“Anjali, we hereby invoke our right to protect the world from your tyranny and remove your head,” General Tabbris proclaimed loudly.
Gabriel pushed Marcus aside and stepped between her and Tabbris. “General, the order was to capture her and you have done that. She stopped the storm of her own free will. This is not necessary,” he declared forcefully.
“No, Gabriel, the order was to subdue her. The mortals will never be safe while she draws breath into her lungs. The only way to subdue a creature powerful enough to obliterate the world is to kill her,” Tabbris replied rationally.
“The law is not yours to interpret. She has been captured. You can leave now,” Gabriel sneered.
Anjali felt her power drain away and she lost her breath when Demyan applied more pressure to her chest. She couldn’t understand the anger in his eyes and his need to inflict more pain since she had not harmed him.
“You are hurting me!” she yelled. “I am bound! Get off me!”
“No,” Demyan snarled in her face while Tabbris and Gabriel continued to argue.
Michael approached Gabriel and put his hand out to calm his general. “General Tabbris, you have accomplished your task. Lord Gabriel is correct; we called for her capture. Anjali submitted to our request and stopped her attack. Now she will stand trial before the Council and answer for her crimes,” Michael replied stiffly.
“My crimes?” she screamed, still pinned under Demyan. She wanted to punch Michael in the mouth, but had no way of accomplishing the task.
Michael raised his eyebrow at her, but did not reply.
“Senior Swordsman Demyan and Warrior Farouk, secure the prisoner, and prepare her for transport,” Michael commanded while he motioned for Tabbris and Gabriel to follow him to the village. Tabbris appeared as if he wanted to argue, but nodded silently.
Lord Commander Vladimir stepped forward now that Michael had taken control of the situation. He puffed out his chest and motioned to the other warriors. “Join me in assisting the injured and helping to clear the pathways around the village!” he yelled.
She watched the warriors gather around the vile Vladimir and his holier-than-thou attitude. She had heard rumors that he was close to being stripped of his title for an incident a few weeks prior. Gabriel had mentioned something about Vladimir not working in the best interest of the mortals, but had not elaborated on what had happened.
Once Farouk had a firm hand on her, Demyan removed his knees from her chest and stood over her. She tried to stand up, but stopped when the pain in her leg overwhelmed her. The Celestial Bonds not only negated her power, but it also made her physically weak and tired. They enhanced any pain that the wearer experienced. The burn felt as if she had been stabbed a thousand times over. The worst part was that Farouk did not apologize for his mistake. He was confident in his course of action and was pleased that he had injured her.
Anjali glared at her guards and wanted to kick them for taking delight in seeing her bound and helpless. Unable to stomach their pride in a job well done, she reflected on Gabriel’s assessment of the mortals. If Gabriel could see the mortal’s love for God, why had she not see it? Why did her power only react to the sins they carried and not to the love they had in their hearts?
Gabriel had taught her about sins, but he did not understand how strongly she reacted to them. Though she may have been a bit rash in trying to start the prior Apocalypses, she did have her reasons. All she wanted to do was carry out God’s will and punish the mortals; instead, she was thwarted at every turn.
She needed to re-evaluate the situation. She would seek guidance from Gabriel and try to figure out where she had erred. After all, she did not want to disappoint God and destroy His creations without a sound reason. Unfortunately, God had told her that she was on her own when it came to ending the world. He said that He would not be strong enough to make the decision Himself, so He would rely on her judgement. Therein lay the problem. It seemed that she was not allowed to make the decision without the Celestial Warriors trying to stop her. Gabriel alone should have been sent to stop her if needed, not the warriors who were eager to take her head because they failed to understand the importance of her mission. They were too shortsighted to comprehend God’s plan, which was not her fault, though it was her problem. Why did everything have to be so confusing and complex?
Snapping her eyes up, she saw Demyan glaring at her. She could practically feel his hatred toward her, though she did not understand his hostility. If he were mortal, she could order her Predznak to tempt him since hatred and anger were his sins of choice. She vaguely wondered what he would do under Aeries’ temptation, especially since her Angel of Anger had once led the Celestial Warriors before the pathetic General Tabbris came crawling back from his failed mission of leading Hell alongside Lucifer and Hades and was demoted to Lord Commander. Demyan would more than likely buckle under the scrutiny of the Angel of Anger.
