Chapter 14
The hurricane raged for what seemed like an eternity with Shane and the demons holed up in their shithole bungalow licking their wounds from Alejandro. He tried to nap, which was impossible with Nara and her parents bickering about the best way to abduct and subsequently torture the seers. He was in deep with the demon clan with Nara pregnant. He would be inextricably tied to them forever.
Shane wanted to say, “I’m not helping. I’m leaving. I’d say good luck, but that angel will destroy you.” What he did say was, “What if they summon the angel?” On the sane edges of his mind, he was formulating a plan of escape from these demons with his child.
“The angel isn’t a problem anymore. Anna is on our side.” Abaddon spat. He glared at Shane like the filth he probably believed him to be.
You keep thinking like that, dipshit, and we’re all dead. “No, she’s not,” he persisted.
Nara squinted at him. “How can you be so sure?”
“I’m not. But is that a chance you’re willing to take? You’ve dealt with enough angels to know that angels, surprisingly, are somehow always better than demons at pulling out last minute clever tricks to help them win. A strong angel is like a good magician. Even when you’re sure you picked the right coconut that’s hiding the prize, you’ll never guess right. The house, when it’s full of angels, always had an advantage. Strong angels play even dirtier than demons.” Shane glared at Abaddon, or should he start calling him gramps?
“Aw, that’s sweet. You do care about us.” Nara fluttered her eyelashes and moved in close to snuggle with him on the couch.
He sank deeper into the moth eaten plaid daybed couch he’d called home the past week. The dive Abaddon rented lacked basic essentials like air conditioning and indoor plumbing, making it an insect haven. Between the stench of their sweat inside, and feces stagnating in a hole outside, the smell was overwhelming. But no room service meant no human interruptions. Staring at a crack in the cheap plaster wall, his mind singularly focused on one thing: his child. Choices. I have one year to plunge into the pit, get my grace back, or cease to exist.
Ascend or descend.
One year. Twelve months. Less than three hundred sixty-five days to get back in God’s good graces if he tried to ascend. Probably capturing, torturing, and likely killing seers with a demon clan wasn’t really a step in the right direction.
He pushed Nara away from him and stood tall over where Abaddon lounged. “Let’s make this clear. I’m not killing anybody, demon.”
“You don’t always have to do the actual killing to commit murder, son.” Abaddon smiled cruelly, throwing an imprint of the baby from the airplane in his mind.
Faltering, he stumbled backward gripping his head in his hands, unable to shake the image of the crying baby in Abaddon’s arms. He’d handed that child over voluntarily. “Stop it,” he pleaded.
Nara put a hand on his shoulder. “Daddy, stop. Remember, he did what you asked of him. Plus, he saved my life in Cabo. Twice.”
Abaddon held his ribs gingerly but rose to his full height standing tall and dark over Shane. “You can’t go back up. No one ever does. Your insecurities will always stop you. Are you worthy? No. Does He want you back? No. You never were good enough for Him, none of us were. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you can come and join us. Now, let’s finalize this plan. As soon as this storm ends, you two go and watch the young seer’s bungalow and bring him back here after you capture him. We’ll get the woman. Then we’ll have some fun.”
Shane couldn’t mentally compute how many wrong turns he had taken in his one allotted life as a former angel. At least demons could try to perfect their evil ways lifetime after lifetime after lifetime…
Even though he was a lost cause, his child didn’t have to be. It didn’t bode well for his unborn child that he or she were being born to a demon mother and fallen angel father with the added bonus of a set of hands-on demon grandparents—grandpa being the ambassador of Hell no less. Plus, the entire family was also top tier drug lords on the side to finance their misadventures. They probably had their fingers deep in the cookie jar of God-only-knew what else.
Shane needed some air. He went outside to listen to Hurakan. If humans knew that some of their crazy ideologies were true, what a mess that would be. The Mayans thought Hurakan was a god, but he was an angel locked in the atmosphere. An angel whose leg was chewed off at sea at the end of his one life. Hurakan, the “one-legged,” paused on his way back upstairs and came back to hunt for his leg. By prizing physical possessions over spiritual, God punished Hurakan by trapping him for all eternity between physical earth and heaven. From time to time, Hurakan lowered himself to continue his search for his missing leg while his remaining leg became the eye of the storm, wandering and careening wildly looking for its mate and destroying anything in its path.
His power was so intense that all of God’s creatures were forced to stop and listen to him during a hurricane. Angels and demons couldn’t move well in hurricanes. He ventured outside to be a sounding board for the angel trapped in the atmosphere. Through the howling wind and blowing trees in every direction, Shane could make out Hurakan’s haunting echo on the cusps of the wind.
Ddeemmoonnss bbeewwaarree…
Mmyy jjoouurrnneeyy iiss aallmmoosstt oovveer
Ttrraannssiittoorr…Ddaannggeer…Ttrraannssiittoorr…Ddaannggeer
Drenched, he looked to the sky through the blinding sheets of rain as if Hurakan himself would be there. Palm tree tops were pointing in a one direction from the wind.
Did I hear right? I’m in danger? From what?