Hell's Redemption- The Complete Series Boxset

by Grace McGinty

  Memphis whirled, very few could sneak up on the naturally cagey angel, and he pinned Lux with a cold stare.

  “Come on Lux, you know he hates that.” I resisted the urge to laugh. That would not defuse the situation.

  “Lux.”

  “Mephistopheles.”

  They had a macho scary stare off, and I went back to the baby. Her eyes had closed as she listened to the steady thrum of my heart.

  My sweet baby, Arcadia cooed, and the baby blinked, her eyes shifting slowly around as if she could hear her mother’s voice. My little warrior. Mommy loves you, and she’ll get to hold you soon. Estrella’s little face scrunched, and if she hadn’t been so very young, I’d say she looked confused. In reality, she probably had wind.

  Memphis, who could hear Arcadia’s soft words, turned to look at us. He walked to the other humidicrib, and turned to look at Lux.

  “May I hold the baby?”

  Lux looked like he was going to say no, pinning him with a deadly look that promised severe pain if he so much as made her cry, but eventually nodded.

  Memphis reached in and picked up Hope, her whole body fitting into one of his large hands. She smacked her lips and then opened her eyes. She looked up at Memphis, and stared him directly in the eyes, as if she could see into his soul.

  Memphis looked like he’d been slapped as he just stared back.

  “This is the first time she has opened her eyes,” Val whispered, careful not to break the moment.

  Memphis was shaking his head. “It is not possible. They are not Nephilim, nor Angel, yet they aren’t entirely human either. Their souls have been shaped by the divine and it’s left them something other. Something… beautiful.” I’d never heard Memphis sound so awed. So at a loss for answers.

  “They’re special; I knew it from the moment their souls took root.” I kissed Estrella’s head. “I think they can hear the voices of other souls. Estrella could hear her mother just now, I know it. She knew that there was another voice in the room.”

  Memphis raised the baby closer to his face, his hands strong and sure, though Lux took a step closer.

  “Be still, Lux. I swear on my immortal soul that I will not harm this child or her sister, as long as I am a part of the fabric of existence.”

  “You know, they’ve racked up a lot of blood oaths from a lot of powerful people in their short lives. Luc should be worried about being overthrown by the time they are five,” I chuckled, although no one else was laughing.

  Do you think that Lucifer will see them as a threat? Arcadia sounded legitimately worried.

  “Seriously guys? That is one Big Bad you don’t have to worry about. Cady gave them their beautiful humanity, and Oz gave them that strawberry fuzz sprouting on their heads, but their angelic traits are all me. As much as we have skirted around the topic, these babies are as much mine as they are yours. Part of my life force shaped their own. And Luc, for all his faults, loves me with a passion that burned through the Heavens. He will love these two because they are an extension of me. In Lucifer, they have the protection of the Devil himself. No one could ask for more than that.”

  Lux nodded, and Memphis was still transfixed by Hope.

  Ask them how the rest of the guys are coping?

  I relayed Arcadia’s message.

  Valery shrugged. “They are surviving. Barely. We take turns at being here with the bebes, and one of us is usually with Arcadia. We take it in shifts, though Eli does not rest. As Oz said, he is searching constantly for a foolproof way to mend her body quickly. Tolliver has pulled every string money can buy to get Cady to the top of the transplant list. They have started her on radiation therapy, but the cancer has spread throughout her body and it makes it difficult. But Eli will find a solution. Sam is keeping everything else afloat. Ri is taking the whole thing the worst. He blames himself for her death. Half death, whatever we are calling it. He can hardly look at the bebes, just sits at her bedside and mourns, despite our assurances that she will return to us.” He sounded so stubbornly resolute that it was tough not to believe him.

  My poor Ri. He is always so eager to take the blame for every wrong that happens in my life, and he has the bad luck to be there every time things go to shit.

  “One problem at a time. We will soothe Orion’s troubled feelings next time we are in town. Right now, we need to see an Angel about a soul.”

  Oz reached out and carefully removed Estrella from my arms. The baby let out a small, desolate cry that threatened to crack my black little heart wide open.