Farouk, however, was staring at her in a strange way that made her uncomfortable. Demyan was too engrossed in his fantasies of taking her head to notice Farouk’s irksome expression.
“Demyan, perhaps you can convince General Tabbris to allow us to bring the prisoner to Heaven immediately. The sooner she is in a cage, the happier I will be. I can handle the prisoner,” Farouk said, his expression quickly changing to disdain. “Even she cannot break free from the Celestial Bonds.”
Demyan contemplated Farouk’s suggestion for a moment. “Fine, I will go, as long as you believe that you can contain her.”
Farouk shrugged. “If she gives me any trouble, I will take her head. We have been given the order to subdue her by any means, so I will be justified in killing her if needed. Please hurry and retrieve the General so that we can leave.”
Demyan nodded to Farouk. He slowly picked his away across the fallen tree limbs and branches toward what remained of the village.
When Demyan was far enough away, Farouk took a step closer to her. “They hate you and will never accept what you are destined to do. You are an abomination, a mistake made by Father. Normally, we are not allowed to question Father’s orders or think ill of the creatures He has created aside from the Veteres, but you are the exception to that rule. You are nothing more than a murderer, Destroyer,” Farouk said, though his tone did not match his condemnation of her. Instead, he sounded excited.
Unnerved by his assessment of her, she tried to get to her feet, but still could not put any pressure on her leg. “You are not allowed to harm me. I am in your custody and the rules of engagement are clear. You cannot attack a prisoner who is bound,” she said quickly. She was not afraid of him, but she was worried that she would harm him if he decided to engage her in a fight. He was too eager to provoke her for some reason.
“I assure you, I can do whatever I want to you. There is nowhere for you to run and no one will believe anything you say,” he smiled wickedly.
Gabriel surveyed the devastation before him. It was heartbreaking to see, but in truth, it was no worse than the damage caused by any other terrible storm found in nature. The village could be rebuilt in time, but it was the death toll caused by the storm that Michael would take issue with. Three mortals, including the leader of the village, had perished during the evacuation. Anjali would be charged with their deaths unless he came up with a plausible defense.
Seeing Demyan approach, Gabriel ran to meet him afraid that something had happened to Anjali.
“Is there a problem, Senior Swordsman?” he asked, formally addressing Demyan.
“Your daughter is in custody, but we are worried that she will try to retaliate,” he replied coldly. “Do we have permission to take her to Heaven immediately?”
Gabriel was surprised by Demyan’s statement about Anjali wishing to retaliate, though his daughter did have a temper when it came to the warriors. Demyan did not appear to be afraid or nervous; instead, he was angry and bitter. Gabriel believed that Demyan would use any excuse to kill Anjali. A fight would certainly erupt if Demyan were al
lowed to be around his daughter for any length of time.
Unable to give the order for the warriors to return to Heaven with Anjali, he turned to search for Michael and Tabbris, who had traveled further into the village.
When he located Michael near the center of the village, he called out to him. “Lord Michael…,” he yelled, but he was cut off by a deafening sound.
Without thinking, Gabriel ran toward the remains of the forest where he had left Anjali. As he got closer, he slowed his pace. A new storm was raging, the likes of which he had never witnessed. He had felt the strength of Anjali’s power on more than one occasion, but this was far worse. He could practically feel her rage propelling the winds and hear her screams in the driving rain. He was trying to determine what could cause his daughter to unleash her power when he suddenly remembered that she was bound in Celestial Bonds. Unless Farouk had released her, there was no possible way for her power to create this storm. It was possible that a real storm had come over the mountains or that her power had somehow seeded the clouds and provoked the skies into opening up.
Pushing through the strange phenomenon, he saw Demyan to his right, braving the storm. Behind him where the voices of Michael and the others calling to him. They were seeking answers, just as he was. He held his breath and prayed that the bonds were still on his daughter. It would be her only defense for this odd occurrence.
