The Soul Destroyer Page 7

Halfway up the steps, Samael grabbed my arm to stop me. He pointed, and I followed the direction of his finger. On the left side, near the base of a column, Sofia sat alone. She was still surrounded by the shimmering purple haze.

  I turned toward Reuel and Ionis and pointed to Sofia. “There’s the magic if you want to see it for yourself.”

  Ionis stretched on his toes to look over the heads around us. Reuel looked too.

  “Got any ideas what it could be?”

  “The purple sparkles?” Ionis asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Looks like something from an acid trip,” he said.

  I rolled my eyes. “You really are no help. Reuel?”

  He just shrugged and shook his head.

  I started in her direction. “Come with me.”

  We crossed the staircase through a maze of souls. Sofia’s knees were pulled up to her chest when we reached her.

  I knelt down at her feet. “Hello, Sofia. Remember me?” I asked gently in Katavukai. Much like when Ionis spoke on Earth, all spirits, no matter their native language, understood Katavukai once they were released from their earthly bodies.

  She was no longer shaking, but her face still glistened with tears, something unusual for such a jubilant site.

  Pain, sickness, the sting of death…all those things were left behind as souls crossed over. But the more violent the death, the harder it was for the effects to be burned away by the spirit line.

  For her to still be upset, the death must have been horrific—so horrific it had aftershocks in the afterlife.

  “Warren. You helped me.” She answered in Italian, and even though I didn’t speak the language, because she was a spirit, I understood her too.

  “Sofia, do you know where you are?”

  She looked around. “Heaven?”

  “That’s right. You have nothing to be afraid of here.” I dried the tears on her cheeks and she didn’t flinch.

  One of the nicest things about the afterlife was no one feared me. On Earth, I’d gotten used to people going out of their way to avoid me; it was like I was born with a force field. I would later learn they weren’t actually afraid of me, only afraid of what they could sense inside me.

  Here, death was a thing of the past. And like most fears, once they’re faced, they lose their sting.

  She sniffed and wiped her nose on the back of her hand. “I’m not afraid. I’m not sad either.” She covered her face. “I’m not sure what’s wrong with me. Maybe I miss my mother and my sister, Gianna.”

  Samael crouched beside me. “Nothing’s wrong with you. Do you see what’s happening around us?” He gestured toward the masses hugging and laughing on the steps. “These are families just like yours. You’ll see your mother and Gianna again.”

  I put my hand on hers. “Sofia, what’s the last thing you remember before you met me?”

  This was Eden, so she wouldn’t remember anything upsetting.

  “The Club Venezia. I was at work. I loved my job. Is that wrong?”

  “That you worked in a nightclub?” I asked, smiling. “No, that’s not wrong.”

  “Sofia? Sofia, is that you?”

  Sofia looked over my shoulder. “Nonna!” The girl scrambled to her feet and ran past me to the woman who had called to her.

  I looked at Samael as we stood. “You need to get back to Venice.”

  “May I come with?” Ionis rubbed his palms together. “I love Venice. The Carnival is my favorite.”

  Samael frowned. “No.” He looked around at the people surrounding us. “Once we’ve heard from the Council, and once I’ve taken care of all this, I’ll go back.”

  “We’d better get going.” I started toward the gate and stopped beside Sofia and her grandmother. “Sofia, would you like to see inside?”

  “More than anything,” she said, beaming.

  I offered her my hand, and she gladly took it. “Right this way.”

  Together, we passed through the gate into euphoria. Perfect peace and love washed over us, melting away all our cares. All the stress of the world was gone in a blink. Some humans around us couldn’t handle the quick release, and they fell to their buckling knees on the soft ground. Sofia remained steady, her eyes closed, her mouth smiling.

  Closing my eyes, I breathed in deep the scent of honeysuckle and sea salt as the Eden light from its two distant suns warmed my face. Every nerve ending tingled with all the best emotions: joy, hope, gratitude, and complete acceptance.

