Crushed Seraphim (11 page)

She screamed and pulled her hand back.

It was fire. Invisible, perfect fire.

Before she’d died, she’d gotten Feisty to a small hole in the barn’s shingles so they could breathe. It had been a useless bit of relief. The fire was so furious and hot. But Emma wouldn’t leave without her horse. She’d clung to Feisty’s neck, soothing the horse while her own heart pounded. She’d focused on her animal’s beautiful eyes. When the fire roared over Emma, her skin had melted.

She looked at her hand now, and it was perfectly fine. This fire, though just as painful, was not going to burn her. It was just going to force her to relive her final moments.

What if I get stuck? What if the door doesn’t open? What if my Hell is this Hallway and I never leave?

She pictured Everett, the angels falling from the sky, the Parishes at the end of time. The gunshots kept sounding, fraying her to almost nothing.

I’m going to lose my mind, and soon. I need to do it.

She readied herself.

Just touch the door. Touch the door
.

Emma pictured Feisty’s eyes and centered her fear. She took off, but the pain engulfed her immediately. She was burning. Emma couldn’t scream because the fire was in her mouth. She was dying again. When she took a breath, the flames filled her lungs. She clawed at her throat with burning hands. She was being incinerated, yet she would never die. She could walk no more; the bottoms of her feet were scorching. Emma fell in the direction she hoped mattered. She stretched her arm out and felt a finger come in contact with metal.

The burning extinguished. Emma lay on the cement floor and sobbed. The gunshots still kept sounding. Her Sam stood before a firing squad again and again. Her skin felt fine, but her mind was like a petrified rabbit hiding from a ravenous fox. She could hardly use it.

Emma kept her skin touching the metal and tried not to imagine the “what ifs.” She could never go through the fire again. If this wasn’t God’s enclosure she’d open the door and stay in the cell herself. She couldn’t face the fire.

Her legs were wobbly, and she had to convince her hand to flip the switch. Seated on the cot was Santa Claus, complete with a jolly red hat. She cursed like sailor. Santa looked and smiled at her.

She felt boneless with relief. It was Him.

Only the memory of the fire would outweigh the instinct to fall to her knees. She pulled the door open, and it groaned in protest. She made sure to keep contact with the metal until her boots were fully inside God’s cell. He was peace and calm in the middle of agony. His brilliant blue eyes welcomed the sight of her.

God removed His hat because a lady had walked in the room, but He didn’t get up, which was odd for Him. Short, blond hair spiked in every direction. He was gloriously good-looking, but Emma didn’t notice anything but His generous smile.

She wanted to be cleaner, wanted to not be dressed like a hooker. She wanted to maintain all the decorum she so loved in Heaven. The best she could do was stagger. She fell in front of Him and held out her hands.

He took them and kissed her palms. Her brain solidified from the quivering mess it had been, and she could breathe.

God’s voice was honey even in Hell. “Seraph Emma, how did I know yours would be the face I’d see? Come from your knees and let me comfort you, my child.” He pulled her next to him and engulfed her in his arms.

She snuggled deeply into His fuzzy red coat. “I was so afraid, Lord. I didn’t think I could do it. Sam? Is that really Sam? Please, we have to save him.”

God petted her head and lifted her chin so He could smile at her. “Of course, Emma. Just sit on my bed and don’t get up. You have to stay put. No matter what.”

Emma nodded, and God lifted himself from the mattress. He was out the door and back before she could even process why sitting on the bed was so important.

“Sam is free, my selfless seraph. He’s been returned to his spirit and has taken flight.” Emma nodded and tried not to feel hurt that Sam had left again. He probably hated her for leaving him to be shot over and over.

God sat next to Emma and put an arm around her shoulders. She sighed. Being under God’s care took all the pressure away. Now everything would be all right.

“Okay, Sir, I need to update you on what’s been happening. Everett went ballistic and has been throwing angels from Heaven. I was sent, with only one wing, to be Jason Parish’s Christmas Angel. The future is grim and scary. We need to get back up there and put an end to this nonsense.” Emma stood and held out a hand.

