Balance (The Divine, Book One)

by M. R. Forbes

  "Is it so hard to believe father, that I would try to heal an injured angel?"

  My voice was rising, and he put his finger to his lips to shush me, motioning with his eyes to the few scattered people kneeling behind the church pews.

  "Actually boy-o, it is," he said.

  He grabbed my arm and pulled me off to the left, through a door and into his private office. He closed the door behind us, then let go of my arm and reinstated his direct glare. "Look here laddie, it takes at least three seraph to take down a Great Were on a good day. Ye're saying ye helped one seraph do it, and not only did ye win, but the angel survived?”

  I hadn’t known what we were fighting, and now I realized that was probably a good thing. If I had thought about how powerful it really was I probably would never have made my kamikaze move against it.

  “That’s right,” I said. “Although, I can’t be too sure about the part where she survives unless you decide to help me. I would think you would be eager to see one of yours back to good health.”

  “It’s not a matter of what I want boy-o, it’s a matter of trust. Do ye even understand what ye are? Ye don't have a side but fer yerself. Ye can cross back and forth on a whim. Ye can employ all manner of trickery and deceit to meet yer aims, and only the most astute of the Divine will even have an idea they’re bein’ double-crossed. Ye can cause all sorts of mayhem, discord, destruction for no other reason than because it suits ye, all while smellin’ like roses and gettin’ all the blessins’ of Heaven."

  His face was turning beet red, and his anger was growing beyond reason. Without thinking, my hand shot forward and wrapped around his neck. His eyes widened in surprise, and he stopped talking.

  "Listen to me Father," I said then, my own anger stewing. "My aim is only to heal the angel. She saved my life, and I intend to return the favor. Don't make it at the expense of your own."

  I let go of him then, drawing back in a shock of my own at the violent outburst. I had never been like this before. A wave of guilt washed over me.

  "I'm sorry Father," I said, lowering my head. "I'm pretty new at this gig, but the one thing I know is that I'm not your enemy." I turned to leave.

  "Wait," he said, rubbing his neck with his hand. I looked back at him, feeling doubly foolish for almost choking him to death. "Why do ye think the seraph survived?"

  I hadn't expected the question, especially after what I had just done. "Excuse me, father?"

  "A Great Were can kill an angel with one blow,” he said. “Why didn't he?"

  I didn't know enough about weres of any kind to know the injury was uncommon. I told him about the fight. I gave him all the details. When I was done, he took the wine bottle and left the room. When he returned, he blessed it himself. He didn't speak again until he handed it back.

  "He was gloatin’," he told me then. "He let the angel run him through so he could do it, and made straight sure not to kill her with his first cut. He didn't know what ye were. He didn't expect ye to recover. Ye got lucky killin’ him." He walked over and held out the bottle. "I don't like ye laddie, and I don't like yer kind or whom ya be workin’ fer, but if helping ye helps a seraph, I'll do it this once. Darker days are comin’ when a demon lets himself be stabbed, and Lord knows we need all the help we can get. Now go, and don't ever show yer face in my church again."

  Chapter 7

  Josette was still unconscious when I returned to my room at the Belmont. The bedding under her was red with her blood, still running out through the wounds on her face and chest. I didn't know how much blood an angel could lose, but judging by the coolness of her forehead and the shallowness of her breathing, it couldn't be much more.

  As I stripped off her shredded clothes so I could treat the wounds, I had to remind myself that even though she appeared to be in a child’s body, Josette was not a child. Even so, it felt so wrong to be undressing her this way, but I had no other choice. Her flesh underneath was pale grey, and the same lines of black veins that I had seen on her face were also spreading from the cuts on her body.

  The linens were already ruined, so I used the sword to cut out strips of cloth, dipped them in the holy water, and placed them over the gashes. The affected areas hissed and steamed as I did so, causing Josette to let out a soft moan and the familiar scent of frankincense to fill the room. Almost immediately some of the color began returning to her skin, and I could see the black lines receding from under the edges of the cloths. I went over to one of the empty hotel rooms to get a sheet to lay over her, then grabbed the box for the iPad and sat down at the side of the bed.

