Archangel Evolution

  “What was that for?” Gabriel asked, a smirk crossing his face.

  “Nothing. Bird’s Nest would be perfect, but no hanky-panky. We have a lot to talk about.”

  Gabriel laughed. “What did you think, that I was going to try to seduce you or something?”

  “Well, no, but I’m just saying….we don’t have time for being in love right now.”

  “There’s always time for love.”

  “Whatever, can we just go?” Taylor snapped.

  Gabriel was still chuckling. “Sure, I just have to find a demon to port us back to UT.”

  “We’ll use one of my guards,” Taylor said. “They are always within sight, although they try to blend in like they’re spies or something.” She glanced up and down the hall. “Ah, there’s one.”

  “Where?” Gabriel said.

  “Dude in the ratty Yankees hat with the magazine.”

  “You sure? He might just be visiting someone in the hospital.”

  “Watch and learn, my friend.” Taylor approached a demon who appeared to be concentrating hard on reading an article. She dipped her head around the top edge of his reading material so she could see it. “Interesting…‘Sexy or Elegant: This Year’s Choice in Eveningwear.’ Good article?”

  Startled, the guy looked up at Taylor. “Well, uh, yeah. Very well-written. You can never be too informed.”

  “Right,” Taylor said. “Can you take us back to UT?”

  “Sure.” He flushed, embarrassed that he had been made so easily. He didn’t turn red exactly, because it just wasn’t possible; rather, he turned a slighter darker shade of dark.

  Moments later and thousands of miles away, they were back on UT’s campus, where night was fast approaching. They had instructed the demon to get them as close to the stadium as possible and he obliged by teleporting them onto the empty field. Now that the season was over, there was little risk of running into anyone except maintenance crews. They thanked the demon and Gabriel promised him that he would protect Taylor for the rest of the night.

  “I don’t need protection,” Taylor said when the demon left.

  “I know, I only said it to get rid of him.”

  “I can protect myself.”

  “I know that.”

  “Fly me,” Taylor said.

  “Why don’t you give it a try?”

  “No, thanks. I still don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

  Without another word, Gabriel snatched Taylor in his muscular arms and leapt into the air—his jump was impossibly high, the equivalent of a high-jumper clearing the bar without using a pole. Then, with a slight pop! his wings escaped from his sinewy back. With powerful strokes, Gabriel’s wings propelled them higher and higher until they were looking down from above the stadium. The sky looked beautiful: clusters of stars winked off and on; wispy clouds caught final red rays of the already-set sun; a giant, low-set full moon illuminated a broad pathway across the landscape.

  “Unnecessary and show-offy flying: a clear attempt at seduction,” Taylor said.

  “You’re crazy,” Gabriel said. “I’m just enjoying the evening.”

  “Right.”

  Unexpectedly, Gabriel dropped sharply, allowing them to momentarily free fall until they had cleared the upper ramparts of the stadium. “Woohoo!” Taylor yelled, enjoying the butterflies in her stomach and the thrill from the extreme maneuver.

  Turning sharply to the left, Gabriel headed directly for a corner of the stadium. Just when it looked—and felt—like they would surely crash into the steel rafters, he weaved between two flagpoles and landed on his feet on a hidden platform set against the stadium wall. “Honey, we’re home!” Gabriel joked.

  “Very funny. Thanks for the ride; I didn’t realize how much I’d missed that.”

  “Giving in to my charms already, I see,” Gabriel said, setting Taylor back on her feet, only to clamp his hands around her waist and pull her tightly against his body.

  Unlocking his hands from her hips, Taylor said, “Nice try, angel-boy, but I want to get straight to business.”

  “Okay,” Gabriel said as he sat down with his back to the wall, “what do you want to know?”

  “You said my test results were ready.”

  “Right. The actual report is a couple hundred pages long, but the summary is all up here,” he said, pointing to his head.

  “Am I turning into a three-eyed hobgoblin?”

  “Yes, in fact, you are,” he joked. “But I promise to love you all the same and will even attempt to gaze romantically into all three of your eyes at the same time.”

  “Thanks. What’s the real story?”

