REVELATION (THE REVELATION SERIES)

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REVELATION (THE REVELATION SERIES) Page 10

by Randi Cooley Wilson


  I turn back to Asher. “The last bloodline of Heaven?” I say again more as a question than statement, disbelief in my voice, uncertain I want to hear his response. I might also internally be questioning his sanity.

  “What you need to know is that The Angelic Council, in an attempt to save Heaven in the event of a war with Hell, allowed a redeemer to be planted within mankind. That redeemer has an archangel’s soul spirit and Heaven’s pure blood running through their veins. A blood so pure nothing could taint it. Not evil, not demon, not even Lucifer himself. By doing so, the council guaranteed this liberator would redeem mankind, allowing Heaven to prevail in the war,” Asher explains in a calm, even manner.

  I sit unmoving, staring quizzically at Asher. Not sure how to process this information and more so, wondering if he’s lost his fucking marbles.

  “Are you being serious?” I ask, dumbfounded.

  “Yes,” he responds guardedly, obviously waiting for me to snap.

  “Wait, you think I’m this savior?” I exhale in disbelief. I break into hysterics. “That’s hilarious.”

  The room is still silent. Everyone’s vigilantly focused on me, not laughing. “You do realize how absolutely fucking ridiculous this sounds?” I look around at all their stoic faces.

  “Eve, I realize this is impractical to comprehend, but we’re being truthful with you. You’re the redeemer. You just don’t know it yet. Since birth, you’ve been protected and hidden within mundane humans. Your bloodline didn’t ascend until you turned eighteen. That’s when you began your ascension,” he continues as if I’m the crazy person.

  I shake my head. “You’re wrong. I lived with my aunt. My parents died when I was a baby. I am uninteresting and normal. I don’t even register on the ordinary chart. And what’s ascension? What are you even talking about?” I ramble because I’m starting to put pieces together in my mind and don’t like the way they’re panning out.

  “That part is really for Michael to explain to you. We’re under certain restrictions per the laws we follow and the oath we’ve taken. We’re only permitted to tell you who we are and why you might be in danger,” Keegan states with a formality to his tone.

  I give him a point blank look. “Who’s Michael?”

  He slowly shakes his head from side to side. “Not yet, Eve. We can’t tell you. I’m sorry.”

  I turn back to Asher, beyond baffled. “You said I have the spirit of an archangel and the blood of Heaven? How is that even possible?” I try to decipher. “Are you trying to say I’m an angel?” I begin to unravel at what they’re alluding to and the lack of information being provided.

  “No. You’re not an angel. You’re human. Michael will better explain who you are and what it is you’re destined to do at another time. I’m only allowed to share why you’re in danger and need our protection,” Asher says in an attempt to pacify me.

  I narrow my eyes at him in astonishment. “You can’t tell me? Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?” I shout then stand and pace. Callan and Abby come next to me, flanking each side. I’m not sure who they are protecting me or Asher from my wrath.

  Asher stands and walks toward me. “There are many things that will be revealed to you in time. I can’t tell you everything right now. It’s simply not allowed. What I do know is that I, along with my family, will protect you from anything that wishes to cause you harm. I promise you. It’s why we’re here and what we do. We’re protectors.”

  “Like the dog you attempted to convince me was rabid, that type of protection?” I spit angrily.

  He stares at me, pleading with his eyes for me to calm.

  I stop pacing and face him. “Who is Michael?”

  Stillness.

  It’s Abby who speaks. “Michael the Archangel.”

  I snap my head toward her then scoff. “Michael the Archangel? The one from Heaven who banished Adam and Eve? That Michael?” I nod my head like a lunatic. “Oh, okay. That makes sense. Right, of course,” I say in a slightly hysterical tone.

  “Abigail.” Her name is a warning from Keegan.

  She shrugs. “She needs this information. You can’t hide everything from her, oaths or not.”

  I look between the two. “Okay. Well, please call him. Get Michael here to inform me of the situation, because I’m really looking forward to that meeting,” I shriek wildly.

  McKenna steps up in front of me. “Not that I want to encourage the psychotic episode you’re obviously having, even though I’m enjoying it, but Michael doesn’t present himself at your beck and call. He arrives when HE is willing.”

