Dark Before Dawn

by Monica McGurk

  He closed her fingers around it and held her hands, struggling with his emotions.

  “You forgave Lucas?” he asked, turning to search my face. “You couldn’t forgive me, but you forgave him?”

  I knew how he must have felt; how deeply my last decision must have wounded him. I reached up and placed my hands on his face, one on each side. His eyes were dark with hurt—almost black—the pain in them just as raw as it was when he’d been wracked by the fear that he would hurt me, all those years ago. I swallowed hard, knowing it was my fault, knowing there was nothing to do now but apologize for what I had done. I wrapped my hand around his and pulled him to his feet.

  “There was nothing to forgive.”

  I stretched on my tiptoes and drew his head to mine. I breathed in the scent of hay and honey, letting his warmth suffuse me and calm my fraying nerves.

  “I love you. I’m sorry I doubted you. And I hope you can forgive me.”

  I pressed my lips to his, searching. My lips parted, and I sighed as our kiss deepened, all barriers between us melting away. I wanted to lose myself in him, my yearning for his touch so great it threatened to overtake me. I arched against him, pressing myself closer, pretending for just one moment that we were alone, and that for once there was nothing standing between us.

  Reluctantly, I pushed away from his chest, the sudden rush of coolness as our bodies separated almost painful. He raised a questioning brow, still not understanding.

  Damn, I thought. I wish he wasn’t wearing his armor. I looked longingly at the place near his heart, placing one hand there against his steely breastplate, wishing I could speak to his heart directly, through our touch.

  I didn’t want to say it out loud. His azure eyes glimmered with a spark of joy and relief. I could barely stand to take that away from him, but I had to. I put my hands on his shoulders and squared my own to face him and tell him the truth.

  “I can’t go with you, Michael. Not now. Not ever.”

  I felt him stiffen under my hands. I looked back at Rorie again, steeling my resolve.

  “She’s gone through too much. Our mother is gone. I cannot possibly leave her here on Earth by herself.” My voice broke, each word catching on my shattered heart. I pushed on, each word rushing faster from my mouth, hurrying lest I lose my resolve. “I wish I could, but I can’t. And you can’t abandon your duties. I know you don’t want to. And you shouldn’t—even with Lucas redeemed, his master and the other Fallen remain. So I know you can’t. And I don’t want you to. I could never live with myself.”

  A silent sob wracked my body. He stood quiet, unmoving under my hands, only moving to bow his head low, knowing that I spoke the truth. A perfect teardrop trickled from his eye, dangling from his nose for a moment before it fell to the floor.

  “I’ll do it.”

  I turned to see Raph standing before me, sword unsheathed. The flames were restrained, tiny ghosts of blue and orange that barely rose above the surface of the shiny metal.

  “Michael didn’t believe he could trust me to protect humanity in his absence,” he continued. “And until now, he would have been right.

  “But after watching you today, after witnessing your grace in forgiving Lucas—seeing how your act spurred him to accept God’s own grace and regain Heaven the way he was meant to do—peacefully, and lovingly …” He paused. “Let’s just say that perhaps I learned a little bit about humanity today too.”

  Raph fell to his knees, offering up his sword to me on the tips of his fingers.

  “It would be a privilege to defend it in God’s name. And in your honor.”

  Confused, I whirled and turned into Michael’s arms.

  “Can he do that?”

  Michael’s stunned face split open into a grin. “He can.”

  epilogue

  They’d left the window open, a gentle Georgia breeze rippling through the curtains.

  This time, though, there was no need to worry about the safety of the baby sleeping in the crib. The baby’s safety had been purchased with the blood of too many fallen innocents, years before, by his parents’ renunciation of the heavenly gifts that could have been theirs, if they had made a different choice. By the painful experience of his aunt—now only nightmares and memories.

  Just in case, his godfather, Enoch, had split aces and beat the house in Vegas the night of his parents’ wedding, claiming it would guarantee any future offspring good luck in years to come. They’d chosen Vegas partly out of haste, partly in homage to the first place they’d truly expressed their love for one another. For Enoch, it was simply a convenient stop on the way back to his duties. His banishment to the dead zones between Heaven and Earth had been lifted in recognition of the role he’d played in winning redemption for the Fallen. He was eager, now, to get back to the routine of his Library, documenting and filing away other prophecies and stories of the angels for future generations.

