Genesis of a Hero (7 page)

“Seeing if we could offer any help,” Denise answered.

“You can help me by cutting these chains and letting me out of this cage,” Christy snarled. “Or telling these idiots to go away and the Great Lord will do it for me. His powers are far greater than God’s. After he rises from the abyss, all of you will fall to your knees before him.”

“Lucifer has no power here,” the angel in front of her cage preached. A Bible in his right hand thumped against the iron bars. John didn’t envy h
is job. Christy and Charles were both lost causes in his mind. They fell to Satan’s side long ago - merely for a lust of power. No remorse, or love, existed in her crazed face. She continued levying curses with glowing red eyes of Lucifer’s taint.

John turned his back on her in disgust. The War for Sins was lost if too many were born wrapped in evil like she was.

Melody, on the other hand, was sitting peacefully with no attempts to strike out with Lucifer’s gifts. But when John pressed towards her with the Spirit; a black wall met the divine touch.

A tremulous
hum, which sounded like a children’s lullaby, lifted from her throat. It was strangely hypnotic and sounded like something she’d hummed a million times. He pictured her leaning over a child’s bed with a night light shining in the dark.

They sat and watched her for an hour. Xavier and the woman angel poured continuous pleas for her to gather her strength and reach for her faith. To beg for God’s mercy and let the Spirit wrap her in the warmth of His grace. Melody never responded and eventually laid her head down and went to sleep.
John wondered if his vision of Melody humming to the child had been a gift from the Spirit; or simply his imagination.

“They’ll have to keep
a constant watch on them,” Harold said as they walked down the candle lit corridor outside the locked cell room. “It would be tough, but they’d eventually find a way out of the chains we bound them with. Lucifer’s powers are hard to contain without a constant watch.”

“Slippery and slithery,” Denise sighed. “
All his powers are disgusting. I’ll never understand how angels fall.”

John nodded and glanced over his shoulder. “With Charles and Christy, I can kind of understand,” he murmured. “They want power on Earth. And the devil promises them that.”

“Stupid of them to trust anything the great deceiver says,” Denise spat. “Hopefully, Xavier and the others can help lead them to the light.”

“I’ll pray for them,” Harold said and ascended the steps to the hallway of
Whispering Trees.

“For now,” Denise whispered as they passed a group of laughing girls heading to their dorms. “We can concentrate on Aaron’s plans for the Christian Revival.
It’s only a few weeks away.”

“Outreach is important,” Harold offered lightly.

“My dad always preached that,” John said. “But I’m not letting my guard down… and I’m going to keep one eye out for Charles. It’d be nice to have him chained with his sister downstairs.”

With that, Harold
said a quick good-bye and turned down the hall leading to the rooms where they stayed.

“Want to go for a walk?” John asked Denise and held out an inviting arm. She took it with a smile. “Then we can go grab something for dinner. I know a good Italian place by the Cathedral in Los Angeles. We could take the gate there and be back in an hour.”

“Lead the way,” she said and laughed as he trotted out the front doors into the smell of trees, flowers, and animals. A world full of God’s bountiful creations.

Chapter 6: Panel of Justice

June rolled by in a chorus of small demon skirmishes. Aaron and Xavier’s continuous downplaying of hell’s fury was grinding on John like a river cutting a canyon through the Earth.

“I don’t understand it,” he fumed to Denise and Harold.
They were perched at the very top of the highest redwood tree in the area. All around them the forest spread in a hazy mix of drizzle and fog. The gloomy, gray clouds matched their moods. “That’s three groups of reidlos, two packs of selvo, and a sinna demon in the last week! It has to be the Nightwalkers. And there has to be more than two of them to raise this many demons.”

“With Ashley getting hurt so
bad, we’re down another angel too,” Harold added while he absently plucked at the green branches of the tree. He shivered as he continued, “I can’t imagine losing a leg like that. Even with the Spirit, that had to hurt.”

“I went and talked with her today,” Denise said and rubbed the long scar on her arm. “She’s doing okay. Alrea
dy wants to get out there again, but she’s also a little worried about her kids. She has an eleven year old and a nine year old at home…”

“Tough to fight demons on one leg,” John mused. His wings were spread behind his back to help him balance on
the furthest tips of a thin branch.

Denise sniffed and tossed an acorn into the canopy below. “She’s looking forward to the Revival festivities more than anything. I think she knows her fighting days might be over.
Aaron will know how to involve her.”

“Hopefully better than he did in th
e last fight,” John said, but regretted it immediately when Denise shot him one of her famous glares. They’d had three more dates and all had been thrown in with the best times in his life. But she turned testy in a hurry when he mentioned any of his frustrations with Aaron’s direction for their group. “Does he have you doing anything the next couple of days?” he asked hoping to turn the conversation.

