by L. J. Sealey
“I knew the lights would be too bright for you when you finally came to.”
Michael looked over at the stranger who used his finger to tap his temple.
“Your head.” He used the same finger to point around the room. “That’s why the candles,” he explained.
Michael lifted his chin in acknowledgement. “Well, what is this place? It doesn’t look like Hell but this could just be one of those damn hallucinations. Yeah. . . That’s exactly what this is, isn’t it? I’m imagining all of this, aren’t I?”
“Nope. All real.”
“Right.” Michael wasn’t convinced. He’d seen how real things could appear in that shit hole of a place so why couldn’t this just be the same thing. “Ok. And you are?”
“Here to help,” was all he got for a reply from the guy.
“Wait. . . Ok. I get it. . . I am hallucinating. I’m in some freaky game show where I have to guess the answers to what happens to me next. Right? ‘Coz why else would I be sitting here still waiting for answers?” Michael said sarcastically. “Are you gonna start talking?”
The candles flared brighter all of a sudden and Michael looked around the place again. Definitely not a motel room. The walls were painted in deep yellow and a small, glass chandelier, which matched the sconces, hung from the ceiling in the middle of the room. Ok, so the candle trick meant that this guy was clearly not human.
“You’re still in Garrett, and this house belongs to a friend of mine.”
Ok, not quite what Michael meant. “About what the hell’s going on here not whose goddamn house this is?”
The stranger sat back in his chair. “I am Raziel, and this is the second time I’ve pulled you from damnation.” He must have seen Michael’s surprised expression because he quickly continued. “Yes. I’m the reason you got out the first time, only I wasn’t expecting you’d liked it so much to go straight back in there of your own accord.”
Michael’s eyes widened with shock and confusion. Why did he have no idea? “What are you?”
“I suppose you could say I’m your guardian angel.”
Silence.
There were times when Michael questioned his own sanity; questioned whether or not his recent experiences had been some sort of distorted reality that only existed inside a troubled mind of a version of himself that was locked up in a padded room. It was easy to think that, given how he’d spent his past year. The many unexplainable things he’d witnessed could all be put down to a misinterpreted reality.
He’d fought demons a plenty, encountered spirits, wraiths−both good and evil, had been to Hell and back—literally. But this was the first time he’d ever encountered an angel.
Angel. He repeated it to himself, as if that would somehow make it easier to swallow.
Even after everything he’d been through, he was having a hard time processing the fact that the guy sitting across the room from him, a guy who looked like he was more likely out of some TV show about renegades who ride around on souped up classic motorbikes, was an actual angel.
All of a sudden an uncontrollable roar of laughter erupted from Michael; the kind of laughter that had you gripping your stomach and wiping tears from your eyes. He noticed a bemused look on the face of the stranger who seemed to be waiting patiently for Michael to compose himself.
“Care to share what you find so funny?”
He finally managed to swallow his amusement and explain his sudden outburst. “It’s just. . . Of all the ways I expected an angel would look, you are not one of them.”
The angel huffed. “Glad I amuse you.”
“I’m sorry. I mean nothing by it. It’s just,” Michael shook his head, “if someone had said to me that I would meet a real life angel one day, I’d be expecting long, flowing, white gowns and fluffy wings or something, not a celestial version of Jax Teller.”
“Who?”
Michael shook his head. “Never mind.”
Raziel seemed to relax a little. “I think I would honestly end things for myself if that was required attire.”
Both men, for want of a better word, sat in silence for a few moments. Thankfully Michael’s headache had started to ease a little and he was feeling much better. But he needed answers. Why had this angel saved him? Twice?
“Why did you save me?”
“Because I was ordered to.” Raziel replied without hesitation.
“Ordered by who?”
Raziel just looked at Michael without saying a word. He let out a long sigh and shifted forward on his chair.
“You might want to brace yourself for what I’m about to tell you.”
Michael stood up; his head still throbbed a little but it was almost back to normal. He walked over to the side of the bed near the angel and sat down, feeling a little apprehensive at Raziel’s words. “Go on.”
What the angel said next, he could never have been prepared for.
“You’ve never been fully human, Michael.” Raziel looked up when he heard Michael’s gasp. “Your father was one of us, a warrior of the creator, or an angel. You are a Nephilim: half human/half angel.”
Well, that was enough to make a guy want to lose his stomach right here on the nice beige carpet. Michael sat stock still as though someone had hit pause on his remote control. He had no choice but to listen to Raziel as the guy continued.
“There was a war, a long time ago, between Heaven and Hell and some decisions were made by the creator−the one you call God−that some of my fellow warriors didn’t agree with. It caused a division amongst us, eventually leading to a rebellion. Those rebels were due to be cast out for their behaviour, but before the creator could do it, the rebel warriors came to earth and decided to punish the creator in the worst way possible: by hurting his humans. They raped and murdered, and all because they’d been branded. When one of us is about to be punished, and in most cases cast out, we are branded, stripped of our powers, though not our strength, before being put on trial before a jury of our leaders.
