The Soul Destroyer Read online

  “Warren, a word?” It was Cassiel, standing behind me.

  “One second,” I said to her.

  My mother looked past me, her dark eyes sparkling with Cassiel’s light. “You can invite her too if you’d like.”

  I chuckled. “Even now, Mom? She wants to freeze Iliana as a baby and have all humans like you killed.”

  “Maybe you can make her see the error of her ways,” she said with a smile.

  “I’ll see you at home. It could take a while because Samael and I also have work to do.” I pointed to where Samael was waiting for me.

  “We’ve got all the time in the world,” she said.

  I sighed. “I wish that were true. Iliana turns one in just a few weeks.”

  “I love you, son.”

  “Love you too, Mom.”

  I turned back to Cassiel. “If you want to talk, keep up.”

  The Angel of Knowledge fell into step beside me as we walked down the center aisle toward the exit of the tower. I motioned for Samael and Reuel to follow us. They did.

  “I’m sorry. I know the mandate will be hard for you,” she said.

  “You don’t know shit, Cassiel. Not only is what you’re asking me to do not going to be effective, it’s wrong.”

  I held the door for her as we walked outside.

  “Then what would you suggest instead? Putting the Morning Star in a cell he can walk right out of?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “He can’t walk out of all cells.”

  “You are referring to the facilities built by your father?”

  “The Echo buildings on the Claymore properties are secure. I’ve tested a few of them myself. By the same design, Azrael could create a prison cell that would hold him.”

  She laughed. “You think we trust Azrael?”

  “The Father forgave Azrael. Why can’t you?”

  “Because Azrael broke our code.”

  I smirked. “Now you sound like a Marine.”

  “Angels never side with humans over other angels. He put us all at risk by trying to save your mother. Or to go a step further, he put us all at risk by having you.”

  I turned to face her and crossed my arms.

  “It’s true, Warren. Had you not been born, the fallen Angels of Life would have never conspired to create Sloan. And if the two of you had never met, there would be no threat to the spirit line.”

  “So you’re saying it would be better if I’d never been born.”

  Her perfect mouth closed.

  I turned and walked away from her. “And I thought you liked me.”

  “I do like you, Warren.” She double-stepped to catch up with me, and when she did, she grabbed my arms to stop me. “But this is bigger than us. This could destroy everything as we know it.”

  Trying to dismiss her, I tore myself from her grip and walked on.

  “Are you ready to be separated from your daughter for all time?” she called behind me. “Because that’s exactly what will happen if the spirit line comes crashing down and Iliana is on the other side.”

  That got my attention. I turned to face her.

  “She’s immortal; so are you. You’d be on the opposite sides of forever if the Morning Star succeeds.” She came toward me again, this time snaking her fingers around mine. “This is really the only way. You’ll still have Iliana.”

  I stared down at our joined hands. One of her powers as an Angel of Knowledge was the ability to force people to tell the truth. She could even read someone’s mind, if she had ahold of them long enough. My jaw tightened. If she wanted honesty, that’s exactly what she’d get.

  “What do you not understand about the fact that I gave up my whole family so that Iliana might have a full and happy life on Earth? Don’t talk like you understand what it is to love anyone other than yourself.”

  Her lips pressed together.

  “I will find another way.” I jerked my hand free. “Excuse me. Unless you know where I might find Sandalphon or Metatron, I really have no use for you.”

  “Metatron, no. But Sandalphon willfully entered Cira today for a time of reflection.”

  My heart nearly imploded. If Sandalphon was in Cira, there would be no way to reach him. “Why?”

  “We’ve had issues with him lately. He said he needed time away to think.”

  I gripped my forehead. “That makes two of us.”

  “What do you want with Sandalphon and Metatron?”

  “Goodbye, Cassiel.” Without answering, I turned and walked away.

  “Warren!”

  I glanced back.

  “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  I was wrong.

  It was possible to feel sadness in Eden over things on Earth.

  “What will you do?” Reuel asked as we walked with Samael toward the Avronesh, the sanctuary of the messengers. We could see its tall golden domes rising up into the blue sky in the distance.

  “I have to find the Morning Star. It’s the only bargaining chip I might have to convince them to let Iliana stay on Earth until she’s grown. If either of you have any ideas on how I can convince Gabriel to delay the message, I’m all ears.”

  Silence hung between the three of us as we crossed the Idalia Marketplace.

  “It wouldn’t delay the message, but you could add that any Angel of Death must notify you before executing any judgment on Earth,” Samael said.

  “I can do that?” I asked. “I can make them notify me before they use their killing power?”

  “You can, and the Council can’t argue. It’s in the Canon they wrote.”

  “You’re a genius, Samael.” I looked over at him. “Any idea why Sandalphon would have checked into Cira?”

  “It’s not that unusual. He disappears frequently,” Reuel said.

  “To Cira? Where nobody can reach him?”

  He grimaced. “Well…no.”

  “That is unusual,” Samael agreed.

  After the spectacular fall of the Morning Star and his followers, Cira was created to be a cooling-off zone for spirits teetering on rebellion. Most of the time, we were forced there—hence, the reason we called it “angel jail.” But I’d been told, it was originally meant to be a voluntary place of respite. A great cosmic time-out for anyone tempted to do something everyone might regret.

