by Mary Ting
“Let me see your wound. I’m sorry. I forgot you can’t heal.” Mayra carefully looked down the front of my shirt. She grimaced and pulled back. “You’ll live, but I’m going to have to take care of it. Jonah...Jonah?”
She looked over her shoulder when Jonah didn’t answer.
Standing near a pillar, Jonah pointed at his phone by his ear. “I’m reporting this incident to Father Sam.”
“Father Sam?” I murmured, my eyes fluttering. The room began to spin. “Why?” My word barely left my mouth.
Jonah knew Father Sam? It had been even longer since he’d been to church.
“We need to hurry. He’s lost a lot of blood and his wounds are getting infected.”
Mayra’s worried tone did nothing to put me at ease.
Footsteps neared, but faint. I floated in and out of consciousness.
“I asked Father to bring holy water. He should be here soon.” Jonah’s cold hands touched my forehead. “You’re going to be fine. It could have been a lot worse.”
I shivered and yet my body burned. “Jon...ah. Why...didn’t...you...tell me.”
“I’ll tell you when you’re better. You can barely talk. Just close your eyes and rest. Let me take care of everything.”
I wanted to tell him I had a small bottle of holy water in my back pocket, but darkness engulfed me. I didn’t know how long I had been in the void, but a burst of ember shot like fireworks in the darkness. Then a monster appeared out of thin air with its body on fire. It didn’t fear the flames but relished them, as if the blaze was a part of him. His eyes glowed crimson, and its claws reached for me.
I tried to run, but someone imprisoned me. No shackles or grotesque arms bound me, so why couldn’t I move?
“I’m coming for you.” The beast’s tone was laced with malice and a promise of death.
“Who are you? What do you want?” I jerked, trying to escape, but whoever or whatever held me fast.
“You will release me. You will do as I say.” Its hand came at me, palm first.
“No. No. No...” I tried to scream, but the words barely left my mouth.
Just before the contact, I flew backward as if someone had yanked me. Out of the dream, I gasped as if I had been under water too long and shot my eyes open. My breath came quick and my chest heaved as I struggled.
“Enoch. Enoch. Hey man, it’s me, Jonah.” He grasped my flailing arms. “You’re fine. You’re going to be okay.”
I sat up, my body limp. My shirt clung to me as sweat trickled down my temples. My shirt had been cut, exposing where the demon had cut me. Someone had cleaned my blood and my wounds didn’t look like fresh cuts, but rather a week old with scabs. Then I peered up to see Father Sam staring down at me.
“You’re going to be just fine. I got to you in time. It might leave a scar, but having a scar is better than death.”
“Father Sam. Hello.” My voice croaked, not sounding like my own. Out of respect for a holy man, I didn’t bombard him with questions, at least not yet. “When did you get here? How long have I been out?”
“Father got here in five minutes. Not bad.” Mayra tapped on the pew I was leaning against.
“Five minutes? We’re at least thirty minutes away from your church.” I furrowed my brow, baffled.
“You are right about that.” Father wagged his finger at me, and then meandered toward the altar. “I’m not going to explain how I got here so quickly, at least not until we find out who you truly are.”
“What?” My tone pitched louder than intended and I winced when I got up too fast.
“Steady, Enoch. Sit down and relax.” Jonah lightly shoved me back down. Though his tone was laced with concern, it sounded more like a command.
Father started lighting candles that hadn’t been there when I had entered. But he had no matches. The candles lit up one by one when he pointed at them.
What the hell? “You’re not really a priest, are you? What are you?” My words were disrespectful, but I didn’t care. I needed answers.
Father turned his lips downward. Instead of answering, he shook his head. “Enoch, we’re going to perform a ceremony. We are going to travel back to your last life and see where you take us. If you’re not who we think you are, then we’ll send you back home and you won’t remember what happened today. Though I doubt we are wrong. The demons wouldn’t be after you if you were merely a mortal. And Jonah wouldn’t have been your friend. Something is special about you.”
