin peeled back and revealed part of the muscle underneath. The edges of the wound looked burned. Blood seeped down from the wound and began to soak through the cracks in the floorboards.
“God, please tell me what to do,” Beth prayed, her eyes closed tightly and tears squeezing from between them. “Please tell me what to do. I don’t know how to help him.”
She heard a scoff behind her. She looked to see Aztos staring down at Malachai in disgust.
“You think God would help you or him?” Aztos muttered.
“Did you do this to him?” Beth demanded, aghast at the mere possibility.
“What? I just got here!” Aztos argued.
“Please help him,” Beth begged. “I don’t know what to do for him. I’m afraid he’s going to die.”
Aztos glared at Malachai. For a moment, he thought he should just let the angel die. He hated him. He wanted him gone. He wanted him away from his wife. He wanted to kill the angel himself.
But a look into Beth’s pleading eyes spurred him into action. He lifted Malachai from the floor and carried him into the spare bedroom. Beth tore back the sheets, and Aztos laid him carefully on the bed.
“Call your mother,” Aztos demanded.
“My mother? Why?”
“Just do it! Tell her I’ll be there to get her in a moment, and she needs to come with me urgently.”
Beth raced into the kitchen and grabbed the phone. She dialed her mother’s number, and waited impatiently as it rang several times.
“Hello?” answered her mother.
“Mother?”
“Beth! Darling, how are you?”
“Mother, listen to me. I need you. It’s an emergency! Aztos is going to be there in just a moment, and I need you to come with him. With you do that?”
“Beth, what’s going on? Are you in trouble?” Sharon asked, her voice laced with concern.
“No, Mother. But please, just come with him, okay? Promise me!”
“Alright, I promise.”
“Thank you, Mom.”
Beth hung up the phone and dashed back to the spare bedroom. Aztos was already gone, and she sat beside Malachai and brushed his blood-crusted hair away from his face. Tears flowed down her cheeks, but she hardly noticed. A moment later, Aztos appeared with his hand on Sharon’s shoulder.
“Oh, my God!” Sharon gasped at the sight of Malachai. “What happened?”
“No time to explain,” Beth responded. “Can you help him?”
“Yes, yes,” Sharon said quickly. “I need alcohol, quickly!”
Beth nearly stumbled over her own feet racing to the bathroom. She fumbled through the medicine cabinet, knocking several items into the sink. There was no alcohol. She threw open the hallway closet and began tearing items out and tossing them to the floor. Finally, she located a bottle of alcohol. She was back in the spare room in a flash.
“Here, Mom,” she said, handing it to her mother.
“Pour it in his wound,” her mother directed, and Beth complied.
Sharon closed her eyes and placed her hands over the wound. She began to chant, and moments later, the wound sealed. She continue to chant for a few more moments, and then she opened her eyes and looked over at her daughter.
“There is nothing more I can do for him,” she said. “He needs rest, now. It may take him several days to recover, and I can’t promise he will. But I’ve cast a healing spell on him. It should help him heal faster.”
“Thank you, Mom!” Beth cried, hugging her mother tightly. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“Beth, who is this man? What happened to him?”
“His name is Malachai, and he’s a very good friend,” Beth explained. “I don’t know what happened. He showed up at the front door like this a little while ago.”
Sharon glared icily at Aztos.
“I suppose you have no idea what happened,” Sharon commented.
“I was not here when it happened,” Aztos said.
“Mm-hmm,” Sharon muttered, clearly disbelieving. “Listen to me, demon. I don’t like you. I don’t trust you. And if you ever do anything like this to my daughter, I’ll hunt you down and kill you myself. Is that clear?”
“I would never harm Elizabeth!” Aztos argued, appalled at the prospect.
“You better hope you’re telling the truth,” Sharon growled.
Sharon cast one last look at Malachai, and then she turned to her daughter. She placed her hands gently on Beth’s cheeks and looked deep into her eyes.
“If you ever need me for anything, I’m a phone call away,” Sharon told her. “Night or day, you call and I will be here.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Beth said. “I… I love you.”
“I love you, too, darling,” Sharon whispered, hugging Beth tenderly. “Alright, demon, take me home.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Aztos said, and with a hand on her shoulder, they disappeared.
Beth turned back to Malachai. The wound in his chest was closed, but still red and swollen. His other wounds were intact, and he looked at the edge of death. She shook her head sadly.
“Who did this to you?” Beth asked, knowing she could not receive a response. “How is this even possible? I’ll be right back, Malachai.”
Beth grabbed a bowl from the kitchen and filled it with warm water. She located a sponge, and headed back into the spare bedroom. Aztos was already there, sitting in a chair.
Beth placed the sponge into the bowl of water and set the bowl on the nightstand beside the bed. She walked over to Aztos and sat in his lap, putting her arms lovingly around his neck.
