Angel Rising: Redemption Book 1

by Thompson, LaVerne

  “A chronicle from my great-grandmother’s time. Something she remembered her mother telling her she’d heard once.” She squinted at the page in her hand. “Hmm, time for this volume to be copied.”

  “Why don’t you just scan it into a computer?” he asked.

  “We’ve done that with a lot of our collection. Storing ages of observations on a mainframe. But it’s time consuming, and it’s not like we can send it out to be done. This is sensitive information that must be handled with the utmost care. I will make sure this book goes to the front of the line. Anyway, here.” She stopped her careful turning of the aged paper and pointed at the center of the page without touching it.

  “I was right.” She then read the paragraph aloud, “Heed thee sisters. Thy banished angels can regain thyne lost souls but thee must first find redemption by thy continence of thy reason for thyne creation. Even when hope exists no more, thee must continue to believe in emotion. Thee must continue to love. Have hope, have faith, have love. Heed thee well, thee have forgotten thyne reason for being. And forgotten thy first rule of all, thou shalt not kill. Thee have live so long yet forgotten so much. Tis one of thy reasons thy chronicles have come into being. To bear witness.

  “What?” Thalya exclaimed. “So, the rumors are true. I didn’t know about the banished angel part, but the part about being able to redeem our souls. There have always been rumors among the soulless of such a possibility, and the reason why some of my kind kill. By claiming the souls of others, they believe they’ll get their own back. I’ve never known it to happen, no matter how much blood is shed.” She glanced at Samuel. “But after hearing Samuel’s story here about his father being soulless, I was ready to believe. There’s just one problem I can see though. Sounds like to fulfill those terms we have to have emotion. We’re soulless, in case you’ve forgotten. We have no emotion of our own and must steal what we do have.”

  “That’s not quite true, dear.” Wilhelmina smiled.

  Thalya straightened up and glared at the woman. What the hell was she talking about?

  Wilhelmina didn’t at all appear intimidated or hesitant. Instead, she calmly stared back at her.

  “Explain,” Thalya demanded.

  Wilhelmina didn’t seem offended by her brisk tone. “You do have emotion. For instance, you hunger. You know desire, the driving need to feel, to feed. Those things are all forms of emotions.”

  “Not really,” Thalya replied. “Those are more instinctual basic survival needs.”

  “Yes. But they are also forms of emotion. And you also choose not to kill. Why?”

  “Why should I when there’s no need.”

  Wilhelmina shook her head and continued to smile. A know it all kind of smile, with only one corner of her thin lips curled up.

  The trait would’ve gotten on Thalya’s nerves if she had them. The woman confused her.

  “You made an emotional choice,” Wilhelmina explained.

  Thalya pondered her words. It still did not make sense.

  “What about the hunters?” Samuel asked. “Do you keep tabs on us too?”

  Wilhelmina turned her attention to him. “Oh, yes. Just as closely. We bear witness for those deeds too. We’ve got two entire volumes devoted to you, Samuel Glaus.”

  “You what?” He straightened and stared down at the seated woman.

  Thalya couldn’t help it. She laughed at the look on his face.

  “We have an entire shelf devoted to you as well you my dear.”

  Thalya’s laughter died at Wilhelmina’s statement.

  “Hmm, any chance I can get my hands on a few of those volumes?” Samuel asked, his hand rubbing his chin.

  “Not if I can help it,” Thalya snapped.

  Wilhelmina closed the book and led them back into the living room. “I’m sorry, Samuel, that’s out of the question.” She gestured for them to sit again before being seated herself.

  “But I still don’t understand,” Samuel said. “I can see why you’d want to keep tabs on the bloodsucker—soulless. But why the hunters?”

  “Because the hunters set themselves up as representing justice. God’s justice. As you know, too often they’ve acted for their own selfish motives. Even you, Samuel, are not pure of such vice. At least you’ve stopped killing without asking any questions. And to be fair, you only destroy the soulless that truly have no chance at redemption. There is too much blood on some hands.”

  “So, are you saying those who kill trying to reclaim their souls have no chance of doing so?” Thalya asked.

