The Soul Destroyer Read online

  “Sounds ominous.”

  “I’m afraid it is.”

  He opened his mouth to say something else, but the waiting-room door opened. I looked up as Nathan McNamara walked inside. My nemesis. And my very best friend.

  He wore his signature olive-drab ball cap with the “Regular Guy” patch I’d given him fixed to the front. Appropriate, since he was the only human in our group.

  His goofy, lopsided grin broke on his face when he saw me. I stood as he put a couple of bags down on a nearby chair.

  “There’s my favorite Area 51 Reject,” he said, opening his arms.

  With a laugh, I stepped forward to embrace him. I clapped him on the back. “Good to see you, Nate.”

  “You too, man.”

  When I pulled back, Reuel was standing beside me.

  Nathan laughed and hugged him. “Reuel, my old friend, it’s been too long.”

  With a grunt, Reuel lifted Nathan’s feet off the ground.

  “You haven’t seen each other in what, almost a year?” I asked when Reuel put him down.

  “Ten months, I guess. Not at all since Iliana was born. Been staying busy?” Nathan asked him.

  Reuel nodded and pointed at me.

  “I know. I’m a dictator,” I said.

  Reuel smiled. “Kitak es ket alis appa.”

  He and I both looked back at Azrael.

  “Almost as bad as me?” Azrael pointed at him. “Nobody said you had to work for either of us. You volunteered, so just eat your snacks and keep your mouth shut.”

  Reuel’s shoulders shook with silent laughter.

  “Speaking of snacks…” Nathan reached for the bags he’d put down and handed one of them to Reuel. “I made a pit stop on the way here and brought you a treat.”

  Reuel pulled out a box from Southside Sweets, an Asheville bakery I was sure could have been kept in business by Nathan and Reuel alone.

  With a gleeful grin, Reuel hugged Nathan again. “Gratalis.”

  “You’re welcome.” Nathan handed me the other bag, a black gift bag with a teal-ribbon handle. “Sloan sent you this.”

  “How is she?” I asked as I accepted it.

  His smile widened. “She’s amazing. Such a great mother. You’d be really proud.”

  “I knew she would be.” I looked into the bag. “What’s this?”

  “Open it,” Nathan said, sitting in a chair across from us.

  I sat down and pulled out the tissue-paper wrapped object inside. It was a book. A photo album. And my baby girl’s face was on the cover. A lump the size of a watermelon rose in my throat. I tried to swallow it back down with a painful gulp.

  “Sloan thought you might like to have pictures that were bigger than the size of your phone’s screen.”

  I was half tempted to put the book back into the bag without looking at it, because I knew if I did look, there was a high probability of tears in front of my friends. But Reuel was already leaning over my shoulder to look, dropping sprinkles from his donut on my sleeve.

  When I opened the cover, a slip of paper floated to the floor. I picked it up and saw Sloan’s familiar sloppy cursive.

  Dear Warren,

  I hope this letter finds you well. Not a day passes that we don’t think of you. Iliana is happy and healthy, completely caught up (and then some) with the other babies her age. Can you believe she’ll be a year old soon? She’s crawling all over the place now. Nathan has it on video, so be sure to remind him to show you.

  We don’t leave the penthouse much these days, for obvious reasons. I’ll be so thankful when the Morning Star resurfaces, and we know exactly what we’re dealing with. I swear, the nervous wondering and waiting is almost worse than facing him in the flesh. Rest assured, everyone on this side of the spirit line is on high alert, as I’m sure you are as well.

  Enjoy the book. Wish you were here.

  Love always,

  Sloan

  I blinked a few times to stop the tingling at the corners of my eyes. Then I flipped to the first page of the book. Someone, probably Nathan, had drawn a handlebar mustache on Iliana’s face. Reuel and I both laughed.

  “It was chocolate sauce,” Nathan said, leaning over to look at it upside down.

  “Of course it was.” Nathan ate more junk food than any other human I’d ever known. I looked more closely at the picture. “Is that a bow?”

  “Yeah, Adrianne tapes one to her head every time we see her now. Poor kid. I don’t think she’ll ever have any real hair.”

