by Mary May
“Because you haven’t chosen our side,” Sloan answered.
“What does that even mean? Choosing your side? To be honest, I wasn’t aware that there were sides to choose from. I just thought I was living my own life.”
That earned her a low-lidded look from Sloan. “Really, Jaxon? I hear that line spoken by a lot of people, but I didn’t expect it from you.”
Jaxon placed her coffee cup on the table next to the couch to lessen the temptation of chunking it at the angel who was looking at her so disapprovingly.
“Care to explain that comment?” she said with an arched brow.
“Absolutely. My point is with your line of work there is no way that you don’t believe in a source of all evil. That being said, if there is one then there most certainly is the other. To my knowledge, you have never discounted God. Maybe you didn’t have anything to do with him, but you are aware of his existence. Am I correct?”
Jaxon sat plucking at the fringe on the blanket with nervous fingers. She really didn’t like it when Sloan brought the conversation back to God.
“Jaxon?”
“Yes! Ok? Yes, I know there is a devil and I know there is a God. But why can’t they both just get on with their thing and leave me out of it?”
Sloan leaned forward just enough to meet her gaze at eye level.
“Because you are their thing, Jaxon.”
Startled by the intensity of his voice as much as his words, Jaxon leaned back against the couch to put as much distance as possible between them.
“What do you mean? I am their thing?”
Ruffling his ultra-blonde hair, he sighed then leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees as he explained. “It’s not just you, Jaxon; it’s mankind as a whole. Satan knows that his time on earth is rapidly coming to an end. His eternal damnation draws closer with every passing day and his one goal, the only thing that matters to him, is to bring as many humans down with him as he can.” Sloan slouched back in his seat, rubbing his face roughly. There was a look in his eyes that spoke of an unending weariness that Jaxon couldn’t even conceive of. “There has been a war going on for centuries that most of humanity has no clue about. Every day we are fighting for their souls and their safety. Some battles we win; some we don’t. You go about your lives blissfully unaware of the battle raging all around you. Most don’t think of us as warriors on the front line. When they think of angels, they think…”
“Little naked babies?” Jaxon said with a small smile.
Sloan inclined his head to her in an old-world manner that strangely made it hit home for her that sitting in her living room was someone who had seen the creation of the heavens and the earth, had been around through the rise and fall of kings and kingdoms and had looked upon the face the God. Suddenly she felt a little breathless.
“Are you ok? You look pale again. Let me get you more coffee.” As he reached for her cup, Jaxon shook her head and placed her hand on Sloan’s arm. He froze as he turned his head to look at her.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered softly.
Cocking his head, he looked at her curiously with his strange yet intensely beautiful eyes.
“I haven’t given you the respect that you deserve. I mean once I knew what you were…that you are a …”
“An angel?” he supplied.
“Yes, an angel.”
“You have known for a couple of days. Why is it just now hitting you?”
Jaxon looked at him and shrugged. “I don’t know. There was something about the way you bowed your head to me just now. It seemed so old fashioned…old-world somehow, that it just hit me what all you have seen…who you have seen. You have seen God.”
“I appreciate your apology although none was needed. I have seen more than I want to remember sometimes. But I have also seen great beauty and breath-taking miracles. If you want to see the face of God, you don’t have to go to heaven to do so. Simply look upon the face of a newborn baby or a sunrise. Hear the roar of thunder as the ocean pounds into the surf. Listen as the birds sing a song that no musician can follow. Watch the lightning as it flashes across the sky, and see the way a delicate dewdrop glistens on a rose. God is in all of that. He is all-powerful and yet all-loving.”
“But why would he love me? I’m nothing special,” Jaxon asked as she tapped gently on her chest.
“It’s very simple, Jaxon. He loves you because he created you for the sole purpose of loving you. You exist simply so he can love you. He is your heavenly father. He doesn’t want or expect perfection; all he wants is your love in return.”
