DARK SOULS (Angels and Demons Book 2)

by Brenda L. Harper

  Raphael sat back again, reaching up to scratch the side of his face. “It is difficult to live as a human, to feel human emotions, and not be drawn to the human condition. I met a woman whom I felt strong, human feelings for. And she, in turn, was drawn to me. I knew if God did not approve, he would not allow it to happen. But he did, and my men and I found happiness with the people of Earth. But when the children were born, and they were giants, unable to control their hungers, God called us home and forbade future involvement with the humans.”

  “Why punish you and not the other angels who broke the same rules?”

  A sadness widened Raphael’s eyes and made them seem darker than they’d been before. “I was his favorite, one who was well trusted. The others who’d broken this rule, they were lesser angels, not archangels. But for me to commit such a sin…it was unforgiveable.”

  “Yet, if you hadn’t, Dylan wouldn’t exist.”

  Raphael’s chin rose. “My Netanya would be quite pleased to know that her descendant is such a great leader.”

  “Netanya? Your wife?”

  “Yes. She was a beautiful woman, very kind, and she often worried about the legacy our children would leave behind. To see that one of her blood line has become the savior would give her great joy.”

  Stiles could see the love in Raphael’s eyes as he spoke of his human wife. It reminded him of Rebecca. And it made him wonder…

  “What about your soul mate?”

  Raphael inclined his head slightly. “My soul mate found a human spouse of her own during that time. She understands the connection I felt—and still feel—to Netanya. She has the same connection with her Aron.”

  “So, you and your soul mate were together on Earth during that time?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you didn’t feel a physical connection with your human bodies?”

  “The soul mate connection is different here on Earth than it is in heaven. Aria and I understand one another. We don’t need to be in direct contact with one another here as we do in heaven.”

  Stiles understood that. He and Joanna…there was never that kind of connection between them here on Earth. There was a certain pull on his soul whenever they were close, but when they were apart, he didn’t miss the connection as he might if there had been a stronger bond. He supposed there was a different sort of bond between each set of soul mates, depending on any number of things. It made him wonder if Rebecca had been a full-blooded angel, if there could have been a threat to Joanna’s hold on him in the early years of their relationship, or if he could have tethered himself to her after Joanna’s disappearance and experienced a different kind of connection.

  Then again, when his aura mixed with Dylan’s it was such a different experience, he wasn’t sure that what he had with Joanna was ever really a true soul mate connection. Was it possible that God occasionally got it wrong and that was why some connections were stronger than others?

  As much as he hated using Lucifer as an example for anything, there was clearly a strong bond between him and Lily. Was that what Stiles had to look forward to with Dylan? Or would their bond be even stronger?

  Was all this because of Dylan’s unique nature. Or did it have more to do with the history she and Stiles had shared?

  He wasn’t sure he would ever, truly, understand the soul mate bond. And if he couldn’t, how would he ever explain it to Dylan?

  Chapter 17

  Dylan was still pacing when Rachel came into the room. She paused, watching her come toward her with a little hesitation in her step.

  “Raphael?”

  Dylan shrugged. “It was a surprise to me, too.”

  Rachel held up her arms and offered Dylan a hug. It was nice, something normal with one member of her family.

  “How’s Wyatt?” Rachel asked as she pulled back.

  “He was fine the last time I saw him.”

  “When was that?”

  Dylan curled up in a chair, tucking her legs underneath her. “It’s been almost a week, I think.”

  “You think?”

  “He’s busy in the capital, and I’ve been chasing these demons.”

  “Yeah, but it’s not like the two of you to avoid each other. Is there something going on?” Rachel sat in a chair beside Dylan and took her hand, rubbing it between both of hers. “Is everything okay?”

  Dylan looked at her, not seeing a mature woman sitting beside her, but instead the child she’d pulled out of time forty years ago. The sight of her hiding in that cabinet, and then of her in Jimmy’s arms, was one she would not soon forget. It had been the first time she’d seen such affection in Wyatt’s father, the first time she realized that there was more to him—to all humanity—than what met the eye.

  She leaned over and kissed her cheek lightly. “Don’t worry about Wyatt and me. We’re fine.”

  Rachel nodded. “I’ve heard rumblings. We have people pass through here from the cities up north, and some of them have been talking about the council’s attempt to rid the world of angels.”

  Dylan groaned as she settled back against her chair, her head resting on the soft upholstery. “It’s not a rumor. They want Stiles and I to disappear so they can prove they can stand on their own two feet.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Yes, well, they think they can stop another angel war if they show us they don’t need us.”

  “But we do need you.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t know how much help I’ve been so far. I still can’t figure out how to stop these things.”

  “You will. You just have to stop pushing yourself so hard.” Rachel stood up and held out her hand. “And the first thing you should do is get some sleep.”

  Dylan took her hand and allowed Rachel to lead her out of her office and to a bedroom at the back of the building. Dylan hadn’t realized quite how exhausted she was until she saw the bed. Rachel helped her into bed, tucking her in as if she was a child in the dorms again. Dylan curled up and was asleep in seconds. But it wasn’t to be a restful sleep.