  I will be back, Little One. Be good for your daddies. Ace, I want to hold Hope, even just for a moment.

  “Of course,” I answered Arcadia, and Oz gave me a startled look.

  “She’s really in there then?”

  I nodded.

  “God, I just wish I could hold her, or hear her for myself. It’s killing me,” his voice cracked and I couldn’t help but reach up and stroke his cheek. It may have been Arcadia’s impulse, or mine, but I wasn’t sure.

  “I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you can do both of those things. I’m on my way to see Raphael now. By this time tomorrow, we may have a solution.” I walked over and held my hands out to Memphis, who was still entranced by the tiny life in his hands. He whispered to her in the Angelic tongue, and she gurgled happily. He passed her over with confidence, and I took her awkwardly. She was so tiny and delicate. It was hard not to treat her like spun glass.

  She is just perfect.

  She was, with her tiny rosebud mouth and her tiny little nose, and her-

  Ugh. I shook myself out of the mush spiral. Hope's eyes seemed knowing. Older than her sisters, as if she were an old soul.

  “We should go,” I whispered, though I could sit here and catalogue Hope's tiny features all day. I placed her back in her humidicrib. Lux stood beside me as we looked down at the baby.

  “Will Raphael help?”

  I wanted to lie to him and tell him it was a sure thing, but he wouldn't appreciate empty platitudes designed to make him feel better.

  “Maybe. It is in his nature to heal the broken.”

  I was secretly worried that we may be too broken to repair, but I didn’t say that out loud. Words spoken had power.

  Aleppo, Syria.

  I’d been here several decades before Arcadia had even been born, and even then it had been a city that seemed to tremble on a knife edge. Now it was a ruined shell of humanity, a nightmare of rubble and smoke. Raphael would be here. He was drawn to the places of unimaginable suffering, where the weary had rightly lost their faith.

  I had no idea… I mean, I knew, I’d seen the passing news coverage, but this. I had no idea… she trailed off, and I didn’t press her. It was a lot to take in, but I had seen wars. All the Wars of Man since the beginning of time, and the Wars of Heaven and Hell. Not even Luc had a hand in this mess, though. Sure, in the beginning, he’d gotten markers against souls on both sides, but this giant clusterfuck was beyond the dealings of Heaven or Hell. This was strictly the purview of man and their failings.

  Memphis shook his head. “There is violence in the air. Something is about to happen.” We were both cloaked, our wings held above the ash and dust that littered the ground. I could sense the violent intent in the air. I tilted my head. Air strike.

  I looked toward the market across the street, where people still managed to live despite the constant threat of death and destruction.

  “I’ll get the people, you get the missile.”

  Memphis nodded, and lifted into the air. You couldn’t see anything more than his huge midnight wings as he pushed the missile off course as if it were an annoying insect rather than a piece of equipment that could kill dozens of people. It exploded in the air, shrapnel falling down over the heads of the people in the market. I spread my own wings wide and caught the main flurry of falling steel. I’d miss a little, but a few cuts and bruises were better than death. I hissed against the pain of the debris hitting my wings
, but it would all heal instantly.

  I stood and shook out my wings as the crowd stared up at the sky. I could hear murmurings of misfiring missiles, and a couple of people praising their deity.

  If you guys can stop the missiles, protect the humans, then why doesn’t The Big Guy send down more angels to help these people? Arcadia, with her warm, empathetic soul sounded outraged. I understood her rage all too well.

  “It is not the purview of heaven to interfere in the quarrels of men, or their results. As Azriel likes to say, balance must be maintained,” Memphis spat Azriel’s name.

  If you interfere in the workings of the world, outside the preordained, you doubt the Father's plans and you fall. It’s a small club so far. You’ve met all four of us. There’s not enough of us to make a difference in any war. We’ll do what we can, but while we aren’t human, we aren’t robots either. We would go mad, or become the heartless demons that Humans believe us to be. Gusion is especially sensitive to the needless death and destruction in the world around him. Each death he’d witness, he would also witness the life the person would have had, had they not been a victim of the war in which they died, I explained to Arcadia privately. Memphis had his own reasons for not crusading for the innocents in every war the humans cooked up, and they weren’t my reasons to share.

