Chapter 13 – April 2026

Lamia

I saw a light in the sky growing brighter and felt anticipation heat my skin.

The Chrysolite angel had kept his word. Of course he had. What a chump.

I watched as he floated down in front of Nuriel, his vast wings blocking out the light of the moon and stars.

The dude knew how to make an entrance.

Nuriel was smiling, utterly clueless about what was happening.

“My brother!” he cried out. “It is so good to see you!”

But the Chrysolite raised his arm and punched Nuriel in the face, splitting his lip and knocking him backwards.

Red blood spilled across Nuriel’s mouth and his face was screwed up in pain.

“I am not your bother, mortal!” roared the Chrysolite. “You are part of this pestilence! And you shall die with them.”

I gotta say, it was pretty damn exciting.

The warrior angel glowed so brightly, utterly incandescent with range. Now that was worth waiting a millennium or two to watch.

I slid on my Aviators and put my feet up to enjoy the show. I mean, I did kinda, sorta feel for Nuriel. Yeah, he was so self-righteous and totally judgy, but that wasn’t his fault. He was created an angel so it pretty much went with the territory. And honestly, he had no clue that this was coming or how much the Chrysolite warrior hated him. It was what you might call a loaded deck. But hey, it’s all about the evil over here. I am a demon, after all. Twinges of guilt are so last century, and, let’s face it, 1999 was not the end-of-the-world apocalypse that I’d been promised.

Nuriel was still staring at the blood on his hand, his expression shocked. Slowly, his eyes travelled upwards, hurt radiating in his eyes. Not physical pain (well, maybe a little), but mental pain. And I gotta say, speaking from thousands of years of experience, mental pain is the worst. A body can be healed, but a wounded mind will carry the scars forever. And betrayal? Nah, you’re not coming back from that.

“Zophiel, my brother. Are you suffering? What is wrong? What ails you?”

Nuriel’s words were soft but his tone was unwavering. There he was, crushed like a beetle with its wings torn off and he was asking his tormenter if he was okay. Which made him either the dumbest angel ever created, or one ballsy former celestial being.

He climbed to his feet awkwardly, standing before the Chrysolite, utterly without fear.

“Yes, I suffer!” the Chrysolite roared, his voice shaking the buildings so hard that the windows shattered. “I suffer to see the squirming, shameful pestilence of humans, monstrous and loathsome as they pollute our Father’s creation. I weep tears of blood as they defile, defecate and desecrate wherever they go! I burn in agony to see their indefensible immorality, and I long to see the plague of people washed from the face of the Earth!”

Nuriel tilted his head on one side, absently wiping his split lip with his hand.

“I understand your righteous anger, my brother,” he said. “Humans are imperfect but they are also part of our Father’s plan. He finds them as bemusing as they are beautiful; as beguiling as they are flawed. Two months ago, I might have agreed with you, but now I have lived among them, I begin to see that their dichotomy, their dual natures and their Free Will make them wondrous.”

“They are vile, imperfect!”

“Yes, perhaps that is trued. But they are also capable of kindness, and more importantly, they are capable of change, of growth, of the possibility of perfection.”

I saw puzzlement in the Chrysolite’s eyes, even uncertainty, as he gazed at Nuriel.

My eyes narrowed as I stared at the two angels—or rather the bronzed warrior and the former-angel-wannabe. Who knew that the little goody-two-shoes was capable of making a solid argument and throwing the Chrysolite off of his game?

I needed to load the dice back in my favor.

So, I clapped my hands together in an ironic applause, and laughed loudly.

“Well, well, well, ain’t this a kick in the pants,” I said to the Chrysolite. “Are you so whipped that you’ll let this mortal talk to you like that? You know that since he became human, he’s been corrupted by them. He can’t help himself, can you, Nuriel? Been lusting after any female humans lately?”

He couldn’t stop the reddening that showed my words were straight to the mark.

The Chrysolite’s wings bristled with disgust.

“You shall die a mortal death along with the rest of the human plague,” he bellowed, his words cracking as loud as thunder.

He raised his flaming sword, and I swung my gaze towards Nuriel. But I frowned when I saw that he wasn’t moving, let alone cowering.

“If our Father desires my death, then I give it willingly,” he said, his quiet words soaring up to … well, that-place-high-up-which-shall-never-be-named-by-me.

“He desireth it not!”

The words rang out, a silvery bell within the darkness. And I whipped around to see that nosy, interfering angel, Anahita, gliding down to stand in front of Nuriel. Her silvery wings beat so fast that a great wind sprang up, pushing the Chrysolite backwards so he couldn’t stand. And then the skies cracked open and a torrent of water flowed down in a great river, the current sweeping the Chrysolite from his feet and out of sight.

Gotta say, it was pretty impressive stuff. Frankly, I didn’t know she had it in her. Hell, I was pissed. Impressed, but pissed.

I slunk out of sight, not wanting to be on the receiving end of a celestial dunking. Round two in the coming apocalypse could wait till another day.

Nuriel

“Anahita!”

My voice was shaky, weak and mortal to my own ears.

“What is happening?”

With a shake of her wings, the torrent of water ceased and the skies began to clear. I could see a sprinkle of stars and the gentle light of a crescent moon.

“Are you unharmed, Nuriel?”

