Even Angels Fall (Book 3)

Sable

Apparently, I shouldn’t be impressed about the extravagance I’m surrounded by or the amount of money Heinrich so carelessly throws away. No one else seems to be overwhelmed by the lavish Villa we occupy.

For the prophets that will save the world, it’s too much.

After landing at the Agadir-Al Massira Airport in Morroco three days ago, we arrived here in the Sofitel Agadir Royal Bay Resort. It is a remarkable sight, one I would have never been blessed to see if I hadn’t been dubbed a Prophet. Security is Heinrich’s main goal and he surrounds the three of us with constant Angel and human supervision.

I glance at Lexie as she munches on her fruit. My eyes shift over to Josh sleeping on the massive bed. He is a dwarf on a giant’s mattress. So far the collection of people to lead the human race into war with Hell is dismal at best.

I take a seat beside Lexie. She hands me a grapefruit she’s plucked from the bowl beside her. I wave my hand. I’m pretty hungry but the food here isn’t quite my taste. I’m more of a pizza, hamburger kind of guy. Couscous doesn’t really add up to New York style hot dogs.

Met cackles adoringly, gratefully accepting the grapefruit from Lexie’s small hand. “To enrich one’s belly is to enrich one’s mind.”

I glare evilly, “It’s an invasion of privacy when you read my thoughts, you know. It ain’t right.”

He cackles, “Your accent is absolutely wonderful. What is it called?”

“Called? I’m from Queens--”

“Queens?” Met’s fascinated. “I shall learn of these people. Your heritage is important.”

I scoff, falling back in my seat watching as he steps away. He is such a simple man and yet I know there’s so much more I’m not seeing. There wouldn’t be so many Angels respecting him if there wasn’t. Heinrich calls him ‘your grace’. He’s someone of importance and I mean to find out what.

A human servant strolls in speaking Arabic and Met happily responds and goes off with him, leaving us alone. I slouch in my chair. So often we are left behind and I’m tired of it.

“Five six, Sable.” Lexie giggles in her number speak. “He said the others had arrived and were waiting in the foyer.”

I spin my attention on her, “You know how to speak Arabic?”

“Americans ignore the rest of the world. But the rest of the world likes to learn about each other. I know several languages.”

“Will you teach me?”

Heinrich enters our bedroom with his hands behind his back, looking down his nose at us. “Teach you what?”

“I want to learn how to speak Arabic.”

He tightens his back with surprise. “I believe that is the smartest thing to come out of your daft mouth. She needn’t teach you. There is a more advanced way to enter your mind and teach you. It requires discipline.” His gaze flitters over me. “Though American, it shouldn’t take too long. The war might be over.”

I snap to my feet, stepping toward him. “I’ve been a wrestler since I was ten years old, Heinrich. I could pin you to the floor and break your arm in six different places. I know discipline. I haven’t punched you in the face yet, have I?”

A smirk swells on his lips. “You are a master of self-control.”

The door in the outer room shuts and both of us step away from each other like two little kids afraid of their parents. Met walks in jovial and full of laughter, “I want you to meet someone. Sable, come here.”

Swallowing my temper and forcing a ‘fake as fuck’ smile, I go to Met as two people come through the doorway. I notice instantly they are Pure Souls like Lexie, Josh, and I. As I stare at them deeper, I can see the small additions to each of their Souls.

“You’re. You’re Prophets?”

Next to Met, the first one is a short, chubby woman in her late fifties. She seems terrified to be standing here but from somewhere her courage gathers and her head lifts itself. She reaches out a daring hand even as it trembles. “I’m Melissa Santiago.” I grasp her hand and so quickly, she backs away, losing all of her nerve.

Next to her, I meet Inoue Toue. He is quiet and reserved as he takes a seat beside Lexie. The two in comparison are like salt and pepper. They are complete opposite in looks and in personality, it makes me laugh as she attempts to talk to him. He remains docile and unperturbed.

“I thought we were going to gather them together?” I ask Met as Melissa sets off to change.

“We ran out of time. While you were sleeping, I went and woke the others.”

“What about Etsay? The main reason we’re here?”

“I will need your help for him. He is a tough case, I’m afraid. Now please, make them feel at home. I must talk to Heinrich about the security and make sure this place is still safe.”

Safe from what? I understand the Darkness wants us but I don’t know what the Darkness is? What does it look like? What can it do? How does it kill? If it comes, how dangerous is it really?

