by L. J. Amodeo
Michael knelt before me, holding my hands between his. “Never,” he replied, sealing his promise with a kiss. We sat embraced for a while. I missed his touch, his scent and gentle caresses. The pain in my head finally ebbed, as we spoke briefly about my stay at Eden, when Michael asked about Freddie.
“Elizabeth, I must speak with Freddie. Where is he?” he asked.
I lifted my head off his shoulders to look at him. “He left.”
“What do you mean, ‘left?’ Where did he go?”
“I’m not sure, he went out last night and I haven’t seen him since,” I replied with an irritated edge in my voice.
“He’s been gone since last night?” His voice grew louder.
“Yes. He’s left me alone before, why? What’s the big deal?” I gave him a questioning glance.
“He was told never to leave under any circumstances, especially now that the Watchers have been summoned to find you!” his anger erupted. “Where did he go?” he growled, lifting himself off the ground and panting angrily.
“I . . . I don't know. He was upset with me and they left in his car. They haven't been back since.”
“They?” He turned his narrowed eyes at me. His stare became hard and tense as his jaw flexed repeatedly.
“Yes. He and Kali.”
“Come again? Did you say Kali?” Again he gave me a chilling stare. His eyes grew wider and skin paled in comparison to seconds earlier.
“My stepsister. Don’t you know? She came here with Freddie,” I mentioned innocently.
Michael quickly lifted me off the ground and ran through the woods, carrying me effortlessly toward the estate. I felt my stomach knot watching his face cinch with venom as he darted past the towering trees. I held onto him, squeezing my eyes shut in fear of colliding with the trunk of an ancient cedar.
“Michael, what’s gotten into you? What are we running for?” I yelled in fear, as my body jerked fiercely in his grip.
He didn’t respond, he only continued sprinting through and around the massive trees. Finally, as we neared the mansion he slowed his pace, yet continued to stare ahead wide eyed and irate.
“Stop! Stop! Put me down!” I shouted out of breath. “What is wrong with you?” I panted breathlessly.
Before I could utter another word, Michael barked through clenched teeth, “Kali was murdered—with her mother!”
If life becomes too much to bear remember your angel is always there.
~ Unknown
Michael darted past the maidservants and into the house leaving me outside the estate, numb and by myself. Freddie’s face flickered before my eyes. The ground suddenly swayed beneath my feet. I felt faint. Faith was the first to rush over to me, holding me upright and steady before I went down. My legs became weak and my knees continued to buckle. Before long, the three women had settled me in the great room, where the temperature was the coolest.
“Come, sit down before you hurt yourself,” Deborah kindly whispered.
I obliged, and sat on the piano bench. Michael had disappeared somewhere inside the mansion. Only the faint growls of his angry voice echoed from time to time through the marble halls. My head felt woozy and heavy, and all I could do to hold it up was place it between my palms. I rested my elbows on the baby grand until Faith returned with a concoction of ice cold sugared-water.
“Here you go, drink this. It was my grandmother’s cure for fainting spells. It’ll help with the dizziness too,” she said, placing the glass between my trembling hands.
“Thanks.” I smiled weakly. She nodded and walked out of the room.
I sat immobile at the piano for a while, anticipating Michael’s return and wondering where Freddie was. The thought of Kali, the real Kali, being dead sprung goose bumps across my skin. Who is she and what does she have to do with me? I thought about the girl with Freddie as a new wave of terror rose in my throat. I feared Freddie was in trouble, yet, there was nothing I could do or say to make any of this go away.
As I waited for news of my only friend, I sat pensively at the piano, too weak to stand or go looking for Michael. Instead, I pressed down on the polished eighteenth-century keys. It echoed melodically against the velvet-covered walls. It had been a while since I last played the piano. Several weeks ago, I played for Freddie. He loved watching me play. He became my biggest fan. Yet, everything had changed between us, and the loss I felt burned deep in my heart.
