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Trusting an Angel

Page 3

by Missy Jane


  “Yes,” Bill finally said. “He kind of is.”

  Chapter Two

  Zerach yanked off his bowtie and threw it on top of his jacket, which lay crumpled on the living room floor. There must be a breach somewhere in the mortal plane. His earlier encounter had only been the first of the night, but the sense of evil nearby pulled him away from the fundraiser. After finding two more minor demons feeding and dispatching them, Zerach had come to realize there was a serious problem in Houston. Demons were entering the world of humans at an accelerated pace, and they needed to be stopped.

  They were like cockroaches, always finding a way in, and impossible to get rid of once they had. He wished he could stomp them out the same way. Usually something monumental was required to summon a demon, a blood sacrifice, a promise or an oath not easily redeemed. Someone in Houston had tapped into a local portal and let multiple minor demons in. But for what purpose?

  He had to find the breach soon before it became a tear large enough for an upper level demon to enter through. The minions were a nuisance, but an upper level demon could not only command the minions to do its bidding, it could control humans as well. It was a headache Zerach and his brothers could certainly do without.

  The last time they’d fought such a mess, Gabriel had been among them. But the Source of All Creation had stopped talking through him, rendering Gabriel mute and seemingly ending his purpose. Though the brothers had all tried to help him recover, Gabriel had left them to wander the human realm. Being cut off from even a single one of his brothers pained him.

  As if summoned by his thoughts, the presence of one of his brothers permeated the air. Zerach grinned as he opened the door to his balcony. Salt-tinged air wafted in and filled his lungs with the sea. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, allowing other concerns to leave for a moment.

  The sound of flapping wings brought his attention back to the present, and he searched the night for the source. The cloudy sky showed nothing, not even a passing plane broke up the blackness, but he didn’t have to wait long before the sound changed from wings flapping to booted feet hitting the tiled floor.

  “Zerachiel,” a deep voice said in the darkness.

  “Raphael.”

  An imposing figure with short blond hair stepped into the light cast from the kitchen. Rafe’s massive black wings disappeared into his broad back as if they’d never been. He was shirtless, as usual when on patrol, to allow his wings to easily unfurl at need. They embraced briefly before Rafe sat on the black leather sofa, rested his head against the back, and stared up at the ceiling.

  “A drink would be nice. The usual if you have it.”

  Zerach smirked. “I always keep a gallon of chocolate milk on hand in case you drop by.”

  Rafe lifted his head and shook it slightly. “Humans put chocolate in everything.”

  “And on everything,” Zerach added, as he walked into the open kitchen area.

  “True. Have you tried chocolate-covered strawberries? They’re fucking amazing.”

  Zerach laughed at the look of rapture on his brother’s face. “Only you would be so fascinated with food.”

  “Not just me. Millions of humans are as well.”

  He nodded as he returned to the living room with a glass of chocolate milk for Rafe and bottled beer for himself. “Yes, humans are remarkable creatures.”

  His brother took the glass with an unreadable expression on his face. “Yup, which brings us to the reason for my visit.”

  Zerach sat beside Rafe, then took a long pull on his beer, letting the cold work its way down his parched throat. He swallowed slowly, savoring every nuance of flavor his unique being allowed him to taste. There were many drawbacks to not being human, but there were even more advantages to his angelic state. Immortality had always topped the list for him, but lately his perspectives were changing. Lost in thought, he nearly forgot his brother’s presence.

  “You certainly have a thoughtful look on your face. Somehow I don’t think it has anything to do with chocolate.”

  Zerach shook his head both in answer and to clear it. “So, why are you here?”

  “It’s about the demon you killed earlier…and your visit with a certain woman.”

  Zerach merely met Rafe’s stare, though his thoughts were churning. It was no surprise Rafe knew about the demon. But having any sort of interest in one after its disposal was unusual. Knowing about Isadora was another unexpected turn. Zerach had tried to fight any turbulent emotion while in her presence and obviously he hadn’t done a very good job. He’d avoid that subject for now.

