Forgotten Souls (3 page)

Reaching their hands back, they steadied us without a word. The wall their bodies created made it next to impossible to see around them.

Finally slightly frustrated, I slid my hands between Mark and Shawn's shoulder trying to pry them apart so I could get a glimpse of who had trespassed into our safe zone.

Giving in to my insistent touch, the guys parted allowing us to see for ourselves.

Sam gasped, and my own mouth dropped open in surprise taking in the stranger that stood before us.

The individual in front of us was by far the most imposing individual I had ever seen. He easily stood at nearly seven feet tall and was all muscle. His hair was so golden that the sunlight streaming through the window made each strand dance. His eyes could rival the bluest of oceans with a startling intense shade that seemed to bore through your very soul. He may be the most beautiful person I had ever seen. By his mere presence, the room seemed to glow with an intense energy that I could feel throughout my entire body. Every loop of the lush carpet glistened where he stood, while the walls shined brilliantly and almost iridescent. The room resembled what I could only imagine Heaven looked like.

It was apparent our Archangel had finally decided to grace us with his presence. I guess two weeks late didn’t matter much to him.

He smiled at me with what I could only call a knowing smile as he easily picked the thoughts right out of my head. My frustration was evident as it wasn’t that long ago that another individual had surged into my thoughts without my permission.

From the gasps behind me and the way his smile took each one of us in turn, it was obvious my thoughts weren’t the only ones he had gleaned. I opened my mind to take in Mark's thoughts and could see his bitter objections mirrored my own.

"I see you are recovering well from your recent foray," the beautiful being in front of us said in a deep bass voice. "Come in, there is much to be discussed."

"Now you care about our injuries? Where were you two weeks ago?" Mark finally asked, voicing all of our thoughts. "You let us go through that nightmare with that Demon alone." Mark continued spitting out the words. "You risked all of our lives and now you decide to show up with your infinite wisdom to tell us we're some kind of celestial beings called "Protectors and Guides?" Well guess what you're too late; we got to hear it first hand when that madman tried to kill us," Mark continued, all but screaming as he stepped forward from our united front.

I was shocked at Mark's rant. Of course I felt the same way, but it seemed wrong to raise a voice at the individual in front of us. I could tell Shawn felt the same way when he rested a hand lightly on Mark's arm, as if to rein him in. I grasped his other hand in mine and poured all the soothing emotions I could muster into him. I could feel his rage and was taken back at how quickly it had consumed him. For the first time since we realized we could sooth each other, I felt my energy drain as I worked to calm him.

"Enough," the being said with a quiet yet stern tone that instantly blanketed the rest of Mark's rage, leaving only confusion behind.
I could see just a glimpse of his inner turmoil before he swiftly closed the link between our minds.

I felt a little hurt that he shut me out so thoroughly. Before I could dwell on it, though, the stranger beckoned us into the room, gesturing to the couch, obviously indicating his desire for us to sit. Had the situation been different I may have giggled as all six of us squeezed onto a couch that was intended for four at the most. Sandwiched between Mark and Sam, I caught both of their conflicting emotions as I grasped their hands in my own.

"I did not intervene two weeks ago because that was not my task. I was instructed not to contact any of you until all of you had hit eighteen cycles of your life," he said in his soothing voice that could only be described as enticing. It appealed to every sense I had and made me wish that I could listen to it forever without pause.

"Um" I said reluctantly breaking into his speech. But, before I could get the first syllable out, he held up one of his massive hands.
Sheesh, even his hands were beautiful,
I thought, admiring the smooth skin that any girl would die for.

"Just because your adopted family led you to assume your birthday was the sixth day of the fifth month, does not mean they were correct. You celebrated your eighteenth cycle of life today," he said addressing me.

I was surprised by his announcement, but of course he was right. I had always known my birthday was a rough estimate, but it had just seemed so trivial until now.

"My job is to communicate what your duties are and to prepare you for your future assignments. I have seen enough of your thoughts to know the false lies The Dark Angel offered you as an explanation. Much of what he said is essentially true. You are
what The
Light calls The Chosen Ones. You were created and paired to help save the souls that would otherwise be forgotten if not for you," he said looking pointedly at Sam, Lynn, and me. "You were created to use your power of emotional transfer to return the souls that are so easily swayed to the right side, into the light and away from the dark. Your Protector is there to keep you safe from those that wish to reject you and bring you harm. The Dark Angel made it his duty to try to convince you that your gifts are a curse, but his dark soul has forgotten what he was truly created for. The Light doesn't view you as pawns, but more as beloved Chosen Ones. The Dark Angel allowed evil to alter his view, choosing to resent what he was created for."

My head raced at all the titles he threw out at us. It wasn’t hard to distinguish who The Dark Angel was, but I felt it was odd that he referred to God as The Light, and the Devil as The Dark One. I would have expected Satan, Demon, pure evil, but The Dark One seemed so blasé. I have to admit, though, that I felt honored that we were considered The Chosen Ones. After spending my life thinking I was abandoned and unloved by my real parents, it was kind of nice to think that I was picked for something.

"If we're so important then why did you wait so long to visit us?" Mark asked in an oddly subdued voice.

I couldn't feel any more anger radiating off of him, but I also couldn't quite make out his mood. It was like looking into a melting pot of different ingredients, every emotion seemed to have merged together. I couldn't help feeling worried. I was so used to seeing his loving and kind emotions, that it was a little disconnecting to not be able to locate them.