“Thank you, Aztos,” she whispered.
“I wanted to let him die,” Aztos admitted, his voice dark and brooding. “I saw him lying there, and I… I wanted to kill him, myself. I wanted to tear his heart out.”
“But you didn’t,” Beth comforted him.
“Only because you were here,” Aztos said.
“I don’t believe that,” Beth told him. “I believe you would have done the right thing.”
“He’s an angel, Elizabeth. The right thing for me would have been to kill him.”
Beth smiled. She wouldn’t argue with him, because she knew he couldn’t see what she saw. But she knew the truth. She kissed him lightly on the cheek, and squeezed his neck with affection.
“I’m going to clean him up,” Beth said.
She used the sponge and the bowl of water to
clean away as much of the blood as she could. Then she carefully cleaned his remaining scrapes and scratches with alcohol. Aztos watched stonily as his wife tenderly cared for the angel. He still wanted desperately to rip the angel’s heart from his body and crush it between his fingers. But he could not do that to her. It was infuriating.
“Alright, we should let him get some sleep,” Beth said, pulling the covers gently around Malachai and tucking him in.
Aztos left the room, followed closely by Beth, who took the bowl of water from the nightstand and switched the light off as she left. She wanted to stay by his side. She was afraid to leave him in his present condition. But she wanted to be with Aztos while he was home.
“Why did you come home when you did?” Beth asked Aztos. “I thought you were going to be away for a while.”
“I am not supposed to be home,” he admitted. “I came because I felt you were in distress.”
“You could feel that?” Beth gushed.
“I can always feel when you are having strong emotions, Elizabeth.”
“Really? Is that normal with demons and their spouses?”
“Not that I am aware of. I have never heard of a connection like that.”
“But you felt my emotion?”
“Yes. I thought you were in trouble, so I came home immediately.”
“So you have to leave again?” Beth lamented.
“I cannot stay. Believe me, I wish I could.”
It was true. Aztos was not happy to leave his wife home alone with the angel. It was bad enough that he had an angel in his house at all, but he felt a twinge of rage when he thought of leaving her alone with him.
“I wish you could stay,” Beth mourned, leaning her head against his chest.
He put his arm around her shoulder and said, “As do I. But I took a great risk coming home in the first place. I must go, now. I am sorry.”
“Wait!” Beth stopped him. “What could have done this to him? I thought there were only four weapons that could kill an angel, but he looks like he’s at the edge of death.”
“Yes, I did say that. But it is not only weapons that can kill, Elizabeth.”
“What does that mean?”
“As I have told you, there are things in the world far worse than demons. Perhaps he tangled with one of them. I really must go now.”
“I’ll see you soon,” Beth said.
He nodded, and then vanished.
Beth went to the kitchen and dumped the bloody water from the bowl. She dropped the bowl into the sink with a clang, and left it there. She didn’t have the energy to wash it.
She leaned back against the refrigerator and took a deep breath. At first, she thought she might be okay. Then, the realization of the events that had transpired hit her. Her shoulders began to shake, and the tears began to flow. She slid down against the door of the refrigerator, and sat down on the cold, hard floor of the kitchen. She pulled her knees up against her chest, and wrapped her arms around them. Her forehead rested on her knees, and she sobbed loudly.
A few moments later, she began to feel hot and shaky. She started to tremble, and it began to feel like her entire body was on fire.
“Malachai!” she gasped.
She struggled to get to her feet, though her head was pounding, and her blood felt like liquid fire coursing through her veins. She collapsed onto the bed beside Malachai, and she touched his forehead. It was so hot she almost thought she heard the sound of sizzling.
“Oh, no,” she groaned. “You’re burning up!”
She tried to get to her feet, but her knees wobbled. Using the nightstand for leverage, she pushed herself into a standing position. Holding onto the wall for support, she made her way into the kitchen. She collected a bowl and filled it with ice from the icemaker in the door of the refrigerator, and poured cold water on top of it. The set the bowl onto the counter, and, leaning against the counter, she carefully washed the bloody sponge with antibacterial dish soap and tossed it into the bowl.
The bowl teetered and sloshed precariously as Beth struggled to make it back to the spare room without toppling over. She dropped the bowl of icy water onto the nightstand, and it sloshed against the wall.
Beth peeled back the covers and exposed Malachai’s torso. She snatched the sponge from the bowl and squeezed it over his stomach, allowing the icy cold water to flow over him. She repeated this several times, and then she began to wipe his body carefully with the icy cold sponge. She blotted it gently against his forehead.
Malachai began to writhe in agony. He moaned aloud, and his muscles tensed.
“Malachai?” Beth asked. “Can you hear me?”
She placed her hand against his skin, and it was still searing hot. Her heart began to race, and Malachai’s body began to seize. His entire body went rigid, stiffening until it was almost straight as a board. His hands clenched into fists, and his head rolled backward.
