The Angel of Death (The Soul Summoner Book 3) (36 page)

The guys around the fire were softly chuckling.
 

Azrael held up his hand to silence us all. “Quiet.”

I didn’t hear anything.

Azrael tossed his paper plate into the fire and slowly rose from his seat, his ear angled up toward the sky.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Silence!” Azrael demanded, walking closer to me.

I bit down on the inside of my lips.

“Surround positions!” Azrael called out.

What the hell…

The unmistakable sound of gravel grinding under tires came from the road. I watched the soldiers scatter from the campfire and put on gear waiting at the ready nearby. They moved like pieces of a well-oiled machine. I, on the other hand, ran in circles like a squirrel stuck in rush hour traffic.
 

I grabbed Azrael’s arm. “I forgot to tell you!”

“You summoned her?” he asked.

I nodded.

He patted my back. “Good girl. You stay behind Warren, no matter what.” Before I could say anything, he turned away, slipping an earpiece into his ear. He pulled on a pair of black gloves that had been tucked into his pocket and handed Warren the assault rifle that had been sitting next to his camping chair.

Warren slipped the gun’s strap over his head. “Sloan, what’s going on?”

“I need to tell you something.”

He looked down at me. “What now?”

I covered my mouth with my hands. “I summoned the FBI here.”

His head snapped back. “You did
what
?”

I ducked behind his back as headlights flashed through the sky. “It was Azrael’s idea. He told me to summon Silvers here to let her see what’s going on. He said it’s the only way to prove my innocence.”
 

He raised the rifle to his shoulder. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

“Azrael told me not to.” I gripped his sides. “And, honestly, I kind of forgot about it with…you know, everything else.”

The black sedan rolled to a stop behind one of Azrael’s SUVs.

Nathan appeared at Warren’s side. “Human or supe?” he asked, looking at Warren.

“Human,” Warren answered. “Sloan summoned the feds here.”

Nathan’s angry gaze shot to me. “Excuse me?”

Before I could explain, we heard more than one car door open.
 

“I guess she brought friends,” Warren said.

I balled my fists at my sides in frustration. “I don’t know why I listen to that guy!”

Suddenly, the faces of Agent Silvers and Agent Voss were lit up by the flashlights mounted on the assault rifles pointed at them by Azrael’s men.
 

“Who’s the guy?” Warren asked me over his shoulder.
 

“He’s the agent who questioned me at the federal building,” I answered.

Sharvell Silvers looked surprised but not the least bit intimidated. “My name is Agent Silvers, and I work for the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I must advise you of—”

Azrael took a few steps forward and held up a hand to silence her. “Lady, I don’t care who you are or who you work for. You’re in my world now.” He pointed to her chest. There were two bright red dots from laser sights gleaming in the center of her breast bone.

Even from our distance, I could see her gulp.

“I don’t want to kill you.” Azrael spread out his hands as he walked to face her. “But I will.”

His malevolent threat was enough to make me shudder.

Sharvell shifted on her feet.

Azrael crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side. “Stand down, Agent. You and I both know the government doesn’t pay you enough to put your family through a funeral at Christmas.” He put his hand over the top of her pistol.

She hesitated for a second, then released it into his grasp.

Agent Voss lowered his gun as well, and Cooper came out of the darkness and immediately disarmed him.

Satisfied, Azrael took a step back. He raised a finger in the air and swirled it around. “Check that car, boys,” he said into his microphone.

Enzo and Lex walked to the sedan, keeping their aim on the driver who was still seated behind the wheel with his hands raised in the air.
 

Azrael reached into the pocket on the front of his vest and tossed a handful of zip-ties to Warren. “Staff Sergeant, you and Nate make our guests comfortable.”

That’s when Sharvell saw Nathan and her expression morphed from anger to confusion. “Detective McNamara?”

He groaned as he walked up and grabbed her hands. “Yeah.”

“Is Sloan here as well?” she asked as he tied her wrists together with the plastic strip.

I walked straight up to her, much braver with her in restraints. “Nice to see you again, Sharvell.”

Her mouth was hanging open.