  The baby’s godmother, Tabby, not to be undone, had unleashed the powers of her congregation’s full choir, their soaring Hallelujahs and Amens descending upon the baby’s head while he wailed and flailed, unimpressed by his baptismal service and his godmother’s fancy sermon. But the congregation had noticed and appreciated her words. It was said that when she preached now, she seemed to glow at the pulpit, lit from within by some special knowledge of God that nobody dared ask her about, but that all could see as plain as the nose on your face. Her congregation swelled along with her fame as a preacher. Phalanxes of sober-suited recruiting committees kept showing up, offering her a bigger church with more money, but she preferred to stay where she was. It was her home.

  “He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” Hope asked, leaning over the crib to inhale her offspring’s sweet baby smell.

  Michael took her hand, his thumb running over the soft fleshy mount of her thumb. “He looks like you.”

  She laughed; her dog, Ollie, lying guard at the foot of the crib, wearily lifted his head to inspect the scene. His snout was gray with age now, but despite being a little decrepit, he took his guard dog duties very seriously.

  “He doesn’t look like anybody,” Hope countered. “He looks like himself. He is his own little self.”

  “Not you, then. Your father, perhaps.”

  She tilted her head in acknowledgment. “That would be nice.” Her mother, Mona, would have thought so, too. Her heart tugged at the thought of her mother, grateful that by marrying, she and Michael had fulfilled one of her mother’s last wishes.

  He pulled her in close, wrapping a hand around her hip. She rested her head against his shoulder and, just for a moment, let her eyes drift closed. She thought of all he had given up, the look of respectful awe that had settled into Raph’s normally stern face and the look of skepticism on Gabrielle’s as she had witnessed his renunciation of his own powers, choosing to embrace the fragile shell of the human body they all disdained. But the angels had stood as their witnesses, honoring, in the end, the choice he had made with a promise to watch them from afar.

  Michael had made it seem easy, slipping into the relatively sedate job of a beat cop working the streets of Atlanta, the best way he could think of to continue with his work of protecting the innocent. She worried about him daily, but knew it was a small price to pay in exchange for the chance for them to be together forever. He was the final bit of glue that had enabled her to put back together the pieces of her family, bringing Rorie back from the brink of destruction, his love and attention helping to heal her wounds.

  As if reading her thoughts, he spoke. “Rorie will be back soon, won’t she?”

  Hope smiled, thinking of the work her sister did with rescue dogs. It was good therapy for her—a place to relearn trust, a place to witness that wounded creatures can heal, a place where she could learn to get out of her head, so crowded with painful memories, and focus on something else, allowing her to forget. It had helped that Raph’s touch had softened many of her memories, leaving the images of armor-clad angels and remembered beatings fuz
zy and distant—things that could be dismissed as nightmares. Yet some things were too deeply etched in her mind to be anything but painful. Deep down, Hope worried that Rorie was still trying to make up for the fact that she could not save Macey—might spend her whole life trying to compensate for something she wrongly felt was her failing.

  “You need your sleep,” Michael admonished, not waiting for her answer, planting a kiss on her forehead.

  “No,” she protested weakly.

  “C’mon, let’s go. He won’t be up for another hour or so,” he insisted, pulling her gently away. “Rorie will want to see him then.”

  Reluctantly, she followed him to the door. Over her shoulder, she left one lingering glance on her baby boy as they closed the door behind themselves.

  They were lucky, she thought to herself. So very lucky.

  “Good night, Gabriel Luke,” she whispered, closing the door behind her.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  There are so many people to thank as I bring The Archangel Prophecies to their close.

