Earth Angel (Angels and Seers: Book One) Read online

Chapter 11

  “We aren’t going to have much time to pull this off, so let’s just do it,” I say, grabbing Sam’s hand. “If we over-think it, we may mess it up, and we can’t afford to let that blade get away.”

  “I don’t like it,” Sam insists, the butcher knife held stubbornly upright in his hand. He stands on one side of my kitchen island counter, while I face off with him on the other.

  “I know, I know. But you agreed to this. Reluctantly, yes, but you did agree. You don’t have a better way to get the blade, so we do it my way.”

  “I could just leave and draw him to me elsewhere, away from you.”

  “And probably get killed and leave the Earth and the whole universe open to destruction, slavery, and oppression? I don’t think so. Right now, you’re the only thing standing between the universe we know and something unspeakable. We have to defeat Jonathan together. Neither one of us can do it alone. The archangels said so. If you get yourself killed, Jonathan wins.”

  “Another angel could step in as leader in my place.”

  “That’s not what was prophesied. It has to be you and me. Don’t be stubborn. Do you want to have the enslavement of the universe, and maybe the multiverse, on your conscience?”

  Sam is quiet for a moment. He looks at the knife in his hand as if it were a snake.

  “No,” he sighs at last, resignedly. “No, I don’t.”

  “And you’ve got no better ideas on how to do this that don’t involve getting yourself needlessly killed?”

  “No, I don’t,” Sam grumbles through gritted teeth, obviously annoyed with himself with what he sees as his own lack of creativity on the matter.

  “Then cut your hand and let’s get moving!”

  Sam looks down at his hand and starts to move the knife toward it, then stops. I roll my eyes in exasperation. This is like pulling teeth!

  “What now?” I ask, unable to keep a hint of whining out of my voice. I put my head down on the kitchen counter and cover it with both of my arms, sighing loudly.

  “You’re sure you can shift dimensions quickly, and at will?”

  “Yes, Sam,” I firmly assure him. “We practiced it to perfection. Then discussed it at length, some more.”

  We’re running out of time to put this plan into action, and his stalling is starting to get on my nerves. I know he’s not afraid for himself; it’s all for me. But I’m perfectly capable of doing this. It’s an easy enough plan. And as for the shifting, all that takes is a little concentration. Once you learn, you wonder how you ever managed to be so blind to such an innate and natural thing. I can pop out of the kitchen and into the living room in an instant, using a simple dimensional corridor as my travel route. Getting into my mansion is just as easy. The only thing that isn’t easy is getting Sam to cut himself before Jonathan makes his way up from Luther’s body in the basement and does it for him.

  Sam looks me up and down intensely, as if memorizing every detail of my appearance, then nods. “Okay, then.”

  Thank God! Finally! In one swift motion, he slashes a shallow gash in the palm of his hand, forms a fist, and squeezes out a few drops of his glittery angel blood onto the counter.

  He raises his head and looks me meaningfully in the eyes. “Be careful.”

  Then, he is gone, hopefully to the mansion, as we agreed.

  I don’t have much time. Jonathan will be here in an instant now. Sam’s fresh blood on the counter is calling loudly to its counterpart on the blade. I already see the tiny red drops reaching upward of their own accord, trying to find their host, sensing he’s nearby, just a dimension away. That reaching is sending out a signal Jonathan can’t ignore.

  I crawl into the empty storage space under the kitchen island, conveniently cleaned out by Sam and me the night before. Then, I shut the door, and wait.

  I don’t have to wait long, just as I suspected.

  Within moments, I hear them. Three angels are in my kitchen. They must have materialized directly there. One of them has to be Jonathan. I suspect the other two are probably his infamous top henchmen, Jasper and Daniel. The three most dangerous angels in creation are mere inches from me, but they don’t know it. They sensed my energy signature when they were here before, but only as a resident. As far as they know, I had no idea Sam was ever there. That means I’m not on their radar as a threat, and am therefore, safe for the moment. I have to use that to my advantage while I still can, because they’ll learn who I am soon enough, and my energy signature will be well known to them. This is my only opportunity to have the element of surprise.

