Elohim

by Leslie Swartz

  “I want to die. I don’t want to exist without him here.”

  “Shh.” She squeezed him tighter. “I know. The thing is, I need you alive. Valerie’s off with her dude most of the time. You’re my only friend. Plus, who’s gonna put Lucifer in his place if you’re gone?”

  “I feel like you can handle him on your own.”

  “Yeah, but Jesus, that’s exhausting. He’s a handful.”

  He wiped away another tear.

  “I know it sucks. I know how you feel, literally. I’m having a hard time not falling apart, myself. Would it make you feel better if I told you he’ll be back someday?”

  He sat up. “What do you mean? Isn’t he in Heaven?”

  “Fuck, no. He killed people. He’s in Purgatory. It’s like jail for souls. He’ll be there for a while, thinking about what he’s done, and eventually, he’ll be born again. I mean, as someone else, but--”

  “When?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “How can you not know?”

  “He’s there until he thinks he deserves another chance. He has to forgive himself. Could be a few years, could be a few centuries. It’s up to him.”

  Wyatt stared at his sister, his bloodshot eyes wide and frantic. “Will I see him again?”

  “Yeah. I mean, of course. Human souls are never gone, just moved. It probably won’t be for a long time, though. After Wyatt’s dead and you’re just Barachiel again.”

  “Great.” He slumped back against the couch and hung his head.

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to get your hopes up.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “He will get to Heaven. They all do, eventually. No matter how many times it takes. God doesn’t give up on people.”

  “That’s comforting.”

  “I know you’re being sarcastic, but I also know that it does make you feel a little better.”

  He sighed. “Of course you do.”

  She took out her phone. “I’m ordering food. Not just pizza this time. I’m also getting you some cake.”

  “Why?”

  “You know, sugar, chocolate. It’ll make you feel better.”

  “I don’t deserve to feel better.”

  “Well, I do and I want some cake. Also, that’s bullshit. You deserve a medal for what you did for Israel in 1967 alone.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Maybe just trust me then.”

  He grunted.

  “Hey,” she tapped his nose with her finger. “Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  “You’ll be all right. Over time.”

  He nodded but wasn’t convinced. They sat in silence, each letting the other grieve in their own way.

  Chapter 9

  Wendy beamed as she walked to her Chambers Street apartment, lunch from her favorite chicken spot in hand. She couldn’t help but smile. It had been a long time since she’d had so much fun with someone. Gabriel was funny, interesting, and to call her ‘sexy’ would have been a gross understatement. The few days they’d spent together in a Harrisburg hotel room were maybe the best in her life. They’d gotten so lost in all the sex and talking, they’d forgotten to eat. They slept only for a couple of hours at a time; naps between marathon sessions of mind-blowing lovemaking. She’d had more orgasms in the last three days than she’d had probably in her entire life. Just thinking about it got her excitable. The lightness of her touch. The smoothness of her skin. The way she looked up at her with those big brown eyes as she went down--

  A chill went through her, her thoughts interrupted by the feeling that someone was following her. She glanced around, seeing no one and quickening her pace. Someone was there. She could feel them closing in, just a few steps behind. She rushed into her building, making a beeline for the empty elevator. As the doors closed behind her, she thought she could finally relax. She was wrong.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you,” the girl claimed as she appeared. “I had to use a cloaking spell so no one would see.”

  “You’re a witch?” Wendy asked, catching her breath.

  “They call me ‘Poe’. The leather and black lipstick.” She gestured to herself and hit the emergency stop button. “You get it. The others don’t know I’m here.”

  “What others?”

  “I’m from Grace’s coven. She wanted you to have something.” The girl, no more than sixteen, held out an envelope. Wendy hesitated before taking it. “Don’t open it until you’re alone. If the others find out I gave that to you, they’ll kill me. Or worse.”

  “What is it?”

  “I can’t say.” Her eyes darted around the lift. “Not out loud, just in case. You shouldn’t, either. They have eyes and ears everywhere.” She pulled a newspaper from her jacket and handed it to her. “I marked the page. If you decide to come, use a cloaking spell. If they see you,” She shook her head. “Stay hidden.”

  “How did you find me? I’m shielded.”

  “Not from your own magic.” Poe restarted the elevator. “I was never here, okay?”

  Wendy nodded.

  The girl was again invisible and as the doors opened to the lobby, Wendy could feel her brush by, leaving her alone. She hit the button for her floor and watched with furrowed brow as the doors again closed. Her own magic. That could only mean one thing; Grace must be dead.

  She set the bag of chicken on her table and opened the paper to the page with the dog-eared corner. Obituaries. Halfway down the page, she found her great-aunt’s name. She’d died of a stroke a few days before. She was ninety-one. Her funeral was set for four o’clock that day.

  She opened the take out container and took a bite of chicken before opening the envelope. Inside was a necklace and note that read, It’s your responsibility now. She reached inside again and pulled out the cat’s eye amulet, a mournful sigh escaping her lips. It burned hot in her hand, radiating power, like the glow from a nuclear reactor. She knew instantly what Grace had done. She’d bound her magic by blood to the amulet, assuring that only a witch that shared her genes would have access to it. It was drawn to her like a magnet, undoubtedly leading Poe right to her.

