Angel's Breath: The Second Book of Fallen Angels

by Valmore Daniels

  I detected a flicker of anguish in Father Putnam’s eyes, and I saw his jaw clench. “I’m sorry for your friend. It is unfortunate that in the war against evil, innocents must suffer.”

  “Unfortunate?” I asked, and I could feel myself growing angry. I wasn’t here for that, though, and I forced my emotions down. However much I wanted to test the power of the creature inside me against this zealot, I needed answers. Until I got what I came for, I had to keep calm.

  “Did you know that in the past two years, I have performed more exorcisms in this country than have been performed in the twenty years before that by all exorcists combined?”

  I asked, “Then why didn’t you perform an exorcism on me and send the demon back to hell? Why try to bind it?”

  “Demon?” He offered me a placating smile. “There are many kinds of demons. Most evil spirits are minor creatures, with very little real power. When banished, those can be sent back to the pit, because that is where they came from.”

  The smile on his face disappeared, and he took on a grave look. “It is not a demon who has possessed you. It is a fallen angel. They cannot be sent to hell—that was never their place of origin. God banished them from heaven, and Satan does not trust them, for they were once his brothers and sisters, and might usurp his power. If I performed an exorcism on you—or if you died—the fallen angel inside you would follow your bloodlines to find another host.”

  “Bloodlines?” I said.

  “Yes.” Father Putnam nodded. “Their sin was to mix with humans, and they were cast out of Heaven; they can only exist by hiding within their descendants. For centuries, they remained in the shadows, rarely showing their power.

  “For the past few years,” he continued, “there has been a rise in activity by the fallen. Their boldness has spurred on many of the lesser demons. I’ve received a dozen reports of possessions in the last month alone. My colleagues believe the fallen angels may be recruiting the demons to their cause, bringing chaos to the world.”

  “What cause?”

  He shook his head. “We don’t know, but if we can contain the fallen who possessed you, maybe we can find out. Make no mistake, Richard, we are at war. The ultimate battle against evil has begun.”

  His words sounded crazy, but with everything that had happened over the past few days, I had to accept that much of what he said was the truth. Not only was I possessed, but millennia ago, one of my ancestors had lain with an angel…

  I had angel blood running through me…

  It was a lot of information to absorb, and it felt as if I were in a dream, or a nightmare that I couldn’t wake up from.

  “Does it have a name?” I asked.

  “Most assuredly,” Father Putnam said. “Once I make it reveal its name to me, then we will have a weapon against it. If you would come with me, and let me perform the exorcism—”

  “Come with you?” I glared at the priest. “To David?”

  “Yes.”

  “How can you explain working with him? You said I wasn’t evil, but you must know that if David was possessed, he would not control the power. He would unleash it on the world for his own gain.”

  Father Putnam nodded, as if expecting the question. “We need to root out all the fallen angels. David Matheson has many resources, and he will be motivated to help us track down and contain every fallen angel in the world.”

  “I thought the Vatican was rich—”

  He gave me a tired look. “The Vatican knows nothing of this, and they never can. They are accountable for where it spends its money. If word ever got out about what is happening in the world, there would be widespread panic. Our job would be impossible, then.”

  “Let me get this straight,” I said, drawing my words out. “Your idea of helping me is to exorcise the fallen angel out of me, and send it into David?”

  “Yes.” He nodded, his smile widening. “You would be rid of it, and all responsibility for it. You could live the rest of your life without burden.”

  “That’s where you are wrong. It would be a burden,” I said, “on my conscience; something you obviously don’t have.”

  His expression darkening, he said, “I will do whatever needs to be done to rid the world of evil.”

  “Me, too,” I said in a snarling voice, “starting with David. Tell me where he is. Where did he take Darcy? Where were you planning to perform this perversion of an exorcism on us?”

  It was only then that I realized Father Putnam had been inching his way closer to the stoup of holy water, positioning it directly between us.

  “In the name of the Lord, be gone, unclean spirit!” he shouted, and gave the stoup a shove hard enough for it to tip over, spilling its entire contents on the front of my pants.

  When I had dipped my fingers in the holy water before, it had left me unharmed. Now, with the force of the priest’s faith and conviction, the holy water held power.

  The fallen angel inside me surged forward to do battle but that very act turned the holy water into a weapon. The water felt like battery acid as it washed over me and bathed me in pain. I screamed and fell back, clutching my legs.

  By the time the agony in my legs subsided long enough for me to get back on my feet, Father Putnam had run from the chapel back into his side office.

  Slowly at first, then gaining speed as the effects of the holy water attack faded, I went after him. Inside the office, I saw a large window wide open, and raced to it.

  I leaned out, and looked in both directions, but could not see any sign of the fleeing priest.

  I crawled out of the window and gathered air beneath me, and flew up off the ground until I was just above the top of the church roof. Looking in all directions, I couldn’t see where Father Putnam had gone.

  Conscious that I was out in the open, and anyone on the street would see me floating thirty feet above ground, I lowered myself and I went back into the chapel.

