Damn, no demon hunting tonight. “Sure, but first, I gotta say something. Your hiring people obviously made a big mistake in choosing me as a detective or for this healing business. You’re going to figure that out soon enough, so it’s probably best we sort it out now.”
Milton chuckled. “Because of your lack of experience?”
So, the old fart knew what I was worried about. Good.
“You said you knew about my short time with Boise P.D. I also need to make sure you know that Dad raised both of his kids as god-fearing Christians—no magical healing or witchcraft.”
Milton held up his hand. “Jesus was a healer. I can confirm that fact from personal experience, and you have a touch of the gift yourself. Even if you didn’t, however, your true strength is your thirst for justice. That is your attribute that the legion will find most useful.”
Relief flooded through me, set me all a-tingle. I hadn’t lost his confidence in my skill as a detective. “Okay, good to know. Second point, my sister has read the epic poem, Paradise Lost. Is it one of yours?”
“Indeed. Your sister is remarkably well-read. Not many humans bother to study my literary works.”
“She loves it, by the way, but when I studied it online, I realized demons are constantly attacking people. I’m not a coward, but I am curious about the dangers I’ll be facing.”
Milton settled into a chair in front of my desk and nodded. “In brief, you are correct. All manner of foul fiends infest this Earth. Humans happen to be a particularly weak species and are easily corrupted. We stand in the demons’ way, although we are woefully outnumbered. They will hunt you as soon as they become aware of your presence, hoping to destroy you quickly before you can earn your wings and full powers. Thus, it is of the utmost importance that you remain hidden from them for as long as possible.”
He pointed at the hawk sitting on Ellen’s desk. “Griffin will accompany you tonight to fend off any dark immortals. You shall strictly follow his directives about how to interact with fallen creatures. I’ve shielded your as-yet feeble spirit from the damned. As long as you do not perform any healings, or conjure magic, around dark immortals, they will not notice you. And if any do, Griffin will deal with them.”
I was hung up on the word destroy. “I thought angels were immortal, couldn’t be killed.”
“We are immortal in the sense that we do not succumb to old age or disease, but we are not invulnerable. We can be destroyed by cursed weapons or black magic. If we are eliminated, we do not reincarnate. Our spirits vanish forever.”
That was even worse than dying. No more chances in a new body. “Ouch. How many demons live in Denver?”
“At any given time, several thousand roam throughout the metropolitan area. Most are relatively harmless and can be safely ignored, but hundreds are dangerous. The most prominent satanic spirit you are likely to encounter is your state’s present governor. I see from your memories that he is determined to contact you.”
I cringed. The nasty news kept right on coming. I didn’t know Butch Pierce, but something about seeing him on TV had creeped me out. Now I knew why. “You probably should’ve mentioned that earlier. His office has called a couple of times, and I’ve ignored their calls. But just so you know, he’s met my buddy Kevin already, so he’s probably seen Kevin’s memories of the trip through Hell. I’ll make sure I don’t connect with the governor, but he might’ve noticed how I rose from the dead, so to speak.”
“Agh! The past cannot be changed,” Milton said. “In the future, avoid Pierce at all costs.”
Our grand poohbah’s grimace confirmed he wasn’t happy to hear about Kevin. “Is the governor strong enough to tell I’m an angel?”
“You’re an apprentice, actually,” Milton said, “but yes. If you approach him, he is strong enough to sense your immortal presence, despite the protection I’ve given you. If he does recognize you, he will attack immediately.”
Milton nodded at the hawk. “Of course, your guardian angel will do everything in his power to protect you from this evil.”
I glanced at the raptor, and he remained cold and aloof. Is he willing to fight for me?
To Milton, I said, “I’ll avoid the governor at all costs.”
“Excellent.” The quickness with which he answered me told me he was worried about my safety. I sighed. Sweet Jesus, this job was looking tougher by the day.