“It can’t be that simple. According to Grandma Lily, you must be in church every time the doors are open, you must pray a million times a day, be all things holy and proper. I can’t be all of that.”
Sloan gave her a smile that reached all the way to his eyes and across the room to Jaxon’s heart. “It’s a good thing Grandma Lily isn’t God, then, isn’t it? He asks for very little in exchange to give you so very much.”
Jaxon could feel an actual pull on her heart. It felt warm and almost as if it was tingling. She knew something was going on, but she still was not quite ready to make that leap. But Sloan was making it harder and harder to come up with valid arguments for stalling.
“Ok, so the demon was here to find out what side I am on, correct? So, what did he find out? What do you think he is going back to report?”
Sloan gave a slight shrug. “If I had to guess, I would say that he would report that you are undecided. I’m sure he can see the print of God on your soul -- it’s on everyone’s, but some burn brighter than others. Those that have had friends or family praying for them tend to burn especially bright.”
“I don’t have anyone praying for me,” Jaxon argued. “All of my family is dead and gone.”
“Death has no power over prayer. If a prayer is spoken over you, it never loses its power even if the person who prayed it has left this plane of existence. So, someone somewhere at some point in time prayed for your soul.”
“Oh.” That was the best response Jaxon could come up with.
Sloan chuckled at the look on her face. “It’s all right. We don’t have to make any life-altering decisions right at this moment.”
“I feel like I need to do something. I don’t want any more nighttime visitors,” Jaxon said with a small shiver as she rubbed her arms. “Did I tell you that I have a feeling that the murders and the room we found in the warehouse are somehow connected?”
“No, but that makes sense. I wouldn’t be surprised to find that the murders, warehouse and the drugs are all connected. Didn’t you say that you have no idea where the drug is coming from?”
“We haven’t even been able to get a sample of it. Hey! Couldn’t you play super angel sleuth and do some snooping? I mean you could go way-way undercover, as in invisible.” Jaxon looked up hopefully.
“Tell you what. How about we go together? You know the hot spots more so than I do,” Sloan suggested.
Jaxon shook her head. “That would defeat the purpose if I went with you. I have no choice but to be visible; you have what I like to call options.”
Sloan got to his feet and held out his hand. Jaxon arched her brow, standing in place as she looked at his hand without moving.
“What’s the matter, Malone? Chicken?” he goaded.
That got the response he was after. Her blue eyes narrowed as her chin rose up a couple of inches. Slapping her hand into his, she barely had time to draw in a quick breath before the world in front of her disappeared.
Chapter 8
Once the dizziness faded, Jaxon saw that she was down in the warehouse district. Looking down at her clothes with a gasp, she slapped hard at the arm that was firmly holding her right hand.
“I’m in my pajamas, Sloan! You could have told me we were leaving my house! I don’t have my badge or side arm. I can’t arrest someone like this.”
“Calm down, my fiery chatal’tul. We are here to observe only, and keep your hand
in mine unless you want them to see your footie pajamas. It may do some serious damage to your tough-girl image.”
Jaxon wasn’t sure what to address first. There was a lot of wrong in his statement. “First off, footie pajamas are very practical. My feet get cold and I’m a restless sleeper so I kick my covers off most nights. Secondly, what do you mean that as long as I hold your hand they won’t see my pajamas? And thirdly what did you call me?”
Sloan snorted in laughter at her indignant expression. “I’m answering your questions in reverse, if that is acceptable. First, I called you my fiery chatal’tu; it’s Hebrew for kitten. You get so fired up sometimes you remind you me of a spitting kitten. All fluff and hiss as it faces a dog. You are really quite brave. Secondly, as long as you hold my hand you are as invisible as I am and, thirdly, your choice of sleepwear is rather charming, so don’t think I’m complaining. I’m just saying that big bad detective rep that you try so hard to portray loses something in My Little Pony P.J’s.”
“They were the only ones in my size,” Jaxon muttered with pink cheeks.
