by A L Williams
I wrapped my arms around myself, kneeling as screams of agony echoed from the burning building. Plants burned to ash and the light poles dripped with liquid metal.
Not again.
Please stop.
Please….
A gust of wind hit my locks, and I glanced up, smoke rising from the ground. Lucifer appeared at my side, cradled in his wings of ivory, matching the white of his eerie eyes. The woman turned and grimaced, running at him. He snapped his wings, throwing her down, her body landing with a crack. I winced.
“That’s enough, Gabriel,” he said.
The woman’s shoulders shook as laughter fell from her lips. She pulled herself up. “Lucifer,” came a deeper voice, more formal. She swayed as she stood, dragging her limbs along the pavement.
"This is not Father’s will," Lucifer said. She laughed, moving closer, and I looked between them, still pressed to the melted pole.
“These human bodies are so frail,” she said, pulling her body straight, sending a chill through me. The sound of popping bones filled the air as they went back in place. “Don’t you think so, brother? I haven’t figured out why they are so precious. Have you?”
He shifted, his wings flapping around him. “What do you want?”
“I’m here to make you suffer.”
He flinched. “Did Father send you?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Because I hate you.” As they continued to speak, I turned, inching away from the pole. Her gaze snapped towards me, glowing white. “Stay awhile,” she purred.
“Leave him be,” Lucifer said.
She arched her brow. “You care about someone? Since when?” Lucifer did not respond.
A warm breeze kicked dirt and rocks across the dim lot as they stared each other down. The fire continued to crackle and pop around me. Sirens screeched in the distance, the stench of burning asphalt, metal, and wood attacking my nose. The woman sighed. “Pesky humans always getting in the way. We will continue this another time, brother.” She collapsed to the ground. A light shot from the corpse into the sky, disappearing among the stars.
He turned to me as the rain slowed to a drizzle. “Are you well?”
I stood, brushing the dirt from my jeans. “Yeah.” I suddenly felt exhausted.
He walked over, his wings towering over us. “Do you want to go home?” I nodded. He curled his wings around us and the world shimmer away, replaced by the small studio.
~
I looked around the room and then back at him. He examined the surroundings. “Small.” He moved to the kitchen and pulled a chair out to sit.
“Yeah well, I didn’t exactly have an inheritance.” I glared at him. Silence fell between us. “Would you like some coffee?” I asked. He tilted his head, his mouth set in a deep frown and he nodded. I walked into the kitchen and started up the coffeemaker. Once I sat down and took a sip, a sigh left my lips. Warmth spread through me. The sound of children playing in puddles drifted in through the window. “What do you suggest we do about this?” I glanced out as the adults rounded up their kids and guided them inside.
I turned back as his wild dark hair scattered with the wind. “They want revenge against me. You have to be prepared.”
I watched my reflection in my coffee. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”
“No, but you can not run from it,” he said. “I've spent centuries trying to escape my past.” He opened his shirt, revealing an enormous scar across his entire torso. It was thick, the flesh dark and risen against his pale skin. My eyes followed its path down to his lower torso and my chest tightened.
“You can’t run from who you are.”
I stood up. “I know that. But that’s how I stay alive. You weren’t there. I was on my own.” Lucifer remained silent, watching me as I moved, pacing the room. “You lost any right to tell me how to live my life,” I said my voice breaking.
He watched me. “I did not want to leave.”
Rage washed over me. “Get out.”
“James— ” he started.
“I said get out!” My fingers started to tingle. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it.
He stood and walked to the door and then glanced at me. “If I had known…” He paused. “I would have come back.” I ran to the door and slammed it shut, as he stepped outside. A hand-shaped burn remained etched into the wood. I turned and leaned against the door. Sliding to the floor, I put my face in my hands, dropping my head to my knees, close to my chest.
Why didn’t she tell me?
Steam filled the room as I climbed in the shower. I looked down at my sliced flesh, leaning against the wall below the showerhead. I squeezed my eyes closed, water dripping down my locks.
When I left the bathroom, I moved over to my end table and pulled out my mother’s journal. Maybe she had written about him. I plopped onto my bed and stared at the cover and I opened it and scanned the messy words scribbled on the first page. I started to read.
~
March 12, 1792
This exciting. He teach me to reed and write. He say I wood love it and I do. It makes me feel smart. I like him a lot. He not like other white men. He’s kynd. I wish he would tell his name or where he’s from. Tomorow he coming see me and show me a spring. I have to make sure that mastah does not see me gone or he beat me. I can not wait.
~
Putting the journal down in my lap, I took a deep breath. The sun had sunk below the horizon, the moon hanging high in the dark sky. I stared at my painting. Had she been lonely? Did she miss him? Did she regret having me and did she still love Him all those years after?
Why?
Why did she hold on to him for so long? It was obvious he didn’t want us. Maybe she had known he had to leave. Why would she put herself through that? I looked over at my phone. 1AM flashed on the screen. My mind drifted toAndrew and I closed my eyes. I knew he was right.
Why did I yell at him?
Why did I kick him out?
He was only trying to help. I laid my face in my hands, stomach-churning. I was going to have to deal with this. There was no way out.