I feel like a child when it comes to such a subject. I am so ignorant of it that I can’t even begin to fathom or comprehend it. It’s my enemy and I don’t even know why I hate it.

--

“Na’am”

The computer replies, “Very good. Na’am means Yes.”

“Na’am.” I repeat.

“Now say the word, La’a.”

“La’a.”

“That was great. La’a means No.”

“La’a.”

I look over toward the multiple doors of the bedrooms. I’m alone in our villa. Everyone is asleep, it’s something I should be doing but I’m still on New York time. If I wasn’t an insomniac before this adventure began, I’m definitely one now.

I toss the IPad on the couch and stretch as I sit up. It’s so quiet here. There isn’t a single car horn or radio blaring. It’s as if the world shut off its TV set. I miss my home more than I ever thought I would. I miss being a part of humanity. I want to mingle with people. I want to watch them as I used to on the subway train. I want to listen to the wail of a baby and laugh as people curse under their breath. More importantly, I just want to be a part of something.

I know I’m supposed to be on my way to saving the world but I’ve really only felt like I’ve been avoiding it. We aren’t doing anything but running. Running in style but still, simply running.

I walk onto the terrace and walk beside the glistening pool. My toes trace across the top sending ripples along and I observe as they crash into the far wall. Such a light touch and I’ve caused a ripple. I actually did something today.

“Sable.”

Looking up, Met and Heinrich are around the corner sitting at a large buffet table. I hadn’t known they were still out here. I glance back inside wondering why I thought they were asleep.

As I join them I notice a map on the table. Little pins lay in random areas over certain locations. “What’s this?”

Heinrich instantly replies, “Nothing.”

Met calmly retorts, “We were deciding the best location to place you.”

“We’re moving again?”

Heinrich bristles and sits back, keeping quiet while Met continues to answer my questions. “Not yet. We are heading south to retrieve the final Prophet but after that. We want you and Joshua at the most pivotal point in the war.”

“What about Lexie?”

“She will have her own location. We were thinking of Singapore for Lexie. She knows Chinese.”

How many languages can that girl possibly know?

“Nine.” Met murmurs, taking a sip of his tea. I narrow my eyes and he attempts to ignore it.

I take a seat at the table, leaning over the map. Heinrich is obviously annoyed but everything I do bothers him so I stopped caring.

“Where is Melissa and Inoue going to go?”

“Melissa will go to New York and Inoue will go to Japan. The Gloria Patri has agreed to lend us its services.”

“What’s the Gloria Patri?”

“They are a superior race of Angels, well trained in battle.”

“Why aren’t they protecting us now?”

Heinrich sits up, “Must you question everything?”

“It is the only way I get answers. So yeah.”

Met chuckles, finding our bickering adorable.

“The Gloria Patri is a self-serving organization. Their main goal is to rid Earth of all malfeasance. They rarely follow any order outside their regime and will do so only if they see it beneficial to their main objective. Up until now, it hasn’t been a requirement for you to survive. I however have been able to speak with them. They understand your importance. But unfortunately there is a limited number. Inoue and Melissa will have their protection. Heinrich will go with Lexie.”

I attempt a sad face, “Aww you’re leaving?”

Met chuckles deep in his throat, struggling to hide his laughter.

Heinrich can only glower, “The feeling is mutual, my dear sir. I will not, however, miss the tenor of your diction.”

Moving my gaze back to Met, “Who’ll protect us?”

Met wickedly grins. “It will just be you, Joshua, and I. Men on a grand adventure through the wilderness!” He excitedly bubbles.

Why do I lack such enthusiasm?

“Sir?” A soldier gains our quick attention. “There is an Elder, sir.”

Heinrich panics. “Did those young schwachsinniger not understand a word I said? They must have given away our position.”

The soldier nervously cuts him off, “He claims he comes on Erelim Elder Isis’ name.”

Met pats Heinrich’s hand, “Let it be, Polly. It’s Isis. She will know where I am at all times. The Angels that own this hotel will keep their word.”

Heinrich glances at me, surely because of that insane nickname. “You trust too eagerly, sir.” Met waves to the soldier nonetheless.

A bald black man apprehensively makes his way in. Tattoos cover his skin, naked woman gyrating on bibles and crosses. He’s not what I’d expect from an Elder Angel. Piercings ride along his entire ear lobe and many decorate his brow and lip. He looks dangerous almost.

His gaze however is anything but fearsome. Upon meeting Met’s face, his features widen and there is nothing but awe and adoration. He barely makes it to Met’s chair before he drops upon his knees.