  I look at her like she’s bat-shit crazy, because clearly she is. They all are. They’re all out of their ever-loving minds. I’m not sure what snapped but something did and I lunge for McKenna only to be stopped in mid-air by Callan.

  “Easy, cutie. I know this is a lot to take in, but take a breath and just calm down,” Callan soothes, releasing me.

  Callan and I stare hard at one another. I sigh. “Are you saying that the Archangel Michael is not only in contact with you, but will come down from Heaven to convene with me and answer questions as well as discuss my lineage?” I ask, eerily calm.

  Quiet. They’re obviously scared to set off another episode.

  I turn to Asher. “You’re telling me that you, a man who’s standing in front of me, saying he will protect me, won’t answer my questions but an archangel from Heaven can?” I end with a slight inflection.

  Asher stills me by grasping my upper arms and locking his eyes on mine. My traitorous body immediately responds to his, soothed by his touch. I really need to learn how to control that.

  “I said we couldn’t tell you, not that we didn’t want to. There are laws, rules, and protocol that must be followed.” Asher growls in frustration.

  “What are the consequences of breaking the law and telling me?” I’m irritated.

  “Dire,” Keegan says. A chill runs through my veins as I look to Abby. She shrugs like it’s no big deal that she revealed information to me.

  “What does this all mean?” I ask the room, but specifically Keegan. For some reason, I know he’ll get to the point and be honest.

  “It means you’re the redeemer that was created to bring salvation to mankind and end the war between Heaven and Hell and we’re here to protect you,” Keegan says pointedly.

  Defeated, I huff out a breath, sit on the coffee table, and put my head in my hands, letting this conversation sink in. “Okay, let’s say I believe you about my bloodline, the Archangel Michael, and that I’m some weapon fated to end this long standing war.” I look up at Asher. “Who are you and why do I need your protection?”

  “As we mentioned before, we’re in private security. We are protectors and guardians. Our lineage permits us to watch over people and things we are bound or spiritually connected to. Our clan’s birthright dates back many centuries. Our families have been doing this for a long time, Eve,” Asher states with a proud smirk.

  “Are you guardian angels or something? Is that the tie to Michael? You’ve been assigned to be my guardian angels?” I ask in wonder.

  “No,” Asher says tersely. “We are most certainly not guardian angels or even celestial for that matter.”

  “We receive a lot of divine assignments and charges. Our ancestry is suited to those types of missions. As you may recall, the dragon symbol is a protection against evil spirits and beings,” Callan reminds me.

  I stare at the group. “You’re all protectors? Even Abby and McKenna?”

  Keegan answers, “Yes.”

  I turn to McKenna. “Your bedside manner sucks for a sentinel of godly charges.”

  This causes Callan to let out a loud, deep laugh and Asher to hide his smile. Abby giggles in a light, warm tone. McKenna just snorts, but I can tell she respects the jab.

  “I notice all of you have Celtic cross tattoos. Do they have meaning?” I glance at the tattoo on Asher’s arm, curbing my want to reach out and touch it.

  “Yes. It means th
is clan has declared its allegiance to, and abides by the laws set through, The Spiritual Assembly of Protectors. They’re a ruling body who oversees a certain sect of our,” Asher pauses, looking for the right word, as if he is still hiding something, “kinship.”

  Keegan nods approvingly at Asher’s answer while I turn to Abby and McKenna.

  “Do you both have the Celtic cross tattoo? I don’t see them on you,” I accuse.

  Abby and McKenna both push up the beaded stone bracelets they always wear and I see smaller identical tattoos on their wrists.

  Callan sits down on the coffee table next to me. “You okay, cutie? I know it’s a lot to take in.”

  I just sit stationary. I lift my gaze and lock eyes with Asher’s, the strange energy humming between us again. Even in this moment, all I can think about is how good-looking he is. How can he not be divine?

  “Why did Michael inject you with my blood?” I ask, the question coming out harsher than I intend.