God gazed at her offering softly. “If getting up was that simple I’d never have let you experience the Hallway, Emma.”

God pointed to a meter on the wall. Emma looked over her shoulder. It appeared to be a scale.

“Sir, I’m not sure I understand.” Emma walked over to the device and tried to see its purpose.

“My presence is required to preserve that soul. If this bed is empty, the Devil gets one of my children.”

Emma wanted to pull her hair out. The situation was so dire, and God was worried about one soul? She knew there was no reasoning with Him. Every single entity was His to love. She had no choice. She crossed the cell and sat next to Him.

Emma took His hand. “Sir, it would be my honor to take Your place. I’ll not move from this spot. Please go forth and save the world. Please.”

Emma had a feeling that her specific Hell would be fire, the one she hated most. She was disgusted with herself when she thought maybe the Devil would free her from time to time to make passes at her.

God touched Emma’s face. “I would not have you do that. This is my burden.”

“Sir, whose soul is it?” Surely she could withstand the pain for an innocent child. She could pretend it was Jason’s soul she was saving, coloring his future black eyes green.

God was reluctant to tell her. She could tell. “Emma, do you remember how often you begged Me not to play Santa at Christmas and be the one to parlay for souls?” God imitated her voice: “Sir, it’s a safety risk for You to descend to Earth, and You have no place in Hell. At least let some of the seraphim accompany You.”

His kind blue eyes made her smile. He was playing with her. His attention was the most soothing balm.

“And, Sir, You would always say…” Emma made her voice deeper to mimic His. “Seraph Emma, the risk is minimal. I need to feel the love of the season. The positive energy is such a warm bath. And Satan is a child of mine as well.”

God held her hand again. “You were right, of course. I gifted you with so much common sense.” He looked in her face and for once she felt like someone was proud of who she was.

“Sir, how could we deny You the beauty of being near Your children? I can deny You nothing. Never. But our time here must be short. You have to go, please. Remember my common sense?” She looked at Him expectantly. “It’s telling me You need to leave me here. Only God can fix the mess above.”

Emma realized she had to put in a plug for Jason, this being her final face-to-face with God. “Sir, I’m not sure I finished my task with Jason Parish. But he’s a good man — well, a good being. He needs to be made to believe He’s worthy of You. Please, if it’s Your will, please let him know what he’s worth.”

God closed His eyes and shook His head. “Of course I love Jason. But you, Emma, your bravery does not deserve to be rewarded with an eternity in Hell.”

“I wasn’t brave, Sir. I was scared and I cried and I didn’t have a good solution for Sam, and I almost gave in to the Devil. And I cursed. A lot. I think this might be exactly where I belong.” Emma hung her head.

“So much doubt, beautiful child. Do you not know the face of God?” He tilted her chin up and she looked at Him.

“Maybe I’ve never been good enough at all. I mean, I got into Hell.” Emma’s doubt flamed in her heart. Was that this cell’s power or was her weakness her own?

“You came here to save Me and the world. You are more than good enough. I can’t leave you here, and I won’t.” God seemed to settle in.

Emma sighed. She loved that God thought she was so important.

They sat next to each other for a moment. The cell door was open, inviting them both to leave the soul to the Devil and claim their escape.

There has to be something. There has to be something.

All of the sudden, Emma smiled. God turned to the goodness like a flower to sun.

“Sir, will You be making me an angel again? I know it’s a lot to assume. I’m sorry for being forward.” Emma stood from the bed.

God nodded. “Of course. I’ll return your wings and restore your glory before you leave Me here.”

Emma nodded. “I was hoping You’d say that. Please, Sir, can I have them now?”

God motioned for her to come closer. The ceremony was so much more beautiful in Heaven. The clouds would have been tinted with gold and the other angels would be standing by, resplendent in their nobility.

