I was worried, too. So far, Cleo and I hadn’t gotten anything useful out of this flirty pair. I’d ransacked Sibyl’s memories for contacts with other demons, but she and her sister stayed away from most other immortals. The blondes’ fighting skills were pitiful, and they worried about being enslaved by more powerful demons.
I didn’t want to face another tongue lashing from Milton, so I dug deeper. That’s when I found a useful memory hidden deep in her mind. A powerful redheaded fury named Antares had forced the twins to attend a party last August 24th. Antares became a fury on that date during the sack of Rome in 410 A.D.
Lusty Antares had promised to leave Sibyl and her sister alone for a year if they’d provide the entertainment for the party, and the twins had agreed.
Sibyl had hidden the memory because it was so painful. At the end of an orgy, Antares had used a meat cleaver to chop off the harpies’ hands and feet. The blondes had barely survived the night, and wouldn’t have if they’d been mortal.
Although the memory was plenty bloody, I suppressed a thrill of excitement. The party had taken place at a private demon’s club named Evangelist.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t see where the club was located. The twins had been driven there and back, so Sibyl had little idea where they’d been taken, except that she’d seen a large mall along the way down in Denver’s southeastern suburbs. I recognized the mall, but that was it.
I was still searching Sibyl’s mind for details when a thin, white-haired man held out a fan of Benjamins, at least seven hundred bucks. Sibyl sighed inwardly and plopped onto his lap.
That was my cue to abandon ship. I wasn’t going to share this creepy hookup, either at their table or later. Instead, I switched into a pure spirit and used a thought to tell Cleo what I’d learned about Antares and Evangelist.
She replied, It isn’t much given all the time we’ve worked tonight, but one thing you discovered particularly interests me. Evangelist is an anagram for Evil’s Agent.
At least we’d made a little progress. I’d already figured out that my arson investigation would take weeks or months to pay off. We, and our bosses, need to be patient. It might be a long time before we find Antares or that club.
Her response was immediate. I’m sure it’s worth looking for both.
Cleo must’ve reported back to Milton because he never asked me for a progress report. Instead, a few minutes later, reality vanished, and I found myself alone in my bedroom back at the ranch. For the first time, I had the feeling that I was making progress in finding the monster who’d killed me and so many others.
-o-o-o-
SHORTLY AFTER DAWN, I met Ellen in the kitchen to share making breakfast. First, she checked her answering machine. “Two more calls from the governor’s office came in yesterday.”
I listened to them. The last was from Pierce’s chief of staff. The same old pitch. The governor would love to congratulate me on my narrow escape from the fire. He’d already had the pleasure of meeting Kevin and seeing what was left of his Jeep.
The thing was, the governor had to be as busy as hell. I couldn’t understand why he kept bugging me. I hadn’t done anything heroic, but he couldn’t seem to pass up the chance for another photo-op. I erased the message.
Then, too late, I realized that I’d punched delete too quickly. Pierce was too powerful for Cleo or me to take on, but he had probably hired weaker demons for his staff. Those we could spy upon. I tried to mentally communicate that idea to Cleo, but got no response, probably because lower level angels couldn’t share thoughts over long distances.
I passed on the idea to Milton, who I knew I could reach. He didn’t give me a response either, but he was no doubt busy trying to keep the world from going up in flames.
-o-o-o-
WHILE I WAITED to hear from our great leader, I received a call from a woman named Harriet Nigel, the regional head of the Red Cross. After introducing herself, she said, “Milton mentioned your apprenticeship. Healing the afflicted is wonderful work, and he thinks you could help me during the next disaster.”
She didn’t mention my investigation. Milton might’ve kept that project to himself as a way of protecting me and Cleo. I asked, “How do you know him?”
All she would say was, “Not over the phone. I have a few ideas for how you could help the Red Cross?”
Another lesson learned—don’t talk about angels over the phone.
