The Helio Trilogy: Volumes 1-3

by Valerie Roeseler

  Jack stands with such swiftness, I barely see him move as he faces his mother. “No!” he shouts. Evelyn’s lips form a tight line.

  His outburst terrifies me. “Who's Azrael?”

  Evelyn takes her time to answer me. “When it came time for The Creator to shape the body of Adam, He requested for three angels to bring him soil from the earth. Azrael was one of the three messengers. Prior to the request from The Creator, he had transgressions he believed would be forgiven by completing this task. Each time one of the three descended to Earth, the world shuddered violently to test the messengers of their strength and faith in His Divine plan. While the first two messengers feared the consequences of the occurrence, Azrael was the only messenger to achieve The Creator’s mission. In doing so, The Creator appointed Azrael with an important responsibility. Azrael was charged to live a life on Earth, to gather the souls of men and women when their time came. Whether they be saints or sinner, beggars or princes, old or young. And so, he became known as The Angel of Death. He's distinguished from all other angels of The Creator by his dark purple wings and violet eyes.”

  I can’t move. I can’t blink. I can’t close my gaping mouth. My vision narrows. I don’t know how to react. I’m a descendant of The Angel of Death? The. Angel. Of. Death. And that makes me different. If I’m a descendant of The Angel of Death, what does that make me?

  Jack's on his knees beside me. “I’m so sorry, Ivy. I didn’t know. I really didn’t know,” he profusely apologizes over and over again.

  My entire body becomes as cold and still as a block of ice. Without blinking, I prompt, “What does that mean for me?”

  “We shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Right, Mother? I mean, she still shares visible traits of a true Archangel.” Jack looks to his mother for agreement.

  Evelyn explains, “Yes, Jack. But you can’t look at Azrael with fear. He's not evil. Nor is he good. He's neutral. His duties are imperative to keep the balance. It's not his job to provide the way of death. That's the duty of the Kere. Azrael’s purpose was to guide the souls of man to their rightful destinations. Whether it be to the gates of Paradise or the gates of Sheol. Since the human population has grown since their beginning, Azrael now commands other Guides and reveals to them where each soul’s destination lies.”

  “What does that mean? Do I get a choice? What am I?” I shout to them with desperation.

  Evelyn embraces me until my tears slow, and I begin to relax. She releases me from the embrace but leaves her hands on my shoulders. “It means you may progress into a great warrior who will fight alongside others against the evil of the world to protect the souls of mankind, or you may be destined to follow the footsteps of Azrael and become a Guide to souls.”

  “You mean a Reaper?” I imply with fear.

  Evelyn scoffs. “Such a distasteful title, but yes. Not the way you believe Reapers to be, though. Mankind has made them out to be entities which carry out the events that cause death. That's not the case. The Kere are those who cause death to humans. Then the Guides, or Reapers as some call them, only remove the soul from its host to guide it to its rightful destination. But we won’t know what your duties will be until your transformation.”

  “What kind of transformation? What will happen to me?” I'm having trouble trying to accept my new reality.

  Jack speaks first. His smile assures me the transformation won’t be repulsive. “No matter which fate you're destined for, your DNA will begin its metamorphosis first. Your metabolism will increase greatly, and your body temperature will escalate. Then, your reflexes will exceed any human capabilities. You'll be able to run faster, jump higher, see further, hear better, and you'll become stronger. And lastly, your wings will emerge. Only then, will it be known what your destiny truly is. If your wings are green, you'll become a protector of mankind as an Archangel. If they are purple—”

  “I’ll be a Reaper,” I whisper in defeat. Jack nods his head. “How long do I have until my transformation?”

  “It usually starts at age sixteen, which is why you started having omens around that age. Your final transformation will happen on your twentieth birthday. You’ll never physically age beyond that point,” Jack holds my hand for support.

  “That means I have less than a month!” I yell. “Wait,” I drop my voice. “Are you saying I would be immortal? Are you immortal? How old are you?” Questions begin to spew from my mouth.

