Sophie's Wish
Angelic Hosts Series, Book 3, Episode 6, Part 1
Demon hunting and new questions…
Charmaine showed up early, determined to help Nanette question the girl so they could fill out the information the lawyer needed to track down Cecilia’s family. The sooner they knew something, the better. She helped with breakfast, discovering that Cecilia loved waffles. Sophie and her friend chatted all through the meal while the birds in the cage chirped, Henry the turtle stared out at them from his tank, and Toulouse sat in the kitchen window, tail swishing as he watched the world go by outside.
Once the dishes were cleared, Nanette and Charmaine sat down at the table with Cecilia and began the process of filling out the questionnaire. When she stumbled over words and descriptions, Charmaine held her hand and helped her. In the end, the information collected was rather sparse, but it was enough for an attorney to make inquiries. He would be able to locate a birth certificate if nothing else, and she did know the name of her paternal grandmother so they would be able to locate her. Charmaine was both elated and sad. The more time she spent with the little girl, the further Cecilia wiggled into her heart.
Charles entered the kitchen for his second cup of coffee. “All finished, ladies?”
Nanette folded the paper and handed it to Charmaine. “Let us know as soon as you and Jean-Luc hear back from your lawyer.”
Charmaine slipped into her coat and tucked the paper into her purse.
“I will.” She turned back to Cecilia. “Don’t you worry, Ma Cheri. All will be fine. We will find your family.”
Cecilia bit her lip. “But what if you don’t? What will happen to me?”
Charmaine’s heart skipped a beat. She hugged the girl close. “Then we will be your family. I won’t let anyone or anything hurt you, okay?” She kissed her copper curls.
Nanette and Charles watched the scene unfolding before them, and then looked at each other.
Charmaine Bertrand released the girl, stood, and blinked rapidly trying to hide the tears threatening to fall from her brown eyes. “Okay, I’m off to deliver this.” She patted her purse. “Au Revoir.
***
The neighborhood in Belleville was dismal. A quick call to Cassiel, the Keeper of Sorrow and Tears, afforded Gabriel and Rafael the location to a tenement owned by one Maurice Morel. From his perch in the stars, Cassiel was able to track the aural signature of a demon in that area. His keen vision located the building, and he relayed that address to Gabriel.
It was mid-morning, and snow began to fall. Despite the poverty of the people residing in the neighborhood, there were still decorations in the windows. Most were homemade by children; colorful paper cutouts of Christmas trees, snowmen, and wreaths all made in school using construction paper, glitter, and glue. Still, it was cheerful amid the decay of the surrounding buildings and unkempt grounds. Hope amid the squalor.
A Christmas carol reached their ears coming from one of the apartments above. But it was the top floor apartment that had their undivided attention.
Apparently, Monsieur Morel converted that level into a penthouse of sorts for himself, a place where he could look down upon his desolate and disparaging domain.
“Shall we?” Rafael asked. He stood next to Gabriel. Both had their eyes focused on the open French doors of the brick balcony.
“Every single unit in this building barely has a window, and yet he has a balcony with French doors. Looks like he enjoys lording it over the poor.” Gabe’s nostrils flared as righteous indignation filled him.
“Anything to cause misery. Demons feed on it. That’s bad enough, but when they kill, well, when they kill, it’s time for them to go back to hell where they belong.” Rafael’s feathers ruffled as his wings began to flap.
Gabriel followed. They were on the balcony within seconds, and boldly entered the demon’s lair.
Inside, the large room was dank and dark.
“It stinks to high heaven!” Rafael covered his nose.
Gabriel sniffed a few times, and then growled deep in his massive chest. “It’s the same stench I noticed at Genevieve Robillard’s home. This is the demon responsible for her death.”
Anger filled Rafael, and his handsome face morphed into a mask of fury. Confirmation that Morel was his love’s murderer was all he needed. He would tear this demon limb from limb, showing no mercy. But there was one thing he needed before delivering the death blow, one piece of information.
A scurrying sound, like that of a rat running through trash, alerted them. Gabriel produced his axe, a weapon made of ancient teakwood and polished steel. He focused on the location of the noise.
Rafael raised his hand and invoked an incantation, three words older than any language known to mankind, and a glow emanated from his palm illuminating the room.
A loud hiss filled the silence.
In the corner, sitting in a pile of filth, was the demon, Maurice Morel. His form was human, but his eyes glowed red, and his teeth were elongated, sharply pointed, and rotted.
“Who dares enter my home?” It demanded, blinded by the holy light.
“Judgement has come for you, demon!” The deadly statement boomed from Rafael’s mouth.
The figure rose, holding a hand up to shield its eyes. It blinked, and then sneered.
“Archangels! What business do you have with me? I have broken no rules!”
“Lies fall easily from your lips, demon.” Gabriel stepped forth hefting the axe.
The demon shrank back. “No lies. Morel has kept to himself.” It smiled, a hideous caricature of human expression.
Rafael could see the putrid colors swirling around the creature.