I shook my head. “Don’t try to make sense of what’s happening to you right now. I do promise I won’t let them hurt you.”

Nathan and Warren walked the two agents over to the campfire and pushed them down carefully onto the ground. Enzo brought over the driver, Agent Clark if I remembered correctly, and put him down beside them as well.
 

Nathan dusted his hands off and looked at the agents. “It’s nothing personal guys.”

“Your career is finished, Detective,” Sharvell spat at him.

“Yeah, I figured. But I have a feeling, you’ll see why.”

Her brow rose, and she glared at me before mumbling something to her partner.

Azrael walked up beside me. “You made the right choice, Sloan.”

Warren spun around toward him. “What were you thinking, Azrael?”

Azrael held his hands up in defense. “This is the only way the three of you get to go home again.”

“Home again?” Sharvell asked from the ground. “You’re harboring a fugitive from federal custody. No one here is going home.”

Azrael smiled. “Those are mighty words from where you sit in the dirt.” He looked around at us and his men. “Nothing changes tomorrow.” He gestured toward the agents. “They’ll be coming with us.”

There was a collective gasp around the circle, along with lots of wide eyes and dropped jaws.

Warren crossed his arms over his chest. “You can’t be serious. You’re going to let them see everything?”

Azrael put his hand on Warren’s shoulder. “Son, sometimes it’s in everyone’s best interest to not keep things hidden. This will certainly be what’s best for you.”

“Will you leave them tied up?” Nathan asked. “They’ll get killed out there!”

Azrael nodded. “It’s possible.”

The agents squirmed uncomfortably, but none of them spoke.

Nathan scowled. “They may be sorely misguided in their attempts to uphold justice, but they’re still the good guys.”

Azrael grinned at me. “Maybe I’ll stick them in Sloan’s hideout cave.”

I held up my hands. “As long as you don’t expect me to go in there too.”

“I demand to know what’s going on here!” Sharvell shouted.

Azrael walked over and knelt down in front of her, leaning forward on his knee for support and intimidation. It worked because Sharvell shrank back. “Tomorrow will be a war unlike anything you’ve ever seen. You can decide which side of that war you want to be on. I trust you’ll recognize where you went wrong in this whole mix up.”

“There is no mix up,” she argued. “We have Sloan on videotape working with Abigail Smith.”

“Perhaps,” he said. “But tomorrow you’ll see that not everything you believe to be true actually is.”

“Who are you?” she barked viciously at him.

Slowly, he rose till he towered over them again. “My name is Azrael. And I’m the Angel of Death.”

* * *

The next morning, I was awake before the sun which by itself was a miracle. Warren was still sleeping, also a miracle. Maybe it would be a good day for miraculous things to happen. God knows, we needed all the help we could get.

It was so cold I could see my breath, but I was snug under the weight of several sleeping bags and the heavy arm of the man of my dreams and beyond. His breath was warm against the back of my neck where he was curled protectively around me from behind. Our legs were tangled under the blanket.

Outside, hushed voices carried over the sound of something sizzling in a pan over the open fire. It smelled like sausage.

Warren stirred slightly, then I felt his lips grace the back of my shoulder. “Good morning,” he whispered in the early morning light.

I snuggled closer into him. “Good morning.”

His arm tightened around me. “I need about four more hours of shut-eye.”

“I didn’t sleep well either,” I said, lacing my fingers between his under the blanket. He slid our locked hands down to my stomach, and the baby’s tiny body fluttered. I glanced back at him over my shoulder. “I think she can sense you. She’s moving again.”

He flattened his palm against my stomach. “I still can’t believe you’re pregnant.”

“Some days, neither can I.” I rolled over till we were almost nose-to-nose and I curled my arms up under the pillow. I studied his handsome face to burn all his features into my memory.
 

“What are you thinking about?” he whispered.

“If something happens today—”

He shook his head to cut me off. “Don’t talk like that. We’re going to win, you’ll see.”

“You don’t know that, Warren.” I hugged the pillow a little tighter. “If something happens to me, I want you to know how much I love you.”

The corner of his mouth tipped up into a smile. “You showed me pretty well last night, a few times.”

I didn’t laugh. “I’m serious.”

