Chef pulled up a chair and motioned for Chris to do the same.
“You have to understand something, Christopher,” he said in a more serious tone. “Your body was created by Sariel, using part of his essence. You are him, literally. Yes, you have your own personality and your own willpower. And because you are an independent person, the only way that this archangel can fight the fight that he apparently wants, is by allowing you to lead the way.” Chef wiped his hands on his apron and stared at Chris intently. “You are the captain of your ship, Chris. It is as simple as that.”
Chris thought about that for a moment. “That's...interesting, Chef. Tyler and Jacob's angels said almost the same thing.”
“Good. So listen to us and stop being so stubborn!” Chef said with a wink and a smile. He got up and resumed piling the dishes on the cart. Chris hurried to lend a hand.
When they were done, Chef patted Chris on the shoulder and left the room. Chris decided to get a book from the library and read in his room. He didn't really feel like talking to anyone for a while.
The afternoon passed quickly as Chris lost himself in tales of ancient Rome and Greece. He headed down to the dining hall at six-thirty and joined Tyler for dinner. His friend told him that Jacob had eaten earlier, to give himself time to prepare for his evening patrol.
“Why do you guys wear those long coats and hoods, Ty?” Chris asked as he finished his dinner. It was pizza night and, as usual, the food was the best thing ever. Chef believed in piling lots of extra cheese on his pizzas and Chris loved cheese.
“Oh yeah, the coats.” Tyler swallowed a hug piece of pizza and had to wait a minute until it all went down. He burped quietly. “Scuse me. Anyway, the coats are actually lined, Chris. Really thin Kevlar plates that are laid side by side to be flexible. And the hoods, well, when we're on patrol, if anything happens, the angels appear pretty quickly and, I don't know if you noticed, but they tend to glow around the face for some reason. Pretty easy to see in the dark and we don't want to give the bad guys an easy target, you know.”
“Huh. I hadn't thought of that. Kevlar. Is it bulletproof?”
Tyler shook his head. “It will turn a bullet as long as it doesn't hit dead on, but no, not bulletproof. It will slow a bullet down though, and it'll turn a blade, so it's still pretty useful.” He grimaced. “Takes a while to get used to though. Damned thing is heavy.”
Chris chuckled at Tyler's tone. He was obviously imitating Jacob. “Jake doesn't like the coats?”
“Hates them. Too hot, too heavy, the hood makes it hard to see, blah, blah.” Tyler laughed. “He just does it for attention though. Jake is always willing to take extra duty, like you saw today. He really is a great guy.”
Chris agreed wholeheartedly. They finished their meal and Chris headed back to his room, telling Tyler that he just wanted to spend the evening buried in a book. Tyler waved and headed for the games room.
Chris got lost in his book and when he finally sat back and stretched, he glanced at his phone and saw that it was after nine o'clock. Time for a little air, he thought. Maybe he'd get a chance to say hi to Jacob. Chris put on his shoes, slipped the phone in his pocket and headed out.
After checking in at the front desk, Chris walked outside and, as usual, ran into Mr. McKenna. They chatted for a few minutes about the dogs. The evening was cool but not cold and the stars were dense in the country sky. Chris took a deep breath and smelled the remnants of the day; cut grass, flowers and pine sap wafting from the nearby forest. He loved that smell.
“Have you seen Jacob around, sir?” he asked Mr. McKenna as he looked around curiously. “I thought I might run into him while I was out here.”
“He walked by a few minutes ago. It usually takes about thirty minutes to walk the perimeter, so it will be a while until he comes by again.”
“Oh.” Chris was a little disappointed. “Oh well. It's no big deal. I just wanted to say hi.”
Mr. McKenna smiled his understanding. “I'll be sure to tell him you stopped by, Mr. Wright.”
“Thanks, sir.” Chris took one more look at the glittering sky and sighed. For a city boy, he definitely liked the country. With a shrug he turned and headed for the front door.
Suddenly, lights snapped on all over the front yard. From the top of the wall, spotlights blazed down into the yard and out into the night. A shrieking siren blared through the air. Then a voice from speakers high on a central pole echoed across the area.
