Echoes in Eternity (The Pella Series Book 1) (45 page)

“A
huy!
”

Flickers of images floods
Marcus’s head with that single word. The same vision of a man with shoulder length curly hair, tall with a dull armor on his torso, his skin-tight boots going up right to his knees with a sword glinting in his hand appears. Marcus pushes the images back. But they force their way back in regardless. Marcus resists.

“A
huy!
”
Brother!

Marcus wipes his forehead with the back of his hand as if it would wipe the onslaught of images trying to make their way in.

“
Brother!
” he utters finally.

Both Gabe and Marcus came to a halt instantly. Gabe rapidly turns on his heels,
his disguise disappears with his wings unfurling with a great whoosh. His face is somber. He tips his head slightly in a sad greeting:

“Peace, mercy and blessings be upon you brother Shamsiel.” Marcus hasn’t heard this name in several millennia. The ma
n who called himself Gabe looks at Marcus’s weather beaten face, with half crooked bitter smile, and defensive stance with practiced floating rough hands points a pair of Colts to his chest. Gabriel’s real face emerges; bright, angelic, dominant, and determined. Marcus holds his ground, nothing gives away his feelings. He is stoic, determined and resolute.

“Gabriel.” This confirmation of acknowledgement is also packed with anger, defeat, protectiveness, and completely unyielding. Many emotions tumble in
to the utterance of one single word. “You say ‘Peace’ brother? I doubt you’re here for peace, mercy, nor blessing for that matter.”

“You knew the rules Marcus,” Gabriel
calls him with his human name. “Yet, you’re not truly fallen. But the offense still stands for the offspring you’ve produced!”

“Offense? What did I actually do to offend? Was I not there fighting with you in the Great War
when the
Morning Star,
” he says bitterly “sided a third of our brothers. Whose side did I fight with?” Marcus watches Gabriel’s face for a breath, taking two careful steps around. Gabriel’s gaze follows him vigilantly.

“Love is no capital offense Gabriel! It’s virtue.” Marcus hisses bitterly.

Gabriel’s somber face emerges closer, bowing his head slightly in a sad gesture. The
Watcher
angel, the man who later took a human form to raise Elissa, looks at Marcus’s weary sun beaten face, the former
Watcher
who is neither fallen, nor heavenly. Marcus is somewhere in between. But he broke the
Divine Law
by bringing forth an offspring. The thoughts through Gabriel floods out clear as the sun: the Nephilim are to be eliminated up to fifteen generations. Gabriel is determined to fulfill this decree. Here he wants to punish both the father and the daughter: the Father for giving life, and the daughter, for existing. My face changes with disgust and anger knowing both of them are innocent, yet victims of an archaic law. Hailey’s face comes inches away from me, invading my personal space. I lift my hand up and shove her face away. She shakes her head as if she has the right to shuffle through my head digging her hands into it. She wants to be up close and personal. Hailey closes her beautiful eyes, shading them with her long eyelashes. Her lips part, taking in some scent, an invitation is implied in the gesture. She’s once again offering herself. I ignore her; continuing to watch the conversation going on before my eyes.

“You know what I must do... You know I’m bound by duty!” says Gabriel in a pleading voice. You can hear the warring love and duty in his voice towards his brother. He owes him. Duty, bond, love and loyalty are clashing, dividing him inside.

“Gabriel. You know you can’t take me without me allowing you to.”

“I can. I have the divine power,” replies Gabriel.

“Not quite. I’m not fallen. I’m wandering.”

“Then why haven’t you fulfilled your duties as a
Watcher
?”

“
Humans say that t
he virtue of angels is that they cannot deteriorate; their flaw is that they cannot improve. Man’s flaw is that he can deteriorate; and his virtue is that he can improve. I wanted to correct my flaw,” says Marcus.

“Did you manage that?” asks Gabriel dryly.

“In my daughter, I did. I learned to be humble, vulnerable. I’ve experienced immense joy with the birth of my child, happiness in the bosom of my wife, unbearable misery with her death. I learned that men are worth saving despite their shortcomings. So, in short, I did learn a thing or two by being a man in this body.”