  Every time was like the first time.

  Home.

  The jeans and T-shirt I’d worn in North Carolina were gone, replaced with a similar outfit from my closet in Eden. The threads were finer, stronger, and softer…literally formed from photons of light.

  When I finally looked at Sofia again, the purple haze and my mark had evaporated. Both were gone, along with everything else she’d experienced in the world we’d left behind. Her ghostly form had materialized, and she now wore a pure white dress, a blank slate for the new life she’d build here.

  Her wide eyes looked around the garden entrance, a maze of every vibrant flower one could imagine. Colors I’d never even known existed sprouted up from the emerald grass, stretching toward the topaz sky.

  Sofia squeezed my hand. “Thank you.”

  “Welcome home, Sofia.”

  “May I go with my nonna?” she asked.

  I smiled. “You may go anywhere you like.”

  The two of them joined hands and ran down the path together.

  Reuel stepped beside me and put a hand on my shoulder. He still spoke in Katavukai, but I understood him in perfect English. “It’s good to be back,” he said with a smile.

  “Yes, it is.” I looked down the path toward the busy Eden streets—yes, they were gold. “And now it’s time to go to work.”

  Chapter Seven

  The Principality Council was the governing angel body in Eden. It was comprised of nine Angels of Knowledge, all of whom were widely accepted as the wisest in the celestial hierarchy. The Father had veto power over any decision that was made, but it was rare he got involved.

  The few times he had gotten involved, the Council was pissed. Most recently, when he appointed Sandalphon to the Council. Not to say the Council members are elitists (even though, they totally are), they weren’t happy to have an angel born on Earth added to their numbers.

  Sandalphon was the angelic child of two Seramorta, and was born an Angel of Prophecy and Knowledge. In Eden, he was known as the Oragnosi, which loosely translated to “old wise dude.” He was, indeed, both.

  I expected him to be at the Council hearing. Alas, his seat was empty when I entered the Onyx Tower.

  Instead, the angel Cassiel seemed to be presiding. She was seated in the center of the long marble table with a silver book in front of her.

  Only three angels of the nine had been born into physical bodies on Earth. None of them had Seramorta children, so they were free to pass through the spirit line at will. Cassiel was one of them, and she could have been the angel who’d been the muse for so many paintings. Long golden-brown hair. Icy-blue eyes. Smoking body. Because we were in Eden, I could see her wings, made of light, resting behind her.

  To her right was Zaphkael. He had olive skin and jet-black hair and a snarl that reminded me of a Disney villain. The guy clearly hated me, but no real surprise there—a lot of angels did.

  To Cassiel’s left was Dumah, a strikingly beautiful woman who could’ve passed for Samael’s sister. They both had the same sparkling golden eyes. It was said that Dumah had taken an eternal vow of silence.

  The other six angels had no definite form. They were simply bodies of light and energy; even their wings were indistinguishable. They could, however, take on the form of anything they wished, often resembling humans when they interacted with the souls around them.

  My mother sat in a pew to my right. The only human I could see and the most beautiful being—human or otherwise—in the room. I gave a slight wave, and sh
e smiled. Reuel and Samael went to join her. Ionis had vanished.

  “Warren, you’re late,” Cassiel said, tapping the end of a silver pen against the marble tabletop.

  I approached the podium before them. “Forgive me for keeping you waiting. I’ve been with Fury. Her child was born today.”

  Cassiel’s brow rose. “And?”

  “The child is an angel, but it was unclear who or what kind.” I looked around the room. “Where’s Sandalphon?” At least he had proven in the past to have the best interest of my family at heart.

  “Not here.”

  I waited for her to explain. She didn’t. “Has the Council reached a decision regarding the Morning Star?” I finally asked.

  “We have. Cassiel will deliver our decision,” Zaphkael said.

  Cassiel opened the book and read, “By the order of the Principality Council, any physical vessel harboring an angel who has not received written permission granted by this Council—”

  “Excuse me?” I turned my ear toward the table, certain I’d misheard. “Did you say any angel who has been born into human form without permission?”

