Dark Before Dawn

by Monica McGurk

  I fought back the tears, remembering the frustration and helplessness I’d felt when Andrew had argued that it was out of his jurisdiction. He wouldn’t even promise to try to persuade the DA on my behalf. He wouldn’t do anything. Despite the flurry of media and speculation that had surrounded the gruesome killings, it was not his kind of case—not like asking me to prosecute a developmentally disabled man like Ike Washington, for example.

  “My boss forbade me to bring up the subject of my sister again while I worked for him,” I said. “So I quit. So working through the DA’s office is no longer an option.”

  I looked up to see Tabby pressing her lips into a thin, hard line. “So we have to search for them ourselves.”

  “Not ‘we.’ Me. I can’t drag you into this, too. But I need the angels if I’m going to pull it off. I just don’t know if I can force them to help. They’ve already proven themselves to be untrustworthy.”

  “But surely Michael can get them to help you.”

  I shook my head again.

  “He wasn’t here either, Tabby. Besides—they made their vow to him. If that wasn’t enough to command their allegiance, I don’t know what sway he’ll have now.”

  “So that’s why you’re having them come here? To confront them?”

  I nodded. “I have an idea. I don’t know if it will work, but it’s the only thing I’ve come up with.”

  “Are you sure, sweetie? It’s all happening so fast. The funeral was just a few hours ago. You could use a rest. Not to mention figuring things out with Michael.” She put a protective hand on my arm. “You’re hurting, and his involvement—or lack thereof—is still weighing on you. I can tell.”

  “We don’t have time to wait,” I answered, my heart constricting with fear as I thought of all the things that could be happening, even this very minute, to my sister and her friend.

  The knock on the door was crisp, official sounding. Ollie’s ears perked up, and I laughed. “Saved by the bell. Funny that the angels would suddenly become punctual, now.”

  Tabby, my new watchdog, eyed me with caution. She looked warily at the door. “I can send them away, Hope. Say the word and I’ll do it.”

  I shook my head. “No. I need to get it over with. Let them in.”

  Tabby ushered the four of them into the cozy living room. They shuffled in together, lining themselves up as if they were shy middle schoolers hanging back at their first dance, half wanting and half dreading to be picked. They were larger than life, their dazzling beauty and presence—even in human form—overwhelming the little house. Wistfully, I wondered how Arthur had managed in such a small space.

  I waited for Michael to come to my side. After an awkward silence, it became evident that he was staying with the other angels. I felt my face flush. Blinking back tears, I cleared my throat.

  “I’m grateful that you came to my mother’s burial today,” I began. “I realize that for you, her death is probably nothing more than a transition to a state closer to God. For me, it is the loss of the last parent I had.” I choked on the next words. “The fact that once again, my family has paid the price for my involvement in the Prophecy, for the enmity of Lucas and the Fallen Angels, makes my loss all that more difficult to bear.”

  Enoch leaned into his cane. “Now, Hope. The last thing you should be doing is blaming yourself for the tragedy that has come to pass. It was not your fault.”

  I didn’t like what I was about to do, but I had to do it. I raised my head, trying to channel some of the steeliness that had been my mother’s trademark.

  “You’re right, Enoch. I can’t blame myself. I’ve done enough of that to last a lifetime. What I need to do now is focus on finding my sister. And to do that, I need to know how it came to be that despite the vows of four archangels, my sister was left to fend for herself against the Fallen.”

  Michael’s head jerked back as if I had slapped him.

  Raph’s mouth dropped open in dismay. “You can’t be serious? You blame us for her disappearance?”

  “All four of you promised to protect her. Yet only Arthur was there when she needed him.”

  Michael began: “But, Hope, you can’t honestly—”

  “I never promised to be her 24/7 babysitter, Hope,” Raph said, cutting him off. “None of us did. And I, for one, never thought that anything requiring me to fulfill that pledge would ever come to pass. In fact, I counted on it,” he added cynically, his dark eyes glittering with outrage as he cast an angry glance at Michael.