“Alert! Alert! Perimeter sensors indicate intruders south of the Nest. Patrols assemble at the front gates. Ghost, engage.”
Chris stood frozen several feet from the front door. There was a sudden metallic clanging sound coming from both sides of the house and Chris saw metal sheets drop down over all of the windows. He turned around in a panic and saw guards running toward the front gates from all directions. A movement from Mr. McKenna caught his eye and Chris saw him pull a long tube from his pocket and blow into it.
A dog whistle, he assumed, because he could hear nothing from the device. But in the distance there was a sudden baying as the pack could be heard racing toward them.
Chris watched as at least a dozen guards, men and women both, assembled in disciplined ranks about twenty yards away from the gates. He thought about the announcement over the speaker. Ghost again, he thought. I forgot about Ghost. Who is he or she? No one had ever brought the name up while he'd been there.
The dogs raced into view, led by Eliza. They stopped near the guards, their hackles up and heads held low. Chris had never seen a more dangerous looking group of animals.
Chris wasn't sure where to go or what to do. He looked over at Mr. McKenna, who had stayed at his post and was watching the front gates intently.
“Mr. McKenna? Sir?” Chris called. The man's head whipped around and he looked at Chris in surprise.
“Ah, Mr. Wright. I thought you'd made it indoors. Stay there, please. The house is automatically locked down during emergencies, so I'm afraid you're stuck out here with us until this is dealt with.”
“Yes sir, I'll do that.” Chris stood stiffly, fists clenched and watched everything closely.
With a shock, he saw a lone figure walk steadily toward the gate from the far end of the property. By the long coat and hood, he knew it was Jacob. He was amazed at how calmly his friend approached the group of guards. Sounds carried easily in the cool, still air and Chris could hear everything that was being said at the gate.
One of the guards stepped up to Jacob as he stopped and faced the gate.
“Sir,” the guard said. “We're waiting for Ghost to report. No contact yet.”
“Thank you,” Jacob answered calmly. Chris saw him pull a phone out of a pocket and then just stand there, waiting.
The dogs had settled down, several sat patiently. Eliza stood stiff-legged in front of them, focused on the gate.
Minutes passed and Chris heard nothing beyond the walls. He began to wonder if it had been a false alarm when a chilling scream cut through the night. He jumped and looked around frantically. A muted chime rang out and he saw Jacob tap his phone.
“Yes?” Jacob said.
“Six humans neutralized. Two lesser undead, one major entity, incoming.” It was the neutral voice of Ghost that Chris remembered from the first day he had arrived.
“Acknowledged,” Jacob answered. “Identify major.”
There was a momentary hesitation. “ Major entity identified: wraith. Threat level, high. Standing down.”
“Thank you, Ghost. We'll take it from here.”
“Copy.”
The phone clicked off and Jacob put it back in his pocket. He looked at the guards.
“Silver weapons only. Leave the wraith to me. Understood?”
A chorus of “yes sirs” rang out. Jacob looked at the pack. He reached out a hand and Eliza walked over and nudged it gently.
“Flanking only, Eliza. Don't let your children get hurt. This enemy is too strong.”
The huge dog whine
d slightly then licked his hand. She turned to look at the pack and barked once. The pack converged on her, standing close and quivering with anticipation.
The phone rang in Jacob's pocket and he answered it quickly. The speaker was still on.
“What is it?” he asked.
“The enemy is fifty yards out.” It sounded like the woman on the front desk. Chris guessed that they had cameras on the wall.
“Thank you,” Jacob said. He shut off the phone and put it back in his pocket.
“Open the gate,” he said quietly. Chris saw Mr. McKenna pulled a small box out of his pocket and push a button on it. So, he's the gatekeeper, he thought.
The double doors of the gate began to open slowly. No one moved until they were wide open. Then Chris watched with surprise as the guards pulled out what looked like long knives or short swords, gleaming silver in the bright lights of the yard.
“Engage the undead. Avoid the wraith,” Jacob said with authority. “Go now.”
