Phalen let out a chuckle. "That's an understatement of monumental proportions."
A half smile was Gabrielle's only response. At some point, her powers always seemed to be a part of every conversation she had with one of her brethren, which was the main reason she avoided interacting with the majority of them. She didn't like to be thought of as such an efficient and skilled killer—to have so much more power than the others—even if it was true. And she hated the reverence and fear her abilities evoked from most angels. She had no control over the gifts Yahuwah chose to empower her with. Those bestowed on her made her different from her brethren—too different—and it left her feeling she was alone even with the legions of comrades she had in Heaven and on Earth.
Especially now that Javan is gone.
In her periphery, Gabrielle noticed Phalen's gaze fall on her and heard a subtle huff escape her mouth.
"Javan wasn't who you thought he was . . . who any of us thought he was, Gabrielle. I wish you would stop thinking of him so much."
"Easy. He was my Reyah," Gabrielle said with a slight scowl. "I wish I had thought of him when I was blocking my thoughts so you didn't know he was on my mind at all. And . . . trust me . . . I want him off my mind more than anyone."
Silence stretched between them as they continued their path along the shoreline leading away from the busiest part of the beach. Phalen didn't have to respond to Gabrielle's statement—all angels knew the pain was constant and endless from the loss of a Reyah. It left a sense of loneliness that was indescribable, and one that Gabrielle often thought a human could never endure. It was too profound to bear even with their limited time to feel it, and an angel felt it for thousands of years. The best that could be hoped for was to learn how to distract yourself from the conscious thoughts of the one who was lost to you.
Gabrielle closed her eyes as they walked, taking in the way it felt on her skin as the brisk, salty breeze carried the spray from crashing waves, lightly coating her face and body—a breeze foretelling the arrival of the storm approaching from the sea's depths. The darkened clouds were becoming more prominent on the horizon, and she was already aware of the soft rumblings of thunder that were too far away for the humans on the beach to hear.
It only took a moment more before she saw what was now a familiar vision behind her closed eyes—the image of a young man. She didn't know who he was, not yet. However, it was always the same blue eyes looking back at her—the same crooked smile. A human so present in her visions would be someone she would help in some way, and this one—who she'd seen so many times she'd lost count—would be easy to recognize when the time came. He seemed somehow . . . different, more important, for reasons Gabrielle couldn't figure out. What she did know was that she found herself trying to hold onto the visions longer lately. She enjoyed his face. It filled her with happiness. But what she enjoyed most was the peace it brought that was normally elusive for her. He would appear and all the tension and worry that plagued her would drift away like the sand being pulled back to sea by the tide, causing her to will the vision of him to linger. When she finally opened her eyes, she saw something moving toward them on the distant shoreline, and the feeling of happiness and peace disappeared.
She released a heavy sigh.
"Well, that didn't take long," Gabrielle said under her breath.
Phalen looked up from where her own eyes had been searching the sand in front of her and looked at Gabrielle, then in the direction of her gaze.
"How many?"
"Looks like seven, but there could be more. Once they know I'm around, there could be many in route I don't see, yet." Gabrielle didn't keep her frustration from being known in her tone. This would prove Amaziah right and allow him to gain even firmer footing in his argument against her doing what she had been asking for.
"What do you want to do?" Phalen asked.
"I want to release some of the bad mood my work has left me with. Are you game?"
A large, mischievous smile pushed Phalen's human cheeks aside.
"Always. You don't think I came just out of duty, do you? I was hoping for a little action. It's fine to spar with our brethren, but it's much more challenging when I am fighting with the end in mind—whether it's my end or my opponent's."
"Good. We need to move this somewhere I can easily use a veil."
"Okay. Just remember not to take them all out yourself. I'd like to use this to sharpen my skills—if you don't mind."
Gabrielle smiled at Phalen. She was young, especially compared to her, and still eager for combat against the Fallen.
"No, I don't mind. I'll let you handle most of them."
