by Diane Capri
Maria tightened her grip on Lito’s hand.
“Here they come.”
CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE
THE DOOR WAS LOCKED.
Dim light pooled into the empty corridor, just enough falling on the door for Nick to read the placard.
VIP Lounge 6.
Whether from running like a madman or the thought of a sniper taking his shot at Hope soon after Hartwell finished his introduction, Nick’s chest was pounding so hard he thought it might explode.
No point in attempting to teleport. It drew blood and threatened to crush his head with pain—and would only waste time if it failed, which in all likelihood it would.
Perhaps he could pass through the door. He pressed his hand against it, but the door’s physical properties resisted. He strained, pressing with all his might.
“Come...on!” He felt with his fingertips for the loosening of the door’s molecules. But even the memory of how to do this seemed to be eluding him. He stopped straining, took a deep breath, and pressed against the door as if he were absolutely sure he could pass through it.
Then, it happened.
First the fingernails.
Then the tip of his forefinger.
And then his entire hand passed through the door.
He turned the handle. The door still wouldn’t open.
Deadbolt.
He reached up and unlocked it, then pulled his hand back through the door and opened it.
The lounge was pitch black save for a sliver of light piercing the blinds a little ways ahead—sufficient to illuminate the man in dark clothes propped up against a window sill with a rifle.
Hartwell’s voice rang out. “Please welcome Hope Matheson.” Waves of applause went up.
The sniper aimed. Took a breath...
And fired just as Nick rushed him headlong.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-FOUR
TO THE APPLAUSE OF THOUSANDS, Hope had ascended the steps to the stage. Where was Nick? Was she really going to have to do this without the one most responsible for the healing she was about to share with the audience?
But share it she must. Overwhelmed with the welcome by these thousands she’d never met, she nonetheless felt a kinship with them. She walked to the podium and stood there until the applause subsided.
She was ready.
“Hi, everyone...Wow!” She smiled and wiped a tear before it could roll down her face. “You know, it was only weeks ago that I could barely pull myself out of my cot in a shelter each morning without thinking I had nothing to live for, my life was miserable, the universe hated me...And I’ll tell you, it really did feel that way.
“You see, I lost my father to cancer when I was a little girl. A bit later, I was abused over and over again by my stepfather. Brandon, my first husband—the love of my life—was killed in Iraq just after my daughter Chloe was born. My second husband turned out to be a gambler who got himself and Chloe killed. After that I just gave up on everything.
“I eventually tried to end my life by jumping from the Coronado Bridge, but I was rescued—just as I jumped.” She could almost feel the collective gasp. “The scriptures say we should ‘show kindness to strangers, for by so doing some have shown kindness to angels without knowing it.’ But in my case, God sent an angel who showed me kindness.
“Nevertheless, even after that rescue, I tried to take my life again. You see, I kept listening to the enemy’s accusing voices and lies. This time I nearly succeeded. But somehow, the pills I took didn’t stay down. And by God’s grace, I saw my past through an entirely different perspective.
“This time as I relived those painful events, I heard God saying, ‘I am there, Hope.’ I thought, ‘You mean, you were there, don’t you?’ But God corrected me. “I am there. In your past, your future, I am there.’
“Right there, I realized that He exists outside of time, that I was not alone during my darkest hours. And although I still remember the awful things that happened, the pain from them eased. I’m not saying it went away completely, but it stopped hurting me, its hold on my life was broken.
“I don’t know how else to explain it, but some of you know what I’m talking about, right? Some of you have been healed before like this, can I get a witness?”
Shouts of amen, and applause rose up.
“Tonight, I just want you all to know. We have a good God. He’s powerful, omniscient, omnipotent, and omnipresent. He holds time in his hand. That’s why he can be in our past, present and future simultaneously. He is the same yesterday and today and forever.
“So whatever you’re suffering from, no matter how dire the situation, how deep the pain, God wants you to know that He has come to bring good news to the afflicted, to bind up the brokenhearted...”
She’d never considered herself eloquent enough to speak in public, but the rapt audience didn’t intimidate her. And the words, the scriptures she never knew she’d memorized seemed to just flow out of her.
“He’s here to proclaim liberty to captives, freedom to prisoners...to console those who mourn, to give them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning!
“Tonight, whoever you are, wherever you’ve been, it’s not too late. Even if you’re suffering the consequences of your own mistakes, your own failures, He’s got healing for you.”
From the corner of her eye, she could see the tears on Jonathan Hartwell’s face. His wife held his hand and dabbed the corners of her eye with a tissue.
“Whether it’s the pain of the past, the hurt you’re feeling now, the worries about tomorrow, He’s saying to you right now, “I AM THERE!” She turned and pointed to the crowds in each section of the stadium, saying each time, “with you, and with you, and you!”
As she turned back to the camera, a flash of light from the shadows of the private boxes caught her eye. A half-second later, something hot whisked through her hair just above her ear.
