Archangel Rafe (A Novel of The Seven Book 1) (27 page)

“Stop,” Tomasz shouted.

Yeah, who would think this guy would be her savior. Sweat broke out on her forehead and slicked her upper lip, from nerves, because heaven knew it wasn’t that hot in the barn. Her heart thudded in her chest, trip-trip-trip, and little pinpricks of light flickered in her vision.

“One at a time.”

“By rank,” a tall man said quietly. “That makes the most sense.”

“Get in line by your standing in the community.” Tomasz ordered.

Angelina’s mouth went dry at the line. She had healed Nathan’s little girl. She could do this. She could. And she would.

And suddenly a calm settled over her. She could do this. She would do this. Cowering would get her nowhere. She had the power. And she had the desire. Resolutely Angelina straightened her shoulders. And she had no intention of dying. She had children to look after.

“I’ll need time between each one to recover.”

The tall one stood over her and she remembered what Rafe said about regular healer Angels needing to touch at the heart nadis. Sweat limned her palms as she shakily reached toward his chest. “Put your hand over his heart nadis and watch what I do,” Angelina directed.

What if she couldn’t do this? She braced to take the negative energy into her and recycle it, for the clogged feel of his blood and the choked inability to breathe. Reflexively Angelina squeezed her mind closed as tentatively, slowly she placed her fingertips on the cold shirt over his chest. And Tomasz did the same.

“I can’t feel anything,” the man rumbled with disgust.

“You won’t feel any different. Give her a second.” Tomasz cautioned. His voice was hard as acrylic. If she didn’t heal the guy soon, she was in trouble.

With trepidation, Angelina slowly opened her senses. Suddenly a flood of information spewed through her brain. The man’s blood was thick with cholesterol. Hemoglobin and plasma glugged through his veins as she mentally imagined sweeping through his blood with a brush.

The obstructions chugged through his body, caught in her mental brush, weighed her down, and slowed her responses. With determination, she sped faster through the blood cleaning. If she could just get out of the morass of his blood she would feel better.

Once his blood was clearer, she repaired the internal organs through his body, then yanked her hand away from the big man’s chest. She fell back against the haystack chair, and imagined the cholesterol dissolving and flowing away from her body with a hiss.

The guy stood. “Thank you, Angel.” He bussed her cheek.

“Why don’t you all just go on Pravachol or one of those other medicines?” she gasped, and barely held back a moan of discomfort.

“Traditional Statins don’t work on their physiology,” Tomasz muttered and shook his head as if trying to clear it.

Angelina hoped by talking she could divert her mind from the long line of people waiting for her. How would she ever heal all these people? One at a time. She clasped her hands together to circle the energy in a loop through her body. With each rotation she felt a little better.

The next guy threw himself down next to her and reached eagerly for Angelina.

“Not yet. I need a few minutes.” She flinched. “My body needs time to recover.”

He nodded and sat patiently while Angelina cycled the energy through her body. As if he couldn’t wait any longer, the guy grabbed her hand, and shoved the palm flat against his chest. “Please.”

Without the time to prepare, she was thrown into the morass of his bloodstream. She’d already managed to dissolve the gunk from the last guy, but her defenses were low. Angelina swallowed back bile. Nausea threatened to erupt from her body as the healing assaulted her senses. She concentrated on the cholesterol flowing through his body. He was not as affected as the first guy, but the build-up of plaque and fat was still fairly high.

“Give me another minute.” The pain and the sluggishness started to overtake her. But as if her mind was caught in the grip of the healing, she repaired the organs.

“Thank you, Angel.” Her hand fell from the man’s chest as he jumped up.

The third man grabbed her hand and she quickly blocked her body’s instinctive urge to heal. She had to control the process, just like Rafe taught her. “I need more time,” she protested. “This is stupid. If you kill me this way, I won’t be able to fix the rest of the group.”

“I don’t know how much you can take. I just learned how to heal myself and I am not nearly as strong as you are.” But Tomasz shoved the man back. “Give her, us, time to recover.”

The next ten people went relatively well. Angelina healed and then regenerated her power. But the line of people who wanted to be healed continued to grow and she could feel her energy waning.

