by C. Gockel
Clark and Michaela both looked, open mouthed, at the object on her palm. It was a single, tiny feather. Michaela gasped. She cursed and twitched her hand, shaking the feather free until it fell to the floor. She rubbed her hand where the electrical current had zapped her.
“What was that?” Clark asked, breathless.
She backed away, pulling Clark with her until they were pressed against the double doors leading out of the lab. “It was a soul.”
“A soul of what?” Clark sounded skeptical. “The angel’s soul?”
“No,” Michaela answered. “It was a human soul.”
Without the feather in its mouth, the hazy air above the angel’s mouth was gone, like a bubble burst. From where she stood, she could see the tiny, exposed form of the soul on the floor. She shivered.
“No way. Human souls are feathers?” Clark watched her like she had gone crazy, but Michaela didn’t pay attention. Instead she thought about Cassie injecting herself with human blood and her wild talk of protecting souls by giving them a new, better place to hide. Michaela’s eyes flickered back to the IV’s positioned by each gurney.
“They are. When Loki takes the soul from the humans, he gives them to the carrier angels like Cassie. She puts the feather into her wings. It’s how she carries thousands of them back to Purgatory,” Michaela said. She couldn’t help but picture Molloch’s death and how his body had disintegrated into feathers.
“Okay,” Clark drew out the word like he still didn’t understand. “So why are these souls down here in angel’s mouths?”
Michaela turned to Clark. Her eyes were wide with the fear coursing through her body. “I think Gabriel was right,” she whispered. “It was never about the Archangels and Heaven or even me. I think Lucifer only cared about the souls from the beginning.”
“How do you know for sure?” Clark asked. His eyebrows rose as he regarded her.
“If it was really about disgracing me and ruining the Archangels, why hasn’t he come after us? He easily could have killed you a million times.” Clark snorted at her words, rolling his eyes. “And he hasn’t tried to invade Heaven again. His first try was half-hearted at best…This wasn’t about Heaven. It was always the souls.”
“Are these,” Clark pointed to the feather that still lay on the floor where Michaela had dropped it, “all the extra souls he got from the Purification?”
“I guess so,” Michaela answered quietly. She rubbed her arms for warmth. The air in the lab was cold, but a chill permeated her insides. It burgeoned out from the ball of fear lodged in her gut.
“Okay…we know whatever Asz saw Cassie doing has something to do with the souls, because she said she was trying to…”
“…keep the souls safe,” Michaela finished, losing herself in thought.
“By putting souls in the mouths of angels? That seems a little ridiculous,” Clark said.
“No, it’s much more than that,” Michaela said. She couldn’t turn away from the IV’s full of human blood. “I think Cassie discovered a secret about human souls and angels and blood.”
“In the Apocrypha?” Clark wondered. She caught him staring at his arms.
Michaela nodded, deep in thought. “Right. So Cassie found a secret in the Apocrypha and it involved souls, which Lucifer had plenty after the Purification.”Michaela frowned. “But the blood…”
“My dad told me something interesting about angels drinking blood. We have these angels in the detention center at the compound called the ruined fallen. They became addicted to human blood, and like, went crazy. A bunch of Descendants had to go after them. Their hunger for blood made them rabid. The scientists at the compound kept giving them more blood, because it was the only thing that calmed them down. But eventually, they were comatose. Like their bodies were just a live shell, but the angel inside had died.
“Dude, what?” he asked irritably when Michaela only stared at him blankly. But Michaela didn’t respond. Her eyes were wide, her mind faraway.
“Lucifer convinced Cassie that Heaven wasn’t safe for the souls anymore, which is why she fell. She was looking for a place to hide them. I think she found one.” Michaela stared at the angels laying listless on the cold metal gurneys. Never before would she have called fallen helpless, but she pitied these angels. “I think Cassie found a way to put the souls of dead humans in the bodies of live angels.”
“But how did she do that? You can’t just put someone’s soul inside another living body,” Clark argued.
“Blood,” Michaela answered. She pointed to the IV’s dripping a steady flow of human blood into the prone bodies of the angels. “The fallen angels are given human blood. That’s why the Siren needed so much of it back at the club. It’s the only way Cassie could have done it.” She spoke quietly, like she was worried someone would hear.
Clark opened his mouth to question, but Michaela went on.
“Those ruined fallen you talked about, they had died…sort of. Blood is toxic to angels and highly addictive. It would have killed their souls but not their bodies, since only bones from my wings can kill angels…” Michaela paused for a moment, frowning. Clark didn’t speak for once. “I think Cassie was using human blood to suspend an angel’s soul, to lower their ability to fight against the human soul when she put it inside them. These angels are still in the process of accepting the human soul,” she murmured. She glanced over her shoulder through the double doors and to the cells outside. “Those angels are the finished product. That’s why they are so different and aggressive, because they have souls inside them, and they crave human blood from their exposure to it. Cassie wasn’t protecting the human souls from anything. She didn’t know it, but she was building something for Lucifer.” Michaela breathed heavy with realization.
“What is she trying to make?”