  The dreams began almost as soon as Dylan closed her eyes, people calling to her for help. So many people, thousands of voices, asking for everything from help with their children to more rain for their crops to protection from the demons. Dylan couldn’t block them out; she could not make the screams stop. One, the image of a young girl being ripped to pieces by the demons, finally woke her.

  She sat up in the darkness of an unfamiliar room. She reached for Wyatt before she remembered that he wasn’t there. It came to her quickly then, everything that had happened over the last week. She slowly climbed out of the bed, tugging on her pants and shirt, aware that she wouldn’t be able to sleep now. A walk in the cool, pre-dawn air seemed like a suitable alternative.

  The streets were silent, but there were crickets and cicadas and a multitude of nocturnal animals making themselves known in one way or another. Whenever she was outside like this it reminded her of the war, of the many nights she and Wyatt and Stiles had spent sleeping out under the stars. Despite everything that was happening then, it seemed like a more innocent time. It was before she and Wyatt had found each other, back when he had a flirtation with Ellie. And then there was Stiles. She could never figure out exactly what it was he wanted from her. He was always there, always protecting her, always giving her the information she needed right when she needed it. But he never made any overtures of romance with her.

  Well, there was that one kiss. She’d never told Wyatt about it; she’d never seen the point. It was one kiss while she and Wyatt were…she wasn’t sure what they were then. It was just before Ellie had turned on them, and just before Wyatt had finally seen what she really was, or at least what she had been at that moment. But no one is ever really one thing. Ellie had ended up giving her life for Dylan’s. It was ironic, really. Dylan often wondered what would have happened if Ellie had lived, if she hadn’t handed them over to Davida the way she did. Would she and Wyatt have been together? Would he always have
chosen Dylan?

  It was a stupid thing to wonder. They had been soul mates. He could heal her in a way no one else could, he could make her feel things no one else could. It wouldn’t have been the same with him and Ellie. She wasn’t even sure he was ever really into Ellie. She sometimes thought he turned to Ellie to make her jealous. And it had worked. She’d done the same with Sam, turning to him to make Wyatt jealous. And she’d regretted it. Sam had died because of her. She would never forgive herself for that.

  There were regrets. When she thought about the past, she felt so many regrets. But when she analyzed everything she’d done back then, she couldn’t imagine how it could have gone any differently. Everything she’d done, everything the people around her had done, it all came together to create what they had now. How could she regret that?

  “Regrets are a waste of time.”

  Dylan jumped—unaware that Raphael had joined her.

  “You heard my thoughts.”

  “They are quite intense.”

  “Sorry.”

  “You’re deeply troubled.”

  Dylan laughed a humorless laugh. “That’s true.”

  Raphael looked at her, curiosity in his expression. “Why are you so troubled?”

  “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to get rid of these demons, how to protect these people.”

  “It’s inside of you,” Raphael said. “You just have to find it.”

  “Gee, thanks…that’s helpful.”

  “You are the savior, Dylan. You have gifts that the rest of us just dream of having.”

  “Do I? Then why am I struggling? Why don’t I feel like a savior?”

  “You have many questions. You should ask the Father.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “You travel to heaven.”

  Dylan nodded slowly and deliberately. “Yeah, that’s on my to-do list.”

  Raphael tilted his head. “That is sarcasm, right? Don’t you know how to go to heaven?”

  “I’m not exactly your everyday angel.”

  “No. You’re better. It should be easy for you to do whatever you want to do. Doesn’t Stiles take you?”

  “His connection to heaven has been restricted.”

  “I can show you.” Raphael took her hand. “I can show you how easy it is to go back.”

  “I’ve never been.”

  Sadness came into Raphael’s eyes. “No wonder you are so confused. An archangel needs that connection with heaven.”

  “You were here before, right?”

  “Yes, I was—for several generations.”

  “What was it like?”

  Raphael looked around the town, at the park they were standing near, and the buildings that hunkered down around them. “It was not unlike this. Newer and more primitive, but there was a sense of community. The people were always helping each other, so grateful to have what they had and to share what was needed by their neighbors.”

  “Why did you leave?”

  “I angered God. I took a human wife.”

  Dylan nodded, remembering what Stiles had told her about her biological father, Jack James. “You had children.”

  “Three big, strong sons,” he said with a great deal of pride.

  “I thought archangels were not supposed to be prideful.”

  Raphael shrugged. “We aren’t. But sometimes it is hard to avoid the emotions these bodies feel. You feel this pride for your child, do you not?”

  “Of course. She is the best thing I’ve ever done.”

  Raphael nodded, squeezing her hand lightly. “Exactly. It is the nature of these bodies to want to procreate.”

  “But it isn’t the nature of an angel?”

  “It is not our place to make more angels. That is up to the Father. Which is the conundrum for those of us who inhabit two life forms, is it not?”

  Dylan nodded. “It’s not like this in heaven? We don’t feel this emotion?”

  “There is emotion. But it is different up there.”

