Lost Eden (The Soulkeepers)

by G. P. Ching

  Malini pressed a finger over his lips. “Enough. I get it. I’ll straighten up and focus.”

  “Not because you have to, Mal, because you believe it.”

  She pursed her lips.

  “Seriously. Your job is to tell the future by what has happened in the past. Can’t you see that God always wins? Good always triumphs over evil.”

  “You don’t know that for sure.”

  “Yes, I do. Because Lucifer’s promises aren’t real. Everything on that commercial tonight was a lie. The amulets don’t work and whatever security system Harrington is selling is a complete scam. They won’t be able to keep up that illusion forever. Eventually truth bleeds out into the open.”

  Malini grabbed his head and kissed him, hard, only releasing him when his body softened on the bed next to her.

  “What was that for?” Jacob asked, grinning.

  “For shutting you up.”

  Jacob scowled.

  “Thank you, Jake, for reminding me why I’m here.” She placed a palm on his cheek.

  He covered her hand with his. “Good night, Malini.”

  “Good night, Jacob.”

  She closed her eyes and drifted off to racing images of Watchers, hellhounds, exploding churches, and finally Master Lee. Even in her dreams, she cried.

  Chapter 27

  The Third Gift

  Gabriel checked out his reflection in the giant bean sculpture, turning his face this way and that, watching the old man’s head in the shiny metal narrow and stretch with his movement. Millennium Park was empty aside from the rare jogger with a Harrington medallion keen on overcoming the early morning chill. Next to him, crowded on the small bench in the dark, an aged and corpulent black woman tossed birdseed to a group of wiry pigeons—God.

  “It’s freezing out here, Lord,” Gabriel complained. “Couldn’t we talk inside somewhere?”

  “The only places still open are those who’ve sworn allegiance to Lucifer.” God gave a tired sigh. “Everyone else has boarded up their windows and is in hiding from the Watchers.”

  Gabriel hugged himself and rubbed his shoulders. “No one is brave enough to fight? Where are the Soulkeepers?”

  “They’re here, in the city. They just need some time to get up to speed.” Another handful of seed scattered across the pavement.

  “Time they don’t have,” Gabriel said.

  God grunted, bobbing her frosted-gray curls.

  “May I suggest, Lord, that you provide courage as the third gift? People need to stand up and be brave, or the evil will walk all over them.” Gabriel leaned back on the bench, looking smug.

  “Can’t blame people for being afraid. Human brains are hardwired to fear the Watchers.”

  “Soulless fallen angels who eat human flesh—what’s not to fear?” Gabriel rubbed his hands together briskly.

  The Lord crumpled up the empty seed bag and tossed it east. The brown paper soared through the air, cut through the oncoming wind, and landed in a garbage can across the park. “They fear the Watchers because some part of them knows the fallen angels represent a future without God. They see the darkness within the beasts and think how easy it would be to become like them, but at the same time fear the separation from me. Why do you think more people haven’t signed up for Harrington’s offer? They must be terrified. But some part of every human heart is stamped with my name. Man will not come easily to Lucifer’s table.”

  “Then courage. Courage to fight,” Gabriel repeated.

  “Courage is useless in the absence of anything to be courageous about. What we need to do is give them hope. We need to show them that there is a reason to fight. If evil is the only choice, the best a person can do is not to choose. But if we give them hope, hope that there is something on the other side of the struggle, then they will see the value of the fight.”

  Gabriel smiled. “Hope is a powerful gift. One that forever changes the one who lets it into their heart.”

  “You are correct, dear angel.”

  A jogger crossed between them and the giant metal bean sculpture. A Harrington talisman bounced on her chest to the same rhythm as her brown ponytail.

  “Already so pervasive. How did he reach so many so fast?”

  “Social media.” God stood. “Walk with me.”

  Gabriel fell into step beside her. “What vessel will bring hope into the world? Can I deliver it?”

  “No need. I’ve already arranged for its arrival.”

  Gabriel frowned. “You mean, it is already here, on Earth?”

  “Yes. It has been for some time.”

