Camael's Battle
Camael's Battle
Angelic Hosts Series, Book II, Episode 3
The old woman lay on a worn-out bed that sagged in the center. She was covered with three thick blankets. Her home was a hovel. It looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in quite some time. However, it was somewhat orderly. Trash was piled up by the back door in the kitchen. The bags were tied as if the old woman meant to carry them out, but for some reason, probably her poor health, did not. Cam ignored the clutter and went to stand by her bedside.
Her breathing was shallow. The faintest puffs of air passed through her wrinkled, dry lips. Her closed eyes were sunken in her face, and her long, gray hair was spread out in unbrushed clumps on her pillow. A glass of water, half-full, sat at her bedside. Cam picked it up and sniffed. It was at least two days old. That meant the old woman had been lying here at least that long on her own. He could hear her heartbeat, a slow, dull thud plodding along. He knelt and picked up her hand holding it in his own. Her skin was paper-thin, and he could see her blue veins. The fingers were long and slender, and her palms were rough, evidence that she’d worked hard her whole life.
He prayed.
“So, you’ve come for me.”
Cam glanced up and saw the old woman’s eyes peering at him. She squinted, trying to focus. Cataracts made her almost completely blind, yet she was able to pinpoint him with her surprisingly accurate gaze. The blue of her irises was faded to watered-down gray, and cloudy spots indicated the damaged areas of each cornea. Her voice was frail. She could only whisper, but his hearing was sharp.
“Yes, Elia. I’ve come.” Cam smiled, radiating the warmth and love that resided within him.
“I was beginning to wonder…” Her lips quirked at the corners. She still had a smidge of spirit left in her yet.
“Never fear, old woman. You’re not alone. He is watching you, and soon, I’ll deliver you directly to His hand.”
She sighed. “As promised.”
Cam cocked his head. “You’ve encountered us before?”
She tried to nod; the movement barely detectable. “Oh, yes. Many years ago.”
Cam waited, rubbing her hand.
“One such as you, when I was just a girl, came one evening. He saved me. My father was not kind. He believed harsh punishments were his Godly right as a Christian, that violence instilled submission. And on one of those occasions, an angel appeared and wrapped his great wings around me. He said not to despair, for my real father loved me, and waited for me in heaven.”
Cam had heard similar stories throughout the millennia. Individuals hand-picked by the Almighty for special purposes, strong humans with a destiny.
“I asked him to please take me to him, and he said it was not yet my time, that I had things yet to do, but he would make sure I was watched over.”
She coughed, and Cam placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her. He summoned fresh water with a thought and lifted the glass to her lips. She took the smallest of sips and lay back, exhausted.
“I tried to do as bid. I lived. I married. I had four children and nine grandchildren, and twenty great-grandchildren, and even four great-great-grandchildren. I don’t know where they all are now. Most are already passed. I spent my life in the church, raised my children in faith. It was a good life, but nothing extraordinary. And I’ve lived so long. Too long. I’m so tired.”
She closed her eyes and rested, falling back into the sleep that lulls the dying making their passage through to the other side easier.
Cam reflected inwardly. It sounded quite normal, her life. He could see she was a good lady. Her aura, though weak, was a softly glowing white. The purity of it clearly showing her heart and soul to be free of evil.
Her soft voice reached his ears again. “I don’t think I did whatever it was I was supposed to do.”
Cam smiled. “But you did. You lived as He commanded. You were a good wife, mother, grandmother, and you were faithful to Him. That is all He asked of you. That is why He wishes to see you, his daughter, as soon as you let go of this body.”
“But how do I let go? I don’t know how.” She spoke with eyes closed.
“Do not fret. It will happen all in its own good time, and I will be here with you. You are not alone, Elia. You are loved.” He patted her hand, and she smiled, slipping back into a dreamless state.
The hours passed thusly, in silence. The old woman slept on, and Cam noted that his phone had yet to ring. He worried and wondered if Hannah was okay, but at this moment, he could do nothing. It was his duty to stay with Elia until she shed her mortal body, and then he must escort the lady to the throne. He must be patient.
***
“Who are you? What do you want from me?” Hannah struggled against the ropes binding her to the stone platform. She lay on her back, the hard surface unforgiving to her aching body. The winged man that flew her to this place paced the length of the cavern ignoring her questions and pleas. She eyed him as he passed her left side, noting once again the long, black silky wings that ran down his back. Wings!
She stopped pulling on the ropes, giving herself a moment of rest. She was exhausted, and she desperately wanted to sleep. Her pregnant body demanded it, but she couldn’t allow herself to go unconscious here. She had no idea what was going on or why. Fear coursed through her, and she didn’t know what to do. Finally, she asked the only question that hadn’t yet come rushing out of her.
“Am I crazy or do you really have wings?”
Dagon stopped pacing. He turned to look at the human woman. Despite his best efforts to wipe her memory of their flight, he had not succeeded. Stranger still, she could see his wings. Only supernatural creatures and other angels could see them, and here she was, a human, fully aware and eyeing his feathers. It must be the child she carried. Only a Nephilim would have that ability. It must be helping her now.
“You are not what you seem.” The Dark One approached her, pulling the sunglasses down from atop his head to cover his eyes. Her scent sickened him, and he stopped before he got too close.
Hannah’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean I’m not what I seem? I seem to be human. You, on the other hand, are a bird man!”
Dagon chuckled, surprised by her ignorance. “A bird man, did you say?”
“Well, aren’t you? You have wings. You fly. What else would I call you?”
He smirked. “How about an angel?”