  “Yes. You’ll become immortal…like us.” He hesitates and searches my face. “I’m young compared to most Archangels… I’m only six hundred and thirty-one.”

  “What!” I screech, then quickly lower my voice. “Wow,” I mumble, trying to comprehend.

  The room is silent as I take everything in. It's a lot of information to process. It's as if the person I had been for the last nineteen years is nothing but a glimpse at a stranger's life. I'm being thrown into a body and life of another stranger I don’t know how to navigate.

  Evelyn brakes the silence, “What I don’t quite understand is the Second Sight you've been given. That's not a trait of an Archangel or a Reaper that I know of.”

  “Second Sight?” I ask.

  “Yes. Omens are the result of an underdeveloped Second Sight. Once the ability of Second Sight has fully developed, omens are replaced with premonitions,” she explains.

  “If it doesn’t come from an Archangel, where would I get it from?”

  This just keeps getting better and better, I think with sarcasm.

  “I’m not sure. It’s not an ability I've heard of in any angel. Not even Azrael himself. I’ll do my best to find out more for you. Maybe we can find out who your parents are.” Evelyn walks over to me and places her hands on my shoulders again. “Don’t worry, dear. We’re here for you every step of the way.” She pulls me into another loving embrace and strokes my hair. As she releases me, I feel like I can breathe again. “Now, I know this has been a lot to take in. Why don’t you try and get some rest, dear?”

  I nod, “Thank you.”

  Releasing a heavy breath, I follow Evelyn out of the office. Jack grabs my wrist to stop me, and I look over my shoulder at his sorrowful expression. “I need to be alone, Jack.” He releases my arm with reluctance. I wander down the corridors to the winding staircase that will take me to my room on the third floor. My surroundings become nonexistent as my thoughts introvert upon themselves. I pass the threshold and stumble to the muddled king size bed. My body collapses face first across its forgiving surface, and I make no effort to move my face from its impending suffocation for what seems to be hours. I want to shut my mind off. I don’t want to think anymore.

  I need a drink. I contemplate the bottle of Jäger beside my bed but refuse to move. I can’t imagine what it will be like to have to take someone’s soul—I don’t want to imagine it—It must cause a lot of pain to the person. I don’t want to be a Reaper!

  I groan and roll over to lay on my back, but I'm not ready to face the world. I reach over for my pillow and shield my face and myself from reality. Even through the stillness, I can’t get away. I hold the pillow tight against my face and squeeze my eyes shut tight. I scream into the pillow until all breath leaves my lungs.

  “Ivy!” Jack’s mumbled cries of worry seep through the barrier of the pillow into my suppressed hearing. I don’t answer him. Jack pulls the pillow away from my face with slow deliberation. “Ivy?” I'm speechless. His worried expression turns to sadness, and then to acceptance. No words are spoken as he searches my face. His bright green eyes bore into me, and I can feel myself beginning to relax with his presence. Jack brushes my face with his fingertips. The whole world begins to fade away. There's nothing but him.

  “Jack?” His hand stills and his gaze meets mine. “I’m scared.”

  “I know.” Jack forces me to sit up. “There's nothing to be afraid of. I’m here.”

  With his words, images flash behind my eyes of Jack laying in the grass beside me, whispering the same words, ‘I’m here.' I shake my he
ad in acceptance of the connection between the moment and the vision of my dream.

  “I won’t let anything happen to you, Sunshine.”

  “Will it hurt?”

  “Your transformation?” I bob my head, focusing on our entwined fingers. “The pain's different for each of us. It will hurt. How much it hurts depends on how strong your mind is.” I bob my head again in understanding. “Behind every beautiful thing, there’s been some kind of pain.”

  My head snaps up, and I smile for the first time since my world began to tumble down. “Did you just quote Bob Dylan?”

  Jack’s million dollar smile makes my heart flutter. He chuckles, “I did. It’s nice to see you smile again.” I let out an audible sigh, and we fall into a comfortable silence.

  “Can I see them?” I coax with soft-spoken shyness.