“A team of elite warriors were sent to retrieve the rebels from earth and return them to the creator who would make them fall for their crimes. One of these elite warriors was your father, Samael.”
“Shit!” Michael managed to say before swallowing the saliva that was quickly filling his mouth. The news should have been implausible, so why was he not finding it harder to accept what Raziel was saying? “Was my mother raped?”
Raziel shook his head. “No. Your mother helped Samael and he fell in love with her. Some of the women who were raped went on to have children. Those Nephilim had defects: they grew to be monsters. Some raped, some murdered and some just simply went insane but all are dead now.
“But you, Michael. . . you were born out of love. Because of that, your heart is pure.”
Michael was stunned beyond all comprehension. Not sure how to process the atomic bombshell that had just been dropped on him. How could this be true? An angel? He was half angel? How is that even possible?
For some strange reason his thoughts went back to that day in the hospital when Jake had shown his face. After he’d gone to get coffee and he’d stopped to check if the lady was ok.
“Are you here for him?” she’d said. And, “Please, take good care of him. Look after him until I get there.”
Suddenly, the penny dropped. Her son. . . He was dying. She’d thought Michael had come to take him. He scrubbed his hand over his stubble. Jesus. Had she really thought he was an angel? And how did she know that he. . . ?
“Some people can just sense these things.” Raziel answered the question that Michael had only asked in his mind.
Michael straightened. “Can you. . . ?”
“See what’s in your mind? Yes.”
“Good to know.” A pain shot through Michael’s left temple and he winced. “Damn. I thought you said this would ease?”
“It will.”
Michael pinched the skin at the top of his nose in the hope that it would help. It did a little. Well, it helped with the head pain.
He still had that horrible tightness in his chest which seemed to be getting worse.
He thought about his parents. “What happened to them?”
Raziel sat back in his chair and ran his hand through his wavy hair, keeping it off his face. “Your father was punished for his crime, cast out, made to fall. I don’t know what happened to him after that, no one does. Your mother never got over losing Samael, and after giving birth to you she killed herself.”
Even though he never knew his real parents, Michael couldn’t help but feel the loss of them. Growing up he was always led to believe that he wasn’t wanted, and made to live with more people that hadn’t wanted him. But he couldn’t be too angry about it. After all, he’d lived a life to be proud of. That was until. . .
“So, if I’m half angel, how did I end up like this?” It didn’t make any sense.
“After you were born you were protected. We knew, as the only surviving Nephilim and one of pure heart, that you would be hunted,” Raziel explained.
“Hunted, why?”
“It has always been said that if you create a life by mixing the DNA of a human with that of an angel then that child, or Nephilim, would grow to be extremely powerful. So we took steps to ensure your safety. Your mother named you Gazriel, which is the name your father wanted to give you, but we changed your identity and let you live on earth as a normal human with protection from us. We watched over you.”
“And Varesh? Where does he come into this? And do you know he’s building an army?”
“Yes. All we know is that he’s up to something. We’re watching him. Closely.”
Michael stood up from the bed and began to pace the length of the room. “Then how did that bitch kill me?” he snapped. It was because of her that he was in this mess; that Lacy and Evo were. . . Oh shit! Evo. How was he supposed to find Evo?
Raziel waited for Michael to calm down before he answered. “That we didn’t see coming. But once that demon had killed you, your protection didn’t work anymore. That meant that every creature, every being that knew about you would be able to find you.”
They both sat in silence.
Gazriel.
That was his real birth name. Another memory shot into his mind, this one from further back than the last. The night he’d first met Evo in the alley when he’d saved him from that demon. “Gazriel!” It had said before vanishing. That demon had recognised him back then.
Amongst Michael’s memories an idea surfaced. If Raziel had saved him twice from Hell then surely he could save his friend. “What about Evo? Can you. . . ” Michael didn’t need to finish his question because when he looked over at the angel he was already shaking his head. Oh yeah, the mind reading thing.
“It’s forbidden for an angel to enter Hell without falling. The first time I saved you was an exception: I had help from my superiors, which is rare. The second. . . I didn’t need to go into Hell. I just grabbed you before you got there.” Raziel looked at Michael, his gaze sympathetic.
Michael walked back over to the bed and plunked himself down, the temporary hope he’d just felt leaving him as quickly as the air from a deflating balloon.
“Sorry,” Raziel said as Michael looked down at the floor. “Besides, where he is, is not an easy place to get to.”
Michael’s eyes shot back up to his. “You know where he is?”
“Yes. And it’s damned unfortunate.”
Yes it was. But not impossible.
He had to get going.
Michael got up from the bed and began to walk towards the door. He paused as he looked at the angel. He at least needed to thank him for saving him twice. He had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time he saw Raziel, but for now he had to leave.