The guards spread out and advanced quickly through the open gate. Chris focused his attention on Jacob,. He was scared for his friend. Jacob had never been in a battle before. And what the hell was a wraith? It sounded bad.
Jacob reached up and pushed back his hood. So much for hiding his head, Chris thought. He gasped as he saw his friend reach under his coat and draw a long sword. But it wasn't silver like the guard's weapons. It glowed red like Sariel's armor; waves of heat rising above it. And suddenly his head blazed with light, like a halo. He stood taller and Chris felt a thrill run down his spine as Janariel's wings sprouted up and through hidden slits in his coat, stretching out behind him in all their glory.
His mane of gold and brown hair rippled down over his shoulders and he stood steady, looking through the gate. Obviously he was waiting for something. The pack had all watched Jacob as he'd changed and, as a group, they wagged their tails. Chris could see how happy they were to see the angel. He was amazed at how calm they all were.
Janariel looked at Eliza. “To battle, my friend,” he said to her, his tone gentle. She threw back her head and howled. The rest of the pack joined her and then as one they raced through the gate.
There were several shouts from beyond the walls and Chris was tempted to move closer, but he was sure that Mr. McKenna would stop him and he didn't want to take the chance that he might distract Jacob from his duty.
Minutes passed and then the guards came racing back into the compound. Several were limping and one of the men had a hand clamped tightly over his forearm. But everyone seemed to be accounted for.
“Undead neutralized, sir. The field is yours.”
“Thank you, everyone,” Janariel said. He walked over to the man holding his arm and touched him lightly. There was a muted flash and Chris saw the man draw a deep breath.
“Thanks so much, sir,” he said with relief. He pulled back his sleeve. There was no wound, just some dried blood. The gift of healing, Chris thought. Just like me. That is so cool.
“My pleasure.” Janariel said. He held his sword out from his side at an angle and walked quickly through the gate.
Chapter 13
Chris watched as Janariel disappeared into the night. I can't just stand here, he thought. I have to know what to expect if my turn ever comes. If I join them, that is, was his following thought. He started to walk toward the gate and stopped abruptly as Mr. McKenna stepped in front of him.
“Where are you going, Mr. Wright?” he asked sternly. “It would be unwise to expose yourself to the dangers beyond the walls.”
Chris looked up at him and frowned. “My friend is about to get into a fight. Someday soon I may have to do the same. I need to know what we're up against. Can you understand that?”
The man stared at him for a long moment, then stepped aside.
“Yes, I believe I can.” He smiled crookedly. “Besides, I don't have any authority over you, Mr. Wright. Judge Hawkes has made that abundantly clear.”
“He has?” Chris said, feeling a bit thick. “Um, oh. Okay. Well, thanks sir. See you soon.” And with that he hurried across the yard.
Chris passed the group of guards, all of whom watched him intently but made no move to stop him. Several nodded and he waved and hurried on.
Once he was out on the wide, grassy lawn that stretched a hundred yards or more to the edge of the forest, Chris stopped and stared.
Janariel was still advancing, moving more slowly now, toward a spot in the middle of the clearing that the dogs were circling; baying and growling. A light shone from the center of the circle. It was very bright against the darkness. Similar to the silver light given off by the angels, it was tinged with red and yellow, the color of a bruise. It looked sickly and diseased.
Within the pulsing light stood a figure that towered over Janariel. Its form wavered and undulated, not remaining solid for more than a few seconds at a time. It flapped like an old sheet in the wind, but the air was still and cold. Even the sound that Chris could hear wavered and changed pitch and strength; now a wail of anger and then changing to a scream of rage. It was the most horrible thing he had ever experienced.
Janariel stopped a dozen yards away from it and Chris heard him call off the dogs and send them back to the house. They retreated, barking and growling in protest as they passed Chris and ran back through the gate. And then the angel that was his friend stood alone.
“You shall go no further, Fallen One,” Janariel called out to the thing. “This house and its inhabitants are under my protection. Go back to Hell and leave this world in peace.”
