The blond one diverted his gaze as I hung there for all to see. “Camael, please. Enough is enough. She’s done nothing—”
Camael reached over to a button on a metal contraption and pressed it, sending me even higher into the air. “She’s done plenty, Uriel, or have you forgotten that I was the one to find them all those years ago?”
“No, no.” The man stepped toward him, rubbing his brow vehemently as he shook his head. “No one is questioning that. I just think there has to be another way.”
Camael’s icy gaze settled on me once again as he watched a cluster of black liquid fall to the ground. “There are plenty of ways, but none that will get my point across as quickly. Isn’t that right, my dear?”
“Fuck you,” I choked through the waves of agony.
“My, my,” he snorted. “The things you learn in a few thousand years’ worth of evolution.”
“I’ve already told you,” I spat. “I don’t know where he is.”
“No,” he said as he pursed his lips, “but I do, and that is the part that matters. Elias, if you please.”
My attention darted to a scrawny brunet standing at the far end of the warehouse, where strips of vinyl divided the areas. Elias produced Adam in a far worse state of disarray. Unlike the burns that had seared and blackened my flesh and left my wings in pieces, Adam’s whole body was a spider web of red and black where the flesh bordered on charcoal.
Blistered. Boiled. Destroyed.
Had I thought that been the worst part, I would have been wrong.
The shackles on his wrists and ankles were nothing compared to the ones binding his wings together. Like something reminiscent of a pterodactyl, all of the beauty and serenity was gone. There were no lush feathers covering the skeletal frame, only shreds and pieces of skin. He stood there before me, a silent understanding passing between the two of us as he did. He had been here the entire time, forced to watch the torture inflicted as they tested my resolve and commitment to a man I could not recall.
We both knew that, for better or worse, I had accepted my fate.
The one called Elias shoved Adam roughly to the ground. My broken angel with eyes like the ocean knelt before me, his clothes just as tattered as his soul, blood caking what remained.
For a long time he said nothing. With silence my only friend, it took everything I had just to keep from screaming. But now that I saw him still conscious and half-dead, it seemed foolish to open my mouth again except to speak.
Camael stepped between us. “I’d like to take this opportunity to let you know, my darling Eve, that Adam here has refused to cooperate either. You two really are two of a kind.”
“Fuck you, you spineless dick,” I seethed. “Stop playing games and just tell me what you want. Why are you doing this?”
“Why I’m doing this?” Camael balked at me, blinking confusedly. “Are you daft?”
“I’m truly pissed,” I said, squirming and twisting as I struggled.
“I’m sure you are, dear,” he snorted again. “Then you’ll be really pissed to know what I’m about to do next. Elias, if you please.”
Elias and another guy yanked Adam to his feet, holding him in place. “Got ’em.”
Camael nodded and held his hand out to his side, a whirling nebula of crimsons and yellows emanating in the air beneath his hands. The cluster whirled and condensed, solidifying into the shape of a sword.
He held up the flaming blade, admiring its evanescent form as it ebbed and flowed. “Adam, you remember Lamafuere, don’t you? I borrowed it from a friend.”
Adam only stared at him, his jaw tempered like steel as we all awaited what we knew would come next.
The gray-eyed man signaled for the others to bring him forward, leaving Adam just enough time to struggle in vain once more. “Adam, it’s been a long time since anyone’s seen you in that tropical paradise. Do send my regards.”
And with that, Camael plunged the flaming sword between the chains encasing Adam, straight into his chest, severing his heart instantly.
Blood pooled from Adam’s lips as he struggled not to cough. His two captors released him as he collapsed to the cold concrete beneath him.
He was dead.
Tears flooded from my eyes before I could help myself. I was trapped with no way out. I closed my eyes, unable to look at the dead man at my feet. I barely knew him, and yet I was certain he had not deserved it. “I will kill you, you bastard!” I spit through my teeth.
“One day I’m sure you will, my dear,” Camael laughed, his amusement never ceasing. “But for now, I have a more fitting present for one such as yourself. Elias?”
Elias reached into the chest pocket of his overcoat, pulled out an ornate gold Peacemaker, and handed it to the gray-eyed man.
Camael admired the pistol for a moment before rotating open the chamber. He reached into his pocket, producing a bullet from its depths, and loaded it into the gun.
“You’re human, right, Amelia, as you call yourself these days?” he quipped as he waved the gun in my direction, settling the barrel right between my eyes.
I could feel the cold steel against my forehead, my eyes locked on Adam’s corpse below me.
“You don’t mind if I use this, do you, Amelia?”
“Screw you.” I mustered what spit I could into his face, more of it blood than saliva now that the chains had worked their magic long enough.
He wiped his face with the back of his glove. “You always were a scrappy one, weren’t you?” He pulled back the hammer on the pistol. “Do send my regards to your betrothed should you see him again, though I must imagine it won’t be for some time.”