  “So you admit it?” I challenged back. “You never had any intention of helping her at all, did you?”

  He shrugged, the casualness of his admission making me furious. “It’s not like I had a choice. Your boyfriend over there coerced us all. Isn’t that right, Gabrielle?”

  I looked at Gabrielle. She was swathed in an elegant winter white cowl-necked dress that clung in all the right places, her face serene, completely unflustered by our heated debate. She tilted her head, clinically assessing the situation, before answering Raph.

  “Michael can be very persuasive at getting what he wants. So yes, we took the oath he demanded of us. But what he forgets, sometimes, is that our first duty is to protect all of God’s people. Not just his favorites.”

  Michael flinched at the implied shirking of his duties. “No one ever suffered because of my care for the Carmichaels!”

  “That’s your opinion,” she countered tartly, one perfect brow arched in accusation as she turned on him. “We do not share it. Besides, it’s irrelevant. Your regard for these humans is beneath you.”

  I darted a glance at Tabby, dismayed by what I was hearing. Trying to keep my emotions in check, I fell back on my lawyerly instincts.

  “It doesn’t matter whether you took the vow voluntarily,” I said, “or whether you felt you had to do it to comply with Michael’s request. The fact is, you all entered into a contract. Of which, as far as I can tell, you are all in breach.”

  “What?” Michael looked at me, perplexed. “A contract?”

  “You’ve got to be joking,” Raph said, his face splotchy.

  Tabby grinned, crossing her arms and skewering Raph with her fiercest look. “You heard her, pretty boy,” she said, pointing a finger at his massive chest. “You’re in violation, and she’s taking you to court.”

  “Court?” Gabrielle laughed haughtily. “There’s no court on Earth that would recognize our vow as a contract. No court on Earth at which we would ever consent to appear,” she added, drawing herself up to her full height to emphasize her point.

  I looked at her calmly. “I’m perfectly prepared to argue my case before the court of Heaven. I understand from Enoch that you angels are fairly litigious, so I’m sure there will be no problem. There may even be a precedent, for all I know.”

  Enoch tilted his head, puzzled by the unexpected direction this was taking.

  “May I have a word, Hope?”

  I tried to guess what he was thinking behind the shiny lenses of his aviators, but to no avail. Curious at what he might have to say, I nodded and let him guide me back into the kitchen.

  “Hope. You don’t have to take them to court. They did their best. We’re here to help now. What could you possibly win by seeking to adjudicate this?”

  “They didn’t do their best, Enoch,” I said tersely, the words practically ripped from me. “The fact that Michael is just standing there, saying nothing—the fact that he still hasn’t even tried to explain where he even was that night—proves to me that there is something going on, something I can’t trust. But I still need them. So I need to change the terms of the contract. You see them: Raph and Gabrielle can barely tolerate me, or any human. If I don’t change the terms of the contract, I’ll never be able to get their help.”

  “That’s not true,” Enoch interjected. But I could tell from the expression on his face that my words were hitting home.

  “They wouldn’t have taken the pledge if Michael hadn’t forced them to do it, and ev
en so, they scarcely heeded it. If they won’t follow through on a pledge, I need something stronger. If my plan has any hope of succeeding, I need to legally bind them to following my wishes.”

  “You have a plan?”

  I paused. “I do. It’s a long shot, but it’s the only thing I can think of. And I can’t pull it off without them.”

  He leaned into his cane, looking thoughtful.

  “You’re certain of this? You’ve thought through what this might do to your relationship with Michael? You’ve made the mistake of not trusting Michael before, Hope.”

  I swallowed back my first response—if I can’t trust him, what relationship really is there?—and chose to nod, instead. “It’s different this time, Enoch,” I asserted and changed the subject. “You know your courts, given your own history. Will you help me?”

  He scratched at his beard. “All right. I will help you, though it goes against my better judgment. I just hope you’re prepared for all the consequences of your choice.”

