The Angel of Death (The Soul Summoner Book 3) (21 page)

Not exactly the answer I expected.

“She knew her own mind, didn’t back down to anyone. And she was tough. She never once flinched during that war, and it was brutal.” A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Maybe she flinched once.” His expression was fascinating as he traced the line of the scar down his face. “She was with me when I got this.”

I’d always been curious about that scar but too afraid to ask. “Oh, I have to hear that story.”

“We slipped away from the hospital one night to an abandoned hut in a village the Viet Cong had lost to the army. On our way through the village, I ran up ahead and ripped down the Vietnam flag left behind.” He looked away, but I swear I saw a tinge of pink rise in his cheeks.

“And?”

“The flag was rigged with a grenade.”

My hands flew to cover my mouth.

He laughed. “Blew half my damn head off.”

“Are you serious?”

He nodded, still shaking with chuckles. “Yeah. It took a while to come back from that one.” He looked over at me. “Needless to say, my seductive plans for that night were thwarted by my own stupidity.”

“Did she freak out?”

“Of course she did, but by then she knew I’d come back.” Azrael’s laughter subsided. “She never let me forget it though.”

I gave the photo back to him. “What happened to her?”

“She died when Warren was born.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and cast his eyes down at the floor. “There were complications during his delivery that were compounded by Warren and I being what we are. The doctors couldn’t stop the bleeding, and her heart gave out.”

My heart ached. “I’m sorry.”

He forced a smile.
 

“Warren refuses to go around sick people with me because he says his presence makes them worse,” I said.

He nodded. “That’s true.”

We were both quiet for a while. I touched my stomach. “Azrael, when this baby is born, will I die?”

He gently took my hand. “No. Warren’s birth was complicated, and his mother was not an Angel of Life, as you are. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

I sighed with relief and relaxed in my chair.

A nurse walked into the waiting room. “Sloan Jordan?”

We both stood.
 

She looked up at Azrael. “Is this the baby’s father?”

“No, this is the baby’s…” I caught myself before I said
grandfather
.
 

Azrael stretched out his hand. “I’m the father’s brother.”

She smiled, obviously confused. “Oh, OK.” She looked at me. “Well, this appointment won’t be as invasive as the last. Dr. Watts is going to do a different type of ultrasound if you would like for the baby’s uncle to come with you.”

I looked at Azrael. “Want to come see your
niece
?”

A genuine smile came over his face. “I would love to.”

“Follow me,” she said.
 

We walked back to an exam room. The nurse opened the door, and we followed her inside. She motioned to the weight scale by the window. “I need to get your weight and your vitals,” she said.

I kicked off my tennis shoes and stepped onto the scale. I had gained two pounds since my last appointment. She took my blood pressure and temperature and then pointed to the exam table. “Go ahead and have a seat. Dr. Watts will be in shortly.”

When she left the room, I looked over at Azrael who was studying a three-dimensional model of a pregnant woman. It was cut in half to show her insides. He touched it, and the fake baby toppled out of the model’s uterus and bounced across the floor.

I laughed.

Dr. Watts came in, hugging her clipboard. “Hello again, Sloan.”

I smiled. “Hello.”

She stuck out her hand toward Azrael, and he actually shook it. “I hear you’re the baby’s uncle. Welcome.”

“Thank you,” he replied.

She put the clipboard down by the sink and sat on a chair with wheels. “How are you feeling these days, Sloan?”

“Tired and I cry
all the time.
Is that normal?” I asked.

She chuckled. “Yes. It’s perfectly normal and it may get worse.” She patted the pillow behind me. “Sloan, you can go ahead and lie back. No need for a gown this time. Just pull your shirt up,” she said.
 

Obediently, I lay back on the table and tugged my sweatshirt up to my ribs.
 

She rolled the ultrasound machine over beside the table. “Normally, I don’t do ultrasounds this early, but with your accident a few weeks ago, I would rather play it safe.”

“I understand,” I said.

“I read the report. That must have been quite the ordeal,” she said as she turned the machine on.

I nodded. “It was terrifying.”

“I’m glad you were able to get out of the car.”

“Me too.”

