Reckoning

EPILOGUE

Lucifer Morningstar stood outside the Saint Athanasius Church and Orphanage and listened for the sounds of Nephilim. There were more of them out there in the world, he knew, children of the dalliances of angels, their birthrights gradually blossoming upon their eighteenth year of life.

Happy birthday to you.

The temperature had dropped considerably in the past hour, and it had started to snow. Lucifer turned his attention to the change in weather, studying the intricacies of each individual flake as it slowly drifted down from the sky. The mouse on his shoulder curiously sniffed at the winter’s rain as it fell, its tiny pink tongue darting from its mouth to lick at the water as it melted upon the jacket of the fallen angel’s dark blue suit.

The summer in the northeast had been brutally warm, and it looked as though the New England winter was going to be just as extreme. But the weather did not bother the first of the fallen angels. He quite enjoyed the seasonal changes. If he hadn’t, he would have suggested that the new Aerie be established in San Diego, California, instead of western Massachusetts.

The fallen angels of Aerie were gone, but the Nephilim remained. They were to be the new protectors of a world rife with paranormal dangers. Verchiel and his Powers had ignored their true purpose, choosing to focus their energies on a personal vendetta rather than the job they had been assigned to do.

As he could sense the emerging Nephilim, so could the fallen angel detect the presence of things that had no right to be upon this world, things that wished Earth and its inhabitants harm. It was now the responsibility of the Nephilim to cleanup after the Powers’ irresponsibility and to keep the world of God’s chosen creations safe from harm.

But there was much they needed to learn before they could take on such an enormous task, much that he, Aaron, and Lorelei would need to teach them.

They had been here for a little more than six months, the new Aerie established within the former roost of Verchiel and his ilk. The Ravenschild Estates had quite simply become too large for their lesser number. With the fallen angels gone, this was a new time for the Nephilim, a new history waiting to be forged for them as individuals, rather than victims of a genocide perpetrated by Verchiel and his host.

As for himself, Lucifer looked upon this as yet another test from his most Holy Father above. He would help to train those who would protect God’s human flock, and finally, hopefully, achieve absolution for his most heinous sin.

The snow now fell harder, a whipping wind creating swirling vortexes of white that danced around the expanse of unkempt lawn in front of him. He could sense the small animals that lived in the overgrowth around the church and orphanage, hunkered deep within their burrows, primitive instincts telling them that this would be the first major storm of winter, that soon everything would be covered in a cold blanket of icy white.

And from this season of death there would be rebirth.

All Lucifer wanted was a chance to apologize to his Father, as he had to the brothers that had sworn to him their allegiance in Heaven so very long ago. But he knew that opportunity had to be earned, and would come at a heavy cost indeed.

The mouse on his shoulder whispered in his ear. It was cold and wanted to go inside. Lucifer obliged his tiny friend, taking him indoors and out of the storm. After all, there was still much to be done to prepare the Nephilim for the tasks before them.

He thought one more time of his brethren, basking again in the glorious radiance of the Almighty, and longed for the day that he, too, would be allowed to experience the Blessed Majesty once more. Was that a hint of envy he felt growing in the deep inner darkness of his psyche? Quickly he squelched it before it had a chance to take root, before it could do any harm. The first of the fallen had had more than his fill of jealousy’s bitter fruit.

The price of forgiveness was indeed a costly one, but it was an amount that Lucifer Morningstar was willing to pay.

Aaron and Gabriel trudged through the quickly accumulating snow in search of the newest of Aerie’s citizens.

The boy had lived with them for a day over two weeks. His name was Jeremy Fox, and he’d come from London, England. Aaron had found him living on the streets of the great, old city, begging for change and eating from Dumpsters. To the casual passerby he appeared to be just another sad example of a mental health system in desperate need of an overhaul—muttering and crying out, talking to himself as he wandered the streets of England’s largest city. He hadn’t been difficult to locate; the power of the Nephilim was strong inside him, and it practically cried out to be found.