  The next page was a photo of Iliana holding Sloan’s face. They were nose-to-nose and both laughing. My heart twisted, and a bubble of unstoppable emotion creaked out of my constricted airway. I tried—and failed—to mask it as a cough.

  Nathan caught my eye and put his hand on my shoulder. “I want to show you something.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and swiped the screen with his thumb. After a few taps, he turned it toward me.

  It was a video. I expected it to be of Iliana crawling. Instead, it was a clip taken over Nathan’s shoulder from behind. He was holding Iliana in the crook of his arm while he held a picture album in his hand. The book was open to a photo of Sloan. “Illy, who’s this?” he asked her.

  “Mama!” she chirped happily, clapping her tiny hands.

  He turned the page. “And who’s this?” It was a photo of Sloan’s dad.

  “Papa!” She looked off-camera and pointed, probably because Dr. Jordan was somewhere in the room.

  “Good girl.” Nathan turned another page. “And who is this?”

  It was a picture of me, wearing a black T-shirt and jeans, stretched across the white bed I’d shared with Sloan. It was taken a few days before Iliana was born.

  Iliana lunged forward and grabbed the book. “Appa!”

  Appa. The word for Father in Katavukai.

  I covered my mouth with my hand as a few rogue tears escaped down my cheeks.

  Nate squeezed my arm. “She knows you, brother.”

  Sniffing, I pinched the bridge of my nose, then swiped away the tears. I cleared my throat and finally looked up. “Thanks for that. Will you send it to me?”

  “You bet.”

  I tucked the photo album back into the bag. “I’ll finish looking at this later.”

  Nathan nodded. “So I’m guessing Satan hasn’t been born yet?” He was looking around like Satan might be standing behind him.

  Azrael groaned. “That’s not even funny.”

  Nathan held up his thumb and index finger an inch apart. “It’s a little funny. I got a group text from Johnny saying they were doing a C-section.”

  “Supposed to be doing it now,” I said.

  Azrael sat back and folded his arms over his chest. “You know, it’s probably a good sign that they had to rush her into surgery.”

  We all looked at him in confusion.

  “The Morning Star is an Angel of Life and of Knowledge. There shouldn’t be complications with childbirth if his spirit is present.”

  I hadn’t considered that.

  Reuel relaxed a little.

  Nathan nodded toward the door. “But we’re sure it’s an angel popping out of that uterus?”

  “It’s something,” Azrael said, staring at the ceiling.

  The look on his face was puzzling. “What’s the matter?” I asked.

  He let out a deep sigh. “I wasn’t going to say anything until I knew for certain, but I’m concerned about Adrianne as well.”

  I turned toward him in my seat. “You’re joking?”

  “Afraid not.”

  Azrael’s girlfriend, Adrianne Marx, was also pregnant. Angels could only produce one angelic offspring with a human, and Azrael had met his quota when I was born.

  “Are you telling me there’s a possibility that my wife’s very best friend on the planet might be carrying the Morning Star?” Nathan’s face was as white as the wall behind him.

  Azrael didn’t answer.

  I held out my hand. “Photograph, please.”
I could tell a lot from a picture.

  He angled to the side and pulled out his phone. “I think it’s still too early to tell. We don’t even find out until Friday if it’s a boy or a girl.”

  “When’s she due?” I asked as he passed me his cell phone.

  “Late August.”

  Reuel looked at the phone over my shoulder.

  On the screen was a mirror selfie of Adrianne in a sports bra. She was turned to the side to show off her baby bump. The picture was captioned, “Nineteen Weeks. Baby is the size of a mango!”

  Had the baby been completely human, I would sense nothing more than a general feeling of virtue—as my gift could judge the righteous souls from the wicked. Instead, a rippled haze—like heat waves off asphalt in summer—radiated around Adrianne’s bare midsection.

  I swallowed hard and handed the phone back to him. “Your suspicion is valid.”

  “Verdad,” Reuel agreed.

  Azrael froze, then his knuckles turned white around the phone before he hurled it across the room at the wall.