Before I could ask any more questions, Milton stood. “That’s enough discussion for the present. Duty beckons. Griffin has just annihilated a group of sorcerers in Peru who were using human slaves as miners. Many of the prisoners were injured by their merciless masters. None of them speak English, so there’s no danger that you will be asked uncomfortable questions. In addition, we will cloud their memories before taking them to Lima and freedom.”
“I’ve never healed people,” I said. “Actually, it’s against the law to practice medicine without a license.”
Milton chuckled. “We are not constrained by human laws, and I have noticed striking similarities between most earthly mammals. I’m certain you can aid these afflicted souls. Heal as many as you can then summon me.”
-o-o-o-
MY VISION DARKENED, and I found myself and my guardian hawk standing outside a makeshift jail someone had created out of chain link fencing. The slaves had been forced to live in eight-foot by eight-foot cages topped with sheets of corrugated metal.
The still wind was awfully cold, and snow swirled through the cells. This jail had to be very high in the Andes.
The slaves were all short and black-haired, Inca Indians. Their clothes were in tatters, but no one made any effort to hide from the wind. These were very tough people.
Most of the cells I could see contained families. The doors to each cage were unlocked, but only a few cells were empty. It didn’t seem that these folks had anywhere to go.
As I approached the first cage, many people spoke to me. I couldn’t understand a word anyone said other than gracias and amigo. Nevertheless, the slaves kept up a constant conversation as I entered the first cage.
Ellen wouldn’t start looking for me until morning, so I had plenty of time to help. The former slaves all reeked from body odor. Not surprising because there didn’t seem to be any way for them to clean themselves. Each cage contained a bucket they used as a toilet, but lids kept that smell down.
I smiled to show my good intentions, and I shook hands with three men in the first cell. When I touched each person, images flashed through my mind of them being beaten by large men in gray fatigues who were armed with pistols and clubs.
My touch soothed each person and healed their wounds. They smiled at me, laughed, and talked, and I got a sense of their appreciation through their gestures. No wonder so many people want to be doctors or vets. My heart filled with joy at relieving their suffering.
-o-o-o-
Wednesday, June 14th
THROUGHOUT THE NIGHT, I took the time I needed to heal each person. Hands patted my back, and many began singing. Kids climbed on me, like I was a moving jungle gym, but I hardly noticed. I was much stronger than as a human, and if it made them happy, that was fine by me.
Luckily, no one was too far gone for me to save, although I could see and smell a hole nearby that their captors had used as a mass grave. Those souls were well beyond my reach, so I focused on the living.
Shortly before six a.m. Denver time, I finished my work and mentally called Milton. After a long delay, my guardian and I were transported to Ellen’s ranch. The old angel obviously wasn’t sitting on some cloud in Heaven waiting for me to give him something to do. I’d have to ask Cleo what other problems he was working to fix.
When I arrived home, I rested in my bedroom and read Paradise Lost until I heard Ellen moving around downstairs. I still couldn’t understand most of the poem, but I knew Milton was trying to convey something crucially important. I had to make more of an effort to understand him.
When I walked downstairs, I felt more than a
little guilty about keeping my secret from my sister, but she wouldn’t have believed me anyway. Instead she’d nod and start the paperwork to send me to the fanciest rubber room she and Dad could afford.
I headed to the kitchen. “I’ve been trying to understand that poem,” I told her, “but it’s way beyond me.”
She nodded. “Tell me about it. My professor had to explain Paradise Lost to us little by little. He saw layers of meaning in words that had gone right over my head.”
Most of it confused me, too. How could a spirit as brilliant and powerful as Milton stand to work with such an ignorant apprentice? I’d have to ask Cleo about that, too.
While pretending to eat, I watched the morning news shows. Fires were raging everywhere in the West. So many areas had suffered from droughts recently, and whenever high winds began, more flames seemed to spring out of nowhere. Demons had to be behind many of those blazes. Maybe that was part of what kept Milton so busy.
-o-o-o-
BY NINE A.M., it was already ninety degrees outside. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. I was repairing a section of barbed wire fence when Cleo popped out of the air in front of me wearing her nondescript body. “Good morning, Gabe.”