God kissed Emma’s forehead, lips, and cheeks chastely, in the sign of the cross. She opened her eyes and looked into His benevolent ones. He recited the formal ritual.

“I claim your soul back under my care, beautiful seraph. Your unique perfection was created under my watchful gaze, and now you have been returned to me. I have always been proud of you, my child. But right now my praise will become wings for your shoulders. Angel Emma, you
are
loved.” God hugged her to his chest, gently forcing her to bend.

His love shot through her heart and bloomed. Pure, crystal love straight from her maker raced through her and solidified into wings on her back. Her glorious, white wings became an oversized feathery frame for her body.

Tears fell from her eyes and she went to her knees before God. He smoothed her hair out of her face. The last time He’d performed this spectacular miracle, the stars had collided in huge, cosmic fireworks. The sun became brighter and rainbows danced in the sky. It had filled Emma with awe.

This time it was just her and God, but the awe and gratitude were just as potent. She tested her wings, and God laughed as she caught the glitter that fell like fresh snow from her feathers.

She looked down and her hooker outfit had disappeared. She wore her angel garb again. The white silk was butter soft. She was reinstated and proud.

Emma shook her head because she would miss this, very soon. She knew it took a lot out of God to create a seraph. He had to restore His energy between each angel.

“Sir, thank You.” She bowed her head and wings to Him.

He nodded like the regal king He was.

“May I ask another question?” Emma twisted her hair into a knot.

She stepped a few feet away from God so couldn’t reach her from the cot. God nodded. He seemed anxious for her to leave so she could get back to His pained, fallen angels.

“The half-breed, Jason, prayed to give me his strength. Was that emotional strength or physical?” Her hands started to shake.

God knew what she planned then. He connected the dots. He gave each of His children free will, and it was a gift He never demanded back.

He answered her because He would never lie. “Both, my child. He gave you both.”

God’s eyes filled with tears. Emma tried not to pause as she reached behind her and grabbed her brand new soft, white wing. She pulled as hard as she could and ripped it from her back. The pain caused her to scream and collapse. She hefted the wing in front of her. While she panted with agony, she tested the weight. It didn’t seem heavy enough by itself.

She started to cry and God reached for her, His arms open as if for a hug. But she shook her head. Before she could lose her nerve she ripped the other manifestation of His love from her back, her screams filling the room again. The transformation was quick. She reverted to human in an instant. Her heart began to beat, and she took a deep breath of the stagnant air.

Her wings were too heavy for her to carry, so she dragged them as she crawled back to God. He lifted her into His lap, hugging her hard and touching her wounded back. Judging from the puddles of silver on the ground, God was healing her.

“My child, I love you so. Your pain is my pain.” God’s tears combined with hers on her cheek.

Even sitting in His lap, she felt farther from Him than she had when she’d been an angel a world away. “Please, take my wings and let’s see if they’re enough, if they can hold the bed down for us,” Emma begged. “I’ll come back to stay here and take my wings’ place if the Devil demands his due, but first let’s right the world.”

Emma would have laughed at the image of a full-grown woman sitting in Santa’s lap in Hell, but her soul had just been ripped in half by her own hands. She scooted down to sit on the mattress, and God reluctantly got up. He lifted her wings with ease and set them behind her on the bed.

“Your sacrifice will hold, my child.” God gathered the crying Emma in His arms, holding her close to His chest.

She snuggled into His fuzzy red jacket and closed her eyes. God would carry her to the surface, and then they could make plans together.

Emma reveled in the comfort of God’s arms. His waves of pure, undiluted love could heal any wound. She stopped shaking as the mental and physical torture she’d endured faded away. She felt God kiss her hair, but she refused to open her eyes, not wanting to see what was making the horrible noises in Hell. Her hair came loose and tumbled around her shoulders again.

The void.

She knew they were now traversing the space she’d fallen through to get to Hell, and that the Devil had just been through in his quest to enter the world. He’d no doubt fought a raging battle, but God would jump, dodge, and send out beams of power to protect her, as well as Himself. She loved it like this. He made all the right decisions, and she was safe. Safe in Hell with God. Soon God’s love was so warm it felt like sunlight on her face.