The Elder mutters with his face toward the ground, “Your Grand Ex--”

“Now, now,” Met heaves from his chair and the man looks up in awe. Met holds out a hand, “Come to your feet, sir, we are all equals here, aren’t we?” The Elder doesn’t understand. He doesn’t take the offered hand. Met reaches down gripping his bicep and he hurries to put his feet upon the floor.

“As you will it, your grace.”

Met glances at me before he directs the person back the way he came, “Let us speak privately.”

I fasten to my feet, “No.” The two of them turn around, surprised. Met more amused than the Elder beside him. Heinrich reaches to shut me up but I pull away. “I deserve to know what’s going on. I’m tired of being kept in the dark. Lexie, Josh, and I, we left everything behind. We’re following all of your stupid orders and doing everything you’re telling us to and you expect only obedience. Well, I’m sorry but I’m human and we don’t work like that. I want something in return. Include me. If only me then fine but do it. Answer my damned questions and tell me, who are you?”

The new arrival takes the initiative. He glares openly stepping up to me, “How dare you, you impudent juvenile. You deserve not the air you breathe let alone the presence you stand in. Drop upon your knees and kiss the ground you stand on, for you stand in the presence of Heaven’s Supreme Chancellor, Metatron.”

I don’t move. How can I respond to that decree? This entire time I’ve been treating Met as an old man that I can get rid of and this whole time, he’s second to only God himself? My sins keep growing, don’t they?

Met slaps a hand upon the Elder. “And you, Matthias, God has blessed your Soul. For you stand before the leader of the Human Prophets. Will you show your reverence?”

Matthias glances back at Met, unclenching his teeth before he nods as duty demands. He fully faces me and bows his head, pressing his fingertips to his forehead, “Sire. It’s an honor.”

How quickly his tone has changed. It however alters nothing. He doesn’t like me and I don’t care much for him either. I guess we got off on a bad foot.

“Let’s sit.” Met decides. He motions for me as well but now I’m not too sure. It was fine when he was just a regular Angel with skilled talents. I could even grasp the fact that he was probably an Erelim but to think of him as God’s Second, puts me so far down the totem pole, I don’t belong anywhere near his person.

Who the hell do I think I am? Just because I’m a Prophet doesn’t mean I get any special privileges. I’m still a human. I’m the rotting bacteria at the bottom of the cesspool. There is no lower level than that.

The conversation is lax. They speak of common things, stupid inconsequential things. Matthias constantly looks at me. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to bring up anything of importance with me here. It doesn’t matter. I’m not going to understand it anyway.

Matthias finally decides to delve into the pressing matters. “One of the reasons I’ve come will be upsetting to you. Isis could not face you but I felt you needed to know what was happening. Her actions at the base have hurt too much. There has been enough talk and too many deserters because of the event. Therefore she willingly passed on the role to Lieutenant General Tee.”

I play with my piercing, watching Met for his reaction. Isis is one of the five Erelim on Earth. How could she leave the army? What could have happened that was so drastic?

Met slowly begins to nod his head, “You will let her know I hold no ill will. Is she well?”

Matthias falters in his reply, “It is difficult to say, your grace. She keeps everything tight to her heart.”

“Yes. This I know well. You chose a very challenging woman to love, Matthias. I’m afraid it will only bring you pain. Love her yes, but as any wise man, do it from afar.” He smiles softly gaining Matthias’ swift adoration.

“I plan to assist in making the NYC into a forerunner for the war. I have nearly ninety percent of the Elders behind me. They wish to aid you and your rule.”

Met seems confused and leans slightly away. “Is this Isis’ decree?”

So suddenly, Matthias’ tranquility alters and nervousness arises. “It is difficult to understand what she plans, your grace. She has her own rules. The Elders of the NYC are no longer happy with her decisions.”

Met rises to his feet, a smile ever so pleasant on his lips. “I am happy to have spoken with you. Please be careful in your departure, we hide precious Souls here.” He steps away from the table and turns his back, looking up at the night sky.

The dismissal is heartbreaking for Matthias. His emotions are so easily read. It builds pity in me. For an Elder to reveal so much, I can’t imagine how deeply he hurts.

Matthias bows and speeds away if only to save his dignity.

Heinrich is tactless when it comes to compassion. He bulldozes through the silence. “I am sorry for Isis, your grace but without her, we have no ruler. If Ariel and Tymician are gone, if Dane Monte does not show; what are we to do? Who will lead them? It means only one thing. You must show yourself. Reveal to the world you’re here. They will flock to you in hoards and the war will become real.”