  I slid the device out of the box and turned it on, then kept my eyes on Josette while it booted up. The cut on her face was super deep, and had taken two cloths dipped in the holy water before it had stopped bleeding. I wasn't sure if it would ever heal completely. Otherwise, she was looking a lot better already, her face flushing as the blood returned to it.

  Wi-Fi was pretty ubiquitous in Manhattan, and I didn't have any trouble finding an open connection I could leech off of. I started with the basics. I typed 'how to kill a demon' into Google and hit enter. It didn’t surprise me that all of the results were filled with media fed, superstition based thoughts on destroying evil beings, without a hint of truth to any of them. Holy water, wooden stakes, garlic, blah, blah, blah. I hadn't thought I would come up with anything there. I needed better sources.

  At the height of my illicit dealings in credit card numbers, I had belonged to a message board called 'SamChan', so named after Samuel L. Jackson, motherf**cker. If anyone knew anything real about the war between angels and demons, I could probably get a line to them there. The channel was filled with all types of hackers, crackers, conspiracy theorists, and other assorted societal chafe that would buy and sell any data they could get their hands on. I wasn't too sure I should try to use my old account, but getting access wasn't as simple as entering an e-mail address and password. If anyone noticed they'd probably think my credentials had been compromised, which would result in a good laugh for all involved. That was assuming my account was still active. It was.

  I was eyeball deep in a thread posted by a guy who was looking to sell or trade a video he claimed was of a real vampire when Josette woke up. I wasn't looking at her at the time, but I could just feel her presence change. It reminded me of a butterfly bursting from a cocoon - one moment there was this ugly emptiness, the next a fullness of spirit and beauty that caught me off guard. When I turned my head to check on her, her golden eyes were open and alight with an internal sparkle, and she was smiling at me.

  "Thank you," she said. I hadn't known what to expect, but gratefulness was a good start.

  "I should be thanking you," I told her. "If you hadn't tossed me your sword, we'd both be dead right now. How do you feel?"

  She took a moment, shifting in the bed a little bit. "The poison has been purged. The wounds are healing, but I still feel a little weak. Why did you save me?"

  "Like I said, you saved my life."

  She shook her head. "I saved my life, diuscrucis. You may have benefitted from that, but it was not an act of benevolence."

  No, I suppose it wasn't. Had I really thought she was doing me a favor?

  "Whether it was intentional or not, you did. Look, whatever you think of me, I'm not a bad guy. I'm just trying to make sure that mankind is allowed to govern its own future. Letting you die would have been a negative on the scorecard, and besides I don't think you deserved to go like that."

  Her eyes turned thoughtful, the sparkle shifting inwards.

  "You must understand, Landon,” she said. “This isn't about whether or not you are a nice guy. This war has been going on for thousands of years, and now after spending centuries gaining ground we are beginning to lose, and badly. There was another who came here making the same claims as you. She earned our trust and respect even as our enemy. She fought against us, and she fought with us, but we believed she would never seek to deceive. We were wrong."

  "You m
ean Charis?” I asked.

  The name kept coming up. Was she the reason my inception here felt like such a disaster?

  Josette nodded. "She used our trust to trick us, then gave us up to Reyzl. She knew the outcome would shift the tide of the war, would go against everything she claimed to be fighting for. She said we didn't understand the bigger picture. We lost a dozen angels and countless mortal allies in the nights that followed."

  As she spoke, tears began rolling down her face. She winced in pain as one slid under the bandage and touched the wound there.

  "What happened to her?" I asked. Dante had said she was gone. He hadn’t bothered to mention that she was a traitor. Why not?

  "She disappeared,” Josette said. “We have heard that Reyzl double-crossed her, and stabbed her in the back while she was enjoying the fruits of her betrayal."