Michaela didn’t hear. All she could think was that Lucifer was right about humans winning the war for him, especially when he built an entire army full of their souls. He could slaughter the whole legion of holy angels. And take Heaven and Earth for himself just like he wanted.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“She was making Nephilim,” Michaela said finally.
“Uh, come again?”
“They have the real Nephil here as a prototype.”
“But she is nothing like them,” Clark said, frowning.
“Exactly. Lucifer is trying to manufacture something that can’t just be created. Nephilim are powerful creatures. They combine the best of angels and humans. It was a natural process between an angel and a human woman. That essence can’t just be grown in some fancy lab.”
“So why try?”
“Because the Apocrypha showed Cassie how to make an angel truly immortal—”
“Lucifer would want immortal angels for his army since you had just figured out how an angel could die with your bones,” Clark said, tugging his fingers through his disarrayed pink hair.
“Exactly. If you think about it, a human’s soul is truly immortal—it lives forever in Heaven or Hell. Not even the angels or the Nephilim have that power. I believe Lucifer found by putting a human soul into an angel, he could create an immortal hybrid, creating the best kind of Nephilim—one that wasn’t killed by bone or affected by water.”
“Why water?” Clark asked. “I don’t remember any of this from my classes.”
“Water weakens both a Nephil and a Watcher, because they share the same genetics. When I put the Watchers in the ground, I chained them in a river so that they couldn’t conduct their magic. But bone would have to kill a Watcher. Whereas, Nephilim aren’t affected as strongly by water, and angel bones wouldn’t be their weakness, because they are essentially human and would die of old age or an illness.”
Michaela leaned back against the wall, her head in her hands. Lucifer had to try something drastic at some point. Since she had watched him fall from Heaven, she knew he would do anything in his power to take Heaven back for himself. At this point, she almost couldn’t blame him. She would do
anything to return home also. But she couldn’t let him get away with hurting the souls.
“I still don’t get it. How do you know Lucifer found this out from the Apocrypha?”
“I think Cassie was the only one who could read it for him, and I think she could only interpret the parts about souls. Since the time the Watchers were cast out, angels have said the Watchers had the secrets for both immortality and death for an angel,” Michaela answered, but her voice wavered.
“So, let me get this straight. You think Abel is after the Seven Seals so he can bring about the end of the world?” Clark asked.
“Yes. If my dream was a vision and not just a nightmare.”
“Okay. And Lucifer is building an immortal army to fight during the End of the Days because he wants to win control of Earth and Heaven?”
Michaela nodded silently.
“Basically, we are in the middle of a war to stop the end of the world,” Clark concluded.
“It kind of looks that way doesn’t it?”
Clark heaved a sigh. “What are we going to do?”
Michaela pushed through the double doors and stepped back into the still vacant hallway. She scanned the long row of doors. “I need to figure out what to do with these things.”
Clark’s head jerked back to the Nephil’s door. “What are you going to do to her? You won’t kill her will you?”
“I would have…before. I would have killed her without a second thought. They are abominations.” Clark tensed. “But now, I don’t understand why a creature should be killed just for existing.”
“Well…okay then. Glad that’s settled. What now?”
“I guess you’ll want to get her out?” Michaela didn’t wait for an answer. She turned away and walked farther down the hall.
Clark smirked at her back. “What kind of hero would I be if I didn’t?”
Michaela rolled her eyes. She opened a few doors, reveling cleaning supplies and a tech closet. Finally, she found the control room. She put her hand on the handle, and slowly swung the door open, peering in to the small room.
A figure swiveled around in the chair and leveled a gun at her chest. Michaela stepped inside, blocking Clark’s view of the familiar. It held a gun and was dressed in a white coat with credentials hanging off the pocket. Its eyes were dark beneath black, greasy hair. A blast of cold air washed over her, bringing the stench of sulfur. The familiar rose, releasing the safety.
Michaela was scared not of the familiar but of the creatures in the lab with souls hanging in their mouths. She was afraid of what Cassie was doing. She was afraid of the cut on her arm and Death saying he was coming for her. But her fear was conjuring more familiars, and she didn’t have time for them right now. She took a deep breath and stepped around the man.
Clark stuck his head into the room. “Whoa. Dude.”
Inside were at least fifty small monitors that showed live feeds rotating through each room. A switchboard of controls spread out before the chair.
Michaela turned to him. “Are you ready?” she asked.
Clark nodded.
“I need you to take care of the Nephil. I’m going to deal with the other ones.”
Clark watched her carefully as she positioned herself in front of the monitors. “Are you sure you can handle all this?” he asked.
Her hand settled on the controls, and she scanned through each room. Her eyes never left the monitors. She ignored his question and said, “Look, we probably don’t have much time. I doubt guards patrol down here with the familiars, but we need to be careful. As soon as I open a door, I’d be willing to bet someone upstairs will know.”
“And they won’t be happy,” Clark added drily.
“As soon as I open her door, get her out as quickly as possible. You’ll have to go up to get out. The guards will be coming down, so stay out of their way until they pass. I’ll give them a distraction.”
“What kind of distraction?” Clark grew serious. “How will you get out?”