  Gabriel smiled. “The real story is much better. Simply put, you’re an anomaly.”

  “So a freak, right?”

  “Yes, but a very powerful freak. You are the first of your kind. Previously, only one angel had evolved—Dionysus—and all other angels were his offspring. In other words, I am technically related to him, although we don’t really see it that way, just as you probably don’t think of Adam from the Bible as your relative. And even Dionysus evolved from the demon race; there have been no instances of humans evolving directly to angels. Well, until you, of course.”

  “Okay, I get that, but how did it happen?”

  “We’re not sure exactly, but what the researchers do know, is that your inner light is stronger than the average angel. Actually, much stronger. It’s similar to how your aura was much stronger than all other humans, except now you are stronger than all other angels, too.”

  “I’m stronger than all angels?” Taylor asked incredulously.

  “Yes.”

  “So I’m stronger than Sampson, the walking, talking tank?”

  “Yes.”

  “And stronger than Dionysus and his remaining Archangels?”

  “Yep.”

  “Then that must mean….I’m stronger than you, too!”

  Gabriel sighed. “I wouldn’t get carried away, but yes. Their theory is that the size of your aura as a human and the constant use of your aura by me caused some kind of a metamorphosis. Your blood was probably the first to change—from red to white—and provided the source of nourishment to allow your body to change.”

  “And my wings to grow.”

  Nodding, Gabriel said, “Exactly. And for some reason you are more powerful than all other angels, almost like a real archangel.”

  Taylor frowned. “But I thought Dionysus and his Council were archangels?”

  “That’s just a name Dionysus made up. While they tend to be the most powerful—and evil—angels, there is nothing truly special about them. You, on the other hand, are genuinely special, one of a kind, unique...”

  Gabriel continued on with his synonym list, but Taylor stopped listening. She was remembering that first night with Gabriel, when he had told her he thought she was special. She had made a joke out of it. Now he was saying it again, but for a different reason. It felt like déjà vu.

  Gabriel was saying, “…singular, distinct, exceptional—”

  “Enough!” Taylor snapped. “I get it, I’m different. I’ve always been different though, so it’s cool with me.”

  Gabriel laughed. “You are definitely different.”

  Taylor said, “Is that it? That I’m unique and powerful.”

  Gabriel shrugged. “Pretty much.”

  “So what happens next?”

  “The demon Elders wanted me to ask you something.” Taylor waited expectantly. “They wanted to ask if you would be willing to use your newfound abilities to help kill Dionysus.”

  Taylor stared at Gabriel. Dionysus. Just thinking his name sent snakes of anger wriggling through her. Her heart rate leapt, her hands sweated, her eyes narrowed. Her mom had taught her the strength of the word hate, and had counseled her never to use it or to feel it. But in this case she would make an exception. She hated the Evil that was Dionysus. And she would do anything in her power to destroy him.

  “Damn straight I’ll hel
p.”

  “I thought you might say that,” Gabriel said. “Training begins tomorrow if you’re ready.”

  Chapter Nine

  While the fiercest portion of his anger had subsided, a smaller, more controllable fury remained below the surface, simmering, like a witch’s brew filled with eye of newt, unicorn blood, vampire fangs, and clippings from anything else that goes bump in the night. It was the heat from his rage that seemed to sustain him, to give him power. He was changed by it. There was no reason to question whether the changes were for the better. The joy that he felt confirmed it.

  After he had received his appointment to the Archangel Council, David had made his way back to his small room to get his stuff. He would be moving to one of the dead Archangel’s rooms—Thomas’s maybe?—and was excited to escape the rat hole he had been living in. No longer an apprentice to anyone, David would be an equal to all but Dionysus. Sarah and Johanna might not understand how a fifteen-year-old boy could rise to such a position, but they would soon see the light.

  He didn’t even feel like a child anymore, although he knew that in age and in body he still was. In mind, he was a god, all-knowing and judging. It was like a thousand years had passed in the blink of an eye, wizening him. He didn’t know how it had happened, but it did, and for that he was thankful. It would give him the ability to kill Gabriel the next time he had the chance, regardless of his lesser stature and experience.