Again, I pressed the chords, playing a portion of Mozart’s Concerto 23. Before long, the soft music poured from my fingers, taking me far away to a time in my childhood when my father played beside me. He’d call me his little prodigal pianist. His memory comforted me, the same way I had always found comfort in Freddie.
As I continued playing in honor of my father’s memory, I hadn’t noticed Michael watching as I strummed the keys of the magnificent instrument. His presence caught me by surprise, and I stopped playing.
“Don’t stop. I’m glad to see you’re feeling better and still playing beautifully. Faith told me you felt faint,” Michael said making his way toward me.
I swung my legs around on the piano bench to face him. I rose and took several unsteadying steps toward him.
“Have you found Freddie?” I asked twisting strands of my hair.
“We haven’t located him yet,” Michael answered curtly.
“Do you think he’s in danger? Do you think she’d hurt him?” I fretted, biting down on my lower lip while my knees trembled slightly.
“Beth, has Freddie ever left you alone with that girl?” Michael asked, inconspicuously holding my arm to keep a steady hand on me.
“Yes, several times,” I said, trying to concentrate.
“Damn fool! You have no idea the danger he put you in and how irresponsible it was on his part!” Michael grimaced, letting out a deep breath.
“Michael?” I stepped forward, wanting to hold him for support, but hesitated.
“If Kali was killed, then who is the girl—with Freddie?”
“I wish I knew. She may be a Tracker,” he briefly commented, consumed by noticeable anger and rage. “Freddie spoke to me about Trackers!” My tone alerted him.
Michael continued, “They come in many forms, especially as temptresses. These women are missionaries for the Watchers with a duty to track whomever they are looking for, and if it means seducing as a distraction, then they will. They will go to all measures stopping at nothing. And, the idiot fell for it! Knowing he led her here and left her with you only means that the others know your location by now.” He balled his fists in anger. I balanced my body against an antique parlor table beside the window, still in disbelief.
“Michael, how could he have not known she was a fraud? Freddie’s an angel. Shouldn’t he have some special ability to sense these things?” I bellowed, combing my fingers restlessly through my hair. It wasn’t like Freddie—he was a great judge of character. I may not have realized it then, but now I knew how much he disliked Sam and rightfully so. So how could he have let this girl slip through like this? Was she truly that good at tempting him? I paced anxiously before turning to Michael. “How could this be? How did he not know!” I was furious while Michael seemed transfixed on the scenery outside the window. I finally sat down in the velvet chair next to the lamp table.
“He can only pick up their scent if they’re immortal, and clearly she isn’t,” he informed me, pushing aside the silk window treatment.
“Scent?”
“Yes, just like each angel has a unique scent, like flowers have, Trackers have their own as well,” he cinched his lip in a tiny smile.
“Angels . . . like gardenias,” I whispered, looking at him through my lashes.
“Yes, like gardenias, only Freddie has his own scent—as do the others. This is how we keep track of one another in crossing. When a scent is foul or earthy . . . like mud, soil or dirt, we know we have crossed paths with the servants of the dark realm.”
“Sam’s scent reminded me of earth—wet earth,” I m
urmured to myself. Michael stared at me; a small grin marked his beautiful lips.
“And Freddie?” he asked proudly, as if something astounding just occurred.
“Jasmine, I think.” I replied, lost in his stare. He smiled that heartbreaking smile when his voice broke my concentration.
“You’re finally starting to get us, Elizabeth.” he winked, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear.
“Freddie’s scent helped with your depression when your father left. Did you know that?” he asked kindly.
I nodded my head, “I never noticed his scent until recently,” I admitted.
“You’re opening your eyes, your mind, and your senses.” He touched my cheek, leaving a tingle in its wake.
“Kali, or whoever she may be—is not immortal, so obviously, she didn’t have any scent, right?” I asked chagrined.
“Obviously, but she did a heck of a job fooling him,” he said, taking a deep breath.
“Oh, Freddie! Why couldn’t you see that she was no good?” I griped to no one in particular, but trying to understand myself what had happened. Like me, Freddie was fooled by the magnitude of the girl’s beauty. I felt foolish that I had allowed Sam to deceive me the way she had, and now Freddie had fallen victim, too.
