Eternity

by Heather Terrell

  I took a good, hard look at Rafe. Inexplicably, he was calm and smiling. What had happened? When had he stumbled onto this scene? I assumed that he’d seen something of the aerial fight, so why wasn’t he freaked out by what he’d observed?

  His tone tranquil and his face composed, he answered me. “I could tell you that it was coincidence. That I happened to be strolling down the streets of Tillinghast in the hopes of bumping into you after the game and found you under attack.”

  Even though his expression didn’t look ominous, there was something unnerving in his even-keeled tone. Something I recognized enough to make me scared. He hadn’t stumbled onto the scene. What role had he played in it?

  “That wouldn’t be true, would it?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

  “No, Ellspeth. That wouldn’t be true. It would be a lie. And I think you know how I feel about lies.”

  Ellspeth. Why was Rafe calling me Ellspeth? He only knew me as Ellie. I rarely shared my full name with anyone.

  The pieces were starting to come together, and my fears were mounting. Had I escaped one threat only to land smack-dab in the middle of another? I started to back away from him. Slowly.

  “Are you one of them?” Silently, I prayed that Rafe was not another fallen, that he was a regular, run-of-the-mill stalker. A stalker, I could handle.

  “One of who?” he answered.

  Rafe moved toward me, just as slowly.

  “One of the fallen,” I said, as I continued my backward progress.

  “I’m not fallen, Ellspeth.”

  Unexpectedly, Rafe stopped walking toward me. Ever so slightly, he shook himself. The action was so unusual and startling that I stopped my retreat to watch. What on earth was he doing?

  A cloud of luminous particles were emitted from him. When it cleared, I saw a very different Rafe. It was as if he’d shaken all the scruffiness and roughness—all the humanity, really—off him. His hair was still chestnut brown, his features remained the same, and his eyes were still near black, but I almost didn’t recognize him. His face had become even more beautiful than before, nearly exquisite. He looked ageless, even divine.

  Then he gave me his disarming smile, and I saw the Rafe I knew.

  “Who are you? What are you?” I asked, after I shut my gaping mouth.

  “I’m an angel. My full name is Raphael.”

  “You’re a regular angel? From heaven?” I felt ridiculous even saying the words aloud.

  “Yes. An angel of His presence, to be more specific,” he answered, as if my question amused him. “That makes me one of the few angels permitted to stand before Him.”

  My head was spinning way too fast to pose more questions about the lofty-sounding “angel of His presence.” But I definitely needed to know one thing for certain. “What happened to Kael?”

  “He’s gone, Ellie.”

  “Gone for the moment, or gone forever?”

  “Gone forever.”

  “You killed him?” I asked slowly. While I was disgusted with myself for almost believing Kael’s line about joining forces so we could help save humankind, and loathed Kael for it, it felt wrong that he should be killed on my behalf.

  “No, Ellie. But he won’t come back for you again. I made sure of that.”

  Before I could ask Rafe exactly how he “made sure of that,” a very, very troubling thought occurred to me. “How can I be certain that you are not one of the fallen?”

  Rafe, or Raphael—I didn’t know what to call him, even in my own mind—stuck out his arm. “There’s only one way to be certain.”

  “Your blood?”

  “Yes.” He said very matter-of-factly.

  “Angels have blood?”

  He smiled. “We are all made in His image.”

  “You want me to drink your blood?” I was dumbfounded.

  “Only through my blood can you be certain of who I am.”

  “I don’t know, Rafe. I stole some flashes off you, and you seemed pretty normal in them. Maybe you can fake your blood too.”

  “It’s not possible, Ellspeth. Surely you know that.”

  I looked down at his muscled forearm, knowing he was right. Blood was too pure to fake, you couldn’t make blood lie.

  I shivered at the very thought of tasting his blood. What if he was fallen? Would he have some control over me if I ingested his blood? There were too many unknowns, plus I’d never bitten anyone other than Michael. The whole prospect felt like cheating on Michael.