  Wilhelmina shook her head. “Not my call to make, but my sisters and I believe that is the case.”

  “So, why would you protect someone, especially if he is heaven’s reject?” Samuel challenged. “Why won’t you tell us where that soulless ran off too? Why protect him?”

  “Because he, like you, makes assumptions. I do not know if he is redeemable or not. I protect no one individual. We are neutral in this war and will not take a life, not even in protection of the chronicles. My sisters and I are merely the observers for this frame of time.”

  “Yet, you don’t really seem to want to share what you know, and you won’t let me see the books,” he pointed out.

  Wilhelmina smiled. “On the contrary, I just did. We do share our knowledge, up to a point. You see the chronicles aren’t really for our use.”

  Samuel frowned. “I don’t get it. Then who?”

  “When the time comes, they will all be claimed and used as an accounting of each life recorded therein, including that of the chronicler. Some have already been claimed.”

  “By who?” Thalya asked.

  “I cannot tell you.”

  Thalya stared at the woman before her. Whose hands were folded in her lap and radiated nothing but calm. However, Thalya’s senses screamed at her. Something about Wilhelmina, she seemed human and yet…She got up and went over to the photograph on the bookcase Samuel had picked up earlier. “How long have you been doing this?”

  The aged photograph showed Wilhelmina with two women who resembled her standing in front of a car. Judging by the style of the car and the quality of the photograph, both were about thirty years old, yet Wilhelmina didn’t appear as though she’d aged a day.

  Wilhelmina looked at her and smiled. “A very long time, dear.”

  “Ah huh,” Thalya nodded. “How long exactly? How old are you?”

  “Now, Thalya you know good and well it’s impolite to ask a woman her age.” She sighed as if knowing Thalya wouldn’t give up. “I am human, but my family has been blessed with living beyond the normal human age. Not too far beyond—nothing in your league, Thalya, my dear, or even Samuel’s but long enough for us to prepare the next generation. I will be a hundred years old next month.”

  “What?” Samuel cried. “You can’t be human.”

  “Ah, but I am.”

  Thalya examined the photograph again, before returning it to its place on the shelf. “And you can block my probes.”

  “Yes. We’re well trained from an early age to strengthen our minds and contain our emotions.”

  “Well, you’re very good and you don’t look a day over fifty,” Thalya stated as pure fact.

  “Some days I feel every bit a hundred. But not today. Today, I feel younger than I have in a long while.”

  “The women in the photograph, are they your sisters?” Thalya asked.

  “Yes. Now, if you will excuse me, I do have work to do. I have to record the two of you meeting and then our meeting today. Something tells me you two coming together will require an entirely new volume.”

  “I’m not sure if I like the idea of you spying on me,” Samuel interjected, leaning forward with his arms folded across his chest. “And frankly, how are you getting your information?”

  “Ah, now I can not tell you that either. Safe to say nothing much happens with soulless or hunters escape our notice. It has been a pleasure meeting you both. It is a rare privilege for us to interact with our charges. I
had hoped to be able to meet you Samuel one day and to meet Thalya too.” She clapped her hands together and beamed her pleasure. “Wait until I talk to my sisters. They’ll be green with envy.”

  “May we visit you again?” Thalya asked. “I’m curious to read what you’ve written about me.”

  “Only if I can too,” Samuel piped in.

  Wilhelmina laughed. “Oh, you two. Come back anytime. I will give you both some of what we have on each of you. You may tell me if we’ve got any of our facts wrong. But no peeping at each other’s volumes.”

  “By the way, where do you keep those volumes?” Samuel asked. “They can’t be among those books displayed out there on your shelves.”

  “Very good. No they aren’t. This store is larger than it seems.”

  He nodded seemingly in understanding.

  “It was informative meeting you,” Thalya said. It had been interesting meeting Wilhelmina. She’d given her a lot to think about. Something she needed to share with others of her kind.

  “Yes,” Samuel echoed. “It was good to meet you. I’m sure we’ll both be back.”

  “Come back in a few days. I’ll have a volume ready for both of you. But you won’t be able to take them off the premises.”