Now Aaron found the youth behind the abandoned school, in the snow-covered playground. He was sitting atop the monkey bars, sneakered feet dangling, the top of his sandy blond head and shoulders covered with collecting snow. He had not been adjusting well, and Lorelei was worried.

“Hey,” Aaron said as he walked closer.

“Hey,” Gabriel repeated, not wanting to be left out of anything.

The youth remained silent, as if attempting to tune out the strange world in which he had come to live. Aaron could sympathize; it hadn’t been all that long since he was in the very same frame of mind.

It had been Lorelei who convinced the youth to listen to the story told by the two crazy Americans who seemed to appear from out of nowhere, a fantastic tale about angels having relationships with human women and the children that were born as a result. Jeremy had looked at them as if they were out of their minds, and Aaron was certain that he was trying to decide whether they were in fact real or just manifestations of the insanity that had taken hold of him since his eighteenth birthday. They had told him that they could help, and Aaron had watched a look of cautious hope fill the boy’s eyes.

Taking that as a yes, not giving him a chance to refuse, the Nephilim savior had taken the troubled youth within the confines of his wings of shiny black and had transported him back to the safety of Aerie.

He had been here since, but did not seem to be adapting to his new life, clinging to his humanity, refusing to accept the reality of what he was becoming.

“Lorelei’s worried about you,” Aaron said, looking up at the boy sitting on the top rung of the monkey bars. “She thought I should find you—just in case you needed to talk or something.”

Gabriel sniffed around the various pieces of playground equipment, his nose melting furrows in the two inches of snow that had already fallen.

The wind suddenly whipped up, causing the powdery snow to drift, making it seem that more of the white stuff had fallen in some areas than in others. The winter wind had a bite to it, but it didn’t bother Aaron as it once had. Just another perk of being Nephilim, he thought. Hot or cold, it was all the same to them, perfectly adaptable to any climate upon the planet.

Jeremy remained unresponsive, immobile upon his metal perch.

“Guess not,” Aaron said, putting his hands inside the pockets of his spring jacket. “Well, if you should need to, you know where I…”

The boy turned to look at him, the snow atop his head sloughing off to fall to the ground below his dangling feet. “They say that you’re some kind of bloody savior,” he said, his accent thick and full of repressed emotion. “What’s that like, then?”

It was something Aaron tried not to think about very often. He knew that he had a job to do, a purpose and a destiny. But the moniker of savior was one that he did not wear comfortably.

Aaron came closer to the jungle gym. “Don’t believe everything you hear,” he said, casually taking hold of one of the horizontal pipes in both hands. “There’s very little difference between me and you,” he told the boy. “It wasn’t too long ago that I was thinking the same thoughts you are right now.”

Jeremy’s features grew angry, and he let himself drop from his seat to the snow-covered ground. He came at Aaron then, chest puffed out, eyes wild. The older Nephilim held his ground.

“And what am I thinking?” Jeremy asked in a hiss. “Use your angel powers and tell me what’s going on inside my bloody head, mate.”

Gabriel had come to stand by Aaron, his nose covered in snow from his explorations beneath the cold, winter covering. “You shouldn’t talk to Aaron that way,” the dog warned, hackles of fur rising around his neck. “He’s just trying to help.”

Aaron reached down and thumbed the dog’s side in assurance. “It’s okay, Gabe,” he said. “Jeremy and I are just talking. He’s a little upset.”

The Lab grumbled something and then became distracted by a squirrel, and he bounded off in pursuit of the animal with an excited bark.

“You want me to tell you what’s going on in your head?” Aaron asked the new Nephilim. “You’re thinking that the world has become insane, that everything you’ve known, everything you’ve taken for granted all your life, has been flipped upside-down since your last birthday.” Aaron paused. “How am I doing so far?”

Jeremy seethed with an inner rage that Aaron was all too familiar with. “You don’t know anything,” the boy growled, sparks of heavenly fire shooting wildly from his fingertips.