  My hand flew forward and stopped the phone midair before it collided with the drywall.

  Nathan gasped. Then, because he was closest, he got up and grabbed the phone where it was suspended. He shook his head as his hand closed around it. “You think I’d be used to this shit by now,” he said, bewildered. He carried the phone back to Azrael and set it down cautiously, two chairs away from him.

  “Az, when did you notice a difference?” I asked.

  His eyes were closed, and for a long time, he didn’t answer me. “Adrianne’s had severe morning sickness, all-day sickness really, since the beginning. But that passed a few weeks ago. Then I started noticing her sickness seemed to follow her visits with Sloan.”

  “You mean, her visits with Iliana,” I said.

  He nodded.

  There were physical side effects when angels in human form were together. It was the primary reason I had to leave Sloan and my daughter when she was born. My presence could warp Iliana’s developing brain.

  We’d also recently found out what Iliana could do to an angel in the womb. Whenever Fury was around her, Fury’s unborn son would kick and tumble so much, she’d experience motion sickness. And the effects became worse as the fetus and Iliana grew older. It became so bad that Fury had refused to visit Echo-5 at all in the past few months.

  “Well, shit.” Nathan stood with so much force that his chair slid backward a few inches across the tiles. “What will I tell Sloan?”

  “Nothing until we know more,” I said.

  He shook his head. “I don’t keep stuff from her, Warren. Not ever.”

  Had to respect that. Even though I rationalized it as protecting Sloan, I couldn’t say as much when she and I were together. Maybe he had learned from my mistakes.

  Just then, the sound of a slot-machine jackpot filled the room. Nathan reached for his phone. “I’d say speak of the devil, but that’s a little too heavy-handed for this group. It’s Sloan. Excuse me.”

  He walked out into the hallway, and my eyes followed him.

  “Her ringtone on his phone is a jackpot,” I said aloud to no one in particular as I stared at the door closing behind him.

  My father put his hand on my arm. “You made a good choice, Warren. The right choice.”

  I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “I know.”

  And I did.

  Still, some days were harder than others. Because while time really does heal all wounds, love never fades. It never dies. Not even with a lifetime apart. And I’d spent enough time on Earth this day for the wound of losing her to feel as fresh as the day I left.

  But I couldn’t let myself dwell on it. Fortunately, the intercom above our heads chimed. Then it played the first few bars of Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.

  “He’s here,” I said, looking up.

  Azrael’s head snapped back. “Who’s here?”

  “The baby.”

  “How the hell do you know that?”

  I tapped my temple. “Omniscience. It’s a new perk of the job since you left.”

  He scowled.

  I laughed and pointed to the sign by the door. “When you hear the nursery bells, a new little angel has been born.”

  Azrael shoved my shoulder, and I laughed harder as Nathan walked back into the room. “What’s so funny?” Nathan asked.

  “Azrael can’t take a joke. Did you hear the bells?” I pointed to the sign again for Nathan.

  He turned and read it. “Shit. I’ll bet that sign has never been so literal.”

  “I guarantee it hasn’t,” Azrael said.

  Nathan reclaimed his seat and looked at me. “Sloan sends her love to everyone.”

  My heart torqued. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice.

  The minutes ticked by slowly on the clock above the waiting-room coffee pot.

  Reuel tore open a candy bar.

  Azrael’s knee was bouncing in time with mine.

  And Nathan was chewing on his thumbnail. Finally, he broke the silence. “So when you guys see Fury’s kid, you’ll know if it’s the Morning Star?” Nathan wagged his finger between me and Reuel.

  I shifted on my chair. “No. I’ll only know if it’s an angel or human or Seramorta.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. It’s not like we’re born wearing name tags, Nate.”

  “The last time I saw you, you told me we should know soon enough which baby was the Morning Star.”

  “And compared with time in my world, that’s true. A few years on Earth is nothing.”

  Nate pointed at Azrael. “Warren, you’re becoming as bad as him with all the ambiguity and shit.”

  I smiled. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to use simpler speech you can understand.”