  “It was a minion,” Zerach said. “Nothing but a lowly bottom feeder. Why?”

  Rafe finished his drink and set the empty glass on the coffee table. “I’m afraid it was more than that. It was a portent of things to come.”

  Zerach fought the urge to roll his eyes. “It was no more than a blood-and-soul-sucking vermin. There hasn’t been a true omen in centuries.”

  “Then I’d say we’re due one, yes?”

  “No. I think you’re jumping at shadows now. You’ve been spending too much time with Mike.”

  Rafe laughed and shook his head. “Even if I have been, and I’m not saying I haven’t, that demon was much more than it appeared to be. There were…repercussions from its demise.”

  “What kind of repercussions?”

  “I felt a shift in the ether, as if a portal opened again…or an existing one opened wider. I killed two more demons after that encounter.”

  “So did I. Damn. I didn’t even consider the next two might have come through because of the first one. I thought I had just missed them on my previous sweeps. How in the hell is it even possible for a group of them to slip through in one night?”

  Before Rafe could reply the sound of wings on the breeze entered the open patio doors.

  “And then there were three,” he said with a knowing grin.

  This time Zerach did roll his eyes. “Tell me you didn’t call him.”

  “I didn’t call him,” Rafe replied.

  Zerach sighed and rose to his feet. From the shadows, a voice said, “Zerachiel.”

  Another tall, broad chest came into view from the shadowed patio. Deep golden wings disappeared as the man stepped into the dim illumination of the kitchen light bleeding into the living room. His dark brown hair grew almost to his shoulders, a sure sign Michael had been busy lately. Of all of them, he was usually the one most concerned with his appearance. The faded denim and dusty boots shocked Zerach, but he said nothing as he embraced his brother.

  “Mike, welcome to our soiree,” Rafe said. Both Mike and Zerach gave him a look before facing each other again.

  “Welcome, brother,” Zerach said.

  “It’s good to see you,” Mike replied with a nod. He turned his attention to Rafe. “Raphael, I’m not surprised to find you here, though I didn’t realize you were in the area.”

  “Weren’t you in Madrid two days ago?” Rafe asked. “What brought you back so quickly?”

  Mike walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator in silence. Zerach looked at Rafe as they waited for him to respond. Mike grabbed a beer and returned to the living room, taking a seat beside Rafe on the sofa. Mike took a long drink, then let out a deep breath. “I found Gabriel.” Zerach and Rafe stared at Mike in shock. “I know exactly where he is but I haven’t approached him. He is safe and healthy.”

  He took another pull on his beer.

  “Does he know you know where he is?” Rafe asked.

  Mike shrugged. “Most likely, though he didn’t show it. I couldn’t read him, but I watched him interact with the humans around him and he seems…normal. I’d hate to interrupt his hiatus if it’s helping him heal.”

  All three remained silent for a few minutes, Mike and Zerach finishing their beers. Zerach took Mike’s empty bottle and threw it with his into the kitchen trash. He then sat in a recliner facing his brothers. “I think you’re right to leave Gabe to his own devices for the
time being.”

  “But for how long?” Rafe asked.

  “As long as it takes,” Mike replied. “He’ll heal in time and, who knows, perhaps eventually the situation will change.”

  Zerach snorted and Rafe smirked at Mike’s statement. “The situation has been the same for over two thousand years. I hardly expect it to change anytime soon,” Rafe said.

  Zerach shook his head. “I’m certain The Source hears us, it’s just the listening that has stopped.”

  “We’ve debated that too much over the centuries. Gabe just grew tired of being ignored,” Rafe replied. “And being unable to communicate even telepathically.”

  “He’s the messenger. It’s what he was created for. What would any of us do if we lost our purpose?” Mike asked.

  They all fell silent. Gabriel had been struck mute suddenly and unexpectedly, as if from one moment to the next he was there in their minds, and then gone. Pleading with their creator hadn’t done a damn bit of good. Attempting every form of human and angelic healing hadn’t worked either.