“Same back atcha.” These sudden appearances and vanishings didn’t surprise me as much anymore. “What brings you here?”
“Milton tells me you have a new idea about how to find demons. I thought we might try tonight.”
I hadn’t mentioned my scheme to the old angel, so he’d read my mind. I was going to have to get used to the fact that I couldn’t keep secrets from these immortals. “I have a revised plan for where we could look. Ellen usually goes to bed pretty early, about nine-thirty, so I should be free after that.”
“Let Milton know when you can leave. Where do we need to go?”
I thought about that. “We can probably start in the same place on the mall as last time, but we should investigate more upscale joints, I mean entertainment venues.”
She nodded. “He’ll send us to the spot on the mall where we appeared before.”
-o-o-o-
TWELVE HOURS LATER, I showed up at Sixteenth and Champa. Cleo was nowhere to be seen, so I killed time by turning on my phone and reading news articles about the fires raging all over the West.
Twenty minutes later or so, a man wearing a navy sport coat and khaki pants stepped in front of me. “Gabriel Townsend?”
Just that fast, I went to high alert. No human should’ve known where I was. “Maybe. Who’re you?”
The man held up a badge in his right hand. “FBI, Special Agent Benjamin Torino. Can I ask you a few questions about the recent forest fire?”
“Huh?” This is plain crazy. How had the FBI figured out where to find me, and why did they care?
I looked down at my phone. One video was still playing. This guy must’ve tracked me by finding my phone. But why would he want to ambush me after ten at night? His stern face told me he hadn’t shown up to give me some good conduct medal.
“Come on! You tracked me down here? Now?”
“Just a few questions, sir,” he said, “and I’ll get out of your hair.”
This was too creepy. The more he tried to act nonchalant, the more I knew something was seriously off. “Look, I’m happy to help you find whoever started that horrible fire, but I’m waiting for a friend now.”
He held his badge up like it had some power to make me talk. “Just a couple of quick answers and you’ll be done.”
What a pushy dude. I checked the guy’s badge more carefully, and it looked legit. Not that I’d recognize a fake one, but I wasn’t about to reveal any big secrets. “Okay, but you could’ve called first to make sure I’d have the time to help.”
Torino nodded. “I did. Twice, but you didn’t answer. To begin, just a formality, you have the right to remain silent. You—”
My tongue began to tingle. I’d been a cop. Miranda was a red flag that he intended to arrest me. I held up my hand to stop the agent. “I’d better talk to a lawyer first, and I’ve got no chance to find one at this time of night. Give me your card, and I’ll arrange for a meeting tomorrow.”
“Forget it then,” Torino replied. “I was being overly cautious.”
I ignored him and looked around to see if I could sneak away. That’s when Cleo appeared, standing in her full winged form next to the agent. She waved.
Relief flooded through me. She’d had tons of experience in dealing with trouble. You’re not going to believe who this guy is.
You have a knack for getting into trouble, Gabe.
I thought back, This is the FBI, a Federal cop. He wants me to waive my right to a lawyer and answer questions about the fire.
She burst out laughing. I just checked his mind. He thinks your friend Kevin started the conflagration that killed you! Torino believes he was seeking attention.
That explained why the FBI was so keen on finding me. They’re nuts. Kevin was sleeping when I first noticed the fire. If I hadn’t woken him up, he’d have been burned to a cinder. Now I’ll have to get a damned criminal defense attorney. They’re really expensive, and I’m broke.
She tittered with her usual wind chime melody. Silly, we have as much money as we need, and I can arrange for a lawyer now. Call Sid Rothman. Tell him Honah sent you. He’s the angel in charge of North America.
“Mr. Townsend?” Torino said. “Can we get this over with so we can both get on with our lives?”
“Back off,” I snapped. “You don’t have an arrest warrant, or we wouldn’t be standing here. I know a lawyer I can call.”