“Like I said, charming. Now there is something I need to warn you about.” But before Sloan could prepare her, he felt Jaxon stiffen next to him then press close to his side. Out of habit her hand slid to her hip, reaching for the side arm that wasn’t there.
“Sloan…what…is…THAT?” She nodded her head toward the front of the warehouse where they had found the satanic paraphernalia. The creature had a combination of black and green marbled skin. Thick black veins were easily seen under his skin. Its arms and legs were misshapen and tipped with black talons. It had to be every bit of ten feet tall and roped with muscle. Its head reminded her of a dragon with eerie white glowing eyes tinged with orange that looked all around before disappearing inside the warehouse.
“Sorry, I was trying to warn you. In this form, you can see everything I see. It’s not pretty sometimes.”
“No, not pretty whatsoever. Hard to believe he was once like you. So, I’m guessing that is who is in control of this area?” Jaxon said after peeling herself away from Sloan’s body.
He looked at her in surprise then gave her a small nod. “Yeah, actually it is. How did you guess that so fast?”
Jaxon shrugged. “Which part? That he once was an angel or the fact that I think he is the turf lord?”
Sloan chuckled softly. “Both.”
“I told you that my grandmother was constantly forcing me to church and making me read the Bible. I guess some of it stuck. As far as that thing, he just gave off that vibe. I have come across gang leaders and turf warlords and they all give off the same vibe. Is he the one they are sacrificing the people to?”
“Yes, he gives them what petty things they ask for and in return he grows in power and is slowly poisoning their hearts and souls. He is killing them and they don’t even realize.”
“Can they be saved?” Jaxon asked.
“Sometimes,” was Sloan’s quiet reply.
The next morning Jaxon walked outside to find Sloan waiting for her leaned against her Mustang. In a black pinstriped suit and his trademark Ray-Bans in place, he looked like a model.
“Looking good there, Sloan. I didn’t know they sold suits like that in angel sizes.”
“I happen to know someone,” he shot back with a grin. “You look very nice yourself. I didn’t know they made dresses and heels in tough little kitten sizes.”
Jaxon did a little twirl showing off her dark blue dress. She owned only three, but this was her favorite. It was a wrap dress made from a soft jersey material that gave her curves where she didn’t normally have any and the color accentuated her eyes. Giving the angel a sassy wink, she opened her car door.
“Eat your heart out, Angel, and get in.”
They pulled up to Serenity Meadows cemetery just a few minutes before 10:00 A.M. They had to park in the back because the parking lot was already full.
“I hate this, Sloan, I really do,” Jaxon whispered as she watched the family walk to the front of the tent that covered Noah’s casket.
“I know, I do, too,” he said, pulling her cold hand into his large warm one. Once again Jaxon felt peace drift across her troubled heart and mind. He held her hand for only a few seconds, but he took away the biggest part of her anxiety.
Giving him a quick smile in thanks, she found a spot for them to stand. With so many in attendance, they couldn’t get very close to the front so Jaxon saw very little, which was fine by her. She hated funerals with a passion. She had made the entire precinct mad for not going to Mitch’s. Taking advantage of everyone being occupied by the service upfront, she did a little people watching. You would be surprised at what people reveal about themselves when they believe no one is looking. After a few minutes, Sloan nudged her arm then leaned down to whisper in her ear.
“There is a young girl watching everything. She thinks she is hidden by the bush but I saw her. What do you think?”
“How young? Like Noah’s age young?” she asked. Sloan nodded as he kept his eyes on the girl in question.
“Think it might be Monica? The tutor?”
Sloan tilted his head as he looked down at her. “Not to be judging a book by its cover, but I would say tutoring isn’t part of this girl’s skillset.”
That had Jaxon’s curiosity piqued. “Where is she? Maybe I can sneak around and catch her. No way she won’t see you coming. Unless you don’t want her to see you, of course,” she amended after Sloan frowned at her. “But you will scare her silly; let me handle this.”