  Behind every author is a host of “beta readers”—and I am no exception. A special thank you to Kemal Cetin, Jake Houle, Lorraine Houle, and Beth Melendez for their willingness to read early and multiple drafts, struggling through plot holes and crimes of grammar to help me make Dark Before Dawn much, much better. An extra special thank you, again, to Dr. Shami Feinglass, for her overall reading and for also checking my medical facts and terminology so that Mona’s death and the injuries sustained by Rorie and Macey could be presented as accurately as possible. Any errors, of course, remain my own.

  To Errol Williams—thank you for forwarding me the verse from Peter. You have no idea how cool I found it that you were thinking about my story “in between” books, and I am grateful you took the time to send me your thoughts. As you can see, it was perfect for this chapter in Hope and Michael’s tale!

  Thank you to the wonderful volunteers at ECPAT-USA, Street Grace, Georgia Cares, and International Justice Mission, particularly Sarah Porter, Carol Smolenski, Cheryl DeLuca-Johnson, Lisa Clark, Andi Worley, and Stephen Cushman; Dr. Tamara Mattison, the volunteers at Brittany’s Place, and the family of Brittany Clardy; and Linda Miller and Civil Society. You welcomed me with open arms into your fight to end human trafficking and domestic minor sex trafficking, helped me to understand it as an industry and business, and aided me every step of the way as I strove to represent it and its victims fairly, accurately, and with empathy. If I have succeeded at all, and if I have raised any awareness of this modern-day scourge, it is because of you.

  Thank you, as always, to my friends and colleagues at the Coca-Cola Company and Tyson Foods for all of their support.

  Thank you to all the book clubs and teachers that have invited me into homes and classrooms. I am so honored when you do, and so gratified to hear your love of my characters and the questions my stories provoke. I take my responsibility to raise awareness about human trafficking very seriously, so I am especially moved when you use my books to teach. If I have inspired any of you or other readers to get involved, then I am grateful. If I have done so while still entertaining you with a compelling story, then I am doubly so! A special thank you to Jane Gilles, Mary Graham, Linda Heinze, Bob McElrath, Bill and Jill Somrock, and Dorothy Sunne—you are my teacher heroes, and your support of my writing has meant a lot! Another special shout out to Amanda Leddy for her continued partnership in developing classroom-ready curricular aids so that more teachers can more easily teach about human trafficking—you have a special touch and I couldn’t have done it without you!

  To my team at Greenleaf: Jeanne Thornton, editor extraordinaire—what fun it was to work with you as we brought Hope’s story to its close! I really felt privileged to work with someone who so clearly understood my vision and helped me sharpen it at every turn. Tyler LeBleu, Lindsey Clark, Katherine Kiger, Chelsea Richards—thank you for the attentiveness and creativity you brought to this, the last installment of The Archangel Prophecies.

  To my children: to Trey—thank you for proving me wrong and making me proud by showing me that a teenage boy could love and learn just as much from The Archangel Prophecies as a teenage girl; to Reagan, who “pre-approved” my plots—thank you for giving me clear critiques from the vantage point of my target audience, putting up with the over-protective tendencies that have emerged as I’ve learned more about DMST, and, most importantly, for serving as the inspiration for a strong, female-driven series; to John, who became my cabin-writing buddy as I pushed to get Dark Before Dawn over the finish line—thank you for your patience with your mother when she was distracted by her writing. You all make me proud, every day, and I am grateful for your love and support. To my loyal Labradoodle, Jack, who faithfully kept me company on many an early morning and late night while I wrote and inspired me to bring back Ollie. Finally, to my husband, Tom—for so many reasons, I couldn’t have done it without you. Thank you. I love you.

  Finally, to all my readers—your response to this series, and your overwhelming embrace of the movement to end human trafficking, in particular DMST, has been immensely gratifying. Your interest, enthusiasm, and encouragement kept me going in the toughest stages of writing, editing, and spreading the word. Thank you for your support and thank you, in advance, for all you will do to keep spreading the word about DMST so that we can end this modern scourge once and for all.