CHAPTER TEN
The realization that I wasn’t dead hit me the moment my body jolted awake in bed. I stared wildly at my surroundings, trying to take in everything that had just happened. The wet, metallic smell had left my senses, leaving behind the sterile scent that could only accompany a hospital. IVs snaked their venom down my arms. The pale green hospital gown hid my body from the harsh fluorescent lights that plagued my sight. And I knew for certain where I had ended up.
I slid off the end of the bed and raced to the window, the same window I had been standing at months before. Snow lined the sidewalks and grounds around St. Mary’s. The frozen liquid was tinted red from the lights of parked ambulances unloading intake patients. People raced across the blacktop, scurrying to their cars in the bitter cold. The weather was the complete opposite of where I had just left. Somehow, I traveled the two thousand miles back across the country without any action on my part.
There was a light rapping on the door and in walked an overly joyous Dr. Willard with two interns in identical lab coats bounding in after him. “Good evening, Amelia. It’s good to see you’re up and about. You’re feeling better I take it?”
“What?” I ignored the curious glances from the interns, their eyes rapt on the IVs traversing the air like spider webs as they made their way over to where I stood.
The doctor’s confusion matched my own, forcing him to flip through the chart he carried. “You haven’t been out of bed and on your feet since you were admitted two and a half months ago.”
“What are you talking about? You just released me, like three days ago,” I whispered in disbelief. “What day is it?”
“It’s Monday,” Dr. Willard answered cautiously, staring at me for a second before reverting his attention to the paperwork. “Are you telling me that you don’t remember what day of the week it is?”
There was an underlying warning in his tone that told me I needed to tread carefully, that there were worse places than the hospital. What he didn’t know was that even the psych ward compared little against the threat of Hell.
It didn’t matter. They’d never believe me. “I need to leave, doctor,” I said simply.
The man in the lab coat set down the clipboard on the rollaway cart at the end of my bed. “Amelia, would you please come sit down with me?” he asked as he held out his hand for me
to take.
Once some of the shock had worn off and I stepped toward him, I found myself weaker than I expected.
“Easy now,” he said as he grabbed my elbow and helped me back onto the uncomfortable cot. “Now why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”
I licked my lips, searching for the words that would keep me out of a straitjacket. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but something important has come up.” I fondled the intake band on my wrist.
He smiled at me and nodded to the interns behind him, allowing them to leave us to ourselves. “Does this have something to do with what we discussed the other day?”
The blank look escaped me before I could help myself. “I— I don’t—”
“I understand this has been very difficult for you. Most people in your position go through the same thing even if it hadn’t reached this level of severity.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Your reaction,” Dr. Willard answered. “It’s completely natural. Anyone told they’re dying goes through some denial. I wish it could be different, Amelia; I really do, but God has a plan for each of us, even if we don’t understand it.”
I blinked. Not only had time reversed, but apparently so had my condition. “I’m dying?”
The oncologist looked even more somber, almost as if it hurt him to re-explain it to me. “Amelia, it’s metastasized into your brain, and we can’t operate without risking permanent paralysis.”
“This is ridiculous,” I snapped. “I’ve already gone through this. I was cured. You discharged me.”
“No, Amelia.”
“I know this sounds crazy, but you have to believe me,” I said as I reached for my sweater-coat on the chair beside the bed. “I can’t explain it, but I promise everything will be okay.”
There was that frown again. “Amelia, we just took an MRI yesterday. I am under a legal and moral obligation not to release you until you have a mental health evaluation which I’m doubtful you’ll pass.”
At that moment I realized I wasn’t going to get anywhere with the guy. Either I could wait for him to leave and escort myself out, or I could say damn the consequences and escort myself out now.
I looked around and made a quick mental note of what it would take to get me out of here. Three IV cords, a heart rate monitor, and two other cords I had no idea what they did, bound me to this place. I could get out of here in about thirty seconds if I took the time to throw on my jeans, a good idea given the weather outside. The idea of forcing myself past him and managing to escape this wing of the hospital before security caught wind of my trail was far less likely than if I just waited for him to leave.
The sight of Adam was burned into my mind, haunting me with every breath I took. I didn’t even know how long I had to waste. How long could someone last in a place like that?
I didn’t think to question whether Camael was telling the truth or not after what I had seen.
There was no need to question him; his threats were real.
If I wanted to help Adam, I had to get out of here. More importantly, I had to find someone or something that could help.
I flashed Dr. Willard a dazzling smile. “I’m sorry. I’m just really tired. I must not be thinking clearly.”
I could see the suspicion in his eyes, but for some reason that that I couldn’t fathom, he trusted me. Had I been a person of lesser character, I could have taken advantage of his kindness. All I wanted from him was solitude; I’d handle the rest.
Disappointment lined his face. It didn’t take four years of medical school to know what I was about to do, but at least this way, he could not be held accountable for my actions. It made me feel less guilty.
He was a nice enough man; I wasn’t purposely trying to sabotage his career.
I waited until he left the room and had enough time to reach the nurses’ station before shoving my jeans on under the hospital gown. I glanced at the machines tying me in place; none of them threatened to alert the nurses should one of them go down. Hospitalized I might be, but I wasn’t about to take any chances. Gathering the rest of my things took all of twenty seconds. Packing light had served me well.