Anger overrode his disgust. “Your stench makes a liar of you. It was detected in the remains of the home of Genevieve Robillard.”
Morel hissed, and began looking around them, seeking a way past to escape. Rafael rushed forth with great speed and pinned the demon to the wall, his hands wrapped around the foul beings’ neck.
“Why did you kill her?”
“She’s but one puny human,” it choked out.
“And Catherine Robillard?” The angel squeezed harder.
Surprise appeared in the red eyes. “Who told you? How do you know?”
“Her daughter!” Rafael roared the words.
The red eyes squinted, and the expression became speculative. “The child. Where is my accuser?” He looked around past Rafael.
“You will never find her. You won’t live long enough.”
Panic filled the demon. “I only wanted a taste. Just one little taste. She’s a hybrid. Hybrids are so tasty, so delicious!”
Gabriel growled, hefting his axe, but Rafael stopped him from swinging. “Wait!”
Gabe ceased, comically frozen in place with an incredulous look on his face. “What are we waiting for? You heard him. He’s an Ale demon, a threat to children everywhere.”
“Patience, Gabriel. I still have a few questions.” Rafael turned back to the demon. “Tell me, why have you targeted the Robillard family?”
It squirmed, clearly unwilling to answer. Rafael smiled, but it wasn’t friendly. He held the demon’s neck by one hand and used the other to force his left arm high against the wall. “You enjoy this human form, don’t you? I wonder what poor sot you stole it from. Gabriel, his hand, please.”
The demon screamed, but it was too late. Gabriel’s axe severed the hand from the arm in one clean swing.
“I will remove your parts one at a time unless you answer my questions,” Rafael informed him.
Morel screamed and panted, then spat at the angel. “Why should I answer you? You’re going to kill me anyway.”
“Your death is up to you. Slow and excruciatingly painful, or quick and painless. Your choice.” When he took too long, Rafael glanced over his shoulder. “His leg, Gabriel.”
“No!” Morel kicked and fought but could not break the hold Rafael had on his neck. He remained pinned to the wall, his left arm bleeding profusely. “It was one of your own, but I don’t know the name! I swear it. I don’t know his name! He paid me well, said he wanted the girl.”
“What did he look like?” Rafael pressed for the answer.
“I never saw him. He sent a messenger, a low-level demon called Bart.”
“What did he want with the girl?”
“I don’t know!”
Rafael nodded to Gabriel. The axe cut through bone separating Morel’s lower leg below the knee. The shouts and screams echoed off the walls of the large living room.
“Painful, isn’t it?” Rafael slapped him to make him stop screaming. “Now answer me. What did he want with the girl?”
“The prophecy! The prophecy, he said! That’s all I know. That’s it!” Morel hissed, spat, and screamed.
“I believe you.” Rafael dropped him to the floor where he scuttled back into the corner like a cockroach.
“What prophecy is he referring to?” Gabriel asked, ready to wield his axe.
Rafael walked to the center of the room. “It’s quite old, ancient. I haven’t even heard it mentioned in more than five thousand years.” He paused. “It concerns the second coming.” He looked at Gabe.
“What about her?” He knew Rafael meant Sophie.
“A powerful alliance between the new messiah and an angelic disciple. Should they meet, it is prophesied they will spell the end of hell and all those who reside in the underworld. Their alliance will herald in peace on Earth.”
Gabriel had not heard this one. Information was given out on a need-to-know basis, and only those who needed to know…knew. It was obvious Rafael was meant to hold this knowledge. His role in siring the bloodline that birthed the angel hybrid, Cecilia, was key. But the implication was clear. The entire realm of Fallen and demons would be seeking out both Sophie and Cecilia with the intent of killing one or both. Evil would stop at nothing to survive.
Gabe looked down at Morel who lay moaning and cursing them. “What shall we do with him?”
Rafael turned. “Well, he did answer my questions.”
“No!” It began to scream knowing its time had run out.
“So now a quick death.” Gabriel flipped the axe and caught it.
“Not yet.” Rafael reached down and grabbed Morel’s shirt in both hands, hoisting him up. He threw the demon against the wall, then swung his fist, smashing it into his face.
“That’s for my son!” he shouted.
“I know not of your son!” Morel screamed back.
“Erik Robillard. About eight years ago! Think back, demon!” Rafael shook him.
“That wasn’t me! I didn’t bring harm to the Robillard woman’s son.”
“Then who?” Rafael had lost all patience.
“Who knows? Perhaps the one who hired me? I don’t know!” Spittle dripped down Morel’s chin.
“He’s no longer useful,” Gabriel said.
“You’re right. And I did make a promise.” Rafael lifted Morel into the air and walked toward the French doors.
The last anyone ever saw of the wicked landlord was his tortured form flying off the top floor of the building. His screams could be heard for nearly a mile before he slammed into the broken cobbles on the dilapidated street below.
Dear Readers, welcome to Book 3 in the Angelic Hosts series, Sophie’s Wish.
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