  They left the bookstore and headed in the direction of Thalya’s condo.

  “What are you thinking,” she asked.

  He glanced over at her. “What? You can’t read my thoughts?”

  “No. Usually, I can pick up surface thoughts but I’d have to touch you to do even that. You’ve got too good control over your emotions, so I can’t read you well.” Unless the emotions were so strong they seeped beyond his control, like the lust always skirting around the edge of his emotions. She wisely kept the thought to herself.

  “Good to know.”

  “Where are we going?” she asked, glancing around. She’d really been following him more than leading but they were headed in the general direction of her condo.

  “I thought that was obvious.”

  “Not to me.” Thalya stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. People walked around them, instinctively knowing to stay clear of the gorgeous couple blocking the way. Thalya couldn’t decide if she wanted to return with him to her condo, fearing yet anticipating how their night might end. And yes…excitement accelerated her heart rate and not the need to feed. Emotion she should be incapable of feeling. Either way, she couldn’t tell if it was a good thing or not.

  “I thought we’d go back to your place and talk.” He frowned as he stared at her. “Try to figure out why a soulless followed you and who he might be.”

  “Why are you assuming I am the one being followed? He could have been following you. You do, after all, hunt our kind. I, on the other hand, am of his kind. There would be no reason for him to try to end my existence.”

  “This is why we need to talk.” Samuel didn’t give her a chance to agree or not. Simply took her arm and continued walking back to her condo.

  She remained silent because the warmth of his hand penetrated through the material of her coat. She didn’t know how she could feel it, only the fact she did and didn’t want to take a chance and have it end. Not just yet.

  They didn’t speak again, until they were back at her place and sitting on opposite ends of her couch. She’d hung her coat up in the closet but he still wore his jacket. Their bodies angled toward each other, arms resting along the back of the long couch, close but not quite touching. She missed his heat. “Okay, talk.”

  “Wilhelmina gave us a lot of information tonight. She told us things neither one of us knew. I wonder why she was so forthcoming with her information?” he noted.

  Thalya took her shoes off, curled her legs under her and placed her hand on her ankle.

  Samuel’s gaze followed her every move.

  “I think because we asked.” She shrugged and his gaze shifted back up to her face. “She did say we were the first of her charges she’d ever had the privilege to actually speak to.”

  Samuel frowned. “But what about the guy who disappeared in the store? Remember I tracked him there and Wilhelmina either hid him from us somehow, or helped him get away. So, she’s not as neutral as she claims.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” Thalya said. “Or maybe like she said, she made no assumptions about him and just pointed him in the direction of the back door.”

  “I think something more maybe going on here. Maybe these chroniclers are beginning to choose sides.”

  She shook her head. “But to what purpose? If they wanted to join the hunters, wouldn’t they have approached you all before this? Given you all the information on my kind they have? Which, I got the impression, seemed extensive and would be a tremendous help to you.”

  “Maybe it’s not the hunters they’re backing.”

  She hesitated before voicing an automatic rejection, considered it, then shook her head. “Again, to what purpose? They would gain nothing by helping the soulless, nor we them. They cannot get souls for us or, if we really were angels, return us into the good graces of our maker. Even if they helped us fulfill our need for emotion, what could possibly be in it for them?”

  “All good questions. Which is why we’re going to keep an eye on that place and pay Ms. Wilhelmina another visit in a few days, if not sooner, to see if we can get some of those questions answered.” Samuel’s cell phone vibrated. He pulled it from his jacket pocket and stared at it.

  She sensed he’d been expecting the call.

  “I’ve got to take this.”

  Thalya got up and went into her kitchen to give him a semblance of privacy. With her enhanced hearing, even if he were out in the hallway, she could hear both sides of the conversation. She tried not to listen, really, but couldn’t help it. Somehow, she’d become tuned to him and couldn’t block out anything having to do with Samuel.

