by S. J. West
Nina keeps the map open but backs out of the folder to click on another folder named T-7-DG2. Within this folder is yet another picture icon. It’s the same map with a different area highlighted in Jordan, named Khirbat en-Nahas. Again, Nina leaves this second map open next to the first, and backs out of the folder to click on the next one named T-7-DG3. The map within this folder identifies an area in Israel named the Timna Valley. The last folder, labeled T-7-DG4, also has a picture icon, but it isn’t a map. It’s a picture of a place I’ve been to before, The Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem. It is the site where Zack received his talisman, which manifested itself as dagger tattoos on his arms.
“Is that all you were able to find?” Brand asks, staring at the maps and picture of the Dome of the Rock. “Nothing else?”
“Nothing,” Nina confirms, taking a step back from the table. “Nothing I could find easily, anyway.”
“Do these places have any significance to you?” I ask Brand.
Brand looks up from the screen, to me.
“Yes,” he says, looking troubled. “They’re all places that can be connected to King Solomon. I just don’t know why they’re important to Lucian.”
“It might be a good idea to send people out to these locations,” Mason suggests. “See if there is any activity at any of them. My guess is that they’re looking for something.”
“Do you think they’re looking for the Ark of the Covenant?” Brand questions, but I can tell from the look on his face that he doesn’t have much faith in his speculation.
“Of what use are a couple of old tablets?” Malcolm says, also appearing doubtful. “They can’t do much with them.”
“God imbued them with His grace,” Brand says. “Maybe they can use the residual energy the tablets possess to boost the power of the seals they haven’t opened yet.”
“I suppose anything is possible,” Mason concedes. “If that’s the case, then we need to get to the Ark before they do.”
“Do any of you know where it is?” I ask.
“I do,” I hear Michael say inside my head, just before he materializes across the table from me. “At least, I know where it is in our reality.”
As the angels around me profess they don’t know where the Ark is located, I hold up a hand to stop them from speaking.
“Michael knows,” I tell them, giving my Archangel my undivided attention. “Where is it?”
“Solomon kept the Ark inside his temple. After he died, I decided to hide the temple and its contents from the world, within an inner realm. That’s why there has never been any archeological evidence of the temple’s existence. I didn’t want the tablets to fall into the wrong hands. It’s possible my counterpart in this reality took the same precautions.”
I tell those around me exactly what Michael just said.
“It sounds like something our Michael would do,” Brand says, considering this new information. “If that’s true, then we shouldn’t have anything to worry about. Michael would be the only one who can access that particular inner realm.”
“Not necessarily,” Michael tells me. “I made sure I wasn’t the only one who knew where the Ark was. I took someone with me when I made it.”
“Who?” I ask him.
“Allen Westwood, Angela’s father,” Michael says. “He’s the only other angel who can phase into that particular inner realm.”
“Why him?” I ask, not that I had anything against Allen. He was a little off his rocker, but otherwise a nice guy. Considering his daughter was married to Mason’s son, we ended up spending a lot of holidays and birthdays with him.
“He was in Israel at the time,” Michael tells me. “It was after his fall, and I felt as though he needed a reason to not lose his faith in God. I thought if I shared this secret with him, it would help him find his way back to our father. Perhaps, I thought the same thing in this reality.”
“Let’s keep our fingers crossed that you did,” I say to Michael.
I look at Brand, who is looking at me as if I’ve lost my mind.
“You better get used to us looking like we’re talking to thin air,” I inform him. “All the vessels speak to their Archangels in this way.”
“Oui,” JoJo confirms with a nod of her head, causing her curls to bounce, “we all look a little bit insane.”
“Sorry,” Brand says, suddenly realizing how he was staring at me. “I’ll get used to it.”
“No, you won’t,” Mason says confidently. “I haven’t.”
“Do you have a Watcher here named Allen Westwood?” I ask Brand.
“Please tell me the fate of our world doesn’t depend on him,” Nina practically begs.
“Why?” I ask, confused by her reaction. “Is he dead in this reality?”
“I don’t think so, but I can’t say for sure,” Brand says, hesitantly. “However, if he’s still alive, he might be impossible to find.”
“Why?”
“Allen isn’t all there mentally anymore,” Brand begins.
“In other words,” Nina interjects, “he’s a complete lunatic.”
“After our fall from God’s grace,” Brand continues, ignoring Nina’s interruption, “something inside his mind broke. He took his daughter, and stays as far away from the rest of us as possible.”
“We need to find him,” I say. “If we can get to him before Lucian does, maybe we can get to the Ark first.”
“They don’t know Allen’s connection to the Ark,” Nina points out. “If they don’t know that, it should be safe where it is.”
“We have no way of knowing if Allen mentioned his knowledge of the Ark’s location to another angel,” Michael points out. “It’s too risky to assume that he didn’t, especially if his mental faculties have deteriorated. He could be telling his life story to complete strangers for all we know.”
I tell the others what Michael said.
“All right,” Brand says, “first things first.” He turns to look at Nina, Baruch, and Isaiah. “We need to scout each of these locations and find out what they’re up to at them. Nina, go to the Great Rift Valley. Isaiah, go to Khirbat en-Nahas. And Baruch, you scout out Timna Valley. I’ll go to the Dome of the Rock to see what I can find.”