She realized they were at the surface when God chuckled softly. “My daughter, my sweet seraph, you must wake. I can’t carry you forever.”

She snuggled deeper in his arms like a sleepy child on a Monday morning.

“We have work to attend to, but holding you makes me feel so proud. I did a wonderful job with you, if I do say so myself.” He set Emma on her feet, and she reluctantly faced the present.

She remembered her manners and nodded at Him. “Thank You, Sir.”

God took in the sky above them, looking for falling angels. When He gazed at her again, it was with infinite patience. He would never rush her, even if the world were threatening to upend itself.

“Sir, may I make confession?” Emma knelt before Him. His fuzzy red pants and black boots became her confessional.

God put his hand on her head. “If it will give you comfort, my child.”

“Sir, I’ve done a lot wrong lately, but the worst, by far, was doubting You.” Emma clasped her hands together more tightly. She was almost used to her human form again, with its thumping blood and rhythmic breathing. “How can You hold me in Your arms when I failed to believe in Your power?” She needed His forgiveness. Whatever would come with the rest of the day, she could face it knowing she was right with God.

God took her prayer-filled hands and pulled her until she stood. Still, she kept her head down. “Emma. I forgive you for doubting me.” He wouldn’t let go of her hands. “Will you do me the same courtesy?”

She looked to His face in shock. “Of course not! I could never — ”

God touched her cheek. “You would never imagine that I could make a mistake. I know, seraph. You’re so hard on yourself. I gave my children free will, and that gift may have wrought more pain than I would ever want for you.”

Emma leaned into His chest. He was the softest sun. He pulled her into a hug.

“Imagine what it was for me to watch you run into the barn to save your horse. As much as I love you, to let you step into that inferno?” He stroked her hair. “I never wanted to see you in pain, but I had to let you make that choice, Emma. Without tough choices there would be no souls entering Heaven at all. It’s an incredible burden. I fight with myself every moment of this world’s existence. To hear the prayers and let some go unanswered — sometimes it still feels like a mistake to me. My children come to me with open hearts and needs, and yet…and yet, they must live their lives as they wish.” He gave a deep sigh, the burden of a thousand forevers.

Emma smiled into His Santa coat. “Okay, God. I forgive You for trusting me. I promise to trust You in return.”

He patted her back, and she had to convince herself to step away from Him.

“I think I’m back to full power. Emma, are you ready for more wings?” God smiled into her face, like it was just a regular old day.

“No, Sir. We have too many angels to reinstate and save. We have to locate Everett. I think it’s best if You save Your power for the next angel.” Emma tried to ignore her body’s craving for God’s goodness.

He nodded, always respecting her decisions. “I’m not surprised you put others before yourself,” He said. “You do have free will as a human again. Please be gentle with yourself for me.”

Emma smiled, waiting to see what God would do next.

“My time here is limited, as you know,” He said. “A full twenty-four hours and I’ll start an apocalypse that won’t stop. I think your time would be best spent finding Jason.” God patted her shoulder.

Emma nodded. Her heart wanted to find the half-breed. She wanted to thank him for praying and releasing her from the Devil’s snare.

God smiled and began to glow brightly. Emma tried to watch Him as long as she could as He transformed from a man to so much more. The light He emitted created green grass, flowing life from underneath the snow. The faces of countless lovely souls passed through the light as God rounded up His most recently departed children.

Her human eyes had to drop to the ground. When she looked back up, God was gone. Emma sighed. The loss of His power was devastating. She looked at her feet and saw that God had added snow white boots, a coat, and white leggings to her silky gown.

Both God
and
Jason had a penchant for dressing girls in warm clothes. She tried to orient herself. Jason’s house was to the west, so she began to make the trip, walking like the mortal she had become.