“You know how I know this?” Aaron asked. “Because I thought the exact same things when it was happening to me, when the power that was inside me—something that I didn’t want or ask for—decided to take my normal life away from me.” Aaron placed one of his own hands upon his chest, his gaze never leaving Jeremy’s. “I thought the exact same things.”

The boy’s anger seemed to drain away, as if he were suddenly no longer strong enough to hold on to it. It slipped away from him, and he seemed to diminish in size, the outrage he was feeling over what his life had become seemingly all that was sustaining him. “I don’t know how much longer I can fight it,” Jeremy said pathetically, the snow melting upon his face, mixing freely with the warm tears that now fell from his eyes. “I can feel it inside me—clawing to get out.”

“You don’t have to fight it,” Aaron told him. “That’s why you’re here: to learn about what you truly are—to learn about your destiny.”

The boy chuckled then, wiping away the moisture from his face and snuffling. “Destiny?” he asked. “Didn’t know that I had one of those.”

“Bet there’s a lot you don’t know about yourself,” Aaron said. “Let us teach you.”

Sometimes it wore on him.

Aaron scooped up a handful of the fresh snow and began to make a snowball. “Here it comes,” he warned. The last of the snowfall had been mixed with rain, creating a slushy mix perfect for snowballs.

Across the expanse of front lawn, Gabriel crouched. “I’m ready,” he growled.

Most of the time these days, Aaron felt like Gabriel at that moment, tensed, ready to confront the latest obstacle head on.

He let the snowball fly, and as it fell, Gabriel leaped up into the air to capture it in his mouth. “Good catch, boy,” Aaron said, clapping his hands and praising the animal for his skills.

Gabriel proceeded to eat the snowball, crunching upon the firmly packed snow, pieces falling from the sides of his mouth as he chewed. “Make another one,” the Labrador urged between chews.

It was so easy to get caught up in the flow of it, to become the ultimate leader, the weight of the world upon his shoulders. He needed moments like this to remind himself that there was more to life than being the leader of the Nephilim.

Gabriel had finished his icy snack and was waiting for the next, tail wagging happily. “C’mon, Aaron,” the dog urged. “Throw another one.”

He squatted down and grabbed some more of the wet white stuff. “You’ll never be able to catch this one,” he said in mock warning, making his best friend all the more excited.

Aaron knew that his was a great responsibility, that the protection of the world had been placed in his hands and the hands of others like him. It was up to him to make sure that they were ready for this chore, a daunting task, yes, but one that he was more than capable of performing.

“Here it comes,” he warned the animal, and tossed the ball of snow as hard as he could up into the air in an arc, watching as it began its descent. Gabriel bounded across the snow in pursuit, his eyes upon the plummeting prize.

Was it the life that he would have chosen for himself? No, not a chance, but he no longer resented the fate that had been unceremoniously thrust upon him. It was his destiny, and he had learned to accept it as that.

Gabriel returned to him, snowball clutched in his mouth, and dropped it at his feet.

“What, that one didn’t taste so good?” he asked the dog.

“I’m full,” Gabriel said, deciding to lie down in the snow and roll upon his back. Aaron laughed at his dog’s antics, kicking snow onto the animal’s pink exposed belly.

They both felt it in the air, a familiar disruption that foretold of a Nephilim’s arrival, and recognized it as someone special.

“She’s coming,” Gabriel said excitedly as he shot to his feet, shaking snow from his fur as Aaron scanned the open space before him for signs of her arrival.

No more than five feet away the air began to shimmer and ripple, a darker patch beginning to form at its center. Gabriel began to bark happily, tail wagging like mad. Aaron sometimes wondered who loved her more.

Vilma Santiago emerged from the ether, her downy white wings the color of freshly fallen snow parting the substance of space around her. It was amazing how far she’d advanced in such a short period of time. She, too, had come to accept her heritage, embracing the angelic nature inside her.

Gabriel could barely contain himself, galloping through the snow to see her. “Vilma’s here!” he said over and over again, and she knelt down to accept his excited affections. She seemed just as happy to see him.