  As he zipped up his duffel bag full of clothes, there was a knock at the door and Lucas pushed through. “Ready?” he said.

  Without responding, David slung the bag over his shoulder and followed Lucas out. As they walked, Lucas talked incessantly. About how cool it was that they were on the Council, how he couldn’t wait to get his revenge on Gabriel, and even how awesome it was that David shut down Johanna in the meeting.

  David wished he would shut his mouth.

  Chapter Ten

  “Are you okay?” Gabriel asked.

  Taylor raised her eyebrows. They were camped out in Gabriel’s dorm room eating barbecue chips and drinking Pepsi, talking about anything but angels and demons, when he had suddenly asked the question. Before answering, she tried to think of all the reasons that she might not be okay. Her evolution into a one-of-a-kind angel? No, she was ecstatic about that. The fact that she was involved in a century-old war between the two most powerful armies the world had ever seen? That used to be a problem, but now that she was as strong—or stronger—than the other angels, she felt like she could contribute. Having to lie to her father? It was for his own safety, so no, not a problem. She couldn’t work out what he meant.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked.

  “The dream.”

  Ahh, yes, the dream. Taylor had completely forgotten about the nightmare she had had the previous night. Gabriel’s purported death, her lust for revenge, the snake wrenching her warm, white heart from her chest, Dionysus’s face, Gabriel’s reanimation and subsequent catching of her bloody, still-beating heart as it plummeted towards her face: Each memory flashed by with such intensity that she felt a physical burning in her head more painful than a migraine or a brain freeze effected by the overzealous consumption of rocky road ice cream.

  Taylor screwed up her face and groaned, in an effort to lessen the pain.

  Gabriel grabbed her, while saying, “Taylor? What’s the matter, Tay?”

  She held her head for moment, gently massaging her temples. When the bulk of the pain had passed, she said, “It’s nothing, I’m fine. Just a weird flash-headache.”

  “Flash-headache?”

  Taylor explained: “Yeah, you know. Like a flash-flood, except a headache. A quick and unexpected pain in your head with unknown origins.”

  “I’ve never heard about that before. You get them often?”

  “Never. But I read about them somewhere.”

  “It seems to me like the origin was me mentioning the dream,” Gabriel said.

  “Maybe,” Taylor admitted. “How do you know about the dream anyway?”

  “I tried to stop it, Tay. Desperately tried, but Dionysus was too strong. I have been monitoring your dreams for a long time now, trying to prevent our enemies from messing around with them.”

  Taylor had never really gotten used to the angels’ and demons’ ability to participate in, and even modify, the dreams of anyone they chose. But she was an angel now, wasn’t she protected? “So Dionysus can enter angels’ and demons’ dreams, too? I thought it only worked with humans?”

  “Technically it works with anyone, except for gargoyles, although we’re not sure why they’re protected.”

  “Then why doesn’t Dionysus mess with your dreams? And other demons’ dreams? And why don’t you mess with his?”

  “Because from a very young age, angels and demons are taught how to protect themselves. I will be teaching you as part of your training.”

  “Show me now,” Taylor demanded.

  Gabriel shrugged. “I guess it could only help at this point.” He moved to the floor, a narrow space of shag carpet between his bed and desk. Pulling Taylor after him, he instructed: “Sit cross-legged, arms out to the side, hands open and relaxed meditation-style.”

  Once in position, Taylor instinctively closed her eyes before being told. “Now what?”

  “Clear your mind.”

  Damn, that might be a problem. Taylor had never been good at this meditation crap. Anything that required intense concentration and thought control was difficult for her. She had given up on meditation, prayer, and even yoga a long time ago. Now, even as she tried to focus, all she could think about were rabbits: brown ones with floppy ears; white ones with black spots and twitching noses; big ones, small ones, cute ones, ugly ones; some were hopping, others eating carrots and chewing on grass. She even spotted a giant Easter bunny, complete with a basket full of painted eggs. As she watched the lumbering animal hop towards her, it opened its mouth to reveal several sets of razor sharp teeth. Two or three mauled rabbits hung from its lips, dripping blood and contorted grotesquely. Taylor shuddered at the thought and opened her eyes.