It had been not even an hour when she encountered a random mist — a patch of smoke. The moment she walked into it, the smell was undeniable. It was the Devil’s sweet cigarette smoke that acted as his pet. Then Emma saw his forearm and hand poking out of the snow.
Son of a bitch. He’s like a never-ending virus.

She let the rage of her Hallway Hell consume her. Emma would not help him. She probably couldn’t help him. She took purposeful steps past his seemingly disembodied hand. The sidelong glances she begged herself not to take told her his hand was stiff and dead-looking.

But he can’t die — he’s already dead
.

She vacillated between choices. Satan had been on his way up here to hurt Everett. And Everett needed hurting. She stomped on. The angel in her refused to let Hell come to Earth. Emma was here to defend it, even if her wings were weighing down a horrible scale, far from her body.

First she’d find Jason, then she’d figure out what to do about the Devil. She’d not gone a hundred steps when she heard God’s voice so clearly in her head: “
I did a wonderful job with you, if I do say so myself.”

God would want her to save Satan. Emma knew He would. He loved all His children.
Even the freaking Devil.

“You know what? It sucks to be me.” Emma stomped back to the dead-looking hand.

His forearm bore a detailed tattoo of a cross, music note, and a knife. He must have known beauty at some point and wanted to keep it on his skin.

“This is so stupid. Honestly, this guilt I put on myself is crazy,” Emma said to no one in particular. She used her hands to dig the snow away from his arm. “His twisted
ass is going to toss me right back into that cell.”

Emma gulped at the memory of the fire. It should have been enough to stop her cold, but she kept digging. When it became clear that his arm was buried deep in the soil, not just the snow, Emma had to pause to find a long stick. She used it to loosen the dirt and wiggle his arm free. She uncovered it all the way to his shoulder, then shook her head at his lack of movement.
He got so close. Just a few more feet and he’d have made it. Bastard
.

Suddenly his hand popped to life and grasped her arm tightly. She gasped. “Holy crap!” Her heart thudded wildly.

She grasped the arm that grabbed her and pulled and pulled. The Devil was vomited forth from the soil as if it was a great mouth. Emma stumbled backward, and the Devil landed with his face in her lap.

She started slapping at his evil head, but grew concerned when he didn’t respond. One of his ankles was still buried in the ground. Although he’d spent an unknown chunk of time entombed, he had not a speck of dirt on him. Emma flipped him off her lap and onto the ground. He was limp. His leather jacket fell open to reveal his bare chest. Emma felt for a heartbeat and, of course, got nothing.

Damn it, he was moving just a few seconds ago.
She threw her hands in the air and began mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. After three gusty mouthfuls of air, she felt his hand grab the back of her head. He turned the rescue maneuver into a deep French kiss. Emma responded before she remembered she hated him. Then she pulled herself away, and he let go of her hair. His eyes remained closed as he touched his fingertips to his lips.

“Emma the angel — that’s what this set of lips tastes like.” He opened one eye and smiled. “How in Hell are you here?” His delight reached his eyes.

She stood up. “No thanks to you or your Hallway of Horrors.”

Satan remained prone and looked to the sky. “It’s been a long fucking time since I’ve seen that.”

He sat up and checked his guns and ammo. His ankle was still buried and Emma wasn’t quite sure why it bothered her so.

I’ve saved him from the ground. My work here’s done.

Emma pulled her hair away from her face and twirled it into a knot. “Well, I’m not sure where Everett is, but God’s free and He’s in Heaven, so you’re here for no reason at all.” She set off toward Jason’s home again, internally cursing Satan. Then she felt his hand clamp around her boot. She stopped and waited.

He apologized quietly. “Emma, I wanted you to stay put. I never wanted you to face that Hallway.”

She whirled to glare at him while thinking of Sam’s gunshots, the hologram of her father, and God.

“It was designed perfectly to break me, so I find that a little tough to believe. You’re the Devil. All you can do is lie.” She tried to kick his hand off, but he would have none of it.

“Please, look at me?” he asked.

