by S.B. Rodgers
Gabe tilted his head a bit “Didn’t what?”
“You know…” she averted her eyes.
Gabe realized what she was asking, turning a bit pink. “Oh, no! No, nothing like that!” They both laughed, Abby more in relief than anything. After the laughter died down they sat in silence for a few minutes, awkwardly avoiding each other’s gaze.
Gabe opened his mouth to say something, anything to break the silence when Abby suddenly spoke “Gabe, I’m…sorry. About before, at school. I thought you were going to hurt me…”
“Why would you think that?” Gabe asked.
“Well, it’s just…it wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Abby, what—no, who are you talking about?” he had a pretty good idea who she was referring to though. He could only think of one person who would chew her up and spit her out like that.
She just shook her head, dismissing it. “No, it’s ok. Just forget about it…well, anyways, umm…thanks for saving my life.” She smiled at him shyly, a smile that he felt grip his heart.
Unable to help himself, he leaned in, wrapping his arms around her. He hugged her tightly, pressing her against his broad, warm chest. He could feel her heartbeat rise and her face growing hot, but he still held her there. “Any time,” he whispered, knowing that the feeling in his heart was a different kind of love for her than he ought to have as her Guardian. At that moment, he didn’t care. At that moment, she was the only thing that mattered. “Any time.”
Chapter 36
Mammon sprawled on the rough-hewn wooden double bed, staring out the window of the tiny, one-room log cabin. Siberia was a good place, he thought; well, as good a place as any. There weren’t many humans here, at least, and the ones that were hadn’t put up much of a fight. His gaze traveled to the twin trails of blood that smeared from the ill-fitting door to the shed by the forest, the snow stained a dark, purplish red. His lips twitched upwards; at least the old couple had provided a little stress relief for his dogs.
As to why he was in Siberia in the first place…his mood darkened as he brooded over the situation for the umpteenth time. Sensing his bad mood the dogs milled about, amusing themselves as they awaited further orders. Fenris had found a can of baked beans in one of the hand-carved cabinets and had pried it open with great determination, skill, and not a small amount of luck. He munched away happily on the cold, sticky mess, tipping the can over his mouth instead of using a utensil.
As he ate, he flipped through an old photo album that had belonged to the owners of the cabin. He looked at each yellowed photograph carefully, taking in the nuances of the pictures and staring at the faces, mesmerized. He reached out to stroke a finger over the treated paper. “Pretty.” He said softly, ripping the page out of the album and folding it carefully before placing it in his breast pocket, next to several feathers and other odds and ends.
Freja was ignoring her brother entirely; the cold vegetable matter didn’t interest her, nor did the funny paper he was so taken with. She sat in front of the bed, staring unflinchingly up at her master. She could sense the disturbance in his heart, and wanted to comfort him. Crawling silently onto the bed, she tried to nuzzle against his chest, to share her warmth with him and soothe his ire.
Mammon’s face twisted in anger and he pushed her away roughly, sending her crashing to the floor. She looked up at him in dismay, scuttling backwards quickly as his foot lashed out at her once, twice.
“Leave me!” Mammon shouted, not wanting her contact. He watched her skulk away, passing by Fenris who snorted in laughter at his sister’s failure. She bared her teeth at him, growled low in her throat to shut him up. It worked, and he averted his eyes back to his book as Freja went to stand guard by the door.
Mammon knew why they had to be in Siberia; it was remote, and it was quiet. And hard to get to. If it weren’t for his teleportation ability, the trip up into the mountains might have very well killed them. And hopefully would kill anyone that came looking for them. He was in trouble now, real trouble, and he knew it. He had failed his mission and alerted the archangel to it at the same time. The mission was definitely over.
If Lucifer didn’t get him, the Archangel Michael very well might. Actually, he thought, the angels catching him would probably be better than Lucifer. At least the angels wouldn’t literally tear him limbs from limb. And even if they did, Lucifer would find a way to make it more painful; of that, he was certain.