  “Thank you—” His mouth quickly snapped shut as he recognized the thinly veiled insult. “Glad to see immortality hasn’t cured you of being a dick.”

  We all laughed.

  The door swung open, and Nathan’s uncle and Fury’s boyfriend, Johnny McNamara, burst through the door in a set of pale-blue scrubs and a paper cap. He was red faced and sweaty with wide eyes and an even wider smile. “It’s a boy! He’s beautiful.”

  We all stood.

  Azrael stepped toward him. “How’s Fury?”

  “She’s great! They didn’t have to do the C-section. Once they doped her up, her body relaxed, allowing her cervix to dilate. He was born naturally. She’s still groggy, but they’re both perfectly fine.”

  Reuel breathed a sigh so deep with relief that it shifted our row of connected chairs.

  I got up to shake Johnny’s hand. “That’s good news. Congratulations.”

  “Yes. Congratulations,” Azrael echoed.

  Nathan hugged his uncle.

  “When can we meet him?” I asked.

  Johnny jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “The nurses took him to clean him up. They’re moving Fury to a regular room, and once she’s feeling more alert, we’ll have y’all back to see her.”

  “Excellent,” I said.

  “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back soon!” With a little skip, Johnny spun on his heel and left.

  I couldn’t help but smile.

  Nathan pointed at me and Reuel. “How long will you guys stick around near the baby?”

  I knew what he was getting at. If Fury’s child was an angel, our presence wasn’t healthy.

  “They don’t have to stay, but they do need to see the child.” Azrael’s gaze fell enough for me to notice. “I can no longer see angels.”

  “Oh yeah. Sorry Az.”

  Azrael waved his hand to dismiss it.

  I sat back down. “We won’t be here long.”

  “So will this baby be Seramorta like Sloan and Warren were? Half-angel?” Nathan asked.

  “Not unless Fury has been sleeping with an angel while she’s been with Johnny,” Azrael said.

  All eyes in the room turned toward me.

  I put my ha
nds up in defense. “What the hell? I haven’t slept with Fury!”

  Nathan cocked an eyebrow.

  “OK, I haven’t slept with Fury recently.” Fury and I had history, but it was ancient. Even more ancient for me than for her. That pinged another idea. I leaned back and folded my arms. “Did John have a paternity test done when they found out she was pregnant? He’d had a vasectomy right?”

  “Not that I know of. They assumed Sloan healed that part of him when she healed his severed jugular last year,” Nathan said.

  Sloan was formerly a half Angel of Life with the gift of healing. She’d saved Johnny’s life after almost accidentally killing him in a training exercise.

  “How does that work? Angel DNA?” Nathan asked.

  “The child’s DNA won’t match the parents’ at all. And the child will have Rh-null blood,” Azrael said.

  Nathan’s head tilted. “Could you do a blood test on Adrianne’s baby?”

  Azrael’s eyes widened. “Good thinking, Nate.”

  “Excellent idea,” I agreed.

  Smiling, Nathan leaned back and linked his hands behind his head. “Good to know my investigative skills aren’t getting too rusty.”

  “Speaking of, how are you liking the new job, Commander?” I asked with a grin.

  “Training days are fun. Shooting shit never gets old. The day-to-day is slow here lately, but I’m not complaining. I hope it stays that way.”

  Nathan was Special Operations Commander of SF-12. If his job ever got exciting, it was bad news for everyone.

  “What about you? Are you still planning to take Fury to Nulterra to find her sister?” Nathan asked me.

  “As soon as she’s ready.” I looked at Azrael. “I need to deal with Nulterra soon. The situation there is increasingly unstable.”

  “What situation?” Nathan asked.

  “Basically, Abaddon’s demise and the Morning Star’s departure left the throne of Hell without a successor,” Azrael said.

  “And now, the different players are vying for power,” I added.

  Nathan laughed. “Hold up. Like Game of Thrones?”

  My head tilted from side to side. “Sort of. Azrael, I’m afraid it will come to war if the angels don’t intervene.”

  “War in Hell sounds like it should be on HBO,” Nathan said, still smiling.