  “Let's find a field hospital, that’s where Raphael will be,” I said, walking past the oblivious humans. Memphis stopped near a child, no more than two, clutched to the shoulder of his mother, and kissed the top of his head. The baby looked around, and then met Memphis’s eyes. He gave Memphis the warmest smile, and my heart swelled. I was getting clucky or something. That baby would probably be another tiny shroud wrapped corpse before this was over, but hopefully the kiss of an angel, fallen or not, would help ward off destiny. I kissed his tiny, hollow cheek. Two kisses were better than one.

  We walked along the remnants of an avenue toward the outer edge of the city. I could sense Raphael’s light, the heavenly beacon still calling me despite my status. Arcadia was quiet, shell shocked.

  Memphis looked… worried. “What’s wrong?”

  He just grunted and pointed to a squat white building. One wall had a blown out hole in it. “He’s there.”

  I reached out and grabbed his arm, halting him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I haven’t seen Raphael since we fell. His was the last face I saw before we landed in Hell,” he mumbled.

  “You told me yourself that Raphael is a softie. There’s no animosity in his heart.”

  We stepped into the building, and for all intents it looked abandoned, nothing but a shell with hints at its previous occupants. A cross still hung on the wall. A child’s stuff toy lay dirty and forgotten in a corner. But in the dimness of the corner, faint light glowed between the floorboards.

  “Down,” I mouthed, and looked around for some kind of latch or finger hold to lift the boards. Beneath a roughhewn piece of concrete was a single knothole, and Memphis reached past me to lift the large square of boards that opened to reveal stairs. We could hear voices, and we followed the stairs down to a large open room, with several kerosene lanterns burning and an old wooden table placed in the center. The smell of blood, desperation and hopelessness hit my nose. I lived in hell, I knew the scent of death well. This was the most rudimentary of field hospitals. A last ditch stop before you left the mortal plane forever. A tall man, with nondescript features and a blood soaked button up shirt, was operating on a child. The lower half of the boy’s leg was a mess of torn muscle and shattered bone. The kid was thankfully out of it.

  “Acerezeal. Michael said you’d probably drop by. Come, I need you to hold these.” He waved the handle of a metal clamp at me.” He hadn’t looked up from his task. I took the clamp which was holding the kid's femoral artery shut. I noticed another boy in the corner, probably not much older than the boy on the table, but he was also covered in blood. Beneath the drying blood though, the boys naturally olive skin was a deathly grey cast.

  “Is he okay?”

  Raphael gave a humorless laugh. “No one is okay here, Acerezeal. But physically he is unharmed. He pulled Adnan from the rubble and carried him here. His parents are dead, as well as two of his siblings.” Finally, Raphael looked at me, and I saw his clear green eyes filled with despair. His eyes flicked to Memphis and he finally smiled. “Mephistopheles. It heals my heart to see you looking so well. Please, soothe Nazir. It would be best if he didn’t see me do this procedure on his brother. He has seen enough horror for one day.”

  Arcadia’s gentle sobs became white noise in the back of my mind as I went to work with Raphael, his fingers deft as he pieced the boy back together.

  Memphis waved a hand over Nazir’s dark head, and the boy fell into a deep slumber. Memphis put him in a pallet in the corner, wrapping him in a heavy woven blanket.

  “It is the third day of bombing in the city. Soon there will be nothing left to claim in victory. They will be claiming a country of corpses.” There was a thread of steel in Raphael’s voice, one that I’d never heard before, even during the angelic wars.

  “Do you want us to stay? We could help,” I whispered, though I didn’t know why. The only people who could hear us were both out of it for the foreseeable future.

  Raphael was silent as he used the bone saw to cut away the kids mangled leg just below the knee. We worked quickly to seal off the blood vessels and nerves and sealing the wound with two flaps of skin.

  When it was over, Raphael wrapped the leg in dressings, but the kid still looked pale. Blood was being transfused, so he wasn’t that deathly white, but he wasn’t far off.