  We rejoined the others. Raph stared at me stonily. Gabrielle disdained to even look at me. Michael shifted awkwardly, occasionally shooting me a pleading glance.

  I cleared my throat. “I’m assuming that I can’t physically bring my case to Heaven, so I’m expecting the case to be heard here. As the only angel present who was not party to the original contract, Enoch has agreed to help me with the logistics. The suit itself is simple—it’s a breach of contract against the three of you. I am not seeking compensation. Instead, I’m requesting that the contract be shifted from an obligation to Michael, made at his behest, to an obligation to me, personally, so that I might—with your full cooperation—direct recovery efforts to save my sister.”

  “You’re seeking to be in charge? Of us?” Raph pressed.

  Gabrielle laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding. A human will never be acceptable to us—or to the courts.”

  “I’m deadly serious. If I thought I could trust you, I wouldn’t have to resort to this. But I’m not sure, any longer, that I can.”

  I shot Michael a look that let him know my words were meant for him.

  Michael clenched his jaw. I could see the telltale vein in his forehead throbbing—a sure sign that he was about to lose his temper. He stood in stony silence, his face turning successively deeper shades of purple as I stared him down. If you’d just tell me what was going on, I wouldn’t have to do this, I thought, longingly, just as— without warning—he pivoted and stormed through the front door, abandoning our discussion. Raph and Gabrielle followed on his heels. The door slammed behind them, shaking the tiny carriage house to its foundations.

  “Well, that went well,” Tabby observed dryly, a hand resting on her hip.

  “Let’s just hope that the hearing goes better,” Enoch added, his face a knot of worry.

  Enoch successfully made the case that due to the nature of my sister’s disappearance, time was of the essence, so we jumped to the head of the docket. The case was set to be heard later that night, right in the middle of the carriage house living room. Heralds—underlings of Gabrielle, the angel of messages, ironically enough—were sent out to inform Michael, Gabrielle, and Raph of the requirement of their attendance. There would be no legal representation—each angel, and I, would argue for ourselves.

  At the appointed time, the angelic judge appeared, materializing in the middle of the room. I don’t know what I was expecting, but the angel who was to decide the case was draped in a robe of glistening white, her massive wings—a riot of green, gold, and turquoise—folded tightly behind her. Her red hair, shot through with strands of white, cascaded down her shoulders in ringlets. She had the kind of sturdy plumpness that comes with content and success. Her face was kind, yet stern.

  “You are the claimant?” she asked me pointedly. “An odd case you have brought. Interesting from the standpoint of jurisdiction. Interesting given the defendants’ stature.” She grinned conspiratorially and peered at me over her glasses. “Interesting for policy wonks concerning themselves with precedent setting, to be sure. I understand you are a lawyer yourself?”

  I nodded, a bit in awe of her.

  “Let’s hope you’re not in over your head. Where are the parties to this contract?”

  As she spoke, the other angels appeared in a flash. They were dressed in their battle armor, standing shoulder to shoulder. They’d deliberately chosen to make a show of force.

  “Need I remind you of the separation of powers in the heavenly realm?” the judge said sternly, staring at them over their glasses.

  Raph, not impressed, scoffed at her. “We can dress as we wish, can we not, Chief Magistrate?”

  She pressed her lips together. “Just be sure that’s all it is—or your choice of costume will serve you ill, Raphael.

  “Now, let’s call this proceeding to order. Let all parties to this case be under warning that by agreeing to appear here today, they have acknowledged my authority, and they consent to receive whatever judgment I pass down. Plaintiff, please come forward.”

  The Chief Magistrate motioned for me to step in front of her.