  They walked for a few minutes in silence as Dylan thought about what he’d said. There was so much she didn’t know about being an angel. Her experiences were not conventional. She wasn’t a part of the same hierarchy as Raphael and Stiles; she had never done the things they’d done. All she knew was what she had learned during the war.

  “Archangels like us—even with the emotion that comes with these bodies—we have to remember what is right and wrong, what our purpose is, and how to achieve that purpose. It was that sin I’d committed when I was here before. I did not keep my attention where it had belonged.”

  “How do you do that?”

  “Sticking with your soul mate—your angelic soul mate—is a good start.”

  Dylan smiled softly. “You’ve been talking to Stiles.”

  “Yes. But it’s not just that. We have a connection.”

  “Because I’m your descendant?”

  “Not just that. Because we are archangels.”

  “You keep calling me that. But aren’t archangels a special type of angel?”

  “Yes. We are heaven’s protectors. We were created to protect heaven from threats. And when Adam and Eve fell to Earth, the Father expanded our purpose to include protecting them.”

  “But not all angels are archangels.”

  “No. There are many classifications of angels. The archangels, like myself and Lucifer, we have added powers that most of the other angels do not have.”

  “Like?”

  Raphael shrugged. “Our lack of freewill allows a little more leeway than others. We can create fire with the tips of our fingers, and we can control certain aspects of the weather, and move humans with the flick of our fingers. There are many things we can do that you likely have not seen because of the elixir Lily had Lucifer’s army drink.”

  “And Stiles? Is he an archangel?”

  “No. Stiles is a lesser an angel…at least, he was.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Raphael stopped walking, tugging on Dylan’s hand until she stopped too, and turned to face him.

  “Stiles was our knowledge. He learned all he could about the humans, the Earth, and everything about our history. He helped us with our purpose; he helped us figure out how to help the humans. But then he fell and everything changed. He changed everything.”

  “He said that Joanna had changed things when she fell.”

  Raphael shook his head. “Joanna was supposed to fall. She was supposed to stop Lucifer. But then Stiles fell, and things changed. Joanna changed. She had the object necessary to stop everything, but the moment Stiles fell, she chose not to use it.”

  “Object? I don’t understand.”

  “It’s difficult to explain. I’m not even sure I could describe it in human terms. But it would have changed everything if she had used it.”

  An image of Joanna filled Dylan’s mind. There was something…a box. But then the image faded.

  “And Stiles. How is he still here? How did he become my guardian if he’s not an archangel?”

  “You chose him.”

  Dylan started to shake her head; to deny what she knew was true. But she had chosen him. She’d gone back in time and told him he was destined to watch over her, to keep her safe from Luc and Lily until she was old enough to face the truth of who she was. But was that really her choosing him, or was it her telling him what, for her, had already happened?

  It was all beginning to get too confusing, the lines between what she knew and what she was still struggling to understand were blurring to such a point that she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to truly straighten it all out in her head. But the one thing that was clear to her was that everything seemed to come back to her—to her choices.

  And it all began long before she was born. Not only that, but Stiles was somehow stuck in the middle of it all. It was his decision to come to Earth for Joanna that had been the catalyst…but the catalyst for what? For Dylan’s birth? For the tide of the war to change? For th
e change in Joanna had that shifted the power to the angels? And how did that happen? Why did Joanna switch sides? Did it have to do with freewill? Or was it more than that?

  “Are you ready?” Raphael asked.

  His voice brought Dylan back into the moment. “Ready?”

  “Ready to go to heaven?”

  Chapter 18

  Raphael took both of Dylan’s hands and she instantly found herself wrapped in the protective light of his aura. It wasn’t even a moment later, and she was standing in a beautiful place, almost like the garden she remembered visiting in her dreams, but it wasn’t a garden. It was something different, a place that was not made of solid objects, but happy emotions that made her soul want to sing.

  It was indescribable, this place. She could feel others around her—feel their curiosity—but she couldn’t see them. She felt Raphael, too, and the pleasure the others felt at having him back in their presence. There were no voices, no sound, but she heard them speak just the same. After a moment, she realized that some of the voices were familiar. There were people here she knew, people she loved and who loved her back.

  A woman who knew Davida wrapped herself around Dylan and thanked her for loving Davida as she had. Someone else brushed against Dylan and spoke for Ellie. She was sad that Ellie had made bad choices, but grateful for Dylan’s love and that she had wanted to heal Ellie before she died—that she finally saw the good there had been in Ellie’s heart. And there were others—so many that Dylan could hardly keep them separate from one another—all these souls expressing gratitude and love. Dylan was overwhelmed, unsure she deserved all that she was given.

  “Come,” Raphael said, pulling Dylan away to another part of this place even as more voices joined the chorus as they praised Dylan for the good she’d done for humanity.

  They moved into another place—Dylan might have called it a room if it’d had four walls and a door, but it didn’t—and the voices were silenced. If Dylan had a body, she would have sunk down into a chair.

  “That was amazing. Why were they saying those things to me?”