That was when the screaming began.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-FIVE
THE FIRST THING NICK FELT AFTER HE CHARGED at the sniper was the butt of the rifle slamming into his gut. His stomach felt like it was imploding. Flat on his back and stunned, he could hardly breathe. But he was pretty sure he’d disrupted at least one of the sniper’s two shots.
He swung his rifle around at Nick’s head. Nick managed to block it with his arm, then tried to stand.
But the distinct clack of a round being chambered stopped him.
“Who are you?” The shooter’s voice was intense but quiet. He pinned Nick’s shoulder down with a heavy foot and pressed the rifle’s muzzle into his chest.
“Wait,” Nick said.
The hammer cocked.
Nick squeezed his eyes tight, grit his teeth against the pain, and focused on the cold barrel through which a bullet was about to end his mortal life, short as it had been.
Just as the shooter pulled the trigger.
The gun vanished.
“What—?”
A fraction of a second later, it reappeared—somewhere near the door, judging by the flash of light and loud shot. Nick swung his foot under the astonished sniper’s legs, collapsing them behind the knees so that he fell back with a thud.
His whole body throbbing with pain, his powers pulsing intermittently like a dying star, Nick thrust his hand down on the sniper’s forehead as he struggled to get up. Whether he was human or Nephilim, Nick couldn’t be certain.
He only hoped his next move would work.
The shooter became deathly still. Then he hugged his chest, shaking violently while emitting a wheezing sound meant to be a scream. Nick’s construct made him experience the terror of a coiling forty-foot python crushing the life out of him. Every breath he took would cause the huge serpent to squeeze harder.
But his pain, unlike Nick’s, wasn’t real. Battling the nausea and pain from the latest flare-up of his failing supernatural power, he focused on the podium where Hope had been speaking and prayed he wasn’t too late.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-SIX
“Elaine!” He ran to her and Matthew, throwing himself over them without a thought for his own safety.
Another shot.
Something hit him between the shoulder blades.
His head struck the ground as he fell.
A scarlet puddle widened around him.
The last thing he saw was his wife and son kneeling over him, Elaine crying, Matthew screaming.
“Daddy!”
CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN
NICK HAD TELEPORTED TO THE STAGE, but the pain was so intense he could barely see past the glowing flecks swarming before his eyes.
“Oh my God, Nick!” Hope buried her face in his chest. He thought she was crying—hard to hear with all the chaos on the stage. He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face the steps where people were fleeing.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
She pointed down to Jon. “What about Pastor Hartwell?”
He lay motionless, the white shirt under his navy jacket soaked with blood. The bullet must have gone straight through his chest.
Nick had taken care of the sniper, but greater threats loomed. And if Lena hadn’t seen Nick by now, her cohorts surely had.
Nevertheless, he went over and knelt by Hartwell, who grasped his hand with icy fingers.
With a gasp, he uttered his last words.
“Elaine...Matthew...” But security had rushed them away, out of the line of fire.
The rage and sadness Nick felt rivaled the pain in his head. Lena’s heartless machinations had taken the first victims. Had he his full strength as a guardian, he might rather enjoy destroying her as he had so many of the Dark Dominion’s more formidable agents. But time was running out, as were his powers.
He had to get Hope to safety.
“There isn’t much time.” He grabbed her hand rushed her over to the steps at the edge of the stage, and crouched behind a wall of equipment crates. Catching his breath, he said, “We’re going to have to leave unconventionally.”
“Nick, what’s happening?”
“I’ll explain later, first I’ve got to get you out of here before...” He glanced up at the thousands scrambling to leave the stadium. Lena had recruited mortal and supernatural help to kill them all with the bombs. There was no way any of them could simply walk out.
“Before what, Nick?”
It wouldn’t be a complete lie if he told her that hers was the only life that mattered to him. But the thought of leaving all these innocent people to die troubled him.
“Hope, listen. I’m losing my powers even as we speak. I might have just enough to take us to safety before...”
Throughout the stadium, the sound of automatic gunfire rang out. Hernandez and Suarez men brandished assault rifles and blocked the exits, every passageway a narrow tunnel of death. A couple of brave fools rushed the gunmen but were shot before they got within striking distance.
The lights in the entire stadium went out.
Terrified screams filled the air.
Save for dim ambient light coming in from the translucent panels of the stadium dome and cell phone cameras acting as flashlights, the entire place was dark.
“Before what?” Hope said.
“They’ve got the stadium rigged with nuclear explosives.”
He couldn’t see her reaction, but he did hear her gasp.
“Why would anyone—who’s doing this?”
“My former supervisor. Can’t tell just how many humans and angels—or demons, rather—she’s got working with her. It turns out I was one of her unwitting recruits.”
Hope was speechless.
“We need to go, now!” A spike of pain that struck his head kept him from saying more.
The sounds of panic grew louder. Gunshots, screams, cries for help. Hope was shaking, her breathing staccato.
“All right,” she said. “Let’s go.”
But even in the darkness, their mutual pause confirmed that it was not so simple as leaving.
