The Angel Side Read online

  I had always been the one to chase Etta down, fight for her attention, and beg for forgiveness. It had been exhausting work but worth doing. Now it was her turn to chase me, to prove her love for me. If she wanted me back, she’d have to fight.

  “I couldn’t take it anymore. I’m done, and I’m done talking about it. We better get going, or we’ll miss your party.” I snipped, shutting down the topic before Gabriel had a chance to change my mind.

  ****

  No sooner had I appeared in our apartment, Gabriel bum rushed me into the wall, wrapping his arms around my neck and legs around my waist. As I readied to take defensive action against his assault, Gabriel pressed his sloppy wet lips against my cheek.

  “I’m getting married. I’m getting married.” Gabriel repeated, jumping off of me then bouncing up and down as if he were a rubber ball.

  “Whoa, slow down, Tigger. You’re not getting married until tomorrow. Save the excitement for Amy.” I chuckled.

  “Tigger?” Gabriel tilted his head, perplexed by my Winnie the Pooh reference.

  “It’s a cartoon tiger who hops on its tail. Man, we need to educate you in the ways of couch potatoing.”

  “But tigers don’t hop on their tails? Doesn’t matter. The guys will be here any minute. Uriel has some awesome stuff planned. He’s been studying human marital rituals.”

  “I don’t think we’ll be doing anything he’s found in his research.”

  “Oh, come on. We’re sort of human. I mean, our wives are. We should do some human stuff.”

  I hadn’t been sure what the guys planned. They kept me out of the loop to ensure Gabriel didn’t wrestle the truth from me. I doubted they would opt for the usual strip club hopping most human males went for, but with our rowdy group, you never knew what was in store. I simply didn’t know if Gabriel even knew it might be an option this evening. So, in fun, I thought I’d bring it up and watch his reaction.

  “You want to go watch naked women dance?”

  “What? No. Why on earth would we do that?” Gabriel stepped back, appalled I would even consider the idea.

  “It’s what guys do the night before their wedding.”

  “Why in the world would they do such a thing? I mean they’re getting ready to wed the woman of their dreams. They are one night away from seeing all the glory she has to offer. Why go look at others?”

  “Oh, dear Brother. So seasoned and yet so inexperienced.” I said, jerking him into a headlock. “Men don’t see women as we do. Once they’ve seen one woman naked, they wish to see them all naked. I mean, you have seen a naked woman, haven’t you?” I continued as I gave Gabriel a noogie.

  “No! I never—how dare you even imply I would ever—”offended by my question, Gabriel twisted out of my hold and gave me a hard shove.

  “Probably for the best. You wouldn’t know what to do with one anyway.” I joked.

  Gabriel straightened and locked his posture, fixing his purple dress shirt. “I know what to do, okay. Father already explained to me how tomorrow night is going to work.”

  It hadn’t been what I was talking about, but Gabriel brought up an interesting point. I knew how wedding nights worked for Angels and Demons. Demons did the same stuff as human couples, no wait required, but Angels on the other hand didn’t receive their reproductive organs until after their vows, preventing them from premarital sex. It was by no means a short process either. An average angelic couple didn’t seal the deal until weeks after their wedding, if they were in the mood at all. Having experienced the sudden growth of extra parts after I married Abihail, I was reminded of the unpleasant growth spurt. It took me a month to even think about using the thing after it had caused so much pain receiving it. But, what I had really wanted to know was just how Amy and Gabriel were going to consummate their union, since intercourse between Angels and humans had been forbidden.

  “So, just exactly what did Father explain to you?” I prodded for the answer to my curiosity.

  “That’s between a husband and wife. They’re here.” Gabriel announced, deflecting my question.

  “Booyah!” the Arches: Michael, Raphael, Uriel, Raguel, Remiel, and Saraqael bellowed as they surged through the door. Showing up in their human illusions, they had been a strange looking lot.