  “He’s got to be here somewhere,” a booming, angry voice that can only be Jonathan insists. “That blood is fresh. He’s probably still recovering from his injuries and hiding in here somewhere. Find him.”

  Immediately, three sets of footsteps go off in different directions.

  I only wait a second or two, since I know these angels will case my entire apartment in short order. I only hope everyone is facing away from the kitchen. If not, I’ll have to make a hasty escape to rendezvous with Sam, empty-handed.

  Surprisingly, I’m not at all nervous about being caught. I’m only concerned about failing to get the blade. If I can’t nab it, everything we do from here on out will be so much more difficult, as Jonathan will have an easy way of locating us wherever we go in this universe…and we can’t hide out in another dimension forever if we want to actually win the war.

  I have to get the blade.

  Slowly, I push the kitchen island door open just a crack and peek through it, looking from side to side for any sign of angels. I don’t see anyone, which means they’re not in the kitchen or living room. Good. Time to make a move. Like unfolding a map, I stretch the rest of my body out to its full length, out of the storage space, and into the kitchen.

  Jonathan and his cronies may not be in my line of sight, but they are still in my apartment. I sense it. It’s like that feeling you get when you don’t see anyone else around, but you know you’re not alone. Eerie.

  Quickly, I stand up and check the counter, praying the blade is there. It isn’t.

  Damn it!

  Okay, this complicates things, but we planned for this. Sam and I both knew it was a long shot that Jonathan would put the blade down to collect the fresh blood, much less leave it unattended while he searched the apartment for Sam. So, that’s Plan A shot. On to Plan B.

  I promised Sam if there was no easy grab for the blade, I’d shift out of there ASAP. Live to fight another day. We could always come up with another plan, he said.

  But what if we can’t? We would always be on Jonathan’s radar, and anyone who got near us would be in danger. I can’t allow that to happen. Getting the blade has to be our first victory.

  I swiftly grab a paper towel and soak up the blood so I can return it to Sam. The last thing we need is Jonathan using the new blood from Sam’s hand as extra locating power for his blade. I stuff the blood-soaked tissue in my jeans pocket, then carefully press myself against the wall by the corner that turns down the hallway. Tilting my head as slightly as possible, I peer down there to see what’s going on.

  No sign of angels. I hear them, though. They’re in the bedrooms.

  There’s really no question of what I must do. I have a chance to grab the blade right now and I can’t let that chance go. We’re not likely to get an opportunity like this again.

  “Sorry, Sam,” I whisper out lout to myself, barely making a sound, so no one will hear me except me.

  I’ve never been interested in fighting. As a kid, I only played peaceful, whimsical games. Even things like paintball and Laser tag bored me. The very idea of the military and wars horrified me; from the time I was in high school, I thought we should be more enlightened as a society than to be engaging in warfare with one another. That’s why I spent time in the Peace Corps. I was all about peace and love and using non-violence to solve problems. I still am, in spite of my current circumstances. And I’ve definitely never been the sneak
y or even particularly strong or brave type. Just look at how I fell apart for months over what happened to Harry. Strong people don’t do that, at least not for that long. Everything about what I am about to do is completely unlike me in every way.

  But I’m going to do it anyway.

  I never knew until now what powers the protective instinct could bestow on you. As long as Jonathan has the blade, Sam is in danger. I can’t let that continue. Sam must be protected. I have to make sure he is safe. It’s not just because he’s my friend and partner. It’s almost a primal urge, and it pushes at my vision, narrowing it to one singular intention.

  In a moment, I see two male angels moving swiftly back and forth between the rooms down the hall. Having never seen Jonathan, I’m not sure if he is one of them, or if he is elsewhere in the apartment. They are moving too quickly for me to see if either of them is carrying a blade or wearing one in a hilt around their waist. I don’t take my eyes off of them, though. My target will reveal himself soon enough, and I must be ready to act.

  Finally, one of them stops in the middle of the hall and calls out.

  “I don’t think he’s here, sir!”

  I slam myself back against the wall, then run to the far end of the kitchen island, crouching down behind it. That angel was calling in my general direction, which means Jonathan is too close to me, without me knowing his location. Not good.