The creature gave out a shivering laugh, like nails screeching across a chalkboard. It did not answer but from somewhere it drew out a long pole with a jagged blade affixed to the end. The blade dripped some sort of thick, crimson liquid.
Suddenly the wraith lifted its weapon. The light that it was emitting flared even brighter and Chris flinched away from it, feeling a wave of deep cold that left him with frost on his eyelashes. His breath fogged the air in front of him and it felt like he was standing outside in the middle of winter. He shivered violently.
With a quick, darting movement almost too fast to see, the monster leaped toward Janariel and swung its weapon in a shrieking arc at the angel's head.
Janariel calmly stepped back and brought his sword up, countering the blow. Sparks flew from the impact and he staggered slightly, but immediately recovered and stood still again, awaiting the next attack.
This happened several times in a row. Each time, the wraith screamed its rage when its attack was countered. Janariel said nothing; he simply waited passively to parry each attack.
Chris wondered when Janariel would counter-attack. He was no expert, but there were several instances when he was sure he saw an opening that Janariel could have used to hit the wraith. But he didn't. He was confused by the angel's lack of aggression. How was he supposed to beat the thing if he wouldn't hit it?
The cold was making him shudder and now a stench of putrescence was thick in the air, as if the more the wraith fought, the more it was rotting and decomposing. Chris felt his stomach roil as he tried not to vomit.
'Chris,' he heard someone say and turned around quickly. Except for the angel and the demon, there was no one in sight. Had Janariel called him? No, he was focused entirely on his foe.
'Chris,' he heard it again. And then he realized that he wasn't hearing it with his ears; it was coming from inside of him.
'Sariel?' he asked silently. 'Is that you?'
'Indeed it is. We have a problem. Janariel cannot win this battle. He will soon exhaust his human host and then the wraith will win.'
'What? What are you talking about? He's doing fine.' Chris watched as Janariel blocked the wraith yet again.
'No, he is not. Janariel is young as angels go, and while Jacob has had some training, he has no experience. So all they are doing is blocking. Janariel is inhibited. He does not want to inflict pain on another, not even an enemy like this. Jacob is frankly terrified a
nd is following Janariel's lead. It will get them killed.'
Chris swallowed nervously. He watched Janariel more closely and realized that he could hear him panting with exertion. His arm was still steady but he did seem to be slowing, his counter-strikes not as crisp and powerful as they were earlier.
'I have to do something!' Chris said to Sariel. 'I can get the guards, or the dogs. Both! I can get both.'
'They cannot harm a Fallen One, Chris. The two undead they destroyed were just corpses reanimated by damned souls. This is a fallen angel. And it is older than Janariel, experienced and filled with a vicious hatred. They will all try to help, of course, but the only thing they will accomplish is to die bravely.'
'Okay, then I'll get some of the others with angelic souls from the house.' Chris actually turned toward the Nest before Sariel's voice stopped him.
'The house is locked down, Chris. By the time you get in, this battle will be over.'
Chris watched, appalled, as the wraith swung yet again at Janariel. The angel blocked again but this time, as quick as thought, the monster reversed its weapon and slammed the blunt end across Janariel's body.
Janariel flew back and rolled away from the wraith, his wings held tightly to his body. Then he sprang to his feet and stood again, waiting.
'You see, he is tiring. Time is running out, Chris. Something must be done and soon.'
'What can I do? I can't hurt that thing,' Chris thought frantically.
'I can, Christopher. This is your time of choice, my other half. I am sorry that you are in this position, but if you want my help, then you must choose. Put on the ring and we can stop that creature, now. Or do not and watch your friend die. Know though that only Jacob's mortal body will die. He and Janariel will be reunited in spirit and returned to Heaven, so there is that thought to comfort you.'
'Comfort me?' Chris was furious. 'He's my friend. I don't give a damn about his spirit. I want him to live!' He continued to watch the battle. Janariel was now backing away from the wraith, blocking attacks and trying to keep his distance. Chris noticed that he was limping slightly.
Confronting the Fallen Page 16