  I’d just never known anyone to actually choose to be there. Once an angel was locked inside, all the excess of Eden was stripped away. There was no peace. No hope. No joy. And worst of all in my current circumstance, there was zero communication.

  “Can we even get him a message?” I asked.

  Reuel shook his head.

  “Not until he chooses to leave,” Samael said.

  I swore. “He was my best chance at an ally on the Council.”

  “And between him and Metatron, he was your most likely aid in identifying the Morning Star,” Reuel added.

  “Thanks, buddy,” I said, shaking my head. “What can you guys tell me about this seraph thing? Are there others here?”

  “Yes, but not many,” Samael said. “The first was the Angel of Knowledge Mariel. She was brought here around the age of six. She’d been stolen and raised by the demon, Amaiah. By the time we found her, her mind was so warped by her extended proximity to Amaiah that she was exhibiting psychotic behavior—”

  “Like what?” I asked.

  “Mutilating animals, harming other children…Had we left her alone, there’s no telling what she might have become,” Samael said.

  “Why not just separate her from the body?”

  “It was discussed, but we weren’t sure if the damage done had affected her spirit. We were unsure what we might have released into the world. Bringing her to Eden seemed like a safer option.”

  “And she’s OK now?” I asked.

  “Yes, but she’ll never come into her full power again.”

  I swallowed. “And the others?”

  “There were only two others, both Angels of Protection. Gaelish and Ofaniel were beheade
d by Herod the Great when they were one and two, respectively. Beheading an angel complicates the process of healing or destroying the body, so they were brought here.”

  “Herod the Great?” I asked.

  “The king of Judea a couple thousand years ago,” Reuel said. “Late in his life, a traveling prophet told Herod a new king would be born to replace him. In a fit of paranoia, he ordered all boys under the age of two to be slaughtered. Gaelish and Ofaniel happened to be among them.”

  I scowled. “Under the age of two? Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?”

  Reuel sadly nodded his head.

  “Where are they now?”

  “Have you been to Lunaris?” Samael asked.

  “No.”

  “It’s about a day’s journey past your mother’s place at the Eternal Sea. Beautiful orchards out that way.”

  We started up the stone steps, but I stopped and turned around. “Wait. Samael, I need you to go to Venice. We still need to find out what happened to those humans. Just hurry because I’m going to need you here.”

  He took a step back down. “You can count on me.”

  “I know I can.” I turned back to climb the stairs again.

  “Warren,” Samael said.

  I stopped.

  “Good luck.”

  “Thank you.”

  He spread his radiant wings. With one powerful thrust, he soared from the ground.

  “Why don’t you ever fly?” Reuel asked as we watched Samael disappear into the clouds.

  I started back up the steps. “I fly.”

  “Not often.”

  “It feels weird. I’m supposed to be here as a human.”

  “But you’re not a human.”

  “I still feel human. Some of the time, anyway.”

  When I permanently chose Eden as my home—the day Iliana was born—the Father gave me wings. I could fly on either side of the spirit line, though as Reuel had said, I usually didn’t. Human souls in Eden, like my mother and Alice, couldn’t fly, and I certainly felt more like them than I ever felt like the other angels.

  Two massive bronze doors led into the Avronesh. Ionis was inside, drinking a glass of wine with two other messengers. He stood when he saw us.

  “You disappeared on us,” I said, though I wasn’t really sorry. Ionis couldn’t keep his mouth shut, and the longer the news of the Council stayed quiet, the better.

  “I didn’t think you’d miss me. Politics aren’t really my thing.” He held up his glass. “Would you like a drink?”

  Would I ever.

  I shook my head. “Wish I could. I need to see Gabriel.”

  “You know where to find him. I’ll see you two later,” he said, going out the door through which we’d come in.

  Reuel and I walked down the long haul to Gabriel’s office. “Knock, knock,” I said at the open door.

  The Archangel Gabriel was seated behind a large desk. He was tall, larger than the rest of the messengers, and had long black hair and dark-tan skin. He looked like he’d been born into a Native American tribe. Hell, maybe he had been.

  He looked up. “Warren, come in. Hello, Reuel.”

  “I’ll let the two of you talk.” Reuel pointed over his shoulder. “I’m going to check in at the Keep. See you at dinner?”

  “Yeah, I’ll see you later.” When he was gone, I closed the door behind him. Then I walked over and sat down across from Gabriel in a chair that molded to me like a cloud. I relaxed back against it.

  “How can I help you, Warren?”

  “The Council has a couple of announcements for you to make.”

  He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands across his stomach. “I’m listening.”

  “The first is that the Council is now requiring all angels who wish to be born on Earth to register, to request permission from them before they act.”

  Gabriel’s eyes widened. “You’re serious?”

  “Afraid so.”

  “That’s not written in the Canon.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe they’ll add it.”

  He stood so forcefully that his chair slid back and slammed against the wall. “They are taking away one of the very few freedoms we have?”

  It was hard not to smile. His reaction would do nothing but help me. “I know. Bummer, right?”

