The missing father

  I made it back to the office and found my name painted across the window in shiny metallic letters, just like they'd promised. I pulled out the key and unlocked the door as a truck pulled up to the curb.

  The thing had a boxy cab with a single door, It was a flatbed stacked with crates and boxes. Three men climbed out of that cab, squeezing through the door one after another. I had no idea how they all fit in there.

  I held the door open as they started unloading, and showed them the back room on the lower level where they could stack everything. But I took the shotguns and ammunition upstairs to the apartment myself. They worked fast, moving with the kind of efficiency that came from doing this every day. Before I knew it, the truck was rumbling away down the street.

  I closed the door and made my way back to the comfortable chair behind the desk. I Sat down and tried to reflect on everything that had happened today.

  The holsters dug into my ribs.

  I stood up and took them off, leaving the new 1911s inside, and hung them on a peg next to my coat on the rack in the corner, as shrugged the suspenders from my shoulders.

  I took a deep breath and fell back to the chair behind my desk.

  That's when she walked in.

  The door opened and a voice called out, asking if I was open.

  I stood up and hollered back to come on in.

  That's when she stepped into the room.

  Those eyes.

  Those same fucking eyes.

  How could I ever forget those green eyes?

  I stepped back. Fell into my chair. My heart pounded so hard I thought it would rip out of my chest. I felt the sweat as it ran down my face.

  "I'm sorry," a soft voice said. "I didn't mean to startle you. Are you open?"

  There, standing in the middle of my office, was a face that had haunted me for a hundred years.

  She wore a full habit. Black from neck to floor. White coif framing her face in a clean oval. Black veil falling to her shoulders. Rosary hanging at her hip from a simple belt.

  But it was her face that stopped my heart. Mid-twenties, maybe. Soft features. Pale skin with no makeup. And those eyes. Green.. The beautiful eyes that had looked down at me across the barrel of that shotgun before she pulled the trigger.

  I glanced down at my desk. Both Remiel and Azazel stood there, jaws dropped, just as surprised.

  "Are you Mr. Donati?" she asked again. "I can come back later if this is a bad time."

  Az snapped me out of it. "Jay, you have to say something to her. Jay, snap out of it!"

  I pulled myself together, and stood as I held my hand toward a chair. "No, it's fine. Please, sit down, sister."

  "Sarah," she said. "just Sarah." She moved toward the chair and sat in front of my desk.

  "Can I get you something? A glass of water? I'm sorry, I'm not fully moved in yet. I don't really have much."

  "I see that," Sarah said. She glanced at a pile of supplies and boxes that didn't fit in the back room and spilled into the hallway. I caught her looking at my Colts still in their holsters on the rack. I could tell that they made her nervous.

  I held my hands up gently. "You have nothing to worry about here. I'm no threat. I just have a dangerous line of work, you know?"

  My heart was still pounding in my chest. In the back of my mind, fear raged through my brain, waiting for the sound of that shotgun trigger.

  "Well, I hope I'm not disturbing you, Mr. Donati. And I don't know if you're taking on clients yet. But I thought I'd stop by and see if maybe you could help me."

  Her voice was soft. Kind. Nothing like I ever imagined.

  "I'm sorry, Mr. Donati. The way you're looking at me makes me feel like maybe we've met before."

  I pulled myself together again. "I'm sorry, sister. I haven't had a lot of opportunities to talk to a nun before."

  "Nice save, dumbass," Az said.

  Remiel walked across my desk, standing right in front of her, then turned and looked at me. "It’s her. She's the Nephilim. It has to be. She hasn't aged a day."

  "You can call me Sarah, if that makes you feel more comfortable. I'm not actually a nun yet."

  "Sarah," I said as I put on my best smile. I tried to lean back in my chair and calm myself. "How can I help?"

  She folded her hands in her lap. "I teach at the school across from St. Marys. Two of my students came to me three days ago. A brother and sister. Thomas is ten, Margaret is twelve." She paused. "Their father hadn't come home for two nights. They didn't know what to do, so they came to find me."

  I leaned forward. "How long has he been missing?"