“Thanks.” Michael said. He sincerely appreciated what the angel had done. Without him, he’d have never gotten out of the pit the first time, and he’d have never met Evo or Lacy.
Now it was time for him to save someone.
The angel cocked a brow at Michael and simply said, “No need. Where will you go?”
Michael smiled. “I’m going to find a way to save my buddy.”
EPILOGUE
A biting wind whistled through the tall trees behind Michael as he stood across the dimly lit parking lot of Albert’s Grocery Mart watching Lacy pack her shopping bags into the trunk of her car. Nina was about to put the bag that she’d been carrying in there too until the handle snapped, spilling the contents all over the floor. Both women laughed as they bent to retrieve the scattered shopping as Michael watched from the shadows with a yearning deep in his heart that was inconceivable.
It had been seven days since Raziel, the angel, had pulled him back from the pit, and for every single one of those days Michael had tortured himself over what to do. He’d wanted to go running straight to Lacy, to tell her everything was ok, and that he wasn’t in Hell, but something had stopped him.
Finding that he couldn’t risk everything he’d fought for, Michael had refrained from contacting her and it had damn near ended him.
Instead, he’d called Alethia.
The deity agreed that what he was doing was right and wanted to help him. He needed to find his friend and to make sure he destroyed Varesh and his minions so they could never hurt Lacy again.
Only then could he return to her.
He had to know she was safe.
As Lacy looked up from her crouch on the floor he saw a distance in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. Behind her smiles was a vacant space that he knew he was responsible for.
But this was how it had to be.
She couldn’t know he was back.
“We really should leave,” a voice said from behind him, pulling him from his thoughts. Alethia had been patient while he’d observed the woman he now knew he loved. But she was right: The longer he was around Lacy, the more at risk she was.
The deity was taking him to the airport where he would be catching a flight to Cincinnati to meet with an acquaintance of hers. Alethia had found out that there was another hunter in Kentucky, who’d also had a run in with Varesh, and Michael had arranged to speak to him. He knew he couldn’t deal with the situation with Evo alone with what little information he had, so he needed to cover every angle. Hopefully the guy in Newport would be able to help.
He nodded his head and forced himself to break the intense magnetic force that was holding him to her. Leaving her was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do but the knowledge of someday returning to her, without any of the danger that would surely follow him now, was the only thing keeping him strong enough to walk away.
He walked towards Alethia’s BMW but before he opened the door he turned to look at Lacy once more.
She was just about to get into her car when her head lifted and she looked over in his direction.
He froze. His heart sank as his eyes met hers. But she wouldn’t know it was him under the dark hood he wore. She got in the car and shut the door.
All he could do was watch with tortured anguish as the woman he loved drove away from him.
“I’ll be with you soon, Lacy,” he whispered.
And vowed to keep the promise that he’d made.
THE END. . . For now. . .
For updates on the Divine Hunter series visit www.ljsealey.com
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
L.J. Sealey was born and raised in a little Welsh town by the sea. It rains a lot, so she often has a great excuse to sit at her writing desk and while away the hours at her laptop.
She still lives in N.Wales and when she’s not travelling around the country working with her husband – who is a professional singer – or singing backup vocals herself in her husband’s band, she likes to read and watch her favourite TV shows which normally includes plenty of CSI, The Vampire Diaries and lots of sitcoms.
Awaken
is the first book in her new paranormal romance series
Divine Hunter.
Connect with L.J. Sealey
Website: www.ljse
aley.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/authorljsealey
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If you’d like to email: [email protected]
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A First Look At
DARK DELIVERANCE: Divine Hunter Book Two
Coming in 2014
PROLOGUE
Denver, Colorado.
January 27th, 1980.
Dawn was near breaking. . .
A woman crouched down behind the lectern at the sanctuary of St Barnabus’ church of Latter Day Saints, trembling with fear as the battle continued to rage outside the heavy, wooden front doors. She wrapped one arm around the small swell of her pregnant stomach and prayed like she’d never prayed before.
Just then, the panicked voice she heard, the one that bellowed through the ancient building she’d taken refuge in, made her chest tighten and a strange sense of relief pushed its way through her fear.
“Larissa? Larissa where are you?” the familiar voice shouted and she heard the heavy footsteps of her saviour quicken down the aisle.
She rushed to her feet and when she saw him, she couldn’t hold back her tears. “I’m here, Samael.”
“Larissa!”
She stepped around the lectern and began to rush towards him.
“No!” he shouted. “Stay where you are. I’ll come to you.”
When he reached her she gasped at the blood on his face−some by his left temple and some around the right side of his mouth. It was deeper in color than a human’s, so deep it was almost black, and it made her legs feel weak to see him in that state.
Her angel.
He crouched down, pulling her with him so they were both now hidden behind the wide, wooden stand. He flung his arms around her, pulling her into his hard body. “Thank the heavens you are safe,” he said as he kissed the top of her head.