It had been a few days since they’d last seen each other, what with getting ready to start classes at a nearby college in spring and gradually getting her aunt and uncle to accept the fact that she was going away to school. Vilma Santiago was taking control of her life, and of that Aaron was very proud.

Not long after Aerie’s fallen had been forgiven, she had returned to Lynn, to her aunt and uncle. He guessed that it had been difficult, their relationship now strained by her abrupt departure from their home, but they had come to begrudgingly accept her explanation of needing some time away to find herself. Aaron chuckled with the thought. She’d certainly done that.

Vilma finished showering the excited Labrador with affection and proceeded toward Aaron, a sly smile upon her face. He watched as her beautiful wings receded on her back, only the slightest expression of discomfort on her features.

“I missed you,” she said, leaning forward to plant a big kiss upon his lips.

He met her halfway, his own lips eagerly pressing against hers. The two embraced, and he was positive that there wasn’t anything that felt better than having her in his arms. If there was, he didn’t remember it.

Upon returning to Lynn, she had contacted the superintendent of schools and had worked with him and her teachers to make up the finals and projects that she had missed with her sudden absence. In no time she had completed the necessary requirements and had received her high school diploma with honors, albeit without the pomp and circumstance of a graduation ceremony, but Vilma had what she needed to continue her dream of a college degree.

Maybe I’ll complete my own high school requirements someday, he thought as he held the young woman that he loved and respected so much. But if he didn’t, that would be okay as well, for he was certain that life had other things in store for him.

Gabriel attempted to squeeze his blocky head in between their embrace. “Hi, remember me?” the dog asked, often as ravenously hungry for affection as he was for food.

Vilma laughed, a light airy sound that Aaron had learned to adore, and bent down to hug the animal as well. “How could we ever forget you, Gabriel?” she asked in mock horror.

“I know,” the Labrador responded, accepting her additional attentions. “I am pretty special.”

“That you are, my friend,” Aaron said as he took Vilma’s hand in his and began to lead her toward their new home within the old orphanage.

“And how is everything here?” she asked, walking by his side through the snow.

“Fine,” he answered her, “especially now that you’re here.” And he gave her hand a gentle squeeze to stress how glad he was to be with her.

Vilma responded in kind with a smile that was pure magick. He doubted that Lorelei could summon anything quite as powerful.

Aaron needed moments like this, for it helped him to put it all in perspective.

“When are you two going to have babies?” Gabriel suddenly chimed in, a look of seriousness upon his canine features.

They were completely taken aback by the question, and Aaron felt a flush of embarrassment blossom upon his cheeks. Vilma fared a little better than he, covering her mouth to stifle a laugh. Gabriel did not care to be laughed at. The dog waited for his answer. She had no idea what to make of the question, but Aaron suspected that it had something to do with what the last of the Malakim had said to him before he had been taken by Verchiel.

“May I be the first to say that your children will be absolutely magnificent,” the angel sorcerer had said in that strange place between worlds.

Lehash had said that the Malakim had the ability to look into the future, and had seen that he and Vilma had children—magnificent children. Aaron had never bothered to share this information, not wanting to pressure her in their relationship in any way.

“Where did that come from?” Vilma asked the dog.

“Just curious,” Gabriel answered. “I’m certain that they would be magnificent.”

Aaron felt her gaze upon him as they reached the entrance that would take them inside the building.

“And what do you think, Mr. Corbet?” she asked as he reached out to pull open the door. “Would they?”

He held the door against his back, allowing them to enter before him. Vilma waited just inside, arms crossed, as he let the door slam shut behind him.

“Well?” she chided.

“Yes,” he told her, a smile upon his face that he couldn’t control. When they decided to take that next step, to marry and eventually have children, he knew that it would be the most amazing thing in his life. To have a family with her was something to look forward to.

Something for the future.

“Yes, they will most certainly be magnificent,” he told her.

Until then, there was still so very much that needed to be done.