  "Five days total," she said. "When the children came to me, I immediately contacted the police. They investigated that same day. They searched the house. Questioned neighbors." She looked down at her hands. "Yesterday they closed the case. They said there were no signs of foul play. No struggle. And that there was nothing missing from the house. It was as if he just..." She trailed off. "As if he just walked away."

  "What about their mother?"

  "She passed last year. Tuberculosis." Sarah's voice softened. "Their father was all they had left."

  "Tuberculosis," I repeated. That tracked for the time period. "And the police just gave up?"

  "They said there was nothing more they could do. Frank Weber was a grown man. If he chose to leave, that was his choice. They said at this point, if he does show up, they were going to charge him for abandoning the children." Her green eyes met mine, and I saw anger there. "The church is caring for Thomas and Margaret now. Temporarily, they said. But Mr. Donati, Frank was a good man. A devout man. He was struggling with the loss of his wife, yes. But those children meant everything to him. There is no world where that man would abandon them. None."

  "Mud," Az said quietly from the desk. "It's not a coincidence this guy vanishes while demons are crawling all over this town."

  "Emotional distress," Remy said. "Grief. Loss. If this man was vulnerable—"

  "—he'd be a perfect target for possession," Az finished. "Demons love broken people. Easy to get in. Easy to take over."

  I kept my eyes on Sarah. "Tell me about Frank. What did he do for work?"

  "He was a carpenter. He worked at the mill mostly, but did odd jobs around town when he could get them. He was trying to save money for the children's future." She looked down at her hands. "He was a good father, Mr. Donati. The kind of man who would go without so his children could eat."

  "When did you last see him?"

  "A week ago. Sunday. After mass. He seemed tired. Sad. But he smiled at the children. He told Thomas he'd take him fishing once the weather warmed up." Her voice cracked slightly.

  I sat back in my chair and thought it through.

  "The police searched his house?"

  "Yes. They said everything was in order. His coat was still on the hook by the door. His tools were put away properly." She paused. "Nothing disturbed. No sign of a struggle."

  "So he left in the middle of the night," I said. "Or early morning. Before the children woke up."

  "It would seem so."

  "Did he have any enemies? Anyone who might want to hurt him?"

  "No. Everyone in the parish knew Frank. He was quiet. Kept to himself mostly after his wife died. But he was kind. Helpful. I can't imagine anyone wanting to harm him."

  "Some Demon is riding that poor jerk like a carnival ride.” Az said, shaking his head slowly."

  "We need to find out which one," Remy added. "And fast. If he's been possessed for five days already—"

  "—he might not have much time left," Az finished.

  I looked at Sarah. Really looked at her. The woman who would kill me a hundred and five years from now. Who stood over me with that shotgun and pulled the trigger over and over again for a century while I was trapped in that loop.

  She was the other Nephilim in this town. The one the angels were hunting. The one those Principalities wanted to eliminate before her powers manifested.

  And now here she was sitting here in front of me, asking for help, she had no idea what she was. No idea what was coming for her. You know what, I couldn't save her husband and I couldn't save her kids from that horrible night but I sure as shit could save her now.

  "I'll take the case," I said.

  I could see the tension in her shoulders ease.

  "You don't know how happy I am to hear somebody say they're willing to help. The sisters and I have been down to the police station multiple times. We've tried asking around town, but we haven't been able to figure anything out."

  "Please, give me one second, Sarah."

  I got up out of the chair and made my way to the pile of supplies at the end of the hall. Dug through it for a moment until I found one of the small notepads I'd purchased from the hardware store.

  Sitting back down I looked at the desk for a moment and at the blank notebook frustrated at myself for not buying any pencils.

  Sarah smiled gently reaching into a small bag on her waist. “Please Mr.Donati use mine.” as she handed me one of the saddest looking pencils I think I'd ever seen.

  "Can you give me the address of their house? I'm going to go check it out myself."

  Sarah gave me the address. I jotted it down in the notepad. I asked more questions. Trying to get every piece of information I could about Frank, and his kids.

  We'd been talking for some time and when I glanced outside I could see that the sun had set. And the streetlights poured through the front windows.

  I stood up from the chair and reached over to help Sarah up.

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  "It looks like time got away from us a little bit, Sarah. I think I'm going to walk you home."

  "There's really no need, Mr. Donati."