“No, no, no,” Beth muttered. “Malachai!”
Aztos was away, and her mother would never get here in time. She couldn’t call an ambulance, because she was afraid his anatomy might somehow be different from a human and he’d be discovered. After all, he had wings hidden in there, somewhere. A massive surge of adrenaline coursed through her body, and she felt energized.
“Hold on, Malachai!” she cried, tearing out of the room at breakneck speed.
She rushed into the hallway bathroom and began to fill the tub with cold water. She dashed back to collect the bowl of ice water, and she took it back to the bathroom and dumped it into the tub. Back and forth from the kitchen to the bathroom she went, carrying bowls of ice until the icemaker was empty. She tossed the empty bowl into the hallway and rushed back to Malachai. His body was still stiff with seizure.
“Come on, Malachai,” she told him. “I’ve got to get you into cold water quickly.”
With the adrenaline still surging through her body, she was able to pull his body from the bed without too much struggle. It was difficult to drag him down the hallway, but she managed. Finally, she stepped into the icy cold water and put her hands under his arms, pulling with all her might until his body fell into the water with a splash.
At first, his body hardly touched the water. He was so stiff and rigid from the seizure, only his feet and lower legs were submerged. But as Beth used a washcloth to drench him with the freezing water, the seizure began to subside. Gradually, his body relaxed down into the arctic tub. She continued to use the washcloth to squeeze water onto his chest, and to wipe his face and neck.
“I hope I’m doing the right thing, Malachai,” she sighed. “I don’t know what else to do.”
Eventually, she could tell his fever had subsided. Without the adrenaline in her system, she wasn’t sure she could get him back into bed. Besides, the guest bed was drenched from the ice water. She didn’t want to put him there. Even if she changed the sheets, the mattress was soaked. Malachai’s teeth began to chatter, and she knew she needed to get him out of the water.
Beth lined the floor of the bathroom with a double thick layer of towels, and she struggled to drag Malachai out of the water. Finally, his slippery body crashed onto the floor with a thud.
“Oh, gosh, I hope I didn’t hurt you,” Beth muttered.
She rolled a towel up and gently lifted his head, placing the towel under him like a pillow.
“I’ll be right back,” she promised.
Beth went into the bedroom she shared with Aztos and opened one of his dresser drawers. She pulled out a pair of sweatpants she knew Aztos rarely wore. She needed to get Malachai into something dry. She took them into the bathroom and tossed them onto the counter.
“Okay, now how am I going to do this?” Beth murmured, thinking. “Oh, I have an idea.”
She took a dry towel and laid it over his lap, and then she carefully tugged at his pale linen pants, making sure not to disturb the towel that covered him. If nothing else, she wanted to preserve their modesty. She took his soaking wet pants and tossed them into
the tub, and then she dried his body as well as she could. Finally, she struggled to pull the sweatpants up without revealing anything. Fortunately, the towel covered everything for as long as it needed to, and he was dressed.
“Whew,” she sighed. “Now, let’s see if I can get you into bed.”
As carefully as she could, Beth pulled and tugged, dragging Malachai down the hallway. She knew Aztos wouldn’t be happy seeing Malachai in his bed, but she had no other option. She pulled back the covers, and then she struggled to pull his heavy body onto the bed. Finally, he was situated, and she pulled a sheet over him. It was warm inside the house, and she was afraid she might cause his fever to flare up again if she covered him with blankets. Then she turned off the light.
She sat beside him and watched him sleep. She brushed his hair gently away from his face, and she watched his chest rise and fall in the dim light that fell over him from the hallway.
“Malachai, I don’t know what happened to you,” Beth whispered. “But I promise you, I won’t let anything happen to you. You’re safe here.”
She meant to get up and go sleep in the chair before she became too exhausted, but she was afraid to leave his side. She didn’t want to risk a recurrence of his fever, so she felt the need to watch over him closely. For hours, she sat beside him, simply watching him sleep, and occasionally brushing her hand against his forehead to be sure his temperature felt normal. Sometime in the night, her eyelids grew too heavy to stay open, and they closed. She was unaware of it.
“Elizabeth!” a voice thundered, jerking her into consciousness.
“What?” she gasped, only vaguely aware of her surroundings.
“What are you doing?” Aztos demanded.
She looked around, confused and seeing things through a haze of sleep deprivation. She noticed she was lying in their bed with her head on Malachai’s abdomen. She sat up quickly.
“Oh, goodness! I must have fallen asleep!”
Aztos narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing her carefully.
“How did he get into those pants?” Aztos asked, eyeing Malachai.
“Huh?” Beth asked. “Oh, right. He got a terrible fever last night, so I had to put him in a tub of ice water. His pants were soaked, so I had to give him a pair of yours. I hope you don’t mind too much.”