  Keeping to the regions they most identified with, Raphael chose the appearance of a short, round, middle aged Hispanic dressed in blue jeans. Saraqael’s stalky build, flame red hair, and freckled complexion distracted you briefly from his traditional Scottish kilt, sporran, sgiandubh, and ghillies. Remiel appeared as a gigantic, overweight Samoan in a floral ensemble only Hawaiian tourists would dare to wear. Raguel went a whole different direction by showing up as a greasy grunge rocker of average height, with a slender build, sandy blond hair, resembling a homeless man. Uriel stuck with the image of his favorite subject of study, a Miwok Native American. His long, black, braided hair, smooth ecru pigmentation, and almond brown eyes would make any mortal woman jealous. Michael, of course, had to set himself apart from the rest and chose the more attractive appearance of a tall, chiseled, Dolph Lundgren look-a-like.

  “Are you ready for a night full of adrenaline, danger, and questionable sanity?” Uriel shouted over the rumble of our salutations as he tossed rolled pieces of cloth to each of us.

  “What do you have planned?” Gabriel asked excitedly as he unrolled the cloth. Uriel had given us all matching black t-shirts. Gabriel’s shirt had ‘Doomed Groom’ written in large bold print. In identical lettering, mine and the others said “Groom’s Funeral Crew”.

  “Well, my dear brother, you’ll just have to wait and find out. Get your shirt on. Limo’s outside. Let’s go.” Uriel replied with a mischievous grin. Doing as we’d been instructed, the eight of us changed into our new shirts and made our way to the limousine.

  Our first destination had been a night club in D.C., full of scantily clad women and sweaty guys smothered in cheap cologne. For an hour we sat at a table in the V.I.P. section ignoring the women on the dance floor who desperately attempted to get our attention. Two girls seemed especially interested in Saraqael and his man-skirt. Another group of girls tried enticing Michael to the dance floor by tonguing and fondling each other while never taking their eyes off of him. The deafening thump-bump-da-da-thwap and sirens of the music made any conversation impossible. Not that we’d be able to talk about anything in particular since our waitress kept buzzing around trying to up-sale our waters to magnum bottles of Grey Goose vodka.

  “Is this all we’re doing tonight?” Gabriel leaned over the table and hollered.

  “I hope not. I’m bored out of my mind.” I replied.

  “Hey, can we get out of here?” Gabriel yelled to Uriel.

  “What?” Uriel shouted back.

  “I said I’m ready to leave!” Gabriel screamed at the top of his lungs just as the music had come to a stop before the next song. In unison, the group let out a sigh of relief and made our way out of the club.

  “So now what?” I asked as we stood in the parking lot.

  “Anyone around?” Uriel scanned the parking lot, causing each of us to take notice of the surroundings.

  “No one I can see.” Remiel answered.

  “Then let’s kick this pig!” Uriel howled seconds before he flashed. Upon hearing Uriel’s decree, I needed no explanation of what the rest of the night would hold in store. Sharing a precarious grin with Gabriel, we took off to follow Uriel and the others.

  Our next destination reeked of sulfur, swine feces, and decomposing flesh. Sucking in the putrid air, I knew some good times were ahead. The Wastelands had been a place for the ones Lucifer had no use for but didn’t deem necessary to damn to Purgatory. Condemned to live on the outskirts of Hell in their own filth, the half man, half swine creatures, dubbed Susmen, roamed the lands eating everything in their path, awaiting the day Lucifer would find a use for them. Having depleted most of their resources with their insatiable appetites, the Susmen turned to cannibalism.

/>   We first stumbled across the sounder of these pig-men while reconnoitering the area for another entrance into Lucifer’s territory. If the sight of bi-pedal boars hadn’t been enough to shock us, their cardinal red eyes, serrated tusk and jagged teeth were definite cause for alarm. Having never encountered such creatures we decided to test their abilities in battle in case it had been some new army Lucifer was creating. Despite their gross deformities, they proved to have brute strength, impressive agility, and sprinted at alarming speeds. However, they held two weaknesses; they slept deep through the night and whatever they touched, they consumed whether it be friend or foe.

  The rush we experienced running through the droves, making them collide and gnaw at one another, proved addictive, and thus the Pig Bowl was invented.

  “All right, you remember the rules. No weapons, no wings, no pushing, and no tripping the other players. First team to get their ball to the other side of the canyon wins, and I mean every member of your team. We’re not going to have a repeat of last time…Raphael.” Saraqael whispered, giving Raphael a stern glance.