“What are you asking of me then...” pauses Gabriel, “Marcus?” referring to him with his human name once again.

“I’m asking for an exchange.”

“What makes you think I have the power to grant you an exchange? You do not own your life. It can be forfeited,” I hear the words he’s uttered to Elissa. “But, I’m intrigued,” opening a door for negotiation.

“My daughter is valuable. Unlike the other
Nephilim
, she is sinless. To destroy her would be a sin. But then, the
bounty hunters
, and the
Fallen
are after her. Because her blood, her sacrifice could provide them forgiveness.”

“That gives the fallen a chance to rise,” Gabriel adds. “It nullifies the decree that says they can’t be forgiven!”

“Exactly!” Marcus replies.

“What do you want in return of your binding, taking on your punishment?”

“I want you to protect the life of my daughter, in the next cycle. Don’t let anyone take her. She has a family, too.”

“That won’t work. She has procreated the fifteenth generation. That will forfeit their lives as well.”

“Not quite, they’re the sixteenth generation. If you agree to help her, I shall surrender,” Marcus says with nothing but determination.

“Is this what you want brother? You can get back in the ranks. She may die in this life, but...”

“No!” cut Marcus. “Either accept this offer or there is no deal!” He’s unyielding.

“I accept,” acquiesces Gabriel.

“Do you swear the oath brother, binding yourself with my curse? Do you swear to take care of my child should I be condemned to endure a Promethean misery for all eternity?”

Gabriel’s eyes blaze and the sight of him would have killed any mortal in the vicinity.

“Your burden is now my burden brother. I accept your exchange; life for life.”

Marcus sighs his relief, and surrenders himself to his brother. When they walk away, Marcus in the chains forged in heaven. But, they don’t go too far. Both Marcus and Gabriel sense the
Fallen
descent upon them slowly one by one.

             
“How nice of you to join us,” says Gabriel in a bitter, sarcastic tone.

“Nice indeed Gabriel, you were having a celestial meeting without an invitation for us,” says
Gadreel who is flanked by Azaziel and Baraqiel. Gabriel is immediately uneasy. Gadreel was one of the Watchers, a brother to them, but he is now accompanying a known Devil. It makes both Gabriel and Marcus wonder if he has changed sides. How could he do that? Marcus holds his place ready to fight even though he’s shackled. It was going to be the showdown of his existence. This was personal.

“We are here to persuade you Shamsiel,” says Azaziel.

“I’m not up for persuasion!” says Marcus who doesn’t correct him for being called by his heavenly name.

“You need to pick which side you are on,” says Azaziel
imploring, “you seem to have denied the upper floor,” he mocks jacking his thumb towards heaven.

“I have denied nothing! I’m still loyal to my maker…”

“Yes,” interrupts Azaziel, “but yet, you’ve divided your loyalties. That is not acceptable for our kind. You would be doing yourself a favor not to mention the rest of us, should you just offer the sacrifice...” he croons softly. “Your brother already abandoned you. Ask him why he’s here. But then again, maybe you know since you are the only one who is shackled in chains forged in heaven,” he mocks him. Marcus looks at his brother and Gabriel reluctantly unshackles him with one pass of his hand.

“Why I’m here is not any business of the
Fallen
,” bellows Gabriel.

“Mighty archangel Gabriel, the spirit of Truth!” Baraqiel says as if she
is uttering a curse. “How easy it is for you to speak when you have nothing to lose and nothing at stake,” she accuses defiantly tossing her head that showcases her blonde curls in a braided crown. I can’t help but think of Stella, Elissa’s nanny and immediately shut that thought down, but Hailey registers it, and makes the connection. She now knows all the angels in Elissa’s life.

“Baraqiel, you don’t have to force Marcus to sacrifice his child. You’ve been the angel of lightening, and sun. You were the benevolent one granting success and good fortune to mortals, and inspir
ing happiness and a sense of humor. And now you’re teaching secret arts of astrology to those who summon you, that is beneath you,” says Gabriel in an accusing tone.

