“That’s the problem,” Michael interrupted. “To our knowledge, Satan never fraternized with the Nephilim because he considered them beneath him. But I have evidence they’re forming an alliance.”
“What evidence?” Raphael asked.
“The papers Allen Clark gave to me. There were old appointment logs documenting Jazema Grigori’s meetings. Twice a month, she met with a man named Luc Helton, and now, she only meets with him once a year. One log noted Mr. Helton acts on the behalf of Samuel Cross. When I saw that, I knew these men must be Satan and Lucifer. There were even financial records showing a connection, as technological assets from Geneloom were gifted to Mr. Cross, which might explain how Satan got hold of the tracker technology.”
“Was there anything else you discovered?” Gabriel asked.
“Not really. I delivered Allen’s papers to the authorities in New York shortly after he gave them to me, but they haven’t been able to stop the Nephilim.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“Well, they’re superhuman for one, and not in a good way. The Nephilim look like humans so they blend in, but they have the strength and aptitude of angels. This makes them super-efficient at evading human tactics. Publicly, they’re not doing anything illegal, which makes it difficult for the authorities to investigate them.”
“But surely all the evidence Allen gathered allowed them to make a case?” Uriel said.
Michael sighed. “It should have, but it went missing. Just like Allen. I imagine the Sentinel had something to do with that.”
Sensing his brother’s grief, Gabriel said, “Michael, there’s not much more you could have done. You listened to Allen. You did what he asked. It’s not your fault the Nephilim have some powerful, ruthless man working for them.”
“I know,” Michael said, “but I should have tried to stop him. The Sentinel, I mean.”
“Stopping the Sentinel seems impossible unless you’re prepared to do…well, you know, something you wouldn’t normally do.” Uriel was clearly hinting at some lethal act.
Outraged, Michael shot back, “You know I would never resort to such a thing.”
“Exactly, so stop beating yourself up.”
“Why would the Nephilim even start this operation in the first place?” I asked.
“Because they want to continue on their ancestors’ legacy, which was to procreate with humans. With modern technology and medical procedures, they have been able to do so synthetically,” Michael said.
“It’s still atrocious,” Chamuel cut in. “I know you said these patients gave consent, but it sounds like they were manipulated.”
Michael nodded. “I agree.”
“Surely not all the Nephilim are a part of this?” Raphael asked.
“No, but the majority of them. Those involved in this operation tell the tales of their ancestors and pass along the idea their duty is to achieve a pure form.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.
“The Watchers were angels, meaning they were heavenly and created of light energy,” Michael explained. “The Nephilim consider this a pure form because much of their species is now tainted by genetic abnormalities. For instance, they no longer have wings, and their angelic aptitudes are diminishing. The original Nephilim born of the Watchers all had angelic aptitudes because their fathers’ blood was so potent, but the Nephilim’s blood has been diluted over the years. That’s why Geneloom has been studying genetics and mutating genes, to learn how to recreate the old genetic markers.”
“I see.” I was overwhelmed by all this information. “And the women in charge are Nephilim?”
“I believe so.” Michael’s jaw tightened at the thought. “Which means they will not stop until they get what they want.”
“They obviously have doctors and scientists working for them, but how did they convince them to participate in their plan?” Jophiel asked.
“From what I can tell,” Michael said, “most of the human doctors and scientists don’t know about the operation’s true intentions. However, Geneloom tries to use Nephilim doctors and scientists as much as possible. Like I told you, they have blended into society, so the twenty-year-olds are going to college like any normal human. They’re learning the science and medicine they need in order to conduct these experiments.”
“These papers,” Jophiel said. “Do you still have them, other than the file you kept?”
“I gave the originals to the authorities and made copies for myself. In fact, I kept sending copies to the authorities, but they kept going missing, so I stopped. I have them with me now.”
“Good. I want to take a look at their research. Maybe I can figure something out, like a way to eradicate them completely. I’m no scientist, but it’s worth a try.” Jophiel shrugged.
“Sure, you can take a look. But I already know they haven’t been successful at finding a way to create their pure form.”
“How do you know that?” Chamuel asked.
“Well, Allen told me so, but also because they’re increasing their efforts to find the Watchers.”
“Wait, I thought you said God sent the Flood to destroy them?” I cut in.
“He did, but it didn’t work. The Flood eliminated all the Nephilim at the time and most of the Watchers, but three Watchers survived. I don’t know how they made it through that deluge—they must have hidden themselves. Centuries after the Flood, they resurfaced and started reproducing again, which is how the Nephilim are still among us today. Now, the Nephilim idolize these three and believe them to be their most powerful forefathers.
“Several years ago, Father somehow found these three Watchers and imprisoned them, but He couldn’t do anything about the Nephilim. Humankind was too far advanced, and another apocalyptic event would have sent the whole world back, so He had to let them be. I guess He thought they would eventually weaken since they keep mixing their genes with humans.
