Elohim

by Leslie Swartz

  “For now,” Gabriel told him.

  “Wonderful,” he rejoiced. “I should like to visit a certain bartender. It’s been some time since--”

  “I am begging you not to finish that sentence.”

  Wendy took her arm and led her to the back of the plane, out of her brother’s view.

  The two men sat quietly for a time until Wyatt’s curiosity got the better of him. “You were willing to take the fall for what I did to Will. Why?”

  Lucifer raised his eyebrows and sat back in his seat. “Your personality is quite volatile. You aren’t always rational. I thought the knowledge of what you’d done would torment you, push you over the edge. I was right.”

  “I could have killed you.”

  He laughed. “You could have what? At full power, you couldn’t kill me, much less in this meat puppet you’re wearing.”

  “Still,”

  “You already weren’t very fond of me. Hating me would have been easy and I would have allowed it to spare your precious human emotions.”

  “Why?”

  “Because that’s what brothers do.”

  After a long silence, Wyatt spoke again. “You’re God’s favorite.”

  “So they say.”

  “So you know Him, what He’s like?”

  “If memory serves.”

  Wyatt let out a breath and looked in his brother’s eyes. “Does He hate me?”

  “What? Of course not. He doesn’t hate anyone, especially His Protector of Humanity. You’re special to Him, as am I and Gabriel and--”

  “Did I do something to make Him angry? Did I offend Him somehow?”

  He snickered. “Contrary to social media’s comments sections, our Father isn’t offended by much of anything.”

  “Then, why would He allow this? I know He’s asleep or whatever, but Gabriel told me He made it impossible, so how did it happen? Why did it happen? Why would He give me a son only to turn around and take him away from me?”

  Lucifer didn’t know how to answer that, but he’d brought up a good point. “I don’t know, brother.”

  Wyatt wiped away a stray tear. “It’s not right.”

  “No,” he agreed. “No, I don’t believe it is.”

  Chapter 37

  Gabriel watched the girl playing in the front yard. Her mother was inside, grief-stricken, leaving the child alone as not to burden her with her tears.

  “Jenny,” Gabriel said as she approached. The girl looked up and Gabriel studied her; she seemed unafraid, naively trusting. She took her hand and urged her to sit on the ground next to her, which she did. “I’m sorry about your dad. He loved you very much. He prayed every day that you’d get better. That’s why I’m here. To make you better.”

  The girl didn’t seem to understand. She continued playing with the blocks, all but ignoring the stranger’s presence.

  “I’m gonna touch your head now,” Gabriel warned. “It’ll feel weird for a second while I repair some connections in your brain, but when it’s over, you’ll be good as new, okay? Here I go.” She placed her hands on the girl’s temples, lighting up the skin on her face. Her eyes grew wide and she dropped the toys, the light stinging sensations surprising her. Her eyes rolled back and her bottom lip quivered as every vein in her face became visible. After a few moments of concentration, Gabriel took her hands away, satisfied with the healing. “How do you feel?”

  The girl looked at her, directly this time, shock and gratitude in her eyes. “Ah,” she croaked. “I feel like I’m here. Really here. What are you?”

  “Angel. Don’t tell anyone, though. They’ll think you’re crazy. Just tell your mom you hit your head. She won’t question it. They’ll call it ‘a miracle’.”

  She nodded.

  “I’m gonna go before someone sees me. Remember,” she covered her lips with her finger as if to say, ‘shh’. The girl nodded again.

  As Gabriel stood and walked away, she could hear the girl yell, “Mom! Mom!” Once across the street, she turned to look as the woman rushed outside and fell to her knees, tears spilling down her already puffy cheeks. The two embraced and Gabriel left, her guilt over Spade fading. He may have been an evil piece of shit, but he was human. Healing his daughter seemed like a good enough way to right things. Hopefully, when she saw her Father again, He wouldn’t be too terribly upset with her.

  Chapter 38

  Hattie placed a log on the fire. The Highlands could feel chilly, even in the summer, especially in old stone buildings like this one.

  The man struggled to free himself, but she’d tied the ropes tight around him and the chair he sat on. He wasn’t going anywhere. Screams from the next room drowned out his muffled pleas as she released the valve on his IV, allowing his blood to flow into the awaiting glass. Tears fell from his eyes as she replaced the valve.

  “Stop complaining,” she dismissed. “I already told you I’m not going to kill you. When you’ve lost so much blood, you’ll pass out, I’ll drop you at the pub and the barmaid will call a doctor. You’ll be fine.”

  He cried through the gag in his mouth.

  “Come now, I can’t just let her die, can I? It’s not as though she’s in a condition to feed herself.” She patted him on the back and left him there, scurrying to get the fresh blood to her friend before it went cold. “Here we are.” She held the glass to Michelle’s mouth and she drank, unquenchable thirst driving her nearly to the point of madness. She was drenched in sweat, exhausted and in pain. The blood helped, but it wasn’t enough.

  “I need more,” Michelle breathed.

  “I told you, only so much at a time. If we drain him too quickly--”

  “More!” she bellowed.

  “All right, all right. Here,” she held her wrist out. “Take some of mine. It’s not the same, but it’ll hold you over until we can tap Callum again.”

  Michelle’s pupils dilated and her fangs grew. She bit down hard into her friend’s wrist, greedily taking as much as would come. After a few moments, Hattie yanked her arm away. “That’s enough, now.” She got the towel from the bowl of water on the nightstand and wiped it over Michelle’s forehead. The girl fell back into the pillows, letting the sense of relief wash over, knowing it was only temporary.

  “Why?” Michelle whimpered.

  “I don’t know, dear. We’ve had this conversation already. I’m not the person to ask. Almost over now.”

  Another wave of excruciating pain gripped her, this time accompanied by a puddle of blood seeping from her nightgown to the bedsheets. She cried out in anguish as Hattie went to the end of the bed and lifted the gown. “It’s time, girl.”

  “No. I can’t. This isn’t right.”

  “Right or not, it’s happening. Now, pull yourself together and push!”

  The End

  The Seventh Day Series Book Four

  CAIN

  Available now on Amazon