Now Hannah chuckled, but it was with derision. “You’re no angel.”
“And why would you say that? Do I not fit the description? Tall, handsome, winged?” He spread his wings on the last word, showing them off.
“Angels don’t peacock.” She tried to suppress her awe at the wingspan he presented. She just couldn’t believe what her eyes were telling her, what was clearly in front of her face.
“Peacock?” His dark eyebrow rose above the rim of his shades. “Oh, strut. Show off. I get it. Well, I have news for you. They do.” He turned away and stepped over to the entrance of the cavern looking out but continued to speak. “So, you have no idea? You haven’t, in all these months, figured it out? You can see wings. Surely you’ve noticed his?”
Now Hannah was just getting frustrated with him beating around the bush. “Figured what out? What are you saying? Whose wings?”
“You don’t want to believe I’m an angel, yet you’ve been spending every day with one for the past eight months.”
Hannah stilled. Her mind spun, and she ran laps around her head trying to put the pieces together. Slowly, she spoke. “Do you mean my son? Jack?” She asked tentatively, hopefully.
Dagon laughed. “Your son? No. Your son died.” He shrugged showing callous disregard for the pained look that passed over her face.
“There is only one other person I’ve been with these past months, and Cam surely is no angel. He’s a hospice nurse. He helps the dying.”
A slow smile spread across Dagon’s lips. “A hospice nurse. That’s almost apropos, I suppose. Yes, Cam, or Camael, does help the dying, but not in the way you apparently think.” He turned back to Hannah and walked a few steps closer. “No, human. He delivers the souls of the departed,” he looked skyward mockingly, “to heaven.”
Hannah’s mouth dropped open. “That’s…no. He doesn’t.” Disbelief rolled around inside her.
Dagon braved getting closer, holding his breath. “It’s not just possible. It’s fact. He delivered Jack when the boy’s body wore out. How do you think Camael found you?”
Hannah was stunned. If what this winged lunatic was telling her was true, and the evidence standing before her seemed to indicate that it was, then she’d fallen in love with the angel who took her Jack away. Weren’t angels supposed to be good? This one said he was an angel, and yet she knew he was evil. It radiated off him and was clear in his actions. He’d kidnapped her, and she still didn’t know why.
“I see the beginning of understanding and acceptance in your eyes.”
Hannah, feeling angry, replied. “Really? Because I see nothing at all in yours. You keep them covered like a coward!”
Dagon sucked in a breath. Were it not for his orders, he’d backhand the insignificant human for her lack of respect. Instead, he reached out and put his hand on her protruding belly, the whelp inside began to kick violently causing her pain. “I wear the sunglasses because your kind offend my eyes.”
“Ah! Stop touching me!” Hannah squirmed, the baby rolled around inside her causing no end to her discomfort and agony.
Dagon grinned, then lifted his hand away. The child immediately calmed. Hannah lay panting, beads of sweat dripping from her forehead into her hair.
“What do you mean ‘my kind’? Humans? You don’t like humans?”
He looked down at her. “Humans with child are bad enough. Humans impregnated by celestial beings are intolerable. Your light is painful to behold, and your stench, sickening.” He curled his lip and flared his nostrils.
“I don’t stink.” Hannah didn’t even know why his saying so would bother her. It was inconsequential compared to the fact that she was tied up and at the mercy of a crazy bird man.
“You do. All pregnant human women give off an odor. To my kind, it’s offensive.”
She looked at him. “You’re crazy. You know that, right?”
“And you’ve yet to fully accept what I’m telling you to be true. But you will.”
“Maybe. But only if you tell me why the hell I’m here.”
Dark eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Temper, temper. Hell, indeed. That’s actually humorous.”
“What? Why? Why is my cursing funny to you?”
Dagon pointed to the three ‘bird men’ that just alighted through the cavern opening. The first was nearly seven feet tall, burnished black and bald-headed. His eyes blazed as he blinked repeatedly in the manner humans do when something in the air is irritating them. The second was not quite as tall, but broad, swarthy, and nearly as dark of complexion as her kidnapper. He, too, blinked. The third was wearing shades. His long, blond hair reminded her of Cam, but his face held none of Cam’s charm or light. He appeared expressionless, intimidating.
“Because, Hannah Adams, hell is exactly why you’re here.”
Dagon spoke to the first two men. “Cover your eyes, you fools, lest you be permanently blinded and spend eternity flying into walls.” They manifested sunglasses and put them on. Dagon looked down at her once again seeing the terror in her eyes. “Yes. Hell is why you’re here. You are the vessel, and your whelp is the key.”
She was afraid to ask but had to. “The key to what?” She desperately wanted to shield her belly, protect her baby.
“To unlocking the pit of a thousand years, of course. You and that brat will be the very means of bringing Lucifer back to us, back to his rightful place. After we unlock the pit, hell will reign once again on earth, and in heaven. It’s going to be glorious.”
Hannah saw the zeal on his face even though she couldn’t see his eyes. It rang in his voice. He truly believed what he was saying, and after the arrival of the three at the opening of the cave, she was starting to believe it too. Anxiety and fear flooded her body, and inwardly, she prayed. She prayed for help, for God, for Cam. She prayed for the safety of her unborn child. She prayed as she hadn’t prayed since before Jack died. By all evidence, they intended to kill her and the baby, sacrifice them both for their crazy religious beliefs. She didn’t know what to do. Exhaustion screamed in her muscles and her mind. It took over for her as her vision blurred, tunneling. The world around her grew dark and quiet as she fainted, slipping away into unconsciousness.