“Yeah,” she answered and let go of the tree to hover in the air. Her marvelous wings pumped slowly making her rise and fall in smooth
swirls. “He wants me to go to Boston with him this afternoon. He’s meeting with an angel from England over the next couple of days. They’re desperately asking for help against that Nido del Diablo group. Xavier is staying here to keep working on Melody. They think she’s close… and Aaron wants somebody to go with him to the meeting so I volunteered.” She’d tacked the last sentence at the end going a hundred miles an hour.

John nodded absently as he watched Denise turn towards a rumble of thunder
in the distance. A meeting with Aaron? He’d never fully felt any jealous tuggings about their leader, but the more he watched him; the more he thought Aaron might have eyes for Denise. But did she have any feelings at all for him?

“I’ve got a Justice Minister
meeting in Chicago tomorrow,” John said casually and noticed her peek quickly over her shoulder for a heartbeat.

“Will that help with anything?” she asked
towards the rolling clouds.

“I’ll be able to make sure they stay on top of the hunt for Charles,” John let go of the branch and drifted in a slow circle. He
caught an updraft so all he had to do was keep his wings extended to stay afloat. “Plus, they think there might be another fallen angel down in Texas trying to put together a group. They seem to be sprouting up all over the place.”

“Who all is
supposed to be at the meeting?” she questioned. Her halo had sizzled into view against the gray backdrop of clouds.

“Jan Hughes
is who told me about it. Pretty sure Ed Young is going to be there as well. I imagine there will be ten or fifteen people at least.”

“They’re both about our age, aren’t they?”

John nodded and felt a big drop of rain splash against his face. “Most of the older Ministers are already in Europe or Australia,” he said.

“I met Jan a couple of times,” Denise offered a little too nonchalantly. “She’s really short, isn’t she?”

John laughed and started a spiraling descent into the trees. “Yeah, she’s not very big. But I wouldn’t want to mess with her. I saw her blast a whole pack of selvo out of the sky with voxis a few months ago. It was cool, but made the fight kind of dull…”

“The Voice of God,” Harold said with a low whistle. “Powerful stuff, but I’ve heard it’s hard to master. And it drains you no matter if it works or not.
Most people don’t attempt it.”

“I’d never try it,” John concede
d. “But it did fry about thirty selvo in the blink of an eye. Still makes the hairs stand up on my arms when I think about it.”

“Well, you have fun with your
Justice Ministers
,” Denise sniffed as they dropped through the soft branches of the redwood trees. “In my opinion, the whole group is borderline useless.”

John shook his head. She’d argued against the Justice Ministers ever since he’d joined. To him, it was only natural
to join a group that was dedicated to eradicating the world of demons and fallen. What could be better?

Before John could form any type of reply, Harold cleared his throat. “I was actually thinking of joining them,” he said looking slightly embarrassed.

“What?” Denise griped. “Why?”

“I agree with John that Aaron and Xavier aren’t taking Charles and the Nightwalkers serious enough,” he called and
zig-zagged around a giant tree as though dodging her scornful glare. “I just feel like the Ministers might be on the right path – in this case. I never felt the calling to join them until now.”

Denise snorted and made shooing motions at both of them when they landed. “You guys go have your little meeting and talk about fighting and killing and whatever else you do,” she said in a huff. “I’ll go make plans with Aaron that will help spread faith around the world.”

She began to storm away. Harold looked from her to John then swung his head in her direction.

“I’ll
meet you at the gate tomorrow morning at 9:00,” John whispered and darted after Denise. “Hey, hold up.”

She
glanced over her shoulder but didn’t pause.

“Denise,” John said and gently grabbed her arm. She didn’t resist as he pulled her to a stop. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” she breathed heavily.

“Something’s obviously wrong.”

She was watching two teenage boys doing their best to whack each other with wooden swords. For a long time, she didn’t turn to John. He waited not knowing if he should reach out to pull her face towards his and kiss her softly on the lips - like he desperately wanted to do. He didn’t care if the boys and a chorus of other angel students could see him. But before he could build the courage, her eyes found his. Tears were on the verge of falling, but a palpable hardness also thrived.

“I’m constantly stuck between you and Aaron and Xavier,” she said gaining strength with each word. “All you want to do is go after demons and fallen angels
and play with your Justice Ministers. And all Aaron and Xavier want to do is concentrate on spreading faith. None of you have a lick of sense. If you did, you’d see that a combination of the two is the answer. Instead, I’m stuck trying to moderate between you. It’s getting old.”

“I… I… what… I mean, sorry,” John said weakly not knowing how to respond to her outburst. “I know that spreading faith is important. I just feel like Aaron and Xavier
don’t care at all about catching Charles so I’m always having to defend that position; or else it won’t get addressed.” His hand went to her cheek and her smooth skin pressed against it.

“I’m tired of taking up for you around them and taking up for them around you,” she said looking into his eyes. The bluish, green in the orbs drew him and made the world shrink. Ever so gently he leaned forward
and kissed her on the lips. She melted into his arms. He wondered if she could feel his heart thumping out her name against the inside of his sternum.

