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Trinity

Page 8

by Deena Remiel


  All the Brethren began stepping forward, offering hearty pats on the back, while Michael and Emma stood dazed and confused. Hannah peered back and forth between the two.

  “Why are they congratulating? Are we going to be a family now, Mama? Huh? Are we?” Emma gawked at Michael. She was at a total loss for words. He came to the rescue.

  “I consider all of my good friends my family, sweetie.”

  Snapped back to reality, Emma spoke, with an air of authority that felt unusually comfortable on her. “Well put, Michael. Raphael, I need you to fix me, now. We’ve got dinner to eat and work to do, and if there aren’t any more surprises to be unleashed, I’d like to head on back to the house and get started.” Emma softened, “Will you be with me while Raphael does whatever it is Raphael does to me?”

  “Of course.” He lifted her hand to his mouth to kiss it. “I won’t leave your side. But if you’ll excuse me, I need a couple minutes here alone with Gabriel.” She was wary as he let go of her hand, but walked back to the house with Hannah in tow.

  ***

  “Gabriel, wait!”

  Gabriel turned around and walked back to Michael. “Hey, what’s up, brother?”

  “Brother, this is messed up!” He paced back and forth like a caged tiger. He bent down and picked up a dead branch from a Mesquite tree and started whacking away at some unruly shrubbery. “There’s no way I could be the Great Protector, Gabriel. I couldn’t even protect my own family, damn it! My own wife, my unborn child, I couldn’t protect them. And now I’m supposed to be the Great Protector? It doesn’t add up. It’s got to be someone else, Gabriel. It’s one thing to protect the mother and child right now, and something completely different to protect the world. I need to talk to the boss man immediately. He’s got to know this isn’t right.”

  “What good’s talking to E.L. going to do, Michael? He’s our boss. You know we don’t have a say in the tasks that are assigned to us. We can only make good choices along the way, brother. He’s got a plan, a reason for doing this to you and not to someone else. Trust E.L. He’s never steered you wrong.”

  “Oh, really? So, disabling my alert system so Agremon could get to Beth wasn’t wrong? I disagree.”

  “You know how I felt about Beth and what happened. But don’t you see? If that day never occurred, you wouldn’t be here right now, assuming a role that will save this world from Evil. Michael, E.L. knows what he’s doing. You’re the best man for the job.”

  “Ha! That’s a good one.”

  “You’ve already felt what’s at stake here. You’ve had and lost. That’s something none of us can say, and in this instance, that’s not a plus. Come on, you don’t have to think on it right now. Just keep doing what you’re doing and I know it will grow on you.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I wish I had your confidence. Why don’t you go on up to the house? I’ll be there in a minute. Let me try and clear my head first.”

  “No problem.” Gabriel offered him a hearty thump on the shoulder then started towards the house.

  Michael watched as his friend climbed the stairs to the back porch, and then his gaze veered off into the forest.

  Prophecy couldn’t have dictated the deaths of his wife and child. Could it? For a Protector to be rendered helpless as he watched his family die was cruel and heartless. What must he have done in all his eternal years to have deserved to witness such a tragedy? How was he going to continue in his duty to Emma and Hannah knowing the failure that he truly was? Intentions were only as effective as the actions that backed them up. His actions have not been living up to Brethren standards. And now to be called a Great Protector? Not possible!

  He stood by the shrubs, inadequate, troubled, small.

  He sensed Emma’s presence behind him and he turned. His breath caught as he watched her walk resolutely down the stair, closing the distance between them. Her eyes fixed firmly on his. He could only imagine what she saw in them. Pain maybe, anguish and guilt, for certain.

  In hers, he saw redemption.

  He couldn’t move, stayed by emotions long kept hidden away and suppressed. Emma stood before him, a petite yet strong woman, with a fragile yet fierce heart. He could bear it no longer. He needed to touch her, to absorb the latent power within her. He outstretched his arms in desperation and dropped to his knees, beseeching.