“Anjali!” he shouted, hoping to hear her voice above the howling winds.
He almost cried when he did not hear her reply. His heart stopped when he considered the possibility that she was dead. With the bonds in place, she would be too weak to survive an attack by Farouk and too vulnerable to withstand a grave injury from the storm.
When Michael and Tabbris caught up with him, he snapped out of his nightmarish vision of Anjali dead on the ground and ran into the storm. He had to find her.
As quickly as the storm had started, it stopped. The leaves and grass in the air drifted quietly to the ground and joined the broken tree trunks from the first storm. This time, instead of finding his daughter standing alone, he saw someone laying on the ground in front of her. While he was relieved to see her alive and breathing, his celebration was cut short when he realized that Farouk was bleeding.
Michael was the first to reach Farouk’s side to aid him. Gabriel froze when he saw the staggering amount of blood on Farouk’s white toga. His gaze slowly moved to Farouk’s face where he found Farouk’s mouth open and his eyes glazed over. A second later, Gabriel acknowledged the chunk of wood protruding from Farouk’s chest, and nearly fell to his knees.
“He’s dead,” Michael said, confirming his theory and increasing his sense of dread.
“What have you done, Anjali?” Gabriel asked his daughter as he turned to look at her.
When she shrugged helplessly and held up her bound hands in front of her, he had trouble comprehending what had happened. It had been proven more than once that her power could not break through the bonds. The bonds were made from Father’s wrath, created to keep the enemies of Heaven from harming anyone.
He looked at his daughter and tried to make his addled brain come up with a viable argument. Regardless of the truth, he needed to make sure that Michael did not kill her on the spot.
“Lord Michael, it is tragic that Warrior Farouk died in the storm and you have my sympathy. He was a good warrior, brave and true. He should be returned to Heaven and mourned. I will escort my daughter to the Hall of Truth for questioning,” Gabriel said, attempting to sound authoritative instead of hollow and defeated. He kept his eyes on Anjali the entire time; unable to look at anyone else for fear that they would see through his calm demeanor and see his terror.
“My warrior is dead and that wicked creature killed him in cold blood! I want that appalling thing strung up from the nearest tree! I will not stand by any longer and condone this farce! I want justice!” Michael yelled.
Gabriel tucked away his fear and did what he did best—defend his daughter with every bit of his being. Summoning his confidence and drawing upon his vast knowledge of Michael, he constructed the perfect defense.
“Lord Michael, I know what you are thinking, but look at Anjali. Her hands are still bound. Nothing can penetrate the dampening abilities of the bonds, not even the Bringer of the Apocalypse. If she were able to use her power while in custody, she would have retaliated the first time you arrested her. As I recall, you threatened to take her head and had your sword in your hand, even though she was already bound. She was furious with you and called you all sorts of names. The two of you were face to face hurling insults at each other. Though she raised her arms to the sky to call upon her destructive nature, not one single raindrop fell from the sky. If she had not been able to summon her power to fight you then, how could she possibly create a storm such as this one? Sad as it is, it seems that Farouk died from a natural storm,” Gabriel said boldly as the explanation flowed across his tongue. He hated reminding Michael about his first confrontation with Anjali, but it would stand as proof that Anjali did not have access to her power.
The fury on Michael’s face was impressive, but Gabriel was not intimidated. He would fight Heaven and Hell to protect his daughter, his ward, his child. He would rather lose a thousand warriors than lose Anjali. No matter what it took, he would fight for her, even if she were found guilty. He loved her too much to see her killed by anyone.
Lord Commander Vladimir stepped forward to inspect Farouk’s body. “I hate to admit it, but the prisoner would not have enough strength to drive the wood through Farouk’s chest. I can see the shard poking out of his back. It would require great force to create this kind of damage. Without access to her strength or power, she would never be strong enough to kill him like this. I have been attacked by plenty of bound prisoners and none of them were strong enough to do this,” he said confidently.