  Looking right then left, Gabriel noticed a group of Watchers walking up the middle of the street. “What are we waiting for?” he asked. “Why not unleash it now?”

  “The vessel isn’t quite ready. There is a time for everything and a season for every purpose under the heavens.”

  “A time to be born and a time to die?” Gabriel said, smiling.

  “You know this one?”

  “I’ve heard it somewhere before.”

  The two walked toward the lake, noting the Watchers they’d seen earlier duck inside as a silvery glow began over the water, the first hints of sunrise. “They hate sunlight. Always have.”

  “Lord, if the vessel is already here, why did you want to meet with me? What can I do to help if you do not need a messenger?”

  “This time, Gabriel, it is not what I need you to do, but what I need you not to do.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “What will happen today, I allow to happen. It must happen or hope will not come on time.”

  “And this is something I will want to stop but must not?”

  “Correct.”

  “So, do nothing? That doesn’t sound difficult.”

  God stopped and faced him. “It will be.” A chill wind rushed Gabriel’s neck. “Now, one more thing before we go home.” The Lord leaned in and whispered in Gabriel’s ear. He had a job to do after all, and this day would be difficult, perhaps the most difficult of all of his days.

  * * * * *

  Abigail tried to roll over without waking Gideon, but it was almost impossible with a stomach the size of Texas. She wasn’t sleeping well anymore. The baby kicked her in the ribs every time she lay down, and no position was comfortable for sleeping. On her back, there was too much weight on her spine. It was physically impossible to sleep on her stomach. And there was only so long she could rest on her side before her hip started to hurt.

  As quietly as possible, she lifted herself from the mattress and crept toward the kitchen for a glass of water and maybe a snack, if there was anything left to eat from the RV. The kitchen was the industrial sort with stainless steal counters and a massive refrigerator, sadly empty. All the way in the back, crisscrossed steel bars jailed a walk-in pantry. Abigail looked at the massive lock on the door and wondered why the high security was needed in a church.

  “High theft area, and the church is often open to the public,” Gideon said. “I asked Father Raymond last night.”

  Abigail turned on her heel to face her beloved. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  He shrugged. “It’s a twin bed. Besides, I think I was ready to be up. Soon enough we’ll be taking turns with early morning feedings.” A smile crept across his stubbled face. “Might as well get used to it.”

  “More of a reason for you to have your sleep now,” she said. She turned the lock and rummaged through the pantry. Plates, napkins, plastic silverware, cups. Nothing edible. Damn.

  Gideon cleared his throat and played with a stray twist tie he found on one of the shelves. “Abigail, how long do you think we have before the baby comes?”

  She stopped and placed her hands on her belly. “I’ve never been to a doctor. Never had an ultrasound. Malini says the baby is healthy, but we have no idea the effect Lucifer’s prison had on her development.”

  “You must have a feeling. You said you knew you were pregnant before you left Eden.”

  �
��Yes.”

  “How pregnant?”

  “My clothes were tight.”

  “So it could be …”

  “It could be soon. Very soon. We might have a month. Six weeks, maybe?”

  Gideon’s face paled.

  “It will all work out, Gideon. We will make do.”

  He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again and blew out a giant breath. Moving in closer, he placed his hands on the sides of her belly. The baby kicked him in his right palm. “Oh!”

  “She knows your voice already.”

  “She? You keep calling the baby a girl. Do you know something I don’t?”

  Abigail hesitated. “Just a gut feeling.” She sputtered a laugh at the unintended pun, and Gideon joined in. He ended by kissing her on the forehead. Wanting more, she tilted her face to partake in a proper kiss. He obliged, then held her in his arms until she was sure everything was going to be okay.

  “I’m starving,” she said finally. “Let’s go check if there’s food left in the RV.” Abigail threaded her fingers with his and led him from the kitchen. She climbed the stairs and passed through the tunnel to the rectory. The sun hadn’t broke the horizon yet but the sky glowed a soft winter’s gray behind the dormant trees in the courtyard. Gideon stopped her at the door, looking both ways to make sure the courtyard was safe before taking Abigail’s hand and leading her toward the RV.

