Spirit Fighter (Son of Angels, Jonah Stone)

by Jerel Law

  Jonah struggled to collect his thoughts.

  “Letting people—you know, regular humans—see you . . . this is something you can do?”

  “Of course,” Henry said. “But we can do a pretty good job of masking our wings and looking like real humans if we want to. Watch this.”

  He closed his eyes and moved his arms away from his body for a moment, and suddenly his wings became transparent.

  “Cool,” Jonah said, in awe. If he looked really hard, he could see the outline of Henry’s wings, but he could see right through them. If he were standing farther away, or if he were not focusing on looking for them, he would have no idea they were there.

  “So, yes, we can let people see us. Sometimes Elohim has an assignment for one of us that requires face-to-face interaction with a human.”

  “Have you ever been caught?” asked Jonah. “You know, by a human, when you were pretending to be one of us?”

  “I’ve never been given that kind of assignment, Jonah.” Henry laughed. “That’s for angels much higher up in the ranks than I am. There are those who have been highly trained in such matters.” He sighed, then smiled again. “But not me. I am content to be invisible, by your family’s side. But to your question, there are believers who have a deep connection with Elohim, some who have a knack for spotting us.”

  Jonah had heard people in church occasionally talk about feeling the presence of God strongly in certain situations. The Dominguez family swore that they had been helped by an angel when their car flipped upside down last summer.

  “How old are you?” Jonah asked. “I mean, you look like you’re a teenager . . . except for the wings, of course.”

  Henry grabbed a handful of dirt in his hands and held it up. “Let’s put it this way, Jonah. I was around long before this was.” He let the pile of dirt sift through his slender fingers to the ground.

  “You mean you’re older than the planet? But you look like you’re not even old enough to drive,” said Jonah.

  “Elohim created us,” Henry said, “just as He creates all living things. Like He created you. The difference is that we don’t die, so our appearance doesn’t age.”

  “So do all of you look like teenagers?”

  “Elohim is quite creative, Jonah. Just like you humans, there are no two of us who are alike.”

  “So,” Jonah said slowly, “you’ve been with me . . . like, with me, my whole life? You’ve seen everything?” He gulped as he said this. There were some things in his life that he hoped no one would ever see. The thought that an angel had been invisibly following him around was unsettling.

  “I’m not always right beside you, if that’s what you mean,” Henry said. “You get the same level of privacy from me that you would get from, say, your mom and dad. Speaking of which, I do have the rest of your family to watch over too. But let’s just say that I’m close by in case you need me. I hang around.”

  That relieved Jonah a little. “So you were there for, say, my fifth birthday party?”

  Henry grinned. “When you went to Chuck E. Cheese’s and were afraid of the giant mouse? Yep, I was there.” Jonah turned red, instantly wishing he hadn’t brought that up. “And all of your rec league basketball games, days at school, playing video games, going on vacations. I’ve been right there.”

  That is so weird, Jonah thought. “Are there others here, then? Other angels I just can’t see right now?”

  Henry shrugged. “There are others around your neighborhood, your school, everywhere. Eventually you may be able to see them too. Look, Jonah, I am sure it’s uncomfortable to think about invisible angels involved in your day-to-day life.”

  “That’s the understatement of the year,” Jonah mumbled.

  “Just think of it like Elohim’s hand working in your life,” countered Henry. “It should make you feel good knowing that He cares about you so much that He sent His messengers, His hands, to guard and guide you. Pretty cool, huh?”

  Jonah had to admit that this was pretty cool. The hands of Elohim. Angels. He had never thought of it like that, but realizing Henry had been close by all of his life made him think that maybe Elohim Himself was closer than he imagined.

  “So,” Jonah said, looking up from his shoes and into the eyes of his new angel-friend, “what can you do?”

  Henry stared blankly. “What do you mean?”

  “You know, what can you do? Like, what kind of cool stuff can you do? Flying, of course. What else?”