  “The news won’t go over well.”

  I put my hands up in defense. “Don’t shoot the messenger,” I said with a joking smile.

  He laughed, sort of. “What’s the other message?”

  “They’ve also decided that if any angel encounters an unidentified spirit in any human form, they are supposed to destroy its body or report it to an Angel of Death to be destroyed. This includes infants and children, specifically infants under two.”

  Gabriel settled slowly in his chair. “What if a demon has taken a child and the child is still alive?”

  I dragged the tips of my fingers across the center of my throat.

  He balanced his elbows on the table. “What?”

  “Read it for yourself.” I handed him the scroll. “Any angel who fails to do so will be declared hostile and excommunicated.”

  He broke the seal and opened it.

  When he finished reading, Gabriel cradled his skull in his large hands. Worry radiated off him.

  I knew the feeling.

  “They can’t do this.”

  “And yet they are.”

  “They’re willing to kill innocents just to take the Morning Star out of commission for a year? Does the Father know about this?”

  “He will soon enough.” I scooted closer to the desk and lowered my voice. “Which is why I need you to add an addendum to the message for the Angels of Death. Before any of them execute a judgment on a human or an angel-child under the age of two, I must be notified.”

  “That’s in the Canon. I can do that without either of us getting into trouble. We’ll start delivering the message tomorrow to give you peace for the night. I think that will be reasonable enough for the Council.”

  “Thank you, Gabriel. You can mark Samael and Reuel off your list. They were in the courtroom with me and heard the message themselves.”

  Nodding, he made a note. Then he pointed at a line on the paper. “Is this other part in here about your daughter true? Are they bringing her to Eden now?”

  I stood. “Not if I can help it.”

  Chapter Eight

  When she was human, my mother had always wanted a house by the ocean. Now, she had one, on the cliffs overlooking the Eternal Sea. It was a bay off the even larger Eden Ocean.

  A cobblestone path led around the front of the house, and the double doors were open, looking out over the water. I stopped out in the yard to admire the view. The waves splashed and retreated as if they were dancing with the rocks below.

  I closed my eyes, soaking in the quiet serenity. It would be so easy to let the whole business of the Morning Star simply wash out to sea.

  The quiet moment shattered with a happy bark coming from the house. Before I could turn, my dog was bouncing around my boots. She had been a gift from Reuel to welcome me to Eden, a brown-and-white English bulldog .

  Reuel had named her Skittles.

  “Hey, girl,” I said, getting down to my knees on the soft grass. With her feet happily prancing on my thighs, she licked my face and nuzzled her smushed snout against my hands as I tried to pet her. “Did you miss me?”

  She barked.

  I hugged her and scratched her wrinkled sides until she flipped over onto her back. Begging for a belly rub, she wiggled in the grass. I gladly obliged.

  Two cool hands covered my face from behind. “Three guesses, but you only need one.”

  I’d recognize my best friend’s voice anywhere in eternity.

  Laughing, I turned around in Alice’s arms and stood, pulling her against me. “God, I’ve missed you.” I lifted her feet off the ground in a tight hug, then put her back down.

  “Me too.” She rested her head against my chest a
nd sighed. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

  Alice was the first person I’d ever loved, though it had only ever been in the filial sense, never romantic. When I was alive, she was the closest thing I’d ever known to family, and she’d always felt like what I imagined a sister would be. And the feeling was mutual. Even in Eden, Alice would introduce me as her brother. We were family and the very best of friends.

  Skittles barked and pushed her way in between our feet.

  “Somebody missed you even more than me,” she said, still clinging to my middle.

  “Was she good for you?”

  “Always is, but we’re both glad you’re home.” After a moment, she looked up and smiled. “How was the melancholy land of depression and gloom?”

  “Excruciating, as usual.” I released her, and we started toward the house with Skittles and her stumpy legs at a full gallop to keep up. “What have you been up to without me here to keep you out of trouble?”

  “I’ve been keeping myself entertained. Did you know that if you bribe Forfax with enough strawberry manna, she will fly you to the auranos and let you create a star?”

  “I had no idea.” I laughed. “That’s what you’ve been up to? Making stars with Forfax?”

  She grabbed my hand to stop me, then spun me back toward the cliffs. She pointed up toward the sky. “See the pink one? She named it the Alys, after me.”

  “Why did you make it pink?”

  “Why wouldn’t I make it pink?”

  Fair enough. I wasn’t even sure why I asked. Everything Alice had in Eden was pink, including her entire wardrobe. Her sweater that night was soft, fuzzy, and the color of Pepto-Bismol. She’d also gotten Skittles a pink moonstone collar.

  I smiled. “You and Forfax, huh?”

  She skipped along the path beside me, her blonde hair bouncing around her face. “I dunno. We’ll see. She’s beautiful, and she knows all the best places to watch the sunrise over Earth.”

  “And she lets you make stars.”

  “And she lets me make stars.” She hooked her arm through mine. “What’s with you and Brainiac Barbie? Should I expect her at dinner tonight?”

  “Absolutely not. And after today, you might never see her again.”

  “What happened today?”

  “The Council wants me to do something I completely disagree with.”