  He paused halfway across. “Did you see that?”

  Abigail shook her head, looking in the direction he was facing.

  “I thought I saw someone.”

  “Is that Gabriel?” Abigail asked, squinting, but her human vision was too dull to make out the figure standing in the distance. Still, she knew an angel when she saw one. She could practically feel the warm glow of his presence all the way across the yard. She took a step toward him. “Do you think he has a message for us?”

  Gideon scowled. “Look where he is, how he’s standing. When I was an angel, that’s not how I would deliver a message. It’s how I would deliver a—”

  “Warning,” Abigail finished. She launched her leaden body back toward the door pulling Gideon behind her, but it was too late. The Watcher swooped down from the sky, talons ripping through her right side and knocking her from Gideon’s grip. She landed on her hip on the frozen ground, her body rotating on instinct to protect her young. As soon as she could catch her breath, she screamed as loud and as long as she could manage.

  Gideon found a metal rod in the rubble and positioned himself between her and the Watcher, who seemed almost entertained by the display. Gideon thrust at the creature’s heart. The thing laughed, then broke apart in a ripple of darkness, forming behind Gideon. Before he could react, the beast’s wing swept him into the air.

  “No!” Abigail cried. But a word couldn’t stop the scene in front of her. Gideon rose ten, twenty feet, and then dropped onto the rubble near the rectory. His leg snapped, bending at an unnatural angle, before his body rolled off the broken brick, over wood beams and jagged stones. Abigail watched in horror as his head smacked a sharp piece of rubble and red blood sprayed. The Watcher licked its lips and moved in for the kill. Gideon moaned but did not get up.

  Abigail scrambled to her feet, grasping the nearest object she could lift, a chunk of concrete the size of a bowling ball. “Hey!” she yelled. The Watcher turned, and she hurled her weapon with everything she had.

  The chunk bounced harmlessly off the Watcher’s chest. Two yellow snake eyes locked onto her. The beast sniffed the air, smelling her fear. Licking its lips, it continued toward Gideon, cloven hooves crunching on the frozen grass.

  Helplessly, Abigail screamed as the beast reached Gideon, lifting his limp body. His head was bleeding and one of his legs dangled in the wrong direction. Eyes fluttering, his hand clenched as if he was trying to fight, but he was too injured.

  “No! No!” she cried. The Watcher’s teeth clamped down on Gideon’s neck. Blood sprayed from the wound, showering the courtyard.

  The world tilted. Abigail’s butt hit the ground, black spots swirling in her vision. Then, a miracle. A knife flew from the door of the rectory into the Watcher’s neck. The thing howled, the blessed knife steaming. Gideon’s body hit the ground as the Watcher reared. Lillian and Jacob sped from the door, racing for the beast with weapons drawn.

  The Watcher made a hasty retreat, barreling toward Abigail in the process of dodging Jacob’s blade. The beast wasn’t fast enough. Jacob’s holy water sword sliced through its chest, causing the black flesh to bubble and sizzle. Still, the creature reached for her. Then the unthinkable. As the Watcher came apart piece by infected piece, it looked straight at her and hurled.

  Fiery vomit heralded the fallen angel’s end. The beast came apart like a popped balloon full of oil. But that last breath, that last spew of magic, hit Abigail from bottom rib to neck. She dropped as the pain moved in, gasping for breath. Her body seized. The pain didn’t stop at her torso, it wrapped around her abdomen and squeezed. Warm and wet flowed down her leg.

  “Oh my God, Jacob, help. We’ve got to get her to Malini.” Lillian’s arm was under her shoulder, lifting.

  “Gid…” Abigail cried, but her mouth filled with blood.

  “Don’t speak. Dane and Ethan are helping Gideon. We need to get you to Malini.”

  Whisked through the rectory door, she closed her eyes against the pain. The next time she opened them, Malini was hovering over her, forehead wrinkled and jaw tight.

  “We have to deliver the baby, Abigail. You have to push.”