  "Honestly, Mr. Donati, I'm only walking back to St. Marys. The clergy there will have a car to take me to the monastery."

  Remy's voice cut through my head. Urgent. "Jay, you cannot let her go to St. Marys by herself right now. Not with them hunting her."

  I got up and slid my shoulders back into the suspenders while reaching for my holsters. I pulled the coat down from the peg and put it on.

  "Then to St. Marys, Sister. I insist."

  "Very well, Mr. Donati."

  "Jay. Please. Call me Jay."

  Sarah smiled as I opened the door for her and we stepped out onto the sidewalk. I turned and looked down the road toward St. Marys.

  Sarah screamed from behind me.

  I spun around to see that one of the angels had her pinned against the front of my office. Slamming her into the window.

  I dove onto him without thinking and knocked him away from her.

  "Sarah, go inside now!" I screamed as I wrestled with her assailant.

  She hesitated.

  "Sarah, now!"

  His elbow slammed into the side of my face, and stars exploded across my vision.

  She opened the door and ran inside the office. I could hear her stumbling up the stairs to my apartment as a second man threw the door open and entered the building after her.

  The man on top of me turned and looked at the door. A moment of hesitation as he decided whether or not to stay with me or go after her as well.

  I took advantage of his hesitation. I called the Arcane blade from my inventory and drove it up under his chin and through his palate. Into his brain.

  His eyes glowed with golden fire.

  He rolled off me and stumbled managing to get on his knees as he looked at me with the blade still in his throat.

  I got to my feet and stared at the would-be assassin.

  He reached up to pull the blade out, but it disappeared from his neck and reappeared in my hand.

  I moved in again, and stabbed the fucker in the face. Just like I did that demon lord.

  I watched the light fade from his eyes as he let out a silent scream.

  Remiel screamed from my shoulder. "Nephilim, put the blade away now!"

  I called the blade back into my inventory. Grabbed the slain angel by his coat and collar and dragged him into the front of the building and closed the door behind me.

  Sarah screamed from the apartment.

  I pulled out my Colts and started up the stairs.

  "Mud, you should know those bullets are only gonna piss that thing off," Az said from my shoulder as I took the stairs two at a time.

  "Well, he doesn't need to know I have the Arcane blade yet, does he?" I said quietly.

  I followed the sounds of struggle through my apartment. Into the bedroom. The other angel was prying the door off my closet. Sarah huddled in the corner. Terrified. Hands up to protect herself.

  The angel pulled a long blade from his jacket. Raised it. Poised to strike.

  "Hey, fuckface!"

  The angel turned and saw me standing in the doorway with my 1911s drawn.

  I emptied both magazines into his chest.

  The smell of gunfire and cordite filled the room. I kept pulling the triggers as I approached. Both guns began to dry fire before I cleared the distance. I dropped them as he lunged at me.

  I moved to the side, barely avoiding getting stuck. I pulled the Arcane blade from my inventory and drove it into his back. Up into his chest.

  The angel's eyes flared. Golden light roared from his eye sockets and his mouth.

  I pulled the blade out.

  This time the angel took a couple steps back. Shrugged me off for a moment and squared off.

  To my horror, the blade he held reshaped itself. It grew longer and formed a short sword.

  I tried to catch my breath as I backpedaled toward the door.

  He raised the blade above his head.

  "You fool!" he screamed.

  The blade came down with supernatural speed.

  I found myself completely stunned when my own blade grew to match the threat.

  Both the angel and I stared at each other as I blocked his stroke.

  He took a step back. Raised his sword again.

  I reached into my pocket and pulled out the small revolver and emptied it into his face.

  The solid lead bullets didn't seem to hurt him much. But he raised a hand instinctively. Trying to protect his head. He let his guard down long enough for me to drive the Arcane blade into his chest. Running him through.

  Again, his eyes glowed. His head snapped back as golden light poured from his face. This time he stumbled before he crumbled down to his knees, and fell forward onto the floor, propped up on my blade for a moment.

  The blade disappeared and reappeared in my hand, letting the son of a bitch fall.

  I recalled the Arcane blade into my inventory. I was surprised to find it was the size of a small dagger again when it appeared in the window. I closed it and ran to the closet.