  “Well, there are lots of different types of angels. Some who are assigned to people, like me. Others who are purely messengers, like Gabriel. Then there are those specifically created for battle. I’m sure you know who leads our army,” Henry explained.

  Jonah thought hard for a minute and then snapped his fingers. “Michael!”

  Henry closed his eyes and nodded solemnly.

  “I can do some things you humans would consider quite extraordinary,” he said. “But I don’t dare do anything just to show off.”

  “Aw, come on, Henry!” Jonah chided him. “Just show me a few tricks. I’m part angel, you know. You could consider it . . . tutoring.”

  Henry looked at Jonah suspiciously. “Tutoring, huh?”

  Jonah nodded eagerly, and Henry rolled his eyes, but Jonah had a feeling that he wouldn’t have to twist his arm too hard to get him to do something.

  “Please?” Jonah begged. “How else will I learn? I could hurt myself, you know, or someone in my family, if I don’t learn to control these powers.”

  That was all it took. Henry straightened his back, flapped his wings, and began to rise slowly off the ground. Then he sprang upward, so fast that Jonah had a hard time following him. He shot straight up, directly overhead, until all Jonah could see was a glittering speck that eventually disappeared into a white, fluffy cloud. Jonah stared at the cloud for half a minute but saw nothing. He began to wonder if he had annoyed Henry after all. Then suddenly, a gleam of silver burst through the cloud and was coming right at him, fast as a missile fired from a jet. But just over the tops of the trees, Henry slowed down, until he was floating down to the ground like a graceful feather, with his arms folded, right in front of Jonah.

  “Whoa,” Jonah said, impressed. “That was amazing!”

  “It’s no big deal. Something I do every day,” Henry said, suppressing a grin. “Now listen, Jonah, I think it’s about time you headed home.”

  “Just one more thing, Henry,” Jonah pleaded. “Just show me one more power.”

  Henry sighed, but held up a single index finger and said, “One more.”

  He stepped out from the trees and into the Stones’ backyard, turning toward the small pond. Reaching back over his shoulder, out of nowhere, he pulled a flaming arrow, at the same time that a bow suddenly appeared in his left hand. He strung the arrow and aimed it at the sky, pulling back and letting it fly.

  The arrow shot out of his hands, and Jonah and Henry watched the flaming arc burn across the darkening sky. It finally turned back toward the earth, falling, falling, until it dropped with a fizzle and splash into the middle of the pond.

  “Okay, you have to show me how to do that,” Jonah exclaimed.

  Henry watched the water ripples move outward to the edges of the pond as he spoke. “Angels have a closely connected relationship with Elohim, Jonah. It’s a connection we are born with. One that human beings do not naturally have. It can be attained, of course, but it is difficult. That’s where my ability comes from. You may be able to develop these kinds of powers, being a quarterling, but it will all be in Elohim’s timing. Just like finding your super-strength.” He eyed Jonah now. “And one thing to always remember, Jonah. Your true power will come through dependence and trust, not force and will.”

  Jonah heard his mother’s voice calling from the house, “Jonah! Time for dinner!”

  “Sounds like it’s time to go,” Henry said.

  He reluctantly agreed, and they turned to walk toward the house.

  “Keep
your eyes open, Jonah,” Henry said when they were almost to the door. “There are other creatures you may begin to see. Dangerous ones. Like us, but . . . well, also very different. They can inhabit people, or even animals, and control them. They call it ‘Holding.’”

  Jonah remembered the icy touch of the creature that had chased him the night before, and shivered. He was about to ask Henry about the incident, but his mom called him again. He ate his dinner quietly, unable to get Henry’s last warning out of his thoughts.

  SEVEN

  THE TAKING

  It was Wednesday morning, which meant housecleaning day around the Stone home. If she didn’t put it on the schedule, it would never get done. So every week, on the same day, Eleanor vacuumed, mopped, and otherwise straightened up.