I swallowed, but my saliva got caught in my throat. So dry. “Listen. Is this because I told you I saw demons?” The question rang more reasonable in my head than out loud. I sounded like a lunatic. “Jonah can take me home and I can pretend none of this happened. I’m very good at pretending. I’ve done it all my life. I’ve blocked out my parents fighting and pretended they loved each other since I was a child. Not a big deal. Okay?”
Mayra slouched on the other side of me. “I know you have many questions. Don’t you want to know?”
I shook my head. “At this point. I just want to go home and forget everything. In fact, I’d rather—”
“He’s turned into a coward,” Father Sam roared.
Never had I seen anyone’s face burn with such rage. Never had I heard anyone’s voice thunder so menacingly. I stumbled back when—fuck—he rounded his shoulders and his back muscles twitched as if something was coming to life. Then like a flick of a paper fan, wings fanned out as if they were extensions of his arms, ten times the size.
I gasped and pushed back into the pew, though I couldn’t go any farther.
“Tell me, Enoch, what do you see?” Father Sam inched closer one step at a time with his arms extended. “Am I something you can forget?”
I glanced at Mayra, who picked dirt out of her nails. Jonah had no surprised expression on his face. Was I seeing things? No. I had seen wings on them as well.
I gathered they had all known each other for quite some time and were the same kind of angelic being. And yes, I did want answers. I had to stop running. I had run all my life. It was time to face it all.
“Who are you? What do you want with me?” I rotated my wounded shoulder, feeling the stiffness ease a bit.
Father Sam closed his wings and began to light the remaining unlit candles. “I’m going to tell you things, and you won’t believe me, but you will after we travel to your past.” After he lit the last one, he came closer, but stayed a distance away.
“My name is Samyaza. Sam for short. I was one of the twenty angels sent to watch over the mortals before the flood. We called ourselves watchers, and many lesser angels came after us, watchers also but with less power than the originals. I enticed all twenty leaders, my brothers, to procreate with humans. I wanted power over the humans God loved so much so I could use them against him. So we used the mortal women to create an army of nephilim—half-human and half-angel.”
“You’re Samyaza. The Samyaza?”
Father Sam, or I should say Samyaza, must have seen the confusion on my face. He furrowed his brow and continued.
“My brother, Azazel, the wisdom behind war, taught men to battle. He pitted them against each other; thus, the first civil war began. Not only did we do horrible things to the mortals, but we also taught them bad behaviors. The nephilim, too, wanted power over the humans, but humans would have no such thing, so they fought back. It was chaos. Who do you think won?”
I blinked, surprised. “I-I’m guessing nephilim. They would be stronger and bigger. Humans, no matter how many of them, would be no match.”
Father Sam paced around the altar, the candles flickering as he passed. “That’s right. If the war had continued, there would be no mortals. If...if...if. For you see, God so loved the humans more than his first creation that he was willing to get rid of all his fallen watchers and nephilim. He sent Uriel, one of the seven archangels who presided over the world, to warn Noah about the upcoming flood. Some survived the flood. However, Uriel revealed that those fallen angels who rebelle
d against God would be judged. And believe me, they have sinned plenty, so they will never be free.”
I shrugged. “So, what does this have to do with me?”
Fast as a wink, Father Sam was in my face. “Everything, Enoch. There’s a war brewing. We have to find the other six original archangels that were locked away before the fallen watchers find a way to bring back my brothers, the rest of the original twenty. Or we won’t have a chance.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Archangels?”
“Michael, Araqiel, Ramiel, Selsphiel, Raguel, and Barachiel. The seven best archangels.”
“You missed one. You said there were seven, but you named six. You forgot Uriel, I presume.”
“Ah...yes. I didn’t forget Uriel.” His breath brushed against my face, and his piercing gaze held mine. “Do you want to know why I didn’t say his name?”
I rubbed my injured shoulder, though I felt much better almost back to myself. I needed to do something with my hand. “Because you forgot and didn’t want to admit it?” It was the dumbest thing I’d ever said. I wanted to punch myself.