She stubbornly looked everywhere but his face. He waited. She gave an annoyed huff and glared at him.

The regret was tangible on his face. “Princess, I
have
to do a thorough job. You have free will? I don’t. Not usually. You have courage? I don’t. Not usually. Believe me when I tell you I didn’t want to see you hurt. Not you.”

He was so sincere. But Emma hated to concede him anything after what he’d put her through.

“You got out.” She tried not to let her softening heart get into her words.

“No, I
almost
got out. Without you I would be here for all eternity waiting for someone to have sympathy for the Devil. I tend to think it would have been a long time.” He had not released his iron grip, but his face was relaxed. “Can I say thank you?” He fluttered his alarmingly sexy eyelashes.

“No. Up yours. I pulled you out for my conscience, not to save you. That was just a byproduct.” She wiggled and fidgeted, needing to find Jason.

“You’re human now. God didn’t see fit to keep you on His guard?” He looked worried despite his taunting words.

“No, Devil. He did. I ripped my wings off to keep the soul in balance so God could leave with me.” She remembered the pain of her loss and snarled at him.

Then she was seized by regret. Maybe she shouldn’t have told him that. Maybe he could snap his fingers and have her back on the cot.

He let go of her ankle and nodded. “I should’ve known. Of course you’d give your very redemption as freely as you gave your heart in life.”

He pulled out his flask and took a deep drink, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand when he was done.

“If we’re done here, good luck with Everett. Kick ass and all that.” She readjusted her boot. His ankle being stuck still bothered her. “Are you going to be able to handle that?” she asked, gesturing toward it.

The Devil smiled at her concern. “Yes, pretty child, there’s nothing I can’t handle.” He raked her body with a leering stare.

She hugged herself and shook her head. “Okay, then I gotta go.”

“Wait! Please stay for a few moments. I need to free myself before I’m comfortable with you leaving my side. I can feel Everett’s evil, and he’s not in Heaven anymore.” Satan pulled out a knife and started hacking at the soil around his foot. “Actually, he’s knee deep in half-breeds, if I’m judging correctly.” The Devil was using an extraordinary amount of force to try to free his ankle.

“Well, to Hell with you. I’ve got to get to Jason.” Emma began backing away from the scene.

“Emma? I have one last battle to fight before I’m allowed here on Earth. And this last beast? He has a taste for hope. He likes to eat it for dinner. When he busts through, which I gauge to be in about thirty seconds…” Satan pulled his foot free from the soil. His ankle was wrapped in a slender, green tentacle. “He’ll go straight for you. I’d prefer he had to go through me first. So if you’d be kind enough to stay behind me…” The Devil smiled and gestured to his side like he was offering her his spot on a crowded bus.

The ground began to rumble. She staggered closer to Satan only because he was armed and seemed prepared. He caught her around the waist and pulled her against him.

“Have no fear, beautiful. He’ll have to kill me to get you.”

Satan kissed her lips gently, but Emma hardly noticed. Behind him a tremendous dragon-shaped evil emerged from the ground. It was at least twice the size of the tallest tree Emma had ever seen.

Satan watched the beast reflected in her eyes. “Emma, look at me, don’t look at him. He searches for hope and kills it. You’re the brightest beacon for him. Stay behind me. I’m hoping my hate will mask you.”

She tore her eyes from the bone-chilling beast and looked at the Devil’s handsome face.

“Princess, if he gets to me and I fall, promise me you’ll run — ” The ground began curling and forming mounds from the force of the monster’s first earth-bound steps. “Run and pray to your God the whole time. Promise me. Do it now!”

Emma swallowed hard. She couldn’t get her voice to work, so she nodded as fast as she could.

Satan still held her. “Kiss me once more, angel. It will give me strength.”

Emma grabbed both sides of his face and kissed his lips softly. “Bless you.”

The sun was eclipsed now by the monster who seemed distracted by his non-fleeing prey. Satan smiled at her once more, then turned to stand between her and the scariest thing she could ever imagine.