The next man threw himself down on the hay bale and grabbed her hand, trapping her fingers against his chest. More of the killing fat and plaque loaded into her system. Her thoughts became more stuporous and holding up her head was near impossible. As if she were encased in a cement block, she couldn’t move her arms and legs, couldn’t think past the overwhelming pain. These people had blood clogged far beyond what she had seen before. If they had inter-married, perhaps the defect was even more pronounced?

The repair of his organs took a hideously long time.

“I understand what to do now,” Tomasz said with triumph even as his body slumped against a hay bale.

She needed more time in between healings. Angelina lay against the scratchy hay, her head lolling. “Need more time.”

The next woman waited, restlessly, her foot tapping on the hay that lined the floor as she clutched a little girl’s hand. “Please, let my daughter go next in my place. My husband,” she swallowed and blinked back tears, “died in the fire.”

Angelina’s heart broke at the look of devastation on the woman’s face. How could she turn the grieving woman down? These people weren’t bad. They just wanted to be healthy like everyone else. This mother was no different than Angelina. She wanted to protect her daughter. The Angelic Realm was wrong about the Nephilim.

“Need rest. Just a few minutes.” As her lids drifted shut, she closed out the people in the room. She would be fine with just a little more time in between healings. She could already feel her energy levels rising.

The forbidding, androgynous voice floated down from above. “Give her some room.”

Someone kicked the hay bales. “Your daughter can’t go next, it’s my turn.”

“You’ll get it.” Tomasz had taken charge again. “But give her a few minutes to re-charge.”

Angelina’s brain lumbered along, concentration difficult. “This won’t heal your larger problem.” Fatigue slurred her words.

“Explain.” Tomasz pushed the people back.

“The virus attacks the Archangel DNA.” She watched the motes dance merrily in the filtered sunlight, such an odd contrast to her somber words. “So it will continue to attack the Nephilim.”

“A slight miscalculation.” Somehow she could see what the voice meant, the images in her head of thousands of strong Nephilim taking control of the earth. That had been the plan. Instead something went wrong and the Nephilim were dying.

“Pretty big miscalculation.”

“We merely need to adjust the larger plan,” the voice said icily. “Tomasz, can you do this on your own now?”

The voice. Almost hypnotic with its intensity and the distorted rumble of sound. Was that Remiel? Who was he, it? Larger plan? What plan? Could this have to do with Uri?

“I am not as strong as her. It will take me a lot longer. Days.”

Angelina ignored Tomasz and focused on the voice. “What plan?”

“I will rise again. When the time is right,” the voice roared. Angelina was bombarded with images of regular humans dying. But she shoved those aside and thought about how they had gotten to this point.

“You wanted Uri in prison?” Was that part of the plan?

“A house divided is a house that falls.”

Angelina swore only she heard the whisper. “But for now, those who know too much must fall with them.”

Tomasz jerked. He had heard it, too.

“Use her.” The voice commanded the people who waited patiently.

As if he compelled them, five leapt at her, “Me next.” They grabbed at her.

Instinctively, Angelina blocked the
Vis viva
from healing but she didn’t know how long she could hold off.

The anticipation coming from the loft was nearly palpable, as if the entity knew something she didn’t. Her mind began the healing without thought, without her permission. She could see what needed to be done and her physical responses were so far gone she couldn’t control her motor function. Her brain was so overloaded that she couldn’t stop the healing process any more than she could will herself to stop breathing.

She was doomed.

Rafe!
She called to him once again. He needed to protect her children.

And still she resisted the groping hands, and tried to close her mind. More of the mob surged toward her. There was no way to stop them. Hands touched her, tugging at her arms, legs.

“You can’t make me.” Angelina sounded like her son. Her children. And then she realized she was appealing to the wrong entity. “This won’t stop the virus from spreading,” she cried to the crowd accosting her.

Suddenly she was flat against the barn wall, her arms pinned beside her head, wrists exposed.

One of the larger slivers from the floor shot through the air and slammed through the Angel mark on her forearm. At first, she felt nothing. Then searing heat radiated out from the Angel mark, and spread insidiously. It crept along her veins, moving inexorably closer to her heart.