  A small cry escaped her lips. She met him on the ground and simply embraced him. He held onto her as he had no other; not even Beth. Like she was his anchor in rough seas. The grief, the helplessness, the fear, and the fury poured out of him and into her. She gasped.

  ***

  Emma succumbed to the depth and ferocity of emotions assaulting her heart. Michael held onto her as though he were drowning. His horror, his trauma, his eternal anguish seeped into every molecule of her brain. It was then, deep in her soul, that she knew she was the only one who could save him. And it was then that she decided she would.

  A single tear managed to escape and trail down her cheek. “I know, Michael. You don’t have to say anything. I know, and I’m so sorry. I’m here for you as you’ve been here for me. And I’m not going anywhere. Never doubt that,” Emma professed with an intensity that surprised her.

  She framed his face in her hands and gently brushed his lips with hers. It was the kind of kiss that demanded nothing and gave everything. And through this connection, Emma began healing his damaged heart with her powers. She could see tiny tears fighting to escape the corners of Michael’s eyes and then dare to cascade down his cheeks. Emma released his lips to sip them away.

  He cried out in agony, “Oh God, Emma! No! I can’t let you do this for me. Not yet. You’re damaged yourself.” He pulled away from her and doubled over. She quickly reached out for him and again, he moved away.

  “I’m well enough to do this. I must. You can’t continue living with your pain and suffering like this. Let me finish what I’ve started. Come back to me, Michael, please. Come back to me. Let me save you. You’ve been suffering too long.” This time, when she beckoned, he let her hold him. She embraced him and stroked his hair ever so gently. As she sent a warm, soothing sensation through him, he began to heal. She didn’t know how she knew what to do, as instinct had taken over. As she worked her healing arts on him, she sensed his pain ease and his grief release layer by layer. She tried to relieve his rage, his need for vengeance, but those threads were far too strong for her to touch with her emergent skills. After a few moments, he stood stronger and more confident.

  “Emma,” he murmured and found her lips once again. This time, the kiss did demand. He claimed her, body and soul, branding her so that no one could mistake his property. Her arms flew around his neck as she accepted his mark, and she deepened the assault. She never wanted to let go and held on even tighter, amazed at how perfectly they fit together, how spectacular their bodies blended into one. A thought flittered through her mind and stuck. He is the one. All is as it should be. Finally, she reigned in her emotions long enough to release from his searing kiss. He leaned his forehead against hers.

  They both clung to each other and breathed heavily as he spoke in a throaty voice, “I-I don’t know what to say. You know, you know my suffering. And you’re still here. You’re incredible.” He feathered feverish caresses on her forehead. “But now, we’ve got to fix you. I won’t stand for Agremon’s terror being inside you for another minute. I’ll be damned if I let anything happen to you li—” He choked on the words. “Okay, if we are to be this Trinity, as Gabriel is saying, we’ve got to be in top form.” He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips. As he pressed them into her palm, his gazed pierced through to her soul.

  “I’m ready for our destiny, Emma. Are you?”

  “Yes, Michael. I don’t know, maybe it’s my ancient ancestors speaking to me, but something tells me I should be. So with you, with Hannah, with the Brethren, I believe we can conquer Evil. We can do this.”

  Her hand remained in his as they walked back to the house with a new resolve.
Raphael greeted them at the door. “Are you ready to be healed?”

  “Yes, Raphael, I am. Is it going to hurt? What should I expect?” she asked tentatively. Her stomach lurched as she contemplated all sorts of bizarre treatments occurring.

  “You’ll feel a little lightheaded after I’ve removed Agremon’s threads from your mind, but after that you’ll be astounded by your heightened senses. I’d still wear Michael’s talisman, though. You still need to be protected. I doubt Agremon will stop trying to get what he needs by any means possible.”

  “All right, then. Let’s get on with it.”

  The three of them walked into the family room to find it loaded with the rest of the Brethren. The healing took place in her bedroom. As promised, her Protector was by her side for support. It really was as Raphael said it would be. When he placed his hand directly on her forehead, she immediately felt lightheaded and grabbed onto Michael. Then, Raphael waved his palm about an inch over her heart. Healing energy surged through her and eased her spirit.