“Freddie’s abilities haven’t yet developed. It takes time in our realm. When he died, his soul was spared and preserved in the likeness of his boyish innocence,” he remarked, burrowing his eyebrows, hoping that I understood the logic in his world. I did.
“Ah! That explains Freddie then,” I smiled, knowingly.
“As I mentioned, Freddie can track evil, but not of the human kind. He does not have those divine capabilities to see through people’s pretenses like I can. Not yet, anyway. As far as this girl, I don’t know who she is or what her business was here. I’m assuming she is a missionary for Mastema helping them track you. That’s why I need to find her and fast! I fear for Freddie’s safety.”
“Do you think she may have hurt him already?”
“Let's hope not. If we don’t find him soon, I fear the worst. The others are already on their way. They’ll be here soon and then we will go out in search for Freddie and this impostor,” he stated with anticipation.
“Who’s coming? What others?” My eyes flickered with anticipation.
“The Blue Legion—the intermediaries,” he replied.
“And, they are—?” I gave him a puzzled look.
“They are the angels closest to God and my personal army,” he spoke sincerely.
“Then who are the White Knights? Are they different from the Legion?”
“Yes, the Knights are granted passage to roam the earth at freewill, while The Blue Legion must be summoned. The Knights can use the portals as they wish like the Guardians. Then there are the Hellions.”
“Did you just say Hellions?” I swallowed a lump of fear.
“Why do you ask?”
“I believe it was them—in one of my visions. I heard their screeching wails. It made my ears bleed, but in a blink of an eye, they disintegrated. Vanished.”
“The Hellions are vicious unsightly beasts, known for barbaric annihilations. The Guardians have battled them for a millennia. Does this make any sense to you?” Michael asked sympathetically.
“Strangely so, it does. Why call in the Blue Legion then?”
“Although, the Knights are a strong army as are the Guardians, the Legion consists of the Universe’s most superior warriors and giants.”
“Giants? Like in Jack and the Beanstalk’s giant?” I became stupefied. Michael laughed.
“Not as big. The Legion Giants are seven powerful angels that stand ten feet tall and are surrounded by a great mist. They are the Nephilim, a choir of angels, who easily move in and out with the earth’s elements. They are undefeated, and are summoned by the Blue Legion as the absolute last resort. So, giants yes, bean stalk, no. Does that answer your question?” He winked flashing his Presley-like smile, immediately melting my heart.
I didn’t realize how much I’d missed him until now. He had such a powerful effect on me. The same effect like the first day I’d laid eyes on him at the library in Angelica. His love filled every inch of my body with an intensity that burned through me and made it hard to breathe. Really hard to breathe. My chest ached as an enormous weight seemed to pound on it. I gasped, reaching for Michael’s arm as a pillar of support before feeling my legs give out beneath me.
“Faith, Deborah, Victoria!” Michael’s urgent shouts called to them as he lifted me and carried me up the stairs, laying me across the bed.
The women immediately came running into the room, prepared with tepid water and the same syringe that was injected into my thigh upon my arrival at Eden. Deborah pierced my leg, slowly pushing the liquid painkiller beneath the skin of my thigh while Faith dabbed my burning skin.
“Her body is weakening, Michael. This has happened several times already, and she’s having nightmares again.” Faith spoke quietly to the archangel.
“I know. Thank you for your help.” Michael sighed to the women when they were done as they swiftly exited the room.
Again, my lids fell heavy and I wished to sleep. Yet, I fought the desire to sleep, continually forcing my eyes open. I wanted to hold on to this moment with Michael, with a persistent phobia that he may leave again. I reached out to him.
“Don’t leave me,” I whispered breathlessly.
“I’m not going anywhere. Just sleep,” he whispered, holding me in his arms, wrapping my body in his glorious warmth.
I rested my head onto his chest and drifted off into sleep.