“Hope...”
“Are you thinking what I am?” she whispered.
“I must be insane.”
It didn’t take supernatural abilities for either of them to know how the other felt.
Or that they agreed.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT
THE PAIN IT COST NICK TO TELEPORT with Hope to a corridor across the stadium was excruciating. He could barely pick himself off the concrete with the daggers impaling his skull through his eyes and ears. Another power surge. Slightly weaker than the last one but agonizing nonetheless.
“You’re bleeding.” Hope pulled a tissue from her pocket and blotted his upper lip.
“Part of the process,” Nick said. “The more mortal I become, the more it hurts to use my powers. Especially teleporting.” He put his head in his hands. “Any idea where we are?”
As she looked around, screams and gunshots echoed through the corridors.
“All I can see is a big letter C painted by the doorway.”
Sublevel C.
“Good.” He steadied himself against the wall.
“Do you hear that?” Hope whispered.
“What is it?”
“Shhh!” In the curved concrete corridors, rapid footfalls grew louder. “Someone’s coming.”
Nothing but the blood-red glow of emergency signs lit the area. Nick got in front of her and leaned up against the wall.
“Stay close.”
“How much time do we have before the bombs go off?”
“A few minutes.”
“Do you know where they are?”
“Not exactly. I heard something about—hold on.” He felt a draft. It reminded him of the dark vapor that used to appear like a portent when he was an angel. Probably just air coming through a vent. He glanced up and saw a sign with an arrow pointing to LOCKER ROOM C.
“Come on,” he said. Hope didn’t move.
“That’s the direction where they’re coming from!”
She was right, and they were getting louder.
“If we don’t hurry, it won’t matter,” Nick said. “Nothing will.”
They ran until what looked like a pair of shadows stopped short a little ways ahead of them.
“Don’t shoot!” a trembling female voice called out.
“Callate!” a man said.
There was no mistaking that voice.
Nick stepped into the red light.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-NINE
“NICK? IS THAT YOU OVER THERE?”
Lito Guzman stepped into the light.
“Yes,” Nick said, straining to see. “What are you doing here?”
“Who is this guy, Lito?” The young woman with him emerged from the shadows.
Hope came to Nick’s side. “What’s going on?”
“It’s going to be okay now,” Lito said to the young woman. Then to Nick: “This is my sister, Maria.” To Maria: “This is Nick. He’s the angel that—”
“The situation is much worse than you can imagine,” Nick said.
“What’s worse than a bunch of armed Mexican drug lords trying to kill us?” Maria said. “It’s only a matter of time before they catch up.”
“We’ve no time for this,” Nick said, as he led them down the hall to locker room C. “There are two nuclear devices, one here and one in locker room B. We’re going to try to stop them from—”
“Nukes!” the former cartel leader said. “What’s going on?”
“Lito, you’ve got to get yourself and Maria out of here.” They were now in Locker Room C, where an open suitcase sat brazenly on the floor by an open locker. The device inside was beeping quietly and rhythmically while the yellow LED of its timer ticked down.
8:59...
8:58...
8:57...
Maria and Hope stared at the suitcase, too panicked to
speak. Lito, however, began to mutter. About the only phrase that came through clearly was, “Why, Nick?”
“It’s an angels and demons thing, okay? Get out of the stadium, now!” Nick’s voice boomed through the curved concrete corridors. In the silence that followed, they heard the sound of running feet.
Lito grabbed his arm. “You’re a freakin’ angel, Nick. Can’t you just beam that thing out into space?”
“You think this is Star Trek or something? I’m losing my powers and getting weaker. There are two bombs. And the Suarez and Hernandez men are out there, armed and coming for us.” The running steps were close now.
“Can’t you do what you did last time and mess with their heads?”
“All right, Lito. Time to go—there may be another exit behind us, I’ll see if I can buy you some time.”
“No way,” he said. “You saved my life, I’m not leaving you on your own. Maria, you go and—”
“If I’m going to die,” she shot back, “I’ll do it helping, not running.” She and her brother exchanged a quick nod, then Lito turned to Nick.
“Tell us what to do.”
Nick scanned the locker room and pointed to an exit at the opposite wall.
“Downstairs. Locker Room B. Find the other nuke.”
“And do what, exactly?” Maria said.
“I don’t know yet. First we have to—”
He stopped, because the running steps had stopped. A cold gust from behind—the locker room door was open. He turned around to face the cartel members.
It wasn’t them.
Lena and her Nephilim stood before them.
“Nikolai, Nikolai, Nikolai,” she said. “I’m disappointed in you.” She glared at him with aloof eyes, which was perhaps her most dangerous look.
Nick leaned over to Lito and whispered, “Run.”
CHAPTER NINETY
IT DIDN’T TAKE LONG. Lito and Maria dashed through the exit while Nick put himself between Hope and Lena. Serena and Gunther stood on either side of their leader. More pounding footfalls sounded in the corridor, no doubt the cartel members.