  Jack searches my face in question. “See who?”

  “Your wings.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. I want to know.”

  He rises from the bed with grace and methodically rearranges the furniture in front of the hearth to the furthest walls of the room. How big are they? I stand at the foot of the bed and wait while he clears the floor. He comes to stand across from me. Even though I want him to be closer, I don’t know what to expect and kept my distance.

  Jack stands as still as a statue before me, gauging my disposition. He crosses his arms over his hips, grasps the bottom of his white cotton shirt, and tugs it over his head. Heat radiates into my cheeks as I observe his iron muscles and impeccable, smooth skin. Jack hesitates, and my nerves tremble inside of my body. He widens his stance to be even with the width of his shoulders, and I search his face for any signs of pain. His bright green eyes begin to radiate a white light and become two glowing orbs that take my breath away. His face is almost savage in its splendor. His brows converge as his jaw tenses. There's an echo of snapping and violent shattering of bones which reverberates from behind him. My eyes widen in surprise. Dark green feathers curve over his shoulders behind his back. His muscles tense as his wings release wide on either side of him with a sound comparable to a towel being shaken out with a belligerent flick of the wrists. The edges of his wings stretch into jagged piercing points as his eyes dim down to their natural bright green. Then, his extensions relax to rest behind him. Their arches elevate above his shoulders, and their tips settle behind his calves while the edges frame his body.

  I take slow and purposeful steps around him, a silent predator assessing its prey. Upon reaching behind him, I can see his feathers with more clarity. They glistened iridescent with multiple shades of greens and blues, bearing a keen resemblance to the downy of a male peacock. Upon instinct, I raise my hand and stroke their softness with equal gentleness. They're silk with edges of velvet under my fingertips.

  “Jack,” I whisper. His body turns to face me with leisure finesse. “They're beautiful.” My voice is full of wonder and awe.

  Jack brushes my cheeks with the back of his fingers. “They’re nothing compared to you.”

  I can’t keep myself from him any longer. I'm putty. I reach up on my tiptoes and kiss him with an intensity I didn’t know I could possess. Jack’s arms wrap around me, crushing his lips against mine.

  Jack’s obtrusive phone rings from within his back pocket. Our lips part and he pulls his phone out. I noticed his wings are concealed within his body again. Jack’s lips quirk at a devious angle as he tells me, “Alice and Eric are here.”

  Chapter 9

  “Shit,” I lament. My complexion pales with my horror-stricken face. I begin to pace, holding the tops of my shoulders with my head tucked tight against my chest. I stare at my feet before facing Jack again.

  “Ivy, it’s fine. I promise,” Jack smirks at me with his arms crossed over his bulging naked chest.

  “Why's this funny to you? I just had a lot of profound revelations about myself! I don’t feel like the same person! I don’t know who I am anymore! My life just changed in an instant! How am I supposed to act normal around them? Like nothing ever happened? Like I’m still the same person?” I can’t stop the elevation of my voice or let go of the tight hold I have on my body. It's the only thing keeping me together.

  Jack stops me in my tracks, his hands on my biceps, “Look at me, Sunshine.” I lift my face to meet his. “You're still the same person. You’ll always be you. That’ll never change. The only thing that will be different about you is your accumulation of new abilities.”

  I look to the ceiling and empty my lungs. Alice and Eric appear in the doorway, observing our vulnerable moment. I drop my hands and twist to face them. Alice came prepared for a dip in the pool, wearing her red bikini with a matching wrap around her waist and a paisley tote over her shoulder. I try to appear impassive, “Hey.”

  “H-hey,” Alice stammers, reading past my unnatural façade. Worry creases her brow, “What’s going on?” She enters the room with Eric on her heels, and I glance to Jack, hoping he has an excuse.

  I contemplate professing ignorance as Jack fields the situation with a cheeky grin, “She knows.”

  “What?” I'm flabbergasted at the smiles on Alice and Eric’s faces. My head jerks back and forth between them for an explanation. “You knew?” I'm hurt and pissed off that everyone seems to know, but me! Alice motions to walk towards me, and I put my hands up to stop her. “What the fuck, Alice!” I yell. “Why didn’t you tell me? How do you know? Who are you?”