  Not that it took her very long. When there was no one else home, she didn’t mind putting some of her nephilim abilities to good use. She sped around the house in a blur, and in no time, she had it looking great. Plus, it wasn’t a bad workout.

  She looked at the clock. Just enough time to shower and change, then meet a couple of friends for lunch before the kids came home from school.

  She was about to head upstairs when the doorbell rang.

  Glancing out the window on her way to the door, she noticed a white van, which had “Action Cable Television” emblazoned across its windowless sides, backed into their driveway underneath the basketball hoop. Action Cable was the largest provider of cable service in the state of New Jersey, and the company of choice in their neighborhood.

  Eleanor opened the door to two people wearing navy jackets that bore the cable company’s red, white, and blue logo. A stocky, bald man with a poorly fitting company hat stood on her left. There was some kind of tattoo across his neck and up across the back of his scalp. He was trying to manage a smile, but it came out more like someone had stepped on his toe.

  A thin woman with sunken cheeks stood to the right, her hat pulled low. She was staring at Eleanor’s feet.

  “Good morning,” Eleanor said, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. “I didn’t realize we were having problems with our television. Did my husband call you?”

  But even as the words left her lips, she locked eyes with the bald man, and in an instant, somehow, she knew exactly who they were. Her own eyes grew wide, suddenly full of terror.

  It was the color of his eyes, burning yellow.

  Before Eleanor could turn, or fight, or even scream, the bald man moved quickly inside the door. His hand closed like a vise around the back of her neck, and he covered her mouth with a black cloth he had pulled from his pocket. It muffled her scream, and he held her there tightly. The woman grabbed her, and together they wrestled her down inside the doorway, waiting for the ten seconds it would take for the chemical in the cloth to do its job.

  Finally, her eyes closed and she grew limp on the floor.

  The woman was already scanning the streets outside.

  “It looks clear, Marduk,” she said.

  “What did I say to you about using my real name, Dionyss?” He glared at her, his voice dripping with disgust.

  Dionyss looked down at the carpet, bowing her head. “I’m sorry, Commander. Forgive me.”

  Marduk grunted and waved her off, pushing his head with his hand until his neck popped loudly. He rubbed the back of his skull, along the tattoo of a large, black handprint. He was still trying to get used to his latest body. It had been a while since he had occupied someone. His role had always been to lord over his band of fallen ones in the Second Region: to rule them, to organize them, and send them to do his master’s bidding. His objective was to influence those in influential positions, to turn a thought in the right direction, to whisper in a willing ear, to monitor the progress of the war—and to report to his master, of course.

  But sometimes a good Holding was what the job demanded. It had taken over three years of patient work for this plan to unfold, and now was one of those times.

  Dionyss had occupied her host’s body for almost that entire time. She had watched the Stone house every day for the past several months. Long enough to know that the three kids would be at school and the husband would be at the church. No company. No neighbors going to and fro. Their timing was perfect.

  Marduk put the cloth back into a plastic bag and stuffed it in his pocket. He was pleased. Kidnapping a nephilim was serious, even for someone like him. He had come prepared for resistance. He’d only dealt with nephilim a handful of times, the last time thousands of years ago. But he remembered. The power of these creatures was special, unique. Both human and angel, they possessed enormous capabilities. But also one supreme weakness, he reminded himself. Which was why they had come in the first place.

  He studied Eleanor’s face and then stroked her cheek lightly.

  “You do look like your mother, that’s for sure.”

  Marduk pulled thick chains out of the bag Dionyss had carried in and wrapped them tightly around Eleanor’s wrists. He snapped a lock on them, while Dionyss did the same with Eleanor’s feet. After taping her mouth, they fit a long, black bag over her head, pulling it all the way down to her shoes. Marduk threw her over his shoulder and, with Dionyss carefully keeping watch for any unexpected observers, they crept back outside to the back of the van. Quickly, he laid Eleanor inside and slammed the double doors shut.

  They jumped into the van and sped out of the driveway, disappearing down the sunny, tree-lined street.

