Sophie's Wish
Angelic Hosts Series, Book 3, Episode 5, Part 1
The new messiah revealed…
Respite House at 17 rue Albert Bayet was barely visible through the fog rolling in that evening. A tall, dark figure wearing a hooded sweatshirt and blue jeans ducked under the overhang and entered the building. He kept his head down as he passed the first-floor nursing station rounding the corner to the long-term care wing. The two nurses sitting behind the desk never looked up from their paperwork as the late-night visitor passed. As he walked down the hall, he noted the sounds and scents coming from the rooms. Age, despair, disease, agony, loneliness, and pending death polluted the air, but most would only notice the smell of stale disinfectant mingled with urine and feces. He came to the last door on the left and walked inside.
The sound of the artificial lung machine cranked mechanically in continuous rhythm. The patient on the bed hooked up to it by a tube threaded through his trachea lay peacefully comatose. He was young, somewhere in his thirties, and abnormally youthful to be in a nursing home. His dark hair had been recently trimmed, and his sheets were clean, evidence that the nurse had come in earlier to tend to him. He smelled fresh as a daisy in a sea of terrible odors. The man walked to the side of the bed and picked up an unresponsive hand.
“I see you’ve had a bit of pampering today. Feeling better, I bet.”
Silence was the only reply.
The man in the hoodie sat down on the blue tufted chair preparing to get comfortable. This was his nightly vigil; one he’d been holding for quite some time. He sighed and pulled the hood off his head revealing dark brown wavy hair tied back in a ponytail at his neck. He had striking features; fine cheekbones, a strong jaw, and deep blue eyes. He appeared to be of Spanish descent, an aristocrat in any other era. Although casual, his clothing was quality. There wasn’t a female on the planet who wouldn’t swoon offered just one smile from his handsome face. But worry dug a furrow in his brow, and it made a permanent home there. He closed his eyes and focused on the sound of the machine.
It lulled him into a semi-hypnotic state that was usually restful. Tonight, it was interrupted.
“State your business, and then be gone,” he said without opening his eyes.
“Your grandchild is in danger. Oh, and I’m not leaving.”
The man released a loud, annoyed sigh. “Gabriel.”
“Rafael,” came the sardonic reply.
The angel Rafael opened his eyes and stared at Gabriel, who stood quietly in the doorway.
“You may as well come in. And tell Camael to stop lurking in the hallway.”
Gabe and Cam stepped inside, closing the door to give them privacy. Rafael watched as they moved into the room. Cam casually leaned on the ledge at the window, and Gabriel stood at the foot of the hospital bed. Both were dressed head to toe in their usual black ensemble of long-sleeved shirts, pants, and boots.
“I see you’re still wearing the uniform,” Rafael snorted.
“I see you’ve gone street,” said Gabe.
“I’ll have you know this is the current fashion.”
“Always the fashionista, Rafael.”
“Always the wise-cracker, Gabriel.”
The tension built, thickening the air. Camael watched thinking he might need to step between the two at any moment when suddenly Rafael laughed.
Gabe, too, relaxed his posture, smiling.
“It’s good to see you, old friend.” Rafael stood and clasped hands with Gabe.
“And you, you old peacock!”
“Now, what’s this about my granddaughter? What granddaughter?” The confusion on Rafael’s face was real.
“You don’t know?” Gabe’s eyebrows rose in surprise.
“No, I don’t. What are you talking about?”
Camael spoke. “Did you or did you not have an affair with a human woman by the name of Genevieve Robillard?”
Rafael’s eyes flashed. “What of Genevieve?” He held his cards close to his chest, revealing nothing.
“She’s dead, for one thing,” Gabe offered.
Shock and pain pulled Rafael’s handsome face tight. “How? When?”
A few days ago, a fire. Her home was destroyed with her inside.” Camael didn’t mince words.
“Did she suffer?” The whispered words passed Rafael’s lips.
“Yes. For days, as a matter of fact. Her death was not due. I only just delivered her from her death state.
Rafael’s head hung low in despair, but his shoulders were tight, and fists clenched. “Who did this?”
“A Dark One,” said Gabe.
“You’re sure?” Anger replaced the grief on Rafael’s face.
“Yes, the stench still lingered in her house.”
“You mentioned a granddaughter. Who is she, and what makes you think she’s mine?” A hint of hope tinged his words.
“Because she is the offspring of your son Erik.” Camael stood, waiting for Rafael to deny he’d fathered a son.
Rafael paced the short length of the room, agitated. He finally came to a stop at the side of the bed. Looking down, he took the patient’s hand again. “You never told me.” Moisture pooled in his blue eyes. “I could have helped.” He lifted the hand to his lips and kissed the still fingers. He looked up at Gabriel, his cheeks wet with tears.
“This is Erik. This is my son.”
Stunned expressions greeted Rafael’s announcement.
Gabriel looked—really looked for the first time at the young man in the bed. His coloring was Rafael’s, but his features seemed more Genevieve’s. He wondered why he hadn’t noticed right away. But then, it was difficult to read the aura of a person in a coma. Those auras were dim and gray, and unless one watched for a long period of time, the few hints of color and light were usually missed.
“What happened to him, Rafael?”