  “Well, I can’t deal with this right now,” she muttered, walking to the desk in the corner of the room and opening the drawer, tossing the necklace inside and waving a hand over it. “Abscondo.” It was now hidden from everyone but her.

  She finished eating while contemplating what this all meant. Grace had stayed away, never having made contact with her. Wendy wasn’t even sure if her aunt had known she existed. Why would she leave her magic to her? It didn’t make sense. Usually, when a witch dies, their power is absorbed by her coven. To bestow her power to anyone outside of the coven would have been seen as a betrayal of the highest order. No wonder Poe had been so afraid. The others must be furious.

  Chapter 10

  “I’m moving them from Siberia as we speak,” Spade told the man on the other end of the call. “I’ll join them once I’ve made arrangements here.”

  “Will they be ready?” the caller asked.

  “Of course. They’ve been training for years. My soldiers are the best of the best.”

  “I admire your confidence, Mr. Spade, but you have no idea what you’ll be up against.”

  “We can handle anything.”

  “I hope that’s true because your opposition will be unlike any you’ve ever faced.”

  “Yes, Lilith told me,” he sighed, rolling his eyes. “They have superpowers or something. We have AK-47’s. I’m not concerned.”

  “You weren’t privy to all of Lilith’s secrets, but trust me when I tell you, she was one of the most powerful creatures to ever walk the Earth and these people took her out in a matter of minutes. Underestimate them at your peril.”

  “If you say so. I know you don’t like me questioning you, sir, but can I ask one thing?”

  “If you must.”

  “The site,” Spade wondered. “Why go to all this trouble? Why not just dron
e-bomb it? Seems so much more efficient.”

  “It’s not enough to destroy the Gate physically, you imbecile. You must also destroy the keepers of it. As long as even one of them remains on Earth, so does the tether.”

  “You know this sounds like bullshit, right?”

  “I would caution you to remember to whom you’re speaking.”

  “I can’t remember what I’ve never been told.”

  “I’m the man who signs your checks, Mr. Spade. The money Lilith paid plus everything I’ve been gracious enough to pay you since can all be taken away.”

  “Yes, sir. I understand.”

  “Good. Call me with any updates.”

  As the line went dead and Spade put the phone down, his daughter wandered in, still in her pajamas. “Aubrey!” he called to his wife, who was already rushing to the office.

  “I tried to stop her, but she wanted to see you before you left on your business trip,” she explained.

  “It’s all right,” he said, his voice calm. “Can you find my passport while I say goodbye to Jenny?”

  “Sure,” she smiled, leaving father and daughter alone.

  “What have you been up to today, Jenny-Bean?” he asked playfully. The girl sat on his knee and giggled. She was eleven with the intellect of a toddler and communication skills of an infant. She was born with a myriad of mental and physical disabilities, symptoms of her extreme DWS, some of which had been corrected with experimental and impossibly expensive surgeries and treatments. After the influx of money Spade had received by taking the job Lilith had originally offered, he’d been able to pay for all of it, in cash. At nine, Jenny finally took her first steps. Two years later, she was walking almost normally. She still hadn’t spoken, but doctors were confident that she could understand when others did. He’d hired a private tutor to teach her to read and write, but she didn’t seem to be catching on. It had been a challenge, but Spade was determined to give his daughter the best life he could, no matter the circumstances.

  “I’ll only be gone for a little while,” he promised. “A week, I think. Give your mother lots of hugs while I’m away, okay?”

  The girl smiled.

  “That’s my girl,” he said, hugging her and kissing her forehead. “That’s my good girl.”

  Chapter 11

  Lucifer stood in the center of Saint Michael’s Tower on Glastonbury Tor, admiring the craftsmanship of the stonework. It had been centuries since he’d watched it being built, and while it was all that was left of the original building, it was as beautiful as he remembered. All, that is, above ground. As much as he enjoyed a good tourist attraction, he had work to do and he couldn’t get to it with all of these people milling around. He looked to the sky through the open roof and allowed a smirk to cross his lips as clouds gathered, thunder sounded and rain poured down. The visitors scattered, covering their heads with picnic blankets and papers, running hastily down the hill. When he was sure everyone was out of harm’s way, he walked out onto the grass, hoping his memory was correct about the exact spot. He knelt down and placed a hand on the wet ground, causing it to tremble beneath him. As the quake grew in power, the earth opened before him, a wide chasm splitting the clay and shale. He peered down, relieved to see what he’d been after. He stood and jumped in, falling nearly two hundred feet before landing on the stone sarcophagus below. He stepped off and looked it over, noticing how lovely the engravings still were. He tossed the lid off, revealing the ancient skeleton inside, well preserved in the hill’s cool conditions. “Hello, Arthur,” he said, moving a dragon-embossed banner aside to uncover the corpse’s hands, still clutching the Celtic long sword. “Sorry about desecrating your grave, but that’s what happens when you’re buried with things that don’t belong to you.” He tore the sword by the horn hilt from the body’s grip, almost taking the hand with it. “Do say ‘hello’ to your sister for me.” He winked, leaping up out of the rift. He waved a hand to close the schism as the skies cleared before taking off, flying back to Gabriel’s apartment for some much-needed rest, Uriel’s sword in hand.