  Benjamin was in his office at church, working on next Sunday’s message, when he felt an overwhelming sense that something was desperately wrong. He had felt strong urges to pray before, usually for his family or for people in the church.

  But never anything like this.

  The feeling all but forced him out of his chair and onto the floor beside his desk. His heart felt dark, heavy.

  What is it, Elohim? What do You want me to do?

  Pray, My son. The voice was strong within his heart.

  He didn’t have to ask for whom. The name was already on his lips.

  “Eleanor . . .”

  He bent his face down to the carpet and began to pray.

  PART II

  INTO THE CITY

  Then the dragon was very angry at the woman, and he went off to make war against all her other children—those who obey God’s commands and who have the message Jesus taught.

  Revelation 12:17 NCV

  EIGHT

  VISITORS AT THE DOOR

  Benjamin came home to strangers waiting for him on his front porch.

  A large man with a chiseled face, wearing a black suit, stood beside a striking woman with red hair, also dressed in black. Their eyes were bright and strangely comforting, and he found himself drawn in.

  “Are you two . . . selling something?” Benjamin asked weakly, even though in his heart he knew the answer was no.

  “Can we come in, Benjamin?” the man said, ignoring the question.

  Benjamin hesitated, but continued to stare at them, saying nothing.

  The woman stepped forward. “It’s about your wife. It’s about Eleanor.”

  They knew something about her. He snapped back to life. “What about her? Where is she?”

  She studied him for a few seconds. “She’s been taken.”

  Jonah strolled home from the bus stop that sunny afternoon, eager for a snack and to catch up with his friend Tariq. They had spent the summer working on a fort in the woods that they called “Project X,” and it was almost finished. Eliza walked behind him with a couple of friends, and then plopped down on the curb, going over the results of their latest math test. Jeremiah had taken a different bus home with a boy from school.

  He bounded through the door and threw his book bag in the corner, making a beeline for the refrigerator.

  “Mom, I’m home!” he called out, opening the fridge door and searching for a snack. He looked around to make sure no one was watching, and then reached down for the half gallon of orange juice, popping the top off
and chugging a few gulps, straight from the carton.

  “Son . . .”

  He quickly put the juice container down and wiped his face. He hadn’t even noticed his dad, who had just stood up from the sofa in the den.

  “Dad? What are you doing home so—?”

  Two people, a man and a woman in business suits, stood up behind Benjamin. The man looked like his muscles were about to explode through his jacket. The woman had fiery red hair and an intense gaze.

  Henry, the Stone family’s guardian angel, stepped around to the side of the huge man. The man nodded at him and Jonah realized he could see Henry. That was weird.

  “Jonah,” his dad stammered, like he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. “These people are . . . well, they’re here to help with . . . they are investigators.” He was trying to compose himself, but wasn’t doing a great job of it. His eyes welled up with tears, even though he tried to hold them back.

  “Investigators?” Jonah repeated. “Like . . . police? Dad, what’s wrong?”

  Benjamin glanced at the woman, who nodded. He sighed loudly, pulling the glasses off his face. “Mom’s been taken. Someone kidnapped her.”

  Jonah froze, trying to understand the words his father had just said.

  “What do you mean, kidnapped?” he said, and then crossed his arms. “How do you know?”

  The man in the suit cleared his throat. “Our best intelligence suggests that she was taken a few hours ago.”

  Jonah shook his head. “She’s probably just out. Maybe for a run, or at the store or something. Right, Dad?” He looked at Benjamin, hoping he would agree. Instead, his father looked away.

  Jonah stared at the two strangers. “Who are you? Are you really police? Where’s your patrol car? If it’s true, shouldn’t there be a dozen cops scouring this place by now? Where are they?” He squinted at them and then looked at Henry. If they could see Henry, then they definitely weren’t cops. “You aren’t police, are you?”

  The woman looked up at her partner. “We might as well let him see who we are. After all, we are here to talk to him too.”