Without warning the cabin door burst open, a howling, icy wind pushing it from the outside. Jumping off the bed, Mammon stared in shock. A tingle of fear-an emotion he had banished long ago-coursed through him. The hair on the back of his neck prickled as the figure in the doorway stepped forward, a floor-length white fur cloak with its hood pulled up obscuring face and form.
The power radiating from the figure was palpable; he quickly shouted orders for his dogs to attack. He stared at Freja and Fenris, both standing rooted to the spot. Freja spoke slowly, lips trembling as if she were battling some immense, invisible force. “Can’t…move…” Fenris merely whined loudly, struggled sluggishly against what bound him. Mammon glared at the white-clad figure.
“Fine, then. I can deal with you myself.” He breathed in, summoning the power within him, and felt…nothing. He shuddered, tried again. Again, nothing happened. He began to panic in earnest. He was cut off from his power, and his dogs were bound completely. “What do you want from me?” Mammon spat.
“Now now,” a soft voice spoke from under the flowing white hood “It’s more what do you want from me? My dear Hunter.” An elegant hand appeared from the recesses of the cloak and snaked up, pulling the hood down to settle around her shoulders. The red tresses that spilled forth, the green eyes and pale, nearly white skin; there was no mistaking it. Satan, the queen of Hell, stood in front of him. Reflexively he bowed low, hiding his confused expression. I didn’t know Lucifer let her out, he thought in amazement.
Satan’s lips curved into a crooked but beautiful smile “There are many things you do not know, Hunter.” Mammon stared at her, even more shocked than before. This was becoming interesting, he thought as he sized up the small woman in front of him.
“Shall we get down to business?” Satan said, wandering leisurely over to the bed and seating herself on the edge of it. She patted the place beside her, motioning for him to join her. Reluctantly complying, he walked over, sitting down cautiously. “I have a…proposition for you, Mammon. I’d like your cooperation, and I’m ready to offer you my protection in your time of need.”
Mammon looked at her sharply “How did you kn—“
“Word travels fast in Hell. And I have ears in low places. Before you ask, no, my husband doesn’t know yet. Yet being the keyword here. We must work fast if my plan is to succeed.”
“And what plan might that be, my lady?” Mammon asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
“Well, I seem to have lost my Thief in a rather…complicated matter. I have need of a new one…a better one. One that I know can be trusted to carry out the task without becoming tangled up in it. I think you would be perfect for the job.” Her eyes narrowed. “I offer you the chance of redemption, and my protection from the forces of Heaven and Hell. All you have to do is follow my orders, no questions asked. Are we in agreement?”
Mammon hesitated, thinking it through quickly. He nodded, uttering the simple word that would bind them to one another. “Agreed.” Between being the queen’s dog and death, he chose life. And besides, this was proving to be very interesting indeed.
Chapter 37
“AIDEN!!!” she yelled, her angry voice echoing through the massive entrance hall. Her eyes darted about, scoping out the room. Her warrior instincts wouldn’t allow her to do any less, identifying exits and potential danger zones.
Aiden appeared at the top of the stairs, dressed in wrinkled old clothes that were spattered liberally with pink paint, his blond hair covered with a bandana. He looked at her with a mixture of sur
prise and delight on his face, ripped the bandana off and flung himself down the stairs, his feet barely touching the steps. “Farrah!” He stopped in front of her, eyes shining. “My love, I didn’t know you were coming! What a wonderful surpri—“
“Shut up!” Farrah shouted as she glared up at her husband. “Why didn’t you tell me Fern was attacked?” her voice seethed with anger and she drove her finger into his chest, hard, for emphasis.
“Darling, I—“
“Mom?” Fern peered around the french doors that lead to the sunny living room. “Mom!” She grinned, rushing up and wrapping her arms around her mother.
Farrah reached down, cupping Fern's chin in her hand “Let me look at you, are you okay?”
“Mom, I’m fine. Don’t be mad at dad, I just didn’t want you to worry.”
Farrah rolled her eyes “You honestly thought I wouldn’t find out? And of course I’m worried! You’re my favourite daughter!”