  "Are you hurt? Did he get you? Did he cut you?"

  She just looked at me. Her Eyes wide. Horror written across her face.

  "Sister, please. You have to tell me. Are you okay?"

  "I don't understand. Why would they attack me? Who are they? Who are you?" She said, real fear in her eyes. "The way that you moved.. You moved like he did."

  I checked her over as best I could while she was still on the ground in the corner of the closet. I didn't see any blood or obvious wounds. I made my way back to the middle of the room and grabbed my Colts. I slid them back into their holsters. But not before reloading each with fresh magazines.

  I turned around and reached my hand out to help her up.

  "Sarah, I'm going to tell you everything. But not while you're in the corner of my closet. Please. Come back downstairs with me. We need to lock the door. And there's something I have to do before more of them show up."

  She was still scared. I could see it. She reached up and took my hand. I helped her up, and she fell forward into me in an awkward embrace. I could feel her trembling.

  "It's okay. You're alright. I got you. You're gonna be fine.”

  I stopped for a moment startled by Azazel and Remiel's sudden warnings. Barely able to understand what they were trying to say as they both yelled over each other in a panic.

  "Sister, I need to ask you something. And you're not gonna like it. But please. Just for right now. I'm begging you. I need you to do something for me."

  Sarah looked up at me. Tears falling freely from her face.

  "What?" she said hesitantly.

  "I need you not to pray."

  She looked at me through a scared expression. Definitely not what she expected me to say.

  I helped her down the stairs and sat her in my office chair behind my desk.

  I walked over to the storage closet where my supplies were and grabbed a bag of salt, and a folding pocket knife. With a flick of my wrist I took the blade and. stabbed the corner. I held the heavy bag up as I dragged a line of salt across the front door and across the window. I continued the line all the way around the border of the downstairs office.

  "Sister, I have to ask you something. And I'm really hoping that by chance you might actually have some on you. Do you have any holy water?"

  "Holy water?" she said. "I have the tea I carry in my thermos."

  Remy cut in from where he floated next to my shoulder. "Ask her if it was blessed while she was within the church."

  "Sister, was the water used for the tea blessed in the church?"

  "Uh, I mean, yeah. But it's not what we would call holy water."

  "It doesn't matter," Remiel said. "If the water came from inside the church, it'll work."

  "Are you sure?" I asked Remiel.

  "Who are you talking to?" Sarah asked.

  I looked back at her. "It's okay. Can I have the tea, please?"

  She reached to her belt and pulled out a small thermos attached on a little hook. Pulled off the small lid and poured some of the liquid into it before handing me the cup.

  "This'll do. It'll have to."

  I walked up to the wall adjacent to the front door. I pulled out my knife and drew a cut across my palm, just deep enough to draw blood. Using my finger, I started tracing the ward. I tried to copy the damn thing as precisely as I could from the codex.

  “You don't have the juice for that right now!” Az warned.

  I took the cup of tea from Sarah and threw it on the ward when I was finished. Before the liquid could run down the wall, I slammed my hand against it.

  Nothing happened.

  I looked around the room and back to Sarah, who looked equally perplexed and horrified that I had just cut myself and started drawing on the wall in blood.

  "Of course nothing happened, you dumbass. You're not an angel," Az said.

  Remy appeared again. This time standing on the desk next to a terrified Sarah. "Nephilim. Look at the ward and ask the System to identify it for you. Like you did the blade the day we met."

  I looked at the ward. "Okay. What is this?"

  A System window popped into my vision.

  -

  ?? ARCANE SYSTEM: WARD ANALYSIS

  Analyzing...

  What stands before you was inscribed in salt and sealed with blood drawn from your own hand.

  This is a Celestial Barrier. No angel may cross while the line is unbroken. No Archangel. No Principality. No Power of Heaven shall pass this threshold.

  The ward cares nothing for intent. It does not distinguish friend from foe. All who bear the mark of Heaven are barred equally. The faithful and the fallen alike cannot breach this barrier.

  This protection extends only against Celestial presence. All Celestials will be stopped at the barrier.

  Warning: As the activation of this Ward requires more Mana than you currently have in your pool the remaining energy was pulled directly from your life force. Be warned Nephilim the use of blood for Arcane abilities can be dangerous or fatal.