  Zerach fetched more beer and the conversation turned away from the painful loss of their brother.

  “Rafe thinks the minor demon is a portent,” Zerach said.

  Mike looked thoughtful for a moment before shaking his head. “Doubtful, but I’ll ask Cam to check the archives.”

  Their brother Camael was in charge of their history. He kept it under strict lock and key in his home, away from prying human eyes. There was more information in his personal library than had been lost in Alexandria.

  “Even if Cam finds nothing, I have a really bad feeling about this one,” Rafe said. “I dreamed of the encounter before witnessing it.”

  That certainly got Zerach’s attention. “You dreamed? Of me killing the demon?”

  “Yeah. It’s been years since I’ve had any dream, much less a prophetic one.”

  “And then you just kicked back and watched?”

  That made them all chuckle.

  “You needed help?” Mike asked.

  “Of course not. But he could’ve said hello.”

  Rafe stood and took his empty glass to the kitchen then brought back more beer.

  “So let’s talk worst case scenario here,” Zerach said. “If it is some type of omen and the breach is larger than normal, how do we close it?”

  Mike shrugged as Rafe returned to his spot on the sofa. “It would take a sacrifice as large as the one that opened it, most likely.”

  “We don’t spill innocent blood,” Zerach said.

  “Of course not.” Rafe waved that away. “Evil opens the door, goodness closes it. When I say sacrifice, I don’t necessarily mean death. The offering can take many forms. We just have to find one.”

  “Easier said than done,” Mike said. “How many humans do you know would be willing to sacrifice anything without receiving something of equal value in return? There is so little goodness left in this world. We might be fighting a losing battle.”

  Zerach’s gaze shot to his brother. Mike led them and his faith had never wavered before. Hearing even the slightest doubt from his lips was blasphemy. “What’s gotten into you?”

  Mike shrugged and finished off another beer. “Bad day, I guess.”

  “A rough client?” Rafe asked.

  “A rough assignment. If I have to hide another woman from her asshole, abusive husband I just might start killing the men instead.”

  Mike’s human persona as a security firm owner definitely had its down side. He was an imposing figure that often didn’t have to do more than glare at his adversaries. Unfortunately, sometimes there were idiot humans who liked to test him anyway.

  “Was the woman all right?” Zerach asked.

  “Yeah. She was one of Cam’s clients. Her husband threatened her in the middle of a damn counseling session. He thought it would be best if I just got her out of there before it escalated.”

  They shared a knowing look. Even after centuries among humans there were times when their behavior appalled the angels. Zerach shook his head and wondered how any human could have so little regard for life or love. Cam was a marriage counselor who saw the ugliness between the sexes on a daily basis. His capacity for understanding and patience amazed Zerach. Give him a fist fight with a demon any day.

  Rafe returned to the kitchen with as many bottles as he could carry. Zerach was surprised to see how much beer they had consumed in so short a time, but of course they all remained stone-cold sober.

  They talked a bit more about the lower-level demons popping up around the city. There was no rhyme or reason to where they showed up. Rafe had a map in his house to show the sightings and admitted there was no obvious pattern. For the moment they simply had to be more vigilant. Someone had summoned those demons, and Zerach needed to figure out which human would be so stupid.

  …

  Moonlight filtered through the thin pink curtains, creating flowered patterns across Isadora’s abdomen. She watched her kitten, Stanley, bat at them with one paw as he rested atop her. Midnight had passed, and though she should be asleep she simply couldn’t stop her mind from churning. Now she was stuck at a crossroads she’d never expected to face: marry Jake Deagan or allow her godparents to fall into financial ruin. A decision she shouldn’t have to make.

  She pondered the issue for a few minutes more before giving up on sleep with a sigh. She rolled out of bed with Stanley in one hand, depositing him on the floor to follow at her heels as she made her way to the bathroom for a long soak in a steaming bubble bath. Tears burned her eyes, and she let them fall unchecked as no obvious solution came to mind. She slapped the water in frustration, and Stanley meowed at her.