"Where do you want to take this little battle?" Phalen asked with unrestrained enthusiasm.
Gabrielle scanned their surroundings until she saw a small barrier island about a quarter mile out to sea. It was far enough from the beach that there were no swimmers or jet skiers near it, and most boaters were already heeding the threatening horizon's warning.
"There." Gabrielle pointed in the direction of the island. "That will serve us well."
"How do we get there? We can't exactly walk on water or fly to it without causing a commotion."
"I'll handle it."
Gabrielle raised her hand, bringing the progression of human time to a halt. Every living thing stood still—as if they had been created by an artist's brush. The only beings still moving, other than Gabrielle and Phalen, were the demons in pursuit of revenge that they desired for being cast from Heaven—for being denied whatever it was they felt they deserved.
"Wow . . . that's something I didn't think I'd ever see. I've heard about it, but so few are bestowed with the ability to interrupt mortal time."
Gabrielle felt her unease rise once more from the attention her powers brought. She had to stop her inner voice from yelling that she was tired of being different. She didn't have time to dwell on those feelings, so she pushed them away. Their attackers, though a safe distance away, were drawing close. "We need to get over there so I can start time again. I'm not a fan of using this ability unless I have to. I worry some bored demon will use the pause to wreak havoc if it's left in place long enough."
Phalen was staring at Gabrielle with an expression of marvel mingling with admiration, furthering Gabrielle's unwanted sense of uniqueness.
"Anyway," Gabrielle said to try to interrupt Phalen's gaze and its accompanying thoughts, "let's go."
The two made their way to the island as Gabrielle took care of what was needed to keep their human bodies from being bothered on the beach. Once they reached the location, Gabrielle placed a veil around it, then resumed time. A glance at the shore they had just been walking on showed their human figures still making their way slowly along the edge of the breaking waves. The dark-haired, olive-skinned body she'd chosen was a stark contrast to the white-blond, ivory-skinned one that Phalen decided on.
That was all she had time to note before the demons were upon them. They were now facing seven of Yahuwah's Fallen, and as much as it pained Gabrielle to know what was about to befall these demons who were once her brethren, she knew their dark eyes matched their intentions.
"Well," said one of the demons, "I take it you intend on letting us have a little fun. Would you like to . . . dance, angel?"
They'd dropped their Glamours since there were no human eyes to see their true appearance. She wished they hadn't. The empty gazes that once showed so much Light and life weren't that bad, really. It was their unusually large mouths that held ragged, darkened teeth in their confines and over-muscular faces and bodies that were things seen in human nightmares. Their beauty was lost in the fall, mirroring the loss of beauty in their hearts, minds, and souls.
And their odor . . .
Evil is vile on more than a mental, soulless level; it consumes the physical as well. If the Fallen didn't mask their stench, it made her insides lurch as they were right now. It was the smell of the hate and decay of the Underworld they inhabited, a cross between sulfur
and rotting flesh. It seeped into everything. It showed in every tooth, under every nail. Even their skin showed the greenish-grey undertones of the Darkness of the Underworld.
"I don't think it's going to be as much fun as you might think, demon," Gabrielle said, aware of the others making a wide circle around her and Phalen.
"I know who you are," the demon continued, "and what you are supposedly capable of. But we are seven against you and one other. And there are more on their way. Your time is over."
"You seem so sure of yourself. I'm surprised . . . if you really do know who I am."
"You're Gabrielle. The Reaper, as we like to call you," the demon said with more than a little venom pricking into his tone.
That name made her skin crawl, and the Fallen knew it. The Reaper. She didn't cause death, but those who crossed her sometimes wished for it by the time she was done with them.
"The Angel of Karma," the demon continued. "I believe that's what you like to call yourself. I'm much older than you. I fell long before you were created, so I don't hold the same respect for your abilities as those who lived with you in Heaven." The demon glared at Gabrielle, and there seemed to be more than loathing behind his scrutiny—there was curiosity. "Let me guess, angel, you're here to try and find a certain book before we do."