  I knew that I had to do it. How else could I be certain that Rafe was an angel and not a fallen?

  Taking his arm in my hands, I closed my eyes and brought my lips to his skin. I bared my teeth and tried to bite down, but couldn’t. It felt all wrong.

  “Go ahead, Ellspeth. It’s okay,” Rafe said gently.

  Forcing myself to push past my fears, my teeth pierced his skin. The warm liquid rushed into my mouth. It tasted unlike anything I’d ever experienced. It transmitted a sensation unlike anything I’d ever felt. As his blood coursed through me, warmth and light pulsed through my body and mind and spirit. And peace. It felt like I’d tumbled down onto the softest feather bed in the world, and then fallen into the deepest, loveliest sleep. Sleep that I never, ever wanted to awaken from. I knew—without question—that I was experiencing divine peace.

  “Do you believe me?”

  “Yes, I do,” I answered groggily, as if waking from a dream. The sense of the divine lingered.

  “Good.”

  “Although, your blood didn’t tell me why you’re here.”

  “He gave me this job.”

  “Who’s he?”

  “The Maker, God, Yahweh, the Creator—whatever name you’d like to give to Him.” Rafe’s smile turned wry. For all his otherworldliness, he still bore that intangible, slightly mischievous quality that I first saw in the Tillinghast gymnasium, the quality I really liked.

  When I didn’t respond, he continued. “Although, until you meet Him in person, it’s hard to come up with the right name for Him. I see why humans have struggled with that. Anyway, He’s very different than He’s been described.”

  “What do you do for Him?”

  “I look after the earth and the spirits of all humankind.”

  “By participating in high school fund-raisers?” I blurted out, and then covered my mouth. I had forgotten I was speaking to an angel.

  Rafe did not take offense at my question. In fact, he seemed downright entertained by it.

  Then he reassembled his face into a serious expression and answered my question quite gravely. He clearly had a message to impart. “By making sure that you understand the importance of your role as the Elect One.”

  “That’s why you came here? For me?”

  “Yes, Ellspeth. I’ve been watching you since the day you were born, waiting to see if you would rise to your role. That’s probably why it’s so hard for me to call you by anything other than your birth name of Ellspeth. I’ve always thought of you by your full name. When the end days began, I decided to come to earth. To help you. Even though I haven’t walked on ground myself since the time of Noah.”

  My jaw dropped at his words. Again. “Since the time of Noah?”

  The amused smile disappeared from Rafe’s face, as he said, “Yes, Ellspeth. I was here when the first angels fell and when the first Nephilim were created. I was here in the beginning.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Rafe started his story as if he had always meant to share it with me. Although with Rafe, the word “always” took on entirely new meaning.

  “In the beginning of time, God sent two hundred angels to earth with a specific mission. He wanted them to guide humankind and to protect them from the threats on earth—and from their own souls,” Rafe said. The humor was completely gone from his face.

  His story sounded familiar. I had read bits and pieces of this tale before in Genesis and the Book of Enoch and the Book of Jubilees. Yet reading the words on a page was inc
redibly different than hearing them spoken aloud by an angel who had been there himself.

  “When the two hundred got here, led by the chief angel Samyaza, they found the human men and women to be incredibly beautiful. And why not? They were made in His image. They were luminous. And innocent.

  “That innocence made them irresistible to the angels. It brewed in the angels a desire to teach humans all their secrets. Secrets about the earth and themselves that God explicitly forbade them to share. He didn’t think his new creations were ready yet.

  “The angels defied Him. They taught humankind to read the stars and understand the cycles of the moon. Men and women were told how to farm and exploit the land. The angels revealed the use of currency and coin. Azaziel, one of the chief angels under Samyaza, dared to teach the most closely guarded secret of all.”

  “What was that?”

  “War. Azaziel educated men and women in the art of war.”