  “It’s not my fault Remiel can’t keep up.” Raphael rebuffed.

  “Groom and best man are team captains. Pick your men.” Saraqael ignored Raphael’s defensive comment and handed Gabriel and me each an American football.

  “I’ll take Michael, Remiel, and Uriel.” Gabriel answered.

  “Prepare to lose, Brother.” I taunted.

  “Yeah, we’ll see about that.” Gabriel shot back.

  Saraqael, Raphael, Raguel, and I took our position on the southern peak looming over the canyon below. The others took theirs on the northern peak.

  “Raguel, you take the ball. The rest of us will clear a path. Stay on us. If you start falling behind or one is coming up on you, whistle.” I dictated. Raguel tucked the football under his arm and nodded. Once we were ready I flashed a golden light across the night sky. Seconds later Gabriel flashed his golden beam. With both teams ready, we counted to ten. Then with a cry appropriate for any battle we charged off the peak, free falling to the valley of sleeping Susmen below.

  The ground beneath us fissured and shook as we landed in the middle of the drove, startling them awake. It took a few short moments for the swine to realize food had arrived.

  “Run!” I shouted as the Susmen gave chase. In a ‘V’ formation, I took the lead with Raphael and Saraqael at the flanks, and Raguel close behind, we rushed through a horde of Susmen. As we broke through they’d collide with one another and commence ripping each other apart. Dodging left, right and even jumping over a few, we made our way through the mass of clawed hooves, barbed tusks and saw teeth when we saw Gabriel’s team not far off in the distance.

  Remiel led the opposing pack with a hefty lead as his teammates fought to keep up. I chuckled at the sight. Remiel wasn’t the fastest of the Arches. As a matter of fact, he’d been the slowest. Why they would choose him to take point had been beyond me. As I approached, it appeared as if he had been shouting something, but I had been unable to make it out over the snarling beasts surrounding us. With each team pushing forward, Remiel’s desperate cries became clearer and clearer.

  “Oh, dear Lord, help me! I’m gonna die! I’m gonna die!” Running on his heels had been the biggest, ugliest, rabid Susmen I’d ever seen.

  “Serpentine! Remiel! Serpentine!” I wailed, but it had been too late. With a swipe of his gnarled tusk the Susmen had Remiel pinned on the ground.

  “Get ‘em off! Get ‘em off me!” Remiel held the beast up with all his strength as the Susmen snapped his teeth mere inches from his face. Ignoring the rules of the game I flashed into the creature knocking him off only to find us surrounded by his kin.

  “Go! Go! Go!” A voice hollered as I saw streaks from my brothers flashing to safety. Following their lead I grabbed Remiel’s wrist and took off to the northern mountain peak.

  “That was too close. Thank you so much, Rahovart.” Remiel said, shaking my hand.

  “Oh man, you should have seen your face. ‘Ahh, he’s gonna eat me.” Raphael mocked, causing the group to burst out in laughter.

  “I’ve never seen you run so fast.” Gabriel added.

  “Hey, Remiel, I think you left your balls somewhere on the field. Might want to go get ‘em.” Uriel joked.

  “Ah, go ahead and make jokes. You didn’t have to outrun it.”

  “Well, you didn’t quite outrun it either.” I added to the banter.

  “Best game ever. One I’ll never —Saraqael had been cut off as a silent siren only an Arch had the power to hear wailed.

  In an instant we all took off for home. When we arrived it seemed every soldier we had stood at the gates in the ready position staring at something beyond our golden bars.

  Shoving our way through to the front of the formation, the eight of us froze in our tracks. Only a few yards away stood Lilith and her enormous pack of rats. Before I had the chance to ready my sword, the horde charged the gates, knocking them off the hinges.

  Chapter Five Etta

  I had shown up to the bachelorette party out of obligation to my friendship with Amy, but I had done everything possible in order to avoid any participation in the inane games. After being badgered by twenty five different women for being a party pooper, I gave in when it came time to make toilet paper wedding dresses.