  ABOUT MONICA MCGURK

  Monica McGurk loves nothing better than to craft thought-provoking, multilayered stories, showcasing strong girls and women overcoming big challenges. Already a fan favorite, she received the 2013 TwiFic Fandom Undiscovered Gem award for Morning Star, her alternate ending to the Twilight series, written before the release of Breaking Dawn. Her first novel in The Archangel Prophecies trilogy, Dark Hope, was published in 2014, and Dark Rising, the second novel in the series, was published in 2015.

  Readers can learn more about Monica’s work and passions on her website at www.monicamcgurk.com.

  AUTHOR Q&A

  Q: What is the significance of Aurora’s name and the blessing ceremony in which the angels gift her with laughter, insight, strength and bravery?

  A: Aurora is the name of the Roman goddess of the dawn. As such, it references new beginnings—each dawn bringing a fresh start to the world. I thought it an appropriate name for the child that brings about a completely new stage in Mona’s life—even more so given the play on the word “dawn” (a homonym for Aurora’s dead father, Don). Interestingly, the goddess Aurora is sometimes considered the mother of the morning star, Lucifer, suggesting an interesting connection to the Fallen Angels if linked back to Christian mythology. Aurora is also the name of Sleeping Beauty, best known through the retelling by Walt Disney. In Disney’s version of this classic fairy tale, her fairy godmothers give her the gifts of beauty and song; when Maleficent interrupts the christening and curses Aurora, the third fairy’s gift is used to change the curse from death to a sleep that will only be broken by true love’s kiss. In Dark Before Dawn, there are no fairies, but the angel soldiers bless her with their own gifts, gifts I considered more suitable for a strong heroine who would need to fight and defend herself—not wait for Prince Charming to arrive upon the scene! Throughout the story, careful readers will see Rorie putting these gifts to work.

  Q: Is there any significance to the title of the novel, Dark Before Dawn?

  A: This common phrase is used, quite simply, to mean there is always hope, even and especially when things are at their most desperate. It is commonly attributed to the English theologian Thomas Fuller, dating to 1650. It seemed appropriate for this novel, as the characters find themselves with seemingly no way out—no way for Hope and Michael to be together, no way for Rorie to escape unscathed—but manage, in the end, to find their way. And, again, I liked the play on the word “dawn” and its oblique reference to Aurora.

  Q: Many readers may find Hope’s treatment of Michael in this novel frustrating. Why, after all they have been thro
ugh, would Hope still not fully trust Michael?

  A: It is frustrating, isn’t it? But this is an example of the literary device of hamartia, or the hero’s fatal flaw. Hope’s downfall, over and over again, is that she does not trust. It compels much of the action and consequences we see throughout the three novels that comprise The Archangel Prophecies. It would be out of character for her to become all-trusting, but hopefully readers can see that she is a little more self-aware about this tendency (especially after prompting from her friend, Enoch) and ultimately takes responsibility for it by the end of Dark Before Dawn.

  Q: What does it mean that Lucas used to be God’s shield, the role that Michael says can be Hope’s if she chooses to join him in heaven?

  A: I wanted readers to see that Lucas and Hope actually have something in common. Essentially, as Lucas describes his role in Heaven before the Fall, he was a legal advisor—poking holes in the illogical, misguided attacks upon God’s majesty, whatever their source. Hope, of course, is herself a lawyer and at several points in the story we see her putting her legal training to good use. And Hope’s potential “replacing” of Lucas gives added dimension to his dislike of her—unthinkable that a mere human could usurp his role!

  Q: Did Michael actually cheat with Gabrielle? And if not, why did she let Hope believe he did?

  A: No, Michael did not cheat with Gabrielle. Gabrielle, as we can see even as early as her appearance in Dark Rising, wants the Prophecy to be fulfilled so the Fallen Angels can be forgiven, but still sees humans as beneath angels. Her main goal is to keep Michael focused on his heavenly duties and, hopefully, shake the unseemly infatuation he has for Hope. She takes advantage of the situation she sees unfolding before her to sow the seeds of doubt in Hope’s mind, letting Hope think what she might about her relationship with Michael. Knowing that distrust is Hope’s biggest character flaw—and having predicted that it would lead to Hope’s betrayal of Michael in Dark Rising—she knew exactly how to lead Hope astray. And it worked.