Before the Fall (17 page)

“Saleos, are you sure you want to do this? Neither you nor your brothers know what you are getting into.”

A cold swept through him despite the heat of the day as two pairs of black eyes glared at him.

He stepped away from the twin Nephilim and went to Saleos, forcing a smile on his face.

“Come now, Saleos.” He nudged him with his elbow. “You don’t want to be tied down to Lucifer. You can be free to do what you want without him, and you can keep the gifts you have now.”

Saleos slowly turned to him, his tanned face a mixture of emotions. For a moment, Uriel thought he was actually considering what he said.

“Lucifer is coming,” Jether said, his voice monotone.

Saleos blinked and the moment was lost.

“How do you know?”

“Do you not hear him?” Joab asked gruffly.

Saleos threw Uriel a glare, his muscles tensing as he spoke. “I do not. He could be the enemy and I cannot hear him. So in answer to your question, Uriel”—he leaned into him threateningly—“I am sure that this is what I want.”

Saleos was a large man, much like his father. Although Uriel had the powers of an archangel ready at his disposal, for that one brief moment he actually feared him.

“Why should I listen to someone like you? You are Lucifer’s lap dog running around the countryside fetching humans for him,” Saleos sneered. “You shall never find one as worthy as I am. I may start as Lucifer’s foot soldier. But someday, unlike you, I mean to rule beside him as an equal. And in order to do that, I must become like him.”

“You will leave your father and mother behind?”

An odd chorus of laughter came from behind him from Jether and Joab.

“They are weak. My father is weak for not having the courage to do this for himself first before bedding my mother. If he had, I wouldn’t be in this position pleading for Lucifer to change me. I would have been like Jeremiel. As it was, he had to get someone else for my mother so that she could give birth to Jether and Joab. And my mother, she is weak for allowing herself to be taken. She should have killed herself before letting that happen.”

He turned to his brothers. “Yet, I am happy that she did.”

His brothers grunted in agreement.

“You can’t mean that,” Uriel said. “Your mother raised you, cared for you, all of you, to be who you are today. How could you shun her?”

“She did her job well. But she is only a woman. I am surprised, Uriel. You have done the same.”

He balked. “I have not.”

“Come now, Uriel. It is no secret that you have had sexual relations with many women throughout this land.”

Jether’s and Joab’s grunts of approval made him sick to his stomach. It was true. He was no different from Saleos and his brothers. In his mind, he had somehow convinced himself that the women he bedded got as much from him as he did from them. Why was it only now that he was realizing the ramifications of what he had done?

“Ah, Uriel, I see you are ready with Baka’s sons. Well done, my friend.”

Uriel turned and saw Lucifer. Next to him were a dozen men. Some he recognized as men he had identified for Lucifer as those with potential. Others were Nephilim. All were muscular and similar in height and build to Saleos and his brothers.

There was something strange about the Nephilim that stood at Lucifer’s side. They didn’t look how he remembered them. They still had that unearthly beauty that the other Nephilim like Jeremiel and Lahash had, but it was different. He looked over them carefully. Then one of the half-angels turned his head. Uriel staggered back at the grotesque face, horrified. When Uriel blinked, the face turned back to normal.

He swallowed the bile that worked its way up his throat.

“You have changed them.”

Lucifer’s lips curled into a slow smile, his eyes lighting up when he glanced at his creations. “They are magnificent, are they not? Saleos, take a look at what you are to become.”

Saleos took a step forward, inspecting the demons. They stood silent as statues, just like his brothers, except their black eyes stayed focused on Lucifer, waiting for his command. “Yes, they are.”

He marched to Lucifer with determination and got down on his knee, bowing his head.

“I am ready to do your will . . . Master.”

“No,” Uriel’s voice was a hoarse whisper.

“Is there a problem?”

He swallowed thickly as Lucifer’s eyes turned to thin slits. No one moved or made a sound. His heart pounded against his chest, each beat screaming for him to stop Lucifer.

He couldn’t let this happen. When would he stop? At a dozen? Two dozen? Then he recalled Lucifer’s threat. If he could create evil like this, there was no doubt that his threats were real. Lucifer could kill him.