  “You didn’t use any angelic healing,” I said, trying, and probably failing, to keep the accusatory tone from my voice.

  “No. I’m not meant to be here, in an official capacity that is,” he said as he stripped off his blood-stained shirt and threw it in a pile in the corner. He slumped down on a wooden chair near the head of the impromptu operating table. “It’s all part of the plan. But it means I can only work with human medical advancements in a rather rudimentary setting. Still, I save as many as I can.” He closed his eyes against remembered horrors. “Make your request, Acerezeal. I need a nap.”

  I knelt at his feet. “We need you to put Arcadia’s soul back into her body. She doesn’t deserve her fate.”

  He stroked the hair from my forehead, so he could look into my eyes. “She would live a few more decades at most. With you, she could live for eternity. Is it so necessary to put her back in a failing body?” I nodded vehemently. He stroked a finger down his angular jaw. “Would you have me put Arcadia’s soul back at the expense of your own?”

  “Yes.”

  No! Arcadia shouted vehemently.

  Raphael smiled. “Michael was right. Your time with Arcadia did redeem you. I thought the Father must have been mistaken. But then, the Father does not make mistakes.”

  Memphis huffed. “Can you really mean that, with this going on around you?” He indicated the two sleeping boys and the sounds of gunfire and missile blasts in the background.

  The smile slipped from Raphael’s face. “I do mean that. At times, I don’t understand it, but there is a plan. I do what I can, and I must be okay with that.” He turned back to me. “I regret that that is also my answer. The Father has made it clear that the fate of your Arcadia is out of our hands. I’m sorry, truly.” He seemed genuinely remorseful, and that was the only thing that kept a cap on the simmering rage I felt in my gut. I knew the feeling of helplessness when your hands were tied.

  What will happen to the boys? Arcadia asked.

  Raphael smiled. “Michael was right about you too, Arcadia Jones.” He shook his head. “The boys have no family left. Adnan is only four, Nazir is twelve. They are two of many Syrian orphans that will be cared for by international aid foundations.”

  I could feel Arcadia’s refusal at that sentiment. The boys would not be one in a multitude of orphans, not if she had anyth
ing to do about it.

  Can Adnan be moved? Teleported or phased or whatever it is you guys do, back to the US? The guys will care for them, Eli will make sure Adnan gets the proper aftercare.

  Raphael smiled. “I hope Acerezeal is successful in the quest to return you to your body. The world needs more of you. I will arrange it, the proper legal way. If you are sure?”

  He needn’t have asked. The Seven would do anything for her, and despite their gruff ways, they were softies too. Except Oz. He didn’t even try to hide his gooey center. They’d love the boys and help them heal.

  I had my own healing to do first. “If you can’t help us, do you know of any way we can get Arcadia back to where she belongs?”

  Raphael was silent for a long moment, and the noise momentarily quieted. It felt like Aleppo was holding its breath, waiting for the answer too.

  “There are rumors of rituals that can temporarily move a soul from one body to another, but I do not know of anything permanent. The Father can do it of course, as can Michael. Gabriel will not, he is even more steadfast to God's word than I am. He disapproves of my actions here.” A tiny quirk of his brow said volumes about Raphael’s thoughts on that. “Uriel might be able to, but he would not do so easily.”

  I rolled my eyes. Uriel was an asshole. He was like Azriel, but worse. He’d been promoted when Lucifer fell, and he had a chip on his shoulder about being the booby prize ever since.

  “You know I can’t go to Michael.”

  Raphael nodded sadly. I could tell the rift in angelkind hurt the Archangel, but it was what it was. The universe needed balance. It needed the believers and the non-believers. It needs Angels and Demons. Those that follow and those that question.

  “Thanks, Raphael. If you need help with any of this,” I waved a hand around the room, with its overpowering stench of blood and antiseptic, “you only have to ask. We will come, won’t we Memphis?” I looked at my compatriot, this dark demon of German folklore, who was staring at two small orphans and bubbling with contained rage at the fate that befell them because of greed for power. I knew that's what he was thinking, because that consuming need for vengeance burned in me too.