Instead, she explained how I could set up a medical relief tent to help animals during the next disaster. They couldn’t tell anyone what kind of healer I was, unlike human patients.
And this work would give me a reason to stay close to the next fire. “Happy to help, but I can’t afford many vet supplies.”
“I can provide all the funds you need,” Harriet said.
It sounded like a great idea. “The payoff for Colorado’s wildlife will be fantastic.”
-o-o-o-
I SPENT THE rest of the morning helping Ellen dose sheep to prevent various diseases. In the afternoon, I collected supplies for the relief program. Sure enough, my bank account suddenly contained a lot more money than it had before, so I wrote checks to various pet supply outlets.
And Harriet found me a couple of helpers. Ellen would’ve worked with me, too, but I was worried about the effect smoky fires might have on her baby.
Late in the afternoon, Ellen left to visit a friend in Glenwood Springs. That town was hours away, so she planned to stay the night.
I sat on the tattered sofa in the living room and let Milton know I was available.
He didn’t respond for over an hour. Then he told me in his distinctive voice, I regret not being able to work with you this evening. Unfortunately, a crisis in Calcutta demands my immediate attention. In my place, I shall send Honah Running Bear, who will be your direct supervisor. Of course, I should have introduced you to him several days ago, but his schedule is equally full. Our legion has been beset by many opponents lately, and I fear matters will get much worse soon. Nevertheless, you could not be in better hands than Honah’s.
Moments later, someone began to materialize in front of Ellen’s oak coffee table. This angel was short and stocky. His skin was bronzed and his face weather-beaten. I couldn’t help but imagine he’d just ridden in from Monument Valley on the back of a painted war pony.
His long coal-black hair was carefully braided into two strands that hung down to his waist. He wore buckskins lightly decorated with a few beads here and there. I would’ve pegged him as a simple rancher or a farmer, not one of the most powerful beings on Earth.
Then it occurred to me. Honah bore a striking similarity to photographs I’d seen of Geronimo. That Apache warrior had been legendary for his fierceness and intelligence in battle. Maybe Honah had been that famous warrior for a time.
The old chief’s face was sober and calm. He extended one hand with his fingers pointing upward, like Griffin had done on the mall. I stood and stepped around the coffee table so I could place my fingertips against his.
Immediately, my mind was overwhelmed by a torrent of images, feelings, and words jumbled together. It felt like I was standing next to a raging waterfall of information.
“Jesus,” I called out in response.
He quickly pulled his hand back, and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly. “I still forget from time to time how the flow affects others. Welcome to my tribe, Gabriel Townsend.”
I nodded to acknowledge the greeting and tried to calm my jangled nerves. Then I pointed at a comfortable chair near us. “Please, have a seat, sir.”
He shook his head. “We have far to go, and no need for formality. We will soon become closer than father and son. You may call me Honah or Chief.”
The ranch house dissolved into darkness, then we were standing on a large patio paved with flat stones. In front of us, a meadow full of tall wildflowers extended for a hundred yards to the bank of a massive river. Just upstream, two large waterways came together. The combined flow reache
d at least a half-mile to the opposite bank.
On every other side of us, the meadow was surrounded by tall leafy trees. I spun in a half circle. There, a one-story, sun-bleached log cabin stood about fifty feet long and half as wide. The roof was covered with roughhewn shingles, and the wall facing us contained two small windows. It could easily have been an old hunting or fishing lodge.
“Until the American Civil War, this was the Angelic Legion’s North American headquarters. When I first visited the confluence of the Missouri and Mississippi rivers, over eleven thousand years ago, I built a small cabin with Stone Age tools. For thousands of years afterward, I was the only angel present on this continent. I had no need for help until Columbus crossed the Atlantic.”
He let out a deep sigh that told me he was nostalgic for the good ol’ days. “What about the Vikings? Weren’t they the first Europeans here?”