  I peek around the edge of the island just in time to see an exceptionally tall, broad shouldered, incredibly muscular Earth Angel with black hair and a deep scar on his right cheek materialize in my living room, in front of the front door. At his waist is a ceremonial two-toned golden rope, which I’ve never seen any other angel wear. Is it a sign of leadership? Tied to the rope is a leather hilt, and in that hilt is the shiny black handle of what has to be the starstone blade.

  Jonathan!

  “He can’t have gone far,” Jonathan shouts, not even bothering to look at his minions. Instead, he wanders off into my living room, exploring. His eyes are very keen and sharp, and he is obviously taking in everything he sees with an appraising eye, looking for potential clues in even the tiniest thing. “The blood is too fresh. I knew he was here the other night. I wonder if the human who lives here has any idea they’ve been hosting a house guest.”

  Oh, buddy, you have no idea.

  “What are your orders, sir?” one of the angels down the hall calls.

  “Check the rest of the building and the other buildings and public areas outside for the next few blocks around this place. If you find him, bring him to me. I will wait here in case he comes back. He’s obviously using this place as a hideout. It’s probable he’ll return when he thinks we’ve given up looking for him which is probably what he did yesterday. Either way, he’s not getting away this time.”

  “Yes, sir,” the second angel says.

  “Oh, and Daniel? Jasper? Don’t be too long. We need to wrap this up. This standoff with Sam has gone on for far too long. We have other things that need attending to once we get him out of the way. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir,” the first angel says. Then there is silence, so I assume they are both gone. Daniel and Jasper. So it was them. Well, now I know what they sound like, and what Jonathan looks like. That’s helpful….really, really helpful. One should always know their enemy. It’s not like I’ve been trained in war. It just makes good sense.

  Jonathan turns to the mantle on the fireplace as soon as his officers are gone. Idly, he runs his fingers across the framed family photographs and silk flowers in colorful china vases I keep up there. It’s interesting, watching him touch my things without knowing who they belong to. If he only knew the owner was prophesied by the archangels to be one of the two who could defeat him, he would probably be smashing everything in sight.

  He is paying extra special attention to my photos, as if trying to figure out why Sam would choose to hide here with me. He is spending so much time with his back to me, in fact, that I can’t believe my luck. Can it really be this easy?

  I’m about to find out.

  Quickly, I dash into the living room and hide behind the couch. I don’t know how long I have before Daniel and Jasper come back, so I have to hurry. Peering up above the top of the couch, I see Jonathan turn toward the TV. Wedding photos of my parents and grandparents are on top of it. Again, his back is to me. I can see the hilt of the blade sticking out past his waist, an easy grab if I can get close enough.

  He is only a few feet away. I’ve got to try.

  With a sleekness of movement and stealth I had no idea I possessed, I slide around the side of the couch and slink silently up behind Jonathan. I’m close enough I can see the weave in his linen tunic.

  Using a steady hand that totally belies my level of freaked out-ness, I make a grab for the hilt. To my surprise, I actually get my hand on it.

  I should have been just a second faster.

  “Sir, the blade!” the now familiar voice of the second angel, who I take to be Daniel, cries out behind me.

  Crap!

  In an instant, I pull the blade from its hilt, capturing it just as Jonathan turns to face me.

  His expression is a mixture of both utter disbelief and extreme wrath.

  Well, he’s seen me now, and picked up my unique energy signature. And my direct eye contact with him tells him I’m a seer, even if my energy signature didn’t, which it does. There’s no going back. I am part of this war for sure. To my surprise, I’m perfectly okay with it. In fact, it feels a lot like it was always meant to be my mission, at least for this life. I’ve never felt anything that “fits” quite so well, and it feels good.

  As if in slow motion, Jonathan moves toward me as Daniel and Jasper come from behind. In the split second before they reach me, I say the only thing that comes to my mind.

  “Score!”

  I open my eyes wide and smile the unique smile that only comes with victory over the bad guy, shoving the blade into the waist of my jeans as Jonathan reaches for it. Unfortunately, there isn’t a chance to stab him with it, since Jasper and Daniel are close enough behind me they could easily grab me before my arm fully deployed. Instead, I do the smart thing. I shift out to where they can’t find me, and where Sam, presumably, is waiting.

  I won the battle! But the war is just beginning.