  I was being racially profiled, except as far as I knew there were only two of us. It figured this Charis had to go and ruin it for me.

  “We may have similar bloodlines, but we’re not the same person,” I said.

  "It is unjust I agree,” she replied, “but you must consider our perspective. Unlike demons, it is very difficult to replace a lost seraph. Heaven is a wondrous place, and few enough are willing to give it up to fight a war that has no definitive end. To lose so many in such a short time was an event that none of us can bear to see repeated. So we do not trust those who are not of our kind, and we forbid alliances because the gain of an ally cannot compare to the potential devastation that could follow."

  She put her hand on the sheet to hold it in place and sat up. When she dropped the sheet, she was wearing a white leather raincoat over a plain white blouse. A large diamond cross hung from her neck. She reached up with small, delicate fingers and pulled the bandage from her face. As I had feared, the wound had left a thin black scar along her snow-white cheek. She ran her finger over it, her eyes dimming in sadness.

  "I should have known it was a trick," she said. "I have to go. You have my gratitude for saving my life."

  She moved to head for the door, but without thinking, I stopped her. I put my hand to her face, surprised by how small and soft it was in my hand. She didn't resist my touch.

  "We both should have died today," I said, looking her in the eyes. "We got lucky. I won't keep getting lucky forever."

  Her lips were trembling as she waited to hear me out, and to see what I intended to do with her. Her wounds might have been healed but I could tell she was still weak.

  "If you can’t or won’t be my ally because of your laws, I can accept that,” I said. “But please don't leave without giving me the one thing that can help us both stop this war from being won by the demons."

  "Wh...What is that?" she asked. Her voice was soft, scared.

  I didn't know if it would work, but I had to try. I focused my will on my hand the way I had focused on the air to make it rain. I tried to feel the damage to her face, to pick out every molecule of imperfection that was marring the otherwise flawless surface. I ordered the damaged cells to disconnect, pulling the remaining demonic filth into my own body, and removing it from hers. She shook as I did it, her eyes glowing brightly in surprise.

  "Knowledge," I said, pulling my hand away.

  With the dirty tissue cleaned she healed without obstruction, and in moments the scar was gone.

  She stared at me then for what seemed like ages. Her eyes were locked on mine, and she was still as a statue. Her breathing evened out and her face flushed red. I could feel the tension between us while I waited for her to decide what to do.

  "Very well diuscrucis,” she said. “You saved my life, so I will try to help you. Know that we are not allies, and never shall be. I am simply repaying my debt, which is well within the tenets of our laws."

  She smiled then, a big, wild smile that told me she had made up her mind, that she was throwing her caution to the wind, and that she still didn't trust that I wouldn't crush her with it. It was the kind of smile that comes from the strength of willful disobedience and the underlying fear of the consequences.

  "Now, grab your sword and follow me to the roof,” she said. “I shall call this class Demon Fighting One-o-one."

  I went over to where my sword was resting by the window. I noticed it was dark outside. "Josette," I said, remembering Dante's rules.

  She bounced over to where I was standing. Her whole demeanor had changed, and she looked a lot more like a fourteen-year-old girl to me. She peered out the window.

  "What is it?" she asked.

  "It's dark out," I told her.

  "Yes," she agreed. "The sun has in fact set." She stepped back and looked at me, her brow furrowing inward. "You destroyed a Great Were, and you are fearful of the dark?"

  I could feel the heat of my flush rise up through my cheeks. "Dan..."

  "Do not," she cried out, interrupting me. When she was sure I was done talking, she lowered her voice. "Do not say his name." Serious Josette had returned.

  "Why not?" I asked her.

  "He is the only person ever to volunteer to leave Heaven for the Middle realm,” she explained. “His name is to be forgotten and unwrought for all time, as is that of his servant. That is our law. It is the only law that both Heaven and Hell have ever agreed to. If you absolutely must make reference, he is known as the Outcast."

  Wow, that was a lot of hate. I could understand why Heaven may have been cross with him, but what had he done in Hell to cause such disdain?