  “What the hell am I supposed to do?”

  He stood on his hind legs and rested his front paws on the side of the tub, staring at her with innocent curiosity. She lifted a hand over the side and let a couple of water droplets fall on his little nose. He batted at them, bringing a smile to her face. But it quickly disappeared, and she rested back against the tub.

  “It’s hopeless.”

  Her current job as Zerach Maxwell’s secretary paid well enough to live on, but not nearly enough to support her godparents. She did have a trust fund set up by her parents, but she had already earmarked that for another important use. A glance down through the clearing water brought her ultimate goals into focus.

  Neither Bill nor Alice knew the extent of the scars Isadora hid beneath her modest attire…no one did. She hated the lack of intimacy in her life, but what man would want her with skin marred by burns from her breasts to knees? Shame filled her as she looked at her nude body. She had planned for their removal years ago. Her godparents knew that was what her money would go to. Even if they could access it before her twenty-fifth birthday, they wouldn’t touch it.

  She got out of the tub and dried quickly, avoiding looking in the mirror or at her scars any longer than absolutely necessary. She decided to search the Internet for any alternative, although Bill insisted he’d already looked into grants. Apparently they weren’t in the position for a loan either. But what if she could get one?

  Two hours later she growled in frustration and went back to bed. Nothing currently available fit their needs. Even if they were willing to sell all their assets, and she didn’t want them living like paupers, it would only be a temporary fix. They needed something to get them through the next couple of years until the company showed a profit again. Jake’s offer to buy the company and leave Bill as CEO was ideal. It gave them the influx of funds they needed and kept Bill where he wanted to be. Anything less would be a major blow to his pride that could affect his health.

  There was one other option Isadora tried to avoid thinking about. Zerach and his brothers dabbled in various investments in all kinds of industries and all seemed to be very well off. He paid her more than she deserved and was overly generous with his close friends. What if she asked him for a personal loan? Or better yet, what if she asked him to look into buying Bill’
s company?

  That thought sent a jolt through her. If Jake thought the company was worth the investment then surely Zerach would be willing to at least take a look…right? She tossed and turned as the possibilities ran through her head. What if she was wrong and Jake was just being generous? What if Bill refused to do business with Zerach regardless of his needs?

  She knew they talked on occasion at the various fundraising events, but it was no secret Alice didn’t think much of her boss. Her godmother had been angry for weeks when she took the job, but Isadora had doubted Zerach was a shady businessman. Now that she worked for him, she knew he was legitimate and followed the letter of the law. Unfortunately, Alice still believed the rumors from her circle of friends.

  But what if he would help them?

  The only real way to know was to simply ask. Of course that was easier said than done. Despite having a good working relationship with him, Zerach intimidated her. It certainly didn’t help that he starred in all of her most secret fantasies, or that she wished one day he would see her as more than his secretary. It was hopeless really. She thought about the man way too much and had to stifle sighing like a schoolgirl when he first walked into the office every morning. His voice alone sent a shiver down her spine and warmed her most secret spots. If he knew even half of what went on in her head when he dictated memos he would probably fire her on the spot…or take her on his desk.

  She shook her head. No. She needed to concentrate on helping Bill and Alice out of their financial mess. First thing tomorrow she would go to their house so she could find out the details. Then she would see if there were any other alternatives. Marrying Jake might not be a fate worse than death, but she wasn’t going to consider it unless all other options had been exhausted.

  The next afternoon Isadora looked around her godparents’ house with new eyes. It was ridiculous how much clutter Alice kept on hand for appearance’s sake, and she refused to get rid of any of it. Not that it really mattered. The miniature tea sets and porcelain dolls may have cost a pretty penny when she bought them, but their resale value wasn’t worth the effort. The living room looked like something out of an old Victorian ladies’ catalogue. Pastel colors and floral prints abounded on furniture that was nice to look at but uncomfortable to sit on for more than a few minutes at a time. Isadora had always secretly hated the room, but it was Alice’s favorite place to sit and chat.

 

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