  She took down two round glasses from her cabinet and found the bottle of brandy she’d gotten from her friend Davis, right after he’d sealed it for her, over a hundred years ago. She poured herself barely a half finger’s worth and poured Samuel a lot more. Judging from the conversation on the phone, she figured he’d need it. While she couldn’t eat human food, couldn’t even smell it, she did like to pretend she could enjoy a fine glass of brandy from time to time.

  According to Wilhelmina, perhaps she did.

  Returning to the living room, Thalya stopped. She didn’t find him on the sofa but standing in front of the now closed balcony doors, looking out at the night. “Here,” she said as she approached and held the glass out to him.

  He turned and took it out of her hand. “Thank you,” Samuel replied and wrapped his hand around it.

  Their fingers brushed and the heat from the contact raced through her system.

  “I’m pretty sure you heard the conversation.”

  She paused, trying to analyze how she could feel so much heat around him but had no answers. “Yes. I know you have to leave. It’s fine.”

  “I’m sorry. I have a few minutes though.”

  “And it never hurts to make an entrance.”

  He grinned and lifted his glass to silently toast her before taking a taste.

  Yes. They understood each other.

  “This is good stuff,” he commented.

  “Sure is. I love the night.” She flipped the switch on the wall and the lights in the living room went off. Then she pushed open the doors and walked outside, moving close to the railing on the balcony. When wrapped in the blanket of night like this, she could almost feel. Funny, tonight perhaps she really did, but it had nothing to do with the night. It had more to do with Samuel. She drained her glass and placed it on top of the wide balcony banister.

  The wind blew her array of curls about her face just as Samuel came to stand at her side. He leaned his hip against the stone so he faced her, took another sip of his brandy before placing the glass on the banister beside hers. He raised his hand and captured a few loose strands of her hair, rubbing them between his
long fingers before pushing them behind her ear.

  Thalya didn’t move, trying not to think about just how much she wanted him to stay near her.

  Samuel stood there with his hand hovering at the side of her neck for a couple of seconds, saying nothing, just breathing. He sighed and lowered his arm. “They have no right to demand an accounting of why you weren’t killed,” he finally said. “And to call me in to face them for it.” Frustration drifted off him in waves as he glanced down on the street.

  “Yet, they’re doing so,” she said.

  “It’s Ray. One of my men.” He picked up his glass again and drained it. “His grandfather, Tom, was a hunter. He and I butted heads many times. Still, he was a good man to have at your back, and in the end, he fully supported me. Tom trained his grandson to be a hunter. Ray had always been aware of us. His grandfather expected him to join him in the fight. Ray, on the other hand, had no interest in becoming a hunter, until about a year ago.”

  “What happened?”

  “One of the soulless killed his grandfather. His death hit Ray hard and he blamed himself. He’s still young and rash, but not stupid. Ray wanted to go after the soulless that did it, but knew he couldn’t succeed alone, so he came to me for help. He’s been hunting with us ever since. In fact, he acts as my second.”

  “Did you find the one who did it?” As soon as she asked the question, she already knew the answer, no mind reading necessary. Samuel was the kind of hunter who, once he began to hunt, there’d be no stopping him. She shivered. She never shivered and not from fear.

  He looked over at her and raised his eyebrows. “What do you think? Anyway, recently Ray’s been causing problems within our group. At first, I understood his anger stemmed from grief and guilt, but he’s been given enough slack. He knows our code and swore to honor it. As far as I know, he hasn’t broken our rules, but he’s come close, too close. Worse, there are other young ones quick to support him. We’re all very aware of what the soulless are capable of.”

  “I take it he wants to use a more aggressive approach?”

  “Oh, yeah. Something I’ve always argued against with the other hunter groups and convinced most to do things my way. We only target those who have killed or made a confirmed attempted kill. But in truth, until you, I’ve never met a soulless who didn’t kill or attempt to kill his or her prey. It’s the mass killing of innocent people who were human in the past that led us to operate this way. Sometimes, the hunters couldn’t always tell the difference, who belonged to which group, thought it was contagious, or didn’t really care.” His large hand grabbed the edge of the balcony. “But some memories have short life spans and none of the hunters, other than myself of course, were around back then. So history has a nasty habit of repeating itself.”