  Of course to ensure her team won the t.p. fashion show, Amy gave my team the tallest “bride” in the whole house. I tried my best to create a long flowing veil on Amy’s sister, Meggan, but her long slender build had me stretching up to the very tip of my toes causing my calves to burn from the strain. Once I got a strand of paper tucked into her golden blonde hair, my legs would beg for solace. I’d plop down on my heels, ripping the delicate paper. Frustration building to the boiling point, I regretted my decision to participate in such a ridiculous ritual. Relief came as the ding dong of the doorbell chimed over the rambunctious chattering of toilet paper divas.

  Before anyone had a chance to contest, I rushed to the door and flung it open. My dad leaned against the door frame, barely holding himself up. He looked as though he’d gone through a blender only to be spat out into an inferno.

  “Mosh!” I called for Amy as my dad collapsed in my arms.

  It had been a nickname I’d given her after attending a Gogol Bordello concert. Sweet, petite Amy wearing Capri pants, a t-shirt, and flip-flops rushed into the testosterone dominated mosh pit and bashed into the crowd fearlessly. I’d step out of the pit to catch my breath and watch as Amy’s golden ringlets would wave over the crowd as she sent her body flying into another fellow mosher to the beat of the music. Up until Amy had been given healing powers by Father a few months ago, only I had ever called her Mosh. Needing to keep her safe during our living room battle with Vetis and Pyro, we hid her upstairs telling her only to come out if she heard her nickname.

  I had been grateful Amy had been given the ability to heal. She had used it on many occasions for everything from small shaving nicks to restoring Ra and my dad’s wings after they had been cut from them. Seeing Amy’s great power firsthand, I hadn’t been too scared about my dad’s condition.

  “I’m sorry, baby girl. I tried to protect him.” My dad sputtered out as I lowered him to the porch.

  “Who dad? Who did you try to protect? Dad?” I panicked as he lost consciousness.

  “What happened?” Amy rushed to my side, pulling my dad’s head from my lap to hers.

  “I don’t know. Heal him, Amy. You got to heal him.” I sobbed.

  “Shh.” Amy held her ear to my dad’s chest, when out of the blue René stepped over us, barking orders.

  “We need to get him out of here. Etta, go get the wheelbarrow and tarp from the shed. Amy, go back to the party. Tell everyone I had a fellow addict in need, and Etta has to drive me to meet them as a sobriety precaution. We’ll meet you at our house when it’s over.”

  Dumbfounded, Amy and I sat there staring at each other, mouths agape.

  �
��Hop to.” René demanded, snapping her fingers.

  I clumsily took off for the shed. I ran back to the bottom of the porch with the wheelbarrow and tarp as instructed. I watched amazed as René deadlifted my dad and threw him over her shoulder as if she were a seasoned marine on the battlefield.

  “Don’t just stand there gawking, move the tarp.” René grunted as she made her way down the stairs.

  Leaning over the wheelbarrow, René dropped my dad inside, tossing the tarp over him. Clenching the handles, René took off in a sprint towards home. I found it surprisingly difficult to keep up with her in her beige stilettos, though I had been wearing a pair of hand-me-down combat boots.

  “Get the door. Hurry.” with a surge of strength, René pulled the wheelbarrow up the stairs of our house effortlessly.

  Slinging the door open, I walked ahead making sure the floor to the living room had been clear of any obstructions. René positioned the wheelbarrow next to couch, tilting it until my dad finally rolled onto the dull pink floral cushions.

  “Get some warm water and some rags out of the kitchen.” René commanded, removing her bright yellow blazer.

  As I came back into the living room with every rag I had been able to find and a pitcher of hot water from the faucet, the realization that René must have known about my dad dawned on me.

  The mystery had been how? After my dad became a High Knight Templar two years ago, he planned every exit and arrival to a T. Any celestial being that might possibly stop by our home in Quantico had been given instruction to go straight to the attic as quietly as possible. When Ra and Gabriel came into the picture, we always took every precaution needed to ensure René never found out about the strange comings and goings in the house. I had even gone as far as drugging her right before our house had been sacked by Vetis three months ago. Had we missed something? Did we accidently let the truth slip out during conversation? Or had she overheard us? How long has she known? If we had, René never let on she knew.