  "How old are you anyway?" I asked Josette, trying to turn the conversation away from things she wasn't allowed to mention.

  The seriousness faded, and the adolescent exuberance sprang back into view. "That is your non-sequitor, Landon?"

  The way she giggled changed her from plain to almost pretty. My face flushed again. Everything I said was making me feel dumber and dumber.

  "I know you aren't fourteen." It was all I could think of to say.

  She laughed louder. "You are concerned about this physical manifestation?"

  "I'm more concerned about having undressed your physical manifestation,” I said. “I’m sorry for that, by the way. I didn’t have any other choice."

  It was her turn to be embarrassed. It seemed she hadn't realized the efforts I had to go to in order to heal her.

  "Do not fear Landon, I have been a member of the Order of Seraph for over seven hundred years. I did die as a young lady, and have chosen to remain that way because I find it comfortable and familiar. The same goes for the underlying personality, although I do find it increasingly difficult at times to hold onto the joy and innocence of youth."

  Seven hundred years? So much she had seen and done; centuries of war and fighting and killing. Did she regret her decision to become an angel? I didn't ask, for fear of spoiling her mood before she had taught me anything.

  "Well then grandma,” I said. “Let’s hit the roof."

  The rain had stopped some time earlier, but the roof was still slick from the downpour, and the dropping temperature was already turning it into a sheet of black ice. My footing was unsteady, and I was shivering from the cold as we walked out towards the center of the rooftop. Josette didn't seem to notice it at all, her knee high white boots moving her effortlessly across the surface despite their four-inch heels. When we reached the center, she materialized her own sword and held it up in front of me. She noticed how much I was shaking and cocked her head to the side.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “It’s freezing out here,” I told her, crossing my arms and rubbing my shoulders. I guess I could have changed my shirt into a parka, but I had never seen any movies where the samurai wore heavy, puffy coats.

  Josette laughed at me again. “Landon, you are Awake. Divine. You do not need to feel cold unless you choose to.“

  “You make it sound so simple,” I said through chattering teeth.

  “Your human mind believes you should be cold, and so you are,” she said. “Don’t listen to it. That is
lesson number one.”

  Don’t listen to it. Right. Don’t listen to it. I tried to distract myself from the cold. I imagined being on a beach in Florida, feeling the warm sun on my face. For a moment, I almost thought I might not feel cold. No, I did. It was freezing.

  “Can’t do it,” I said.

  The sword vanished again, and Josette walked over to where I was standing. She took my face in her hands and pulled me down so I was at eye level with her.

  “You are standing on a rooftop, with your face three inches from an angel,” she said. “In the last six hours you killed a powerful demon, and swallowed its soul. You also healed from wounds that would kill any mortal. Now, tell me why you are cold.”

  While she spoke, her golden eyes sparkled as though they contained all of time and space. She was using logic on me, and I was falling for it. I took a deep breath and nodded. She broke her gaze and stepped back.

  “Well?” she asked.

  I bent down and put my hand on the icy cement. I could feel the sensation of the freezing surface in my fingers, but it didn’t make me feel cold. Cold was a mortal sensation, and I was no longer mortal.

  “I’m ready now,” I said, standing back up.

  Josette smiled and her sword reappeared in her hand.

  "How do you do that?" I asked her. It would make moving around a lot easier to not have to manage the four-foot long blade.

  "Sorry Landon," she replied. "You have your own abilities, but that isn't one of them."

  "Why not?" I asked.

  She rolled her eyes, making me feel dumb again.

  "Excuse me miss seven-hundred-year-old-seraph, “ I said, “but I've never been to the School for the Divine."

  She giggled again and dismissed her weapon.

  "Okay, I guess I need to give you at least a tiny bit of background before I start beating your brains in," she said, kneeling down and motioning for me to join her. "Most people talk about Heaven and Hell as if one is up there in the sky, and the other is somewhere near the core of the Earth."