by SJ West
“I can’t believe they put a bounty out on me,” Helena says with a contemptuous roll of her eyes. “It makes me sound like I’m a common criminal.”
“Maybe that’s the way they see you. You did kill one of their own kind.”
“But not on purpose,” Helena is quick to clarify.
“Either way you look at it, Cade is dead and you’re the one who killed him, whether you meant to or not. In their eyes, I don’t think it really matters. All I know is that there’s a lot of money to be made off bringing you in before that baby is born, and I intend to take the Empress of Cirrus’ cash one day.”
“That’s laughable,” Helena scoffs. “A drunkard like you bringing me in. How exactly do you intend to do that?”
“Oh, I didn’t say I would be the one to bring you in, just cash in on the bounty.”
“Same question: How do you intend to work that miracle?”
“I wouldn’t be much of a bounty hunter if I told you all of my trade secrets.”
Helena winces again, but this time her breathing pattern changes and she acts like she can’t take in a deep breath. I stand from my seat and hold onto the railing as I make my way down the four steps to her. She’s bent over slightly at the waist as she tries to compose herself.
“Do you need a doctor?” I ask her, lightly cupping her bent elbow with one hand to help steady her.
Helena shakes her head vigorously. “No. I don’t need a doctor.”
“Have you even been to a doctor since you found out you were pregnant?”
“No,” she says with finality, as if it’s a closed subject.
“If this is an abnormal pain, you need to go see a doctor,” I advise her.
“Nothing about this pregnancy has been natural,” she assures me. “I don’t need a doctor to tell me something I already know.”
It only takes me a second to figure out why Helena is refusing medical attention.
“Are you scared of what they’ll tell you about the baby?” I ask her. “I overheard some of the War Angels placing bets on whether it will come out looking human or like something else.”
“And I will make them regret placing wagers on my child’s well-being,” Helena says vehemently between labored breaths.
“I don’t think they meant any disrespect to the baby,” I reply, “just to you.”
“I could care less what those half-wits think about me,” Helena declares. “And you can tell them that they’re fools if they believe I’ll willingly hand over my son to them.”
“How do you know it’s a boy?” I ask in surprise. “I thought you said you hadn’t been to a doctor yet. Did you do a ultrasound on yourself or something to find out?”
“I don’t need to look at him,” she tells me, wrenching her elbow out of my grasp. “I just know.”
Helena phases to points unknown by me, because I’m not an angel, but I do know a couple who can follow the phase trail she left behind. As quickly as my alcohol-numbed legs will take me, I head back into the cabin’s interior. As soon as I step inside through the backdoor, I wave at the camera stationed on the opposite wall, knowing the guard on duty ordered to keep watch will see me and get word to either Uncle Enis or my mother that the prodigal daughter has returned.
I lean against the door opening to wait for someone to show up. Less than a minute passes before the dynamic duo make their appearance.
Of course my mother shows up impeccably dressed. She’s wearing a well-tailored white pantsuit that would look silly on any other woman her age. Her long blonde hair is styled loosely in waves that cascade past her shoulders. The look of disapproval on her face is the only thing marring her beauty.
“Oh, Jules,” my mother says disappointedly as she takes in my drunken state, “when will you stop torturing yourself like this?”
“No time soon,” I answer, because it’s the truth. I’m not in the mood to discuss my lack of virtues with my mother yet again, so I quickly change the subject. “Helena was just here.”
“Where?” Uncle Enis is quick to ask, taking a step forward as he readies himself to go where I direct.