“Anyway, since their efforts with genetic testing are not proving successful, the Nephilim are trying to find the three remaining Watchers. They want to free them to restore their powerful legacy. I know they haven’t come far in their search because they believe the Book of Prophecies can tell them the location of their forefathers.”
“Does the Book of Prophecies contain such information?” Uriel asked. “I thought it only held prophecies.”
Zadkiel sighed. “The Book of Prophecies is a complicated tome of divine wisdoms. Its primary purpose is to hold prophecies, but Father told us other information is also contained within. It’s quite possible the location of the Watchers is documented in there.”
“Is this where Satan comes in?” I asked. All this talk of power seemed similar to his aims.
“Not exactly. Satan isn’t involved in their operation or their efforts to find the Watchers.”
“Then, how did their relationship originate?” Gabriel asked.
“I’m not entirely sure. All I know is that since Satan has been trapped in Hell, he’s needed someone to provide him with information. The Six can only do so much. They don’t have the human connections the Nephilim do.”
“You mean, the dark and crooked ones?” I confirmed.
Michael nodded.
“So, Satan is using the Nephilim to give him information?” Chamuel asked.
“Precisely.”
“If Satan’s getting information, what are the Nephilim getting in return?” Raphael asked.
Michael shrugged. “Favor…trust…even more power. Who really knows?”
“In essence, they’re forming an alliance, much like Michael predicted,” Zadkiel said.
“Yes, but for what?” Chamuel wondered. “I understand they can feed off one another, but to what gain?”
The conclusion seemed clear. “War.” I stared blankly ahead as the word left my mouth.
They all focused on me.
“That backpack,” I said, pointing to the tattered bag on top of the kitchen table, “is what everyone is chasing after. If the Book o
f Prophecies is in there, it’s needed in order to fulfill everyone’s end game. And Zadkiel said it caused a war once—why not start one again, but on Earth this time?”
“The kid has a point. They could be forming an alliance not only for what they can get from each other, but to create an army with even more power than the one that struck us in Heaven,” Uriel said with a note of danger.
“What’s our next move then?” Raphael asked.
“About that…” I said, grabbing the angels’ attention. “I wanted to go find my friend. She’s the only one who might know where Sister Helen is, and if we can somehow get in contact with her, we might be able to warn her about Satan and find out some more answers. Specifically, about the key to open the backpack.”
“Jordan, I’m not sure that’s the best plan. Sister Helen said in her letter not to go looking for her, and I’m sure she knows Satan is still a threat,” Gabriel pointed out.
“I know, but how do you expect us to move on?” I realized “us” really meant “me.” Sister Helen was like my mother. Sophia was like a sister. I hadn’t heard from either of them in months, and it was driving me insane. Plus, knowing Sister Helen could be in danger meant I had to find her no matter what she wrote in that letter.
Before I could say anything else, Gabriel continued. “Besides, if you go to see your friend, you might unintentionally involve her in all this. The fallen are powerful. More powerful than any of us expected. There’s no telling what danger that might put her in.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but no words came out. I had no argument. I would never want to put Sophia in harm’s way.
“I see your point,” I managed eventually. “What is our next step then?”
“Opening that backpack,” Michael said.
“How do you suggest we do that?” Zadkiel asked.
“By force,” Uriel suggested, approaching the bag.
Jophiel was alarmed. “No! We can’t jeopardize damaging the lock. Whatever is inside might be stuck in there forever if we do that.”
“Then, what?” Uriel was exasperated.
“We find the key,” Gabriel said calmly.
“How?” I asked.
“By going to your house.”
“My house?” I didn’t understand. “You mean, the orphanage? It burnt down, Gabriel.”
“I mean the house your parents left you,” he clarified.
I grew silent. Seven pairs of expectant eyes watched me, trying to determine my reaction.
“Why should we go there?” I asked quietly.
“Sister Helen knew you would be able to open the backpack, but she didn’t give you the key. However, she did leave you the house key, so I wonder if she put the key to the lock there.”
Gabriel had a point. I chewed on my lip as he went on.
“Second, I don’t think we can stay here. There’s not enough room.”
“And the fallen don’t know about your house, so they won’t be able to find us,” Michael said. “I know Gabriel sanctified this place, but that’s not a foolproof plan.”
“Is this why you all want me to rest so much? So you can devise plans and talk about me behind my back?” I was upset, and I had every right to be. I trusted the angels. The fact they were scheming behind my back, especially about this, felt like a betrayal.
“Jordan, be reasonable. You know that’s not true,” Gabriel said.
“Really? You should know how hard this is for me, Gabriel.”
Quiet fell over the room. I wasn’t entirely sure why I was so hesitant to go to my family home. Deep down, I suspected it had to do with the memories hidden there, a history I had never been a part of. The house was a living reminder of the parents I had never known. Going there meant facing the life I was supposed to have. A life I buried long ago.
There was also a great deal of guilt involved. I was the reason for my mother’s death. I knew it was silly to blame myself, but I always had. As for my father, I had no idea how he died. All I knew was that my mother and I were robbed of his presence before I was even born.