Guilt rolled in his stomach as he shook his head.

“Very good. We shall proceed. Jether, Joab, take the stone slate and place it between the boulders.”

Uriel watched as Saleos’s brothers lifted a heavy stone that was almost the same size as they were. It would have taken a dozen men to lift it—if they could at all. For Jether and Joab, it took little effort.

His head started to pound as they placed the slab on the boulders. He wanted to stop what Lucifer was doing. He wanted to leave this place and to forget everything he was seeing. His mind bounced back and forth between the two choices that he had, and he didn’t know what to do.

As Saleos placed himself on the slab, Uriel could hear his voice repeating what he had just told him. He was Lucifer’s lap dog. Is this what he had given up living in Heaven for? Had he exchanged sexual pleasure for an eternity of damnation with Lucifer?

He moaned as Lucifer laid his hands on Saleos, chanting words as old as time. It was a language he had only ever been told about. All the angels knew of it, but it was forbidden to be uttered.

Saleos writhed on the stone as Lucifer continued his chant. Time passed in a foggy haze and Uriel felt himself grow weaker.

It was as if all of his energy was being drained from his body and being put into Saleos. He knew that wasn’t possible. Then he remembered what Rachel had once told him. There can be no good where evil dwells. Was this what was happening? Was whatever goodness that was left in him leaving his soul? And Saleos, what little good he had left, was that leaving him too?

The sun glowed with fierce red in the sky as dusk began to settle. Uriel leaned against a stone, exhausted. He watched as Lucifer paused and Saleos let out a final grunt of pain.

This was it.

Lucifer smiled and took a step back. He spread his arms up in triumph and cried, “Arise, my son Saleos!”

Saleos slowly sat up. His eyes were midnight black. When he stood, his face contorted and then there was a swoosh. A set of black wings flashed open from his back.

There was a roar of celebration.

No!
Uriel gripped the sides of his head as he felt his mind explode in pain. This was wrong. This was evil.

“Now, my dear Uriel,” Lucifer said. “Now is the time for you to show your true loyalty to me. Bring me Jeremiel and Lahash.”

Blood drained from his face. “I-I-I can’t . . . I won’t.”

He thought of Raphael and everything he did to raise his sons to be different from the other Nephilim. So much so, that they did not even know that they were half angel. Raphael was the only one he knew who had come down to Earth out of love. Not out of lust for women as he had, nor lust for power, like Lucifer. Raphael was truly good.

“Raphael would never want this for his sons.”

“Raphael is confused. He knows not what is best for Jeremiel. And as for Lahash, I am the better judge of what is right for him.”

“Why would he be any different than Jeremiel? Raphael would not give either of his sons over to be turned . . . into . . . unless...”

Lucifer gave him a knowing look and he took a step back. “He is your son. Lahash is
your
son. That is why you won’t face Raphael. You . . . you . . . how could you?”

Lucifer grabbed him by the collar of his tunic. “You will hold your tongue and learn your place, Uriel. What I do is my own affair.”

He let go of him and smoothed his face. Taking a deep breath, he smiled as if nothing had happened. “Now, you shall go to Jeremiel and Lahash. Perhaps Jeremiel first. He seems to be a pleasant fellow, easy to get along with. Ask him to come with you to meet his Uncle Lucifer. It has been years since we last saw each other. I’m sure he’ll come. As for Lahash, he may be a bit more difficult. After all, he is . . . complex . . . like his father.”

Uriel shuddered.

“Tell him that you have a way to help him in his desired betrothal to Naomi. I hear that Jeremiel is quite taken by her and has plans to lay claim to her, with his father’s approval of course. He has been meeting with the innkeeper frequently. Lahash will be eager for any proposition that will make her his wife. Nonetheless, you should not find it too difficult. They both know you, and they even like you. As for Raphael, you need not have any worry of him. Do not mention my name and he will be fine. He trusts you. After all,
you
are still his”—he curled his lips into a sneer—“Heavenly brother.”