  -

  I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

  "It worked," I said.

  Sarah stared at me from behind the desk. "What worked? What did you do?"

  I turned to face her. "I bought us some time."

  I leaned back against the wall, trying to catch my breath. Sarah sat in my office chair, staring at me with wide, terrified eyes.

  "Sarah, I know this is going to sound insane, but those men—they weren't men. They were angels. And they were trying to kill you."

  "Angels?" Her voice cracked. "Angels don't—they wouldn't—"

  "I know how it sounds. But I just saved your life. Please give me a chance to explain."

  She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "You moved like them. You fought like them. What are you?"

  I didn't have an answer for that. Not one that would make sense right now.

  “Az, what the Hell am I supposed to do with two bodies in my apartment?”

  Az appeared on the desk, his tiny form outlined against the window. "You're not gonna like this, Mud."

  “Try me.”

  "Pull them into your inventory. The same way you store the blade."

  I stared at him, feeling the exasperation on my face. “What?”

  "You heard me. Focus on the bodies. Will them into storage. The System will handle the rest."

  “That's insane!”

  "You got a better idea? Because leaving two corpses in here isn't exactly subtle."

  I looked down at the first body—the angel I'd killed in the street. His eyes were still open, lifeless and blank.

  I focused. Pictured the inventory window and willed the body to disappear.

  “It worked!”

  The corpse dissolved into nothing. A moment later, new items appeared in separate slots. A leather wallet. Some coins. A long, ornate dagger that looked similar to mine but with different markings along the blade.

  The second body went the same way. Another wallet. More coins. Another blade.

  "Oh God," I whispered. "I just killed two angels."

  "No you didn't," Remy said, materializing beside me. His voice was firm. "You killed their hosts. The mortal vessels they were riding. The angels themselves—their essence, their souls—they've been sent back to Heaven."

  "What's the difference?" I asked, my voice shaking.

  "The difference is everything, Nephilim." Remy floated closer. "Read the blade's description again. It said the weapon 'loosens the threads that bind soul to flesh.' When you strike an angel or demon with that blade, you're severing their connection to the mortal body. The host dies. The celestial being is expelled back to their realm."

  "So they're not dead?"

  "Not truly," Remy said. "In Heaven, they will reform. Manifest anew. It takes time—years, perhaps, by your mortal reckoning. But they will return."

  "You don't have the power to actually slay one of them yet," Az added. "Not permanently. That requires a lot more juice than you've got at Level Two. Right now, all you can do is send them home."

  I looked at the empty floor where the bodies had been.

  "Those two won't be back in the fight anytime soon. Az said. “And when they do reform, they won't remember the details of what happened. Just that they failed their mission."

  I looked at Sarah. "Come on. Let's get you upstairs."

  She followed me up to the apartment. I showed her the bed, gave her a blanket, and told her she was safe.

  "Those children," she said quietly. "Thomas and Margaret. Their father."

  "We'll find him," I said. "I promise.."

  I turned toward the couch. My legs felt like lead. Each step took effort I didn't have left.

  The room tilted.

  I tried to catch myself on the back of the couch, but my hand missed. My knees buckled, and I hit the floor hard.

  "Mr. Donati!" Sarah's voice sounded far away.

  I tried to push myself up, but my arms wouldn't cooperate. The exhaustion crashed over me like a wave.

  "You idiot, Mud," Az said from somewhere above me. "I told you that ward would drain you dry."

  Sarah knelt beside me. Her hands were on my shoulders, trying to roll me over. "Jay? Jay, can you hear me?"

  I could see her face was worried. She was scared. The white coif framing her features. Those green eyes wide with concern.

  "I'm okay," I tried to say. But the words didn't come out right.

  "You're not okay," she said. "You just collapsed. What should I do? How do I help you?"

  Sarah kept fussing over me. "You're bleeding," she said, touching my shoulder where one of the angels had clipped me. "And you're freezing. And you just—"

  The darkness pulled at the edges of my vision. The last thing I saw was Sarah's face hovering above me, her lips moving, saying something I couldn't quite hear anymore.

  Then everything went black.

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