“Look who’s talking? You don’t want him to sacrifice his daughter to do an immense service to his kind saving hundreds of us, as well as himself and perhaps create a balance once again between heaven and earth. Instead, you’re simply
here to exterminate her to fulfill a decree which by the way was given on insufficient information! Did I leave out the part where you were to imprison Marcus,” she says using his human name,“ he who was the ‘
sun
of God’?” shouts Stella taking out a bow conjuring an arrow made of light matter pointing at Gabriel’s heart. “Speak the truth, the spirit of Truth!” she says forcefully pulling the string of the bow as far back as it could handle the tension and the head of the arrow digs into Gabriel’s chest.

“Truth,” says Azaziel, surprising the others, “is that you took the cries of humanity under the strain of the Nephilim, our offspring and you instigated war among our children, you let them perish under mutual slaughter! And for what? Do you really think that humans are doing any better under their own strain? Our children could have been the force to balance them!”

“Your offspring were drinkers of human blood! They’ve been much stronger than humans, much faster, and had angelic qualities, yet their innate desire for blood turned into lust! As if these weren’t enough, the Nephilim had unmatched strength, unequaled beauty, and they were entitled to immortality! That would take out the balance between the Nephilim and humanity. They were not to be! All of those who were children of lust and fornication, the offspring of Watchers; they were to share that fate of destruction up to fifteen generations. They’re to be exterminated,” states Gabriel firmly with duty making me flinch in disgust.

“Yet, your brother’s child was spared. The girl,
for
,” lingering on the word casually as if solving a hard math problem, “what, fourteen generations and she was allowed to cycle back to life, but she’s in her fourteenth life cycle now, and her fifteenth is her offspring. Both the generations are eligible to die,” Azaziel says with excitement clapping his hands. “Why don’t you carry out your duty Gabriel? Exterminate your brother’s offspring! All of the remaining generations!” Azaziel finally booms, showing his true nature.

“If you
had been following my child’s progress properly, you would know that she’s in her fifteenth cycle! Her children are the sixteenth!” bellows Marcus.

“Thank you for the correction
Marcus
!” he mocks his human name.
“Your daughter is still eligible to be put to death!” thunders Azaziel.

All natural sound seizes in the desert, and the sun peaks its head busily heating up the sky. “You’re still in my territory. No one calls for the death of my child, and grandchildren,” says
Marcus and uses his command of the sun.              

“I have to agree with my father-in-law
,” calls out a voice, and for the first time since the beginning of the memory, Hailey’s attention is diverted from my face to the direction of the sound. Because that is my former self speaking. Our posse isn’t surprised with the Angelic confrontation scene before us. All of my men were tough, seasoned; some of them riding for the brand, our cowboys, and some are Nephilim; we are simply in the same fight.

“No one kills my wife, and children! We won’t tolerate the death of three people, no matter who gives the order.” All the
Fallen
and Gabriel have amused looks on their faces except for Marcus. I have always wondered if Marcus took the possibility of us looking for him into consideration and to come out to back him up. We’ve been after his trail for days, catching up, but Boreas leads us to the spot. The realization can be seen in Marcus’s eyes for a split second, then his face changes to impassive.

“Little mortal,” says Azaziel, “What can you do against us?” not realizing that I’m a Nephilim.

“Plenty! We ride for the brand. You mess with one of us, you get the rest of us!” responds young ranch hand Jesse, a blond boy of only 19. Marcus might have muttered “foolish boy!” but no one hears him speak, I however know what’s in his eyes. Our group lines up in U shape, ready to close the circle should it come to it. If Marcus was surprised to see us, he doesn’t show it. There are eleven of us in the posse, most Nephilim with the exception of young Jesse Caswell, and the foreman. Doc Henry is on one end of the line, and I hold the other. Smart. We are the sharpest, and most knowledgeable, swift and fearless; we’re Nephilim, but Azaziel doesn’t need to be informed of that. Ranch foreman Buck Whitman stands tall on his appaloosa grinning like an idiot under his big mustache. He pushes his hat back showing a little of his graying hair. Buck is human. Turk Stacy has never aged since Marcus saved him; he’s not a Nephilim, but not completely human either.