  “I’m sorry, Ivy. We weren't allowed to tell you. If we did, we would be punished. Your fate isn't exactly known. If we told you, it could change your actions, and in result, change your fate. We were told to let it happen naturally and to keep you protected until your transformation. Only then, would we be allowed to reveal your destiny.” Alice appears truly sorry.

  Eric adds, “We really wanted to tell you, Ivy. We’re angels, like Jack. Like you are. We would never hurt you. We're still your friends. You can trust us.”

  My temper recedes, and I lower my voice, “But, neither of you has green eyes like Jack. You're not Archangels.”

  Eric shrugs his shoulders. “We're not Archs. Our contacts were necessary to hide who we are from you and avoid questions.”

  “What color are they?”

  Alice answers with hesitation, “Violet.”

  “You’re Reapers?” My anxiety begins to surface again with the raise of my voice.

  Eric clears his throat with a bowed head and gives Alice a sidelong glance. Alice steps forward. “Yes. We’re Reapers. But some of us like to be referred to as Guides. People have put horrible labels on us through the ages.”

  I take a step back as my voice strains to speak, “I don’t want to be like you. I don’t want to take people's souls. I don’t want to watch people die and take their chance to fight for their lives.”

  “It’s not like that, Ivy,” Eric assures. “We don’t kill people, we don’t take their souls, and we don’t keep them from fighting to live. It’s our job to guide the souls to their next destination after the body has died. We help them. We don’t harm them. And it’s more satisfying than you think—to be able to guide the deserving to Paradise and see them become overwhelmed with a sense of peace. And when you guide the dammed into Sheol, it’s with gratifying conviction you're relieving the world of their wickedness and delivering them to atone for their offenses.”

  My voice rises in anger, “How do you know who's deserving of Paradise and who's not? Who are you to Judge?”

  Alice answers me with softness, “We never judge. Their destinations are revealed to us in the Veil between life and death.”

  “It seems I won’t really have a choice if The Powers That Be sent you to watch over me. It appears my fate's already been determined.”

  Alice sighs. “Not exactly. We were told there would be a warrior sent to find us. We were supposed to work together to protect you, but they never showed. The night of the party, we couldn’t come because we were trying to investigate the warrior�
�s position. Jack had to leave you at the party for a little while to help us. He found out the warrior had been intercepted by demons long before you arrived in Red Meadow. They want to keep you from the influence of the Angels of Light. It’s unclear why at this point, but we’re doing everything we can to find out.”

  I remember Jack’s excuse for disappearing at the party, “I got caught up talking to some guys from out of town.”

  “Demons?”

  Alice quirks her lips tight in a grimace and nods. Jack turns me to face him, “There’s something else you should know… Trey…” My eyes widen at the name. “He's a demon.”

  “What! Don’t you think you should have warned me?” I can’t keep from yelling at them again. My head's spinning from the emotional rollercoaster.

  “I tried. And when you were with him, I was always there watching you when I could. I made him leave the night of your date. I'm sorry, but there have been legions protecting him, and I couldn't risk you leaving alone with him.

  I remember everything that happened between Trey and me. Holy… I kissed a demon. He tried to rape me! I kissed a demon in front of Jack! If I wasn’t embarrassed enough, I’m completely mortified now!

  “I need to sit down.” I stumble on weak legs to the bed and plop down. Jack and Eric come to stand before me, and Alice sits beside me, holding my hand and rubbing my back in soothing, circular strokes. They wait for me to absorb the torrent of information. “Why would there be a legion protecting Trey? Why's he important? What does he want from me?”

  “We don’t know yet, but we have reason to believe he's working for Beleth. We think Beleth was in charge of the capture of the missing warrior as well,” Jack professes.

  Great. Now I’m responsible for the kidnapping of an angel. What’s next? What do I do now? Do I keep going to class as if everything’s normal?