“Me three,” Azrael added.

Dr. Watts squeezed warm blue jelly out of a bottle onto my stomach. Then she rolled a wand around in the jelly, pressing it into my abdomen. After a moment, we all heard a fast
bump, bump, bump.

“Is that the baby’s heartbeat?” I asked.

She smiled and nodded her head. “Yes, and it’s very strong.” She put her finger on the screen. “See the little blinking light? That’s the heart.”

Azrael leaned close to the screen and sucked in a deep breath. “That’s the baby?” he asked.

“That’s him,” she said.

“Or her,” he corrected.

She laughed. “Yes. She looks wonderful, Sloan.”

I sat up on my elbows for a better view. The little bean actually looked like a baby this time. It had tiny arms and legs and a giant head in comparison to the body. My eyes prickled with tears.

Azrael was completely mesmerized by the screen. “It’s really real,” he said.

“It’s quite a miracle, isn’t it?” Dr. Watts asked.

He looked back at me. “You have no idea what a miracle it is.”

Dr. Watts printed out a photo for me to take home, and I tucked it into my purse. Before I left, she asked me a ton of questions about my health. Have I had any abnormal bleeding? Have I had problems with my anxiety? Have I had any more migraines? I assured her all was well, and we were free to leave.

On our way back to the car, Azrael looked over at me. “What do you think about the migraines?”
 

I groaned. “They’re terrible. That’s actually how I knew I was pregnant. I didn’t have a migraine when we dropped Warren off at the military station.”

He nodded. “Even though I’ve never been pregnant, that makes sense. When I left Warren at the church in Chicago, I was sick for a week.”

“I believe it,” I said. “Warren figured out our migraines usually start around the thirty mile mark of us being separated. Is that how it works?”

He shook his head. “Not exactly. Your power is limited by distance, but it’s not an exact science. The closer two angels are in proximity, the worse the separation.”

“Is that why Warren never had migraines before me?” I asked. “Because you kept your distance?”

“Correct. His side effects would have been mild.”

For a moment, my mind replayed the horrific headaches I’d experience. “I guess that makes sense. My first migraine happened immediately after Warren left, certainly not after thirty miles.”

“And Warren’s likely happened later,” he said. “Warren’s body was more adjusted to the physiological response than yours was.”

I stopped walking.

He turned toward me. “What is it?”

“When I figured out Kasyade was my mother, I called her, and she was out of town. When I talked to her in Texas, she said she had a headache when she got back. She was with another angel while she was traveling.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Did she say where she went?”

I shook my head. “No, but I’ll bet we can find out.” I tugged on his arm. “Come on. We need to find Nathan.”

* * *

When we got back to my house, Azrael yanked my keys out of my hand when I tried to use them at the front door. “You don’t need them anymore.”

“My bladder says otherwise,” I answered.

He dangled them in the air, just out of my reach. “I guess you have some good motivation then.”

“Some days I think you’re a demon.”

He winked. “Some days I would agree.” He pointed to the lock. “Focus like you did this morning.”

For five full minutes, I focused on the damn deadbolt. And for five minutes, nothing happened. “You’re not projecting your energy into the lock,” he said. “See it in your mind. Slide the bolt open.”

My knees were pinched together, and I was bouncing. “I see it in my mind, and I’m sliding the stupid bolt open. It’s not working.”

Suddenly, the door swung open. But it wasn’t my supernatural doing. It was Nathan. “The door’s unlocked,” he said.

I spun with a glare toward Azrael. “How can I unlock an unlocked door, you stupid angel?”

He laughed, holding his hands up in the surrender position. “Maybe you should’ve tried the handle first.”

With a huff of frustration, I thrust my purse in to Nathan’s arms and ran past him into the house. I took the steps two at a time upstairs to the closest bathroom. When I was finished, I trudged back to the living room. Nathan was sitting on the sofa watching the news. He looked up at me. “Still haven’t mastered your superpowers, huh?”

“Maybe I have. I guess we’ll never know,” I said, sitting down next to him on the arm of the couch.

He gestured toward the door. “I can lock you outside if you like.”

I rolled my eyes.