“Yes.”

Then I touched my swollen lip.

“Mostly. Why did Zophiel attack me? What did he mean about by the ‘plague of people being washed from the face of the Earth’?”

Her wings shimmered in the moon’s soft light and her eyes glittered with unshed tears.

“I am returning home, Nuriel,” she said, her voice ineffably sad. “I have enjoyed my time here on Earth with you, but now I have been summoned home.”

“Why now?” I asked, my voice imploring.

She regarded me steadily, then finally spoke.

“Winter is coming.”

“That’s what Father told me in a dream, but what does it mean?”

She lifted one shoulder in an elegant shrug.

“The Lord says, ‘My thoughts are not like your thoughts. Your ways are not like My ways. Just as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts higher than your thoughts’.”

“So, you don’t know?” I sighed.

“I do not,” she said sadly, “but I do know this: ‘His word is a lamp to your feet and a light to your path’. Be careful, Nuriel,” and she began to grow translucent, fading away before my eyes.

“Don’t go yet, Anahita, I beg of you. Please stay, I need you!”

Her final words floated on the air, flute-like and divinely beautiful.

“The Lord bless you and keep you, Nuriel…”

She was gone and I was truly alone.

But then Forrester, Esther and Peggy came running out of the building.

“Rell!” yelled Forrester. “Are you okay, buddy? Oh, man! That’s some lip you have there! Did you get thrown to the ground when the earthquake hit?”

I blinked at him several times.

“Yes … the earthquake.”

“That was at least a 5.5!”

Esther leaned her body toward me and touched my face, her gentle fingers lingering by my swollen lip.

“No more than a 3.9,” she smiled at me. “But I think we should get some ice on that lip.”

She took my hand and steered me back toward the gym, looking at me curiously.

“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head? You’re looking a bit strange.”

“My man is always strange,” Forrester said with a grin. “Isn’t that right, brother?”

I didn’t know what to stay so I remained silent.

“I think he’s in shock,” Peggy whispered. “Maybe I should give him mouth to mouth.”

“He’s still breathing!” said Esther, frowning in confusion.

“Yeah, but I think it would help,” and Peggy wiggled her eyebrows.

“Hey!” snapped Forrester. “You’re my date.”

Peggy laughed and pouted at him.

“I’m only trying to help, baby. C’me on. They’re playing Sons of Legion: Fire Starter is my favorite song! Let’s dance.”

Forrester pulled me to my feet, propping me up as I wobbled back to the gym, catching me as I lurched forward.

Peggy brought me a cup of soda, then tugged on Forrester’s arm, dragging him back to the dance floor.

Esther watched them leave, then led me over to the table piled high with cans of soda, grabbing a handful of ice cubes and wrapping them in a serviette.

“Here, this will help,” and she pressed the ice against my mouth. “How does that feel?”

“Cold,” I mumbled, which for some reason made her giggle.

“I can’t believe everyone is just carrying on with the party,” she said. “But what’s a little earthquake when it’s the Blizzard Ball? Party on, right?”

“It is puzzling,” I agreed half-heartedly.

“Are you going to tell me that our ways are strange?” she said, and this time I recognised the teasing quality of her words.

“I do find it strange,” I admitted. “But I find it … admirable, too. They wish to enjoy every moment of their youth.”

This time she laughed out loud.

“You sound like a hundred years old when you say things like that, Rell!”

How could I explain? How could I tell her that her world was ending? That the Chrysolite clan had described humans as a plague, that our Father had warned me that winter was coming. How could I tell her anything? And if I could tell her, was it not the case that to live in ignorance was to live in bliss?

I looked across to where Peggy and Forrester were involved in a form of interaction that seemed more like vertical fornication than dancing. At least, to my inexperienced eyes.

Esther followed the direction of my gaze, winced and then smiled.

“That Peggy—she’s something else!”

I wasn’t entirely sure what she meant, but I had more immediate anxieties, fears that I could no longer discuss with Anahita.

“Esther, there’s something I must tell you. It’s important.”

When her eyes met mine, there was a wariness there that I had not seen before, a hint of sadness that I understood not.

“What’s that, Nuriel?”

“You know I’m not … from here?”

“I know. You don’t talk like you’re from around here.”

Esther’s voice was softer now. I looked up, realizing for the first time the depth of color in her startling eyes.

“How do I talk?” I mumbled. “I mean, how do I sound?”

Idiotic—that was how.

She laughed, natural and carefree. Was she laughing at me? I felt like she was laughing at me. I couldn’t help scowling.

“Other than like you’re from another planet?”

“I’m trying … to fit in … but it’s harder than I thought.”

“Why is it so hard?”

“The people here are so different. It’s different from what I thought it would be … I feel … different…”

“Why do you feel different?”

I bowed my head, wondering if I could tell her the truth.

“ ‘And you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free’,” I whispered.

She smiled, but I saw the confusion in her eyes.

“John 8:32,” she said. “What is it that you’re trying to tell me, Nuriel?”

I looked up, meeting her eyes.

“I’m an angel.”

Her eyes widened and then her brow crinkled with concern.

“Uh huh. Yeah, sure. Is that like a motorcycle club, because you don’t look like a biker, and you definitely don’t look like a Hell’s Angel.”

This was going to be harder than I thought.