If I didn’t I was going to die.
Chapter Ten
Andrew
When I came to the scene, everything happened fast I wasn't sure how to react. Fire trucks and ambulances pulled up as I stared in the direction Mr. Miller had run. My heart was heavy as firefighters and paramedics rushed past with their equipment. “Skittish,” Ben said. I turned to him, his arms crossed in front of his chest. “You going to go after him?”
I shook my head, Streams of rain rushing down my umbrella. “He needs time.” I couldn’t imagine what he was going through, but confronting him would not end well.
“Tha e airson a ’chuid as fheàrr.” It’s for the best. He moved closer, tilting his umbrella and peek out.. “So, freak accident?” Bagged bodies were rolled away on gurneys as firefighters extinguished the inferno with hoses.
The priest laid in a heap on the ground, being examined. His flash was red and blistered.. I approached. "Is he alive?" I asked. The paramedic nodded.
I went back over to Ben. "No one can know he was here."
“Got it.” He walked to the reporters gathered outside the yellow tape, stepping in front of them as their cameras flashed. An endless stream of questions filled the air. I glanced up, the clouds rushing across the sky, a single drop of warm rain hitting my face. I climbed into my car and pulled away from the scene, unsure of where I was going. James drifted through my thoughts as I drove down the wet streets. Was he okay? Whatever had happened was bad. My stomach twisted into knots as I gripped the steering wheel.
When I reached James' apartment, I ran to his door through the downpour, knocking. No answer. Where could he have gone? I knocked again and waited. Nothing. I returned to my car, my clothes now soaked through. I leaned against my seat, closing my eyes. The girl that had been with him at the club flashed in my mind. Maybe he was with her or at the very least she might know where he was. I drove to the
station.
When I arrived, I pulled up the database hoping she had a record. When I entered her name, arrest records and missing persons files popped up. I scanned the file looking for anything useful. Other than a mention of her stay at a rehabilitation facility, there was nothing. I could call the hospital, but I'd have to get a warrant, and I didn't have time for that. I leaned back in my chair, racking my brain for a solution. My phone rang. "Hey," I said.
“Hey. Did you locate him?” Ben asked.
I clenched my jaw. “No.” The line grew silent.
“I’m at Kino with the priest,” he said.
I stood. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”
~
When I pulled into the hospital on the Southside, people with crutches and wheelchairs moved towards their cars. An ambulance was parked just below the bright red emergency sign. I strolled through the doors, finding Ben leaning against the front counter. A nurse stared up at him with wide eyes, his cheeks tinged in coral. I wandered up to him, and he glanced up at me. “Come on,” he said. He turned back to the man and winked. The guy smiled.
He led me down the hallway, our steps echoing off the walls. We entered a dimmed room, finding Mrs. Rodriguez standing over her husband. He was covered in bandages, the visible muscle scarred with red and black, peeling, irritated skin. When I walked inside, I froze when I saw who was examining the priest. “How many fingers?” Adam held up four fingers.
“Four,” Father Rodrìguez said.
“Do you have any discomfort?” He shook his head. “Alright, I will be back later. If you have any pain, call the nurse.” Adam turned to the door and stopped, gawking at me. He walked past us and we followed him.
"Does he have any major wounds?" Ben asked him, breaking the awkward silence. Adam moved here years ago, but I hadn't found the courage to confront him after all these years.
"No. He’ll have to stay here for a while, but he’ll live."
"Good." Ben glanced at me.
“Thanks,” I said.
Adam tensed. “No problem.” He turned to leave.
“How are your parents?” I asked.
He stopped. “The same.” He left, disappearing down the hall.
Ben chuckled. “That wasn't awkward at all. I thought you had talked to him already.” I looked away. He glared at me. "You need to stop running from your past." I sighed. He was right.
When we walked back into the room, the priest was looking at his wife. He peered over at us, his body tucked underneath white sheets of the hospital bed. Buttons and bars were scattered along side it. His arm hung off the side with hand wrapped around hers. “Detectives,” he said.
I stopped at the end of the bed. “Hello, Father. How are you feeling?”
He grimaced. “Did I hurt him?”
“You don’t remember?” I asked.
“Nothing after four days ago.” He squeezed his wife’s hand.
I followed his movement my chest tightening. “Mrs. Rodrìguez said that you talked about an angel coming to you.”
The man frowned. “You don’t believe me.”
“I believe you,” I said.
He frowned. “They came to me and told me that the Lord had called me to do his work.”
Ben arched his brows. “They? Were there more than one?”
The father shook his head. “They are neither male nor female.”
I pulled out my notepad and pen. “Did they say who they are?”
He glanced down. “Gabriel.” James words drifted back into my mind. I believed James, but hearing it myself was bizarre.
Ben laughed. “The archangel?” Father Rodrìguez nodded again. “Well then.”
The Father drew his wife closer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…” She wrapped her arms around him.
I smiled. “You did nothing wrong.”
He slumped his shoulders. “The angels are supposed to guide us in God’s word, not…”
“Only the Lord knows his plan,” I said.
Father Rodrìguez's face brightened. “Amen.”