  He flinches at my tone. “I was put in charge of you as your main warden. I needed to be bound to you in order to do my job properly. The blood bond allows me shared access to certain aspects of our connection, enabling me to look out for you better,” he says with trepidation.

  I’m lost again. “What connections? How is that possible? Human blood to human blood is just extra blood in your veins? How does it unite us?”

  Asher gives me a sympathetic look. “I can’t answer that now, siren.”

  I sigh, tired and agitated. “Why you?” It comes out like an accusation.

  “Why me what? Why am I the one in charge of you?” he demands, sounding a bit insulted I questioned his position.

  “Yes.” Asher’s eyes dart past me, landing on the windows with a faraway look on his face. This is his tactic when contemplating how to answer me.

  Keegan decides to answer in his place. “Eve, it’s because he’s not mated. If he was, he wouldn’t be allowed to share a blood link with a charge.”

  I look at Keegan, awaiting further explanation. He doesn’t offer any.

  “Mated?” I scan the room for an answer before landing back on Asher.

  He stands, keeping his eyes fixed on mine as he moves his hand to the hem of his t-shirt. He pulls it up over his muscular stomach, above his taut chest, and off his broad shoulders. Crap. Whatever blood was left in my brain just relocated itself to the lower portion of my body.

  Oh my god. I thought Asher was stunning with his shirt on but without, it’s an entirely different ballgame. He swallows his nerves as I take him all in. All I can do is stare at his throat. Watching it move up and down in a sexy motion with each nervous swallow. Finally regaining control of my hormones, my eyes roam over his chest and land on a circular, tribal, dragon tattoo adorning his faultless body over his left pectoral muscle. I’m not sure why but I am completely fixated on it.

  In slow motion, he turns so his back is facing me, allowing me to view a large, black, abstract dragon tattoo that covers his entire back. It’s centered and runs from his shoulders to his waist. The dragon’s head and wings are the only literal elements on the artwork. The rest of the dragon is done in barbed wire designs made to look like flames. It’s stunning.

  He turns back to me, his face guarded. “The tattoo on my back is my clan tattoo. Each one of us has one,” he explains in a gentle manner. “This,” he points to the circular tattoo over his heart area, “is the protector tattoo that was injected with your blood for the bond.”

  This art is equally beautiful. Once again, done in all black, there is an outer circle designed in a barbed wire swerve pattern with points. The inside resembles an abstract yin and yang symbol but is open and airy. The left side conceptually outlines fire and the right side a dragon.

  Asher’s eyes and face are cautious as he observes me appraising the work of art. I have the strongest urge to get up and run my hands over the protector tattoo. It’s drawing me to it, beckoning me to unite with it. I don’t even realize I’ve moved closer to Asher until my hand is tracing the lines of the art, caressing it with the lightest contact.

  At my touch, Asher sucks in a harsh breath and his body shudders. My hand touching the tattoo begins to drown in a warm sensation, heating my entire body. I can’t pull it away, almost as if a force greater than my own will is magnetically holding me there.

  I have tunnel vision. All I can see is Asher, as if he and I are the only two in the room and everything else fades away. The energy increases between us the longer I have contact with the tattoo.

  Without warning, Callan is behind me, guiding my hand away, helping me lower it. As soon as my hand is released, the warmth and wholeness I felt disappears, leaving me empty and cold. I shiver in withdrawal as Asher’s body jolts in what appears to be pain.

  “Easy there, cutie,” Callan whispers in my ear.

  As if snapping out of a trance, I returned my gaze to Asher’s. His face shows pure ecstasy, like my touch pleases him more than anything else in the world. His indigo eyes seem to be glowing.

  Keegan speaks in a low, demanding voice. “Drak om in-ex Asher de al grav cal-ort.” At this command, Asher is released from his entrancement. He closes his eyes and shakes his head, returning a cold, angry look at me.

  “What just happened?” I don’t even recognize my own quivering voice.

  “You’re drawn to the protector mark through the blood bond. When you touch it, it increases the link between you and Asher. Your blood runs through the maze pattern so you’re naturally pulled to it. That’s what allows you two to share connections and emotions, as if mated,” Keegan says emphatically.

  Not fully understanding, I focus on something else. “What language did you just use and what did you say?” I ask Keegan.