The white pampas-grass-tufted plumes swayed gently in the summer breeze. Slowly, my body floated through the field, as my body levitated toward the red barn outlined in the backdrop of the prairie. The wooden fore-bay that once sheltered livestock was slightly opened. I carefully approached the stable doors, listening for any signs of life. I stepped inside. Granary, hay and farming equipment had been neatly banked by the rear double doors of the structure. The whispers of the breeze against the tall grasses outside was the only sound I heard. I searched the interior of the barn and looked up to the second level that was divided into three bays.
“Freddie?” My voice echoed his name. “Are you here?”
Above me, a slight movement ruffled in the hayloft—like a small bird, fluttering its wings. I walked toward the ladder that rested against the old timber beams—climbing barefoot, one step at a time. I reached the barn’s loft, and looked around at first. The first bay was empty except for several stacks of hay. Again, something moved, this time accompanied by a groan. I walked to the next stall. “Freddie, is that you?” I muttered nervously.
Below, I sensed swift movements, causing me to freeze, terrified of who might be lurking.
“Who's there? Kali, if it’s you . . .” I stammered looking down as another shadow moved quickly below.
I rushed to the last bay horrified to see my best friend pinned against a makeshift stake, bloody beyond recognition.
“Oh my God, Freddie!” I screamed, trying desperately to untie him and get him down.
As I pulled the last cord, he fell to the hay-covered floor. I held his bloodied body on my lap.
“Please Freddie, wake up! You can’t die on me. Not again! Please, someone help us!” I swallowed back tears of fear. Fear of losing him.
“Please spare him! Give him another chance!” I cried, when a guttural voice laughed from somewhere in the barn. I remained frozen, too frightened to move or turn around.
“Begging won't help you now—you no-good harlot! Here I was this entire time, believing that you were dead!” the gruesome voice spat from behind me. My breathing grew deeper as I stared at Freddie’s bruised face. My tears fell onto his cheek as I held him tighter.
“We are willing to make a negotiation with Michael, if he thinks you are worth negotiating for,” he hissed.
Abruptly, the disturbing voice hovered directly above my slumped shoulder
s as I protected Freddie from any further harm. I dared not look at his face, forcing my mind to control my fear and trembling body, forcing me to tighten my grip around Freddie.
“What do you want from us?” I asked feeling the panic rise in my chest.
His familiar laughter vibrated throughout the abandoned stable.
“Oh, you know what we want and we’ll get it, even if it means cutting it out of you, alive!” he scowled.
Within seconds, his face was only inches away from mine, breathing his liquor tainted breath into my nostrils. His lips quivered, salivating at their sides, as he sneered at me. I blinked, appalled and outraged at the sight of him.
“Seth!” I scoffed.
“Seth! It’s Seth!” I screamed in horror when I frantically came to.
“Elizabeth—” Michael sat up in a chair near the bed. He held me tightly in his arms. “What is it? Tell me, what did you see?” Michael asked as he tried to calm my hysteria.
“It’s Seth. He has Freddie in a barn—a red barn, somewhere. I don't know where. There’s grass, tall grass with white fuzzy . . . I don't know what they are called, but there's an old abandoned barn there! You have to go to him, Michael, he’s in grave danger! He’s badly hurt!” I cried out gripping his forearms to get him to understand.
“I will, I will. Sssshhh, just calm down—relax,” he said continuing to sooth me.
I buried my face in his chest and wept. “I’m sorry, I am so sorry for all this. Everything is my fault. I never meant for any of it to happen, especially to Freddie!”
“None of this is your fault. Don’t beat yourself up about this. Freddie should’ve known better.” He kissed my head.
“You have to help him, Michael. I don’t know what I’d do without him!” I felt Michael’s body tensed under my own momentarily at my words.
“We will. We’ll find him,” he promised me. “Come, let’s get you some fresh air. No more crying,” Michael said, kissing away my tears. He slowly lifted my face to look at his. His kind smile always seemed to quell my fears and illuminated my heart.