We excused ourselves, leaving the room and walking to our cars.
“Shit just got interesting,” Ben said as we walked. He wasn’t kidding. How did we go from protecting the world from werewolves and Fae to having to chase down angels?
He stepped in front of me in the middle of the parking lot. "Are you going to tell me what this has to do with Mr. Miller?"
"That man you chased off at the apartment was Lucifer and James is his son."
He blinked. “He's the son of the devil?” I nodded. There was no reason to keep it from him now. "Wow, you can pick 'em," he said. Yeah, I could. The Lord must have a plan. Why bring me into James' life if I wasn’t meant to protect him? He might not want to talk to me, but I couldn’t standby and let him face heaven alone. I would continue trying until he listened.
Chapter Eleven
James
The temperature skyrocketed as we hit summer. I shook my head, walking through the doors at the shop. The smell of dark-roasted beans hovered in the air. With all that was going on, I shouldn't have been working, but I couldn't bring myself to leave Corbin hanging. After everything he had done for me, I just couldn't.
Hayley looked over from the customer in front of her and waved at me until she remembered what she was doing. I chuckled and walked to the back and put my stuff away. As I busied myself with the mundane tasks in the shop, the bell chimed.
Hayley ran up to me and pointing towards the door. “Someone is here to see you,” Expecting it to be Andrew, I turned around ready to tell him to leave, but it was Detective Skyler who strolled up to the counter.
“Hey.” He moved in front of me with a wide smirk.
I walked over to him, his smile faltering and his eyes large. Seconds ticked by and his grin returned.
“Well, hello there,” he said. I peeked behind me and Corbin stood by the door with a box of paper cups, gawking at the detective.
They continued watching each other. Corbin moved first, handing the box to Hayley, and dashed into the kitchen.
Hayley and I glanced at each other. “I wonder what that was about,” she said.
I tilted my head. “I don’t know.”
Hayley walked into the back and I turned to the detective. “Who’s that?” he leaned over the counter, still staring at the swinging doors.
“That’s my boss, Corbin. Why?”
“Oh, no reason,” he said.
I narrowed my eyes. “What do you want?”
“Andy sent me to check up on you. I don’t know why he didn’t come himself.” I looked away, remembering the last time Andrew and I spoke. My stomach twisted with guilt. I spent days trying to figure out how to apologize to him.
“You seem to be intact. I did my job. See you around, Mr. Miller.” He sauntered to the door and stopped. “I will see you, too, Corbin,” he said, his voice intense and seductive. A big bang echoed from the back. Skyler walked out, snickering as he disappeared behind the corner.
I watched him disappear and turned, seeing Hayley walking up behind me.
“Jamie, what's going on?”
“Nothing,” I lied.
She studied me. “If you want to talk about it, I will listen.”
I blinked. “What—?”
She shrugged. “I promised I wouldn't press you any more. But when you trust me, I’m here.”
I smiled at her. "Thank you." She nodded.
Corbin peeked out the door and looked around the room. He slipped out of the kitchen and wandered over to us. “Hayley!” he glared at her, pointing to the counter.
“Oh!” She ran over “How can I help you?” I still stood there—trying to figure out what just happened.
He shook his head and turned to me. “You doing okay?”
My stomach tightened. "I'm good." He nodded and, when he walked away, the memory of Andrew’s body pressed against me crossed my mind. My skin grew warm.
I’m here.
If you need me, c
all me.
I bit my lip and I returned to the front, trying to push thoughts of Andrew away.
No such luck.
~
Three days later on Saturday morning, Hayley and I strolled down the sidewalk of Reid Park. The sun drifted behind the scattered clouds. Mature trees surrounded the snaking path. We continued, passing deserted gazebos and covered pavilions with cement tables. Sweat gathered on my forehead as I inhaled the dry air. We grew closer to a baseball field, circled by a tall, metal chain-linked fence. Hills of dead lawn rose and fell in the distance on the connected golf course. A few ducks remained, floating in the man-made pond. The dirty water sparkled against the sunlight. Hayley clung to my side with a wide smile. “So where are you from?” She had asked me two years ago and I avoided the question.
When you trust me, I’ll be here.
I clenched my jaw. “Louisiana.”
“What part?” Before I could answer, a chill shot down my spine. A soft rumble filled the silence as dark clouds drifted closer. The hair on my arms stood on end as I scanned the empty park. It grew silent—too silent. Not a single creature stirred. “What’s wrong?” Hayley asked.
I furrowed my brow. “Something feels off.” The air stilled and the ducks in the distance leapt into the sky. She searched her surroundings. Dark clouds continued to creep closer, blanketing the park in shadow. The sky flashed, and a shadowed figure appeared; trees bent against the sudden pounding wind. White eyes stared at us. The person moved, revealing a serious, sharp-angled face and smooth ebony skin with slicked-back hair — not a strand astray. They had a lithe form wrapped in a tailored, pale shirt and black slacks. Their body shimmered with soft silvery light, giving them an ethereal quality.
“Son of The Fallen,” they said, their voice empty and cold.
“Who are you?” Hayley said, her eyes focused on them.