“Their settlements didn’t last long, unlike after Columbus. But the past can’t be changed. Now, I supervise 736 immortals, including you. We collectively encourage five hundred million humans and innumerable other sentient beings to move toward the light.”
I tried to make sense of what I’d heard. Honah had a quiet way of saying a lot quickly. I would need to think about this much more, but for starters, I pulled out my phone and did a quick calculation. “So, there’s one angel for every seven-hundred-thousand people, or so?”
“Approximately, but your workload will actually be much heavier. Most of my staff are fighters, like Griffin. Their primary responsibilities are to destroy demons and protect other angels, like you. The rest of my immortal tribe are healers or peacemakers, like Cleopatra. They interact with sentient beings, particularly humans, to encourage cooperation and the nonviolent resolution of conflicts. You are, for the time being, our only angelic detective. The sooner you find the demonic arsonist who killed you, the sooner you will be able to move on to other mysteries.”
The guy had unrealistic expectations for me, but I kept that thought as much to myself as much as I could around an angel. They seemed to read my mind with ease. “You’re really eleven thousand years old?”
Honah snickered and stood more erect. “I have aged gracefully, wouldn’t you say?”
This was too good an opportunity for information to pass up. He seemed happy to explain the immortal world. “How many angels are here now?”
“At this building? A small group oversees the Great Plains. Most of my staff are located in the continent’s large cities because that is where demons tend to congregate. Let’s advance to the current North American Headquarters so you can see for yourself. It’s in Denver.”
Before we left, I asked, “Why is this building so visible? Can’t every boat on the river see us? I thought angels stayed hidden.”
Honah smiled. “We are occupying an alternative dimension. Only immortals can see or access this facility, and we keep the demons away with a powerful shield. If you look upward,” he pointed into the sky over the river, “you can see a flock of ravens circling. They are actually satanic immortals. They used to leave us alone, but beginning about four months ago, they began keeping all of our facilities under constant surveillance. Satan’s forces are planning something foul, but we haven’t yet discovered what. I expect you to help provide the answers we are seeking.”
The idea of me somehow saving them caused my pulse to race. I was only one guy, but I’d do my best. “What do the people on boats see when they look this way?”
“Only a dense forest. Even if they were to trespass into our compound, they wouldn’t realize they were in this meadow. From time to time, we see someone inside this building. They don’t see anything but trees.”
It was simply too confusing.
-o-o-o-
DARKNESS OVERCAME ME, and I realized Honah was transporting us somewhere else. When my vision cleared, we stood in a rooftop garden on a high-rise building in a large city. A tall metal fence covered with dark mesh surrounded us. I could see through the screening, and all of the surrounding buildings were lower. The sun began to dip behind a long range of mountains to the west.
Honah said, “We are high above Seventeenth Street in downtown Denver.”
This building’s roof extended a hundred feet or more in every direction, and it consisted mostly of a lush garden. The paths were laid out in spokes radiating from a large marble fountain in the center filled with statues of water birds. The garden contained a mixture of flowering shrubs, ornamentals, and small trees. A climbing rose covered a trellis next to me, and I smelled its classic white flowers with single petals. It smelled like one my mother had grown in her garden.
Honah stood silent next to me and let me take in the dazzling display. “You own this whole building?”
Honah nodded. “So we can control it, but our fifty angels here only occupy the penthouse.”
He pointed at a single-level structure that covered a quarter of the roof. It contained a wall of windows facing us, so those inside could enjoy a view of the garden.
“Angels in their bird form can land on the roof to avoid human scrutiny as they come and go,” Honah said. “This structure is protected by a magical shield to keep out the dark spirits and hide us from mortal eyes.”
I looked for a flock of ravens and noticed several roosting on a neighboring building. Spies. That’s creepy. Now I have to be constantly on the lookout for demons masked as ravens.
“Yes, but that is as close as they can come to here, so this place is always available to you as a refuge.”