  “War? Why would angels even know about war?”

  “God has always given His creations a choice between light and dark, good and evil. Angels are no exception. When His creations go about making that choice, war breaks out. Azaziel became especially good at it. And fond of it.” Rafe uttered Azaziel’s name with particular distaste.

  Rafe’s story wasn’t quite over. “These two hundred angels enjoyed revealing these secrets to humankind. They found it to be heady and exhilarating—almost godlike. And they didn’t stop at that. They went even further.” He paused.

  “What did they do?” I asked the question to prompt him along, even though I thought I knew the answer. I needed to hear the whole story from Rafe. From someone who’d been there.

  “Remember that the angels found humans to be beautiful. They had relationships with human men and women. And, they had children with them. Half man, half angel. Nephilim.”

  “Like me.”

  “Like you. And not like you.” He smiled his old smile, and added, “No one is quite like you, Ellspeth.”

  Rafe inhaled deeply, and the humor faded. I could see that this next part of the story was difficult for him to share.

  “From above, my brother and sister angels watched this behavior of the two hundred. We were shocked by the angels’ flagrant disregard of God’s instructions. Who did they think they were, revealing His secrets? The secrets weren’t theirs to share. And how dare they procreate with humans?

  “But God did nothing.

  “I—along with Gabriel, Suriel, Michael, and Uriel—went to God. We pointed out the disobedience and the disrespect of the angels’ acts. Then we dared to ask Him, What was He planning to do?” Rafe paused, seemingly lost in his remembrances.

  He didn’t quickly resume. The pause grew so long that I finally decided to prompt him further. “What did God say?”

  “He asked if we thought they should be punished. When we answered yes, God asked us how. We suggested that He banish the two hundred to earth, to allow them their powers but forbid them access to heaven. God agreed, and of His own accord, went one step further. He wanted to teach the rebellious angels a lesson, and humankind along with them. He commanded the Flood to destroy all their followers and all their children.”

  “You and the other angels must have been relieved. He gave you what you asked for.”

  “Yes, at first. Quickly, however, we learned that the punishment didn’t have the effect we’d hoped for. The Dark Fallen—as we came to call them—didn’t feel remorse for their acts. Instead, they felt vengeful, because He had killed their children and taken away their ability to enter heaven. So as their means of revenge, they continued to disobey Him by continuing their forbidden activities.”

  “Do you regret the punishment you inflicted?” It felt unnatural asking an angel about his regrets. Yet that was what I thought I saw on Rafe’s face.

  “Yes, for its outcome and for its harshness. We were too severe. The Dark Fallen turned away from the light and power of God to celebrate themselves when they taught humankind and created the Nephilim. Their acts went against His teachings. But that’s not why I think that I was too harsh in my punishment of the fallen.”

  “Why do you think you were too strict with them?”

  Rafe took me by the hands and looked at me with his beautiful eyes. I couldn’t have broken away from his gaze if I’d wanted to. And I didn’t want to.

  “At first, I believed that the fallen acted solely from the sin of pride. Pride in their ability to teach and to create, like God. Pride in their own power and egos. I should have shown more compassion. Because I now understand how the fallen fell. It wasn’t pride alone. It was l—” He stopped himself.

  Abruptly he released my hands and backed away. “It doesn’t matter why the fallen fell, and how I feel about their punishment is unimportant. It’s old news now. Preventing the fallen from exacting their final vengeance, however, is critical. That is the destiny you share with Michael.”

  “I don’t think Michael is speaking to me right now.”

  “You must go to him and repair this rift between you. Only together can you stop the coming devastation.”

  I grabbed back one of his hands and asked, “Will you help me? Help us?”

  Rafe looked at me sadly and said, “I wish I could. I’ve already done far too much. I was only meant to observe. All I can do now is watch and pray.”

  “Please, Rafe. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to stop the end days. Michael is as ignorant as me.”

  “I don’t know, Ellspeth,” he said slowly.