Thinking about my parents made me realize how little I really knew about the beginning of my life. Most orphans at Holy Trinity had suffered from the same unknown, and in comparison, I was one of the fortunate ones. I had discovered who my parents were and now had access to all the things they had left behind. Going to the house might be uncomfortable, but it would deliver answers others weren’t so fortunate to have.
Coming to terms with Gabriel’s decision, I finally said, “Okay. We’ll go there.”
“You’re sure?” Gabriel asked. “I don’t want to upset you.”
“Really, it’s fine. I’m sorry for the way I reacted. It’s a touchy subject, that’s all. Besides, the sooner we settle in one place, the better off we’ll be. Information is being thrown around everywhere, but if we just had time to think things through logically, we might get ahead of the fallen rather than being two steps behind.”
“He has a point,” Uriel said.
Everyone nodded in agreement.
“All right then. We’ll leave the day after tomorrow,” Gabriel decided.
“Why not tomorrow?” Zadkiel asked.
“Because my car only fits four, maybe five people. We’ll need another vehicle to get us all to the house.”
“Then, it’s settled. Tomorrow, we’ll find another suitable vehicle, and the day after, we’ll leave for Jordan’s house,” Michael announced.
With the plans in place, the angels all found ways to keep busy—packing, cleaning up, watching the news, looking for places to buy a car. I retreated to the guest room before realizing I had absolutely no idea where my parents’ house was.
“Gabriel, where exactly are we going?”
“New York State,” he replied.
All my life, I’d never known I was so close to home.
33
Jordan
New York State, Present Day
It was a four-hour drive from the city to my house. I sat in the backseat of Gabriel’s Mercedes G-Class with Chamuel, and Zadkiel took the passenger seat. The others drove behind in a Ford Transit van that easily fit fifteen. Right now, it was full of luggage and four angels.
I was nervous and on-edge, struggling to hide my true emotions. Despite being grateful for everything, I still couldn’t wrap my head around the fact I was going to my parents’ house. It was located just outside Ithaca, New York, on Cayuga Lake. I didn’t expect a gated lakeside mansion, but sure enough, when we arrived, that was what stood before us.
Gabriel stopped the car in front of the gate and lowered his window to peer at the intercom. “Do you have a code?” he asked.
I stared at him. “You know Sister Helen only left a house key. There was no code.”
“Now what?” Chamuel asked with a sigh.
Gabriel reached out and pressed the large button, which apparently called the house. We all heard it ring. Tension was thick in the car as we waited for someone to answer.
The sound of a horn honking behind made me jump. I turned around to see the others clearly confused. It seemed Uriel’s impatience had triggered the horn, as Michael was pushing his arm away from the steering wheel.
Finally, the ringing stopped, and a woman’s breathless voice answered, “Hello? Can I help you?”
We were all so shocked, it took Gabriel a second to respond. “Yes… My name is Gabriel, and I have Jordan Conway here in the car with me. We were hoping you’d let us in.”
Silence.
“Ma’am, are you still there?”
“Let me see him,” came the abrupt reply.
When Gabriel gave me a look, I lowered my window and stuck my head out since we were obviously being watched by some hidden camera.
The call went dead.
“Excuse me? Hello?” he said into the intercom
A buzzing and the squeak of the front gates grabbed everyone’s attention.
Gabriel closed his window and put the car into drive, entering thr
ough the gates and continuing up the driveway. The others followed. As the enormous house came into full view, he made a slight right where the driveway turned into a roundabout and parked the car.
The others began to get out of their vehicle, but I remained motionless as the angels left Gabriel’s car. I stared through the window at the small decorative fountain in the center of the roundabout. No water ran through it because it was too cold. I fumbled the house key around in my coat pocket, unsure of how to proceed.
“Are we just going to stand here all evening?” I heard Uriel ask.
“Uriel, this is obviously very upsetting. He needs to do things at his own pace,” Chamuel chastised.
“I understand, but it’s freezing out here.”
Nerves swallowing the sound of whatever they said next, I slowly opened my door and stepped out of the car. Gravel crunched under my feet as I approached the front door. The small pebbles of rock gave way to concrete when I entered the round portico, the door itself tall and wooden with a black knocker. I swallowed the massive lump in my throat and reached for it, yet the door swiftly opened before me.
An older woman, her hair completely gray and her eyes crystal blue, stood on the other side. She wore trousers and a blouse with a brilliant light blue sweater. Her warm face and kind smile seemed so familiar.
Before I could speak, she raised a hand to her mouth and said, with tears in her eyes, “You look so much like them.”
“And you look like Sister Helen.”
She laughed. “I guess I should. I am her sister.”
I was shocked. “Sister Helen never told me she had a sister.”
“I bet she didn’t. Helen always was a secret-keeper.” The woman reached out her hand and smiled. “I’m Martha, the housekeeper.”
“Jordan,” I said, shaking her hand. “But I think you know that.”
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