Before I could convince myself not to, I ripped the three IVs out of my arms and hand and sought to undo the remaining cords. Like a marionette breaking free of its puppeteer, I shed my ties and slipped my jacket over my head, zipping it up to hide the fact that I was naked beneath it.
Upon arriving at the hospital, I had thrown up so much blood that it was a wonder my pants and jacket survived. The cotton tank top, once a pearly shade of white, had looked more like a can of red paint had exploded on it. The nurses had made sure to dispose of it before I even had a chance to protest.
Before the machines could start making any noises, I reached around the equipment and yanked the cords from the wall. I’d be long out of the room by the time they realized there was no longer a signal coming from room 221. The door was ajar enough that I could see the hallway clearly now that the doctor had gone. A serving cart divided the corridor in half, hiding me from prying eyes should they be aimed in my direction.
Just as I turned to leave, something knocked the wind from my lungs before I could do anything. A solid wall that wasn’t there moments before. I glanced up to find that my worst fears had been realized.
Camael stood inches away, his eyes burning with unspoken delight. It was like meeting the eyes of a viper and not knowing whether to fight or flee. “Good to see you again, Eve,” Camael the orderly purred.
The fear suddenly threatened to choke me. “What do you want, Camael?”
“I’m impressed you remembered my name.” He smiled again. “Most people would be clawing their own eyes out after being in our presence. I’m amazed your brain hasn’t turned to pudding after so many years in the human world.”
“What have you done with Adam?”
Camael laughed. “He’s back where he belongs, somewhere a little more fitting for one of his nature. It’s been so long since Hell’s seen him that I’m sure they’ll welcome him with arms wide open.”
I tried to slip past him only to find his arm barred me. “I will kill you for what you’ve done to him,” I growled as I slapped his arm away.
The angel laughed wholeheartedly. It only pissed me off more to know he truly thought it funny.
“Good luck with that, ma chere.”
He was gone in a flash, disappearing from my sight as quickly as I could blink. The only distinguishable tell that he was ever there was the slight rippling his wings made as he left, distorting the air around me.
I glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was closing in on midnight, and I had nowhere to go.
Two thousand miles away from where all of this had started, I had no idea who or what could help me. I knew nothing about Heaven and even less about Hell. Like most people of a non-religious nature, I’d considered angels to be the stuff of fiction, a figment of mans’ imagination created to exact both divine retribution and mercy. Two sides of a coin, controlled by God, but I knew them for what they were: unpredictable, fallible, immortal, illogical, and archaic. They were as varied in nature as the colors in a kaleidoscope.
My first stop once I made it off hospital grounds was to the antiquated payphone across the street. Calling anyone at home would serve no purpose, let alone the fact that it was risky had I cared even the slightest about those I left behind. I no longer had any room for my old life; that much was evident.
I had become someone new, or more aptly put, someone old.
Adam. The first man upon the earth and I, his consort, Eve. It all sounded so ludicrous, so insane that a trip to the psych-ward didn’t sound so bad. But it was all true, and I couldn’t remember a damned thing. Nothing that could actually help me.
What was I? Human, angel? Alive, dead?
As the second oldest Homo sapien on the planet, evolution be damned, I wasn’t religious enough to spout Genesis. I needed help; I needed to go somewhere that would mak
e sense of all of this.
Before I could read too much into it, I noticed St. Christopher’s Cathedral a little down the street. An over-the-top, old-fashioned cathedral that headed the Catholic diocese in the area, St. Christopher’s was a spectacular display of early Christian art and modern mosaics.
The cobblestone path leading into the church filled me with trepidation. With each step I took, the walkway shortened. I couldn’t help but worry about what would happen once I crossed over the threshold. The likelihood of me bursting into flames seemed almost as insane as the thought that my biography was written thousands of years ago by people in robes whom I had never met.
A daughter of Eden, of Paradise, the one place where all of humanity strove to return to without thought to the consequences. Countless wars had been waged, countries destroyed, lives obliterated, all for the chance to return to God’s kingdom. And I had left it willingly—some would say swayed by the Devil—the first true demonstration of the free will of humanity.
And I was completely screwed.
I pushed open the large oak door. The brass handle was cold in my hands as I slipped into the tabernacle. As the door slid shut with a muted thump, there were no devils rising from the pews or priests surrounding me to send me on my way. Instead, it was quiet, like one would naturally expect of such a place. The only light came from the half-burned candles piled at either corner of the cathedral and the enormous chandelier softly glistening above me like stars in the firmament.
The haunted sound of my footsteps against the marble tile was all the noise in the deserted building. There were no church organs ringing out, no rosaries being said by old women kneeling around the statue of the Virgin Mary. If others were in the cathedral, they were probably in the rectory, and that was fine with me.
I had to figure out what to say.
One of the grand stained-glass windows that nearly stretched to the ceiling caught my attention as I reached the end of the center aisle. Even from where I stood, I could see the mosaic for what it was.
The Archangel Michael plunging his fiery sword into the chest of Lucifer.
FALL FROM PARADISE Page 5