Father Sam bared his teeth, obviously not pleased. “No. Because...” He jabbed my chest. “If my suspicions are correct, you...are...Uriel.”
I made a noise between coughing and choking. “Sorry, but I am not an angel. Definitely not an archangel. I don’t have wings. Never had them as a child and don’t have them now.”
Father Sam backed away groaning. “You forced yourself to forget, and you locked up the other archangels and original watchers so there would be no war. But you were wrong, Uriel.”
“Don’t call me that. I’m Enoch,” I spat out and quailed. Pissing off an angel would not be a good idea. “Besides, why would I lock up the archangels? It doesn’t make sense. Those watcher top dogs, I understand, but—”
“That’s why we’re here to find out. Come, Enoch. Let’s see what’s inside that head of yours.” He gestured to the altar.
I looked at Mayra and Jonah, who had been quiet throughout this conversation. I had nothing to lose. They could get their answer that I wasn’t some dude named Uriel and I could finally go home. I would love nothing more than to get this nonsense out of the way.
I believed there were supernatural beings. I had witnessed grotesque demons firsthand, run away from them actually, and had been hunted and injured by them, but the idea of me being an archangel was ridiculous.
Releasing a heavy sigh, I rose. Mayra and Jonah trailed behind me. I stumbled but found my footing and carefully paced the distance to the broken down altar. Apprehension crept through me. What if he found things I didn’t want to see? What if my past life sucked? What if I had done terrible things?
“I’ll agree on one condition.” I shoved my hands inside my pockets as a cool breeze brushed against me.
“Name it,” Father Sam said.
“When I wake up from whatever past life you’ll see, if I’m not the person you think I am, then I don’t want to remember it. I want you to make me forget. I don’t want to think about or mourn people I loved in the past. Is that a deal?”
“Deal.”
I frowned. “Angels can’t lie, right? A deal is a deal, right?”
Father Sam sighed through his nose and scrunched his face. “If you’re not who I think you are, I don’t want you to remember me, so don’t worry.”
“Fine.” I ground my teeth, a part of me still reserved. “What do you want me to do?”
“Lie down on the altar.”
I took a step back, my heart racing. “Wait a minute. This isn’t a sacrificial ceremony, is it? I’m not going to bleed to death or be stabbed, some shit like that?”
Jonah placed a hand on my arm. “Don’t worry, Enoch. I’ve got your back.”
I craned my neck toward him. “Oh, yeah, really? You’ve been hiding a lot of secrets from me. Why should I trust you?”
Jonah’s forehead creased in annoyance. “Because, idiot. I’m the one who saved you the night of your accident. How do you think you survived without a scratch? Some fairy godmother swooped down?”
I poked at his chest. “So it was you.”
“Awww...that’s so sweet. You thought of me before your death.”
I wasn’t sure if he was being serious or sarcastic. His tone gave me no indication and I didn’t care anymore.
“Can you both stop? Let’s get this over with. We’re safe for now, but who knows.” Mayra leaned closer to Jonah. “Father Sam gives me the creeps. Hurry up.” Then she shoved me toward the altar.
I stumbled and would have stepped on a candle had it not been for Father Sam. He held out his hand and the force of his power stopped me. My body leaned forward at about a sixty-degree angle. I hung in that position until Father Sam released me.
“You can hurt yourself after I find out.” Father Sam showed no indication if his comment was a joke.
I stepped onto the altar and spread out. The altar looked long, but it was shorter than my body. I assumed I had nothing to fear, but when Father Sam whistled, I lifted my neck.
Three people I’d never seen, didn’t know were there, stepped out of the shadows.
Chapter 15
The Past
Enoch
I sat up, ready to bolt. “What’s going on? Who are these people and why are they here?”
“Calm down, Enoch. They’re nephilim and they are not going to hurt you. They’re with me.” There was no ounce of tenderness in Sam’s harsh tone. “When we get into your head and travel to your past, we might run into trouble.”