Heinrich rushes to Met’s side, nearly begging. “It is all rumor to them now. Simple gossip. Lucius has made them immune. So many times he cried total annihilation. And it never happened.”

“Because Tymician stopped him. Do you see, Polly, Tymician was his conscience? It is impossible to keep one’s humanity in the fouls of Hell, but Tymician kept it whole for him.”

“Tymician is dead, your grace. That is something you must overcome. You wait for a sign. You wait for him to rise from the ashes but he is gone. It is time you intervene. There is no one else.”

Met only smiles.

“What do you fear, your grace?” Heinrich whispers desperately. “Help me understand so that I do not burden you with my foolishness.”

Met comes towards me, “Sable, get some sleep. In the morning, we shall find our last Prophet.”

--

It’s difficult on Lexie saying goodbye and I find it harder yet on me. I hadn’t known I would be separating from her and so soon. I was beginning to enjoy her company and I think I even began understanding the basic form of her numbers.

I allow her to hug me. It’s not so bad letting good people into my personal space every once in a while.

With Josh stretched in the back seat, comfortable and unbothered, I sit beside Met as he hops in the driver’s seat. He takes one look at me and goes, “So, how do you start this thing?”

Needless to say, we switch seats.

One would think that would be the worst of it but when I ask for directions, his response is, “South.”

I attempt to ask in a different way, “What street do I turn onto?”

He points in the direction that South heads, “That one.”

“You’ve got no idea. We’re going to get lost in the middle of Morocco. Not a great place to get lost. Give me the phone, I’m calling Heinrich.”

“I don’t have one.”

I slam on the brakes. Josh’s body bounces against the seats but thankfully rolls back into place. “That’s great, now what are we gonna do?”

“Go South.”

“No, Met! We’re not going South. We’re going back to the Hotel. There’s something called civilization that stands in our way. We can’t just go South. Do you understand?”

“I understand. You are upset with me because I am not knowledgeable to this generation. I haven’t been on Earth in two thousand years. But if you trust in me, as I trust in you, and you drive as well as you can manage in the direction I require, we will arrive at our destination.”

Does anything upset him? How can he always stay so calm? I want to be like that. I want to set an example for the ones that I lead in the future. I want to learn how to trust not only others but myself. Trust is such a delicate and terrible emotion. It’s near impossible for me.

I make the turn he orders and we continue on in silence for a while before I break it. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”

“I didn’t want you to feel inferior. You are the leader of the Prophets, Sable. You are by all right, a greater being than myself. You will save this planet. Something that I have never done.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you, or done any of the other things--”

“No. We are friends. Do you know how rare it is for me to have a friend? I did not want to lose it. Ignorance can sometimes be a grand thing, don’t you think? Perhaps it is the reason I am not quick to learn of the last two thousand years. English was odd enough to apprehend.”

I chuckle. “Nothing exciting happened anyway. A few wars. Nature killing a bunch of people. Same old, same old. Guess we got electricity. And cars. And whole bunch of stuff we don’t really need.”

“I’ve noticed.” He grins. “Cell phones are fantastic devices however. Do they work by magic?”

It takes a little over an hour to get where Met says Etsay is. I’m a skeptic as we turn onto an off road, dirt path. This is not only the middle of nowhere but it’s dangerously the middle of the nowhere. Africa is known for its clans and factions of violent human regimes and though I’m not particularly savvy on their general whereabouts through African terrain, I am particularly knowledgeable about Etsay’s involvement in one notorious group.

He is an influential leader in one of the most fearsome human clans in the world, the Mungiki. An African clan that ‘protects’ the rights of the people but bleeds them dry by extorting money in every way they possibly can. Then they seem to have no problem resorting to violence if insulted in any way, shape, or form. They hide from the cities and its forming governments, allowing it to appear stable and in control but the Mungiki pulls the strings from the shadows, abducting and killing those that do not comply with its wishes.

He is apparently far from home. The Mungiki is stationed in Kenya. What’s he’s doing so far out here?

I’ve study his picture and his background. I constantly question how this murderer can be a man of God. I wonder how many men, women, and children he has killed in cold blood. How many deaths has he ordered others to do for him?

Met speaks suddenly gazing out the window, “To be a Prophet, one must expel judgment.” He looks at me speculatively. “Do you judge those different from you, Sable? Who are you? We are Light. We are equal. To hate leads only to the Darkness. Open the mind, release such common thoughts. Grow into the man you must be.”