FORTY

Rafe’s pain and rage didn’t last. The need to see her, talk to her, convince her burned in his blood. He couldn’t reconcile his Angelina with Nathan’s words. Not anymore. A week ago maybe. But not now.

Rafe reached for her, searching the globe for her energy. But he couldn’t find her life force anywhere. He translocated to Brandt, Lina and Janine but they hadn’t had any contact with her. He visited her house and lay on her bed and wondered where in the hell she was.

He didn’t understand it.

It was as if she’d vanished. And that wasn’t right. She couldn’t be completely gone.

The hope and renewal of faith he’d thought destroyed by her defection came roaring back. She had to be out there somewhere. But he needed help to find her.

Rafe translocated to the Realm prison. Uri was in the minimum security section. The cells looked like small Archangel chambers and were protected by an energy field. The entire Universe was constructed of energy. The prison used an energy disrupter to prohibit the Realm inhabitants from escaping. The disrupter effectively rendered everyone impotent against the grid.

“Uri.” Rafe pounded futilely on the electric grid wall.

Shit.

He had tried everything he could think of to locate Angelina but she was gone. Usually all he needed to do was connect with his Angel’s psyche and he could pinpoint their location. But her mind was missing. And the lack of her presence was causing him to go a little crazy.

Suddenly he realized he’d forgotten a very important piece of information. There was a traitor in the Realm.

“What’s wrong?” Uri called from inside the cell. He couldn’t see Rafe but he could hear him just fine.

“I need your help.” Rafe pressed his palms flat against the energy field. The electricity burned his skin.

“What is that smell?” Uri bitched.

“Me.” Rafe laughed harshly. “If I’m on fire, they have to come check right?”

“Are you crazy?” Uri shouted.

“Angelina is gone,” Rafe said starkly.

“What do you mean, gone?”

“I can’t find her anywhere.” Rafe’s heart thudded so hard the walls of his chest were shaking. “I’m afraid the traitor took her.”

The sickness that accompanied that thought threatened to explode from him.

“You love her.” Uri sounded surprised.

“Of course I do, you idiot.” Rafe dropped his head into hands. “I didn’t contemplate breaking the Realm rules for a simple roll in the sack.”

“I, I should have realized,” Uri stammered.

Rafe snorted. “I have to find her. Save her. Angelina is
un ange avec le pouvoir déviant
. She can’t be dead.”

Nora shimmered to corporeal form.

“You heard me?” Rafe snarled.

She glanced furtively at Uri’s cell. “Ah, I heard you needed counsel.”

“I don’t freaking need counsel,” he snapped. “I need to go find her.”

“What if it is a trap?” Nora pressed her palms together.

“I’ll be careful.”

Nora sighed. “I cannot let you go alone.”

“Fine,” Rafe said. “Let me take Uri.”

“Why Uriel?”

“Because,”
he is my friend.
But even more important, “They engineered his imprisonment. For some reason, they don’t want him to be able to use his powers.”

Nora was quiet, as if weighing the validity of his words against the knowledge that they had compiled about their enemy. Finally she answered, “I believe you are correct.”

“I’ll be able to bind the fallen if that is indeed who has her,” Uri added.

“Let’s go.”

“There is danger in this path. For both of you.”

Rafe refuted, “And as long as she is safe, I don’t care.”

He finally understood the human compulsion to protect their own. To put the needs of one above the needs of the many. “I will do anything to save her.”

“You would sacrifice your own existence for love?” Nora asked softly.

“I already have,” Rafe replied. “I finally understand what you tried to tell me when this whole thing began. I understand humans better. I would level worlds to keep her safe.”

“You picked a most unreasonable time to come to that understanding.” Nora nodded. “So be it.”

“Thank you.” Rafe bowed deeply to honor Nora and her decision. “I am in your debt.”

The walls of the grid disappeared from Uri’s cell. Uri held still, staring at Nora, neither of them speaking, time suspended.

“Be safe,” Nora whispered. Even in his haste to leave, Rafe was pretty sure she meant Uri.

“Where are we going?” Uri asked.

The walls of the grid. The energy that held Uri in place had disintegrated. Suddenly Rafe knew how to find Angelina. “We need to follow her energy trail.”