  “I have read your filing, as well as the amicus brief filed by Enoch, the Prophet, also known as the Librarian.” The archangels looked startled by the revelation that Enoch had apparently taken sides. “Your contention is that the defendants willfully neglected their vows to protect your sister, one Aurora Carmichael. You claim that only one party to the pledge, the Archangel Arthur, fulfilled his promise and that, being left to his own devices, he fell in battle, leaving your mother vulnerable to the attack that caused her death and allowing the forcible abduction of your sister. Your allegation that the kidnappings and murders are the work of the Fallen makes these grave charges, indeed.”

  I gulped hard. Standing before this judge who’d arrayed herself in her full angel glory, I felt as if I was back in my first year of law school, struggling to defend myself before a professor eager to catch me in logical traps. I did what I had done then—saying nothing more than absolutely necessary.

  She turned to the others.

  “Would any of you like to explain your whereabouts the evening of the attack cited by Ms. Carmichael?”

  Michael flushed. “It is not secret, your honor, that my … senses … are not what they used to be. I cannot unerringly intuit danger and humanity’s needs any longer.” He shot me an accusing glance. “I was elsewhere that evening, unaware of Ms. Carmichael’s need.”

  “Did you not sense anything, then?” the judge pressed.

  He looked at the floor. “I did.”

  “What was it that you sensed?”

  “I did experience unease, I admit it. But I could not be sure whence it came, nor what it meant. That is frequently my lot.”

  “If this is a common occurrence, then, you must have a way of managing it. What do you typically do when you find yourself uneasy in this manner, but unable to pinpoint the source of it?”

  He looked up again, a funny look on his face. “I confer with my colleague.”

  “You mean Gabrielle?” the judge confirmed. “Very well. Is that what you did in this case?”

  He nodded.

  “Let the record show that the defendant Michael has affirmed he conferred with the defendant Gabrielle on the occasion in question.” For the first time, I noticed an angelic scribe, hunched over, scribbling furiously with a quill in a scroll, recording the proceedings. “Well, Michael, what was the outcome of your consultation with her?”

  He paused. “She told me she felt nothing.”

  “Were those her exact words?”

  Michael pressed his lips into a grim line. “I believe her exact words were, ‘Our efforts are needed here, Michael. Ignore the vague impulses that flit in and out of you and focus on the task before you. Whatever is happening back in Atlanta can wait.’”

  I winced. She’d downplayed the potential risk to my family, and she’d done so in a way that was calculated to remind Michael of his own weakness. It mus
t have stung his pride—especially now, with the truth of what my mother and sister had faced that night so clear. I could hardly believe she’d be so callous.

  Enoch tilted his head, peering at them both from behind his sunglasses. He looked very unhappy. I leaned over to whisper to him. “I don’t understand. Did Gabrielle not sense that we were in trouble? Could Lucas have been preventing her intuition somehow?”

  “Shhh,” he warned, pointing to the judge. “Listen.”

  “Gabrielle,” said the Chief Magistrate. “Do you agree with Michael’s account of that evening’s conference? Let me remind you that you remain under the jurisdiction of Heaven.”

  Gabrielle’s mouth twisted into a small, tight smile.

  “No,” she said.

  I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. Michael wheeled on her, panic and disbelief in his eyes. “What?”

  Raph eyed her speculatively.

  “That is, I agree with his statement insofar as I told him there was nothing of consequence about which he should bother himself.” She let her eyes settle on me, conveying with that one look just how insignificant I really was to her. “I asked him to stay with me that night, and he made a choice to do that.”

  She let the implication of her statement—the question of what exactly they were doing together—hover around us.

  Raph didn’t bother to hide his amusement. “Well, well. While the cat’s away …”

  I felt like all the air had been squeezed out of my lungs. Had the very thing I’d feared—the very thing Tabby had warned me about—actually come to pass? From across the room, I felt Gabrielle staring at me, mocking me. For a moment, though, I thought she looked unsteady on her feet, a strained grimace marring her perfect visage.

  I looked at Enoch. “She can’t lie—can she?” I whispered. “Isn’t she supposed to be under oath or something?” I glanced at her again, wondering why she was wincing. Was God punishing her?