“Assuming I can get here,” I replied. “It’ll be easier once I have wings, too.”
“Of course. Let’s go inside.”
We entered though a sliding door into a large open room. There were no desks or phones. Instead it looked more like the lobby of a fancy hotel, with several conversation areas and comfortable chairs.
“At any one time,” Honah said, “most of us are away. We have enough room here for our occasional meetings, but otherwise, this is a quiet zone in a world gone insane.”
I looked out a window on the opposite side of the room from the garden. The city stretched out below us across to the Eastern Plains. Dark clouds gathered on the distant horizon.
“Unfortunately,” Honah said, “our chief healer here was called away a short time ago. I will introduce you to her at the earliest opportunity. It seems we are too busy now, with everyone hurrying from one crisis to the next. That’s very unusual, and I must confess we are puzzled about what the dark forces are planning.”
“With any luck,” I said, “I can maybe find out what’s going on. Most detectives would give up their first-born for the power to get into people’s minds.” Which reminded me about my own crazy day. “You won’t believe what happened to me—”
The old angel held up his hand to stop me. “Whenever we meet, I receive a full imprint of your thoughts and memories. No need to tell me anything. Your life has become part of that torrent of information you noticed when our hands first touched.”
“So, the Internet existed before computers?”
Honah chuckled. “You could say—” He paused. “Oh, I wish we could talk longer about that, but we have an urgent matter to handle.”
This angel business was turning out to be a heckuva lot more nerve-wracking than I’d expected. “What’s the crisis?”
In an instant, Honah transported the two of us to a dark field lit only by a half moon. The ground was bone-dry, and what little vegetation existed was dead. The sky was fully dark, so we had to have moved eastward.
“We stand in central Kansas,” Honah said. “The owner of this ranch, a troll who ran a slave labor camp for farm workers, died moments ago. Cleopatra is dealing with his human victims. You must save his animals. His well dried up, so he left his cattle to survive as best they could in these parched pastures. Those still alive are close to death.”
“It sounds like Kansas suffers from the same drought as Colorado.”
The angel nodded. �
��The stock ponds here have turned to mudflats. These animals will not survive the night without healing.”
Honah pointed to the ranch home. “Cleopatra will arrange for a delivery of water in the morning.” He paused as though wondering if he’d told me all he needed to. “I regret that I cannot linger. There is much you will have to learn on your own.”
The angel vanished, and a few seconds later, Griffin appeared in bird form. I tried to talk to him, but as usual, he kept his distance. Maybe there were castes of angels, and I was too lowly to mingle with the fighters.
My eyes had adjusted to the dim moonlight, and I could make out a number of lumps on the horizon. The large dark shapes ahead seemed to be cows milling together.
I walked into the field they were in. It looked to be about a quarter-section in size, so about a hundred and sixty acres. I began crossing it, back and forth, trying to find every animal still alive.
I had to hurry to save as many as possible from dying from dehydration or starvation. When I came across the first heifer lying on the ground, I knelt beside her. Cows or people, they were all God’s children.
She had large, expressive eyes that first showed fear then calmed as I stroked her neck and comforted her. The beast’s tough hide softened under my hands, and her muscles grew back to cover her protruding bones. After a moment, she rose to her feet.
I moved to my next patient, and the heifer I’d just healed followed me and nuzzled me. I had no idea what that meant, but maybe it was the only way she could show appreciation. I spoke softly to each animal as I treated them, then I ignored them, hurrying from one cow to the next. Hopefully, I’d come quickly enough to save most of them.
Chapter 9
Friday, June 16th
WHEN DAWN ARRIVED, I had helped over two hundred head of cattle. Toward the end, they crowded around me so tightly I was worried that their calves would be trampled, but that didn’t happen. At least the animals appreciated my work. It wasn’t as interesting as chasing demons, but for these critters, I’d given them a new lease on life.
Forged by Fire (Angels at the Edge Book 1) Page 8