“How do we find Allen?” I ask.
“Before I go to the Dome, I’ll go see a fellow Watcher who might be able to help search for him. We haven’t heard anyone mention Allen’s name on the Dragon Network. So, if they are searching for him, they’re keeping the information in-house. Let’s just keep our fingers crossed that they don’t know anything about Allen’s connection to the Ark.”
“What do you want us to do?” I ask.
“Get some sleep?” Brand suggests kindly. “We need you all rested. There’s no telling what might be coming next. I need all of you at full capacity. Leah,” Brand says, looking at the youngest member of our party, “there are some empty rooms near the one Jess and Mason stayed in the last time they were here. Could you make sure your friends get settled for me? And your room is still the way you left it. We didn’t change anything.”
“Sure,” Leah says, sounding pleased that she has an actual job to do. “I can do that.”
“Thank you,” Brand says. “Now, please, get some rest, and I’ll see you in the morning. Hopefully, we’ll have some more news to share with you then.”
“Does Josh know where we’ll be, in case he finds Tristan?” I ask.
“I’ll let him know before I go,” Brand assures me. “I’ll see you all in the morning.”
Brand and his group phase to their separate destinations.
Mason and I help Leah get everyone situated in their rooms. When Mason and I finally walk into the room we stayed in during our last visit, I see that nothing has changed. The room is sparse, with one full-size bed covered in white cotton sheets and a thin black wool blanket. A small metal table with a small lamp sits on the right side of the bed. There is a narrow bathroom off to the left, with a metal chair sitting by the entrance.
&n
bsp; “Home sweet home,” I say sarcastically as I walk into the room ahead of Mason.
Mason chuckles and closes the door behind him after entering.
I unbuckle my baldric and toss it, my sword, and messenger bag onto the bed. Mason comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my right shoulder.
“Are you all right?” he asks, unable to hide his worry for me from his voice.
I turn around in his embrace and drape my arms over his shoulders.
“I already miss the kids,” I admit, biting an inside corner of my lower lip to prevent myself from crying. The action proves futile as tears begin to blur my vision.
“Oh, Jess,” Mason says, resting his forehead against mine, “don’t cry. They’ll be fine. The only thing you’ll have to worry about is discovering how spoiled they are when we finally do get back home to them. You know Mama Lynn, George, and Faison are going to give them anything they want while we’re gone.”
“They won’t be spoiled,” I say with a small sniff. “They’re too kind-hearted to let it all go to their heads.”
Mason pulls back to look at me. His arms leave my waist as he raises his hands to wipe away the tears freely streaming down my face now.
“Listen to me,” he says. “We’re doing this just as much for them as we are for the people of this world. When we go back home, they won’t have to hear their mother cry out in the middle of the night anymore. And maybe, just maybe, we’ll be able to give them another little brother or sister when we get back home.”
“What if I’m not meant to have another baby?” I ask, feeling my heart ache at such a thought, and hoping Mason wipes away my worry like he always does.
“Don’t even think that,” he says, as if the surety of a third child is all but guaranteed. “In fact,” he says, grabbing the tab of the zipper on my jacket, “I don’t see any reason for us to wait until we get back home to start trying for baby number three.”
“We’ve been trying for years,” I remind him, unable to stop myself from smiling at my husband.
“True,” Mason says, slipping my jacket off my shoulders and onto the floor. He bends down on one knee in front of me and grabs the front of my pants to unbutton them, “but you’ve also been under a great deal of pressure to find a way to travel back to this reality. Now that we’re here, the pressure should be gone.”
As Mason pulls down the zipper of my pants, I ask, “So you think our problem has been a mental block on my part?”
Mason slides his hands inside my pants until they’re resting against my hips.
“Stress has been known to prevent women from getting pregnant,” Mason says as he pulls my pants down until they reach the tops of my boots.
“Stupid boots,” I complain playfully. “I guess you’ll just have to take them off, too.”
Mason quickly does as suggested. When my pants are off as well, he stands back up. In one deft motion, he has my shirt off, and I find myself standing in only my panties and bra, but those items of clothing don’t stay on for very long either. After I’m completely naked, I arch a delicate eyebrow in my husband’s direction.
“You are extremely overdressed for what I’m hoping happens next,” I tease.
Mason smiles as he lets his hands wander over my skin. He leans in and presses his mouth against mine for a deep kiss that makes my heart beat so fast I fear I might pass out from the rush of blood.
“There’s no reason to hope,” Mason says against my mouth as his lips linger over them. His hands glide down the contours of my back, until he has my bottom firmly in his grasp. “I fully intend to make love to you, Jess. I plan to kiss and tease every lovely inch of your body until you beg me to stop.”
“Why would I ever want you to stop?” I ask, closing my eyes as Mason moves one of his hands to the front of my hips, causing me to gasp in response to his touch.
“Because you would want me here,” Mason says, demonstrating the exact position with one of his fingers.
“I say we do the foreplay later,” I tell him breathlessly, “because I want you there now.”