Gabrielle's puzzled expression was the only answer she offered. She didn't have time to inquire about what book he was speaking of. "I see. If you had known me in Heaven, you might have made a wiser choice." Gabrielle continued to consider the positions of the others and moved herself to be able to see Phalen. It was true that Phalen was a skilled ally in combat, but Gabrielle would never forgive herself if she was hurt. It would be better to keep her in view as much as possible.
The demon who had spoken and two of the others fixed their attention only on Gabrielle while the remaining demons seemed to be more interested in Phalen. Gabrielle realized the plan must be to take her friend out first so they could then focus all their efforts on her. They were obviously underestimating Phalen. Gabrielle couldn't help but let a smile hint at the corners of her mouth.
Phalen is definitely going to have fun.
"Remember, Gabrielle," Phalen whispered, "you said you'd let me have some of them."
Gabrielle smiled knowingly at her friend. That was all there was time for before the demons began their attack. As Gabrielle suspected, four of the seven focused on Phalen.
They swiftly encircled her as the other three cautiously made their move toward Gabrielle. She was glad they were being wary of her; it gave her the opportunity to see how Phalen would do before her own combat began.
The demons surrounding Phalen presented their weapons; all wielded Dither Swords that gave off a slight silver shimmer. That shimmer would turn blindingly white when it struck another weapon, confusing the opponent by making it difficult to see. The demons smiled, revealing their razor sharp teeth, so sure of their choice and perceived advantage.
Phalen smiled back, and Gabrielle could see her relax with the knowledge of her own abilities. Gabrielle focused her attention back to her own aggressors, keeping her friend partially in view. Phalen closed her eyes and raised her palms to the sky. The demons rushed her friend as a Dither Sword appeared in each of Phalen's open hands. The day lit brighter as Gabrielle heard the crash of the swords meeting. It was as if they were in the presence of Yahuwah himself. Sparks from clashing swords peppered the air around them, creating an amber glow that invaded the white light.
The demon who'd spoken so surely moments before now looked upon the scene with a deep scowl. Gabrielle didn't have to look to know Phalen was proving to be a more than worthy opponent, and smiled as the demons in front of her realized their miscalculation. The space around them dimmed as the racket of opposing swords behind her ceased.
Gabrielle felt the approaching energy of her comrade.
"Was it as enjoyable as you had hoped, Phalen?" Gabrielle asked without looking at her. The sound of Phalen's voice told Gabrielle there was a smile on her face.
"Yes, better than I'd hoped. I'm not sure why Yahuwah allows them to still call Divine weapons, but it sure makes things more fun."
The demon who had acted as the leader released a deep, throaty growl. "Don't get too happy yet, little angel. We aren't done here. Not by a long shot."
Gabrielle's smile faded as she suddenly felt the urge to be done with this, compelling her to make quicker work of her opponents than she had intended. Partially because she didn't want Phalen to be in even more awe of her, to have her then add to the tales of Gabrielle's might—there was enough story telling going on already—but, more than that, she wanted to get the I told you so from Amaziah out of the way.
"Demon," Gabrielle said with an edge seeping into her tone, "I am most certainly done here. Playtime is over."
Gabrielle did no more than raise her hands. A golden bow appeared in one hand, and three arrows tipped with crackling, white Holy Fire manifested in the other. With a swift motion, she pulled the arrows back as if they were one and let them loose. The targets fell to their knees before they took two steps. Matching expressions that held both pain and surprise gazed back at her. The Fallen slowly began to burn from within, consumed by the fires of Hell they would now never leave.
The only demon who'd spoken maintained his targeted glare at Gabrielle. "Bitch!"
Then his form succumbed to the death that came for him, turning him into nothing more than ember and ash.
"For you," Gabrielle said in no more than a whisper to the space where he once stood, "I was The Reaper."