After getting general directions, Jaxon headed for the girl in question. She circled wide around the crowd as she approached the girl hidden behind the bushes. The snapping of a limb that she deliberately stepped on made the girl whirl around and look at Jaxon with wide black-rimmed eyes. Sloan was right about one thing. The girl certainly didn’t look like a tutor. Dressed in a black off-the-shoulder blouse and ripped-out black jeans with chunky-heeled black boots laced up to her knees, she looked like she stepped out of a teen Goth magazine.
Jaxon gave the girl her friendliest smile. “Hi, was Noah a friend of yours?” she asked.
The girl looked scared to death and kept glancing around as if she was looking for a place to run.
“Honey, don’t be scared. My name is Jaxon; what’s yours?” Jaxon knew the girl was about to bolt and she cursed the fact that she was in heels and probably wouldn’t be able to catch her. Holding her arms out, she tried to look welcoming while keeping her from running at the same time. A sneer came on the girl’s face, twisting her otherwise pretty features into something ugly.
“I ain’t telling you nothing, Lady,” she snarled.
“All I asked you for is your name. Surely there is no harm in telling that much, is there?”
“Like I said, I ain’t telling you nothing!” She took off running, sidestepping Jaxon, who nearly fell when the sharp heel of her shoes sank in the soft dirt. The girl didn’t get far. Sloan had her wrapped up tightly in his arms by the time Jaxon finally got her feet unstuck and turned in the right direction.
“You were right. You handled this much better than I could,” Sloan said with a grin.
“Bite me, Angel Boy,” she muttered under her breath. She had no doubt he heard her with his super angel hearing. When his grin grew bigger, she knew she was right.
“Let me go! Let me go or I will scream!” the girl swore as she struggled to get free.
Sloan turned her around to face him. He jerked his sunglasses off and spoke very softly. “You will not scream. You will stand quietly and answer our questions. We are not here to hurt you. You have nothing to fear from talking to us.” He stared intently into her eyes as he spoke.
Jaxon watched in amazement as the girl dropped her arms and stopped fighting him. The scowl left her face and she stood calmly looking up at him with big green eyes.
“Whoa…you got to teach me that trick,” Jaxon said with a little awe in her voice.
Sloan smiled as he
reached out and touched the girl gently on her shoulder. “There is no trick to teach. She saw the truth in my eyes and knows that we won’t hurt her, isn’t that right?” he asked the girl who was still staring at him.
Seeming to shake off the effects of Sloan’s weird eye gaze, she once more screwed up her face into a sneer. “Whatever, dude, so what do you want with me?”
“Like I said my name is Jaxon, and this is Sloan. We are trying find out where Noah went the day he died. We know he didn’t make it to his tutor’s house.”
The girl gave a short burst of laughter. “Lady, Noah didn’t have no tutor. He was hanging with us during that time. His old lady kept him on such a tight leash that telling her he had a computer tutor was the only way he could get a few hours of freedom, you know?”
“Mrs. Wallace said that Noah is autistic and doesn’t speak with strangers or hang out with crowds. Are you saying that’s not true?” Sloan asked her.
The girl shrugged. “Yeah, he had some weird ticks, you know? But after he got to know you, he was pretty funny. As long as the group didn’t get too big, Noah was cool. He wasn’t near as bad as his mom let on. I mean, she just wouldn’t let him grow up, you know? A kid has to have space to himself. She never would give him any.”
“Did you see Noah the day he died?” Jaxon asked.
The girl shook her head. “No, I was busy doing other things that day. I wish I had been there though. I wouldn’t have let him do something so stupid as trying Hell Hash. I don’t know what Ze…,” she trailed off, not finishing her sentence.
“Did someone one push Noah into trying the drug? Did they get it for him?” Jaxon asked as she glanced up at her partner.
“Look, I have already said too much. I need to go.” She looked up at Sloan as if seeking his permission.
“Tell us your name and where we can find you if we need to speak to you again,” Sloan told her.
“The name is Jazzera, but you can call me Jazzy; everyone does. I can usually be found hanging out on the block behind the park on Third Street.”