“You know how you could solve this problem?” he whispered quietly
after hugging her for a full minute. Her dark hair was tickling his beard. A smile crept across his face at the sensation.

“How?” she asked without disengaging.

“Always take up for me and never them,” he joked. “Problem solved.”

“Oh, shut up,” she said shaking her head and leaning back enough to
playfully swat him on the shoulder. “Do you ever take anything serious?”

“Only one thing,” he said and his lips found hers again. A wolf whistle rang from the boys who had been
sparring. John didn’t care as he drew Denise close and walked behind the school – away from prying eyes.

Marble arches and glass-plated windows of thousands of colors lined the hallways of the Cathedral in Chicago, Illinois. John and Harold marched through a crowd of people talking in front of the stores and shops of the angel building.

“There were two more angels killed in Spain last week,” a mousy haired woman said in a carrying hiss to a small, wrinkly man. He nodded solemnly and tapped a short scepter on his leg nervously.

“Hasn’t been this bad in a
long time,” the man sighed and a brilliant glow streamed from the scepter. “Not since I was a kid. Trouble over in Europe and Australia… and I heard the number of demons is rising out in California too. I pray that Lucifer’s reach isn’t getting too great.”

“You need a sword?” a gangly teenage boy
jumped in front of John and grabbed his forearm.

“Got one,” John said with a wink.

“It never hurts to have two,” the boy called as John and Harold continued forward. “My dad has a ton of neat stuff in his store. You should check it out.” He pointed behind him at a thin door. The window display had a mannequin fully decked out in chain mail, helmet, greaves, gloves, shield, and boots. Above the door a sign read
Angelic Arsenal.
“Everything in there has been blessed by Michael. The swords are almost as good as those granted by God.”

“We’ll make due,” John laughed and supplied a polite wave. The boy turned immediately to the next passerby.

“Might not hurt to pick up a shield,” Harold chimed in with an interested look through the window.

“Why?” John asked.
“Just use Gabriel’s shield.” He peeked into the weapon store and saw the walls lined with all sorts of swords, axes, and bows. He’d trained for years with each of the weapons, but none of the ones in the shop compared to the gleaming spectacle he’d received from God. His third gift towards becoming a fully-qualified angel. His sword never dulled, or chipped, or cracked. And it never needed to be cleaned.

“Not all of us are good at maintaining Gabriel’s shield during a fight,” Harold supplied wistfully. “Mine falters when I don’t pay attention to it.”

John thumped him on the back with a smile. “Not many people can use the Trumpet of Seraphim as good as you though. And you’ve always been better at Raphael’s healing abilities than I have.”

“
Gabriel’s abilities are my weakest; that’s why I might get a shield,” Harold mused with his brown eyes resting on a square shield with an intricately designed cross mixed in the wood and steel.

“Well… don’t say anything to any of the other Justice Ministers if you do,” John chuckled. “They may not accept you.”

“Whatever,” Harold said quietly and turned his attention to the vaulted ceilings. “I’ve never been to this Cathedral before. It’s way different than Whispering Trees. I like that it’s not a training camp. Don’t have to worry about stepping on the students.”

Ahead of them, a marble statue of Jonah stood tall and proud.
He matched the four pillars behind him so well that John wondered if they’d carved him from a fifth that had stood on the spot where the sculpture now resided.

“I ran from God’s promises and grace,” Jonah said in a deep, gravelly voice. His eyes were wide and frightened under bushy brows.
A tremulous beard bounced up and down as he spoke. “’To flee from the presence of the Lord is a terrible sin. The sailors on the ship could feel my taint. The weight of my sin carried the boat low in the water. When the storm came upon us they cried out in fear. They emptied the boat but still the water crashed over the bows. At last, one of them grabbed me by the collar and the rest helped him toss me over the side.” He paused with his unblemished, white eyes locked on John. “But God granted me mercy in the stomach of a whale. For three days I prayed; then went forth to proclaim the greatness of the Lord. Have faith… for He is strong.”

“He’s talkative,” Harold quipped. “Paul mainly screams at us as we walk by. I’m pretty sure
ol’ Jonah wanted us to pull up a chair.”

“He could probably teach us a thing or two,” John sa
id with a last look at the talking statue. “I know Melody and Christy could use some time in front of him. Discover the penalty for turning against God.”

“I still can’t believe Melody hasn’t talked at all yet,” Harold said thoughtfully. “I’ve tried a couple of times to get her to say something… but she just stared at me.”

“Same for me,” John said. “I do keep thinking I’m getting a vision of her humming to a young boy, but it’s never a complete picture… I didn’t care to try to make an attempt with Christy.” They walked down the hallway then up a spiraling staircase of solid, white stone.  “Jan said it would be up here on the second floor,” John searched and started counting the doors. “Third door on the left.”