I’ve always loved one thing in particular about my husband. He’s always done exactly what I needed him to, no questions asked.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Afterwards, Mason treats me to the much-anticipated shower. He keeps true to his earlier promise, and makes sure that I am thoroughly clean from head to toe and everywhere in between. When we lay in bed together afterwards, my mind and body completely shut down from exhaustion, enveloping me in a blissfully dreamless sleep.
I’m not sure how much time passes, but we’re woken up by a loud pounding on the door of our room. Mason phases over and opens it to see who is so desperate to get our attention.
“I’m sorry for waking you,” Sophia says, briefly looking into the room as I sit up in bed. I can clearly see she’s distressed about something. “We’ve found Tristan and your friend Jered.”
“Where are they?” I ask. “Are they in danger?”
“Yes, they’re in a great deal of danger,” Sophia answers, not trying to hide her worry. “Our Jered has them both at his home. From what Josh and I heard on the Dragon Network, Tristan found where they are holding your Jered and tried to rescue him. We need to get them out of there as soon as possible.”
The desperation on Sophia’s face tells me that there’s no time to lose.
“We’ll get dressed and meet you in Brand’s room,” Mason tells her, and then closes the door.
Neither Mason nor I waste any time putting our clothes and weapons back on. When we reach Brand’s room, we find him, Nina, Sophia, and Malcolm already there.
“From Sophia’s reaction to where Jered and Tristan are being held,” I say as we come to stand next to the others, “I assume your Jered works for Lucian.”
“Yes,” Brand says as he straps on a black leather belt with a sword. “And he’s very skillful in the art of torture. The sooner we get your friends away from him, the better.”
“But he can’t physically touch Jered, right?” I ask. “I mean, not directly. Otherwise, he might go poof.”
“You don’t necessarily have to lay a hand on someone to cause them pain,” Malcolm reminds me, absently rubbing his leg with the hellhound bite.
“Our Jered has a penchant for unique instruments of torture,” Nina informs me, openly disgusted by the fact. “He has enough devices in his collection to cause most anyone excruciating pain, angel or human.”
“What’s the plan then?” I ask, now understanding the urgency of the situation.
“We’re storming in and grabbing your friends,” Brand tells me, making it sound as simple as going to the grocery store and picking up a few items. “After the attack at Robert’s estate, they’ll be expecting an organized raid. Maybe we can catch them off- guard with a swift and aggressive attack.”
“Jered has an apartment in lower Manhattan,” Nina informs us. “I know the layout and where he takes his victims so he can play with them. Just stay behind Brand and me when we get there. We’ll probably have to fight our way to the room and out of it afterwards.”
“If you know where the room is,” I say, “why aren’t we just phasing directly inside it?”
“As I said,” Brand says, “Jered enjoys torturing people. If he’s torturing an angel, he doesn’t exactly want them to just phase away. He has a room in his home that’s impossible to phase in or out of.”
“So it’s basically an angel prison?” I ask.
“Yes. That’s exactly what those rooms are used for,” Nina says. From the haunted look in her eyes, I can only assume Nina has spent time in such a room before.
“Do you happen to have one of those here?” I ask out of curiosity.
Brand cocks his head as he looks at me. “Yes. Why do you ask?”
“If I can find my Lucifer, it might be a good place to hold him for safekeeping until we’re ready to go home.”
“Not that I’m complaining,” Brand says,
“but why do you seem so concerned about taking him back to your reality?”
“It’s where he belongs,” I say simply, “and I don’t think God intended for this to be a one-way trip for him. He wanted Lucifer to learn something from spending time here. What that something is, I have no way of knowing. All I can do is trust that God knows what He’s doing.”
“Then use the cell as you see fit,” Brand tells me.
Josh rushes into the room, carrying a black leather case about the size of a shoebox. He quickly walks up to Brand and holds the box out for him to take.
“We have just enough for all of you,” Josh tells Brand, slightly out of breath from running.
“Good. Thanks, Josh. Keep listening to the network and let us know if our mission draws any unwanted attention that might cut into our time there. We’ll try to be out fast but a head’s-up to more trouble coming our way wouldn’t hurt.”
“I’m on it,” Josh says, quickly leaving the room to return to his computer station.
Brand sets the box Josh just gave him on the table and flips the lid open. Neatly lined up inside it are six black bracelets, but they are all split in half, sitting across from each other.
“Let me see one of your wrists,” Brand says to me.
I hold out my right wrist because my left one already has the bracelet JoJo and Chandler made for me around it. Brand takes out a matching bracelet pair. He lifts the two halves up to my wrist and then brings them slightly closer together to encircle it. There’s no need for him to clasp the pieces together because they seem to have a strong magnetic attraction for one another. They practically jump out of Brand’s hands and join together, forming a perfect circle. Oddly, the bracelet never touches my skin. It just seems to float in a circle around my wrist.
“This will provide you with an artificial field of gravity when we enter the room. Otherwise, you would just float in the air like a balloon,” Brand explains.
“Thanks,” I say as he moves on to put a bracelet on everyone else’s wrists.
After we all have a bracelet on, we join hands.