“I have to find Cassie.”
“What are you going to do?” he asked. He crossed his arms over his chest with the stubborn expression Michaela knew so well.
“Don’t worry about that. Just get away from here. Let’s meet up at the motel,” Michaela said. She stood, backing him out of the room.
“I thought you said we should never return to the same motel?”
“I’m making an exception. Now, are you going to play hero or what?”
A lump formed in Michaela’s throat, which surprised her. She hadn’t expected to grow so attached to Clark, especially in her current situation. But she was, and she hated to see him go when it might be the last time she saw him. She forced herself to smile, her lips quivering in the corners of her mouth.
She made a mistake, because Clark instantly narrowed his eyes, skeptical of her smile. He hesitated. He wasn’t going to leave. It made her feel better to know that, and it gave her the strength to do what she had to do alone. She leaned over and shoved him out of the room, slamming the door in his face with a click of the lock.
On a monitor, Michaela saw Clark hesitate outside the door. He lifted his fist as if to pound it on the door, but lowered it. He searched for a minute before he found the camera and flipped her off. Michaela smiled, genuinely this time.
Clark turned and ran down the hall, watching the numbers on the doors. Michaela followed his progress with the monitor showing the length of the hallway. He stopped in front of one of the doors, took a deep breath, and gave the thumbs up sign.
Michaela flipped the release beneath the monitor. No alarms rang, but the guards would come. She watched as Clark caught the Nephil in his arms, his eyes glazing over as he stared down at her.
“Quit ogling and get out of here…”
Finally, Clark started moving, cradling the small Nephil in his arms. When they were past the control room, Michaela turned back to the monitors. She would give them a minute, but only one. Her palms left damp streaks across the desk.
She looked down at the screens and thought about what she would do. The old Michaela would have killed every last one. It was the honorable thing. It’s what Gabriel would have told her to do. Somewhere in those creatures were angels and souls, and they both deserved to be set free.
“But you’re not here, Gabe,” she said. The room answered with quietness.
But if she killed them, no one would know. Lucifer and his fallen would cover it up. They would recoup, try again later. Maybe it would be the same trick or maybe it would be something worse. But certainly their actions would never get traced back to the Aethere.
Michaela doubted the Aethere had any idea what Lucifer created here. The Aethere were delusional. They wanted a Heaven that was pure and perfect. They thought they understood the deal they had made with Lucifer, but they were naïve to presume Lucifer wouldn’t manipulate them. Lucifer used what they had given him and twisted it into the one thing that would be the fall of Heaven.
If she killed the creatures now, it would just be her, doing the honorable thing once again. And she didn’t feel honorable anymore. The snake within her writhed, spiraled up her spine, and coiled around the base of her neck. The minute had passed. Now was the time.
She didn’t know she decided until she heard the soft release of many doors opening at once. Instantly she regretted it, but only because Gabriel would be disappointed in her again.
She crossed to the control room door’s window and watched as the first few ambled past. Their eyes glowed a little brighter. Some even snapped their jaws at the fresh air. A few were slow and weak, fragile and failing. But many more were strong and surged forward. They appeared hungry and far more dangerous than Michaela had expected.
Chapter Thirty-Six
After the creatures passed, Michaela left the control room. The air felt viscous and hot, pressing into her nose with a horrible, decaying stench. She nearly gagged as she continued on around the corner.
A few guards were there. Their bod
ies strewn across the hall; their blood smeared against the walls. One clutched his gun in his hand as bloody air bubbled out of his mouth. His eyes focused on her, pleading. He was probably only a rent-a-cop meant to patrol halls, watch the monitors, and never ever go downstairs. He had, and he’d died.
Because of her.
She picked her way through the guards until she stood above one who was still alive. He stared up at her, his eyes afraid. He was already dead; he just hadn’t gotten there yet. There was nothing she could do, so she walked away. As she rounded the corner, she heard his final sigh.
Instead of following Clark’s path up and out of the building, she went down the only other hallway on the same basement level. This hall was smaller, narrower. It was the older part of the building not made of glass but cinder blocks. She nearly reached the end when she saw a small alcove positioned off to the side.
The doors were heavy; the glass on the window was thicker, murkier. A control panel hung next to the door. It glowed a soft blue, lightly illuminating the small area. Michaela took a breath and stepped in.
She guessed what she would find. Michaela looked through the small window. She’d been right. The creature had once been Cassie, but it certainly wasn’t anymore.
Cassie had gone too far, drank too much blood. Somewhere along the way, she tried to save one soul too many.
Her sweet face had hardened into an unnatural blend of angel and human. Her lackluster skin was hard as stone, unmoving and unyielding. Even her slight muscles seemed carved into her body. Like she sensed Michaela watching, Cassie’s eyes peeled open, revealing their blood red color.
Cassie leapt forward and slammed herself into the door, snarling and spitting. Caught in her teeth were slivers of muscle and tendon. They were stained a dingy brown from blood, their razor points honed by the bones she likely gnawed on. Cassie kept lunging at Michaela, biting at the glass with a single-minded hunger.