Sweet, loyal Uncle Enis. If he wasn’t my “uncle,” I could have easily fallen in love with him. Sure, he is handsome with his chiseled looks and curly brown hair, but it is his soul I love. It’s almost impossible for me to believe he used to work with Lucifer when that particular devil was earthbound. In fact, he and mom only recently left Lucifer’s employ, as it were. After Lucifer returned to Heaven, he left the rest of the rebellion angels to fend for themselves. From what I understand, that certainly caused a ruckus among the angels he left behind. Most of them felt abandoned and decided to try and make Lucifer’s daughter, Anna (the empress of the cloud city of Cirrus on Earth), pay for his rejection of them. My mom said God pretty much put the kibosh on the rebellion angels’ plans for revenge, and the leader of the rebels, Hale, is still trying to figure out a way to exact his vengeance on Anna. I don’t see that happening anytime soon, though. He lost over half his supporters after God’s interference. I figure he’s going to need some time to lick his wounds and reorganize before he tries anything else.
“She was out back at the foot of the steps,” I tell him.
He immediately phases. I turn around to look back outside and ask him, “Can you still see her phase trail?”
“Yes,” he answers, but I notice he doesn’t phase to wherever Helena has scampered off to.
My mother walks up behind me to peer out into the backyard over my shoulder.
“She’s in Hell,” my mother informs me, obviously being able to see Helena’s phase trail from where she stands. “She must have known you would contact us and went to the one place she knew we couldn’t follow her to.”
“And why is that exactly?” I ask. “You used to go back and forth to that place all the time. Why can’t you go there now?”
“Hell is Helena’s domain. If she wants to be left alone, that’s where she goes because she can block anyone else from entering. I’ve told you this before, Jules. More than once in fact.”
The condescension in my mother’s voice grates on my nerves. I don’t know why she expects me to remember every little detail about angels. It’s hard enough these days for me to remember how to walk in a straight line, much less keep up with her kind’s peculiarities.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say, feeling the full effects of the alcohol in my body kick in as my eyelids become too heavy to keep open any longer. “She’ll have to come up for air eventually, and when she does, I’ll be able to find her.”
“Tough talk coming from a drunkard,” my mother replies, but not unkindly. Her voice is simply filled with the usual disdain for my current state. I feel her place her hands on my arms and pull my body back against her, because she knows I’ll be passing out soon and will most likely end up flat on my face if left unattended. There’s only so many times you can break your nose without it making your face look odd. “How exactly do you plan to work such a miracle, Jules?”
My mom might be a thorn in my side most of the time, but she’s one of the few people in my life I know I can count on and trust.
“I put a tracer on her,” I say right before sleep has a chance to claim my conscious mind, providing me a small respite from the real world. “You better get in touch with those War Angels and let them know so they can be ready to pony up the dough they’ll owe me when I find her.”
“Good girl,” I hear my mom whisper in my ear as she accepts my full weight against her.
I know she’ll take care of me. She’s done it more times over the last five years than I care to think about. One day, I hope I can break away from my self-indulgent pity fest, but today isn’t that day. No amount of alcohol can make me forget what I came home to on this night five years ago, and I fear it might take an act of God to change the path of self-destruction I’m heading down now. Miracles might happen on Earth on a regular basis, but in my world, they’ve been few and far between.
Get your copy to
day!
Exclusively on Amazon! FREE on KU!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Once upon a time, a little girl was born on a cold winter morning in the heart of Seoul, Korea. She was brought to America by her parents and raised in the Deep South where the words ma'am and y'all became an integrated part of her lexicon. She wrote her first novel at the age of eight and continued writing on and off during her teenage years. In college she studied biology and chemistry and finally combined the two by earning a master's degree in biochemistry.
* * *
After that she moved to Yankee land where she lived for four years working in a laboratory at Cornell University. Homesickness and snow aversion forced her back South where she lives in the land, which spawned Jim Henson, Elvis Presley, Oprah Winfrey, John Grisham and B.B. King.
* * *
After finding her Prince Charming, she gave birth to a wondrous baby girl and they all lived happily ever after.
As always, you can learn about the progress on my books, get news about new releases, new projects and participate on amazing giveaways by signing up for my newsletter:
S.J. West Newsletter
* * *
or by following me
www.sjwest.com
[email protected]