He leaned in, his cool breath hitting against Uriel’s face. “You do remember our last conversation. Do you not?”

Uriel had no doubt that it was true. Lucifer had found a means to kill angels.

Each word that came out of his mouth felt like a thousand sins for which there was no forgiveness.

“As you wish . . . Master. I shall bring Jeremiel and Lahash to you on the morrow.”

L
ahash flew down the hill, heading toward home. Despite what he had said to Naomi, he knew why Jeremiel and his father were at the inn meeting with Gideon at that moment. He cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. For weeks, Jeremiel had traveled to Ai. During evening meals, he had never mentioned what he had been doing there, and Lahash hadn’t bothered to ask. It had never occurred to him to ask. Their relationship wasn’t like it used to be. Ever since the games, it seemed like he and his brother had grown further apart.

As was the tradition in the land, if a man wanted to marry, he first gave gifts to the woman’s father and then asked for permission to marry. It was a way of the man showing that he could provide for his family. As first born, Jeremiel had priority over whatever land and livestock their family owned. Lahash had nothing of value except for his sword. If he had any chance of winning over Naomi’s father, he had to bring the sword.

He swung the door open and it slammed against the wall as he flew into the room. His mother jumped up from where she was sitting.

“Lahash, what on Earth...” Her eyes were wide with shock.

“Did you . . . know?” His breath came out in pants even though it wasn’t a long run and he wasn’t tired.

The special twinkle she had every time she saw him vanished as sadness swept over her lovely face.

His chest tensed as anger swelled within him. He couldn’t help himself. He had never felt this way toward his mother before. The expression on her face gave him the answer, but he needed to hear it from her, to make it real.

“Mother, answer me.”

He hated the tone he was using. Each word was like the slash of a knife cutting into her.

She sank back into her seat, staring down into her hands—those gentle hands. Hands that had held him tenderly and rocked him to sleep when he was a boy. Hands that had brushed his hair out of his eyes when it grew too long. Hands that he had trusted . . . until today.

“Yes, I knew.”

He staggered back. Her words were a battering ram, slamming against his chest. His mother, his greatest ally, the one person who knew of his feelings for Naomi had betrayed him. It was real now.

He swallowed thickly, hoping to find the voice that seemed to be lost in a pit of despair. It came out in a hoarse whisper. “You know how much she means to me.”

“Please try to understand, my son. It is not easy for me. I love you and Jeremiel both. I want what is best for both of you. It is hard to deny happiness to either one of you.”

“Even if the happiness of one is at the sacrifice of the other?”

Tears filled her eyes and his heart broke for her. “Mother, I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “You are right. Jeremiel was set on being betrothed to Naomi. He was so excited when he told me about it. I . . . I didn’t have the heart to tell him about you and her. I told your father about your feelings for her.”

He bit down on his tongue, wondering. If it had been the other way around, if he had told her first about wanting to marry Naomi, would his mother have done the same? He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the evil thoughts. He knew better. His mother did love him just as much as Jeremiel. His father, on the other hand... He sighed.

“What did Father say?”

He braced himself when her face turned red and she cried harder.

“He says . . . that . . . that you will find another,” she sobbed. “He says Jeremiel is first born and he favors her.”

“It’s as I expected. Father favors Jeremiel.”

“That is not true,” she cried. “He cares for you both.”

He took hold of the sword and pulled it from its scabbard. Holding it into the light, he looked at the intricate detail of the hilt. “I know who truly cares for me.”

She leapt from her seat, knocking it down when she threw herself into his arms. His tunic grew wet as she pressed her face into his chest.

“I know my husband. And I know he loves you deeply. It is difficult for him to accept what has happened to us. He only believes in what he sees before him. With your brother, it is easy for him to see himself within him. He is within you too. And one day, he
shall
see it for you
are
his son.”

He was puzzled by her words. Why would she say something like that? He knew he was Raphael’s son. The only problem was that he wasn’t perfect, like his brother.

Gently, he peeled her arms from around his waist. “I must leave now before it is too late.”

“No, wait!” She dashed to the other room.

“Mother?”

When she came back out, she was placing a shaviss over her head.