Lash watched the girl blink rapidly and felt a tug in his chest as she wiped away her tears. She placed a determined look on her face before turning her attention back to the boy.
“It’s okay. Shh, don’t cry. We’ll be landing soon,” she said. “What’s your name?”
The little boy looked up. Brown eyes framed by long lashes locked with hers. Tears lined his chubby cheeks. “Ja—Javier.” He sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of his shirtsleeve.
“Hi, Javier. I’m Jane.”
The plane dropped, lifting Javier off his seat for a split second before he slammed back down. He sobbed.
Lash knelt next to him and sent a wave of calm, hoping the boy could sense his presence.
Javier wheezed as if trying to catch his breath. A pale hand reached out toward him.
“You’ll be alright, Javier. Don’t worry. I’ll hold your hand until we land. Okay?”
Javier looked at Jane. His black curls bobbed as he nodded.
Lash ached as Javier reached out his hand and placed it in Jane’s. It had been a long time since he’d seen anyone act so selflessly. He glanced around the plane, expecting to see Jeremy. Since he wasn’t there, maybe there was hope for the little girl and the others.
The plane trembled violently, and the stewardesses ran down the aisles, ordering the passengers to buckle their seatbelts. They then rushed to their own seats and strapped themselves in.
There was a loud pop followed by a screech of tearing metal. Screams filled the cabin, and yellow oxygen masks dropped from the ceiling.
Jane let go of Javier’s hand for a moment to put on her mask, and he cried. Lash leaned in and whispered, “Don’t be afraid. I’m here for you.”
Javier continued to cry out as Lash hovered over him. He looked over to Jane, whose trembling hands were placing the yellow mask over her face. When she was done, she leaned back, stretching her hand back to Javier. “Put on your mask,” she yelled.
Javier grabbed her hand and looked at her with a blank expression.
Jane gazed directly into his eyes and pointed at the floating yellow plastic. “Put it on.”
Javier nodded and frantically placed the mask over his face. There was a loud bang.
Screams were swallowed as soon as they started. Javier’s eyes widened, and Jane turned around to see what he was looking at. She gave a high-pitched shriek. Flickers of orange and red reflected off Javier’s mask, and Lash stiffened. Heat slammed his back, and he turned, ready to fight off whatever was coming to harm the boy. His stomach dropped when a wave of flames rolled down the aisle toward them.
***
Lash’s footsteps echoed in the Room of Offerings, a vast room where the archangels displayed the gifts that humans had offered to Heaven over the centuries. Paintings and sculptures lined the walls. He paused in front of a large mahogany case and stared at a tiny statuette, a likeness of Gabrielle, through the glass pane. His light eyes darkened as he took it out and brushed his hands over the smooth stone. He snapped off the head and crushed it between his fingers, turning it to dust. He placed the figurine front and center back on the shelf and smirked, knowing Gabrielle would go ballistic when she saw it.
He turned when the large oak door squeaked opened. The Archangel Raphael walked into the room, his solemn blue eyes resting on Lash as he neared him.
“Lahash.” His voice was thick with disappointment.
It wasn’t Raphael’s first time escorting Lash to the Hall of Judgment, the place where angels were disciplined for their wrongdoings and were judged worthy or unworthy of staying in Heaven. Lash never worried that he would be deemed unworthy—Raphael always saw to that.
Glancing at the headless figurine, Raphael pursed his lips but didn’t comment on it. “Michael will see you as soon as he’s finished questioning Gabrielle.”
“It’s Lash,” Lash mumbled under his breath. He hated being called by his heavenly name, but Raphael, old-fashioned in his ways and adamant on keeping traditions, insisted.
Raphael ran a hand through his blond waves of hair with frustration. He didn’t acknowledge the remark, but Lash knew he had heard it well enough. Some of the special perks of being an angel included amplified sight, hearing, and strength—the flying was an added bonus.
“Why did you do it, Lahash? Gabrielle gave you specific instructions. All you had to do was follow them.”
What answer could he give to his mentor, the one who always defended him when he decided to go his own way? He wished he could tell Raphael the truth. When Gabrielle had instructed him to save the boy, he had been happy to do it. For years, he’d been helping people who threw their lives away with frivolous pursuits; at least with a child, he thought, there was always hope. There was something about children, with their open minds and unblemished hearts; so different from the jaded, selfish adults he encountered. Saving the boy had been easy; leaving the little blond-haired girl to her fate had not.