  The whole process only took about five minutes. And the difference in Emma’s focus, her attitude, and the way she absorbed the world around her was immediate. Everything was so sharp and crystal clear. Colors were more vibrant, sounds that she hadn’t heard before were audible. Smells were more intense. All was as expected, Raphael had assured her. All of her senses had been enhanced as her powers awakened. Agremon’s hold on her mind had created a barrier that now no longer existed.

  “Dinner’s here!” shouted Hannah. As the trio came out of the bedroom, Hannah ran up to them and grabbed Emma’s and Michael’s hands. There was an immediate surge of energy and the place lit up like the Fourth of July.

  “Whoa! Would everybody kindly let go, please. You’re blinding us with your aura.” Raphael shielded his eyes. They immediately let go of each other. “Now then, Michael, you’re going to have to add a little something to those talisman necklaces Emma and the Warrior Child are wearing. Some kind of incantation that will allow you three to use your aura when needed and still shield the rest of us from the blinding light. Until you’ve got something, I suggest you don’t hold hands at the same time, okay?”

  “Sorry, brother.” He chuckled. “I’ll get to work on it right after we eat dinner. Let’s go.”

  Dinner was remarkable in that it was completely unremarkable. Emma sat at the head with Michael to one side and Hannah on the other. The rest of the Brethren behaved like any other hungry bunch of men gathered around a table. They allowed themselves for the briefest of time to converse on all things mundane, like who their picks were for the World Series, and taunted each other over previous escapades gone awry. She could almost forget they were immortal. She scanned the table and thought, this is so…normal. But unfortunately she knew it was a façade, and it would soon fade.

  Normal had gone on an extended vacation, and there were no signs of it returning anytime soon.

  Chapter Fourteen

  He loved the name, Superstition, and the fact that it was assigned to a mountain made it that much more dramatic. Namirha could play off the name and hook followers in a snap at the Homecoming on Sunday. The building of the Global Headquarters was proceeding right on schedule. He could think of no better way to celebrate than with the ritual binding to the child known as Hannah. She was his road to infinite glory and total domination of the world. Namirha looked out the window of his limo towards the mountain, towards the very top. When he ruled over the world, no longer would the mountain tops be reserved for the righteous. Oh no! They would be cast out and he would be exalted! Of course, he could always vacation in the depths of Hell. He did so enjoy it down there.

  “Agremon!” Namirha roared. Agremon appeared instantly in the limo, and knelt before Namirha. “Get up and report.”

  “Well, my Lord, I’ve hit a bit of a snag. I got the mother out of the way, but I believe the Brethren are now involved. I saw the Protector’s talisman around the child’s neck. With that shielding her, I couldn’t get close. I shall find another way. The Protector, known as Michael, and I have history. I plan on using it to my advantage.”

  “You know, I’d like to help you, Agremon. You’ve been so resourceful with keeping the followers in line. And I recognize how hard you’ve been working to get the child. Now, with the Brethren involved, things could get very, shall I say, uncomfortable for me and my minions. So, let me do this for you. Let me remind you what is in store for you should you fail me in this monumental task.” With a wave of his hand, Namirha delivered a blow that slashed through Agremon’s midsection. His organs slowly oozed out onto his lap while he looked on in horror.

  “What’s the matter, Agremon? Why are you so shocked? You know you won’t die. No, I wouldn’t do that to you. But can you imagine the rest of your eternity living through this over and over again? How about I add a little bit of this as well?” He waved his hand again and Agremon’s skin tore away from his body, leaving muscle and sinew exposed to the air. He shrieked in abject agony. With another wave of his hand, Namirha returned Agremon’s body to its original state. “What do you think, Agremon? You bring me the child, or spend the rest of eternity reliving these past few moments over and over again.”

  Breathless from the pain of torture, Agremon spoke through gritted teeth. “I will get the child, my Lord. And I will see the Protector pays for my pain and labors.”