  I found my way to the front pew and sat down, straining my mind to think what my next step was going to be.

  The priest had told me that I wasn’t evil. If I was honest, I could admit that I might be misguided, and maybe a victim of my own poor decision-making. In my entire life, I had never felt like I was truly bad. Even after all the destruction I had caused, I still believed I was mostly good.

  The pain from the water proved that the fallen angel was vulnerable. What it did not prove was that it was inherently evil. After all, Father Putnam had said it was unwelcome in hell.

  Maybe the fallen angel was more like me than everyone thought; maybe it was simply misguided…

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  I waited in the pew for several minutes until I realized how stupid I was.

  Cursing myself, I went back into the priest’s office, to his desk, and searched for any clues to where he was supposed to meet David. I didn’t learn about his location, but I did find two interesting things.

  The first was the priest’s cell phone. I quickly checked his call history and his text messages. The only one that stood out was a message sent this morning. The name of the recipient was ‘Miles’. The number had an unfamiliar area code.

  Father Putnam had sent: Got lucky. Bagged 2.

  There was a reply from Miles.

  Have lead on a third. Will update l8r.

  I stared at the two messages. On impulse, I sent a reply back.

  Lost one. We need to meet.

  My pulse raced as I waited for a response. I really had no idea if the two messages had anything to do with Darcy and me, but if not, they were suspiciously coincidental.

  Twenty seconds later, the cell phone buzzed, indicated a new message waiting.

  I opened it.

  Your prepaid balance is $0.00. Please purchase additional minutes using any of the following options…

  Cursing, I picked up the land phone on the priest’s desk and dialed Miles’ number.

  “The number you have dialed is no longer in service…”

  Slamming the phon
e down, I picked up the second item of interest I had found in Father Putnam’s office: a molded car key. I had no idea where to look for Darcy, but I couldn’t afford to be spotted flying around Seattle. Eventually, someone would notice that.

  I left the church and started to circle the block, looking for parking lots. Clicking the ‘lock’ and ‘unlock’ buttons on the key, soon I heard the sound of a chirp, and headed toward a silver sedan parked in a space behind the office building.

  Getting in, I started the engine. Before I put it in gear, I did a quick search. Under the seats, I found a chocolate bar wrapper, an empty coffee cup, and an umbrella. Looking in the glove compartment, I hoped I would get lucky and find a map, but all that was there was a Bible, a rosary, and the vehicle owner manuals.

  Between the car seats, I noticed a flip-out door with a small cubby. When I opened it, I thought I had struck gold. There were a dozen gas receipts.

  My anticipation getting the better of me, I went through them quickly, but disappointment crashed down when I realized they were all to the same gas station. The address was on the same street as the church. Another dead end.

  I closed the cubby with a snap, and then slammed the glove compartment door. A part of the rosary had slid out far enough that it blocked the latch, and the compartment fell open again.

  I pushed the rosary back out of the way, and was about to close the compartment again when I noticed that the Bible had also slid across the car manual. Between them was a slip of paper.

  Someone had written ‘E on 530’ on the paper.

  Pulling it out, I stared at the words for almost a full minute before I realized what they were.

  If I had taken the time to think things through, I would have figured out where David was going hours ago.

  * * *

  Navigating through Seattle during rush hour was bad enough when you were trying to get home; when you knew someone’s life might hang in the balance if you took too long, the drive became heart stopping.

  The last thing I wanted was to be stopped for speeding or reckless driving, but I pushed my luck as far as I could. Some of the yellow lights I went through were so stale you could taste them.

  I didn’t want to risk flying until I was out of the city; less chance of being spotted. I had already pushed my luck by flying to my house. Once I was north of the city, I knew there were far fewer watching eyes. Many other drivers felt the same way, and it was more conspicuous to drive the limit than to speed.

  I watched for a turnoff that would lead me far enough away from prying eyes that I could fly the rest of the way. I tried not to think about the fact that I could have already been there if I hadn’t been so dense.

  David had practically screamed the location to me. He said his father had torn their old abandoned barn to shreds in one of his attempts to release the pressure on his power. He had told Nick to drive back to the farm. He would certainly assume I would figure it out. That’s where he would keep Darcy, and use her as bait.

  The Mathesons owned a section of land few miles off Highway 530, halfway between Seattle and the Canadian border.

  There was a private airport twenty minutes east of Arlington, and the Mathesons’ land was a few miles north of that.

  A few months ago, Worldwind had held a company picnic out there. A few of the pilots had offered to fly some of the employees there, saving them the two-hour drive from Kingsway Airfield. I, of course, drove out with my mother—this was after my unfortunate experience with the jet.

  I remember someone saying the property had been a dairy farm at one time. Terrence Matheson had bought the land and converted it to a weekend retreat; he planned to renovate some of the barns into guest houses.

  Unless I was terribly wrong, David had planned to perform his ritual on me out there, where he would have complete privacy.

  If he had managed to find Darcy’s relative, then she would be exorcised instead of me. I had no idea how much time I had, or if I was already too late.