He pushed my hair behind my ear. “I love you too, Sloan. This will all be behind us soon. We’ll go home and have a beautiful little girl, and we are going to be happy. You’ll see.”

I smiled and wanted to believe him, but it was hard considering that the hounds of hell were coming with the day.
 

“I hope she has your eyes,” he said.

I grinned. “I hope she has your hair.”

He laughed and rolled over on top of me.

* * *

When Warren and I walked out of the camper later that morning, Nathan was sitting at the table alone, buttering a piece of toast. He was wearing multi-cam like the rest of Azrael’s soldiers, and his face was flushed with bright shades of blue and purple. His eyes widened with worry as we approached and sat down. Cautiously, and silently, he slid a couple of empty plates toward us.

Warren poured two cups of coffee from the aluminum pot on the table and handed one to me.

“She can’t have that—” Nathan began, then quickly snapped his mouth closed.

Warren glowered across the table.

Not another word was spoken as we ate, and Nathan chewed his food slowly as though it may be the last meal he would ever taste. Warren punished his eggs with his fork, clanging the tines so hard against the plate that the birds in the nearby tree line scattered each time he went for a bite. I nibbled a piece of sausage, praying for something to break the awkward tension.
 

That something turned out to be one of the HOKs appearing in the field from the tree line. Driving it was Azrael, and in the passenger seat was another man—no,
angel
—that I didn’t know. They rolled to a stop about twenty feet away. “Good morning, all,” Azrael said when he was close enough.

I smiled up at him. “Good morning.”

Azrael leaned against the table. “Have we all kissed and made up?” His smile was taunting.

Warren nor Nathan even looked up.

Azrael laughed. “Well, if you’d all take a break from your brooding this morning, I’d like you to meet a friend of mine.” He turned toward the man with him. “This is Reuel. We spoke of him yesterday.”

Reuel was twice Azrael’s size, a remarkable achievement by anyone’s standard. He reminded me of a life-size action figure—or a professional wrestling entertainer, like John Cena without a soul. Reuel was terrifying.

Azrael spoke to him in Katavukai
and told him all our names.

Unsure of angelic introduction protocol, given Azrael’s aversion to hand-shaking, I waved awkwardly from my seat. “Nice to meet you, Reuel.”

Azrael shook his head. “Reuel, doesn’t speak English. He understands it perfectly well, but he never speaks it.”

Weird.

I motioned toward the food. “Are you hungry?”

“We already ate,” he answered. “I came to make sure everyone is up and moving. It will be a busy day.”

“Where did you stash the FBI?” Warren asked.

Azrael pointed to his camper behind us. “I hope they enjoyed their accommodations.” He turned in the direction he had pointed and began to walk. “Let’s go find out.”

A few minutes later, Azrael, Reuel, Kane, and Enzo escorted the FBI team out to the campfire. They looked awful, sleepless and afraid, and they were all still bound at the wrists. I knew what that felt like. “Are the wrist ties really necessary?” I asked.

“Yes,” everyone else answered at the same time.

“They don’t have weapons and they can’t go anywhere,” I reasoned.

“Not happening, Sloan,” Azrael said. “Let it go.”

I got up from the table. “Have you at least given them water or food?”

“No,” Agent Clark answered.

I put my hands on my hips and looked at Az in disbelief. “Seriously? They’re not our prisoners. Bring me some bottles of water.”

Azrael looked annoyed, but then he smiled. “OK, but you have to get it yourself.”

With a huff, I turned toward the cooler and took a step.

“No!” he shouted.

I looked back at him.

“You can’t use your hands.”

“Fine,” I said, pushing up my sleeves.

Everyone was watching me. I took a deep breath and focused on the blue and white cooler sitting outside of Azrael’s camper.
 

This will be tricky. I need to open the cooler, then somehow count out three bottles of water. Hmm.
A smile spread across my face.
Or…

Much easier than I expected, I lifted the entire cooler off the ground. Just like an invisible person was carrying it, it traveled across the lot, past me, and directly at Azrael’s face. I dropped it with a thud right at his toes, making him jump out of the way.

The entire campsite exploded into cheers.