  “Yes.”

  I laughed, though it wasn’t remotely funny. “Is that even a thing? Angels have to ask the Council’s permission now?”

  “We feel it is best given our present circumstance with the Morning Star. Henceforth, all angels who desire to be born into human form must first acquire permission of this Council.”

  “Good luck with the riot you’re about to have on your hands.”

  She leaned over her book. “May I continue?”

  “You’re the boss,” I said with a smirk.

  “Any physical vessel harboring an angel who has not received written permission granted by this Council and is aged less than two years shall be destroyed immediately upon discovery—”

  “Destroyed?” I shouted.

  With her expression pinched, she folded her hands on top of the book. “I know you’re new around here, Warren, but no one interrupts this Council.”

  I gripped the sides of the podium to force myself to stay behind it. “You want me to destroy any angel less than two years old?”

  “You don’t have the power to destroy an angel,” Eaza, one of the spirits, said.

  “We only require that the Angels of Death destroy the vessel,” Cassiel clarified.

  I took an angry step back. “Does that mean my daughter? She’s an angel less than two years old.”

  “No, we’ll discuss the Vitamorte in a moment.” Cassiel lifted the top of the book, her eyes asking again, “May I?”

  I gestured for her to go ahead.

  “This shall include but is not limited to an infantile commencement or a mature or juvenile mortal acquisition.”

  I looked up. “Hold on. Juvenile mortal acquisition? Are you saying that if the Morning Star possesses a child, you want us to take the child’s life?”

  “That’s exactly what we’re saying,” Cassiel said with a completely straight face. “All unidentifiable beings shall be destroyed. The Morning Star has masqueraded as a child before to conceal his identity. Destroying all unknowns is the only way we can be sure he isn’t as powerful as he could be.”

  Leaning my elbows on the podium, I cradled my heavy head in my hands.

  “Should any angel encounter an unidentified spirit in any form and willingly fail to destroy the vessel or report it to an Angel of Death with the power to do so, that angel will be considered hostile to the throne of Eden and will be banished to the Earth.”

  “You have got to be kidding me,” I mumbled, slumping over the stone lectern.

  “As for your daughter…”

  I straightened to attention.

  “In order to protect the integrity of the spirit line and maintain our connection with the mortal world, it is the decision of this Council that the Vitamorte shall be brought to Eden before her first birthday to become a seraph.”

  A chill ran down my spine. “A seraph? What does that mean? She’ll grow up here?”

  “It means she won’t grow up at all,” Zaphkael said.

  It felt like the world disappeared beneath my feet. My knees gave way, and I caught myself on the podium before I fell. “What?”

  “The demons’ plan all along has been to use Iliana’s power to destroy the spirit line, forever separating Earth from Eden. The risk is too great with the unrest in Nulterra and the whereabouts of the Morning Star unknown. Bringing Iliana safely here will protect us from—”

  “You’re talking about robbing her of everything! A family. A home. A life. I gave up my life to make sure she had those things.”

  Cassiel’s face softened. “We are all aware that you still have a sentimental attachment to this child—”

  “You think?”

  Zaphkael pointed at me and raised his voice. “If you interrupt this council one more time, I will personally have you thrown into Cira.”

  “Really? You’re talking about destroying my daughter’s life and angel jail is supposed to worry me?” I was shouting again.

  “Warren,” Cassiel said gently, “think of the positives. You and Iliana can be together. She’ll be safe. What kind of life could she have that’s better than here? Especially considering she’ll have to grow up inside that fortress created by your father.”

  “Growing up at Claymore is better than not growing up at all.”

  The gentleness faded from her voice. “There are certain things we cannot allow to happen. The Morning Star using your daughter to destroy the spirit line is chief among them. A close second is the risk of the demons convincing her to join them.”

  “That is complete madness.”

  “Is it? They didn’t have such a hard time convincing your father,” Zaphkael said.