“His chart says it was a drug overdose, but I’ve always wondered. He sought me out eight years ago. I felt him calling to me and found him in the park where I met his mother.” Rafael became lost in the memory. “I couldn’t believe it. I hadn’t seen him since he was a tiny baby. I left, you see. I knew he would be safer without me, safe from discovery. You both know how He frowns upon these relationships, unless, of course, He gives His blessing.” This last was a direct blast at Gabriel who wisely ignored it.
“What did he want?” asked Cam.
“He had so many questions.” Rafael sighed, passing a hand over his face. “I wrote him a letter, one that Genevieve was to give him on his eighteenth birthday. I wanted him to know something of me, to know that I loved him, loved his mother, but that it was in his best interest that I not remain in his life. It was foolish, I know, but the thought of him going his whole life without at least knowing that I loved him was more than I could bear. Unfortunately, he didn’t see that. Instead, my letter had the opposite effect, and he turned to drugs to cope with his feelings of abandonment. I stayed in his life for a bit, tried to get him back on the right track. For a time, it seemed to be helping. Then I was called away.” Rafael glanced skyward. “That task took almost ten months. By the time I came back, Erik was in the hospital, comatose. I read the medical record. It cited drugs as the culprit, but he was past that when I left. I’ve suffered in agony for eight years believing my leaving him briefly sent him back down a bad path, but now, with what you’re telling me, I’m not so sure.”
Cam and Gabe exchanged a look, both sensing Erik’s coma might, indeed, not be at all what was concluded by his physician back then.
“Tell me about her.” Rafael sat back down.
Cam placed his hands on the edge of the window ledge he sat upon. “Her name is Cecilia, and she’s the spitting image of Genevieve.”
A smile spread across Rafael’s perfect lips.
Cam continued. “She’s about eight years old, and right now, she’s sleeping soundly next to my…um,” he scrambled, then adjusted, “sleeping next to Sophie Fairchild, a little girl with whom I’m charged to keep watch over.”
“Sophie is very special,” said Gabe.
“Oh, yes? How so?” Rafael asked, still smiling over news of his granddaughter.
“She’s the next messiah,” Gabe dropped the bomb.
Rafael sucked in a breath. “He has returned?” He stood slowly, stunned.
“Yes, as a she.” Gabe crossed his arms over his chest defiantly, feeling the need to defend the reincarnation of his son.
Rafael held up his hands in a stop motion. “No, no. Don’t get me wrong. Yes, I’m surprised, but I’m more surprised that the messiah is here, now.” He shook his head in amazement. “And with my granddaughter?”
Cam nodded. “I get it. It’s a lot to take in. But we need to focus. Right now, we’re dealing with trying to figure out just who it is that’s killing off the child’s relatives. First, her mother, then her grandmother before the mother, Catherine, could get herself and Cecilia to her. And now there’s the mystery of her father.” Cam glanced at Erik Robillard. “Cecilia has not had a stable life. Apparently, the mother struggled with providing for them both, and there was a boyfriend, someone named Girard according to Cecilia, who ran out on them after they were evicted. Somewhere along the way, Catherine decided to bring Cecilia to Genevieve, but she never made it. Cecilia was alone, on the streets fending for herself. That’s where Sophie found her.”
“How did the mother pass? What happened to her?” Rafael asked, trying to fill in the blanks.
Gabe and Cam shrugged. Neither had an answer.
Gabe spoke up. “We don’t know.”
Cam stood. “When I began to ask, the poor thing shut down. I could see it was painful.”
“We need to find out, painful or not. It’s most likely a key piece of this puzzle. She had to have seen how her mother died.” Rafael looked at his son and reached out to smooth his newly trimmed hair. “Did you hear that, Erik? Cecilia, your daughter, my granddaughter, is alive. She’s alive, and I am going to make sure she remains that way.” He leaned down and kissed his son’s forehead. “I know I always sit with you at night, but I need to go help her. I know you understand.” He kissed him one last time.
“Let’s go.” Rafael flipped his hood back onto his head.
“The children are sleeping, Rafael. Just where is it you think we’re going?” Cam walked to his side.
“Whoever is orchestrating these hits obviously never wanted me to know about the girl. We go to keep watch. She’s in danger, and all who are with her are also in danger. We need to be there.”
Rafael walked to the hall, then turned back to the angels. “Who escorted Catherine’s soul?”
Gabriel looked at Cam. Cam shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Then we need to find out. Camael, you must go to Michael.”
Gabe smirked. “What makes you think he’ll offer up any information? You know how tight-lipped he gets.”
“This concerns the chosen one, does it not? Make him understand, and if he won’t talk, Zaphkiel will.” Rafael sounded convinced.
“Zaph is notoriously cagey with information,” Cam said.
“He’s the Keeper of Knowledge. You only have to ask the right questions. He must answer as he cannot lie. Ask the right questions, and you’ll get your answers.” Rafael spoke sagely, familiar with Zaphkiel’s ways after millennia.
Cam absorbed his words. They made sense. “Go with him, Gabe. Keep an eye on the girls and I’ll join you both as soon as I can.”
“And in the morning, we’ll get to the bottom of Catherine’s death.” Rafael patted Cam on the shoulder, and then headed for the exit. Gabriel followed. Cam watched them go, and then ascended quickly making his way to the mountaintop temple.
Dear Readers, welcome to Book 3 in the Angelic Hosts series, Sophie’s Wish.
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