"My job is to show the Guides how to use their gifts, and to train the Protectors the proper ways to use their skills," he continued as if Mark had not uttered a word. It was obvious who was boss at the moment. "Guides need to train as well, because they possess gifts that exceed those of the Protectors. Their primary job of course is to try to sway the lost souls with their emotional gifts, but by now I'm sure you have also discovered one of your other gifts?" he asked directing the question at me.

"Um, yeah.
I think it’s the above average speed," I said tentatively.

"Correct. Guides are given the gift of speed for one reason. To get them far from a situation that might bring them harm. However, The Dark Angel did mislead you on some aspects. The life bond requirement only holds true for the Protectors. You cannot live without your Guide, but a Guide can survive a separation if properly trained. For example, when Krista was near death she found a way to persevere."

"No, that's not true. Mark healed me in our dream," I stammered, more than a little confused.

"Incorrect. The dream itself gave you the strength you needed to fight back. Guides control the dreams. You mapped your dream the way you wanted it to go. You felt yourself slipping away and used the dream to give you what you thought you needed which, was the healing
touch
of your Soul Mate."

"But how unfair is that to the Protectors? They have to keep us safe and then oh yeah they die if we die, but if they die, we can still live." The injustice of it made my voice stronger than before.

"My dear child, it is not an 'injustice,'" he said, picking the word from my thoughts. "It is an honor and a privilege to be matched with souls as beautiful as a Guide holds, and to be given the important task of keeping them safe. No Angel in Heaven would feel otherwise," he said, now looking at the guys with intensity. Both Shawn and Robert nodded their heads instantly in agreement. Mark delayed, almost as if an invisible hand was forcing his actions.

I couldn't blame Mark that much. It seemed grossly unfair and made it all so much clearer why his dad had turned dark. What if Mark someday decided it wasn't worth it?

Mark squeezed my hand.
I'm not my dad,
he said, finally allowing a thought to slip outside the gate he had erected in his mind. I should have felt relieved from his reassurance, but I felt oddly dejected.

"So, what do we need to do?" Shawn asked, breaking the silence that had settled over our group.

"We start training. Usually it would be up to your parents to help you with the technicalities. That job is now mine," he said.

"What kind of training?" Sam asked intrigued.

"The Protectors must prepare in combat training, while the Guides will learn to filter the emotions of those who need your gifts the most."

"Filter?"
I asked puzzled.

"Yes. Your 'emotional gauge' as you refer to it, is better described as an emotional filter. Over the years you have learned to shy away from the emotions of others as a defense mechanism. Your gift requires you to embrace the negative emotions of others and to filter them back, void of the negativity."

 "Emotional filters?" Lynn mused next to me, not sounding completely excited about the idea.

I couldn't blame her. The idea of sucking the negative emotions inside of me instead of blocking them made my stomach turn uncomfortably.

"What do you mean?" I asked

"For example, when your Protector was feeling animosity toward me a few minutes ago, you tried to soothe him with your own emotions, thus draining your own energy supply. I will teach you how to filter the same negative emotions without depleting your strength. When you are fully trained, you will learn to use those same negative emotions as an energy source," he said. "We start in the morning."

Lynn groaned beside me, she so was not a morning person. I grinned for the first time since
he
had shown up.

"So, what do we call you?" I asked, not trying to sound rude, but the idea of calling him
Archangel
or
he
the whole time seemed ridiculous.

"I'm Haniel, Prince of the Angelic Order," he said with great importance.

"The grace of God," Sam said in awe after a moment.

"Yes," he answered, looking impressed with her knowledge.

I turned to Sam, surprised.

"I've been obsessed with the whole Angel thing since you guys were held hostage," she said shrugging. "I wanted to be prepared if that 'freak' was right even though I had my doubts."

I wasn't all that surprised that Sam and the others questioned our story. I had heard the tale firsthand and even I harbored my own doubts. But here stood our proof in all seven massive feet of muscle. One thing was certain, God wasn’t messing around when he created his Archangels, if Haniel was any indication of that.

"So, why can't we start training now?" Robert
asked,
standing and pulling Lynn up in one swooping motion. "Let's get this show on the road. I for, one don't want the girls entering into a situation they're not ready for. If that means we train until we drop from exhaustion so be it."

Mark and Shawn surged to their feet at his words, pulling Sam and me up at the same time. "I agree," Mark said, finally sounding like
himself
, as he laced his fingers through mine, briefly squeezing them gently, trying to reassure me.

"Very well, we will use God's playground for the training," Haniel said, gesturing toward the vast beach outside the plate glass windows. "I would think all of you might wish to change your garments."

I smiled, looking down at Sam's six inch platform sandals that did great things for her legs, but would be highly impractical for training. Of course, Lynn's scuffed converse sneakers weren't much better.

Sam, Lynn and I scurried off to one of the extra guestrooms in the beach house that Lynn and I were sharing. Mark had offered his dad's room, but none of us felt comfortable being in there. The room seemed to pulsate as if it held the evil essence of the man that had vacated it. Every time I passed the door, I felt the hairs on the back of my upper arms stand up and a chill would race down my spine. For the most part, we all avoided that section of the house and only risked walking by it on our way to the utility room to do laundry.