  Gabriel was staring at her oddly as if he had seen into her thoughts. “Not able to clear your mind, huh?”

  “You don’t wanna know,” Taylor said.

  “It gets easier the more you practice. Try this. Close your eyes again…” Obediently, Taylor snapped her eyes shut and waited for the furry freaks to reappear, but for the moment they had disappeared. Gabriel continued: “If you can’t clear your mind, you can think of things that have a similar effect. For example, try imagining yourself in a well-lit room. I’m the only other person there.”

  To her surprise, Taylor was able to conjure up the image. It was the hotel-like room that Taylor stayed in whenever she visited the Lair. She pictured herself sitting on the couch next to Gabriel. “Now, imagine there’s a bed in the room,” Gabriel said.

  “It’s already there. Hey…wait a minute…you’re not trying to seduce me in my thoughts are you?” Taylor asked, her eyes snapping open.

  Gabriel sighed. “No, Taylor. Can we continue?”

  Taylor stared at him for a few more seconds, trying to detect a lie. Finally, she closed her eyes and reimagined the picture that Gabriel had painted.

  Gabriel said, “Now watch as I turn off the lights. It is completely dark now.” Taylor saw the Gabriel-thought in her head stand up and walk to the wall. He flipped the light switch and all went black.

  “Okay,” Taylor confirmed.

  “Good. Now, think about feeling your way over to the bed in the dark. What do you feel?”

  Concentrating hard, Taylor thought about how she would stand up, reach with her arms, and take the three steps required to get to the bed. On step two, she felt a pain in her knees and then she was falling, falling, crashing, tumbling, hitting her head, and coming to a stop against the foot of the bed. “Ouch!” Taylor yelped.

  “What happened?” Gabriel asked, a high-pitched twinge of alarm creeping into his
voice.

  “Just my uncontrollable brain working overtime again. I tripped on something.” Gabriel laughed and Taylor said, “Shut the hell up.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” With sarcasm added, Gabriel said, “Okay, now pick yourself up and dust yourself off from your imagined fall, and then get into bed.”

  Taylor daydreamed how it would feel to clamber onto the bed and snake-crawl her way to the pillow. It felt awkward, but the bed was soft and warm and cozy. Weariness overcame her, as if she hadn’t slept for days. She could feel the overwhelming pull of gravity on every bone and muscle in her body.

  Gabriel said, “Now imagine falling asleep and dreaming about only good things that have happened in your past. Like birthdays, family holidays, first kisses, love, friends, that kind of thing.”

  Into Taylor’s head screamed an unwanted vision: She was in a car, in the backseat; someone else was driving. A woman—her mother, Nancy Kingston. Her mom was humming along to some old tune playing on the car radio. Taylor didn’t recognize the song. It was dark out, but her mother seemed wide awake, snapping her fingers and driving with one hand. The car approached a familiar T-intersection; the light was green. As they peeled through the crossroads and gradually turned left onto the adjacent road, something caught Taylor’s attention out the left window. A dark and sinister monster bore down upon the four-door sedan, staring at them with pale, gleaming eyes. Tires screeched; someone screamed; metal shrieked and crunched and ripped and tore. All was silent, silent, silent. And then knocking. On the passenger-side front window. Taylor turned her head. A teenage kid was pounding on the window. His bike lay tossed aside on the cement sidewalk. A witness to the accident. He was shouting, but Taylor couldn’t make out the words. Remembering her mom, Taylor climbed over the front consol. Her mother was slumped in the driver’s seat, her body pinned to the leather upholstery by a tangled mass of metal from her door. Flakes of shattered glass coated her like sprinkles on a cupcake. A deflated airbag served as a blanket, pierced in three or four places by plumes of metal. Then she saw the blood and her breath caught in her throat. There was so much blood. She realized her mom’s eyes were open and that she was staring. But when Taylor followed her gaze, she saw that she was looking at nothing; her eyes were blank, lifeless, unrepresentative of the previously full of life orbs that had once laughed, cried, reprimanded, and empowered. Her mother was dead. Again.