“We?”
“Yes, we will all be there. You’ll need back up just in case. You don’t want another wound do you? We’ll be there to protect you.”
I eyed them. They looked human—two males, and one familiar-seeming female. Then I remembered her. She had been at church when I went with my mom. I remembered her nice smile. Had she been following me? I needed to be more observant.
“Fine. Just don’t mess with my head.” I lay back down with a huff.
Faces loomed over me, Father Sam’s above mine.
“Close your eyes, Enoch. Clear your head.”
I did as instructed, but opened one eye enough to take a peek. Father Sam began mumbling words with his hand extended over me. The others joined hands, repeating his words. Shortly after, the candle flames blasted higher, as tall as them.
Heat scorched around me, but I didn’t feel the intensity of the fire as I should have. The flames moved in flickering circles. The louder their voices, the faster the flames spun, causing a tunnel of wind. Smoke from the fire covered the space, and like a light switch, my mind went blank.
My body jolted and my eyes snapped open. I stood up and examined my surroundings. I was no longer on the altar, but in the middle of the aisle of the same church, only the church was in one piece. Looked fairly new. Where was everyone?
“Jonah?” I whispered. “Mayra? Father Sam?”
I jumped to the side and took cover behind the altar when the door burst open. A man—no, an angel—with silver liquid oozing from his torso limped in.
His wings, partly gray and black were extended halfway out, arching with his step, as if helping to steady him.
More angels rushed in, just as tall and grand looking, but they seemed hesitant to come further.
“Ko. Why did you come in here?” one asked urgently. “Are you insane?”
Ko craned his neck back, and the darkness in his eyes flashed a fiery red. “Don’t ever question my motives, Armaros.”
“Yes, Master.” Armaros dipped his head, as if ashamed.
Ko dragged his legs to the front and leaned against the marble altar. He reached into his feathers and pulled out a sword. How in the world had he hidden the sword in there? Then with mighty swings, he cut the legs of the altar, one by one. The altar thumped to the ground, but it didn’t break.
“Gadreel,” Ko snapped. “Get everyone in order, even the nephilim. The archangels will not expect us to hide ins
ide a church, of all places. Gather as many mortals as possible. Women and children too. They will not burn the church down if they—”
Thunder boomed and lightning flashed through the roof in spurts. The ceiling did not collapse as I expected. Instead, seven tunnels of blinding lights passed through the holes.
I pressed my back against the wall, wanting to disappear. Seven angels with glorious alabaster wings, twice the size of the others, took much of the space. Their hair was purest white, almost shiny silver, extending past their shoulder blades. After they closed their wings, one stepped out in front.
“Surrender now and I’ll be merciful. Fight against us, then you’ll seal your doom.”
Ko backed away with a nervous chuckle. “Michael. This is St. Augustine’s church. Did you not know? This is a safe haven, even for a fallen angel like me. So go away and leave us alone.”
“Is that true, Michael?” one archangel asked.
Michael’s muscles bulged, his fists tightening. The exquisite sword he held sparkled in the sun rays pouring through the punctured ceiling. It looked just like the one Father had hung in the vault that Mother had warned me not to touch.
“It’s true, Uriel. I created this treaty when the watchers had too many problems they couldn’t solve on their own. There were two hundred of them. They acted like savages. I gave a man a dream to build this church. Whoever entered would be protected. Afterward, peace prevailed for a short duration, until Samyaza decided to create a new problem.”
Another angel stepped forward, pearl-white hair the color of his wings.
Michael flung his arm back. “No. Araqiel.”
“You created the treaty. You can break it,” the one to his right side with gray eyes said.
“No, Ramiel. I cannot.”
“There is no law that said anyone else can’t interfere,” one with amber eyes said.
“There will be consequences, Selsphiel.”
“Well, that settles it then.” Ko threw up his hands. “It’s time for us to depart. Leave us alone and we’ll leave you alone. It’s a simple rule. Doesn’t take much brains to understand the logic.”