He handed me my purse. “How was the doctor’s appointment?”

“Oh!” I found the photo Dr. Watts had given me and thrust it in front of his face. “Look!”

He smiled. “That’s awesome. She looks just like you.” He turned in his seat to look at me. “Did you know the kitchen window is busted?”

I pointed at Azrael as he walked in with water from the kitchen. “He did it.”

He pointed back at me. “You did it.”

“Only because you fired a gun next to my head!”

Nathan jerked his head toward Azrael. “You fired a gun in the house?”

Azrael shrugged his shoulders. “They were blanks.”

“Still!” Nathan shouted. “What the hell were you doing?”

I crossed my legs and let them dangle off the arm of the sofa. “Azrael was teaching me how to move things with my mind.”

Nathan was almost too angry to laugh. Almost. “What?”

Azrael put his hand on my shoulder. “She did it too. That’s how the window was broken.”

Nathan narrowed his eyes. “Is that why I found an orange on the sidewalk?”

I patted him on the back. “Good work, Detective.”

He sighed and shook his head.

I grabbed his shoulder. “Speaking of detective work, guess what I figured out?”

He looked up at me. “What?”

“I’ll bet Kasyade visited Ysha or Phenex, or maybe both, right before the second trip we made to Texas. If we can get ahold of her travel records, then we can possibly find them,” I said.

“What makes you think that?” he asked.

“Because she had a migraine when she got back which means she was with another angel,” I said.

He laughed. “I want to be on the line when you explain this theory to the FBI.”

“It’s possible to find out though, right?” I asked.

“Yeah, it’s possible.”

“And if we find the other two sisters, then we find Kasyade and end this thing,” I said.

“There is a lot of
ifs
in that assumption,” Nathan said. “
If
we find them and
if
she’s with them and
if
they don’t kill us all before we can do anything about it.” He looked back at Azrael. “I’m not even so sure it’s such a good idea to go looking for them if we have no way of killing them. What’s the point?”

Azrael opened his mouth to answer, but the doorbell rang.

Nathan looked at me. “You expecting company?”

I shook my head and moved to get up.

The doorbell rang again.

Azrael held up a hand and signaled for me to stop.

It rang a third time.

Then a fourth.

And a fifth.

I sent out my evil radar.
 

Nothing human was pressing the doorbell as it chimed over and over and over again…

15.

Nathan stayed in front of me as a shield as we turned and watched Azrael walk to the door. His heavy footfalls on the hardwood creating an eerie sound against the incessant chimes. Without looking through the peephole, he opened the door.

And through it fell the red-haired woman, tattered and bloody.

I gripped Nathan’s arm as I peered over his shoulder.

Azrael caught her as she collapsed over the threshold, and I relaxed when I realized she was unconscious.
 

“Where can I put her?” he asked, lifting her limp body into the air.

“On the couch,” I said.

She wore a pair of thin sweatpants and a men’s v-neck white t-shirt. That was it. It was freezing outside. Blood was crusted on most of her skin, except for the places it was still sticky on arms and feet. Azrael hesitated before laying her down on my white furniture.

“It’s only a couch,” I told him. “Put her down.”

Her body was emaciated, like something off the cover of a National Geographic story on third world poverty. Her skin was so thin it was translucent, showcasing thin blue veins and tendons everywhere clean enough to be visible. Her sunken eyes were open but fixed on the ceiling, staring into nothingness, or maybe not staring at all.

Nathan felt for a pulse. “She’s alive.” He stretched out one of her arms along the sofa. My name was still freshly carved into her flesh. I shuddered.

Her pale lips were cracked and raw. She looked like a corpse—and felt like one too.

I looked at Azrael. “This is Ysha’s daughter? What happened to her?”

He took a step back. “My guess is she was raised by Ysha.”

“I thought that wasn’t allowed or something,” Nathan said.

“It’s not.” I looked at Azrael. “This is why, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “That is correct. Imagine a lifetime of constant electroshock. It breaks the mind which all of us still have. This, or some version of this, is always the result.”

“Can I heal her?” I asked.

He looked at me with sadness in his eyes. “She’s like you. She already has your healing power.”