Although I didn’t believe any lawyer wanted to hear from me this late at night, I trusted Cleo and dialed a number she gave me. And I’d never met Honah, or even heard his name before she’d just mentioned it. I thought Milton supervised the USA.
A man with a gravelly voice answered. “This is my private line, and I don’t recognize your number. This had better be damned important.”
Just as I’d suspected, not happy at all. “Sorry to bother you, sir, I was referred to you by Honah, and I’m facing an FBI agent who just pounced on me with a bunch of questions about that big forest fire. I know, it’s—”
“Honah? Why didn’t you say so? No problem. Happy to help any friend of the chief’s. The FBI just ambushed you on the street, you say? That can’t be good. And what was your name?”
“Gabriel Townsend, sir. I’m standing on the Sixteenth Street Mall, and this guy with a badge, Torino is his name, seemed to pop out of nowhere. Then he starts going into that Miranda business. Just a formality, you know.”
Torino scowled at me, and I grinned back. I wasn’t going to fall for his tricks. To the lawyer, I asked, “What should I do?”
Rothman sighed. “Tell him I just happen to have time available, and I’m dying to meet him. Drop by my office in twenty minutes.”
He gave me an address near the State Capitol, which was at the southeastern end of the mall.
“My lawyer wants to meet you at his office. It’s this way.”
I led the way and hoped Torino would walk off, but he followed me. Cleo vanished, and a few seconds later walked up to me in her inconspicuous form as a normal Egyptian woman. I felt a lot better with her nearby.
She apologized for being late, and I introduced her to the Fed. He shook her hand but didn’t speak. Then I gave Cleo a short explanation of why I was visiting a lawyer so late.
“Mind if I tag along?” she asked.
“Not a bit,” I replied.
“I do,” the agent said. “This is official government business.”
Thank God, I’d been a cop. It was obvious Torino really needed to talk with me for some reason. As long as I was willing to answer questions, he’d put up with almost any condition I imposed. “Too bad. If you want to talk to me tonight, Cleo is part of the deal.”
The FBI guy scowled again. He seemed to do that a lot, but I ignored the sourpuss and kept heading southeast along the mall.
&nbs
p; Chapter 7
WHILE I WAS leading Torino and Cleo to Sid’s office, I kept an eye peeled for more trouble. This late at night, the mall was crowded with every possible sort of nut.
Sure enough, about fifty yards up ahead, a stocky blonde with a buzz cut staggered as she walked toward us. She was screaming at a guy next to her and punching him in the chest. He held his hands up as though trying to calm her down.
It wasn’t working. She kept yelling, “You bastard!”
Torino stared at her for a moment, as though uncertain, then looked past her.
The woman tried to land a roundhouse punch on the guy next to her, but she swung her fist so slowly, he easily caught it in his hand.
Then I noticed a tall guy in a Rockies t-shirt sneaking up behind the couple. He had a grin on his face like Christmas had come early. I told Cleo, What’s the guy behind the couple doing?
Vampire trouble. When Milton heard that the governor might know about you, he decided to increase your security. Griffin has been flying above you the whole time you’ve been at the mall.
So, I was in danger. The vampire could just as easily have jumped me before I realized the threat he posed. Milton hadn’t been exaggerating.
A few seconds later, the red-tailed hawk appeared and landed behind Rockies Guy. The bird turned into a tall, lean angel wearing a white gown who opened a pair of tan and white wings behind him. Then he yelled something in a language I didn’t understand.
That stopped Rockies Guy from jumping the couple, and he whirled to face the angel. Both reached behind the backs of their necks at the same time.
Everybody in view froze in their tracks—all except me and the other immortals.
My mind flooded with questions, but this wasn’t the time to bug Cleo.
A silver handle appeared behind the vampire’s neck, and he grabbed it. With a smooth motion, he pulled the handle up and forward. Red flames bent into an arc over his head, and a three-foot-long stream of fire straightened into a blazing sword. That had to be one of the cursed weapons Milton had mentioned.
Forged by Fire (Angels at the Edge Book 1) Page 6