  “You are to do no such thing. We are not ready to do battle with the Brethren. After the homecoming we will need to train the new followers. If there is a battle to be fought, it shall happen after the blood ritual with the child. I can’t have anything disrupt my plan. You are not to engage the Brethren, yet. Do you understand, Agremon?”

  “Yes, my Lord. I understand. But understand this, if I can’t touch the Brethren, and they have the child, you may miss your only chance to rule this world.”

  “Find a way to get the child here, Agremon. Mark my words, I will rule over this world, and no Brethren or sorry excuse for a fallen angel will stop me.” Namirha pointed a bony finger at Agremon and zapped him out of the limo. Where he zapped him to, he had no clue, nor did he care.

  ***

  Agremon spat on the dusty ground, right outside the worship center. Nearly foaming at the mouth from anger, he went on a rampage through the followers’ tents. Someone had to be asleep. All he needed was one, just one to terrorize and release his anger upon. He stalked through the rows and rows of tents, ruminating over his plans.

  Michael, the Protector, would surely pay for this latest undressing by Namirha. He would see to it. The hell with waiting! Agremon the Terrible was done with all the thwarted attempts to get the child. He’d get her all right, but he was definitely going after Michael, too.

  For now, someone was sleeping. Someone who wasn’t a true believer yet, who needed to be scared into submission. Frightening a mortal, that would make him feel a whole lot better.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Dinner had been finished a long time ago. Michael added a sacred incantation to the talismans Emma and her daughter wore to dampen the brilliant aura the Trinity created, and Hannah was now up to her eyeballs in swordplay with her warriors. They had decided to start with sword fighting since she had shown such a proclivity towards it when they had first met. Her mother could tell she was having the time of her life with these men. She was more animated than she’d been for the past six months. The Brethren didn’t treat her like a child, but rather, like one of their own.

  It was the strangest thing to see from an outsider’s perspective, but to these men, these warriors, it was Hannah’s body that was six years old. Her soul on the other hand, held the wisdom and the power of an ancient warrior. As she trained, the little girl that was Hannah seemed to be pushed aside, allowing the Ancient Warrior soul out. Her mother looked on in wonder as she observed the subtle transformation of her baby girl into the ancient warrior. She could scarcely imagine what it must be like to be an ancient warrior’s soul trapped in a little girl’s body. To
even acknowledge that such a thing could occur was simply mind-boggling. Yet here she was, watching her daughter deftly swing a sword as though it was a natural extension of her arm. But Hannah still was that little girl, and it was time for her to go to bed.

  “Gentlemen, it’s time for our little warrior to go to bed now. Tomorrow’s another day, and she needs her rest.” Emma signaled for Hannah to drop the sword and head inside.

  “Hannah has shown great talent for the sword,” Kemuel reported. “Tomorrow, we will work on her mind. Good night, Great Warrior Child. Sleep well.”

  “Oh I will, Kemuel. I’ve got a magic necklace to help me,” she boasted with a huge grin.

  “Why you’ve got Michael’s special talisman. It is certain you will have a peaceful rest.”

  “Let Agremon try to get to me tonight. Why, I’ll—I’ll…” she stammered.

  “Okay, kiddo. Let’s head on in. No more thinking about the A-man before bed. Thank you for taking good care of her during training. I don’t see a scratch on her at all. But I do see a couple of scrapes on you, Kemuel,” Emma observed, looking him over and finding herself quite amused.

  “As I said, she has shown quite a talent for the sword and fighting,” Kemuel replied flatly.

  “Yes, well, we’ll just go on in then. You should have Raphael take a look at those.” She took her daughter by the hand and went into the house.

  “I got him real good a couple times, Mama, real good,” Hannah gushed.

  “I’m so proud of you, honey, I think,” she responded awkwardly. Was this really something to be proud of? She hadn’t a clue. Emma approached Hannah’s bedtime for the first time in months with ease. After all, they both wore Michael’s talisman now, and they had a houseful of angels. It couldn’t get more secure than that.

 

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