Guilt washes over me. I adjust my seat, hoping my face isn’t red from embarrassment. “Stop reading my mind.”

“Stop allowing me.” He grins wickedly.

Met holds up a hand and I slowly bring the car to a stop. I’ve really no choice. There is a barrage of people in front of us, forming a tight line. Various ages and heights with two things in common: they are all male and they all have rifles cocked and ready in their hands.

Met heaves, “We’re here,” he climbs out of the car as if there is nothing to fear. I panic and follow after him, holding my hands high in the air.

“Met, get back in the car.”

He ignores me, smiling lovingly, as if the crowd is there simply to greet him with adoration. He is so foolish to human maliciousness.

I hear a boisterous voice, deep and foreign over the crowd. He speaks Swahili. It seems as if I’m the only one of the Prophets that’s not bi-lingual. Whatever he says parts the group of men. Some hesitate to stand down while the little ones scamper off to the side.

Through the hole they create, I catch my first sight of Etsay, the last human Prophet.

Six foot, black like the night, and wearing grey pants and an open white button shirt; the compact muscle glitters from sweat in the morning African sunlight. There are numerous scars, white and thick bubbling over his skin in disarray. A gun sways at his hip. He flicks the cigarette he was smoking to the side and his glaring eyes catches mine before they land specifically on Met.

My attention is waning. Over his shoulder, flashes of light catch my eye. I squint attempting to concentrate on it but the specks move and sway; it’s hard to pinpoint what they are exactly. And then, just as I’m about to give up, something changes. The light stills and stretches. A figure formulates. A translucent Soul stands beside him as thick and whole as any real person. It looks at me with dark, foreboding eyes, as if daring me to come closer.

“What is it?” I murmur.

“His guardian Angel. Though they flit about, he has twenty-three of them. None as strong and corporal as Pakel but powerful in their own right. Can you see them?”

I nod vaguely.

Etsay stands before us, bored. “Let me guess.” He begins in English with a thick accent; I listen hard to understand him. “You want help in your war.”

“My war?” I question baffled.

Etsay’s eyes catch mine. “God’s War.” He rectifies. His giant hand points to Met. “His War.” He rests his arms in the sling of his gun, using it as an arm rest. The sight of it disturbs me.

Etsay must be a seer. It’s the only way for him to know that Met is an Angel. He can see our Light. But that doesn’t explain his knowledge about why we are here.

“How do you know about the war?”

Met answers perceptively. “Someone has already gotten to him. A Fallen I presume from the obvious discourse you feel.”

Etsay gives only a smug smile.

I scoff. “How could anyone know you’d be a prophet?”

He shrugs to his entourage of Souls. “Lucky guess.”

Adjusting a cuff on his sleeve, Met asks, “You have already made up your mind then?”

My eyes slide to the back of his head in bafflement. He can’t possibly be ready to give in so easily. Without him, there would be only five of us. Five to round enough humans to fight against thousands of Demons that are bound to come through the Dust. Each of us hold a significant amount of importance that losing just one, could cost us the survival of the human race. Even if I don’t agree that this guy is worth the fight.

“I have.”

Speechless and wide-eyed my gaze snaps to Etsay. He only has his attention on Met, daringly with selfish humor on his lips as if none of this has to do with him. He is free of guilt and blame.

“And if I said that the fate of the world depends on you?”

“I would say, if God can turn Her back. So can I.” He bows his head and then promptly spins on his heel and bares his back to us, strutting away.

Outrage spurs in my feet and I set off after him but Met snatches my arm. “His guardians are powerful. You cannot touch him, Sable.”

“We can’t just let him go! We need him!”

He concedes, looking around at the people that stand and watch us argue. I highly doubt they understand any of it but they keep their pistols on us just in case we make some random movement. “We do. But we need a different strategy.”

Met motions back to the car and I speedily jump into my seat and when Met shuts the door to his side, I burst out, “Show yourself.”

His blue eyes fasten upon me.

“Heinrich says it will bring all the Angels to your feet. Maybe that’s what Etsay needs to see.”

A phone rings, a Spanish song, loud and piercing, cutting through the highly emotional situation and Joshua jolts up from his long nap, flinging his head around this way and that before searching the many pockets of his fur coat and grasping the cellphone. He flips it open, half-sleep. “Hola? ¿qué pasa? ”

His eyes find me and he cracks a bright grin.