  Chapter 12

  “It has been a day,” Valerie griped, plopping herself down on the sofa after a particularly stressful day at work.

  “What happened?” Malik asked from the kitchen several feet away.

  “Parents whining, mostly. ‘Why can’t Austin get into Columbia?’ ‘Why does Xander want to go to film school instead of med school?’ It’s a lot of ‘Why isn’t my kid a totally different person than he is’ bullshit. And I got a visit from the PTA lady, bitching about the safe-sex brochures in my office. Like, sorry, Brenda, but this is high school in Hell’s Kitchen, not a fifties sitcom.”

  Malik chuckled. “Did you say that?”

  “No, I put on my fake-polite voice and told her the statistics and how it’s the school’s policy to prepare kids, blah, blah blah. I still think she left madder than when she came in.”

  “That place doesn’t deserve you.”

  “Probably not, but the kids need me.”

  “Speaking of kids, the adoption agency called today.”

  She sat up straight, her chest tightening. “What’d they say?”

  He came out from behind the bar and sat next to her, taking her hand in his. “We got approved.”

  She covered her mouth as she gasped. “So fast? I thought it’d be--”

  “Approved, but the wait list is long. She said it could be up to seven years before we get a baby.”

  “Seven years?”

  “I know you’re disappointed, but we’ve been approved. A lot of people don’t even make it that far.”

  She nodded and he kissed her hand before heading back to the kitchen, the dinner he was preparing almost ready. He was right. She was disappointed, but part of her was relieved. While she desperately longed for a family, a life she could call ‘normal’, she had always suspected ‘normal’ wasn’t really in the cards for her. Angel business aside, the way she’d grown up had her questioning her abilities as a parent. She had no example of what a good mother looked like. Her grandmother was the closest thing, but by the time she’d met her, she was almost grown and left pretty much to her own devices. If she was being honest with herself, Gabriel had been the most motherly influence in her life. She was always there for her, taking care of her when she needed it, protecting her. She knew her sister worried and cared about her. She loved her. But if Gabriel was what Valerie thought a mother was, she was definitely not ready for the responsibility.

  “Hey, are you sure--” But before she could finish her sentence, a knock came on the door.

  “I’ll get it,” she offered, standing up. “You just keep cooking. Something smells delicious and I’m starving.”

  “Hello, sister,” Lucifer greeted as she opened the door. “How are you this evening? You look tired.”

  “What do you want? Is Wyatt all right?”

  “As far as I know. Gabriel’s with him presently. I came to return something to you.” He held the sword out to her by it’s hilt.

  “What the fuck?” she muttered, pulling him inside and closing the door, hoping her neighbors didn’t see this white boy strolling through the hall with the weapon.

  “It’s your sword,” he explained. “Well, one of them. The only other left on Earth is in an abbey in Tuscany, so in the name of discretion--”

  “Why are you bringing me this?”

  “There’s a battle coming. The world needs Uriel at full power. Pocket knives and kitchen utensils are quaint, but relatively useless against an army of paid mercenaries. Speaking of kitchen tools, how are you, Malik?”

  Malik grunted from the kitchen as he worked.

  Valerie took the sword, the weight of it surprising her. “I don’t know how to use this.”

  “Of course you do, you’ve just forgotten. Simply do for yourself what you’ve done for Barachiel. Search your mind for the memories, and do make it snappy. There’s not much time.”

  “Take this to your brother,”
Malik said, shoving a plastic container into Lucifer’s hands. “Chicken, risotto and broccoli rabe. Val told me he’s been living on pizza and whiskey. No doubt he could use a home-cooked meal.”

  “Well, thank you, Malik. That’s very thoughtful. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the gesture.”

  “Why is it that even when you’re being nice, you sound condescending?”

  “It’s a mystery.”

  “Bye, Lucifer,” Valerie said, opening the door and pushing him out. She looked over the sword in her hands, a strange sense of nostalgia washing over her.

  “Battle?” Malik asked.

  “Looks like I need to have a talk with my sister.”

  Chapter 13

  “A gift from Uriel’s husband,” Lucifer said, setting the container on the counter. “Uriel’s husband. I don’t believe I’ll ever get used to that.”

  Gabriel inspected the contents of the lidded bowl before pushing it away in disgust.

  “It’s not for you,” he reassured her.

  “I know, but still.”

  “How is he?”

  “A little better. He’s in there taking a shower without breaking anything, so, you know…progress.”

  “Something’s different,” Lucifer noticed, glancing around. “Did you clean?”

  “Did I what? No, I hired a maid service. Did I clean?” she scoffed. “Like I have time for that.”

  “A sword?” Valerie called as she entered Wyatt’s apartment. “Really, bitch?”

  “I got you a back-scabbard, too,” Gabriel replied. “Lugging that thing around by hand would be--”

  “The fuck’s goin’ on?”

  “Keep your voice down,” Gabriel ordered. “I don’t want to bother B with this until I have to.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “Meh.”