“I’m your only daughter.” Fern laughed, pulling away from her mother. They shared the same golden, wavy hair, though Farrah was taller, almost as tall as Aiden, with a strong, athletic build. It came with the job; becoming a top-class Warrior would have been impossible if she was out of shape. Farrah’s facial structure was also the complete opposite of her daughter’s; where Fern was cute, Farrah was glamorous, with angular features complimented by her high cheekbones and large, slightly slanted grey eyes.
Those eyes snapped to the door Fern had come through; she had seen something move through the glass. A young man she had never seen before came into the room, standing beside her daughter as if he belonged there. She regarded him coolly, deciding that he must be Aiden’s protégé. “Can I help you with your bags, ma’am?” He asked politely, a nervous smile on his face.
She stared at him for a few seconds, taking in his uncommonly light eyes. “Thank you, that would be lovely.” She said. The boy darted around her, faster than she had anticipated. “Hang on, I didn’t catch your name.”
Fern answered for him “Elijah, mom. His name is Elijah.”
Farrah turned to him. “Then Elijah, you can bring the bags to Aiden’s room.”
Aiden’s face broke out into a huge, hopeful grin “Really?!”
“I’m mad at you, but I’m not that mad at you.”
Aiden looped an arm around her waist, drawing her close. “Wonderful.” He purred, snuggling into her side.
She looked up at his content smile in annoyance. “I said I was mad at you.”
“Oh, alright…” he muttered reluctantly, withdrawing slowly. “I’ll help Eli with the bags.” He said, shuffling out the door into the afternoon light. Farrah shook her head again, watching as her husband left the house.
Turning her attention back to Fern, she smiled lovingly at her. Fern was her most prized possession, her absolute favourite thing. Her daughter was perfect in her eyes, despite her overly dramatic father. And Farrah would do anything in her power to protect her child. “So why are you here, Fern? Weren’t you stationed in France?”
Fern pulled a face. “Well, I was, before that demon attacked us…After that, we sort of went AWOL for a while looking for dad. And then after the attack on Fong yesterday, Michael sort of…sent word that I was to stay here and join dad’s unit?” She glanced away from Farrah’s sharp gaze.
Farrah huffed in exasperation; it was most likely Aiden pulling favours to keep their daughter close-by. She couldn’t blame him, after all that Fern had been through. Still, she wished that she had been told right away, instead of being informed in passing by a Messenger with a loose grip on the definition of “need-to-know” protocol.
“Well, the important thing is that you’re safe,” Farrah said, reaching out and ruffling Fern’s hair affectionately. “Just let me know next time, okay? I don’t want you running to your father for help too often; that man still can’t figure out how to boil water without burning it.”
* * *
“AIDEN!!!” The deep, warm baritone reverberated off the walls of the foyer, causing its owner’s companion to wince a little at the noise.
“Was shouting really necessary, Gabriel?” her high, feminine voice asked. “Sorry about that, Serena.” The tall man said, smiling apologetically down at the short, pretty woman on his arm. They heard the sound of running feet overhead, gradually coming closer.
Fern appeared first at the top of the stairs. “GRANDPA!!” she shouted, rushing headlong down the stairs and flinging herself into his open arms.
“Hello, Ferny,” he laughed, picking her up and spinning her around. He set her down gently and looked up to see his daughter descending the stairs in a much more composed fashion.
Farrah tilted her head to the right, looking at her parents questioningly “Daddy, Mom, what are you doing here?”
“Can’t a man visit his kids once in a while?” Gabriel said with a laugh, hugging her to him. “Now,” he said, his hands on her shoulders and a more serious look on his face. “where is your brother? Where’s Junior?”
Farrah wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Don’t call him ‘Junior’, Daddy. He hates that—call him Gabe like everyone else.”
Gabriel Sr. opened his mouth to retort when Aiden entered the room from a side-entrance, wearing a fairly dirty, formerly white apron over his otherwise neat clothing. His eyes met Gabriel’s steely gaze and Aiden broke into a welcoming smile full of genuine affection. “Gabriel? What a surprise! It’s been such a long time, when was it…”
“Oh, you remember, old friend. It was the day you married my little girl.”