Phalen stepped forward and looked at Gabrielle. "So . . . how many arrows can you use on different targets at once, anyway?"
Gabrielle looked at Phalen. She'd tried not to inspire what was behind the look in Phalen's eyes as her friend waited for an answer to her question. Gabrielle just smiled and quickly looked away, focusing back on the area around her.
Satisfied that the lingering stench and ash was the only remaining evidence of her fallen brethren and their conflict, knowing the storm would unleash rain upon the landscape—joining the ash with sand—Gabrielle turned and responded to Phalen's question.
"It doesn't matter. Let's go"
"Sure. Why does Yahuwah allow the Fallen to still use His weapons?"
"Amaziah told me it's some deal He made with Ramai. To keep things as equal as possible with the war." Gabrielle considered the deal Yahuwah had made before continuing. "This war is more about humans than us. He wants humanity to win it for themselves by making the right choices on their own, not through his own power or ours. It would be very easy for us to wipe out the entire population of demons if they had no defense."
"Hmm . . ." Phalen said. "Hey . . . do you know what he was talking about when he said he thought you were trying to find a book?"
"No, but I need to. Maybe Amaziah knows."
"So," Phalen began, her playful tone lightening the mood slightly, "that demon was pretty sure of himself, asking you to dance. What would you do if the Devil asked you?"
Gabrielle smirked. "If the Devil asked me to dance, I'd tell him he couldn't handle me."
As they returned to their human forms, Gabrielle glanced back to make sure everything looked as it had before the fight began. Satisfied, she descended into her temporary body. Together, they continued walking away from the crowd until they found sufficient cover to ascend.
What Gabrielle couldn't have noticed on the island was a flock of crows hidden behind a veil of their own. They had observed the battle as it unfolded and ended—and listened closely to the angels' conversation after it was over. As Gabrielle and Phalen resumed their stroll, the flock took flight—disappearing into the heavy black clouds closing in on the coastline. A flash of lightning lit the dismal horizon as the last crow was enveloped in the storm's roiling shadows—as if it was embracing a lost love.
Chapter Two
Gabrielle ~ Battle Won
'Then tell me how you expect me to learn h
ow to get through to humans, Amaziah.' Gabrielle found herself trying, for what must be the hundredth time, to convince her closest ally she needed to live as a human. And, once again, her mood wasn't helping her keep her cool. She could feel the negativity from giving out so much bad karma trying to push toward freedom—ready to lash out at whoever was nearest. Right now, that was Amaziah, and she certainly didn't want to use him to ease her edginess. 'Because I have tried everything else I can think of to get them to want to be closer to Light, and all I see is more of them drifting toward Ramai and the shadows of Darkness. As we lose their souls, we are also losing our Asarers.'
Amaziah sighed. Gabrielle knew he understood her need to be on Earth, but it didn't mean he would plead her case to Yahuwah. It was more than a little dangerous for her to be incarnated for any substantial length of time, both physically and spiritually. Being on Earth in any form made her a physical target to the Fallen, but being in a human body would make her a spiritual target in ways she would not be able to control. If her request was granted, she would be there for months, maybe longer.
'Gabrielle, I know the struggles you have had in getting the results you want when you assign karma. And I am well aware of the angels we have lost. Especially our Asarers and the human souls they have bound themselves to. But that doesn't mean putting yourself in jeopardy with only a hope of understanding humanity's motivations is the answer. Why is it that you can't do the same from here?'
'That's what I've always done. It's not working anymore. I've tried to make adjustments for the changes I've seen, but I'm not making any headway. If I can live in a human body, feel and think like a human in different situations, maybe I can get a better grasp on what drives their decisions. Then I can give out karma in ways that will cause them to want to move closer to Light.' She realized her illuminated hands were clenched tightly at her sides. She immediately opened them, but her tension still showed clearly as her energy quivered and took on a light red hue, instead of her normal shimmer of mingling white and silver.
That Yesterday Page 5