  Grace was there too, holding one of her hands, and Lillian the other. Both women wore matching grimaces. They sat her up. She was on the island in the kitchen, covered in a sheet and nestled in pillows. Malini was holding her knees apart, one of her hands noticeably burnt. She’d been trying to heal her, but Abigail didn’t understand. She wasn’t healed. In fact, her entire body screamed in pain.

  “Now push!” Grace cried.

  Abigail did, with everything she had. Her eyes rolled back in her head.

  “Her blood pressure is dropping,” Lillian said frantically. “Can’t you do something?”

  “I tried!” Malini said. “All of my healing energy is taken by the baby. It’s as if her body is feeding it to her abdomen. I can’t heal her until we deliver this baby.”

  Digging deep, Abigail tried to stay conscious. Human women had babies every day. She needed to do this. Another contraction gripped her, a massive snake constricting her middle.

  “Push!” Grace said.

  Abigail obeyed.

  “I see hair,” Malini said excitedly.

  Another contraction came and then another and another. They piled on top of each other until Abigail screamed. The pain was so great, she was only vaguely aware of the women around her shouting with excitement. Over the sheet, her daughter appeared. She’d been right! A girl.

  There was a bustle of activity. Something was wrong. The baby was the wrong color. Lillian rushed to Malini’s side.

  “Hope!” Abigail rasped.

  “Hope?” Grace asked.

  “Her name is Hope,” Abigail said more clearly.

  Grace patted her shoulder. “A perfect name. Try to relax, Abigail. She’s in good hands. You did a good job.” Grace lowered her to the pillows. “Just rest for a minute. Hope will be in your arms before you know it.” The woman brushed her hair back from her face.

  The most beautiful sound cut through the kitchen, a baby’s cry. Malini and Lillian cheered. Grace squealed with joy.

  Abigail’s eyes locked on her baby girl, her mouth bending into a painful smile. Her entire body began to shake. Grace grabbed her shoulders. Lillian shouted something and Malini’s hand reached for her, but the few feet between her and the girl might as well have been an ocean. Pain rocked her chest, and then …

  Darkness. Silence.

  A blink later, she was standing next to the table, staring at a door. It was a beautiful door, white with gray scrollwork. A f
amiliar face waited beside it.

  “Henry?”

  “It’s time, Abigail.”

  “Time?” Abigail looked over her shoulder. The scene was frozen. Lillian pressed two hands over Abigail’s heart. Grace was attempting to give her body air, pinching her nose and covering her mouth with her own. Malini held Hope with one arm while she tried her best to heal with the other. But you couldn’t heal the dead.

  “I’m dead?” Abigail whispered.

  “Yes.”

  “But Hope? Gideon?”

  “Hope has a purpose here, and Gideon is waiting for you.”

  “Waiting?”

  Henry held out his hand. Abigail placed her fingers in his and stepped forward. He opened the door for her. Light and warmth washed through the opening, the sound of children’s laughter drawing her forward into the beyond. Cherry blossoms floated in the air, welcoming her in like a ticker tape parade. And there he was.

  “Gideon?”

  He held open his arms and smiled. She ran into them, joy flooding her as he swept her into his embrace. For a moment, she could still see the kitchen through the crack in the door. She threaded her fingers with his. “We have a daughter, Gideon.”

  “I know. You named her Hope,” he said.

  The door closed, and then there was nothing but joy, warmth, and light. And Gideon. Forever.

  Chapter 28

  The Watcher

  Earlier that day …

  Cord was late for work. Again. Lucifer would tie his entrails in a bow if he wasn’t careful. Harrington Enterprises needed leadership, and Auriel would use his lateness as an excuse to cover up her own laziness if she had the opportunity. The days of lounging around Nod, feeding on captured humans, were over. And while he believed that if Lucifer won this challenge things would be infinitely better for him, he hated the present, hated the expectations and responsibilities.

  The new Harrington Demon Eradication Systems required constant monitoring. Oh, the systems themselves were never intended to work. It was the Watchers who needed monitoring. Cord’s job was to keep his brethren from attacking anyone with an HDES sign or talisman. But Watcher’s weren’t keen on denying themselves an easy meal. Cord’s work was difficult and constant. Living this way, he might as well have remained an angel.