  I was so busy chastising myself, I drifted into another lane and nearly sideswiped a truck. I jerked the wheel away and jammed the brakes hard, and I went into a skid on the wet pavement.

  When I got the car back under control, I pulled over to the side of the highway and took a moment to catch my breath.

  A vehicle slowed down, and the driver stuck his head out the window. “Are you all right, buddy?”

  I waved him off. “Yeah. Thanks.”

  “Want me to call for help?”

  Trying to hide my sudden panic at the idea, I said, “No, I’m fine. Thank you. Just shaken up a bit.”

  He gave me a quick wave, and continued on his way.

  The longer I lingered, the better the chance of someone else stopping to ask questions.

  I put the priest’s car back in gear and drove at a steady clip. Once I spotted an off-ramp, I took it. After a mile, I reached a stretch where there was no other traffic. I stopped at the side of the road and got out of the car.

  Scanning up and down the highway, I focused my power. Gathering air under me, I leaned forward and pushed myself off the ground and high into the sky.

  * * *

  The sun was setting, and long shadows fell over the Mathesons’ property as I landed just past a line of low trees where two of three barns stood next to one another. The third barn was a crumpled ruin. The first thing I did was to fly near the intact barns and look inside.

  When Darcy had arrived at the motel that first time, I had felt that strange pull inside me; I didn’t feel it now. Still, I checked inside anyway, in case there was any indication David and company were planning to use the barns for their ritual. There was nothing out of place, so I stepped back outside and looked toward the main house.

  There were several buildings clustered around the large building, including a three-car garage, a tool shed, and what I assumed was a generator hut.

  Tall trees lined the road leading from the 530 highway to the property.

  In the driveway, two SUVs—the same make as Al and his men had been driving—were parked in haphazard fashion.

  I moved over until I could see into the kitchen through an open window. Nick was sitting at a table eating a sandwich. I was about four-hundred feet away, so there was no chance he would be able to see me.

  I made my way across the field on foot—if I flew now, anyone looking in my direction from the house would see the movement—and used the trees lining the driveway to hide behind as I approached.

  When I felt that electric tug deep in my gut, I knew Darcy was close.

  Keeping an eye out for movement, I went around the back of the house and saw there were two basement windows on that side.

  As quietly as I could, being careful not to throw a shadow across the window, I crept closer and peered inside.

  At first, I couldn’t see anything. The window itself was dirty, and the sun was still shining bright enough that I had difficulty seeing through the glass.

  Moving a few degrees to one side, I strained my eyes, and jerked back suddenly when I spotted movement.

  Holding my breath, I leaned close again. By then, the sun had shifted position enough that the window was in shadow. Someone turned on a dim light in the basement, and then I saw Darcy.

  She was sitting cross-legged on the ground, with her head slumped forward. The leather harness kept her arms tight to her sides and her hands in a praying position. A short length of chain attached to the collar of the harness was looped around one of the metal support beams running from the basement floor to the ceiling.

  Darcy must have sensed me there, and she looked up as if someone had called her name from across a crowded room. Her eyes spotted me in the window, and then she looked away quickly.

  That movement from before happened again, and I pulled myself away from the window as Al’s face appeared, looking out to see what had caused Darcy’s reaction.

  He said something, but it was too muffled for me to hear, and it was only after several more se
conds that he gave up his search and moved away from the window.

  I had no idea where David was, but I had to assume he was still feeling the effects from when Stacy crashed into him and knocked him into the plane’s window. He could be lying down on a living-room sofa or an upstairs bed.

  A dozen plans raced through my mind, each more impossible than the last. I wasn’t the hero type, and I wasn’t a killer. As a matter of fact, I wasn’t very good in a fight.

  The one thing I knew for certain, though, was that if I was spotted by Al, he would shoot me on sight. With my death, the fallen angel would jump to the nearest host in my bloodline: David.

  I didn’t think I had the resolve to go into the house with the intention of killing Al, Nick or David.

  The creature inside me might not have any reservations in doing whatever it had to do, but I vowed that I would not let it bear any influence on my actions. There had to be a way to get Darcy out of there without resorting to murder.

  I had to create a distraction. I could use the power of the elements to call down a tornado and rip the other barns to shreds. Darcy’s captors would go out to investigate, and I could sneak in.

  But would they? I asked myself. If they didn’t fall for it, then I would have only succeeded in revealing myself. I dismissed the idea as too risky.

  If I used my elemental power like that, they would know immediately that I was there. And even if I did use enough force to take out all three at the same time, I risked harming Darcy as well.

  I had to be more subtle than that. After thinking furiously, I came up with a plan.

  I waited with my back against the wall of the house until the sun set completely behind the trees. The light sensors tripped the outdoor floodlights, and I stood stock still, pressed as close to the house as I could.

  Taking a deep breath to focus myself, I concentrated on the generator hut a few dozen feet away; more specifically, on the gas line leading from the fuel tank beside the hut.