Aiden looked away, his ears turning red with embarrassment. “Ah, yes…we didn’t leave off on the best note, I suppose…” Gabriel glared at him. What Aiden had failed to mention was his secret courtship and engagement to the much younger than himself Farrah, the apple of her father’s eye.
Serena laughed nervously beside Gabriel “Well, it was just such an exciting day, and we were all so…emotional…some of us may have said things we didn’t mean.” She looked pointedly up at her husband.
Farrah nodded emphatically “Aiden, we all know that Daddy didn’t mean it when he said he’d obliterate you. He wouldn’t do something like that.”
Gabriel made a noncommittal sound, looking past his granddaughter at the young man he hadn’t noticed enter the room. “And who is this, Fern?” he asked, nodding at him.
Aiden fielded the question “Oh, that’s Fern’s boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend?!” Gabriel exclaimed in shock.
Fern smiled awkwardly as Elijah futilely tried to hide behind her. “Actually, it’s more like fiancé?”
The adults in the room stared at them in mingled horror and amazement as Eli cringed behind Fern. “WHAT?!”
“Surprise?” Fern shrugged uncomfortably.
She was saved from further questioning by Gabe’s sudden appearance on the landing at the top of the stairs. “What’s going on down there?” he called as he headed over to the railing. “Farrah? What are you all doing here?!”
Gabriel Sr. looked up at his son. “Hello, Jun—Gabe.”
Gabe’s eyes widened and he hurried down the staircase. He greeted his mother with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, then turned to his father, saluting him smartly “Sir.”
Gabriel Sr. nodded stiffly. “You’re looking well, son.”
“Gabe?” a quiet, hesitant voice called down from the landing.
“Yes?” The two Gabriels answered in unison, all eyes turning to the teenaged girl standing at the top of the stairs.
“I believe she was talking to me, Sir.” Gabe said, looking up at her.
“What’s going on? I heard shouting…”
“Come down here, Abby. There’s some people I think you should meet.” Abby descended the stairs carefully, as if she didn’t quite trust her legs to support her. Gabe walked up the bottom few steps and met her, taking her arm gallantly. Escorting her to the small group of people, he introduced her. “Abiga
il Shepard, I’d like you to meet my parents, Gabriel and Serena Ward. And this is my sister, Farrah. She’s Fern’s mum and Aiden’s wife.”
Abby looked at Gabe’s family with a mixture of shock and apprehension—she didn’t have much experience with families, certainly not ones this big and full of beautiful people. “N-nice to meet you all,” she squeaked.
“Oh, come here!” Serena laughed, stepping forward and pulling the girl into a warm embrace. “No need to be frightened, dear. You’re among friends.” She said, her voice light and soft. Abby relaxed a little; these people, no matter what else they were, were Gabe’s family. And that made them alright in her books.
* * *
Abby had gone to bed early, still exhausted from her crazy experience the day before. Serena couldn’t blame the poor girl; it had to have been overwhelming, being kicked out of her home like that. The angels were all gathered in the kitchen, sitting around the large chef’s table.
Gabe and Aiden had done a good job on catching them up on what had happened, sparing no details, no matter how trivial they might seem. Serena glanced at her husband, knowing that behind his composed exterior the wheels in his head were turning quickly, putting the pieces of the puzzle together. Farrah was mulling things over as well, so focused on what she was thinking that she didn’t seem to notice Aiden leaning into her heavily, a content smile on his face.
Serena opened her mouth to speak, her feminine voice and small stature managing to be surprisingly authoritative. “All of this information is good, but we’re still missing something here. I don’t know what it is, but something more than us is going on. It’s no accident we’re here tonight. All of us, on earth, gathered in one place? I don’t believe in coincidences this significant. There is a lot of protective power in this room,” she looked from her husband, the Archangel, to her daughter the master-class Warrior, her view roving the faces gathered around the table. “and it appears this girl, whatever she actually is, will need every one of us before this is over.” Her eyes came to rest on her son, who nodded his agreement. Whatever the girl was, she was obviously important in more ways than one.