  “Are you fearful that God will punish you for disobeying him? Like he punished the two hundred?”

  The mischief that I’d seen in his eyes before reappeared. “No, I’m pretty sure that I can talk Him out of that. This is definitely different.”

  “Then please, Rafe. Please help us.”

  He leaned toward me again and, for a fleeting moment, I wished he would kiss me. Until I reminded myself who he was and who I was.

  Instead, Rafe lightly caressed my cheek—more like a brother this time—and said, “Maybe I can do one last thing. . . .”

  Chapter Twenty

  I stood in the backyard outside Michael’s house, staring up at his bedroom window. I didn’t dare fly up to his room, even though there didn’t seem to be much reason to hide my powers anymore. Pretending to be normal hadn’t stopped the end days. Yet Rafe had asked that I refrain for a bit longer, and I couldn’t refuse the request of an angel.

  Instead, feeling like some kind of lovesick Shakespearean character, I threw a pebble at Michael’s window. His face instantly appeared through the glass. At first, he merely looked startled to see me. Then I saw anger and confusion pass across his face like a storm cloud. When I motioned for him to come outside, I feared that he’d refuse. But he didn’t; he left the window and headed downstairs.

  Michael stepped out onto his porch. Even in the darkness, I could see the sheen of his white-blond hair and the outline of his broad shoulders. In my mind’s eye, I filled in the details of his green eyes and sculpted arms and chest. I longed for him. I wanted my Michael back, the soul mate with whom I spent long nights flying and talking and kissing and sharing everything. Those nights were the happiest of my life, and now they seemed a lifetime away.

  I waited as Michael closed the back door quietly behind him. He hesitantly crossed the yard and approached the tree I stood under. Drawing near me, he still didn’t reach out to hug or kiss me as he usually did. The distance between us made me incredibly sad. It was depressing what had happened to our relationship over the course of a few short weeks.

  I was determined to put all this baffling discord behind us, and not only because Rafe asked me to. I had even vowed not to mention the infuriating use of his powers on the football field. Reaching out to embrace him, I said, “I’m sorry we fought.”

  Michael’s body stiffened at first. Slowly, I felt his body soften and then relent. He wrapped his arms around me. “Me too.”

  I luxuri
ated in the circle of his arms for a few long minutes. The yearning for Michael and his blood started to build, and I pulled back a tiny bit. Enough to study his eyes. I needed to make sure that my Michael inhabited them, not that scary automaton he’d become under Ezekiel’s influence or the withdrawn, confusing football player he’d become recently.

  I was relieved. In his incandescent green eyes, I saw only the Michael I loved.

  “I’m not sure what happened earlier today. I—” I started to say.

  Michael interrupted me. “I’m the one that’s been acting like a jerk. I’ve been so caught up in—”

  It was my turn to quiet him. I traced my finger over the curve of his full lips and said, “You don’t have to explain, Michael. We’ve both been caught up.”

  “Not like me, Ellie. I’ve been so wrapped up with football and Coach Samuel. More than ever before. Not like I was with Ezekiel—I promised you that would never happen again—but definitely distracted. I mean, I even allowed myself to stay after the game with the coach to run through plays, instead of meeting you and Ruth, even when I knew she had important news. Then I ignored your calls because I was still pissed that you made fun of me playing football.” He shook his head in disbelief at his own actions. “I have no excuse, only an apology.”

  Looking into the anguish and remorse on his face, I knew I’d been right not to chastise him for using his powers in the game. Michael was already beating himself up for his behavior; he didn’t need me to berate him also.

  I hugged him tighter, and said, “There is no need to apologize. Not anymore. We’re together again.”

  He squeezed me so hard that I could hardly breathe. “Thank God for that. So, what did Ruth say?”

  “A volcano on an island off the coast of Greenland is about to erupt, and—”

  “There are no volcanoes mentioned in Revelation,” he interjected.