Gabriel nodded his head, grateful there was a second voice defending Anjali. He moved closer and pressed Michael to listen to the Lord Commander. “It is a tragedy to be sure, but Vladimir is right. I have seen how weak Anjali is while wearing the bonds,” he said, motioning to his daughter who looked tired and frightened.
He noticed that her beautiful white dress was torn in multiple places and that she was bleeding from her arm and cheek. He went to her to clean the blood and elicit a small amount of sympathy for her. He kept a wary eye on Tabbris and prepared as many arguments as he could in the event that Tabbris spoke up.
When Michael did not immediately call for her head, Gabriel took a deep breath and relaxed a little.
“Senior Swordsman Demyan, please take Warrior Farouk back to Heaven, and inform the others that he has passed on. General Tabbris and Lord Commander Vladimir, take Anjali to the Hall of Truth to stand trial,” Michael commanded. The anger in his voice was apparent, but he refrained from expressing it.
Gabriel stepped aside and allowed the warriors to take Anjali away from him. She went along quietly as she stared down at the ground. She was surprisingly contrite, which worried him. If she had somehow managed to kill Farouk, her guilt might cause her to confess to any number of crimes. His vote would be invalidated during the trial because of his relationship with her, but it did not mean he had to remain silent. He had to find a way to convince the other Council Members that his daughter was innocent, or had killed Farouk by accident. If convicted of murder, she would be sentenced to death or sent to the Hall of Shadows for eternity. Part of him wanted the Council to take her head if he could not convince them that this was an accident because he could never bear to see the look of disappointment on her face if he failed her.
Chapter 2
October 1996, Santa Blanca, Brazil
The sun was setting in the small mountain town, casting long shadows through the city streets. Dressed in jeans and a dark blue T-shirt with a Mission Impossible logo stamped on it, Anjali pulled her long hair out of her face for the hundredth time. Though she was wearing a tight ponytail, the humidity was too much for her s
traight hair. Pieces of it clung to her face though she wasn’t sweating. She had tried to downplay her immortal features by hiding her bright blue eyes under dark sunglasses and her shiny black locks under Liam’s New York Giants baseball cap, yet the locals weren’t deterred. She had at least 16 proposals of marriage today alone.
She was pretending to be an American tourist with her beat up green backpack and a photo of her missing friend. She was searching the towns for Becky, her college roommate who had broken up with her boyfriend and gone on a vacation to discover herself. Sadly, she went missing a few weeks ago, so Anjali, under her alias Annie Blackwood, had jumped on a plane to find her. At least that was the sob story she was telling anyone who interacted with her. In truth, she was hunting the last Harpy in existence.
A month prior, Lucifer had come to her with a secret mission. He believed that Hades was colluding with an old ally named Celaeno. She was one of the three Harpies given to Hades by Zeus during his time moonlighting as a false god. Supposedly, all three Harpies had been killed, but Lucifer believed that Celaeno had survived with Hades’ help and had gone into hiding. Anjali assumed that Lucifer was being paranoid, but she decided to investigate nonetheless. If nothing else, she wanted to prove to Lucifer that the Harpy was dead so that he could end his obsession. She didn’t like the idea of possibly exonerating Hades in the process, but it needed to be done.
She and Derick had researched the Harpies and found that they were foul, ugly creatures who tortured and dragged people to Tartarus, the Greek version of the underworld, according to most of the legends. Other myths said that the Harpies preyed on the mortals and ate them. Hating the idea of having a Harpy running around the Mortal Realm eating people, she took her mission seriously, regardless of Lucifer’s presumed paranoia.
Focusing on news stories regarding strange abductions in the middle of the night, they searched the local myths of different countries. Derick had become a talented sleuth and found that his ghost hunting expertise extended to monster hunting. He worked diligently to locate towns that had a history of disappearances that spanned multiple years. When he came across tall tales of monsters terrorizing towns in South America over a period of 10 years, she knew where to start her search. It would have been easier to interrogate Hades and beat the truth out of him, but Lucifer was afraid that Hades would warn the Harpy that she was being hunted.
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