  I couldn’t argue with that.

  Cassiel closed her book. “We will appoint a guardian to bring Iliana to Eden.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “No one goes near my daughter but me.”

  “Then you have until her first birthday to bring her here,” Cassiel said.

  My face fell.

  Zaphkael leaned toward me. “And should you fail, you will be stripped of your title and banished from Eden. Are we clear?”

  I felt like I might vomit. “I beg you to reconsider.”

  “Our decision is final!” he shouted.

  “Then I’d like to see the Father.” I looked around the room. “Does anyone know where I might find him?”

  A thin smile spread across Zaphkael’s face. “Hoping for a reversal of our decision?”

  “It’s worth a discussion on both matters. You’re talking about killing innocents and stripping Iliana of her potential. She’s destined to claim the empty seat of the Morning Star as the most powerful angel in all of Eden—” I heard the words as they left my mouth, and I drew back with alarm. “My god. That’s what this is about, isn’t it?”

  Cassiel rolled her eyes.

  I pointed at her. “It is. The Council was only formed after the uprising of the Morning Star and the first angel war. If Iliana takes her rightful place here in the kingdom, she’ll outrank all of you.”

  “That is insanity,” Cassiel said.

  Zaphkael shook his head. “Worse. It’s blasphemy.”

  “Blasphemy can only be committed against the Father. And I really want to know what he thinks about all this. It flies in the face of his intentions for Iliana.”

  “How do you know the Father’s intentions with Iliana?” Eaza asked.

  “He personally sent Sloan back to Earth to raise her. You think he would have done that if he thought it was better for Iliana to be locked up here?”

  The spirits exchanged glances, and there were murmurs between a few of them I couldn’t make out. Finally, the third angel from Cassiel’s left spoke. His name was Mueren, and his light pulsed with his words as he spoke. “The Father is currently aiding with the hunger crisis in the Horn of Africa.”

  “Where exactly?”

>   “The nation of Malab, near the coast.”

  “Thank you, Mueren.”

  Cassiel looked around the mostly-empty room. “Are there any further questions?”

  I just shook my head.

  “We need to make clear our instructions concerning the Morning Star.” Cassiel held up a white scroll bound with a red seal. “This commandment shall be sent to the messengers at the close of this meeting.”

  Even though angels could communicate within their choirs, the messengers always passed official announcements from the Council or the Father.

  With a heavy sigh, I walked toward the table. “I’ll take it to the Avronesh. I’ll speak with Gabriel when I leave here.” Perhaps I could convince the Archangel Gabriel to buy us some time by delaying the message. I reached for the scroll.

  “Absolutely not. We can’t trust him,” Zaphkael said.

  For a second, Cassiel held it out of my reach, searching my eyes for any sign of deceit. I wondered what she saw. Finally, she gave it to me and stood. “Very well.” Beside her, Zaphkael huffed. She ignored him. “The Council is adjourned.”

  When I turned, my mother caught my eye. She was sadly shaking her head. She knew firsthand what it meant for an innocent to be killed for the sake of hindering the Morning Star.

  I crossed the room, and she stood and greeted me with a hug. “Hi, Mom.”

  She rested her head against my shoulder and rubbed my back. “Hello, son. I’ve missed you.”

  I gestured toward the remaining members of the Council. “I’m so glad I hurried back for this.”

  “You’ll figure something out. You always do.” She pushed my black hair behind my ears. “How’s Fury?”

  “She’s well. The baby is…” I raked my fingers through my black hair. “The baby is going to be a problem.”

  She sighed. “I gathered that. I’m so sorry you’re burdened with this. Can I help?”

  “I must find Gabriel right now, but dinner tonight at home would be great. I need a quiet place to think and plan. Maybe we could invite Alice too.”

  “That sounds lovely.” She looked over her shoulder at Reuel. “I assume you’ll be joining us?”

  With a wide smile, he nodded. “Gratalis.”