  His look is guarded. “It’s our protector’s language. It’s called Garish, an old form of the Gaelic dialogue. I asked the dragon spirit to release Asher from the bond hold, which he was under due to your touch. The longer you’re bonded, the better he’ll control it.”

  I look to everyone. “You all have this tattoo as well?”

  They nod in confirmation. “And the one on Asher’s back?”

  “Only Keegan, Callan, and I have that one. It’s a family crest,” Asher states.

  “Each family of protectors has their own distinguishing tattoo. Ours is the dragon symbol. It’s our clan’s identifying protector mark. It also ties us to the dragon spirit, allowing us to guard others and ourselves from evil,” Keegan offers.

  “Eves, in order for Asher to protect you, he needed to bond with you as his charge. Michael provided him a vial of your blood and injected the tattoo with it, allowing Asher to become your primary protector guardian. It’s a very noble and prestigious honor he was bestowed by Michael, The Angelic Council, and The Spiritual Assembly of Protectors,” Callan explains.

  “How did Michael even get a vial of my blood?” I ask, shaking off the spell.

  “Your Aunt Elizabeth. That’s all we can offer. Michael will explain more when he speaks to you,” Keegan states.

  “Alright, then, I guess no answers today on how my Aunt Elizabeth ties into all of this?” I look around at the group. They are avoiding eye contact. Great, what’s one more secret?

  Realization hits me. That’s why we are drawn to one another. The link to his charge. Hurt floods me. I thought he and I were attracted to one another but it’s all because of the bond.

  “That’s how we’re connected? Why I feel rushes of warmth and energy when we’re near one another,” I whisper in a disheartened voice.

  Before Asher can answer, I sigh in defeat.

  “Eve,” Asher says gently. “Keegan is correct. Regardless of whatever’s going on in your head right now, it is a great honor for me to be your protector.”

  I raise a cold, hard stare to him. “What are you protecting me from?”

  Asher sits on the couch in front of me, shirt back in place, knees touching mine and returning some of the warmth I lost earlier. He reaches for m
y hands but then thinks better of it, dropping his before they capture mine. He glances at Keegan, who nods in confirmation for Asher to disclose what it is I am in danger from.

  “In the dreams you’re having, you mentioned being chased by something called Nero,” he prods. I nod my head in confirmation.

  “Nero works for Lucifer. He’s a Belker. An evil being that appears in the form of smoke and can take the shape and form of man. If provoked, it will strike without mercy.” He pauses, waiting for this information to sink in.

  I sit in silence.

  “The Barghest, or the rabid dog, is another demonic creature we think was released by Lucifer. He’s a Hellhound sent to track your scent and find out if you are being protected,” Keegan informs me.

  Asher takes my hands in his, causing the energy hum to happen again. “Eve, do you understand what we are saying to you?” he asks with a low, gentle tone.

  “Are you saying Lucifer and all his demonic beings are after me?” I ask in a pensive state.

  He takes my chin in his hand and locks his eyes with mine so deeply I shiver. “Eve, you are the key to the war between Heaven and Hell. To Heaven, you’re the weapon that tips the scale in their favor. To Hell, you’re a danger to every single seed of corruption, evil presence, demonic being, and Lucifer’s entire legion of dark spirits.”

  “Oh shit!” It comes out low, in the form of a breath I’ve been holding.

  Callan lets out a forced laugh. “Oh shit is right, cutie.”

  My eyes dart around the room. “I need to speak to Michael. Now,” I demand.

  10 Revelation

  I sit staring at the fire. I’m numb as the flames dance to their own rhythm, lulling me. Asher has been restlessly pacing the hallway since I came into the library to reflect, alone. Abby walks in. She offers a timid smile and hands me a cup of hot cocoa. “Asher said you prefer the mini marshmallows and dark chocolate.”

  Directing her gaze to the fire, she talks to me as if speaking to a child who just had a nightmare. Only mine is real. “Aria called. She said she sent you several texts so she, and I quote, ‘freaked the fuck out’ at your whereabouts. I let her know you were staying here with us tonight. Might be best given the circumstances.”

 

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