He could still see her out of the corner of his eye. Soft, warm, inviting. “Good.” Up he stood and stalked to the room’s only window, gazing through the gap in the curtains.
The setting sun cast pink, purple and blue rays over the horizon. Below that, he saw arcing trees, lush, green grass and a colorful spread of flowers. He’d been here once before. Had thought to fly past, but had stopped to watch the wedding taking place in the gardens.
Two people, pledging to love each other for the rest of their lives, in sickness and in health. Had Annabelle ever dreamed of doing so? With her high school boyfriend, perhaps? Zacharel pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth.
“So…you lead an entire army of angels,” she said through another yawn.
“Yes. There are three factions of the Deity’s angels. The Elite Seven, who were created rather than born, the warriors and the joy-bringers.”
“You’re a warrior.”
“Yes, but as I told you, I believe I am evolving into one of the Elite.” He wondered if the metamorphosis would stop if he failed to continue to please his Deity.
Yes. Yes, it probably would. Most likely, he would not be given the title of Elite until the end of his year of service—if he survived.
Annabelle’s brow wrinkled with confusion. “How can you be given such a title if you were born?”
“One of the Seven was recently killed, and someone must take his place, whether born or created.” Once Zacharel had considered himself a wise choice. Now? Not so much.
“So you guys, what?” Annabelle asked. “Get together and march into battle, slaying demons?”
“Basically, yes. I receive my orders from the Deity, summon my army, and the soldiers come to my cloud. I relay the orders to them, and off we fly.”
“But you’re not the only army who does this, right?”
“Right. There are many angelic armies under the Deity’s command. Most guard and patrol a certain city, and are sent into a full-fledged battle twice a month. Mine has not been assigned to a particular location, but travels the world. We aid humans, fight demon hordes, and anything else we are told.”
He wasn’t sure what he’d do when he and his soldiers were given their next mission. The thought of leaving Annabelle alone hollowed him out. Not that she would be helpless. The ferocious way she fought had astonished—and impressed—him.
“During the interim,” he added, “we are to heal if need be, to train, to hunt individual demons or, if necessary, to aid other armies who request backup.”
“Why are you and your men given more tasks than the other armies? Because you guys are stronger and more likely to win?”
Or because they had less to lose, he mused. “You would have to ask my Deity. He has not yet revealed the answer to me.”
She released her hair from the ponytail, and combed her fingers through the strands. He shouldn’t have noticed, but he’d angled his body toward her, seeking her unbidden. “Maybe I will,” she said. “So how do you find the demons you hunt individually?”
“We can follow their trails of evil and destruction, but most times, as with you, our Deity points us in the right direction.”
“Why didn’t he send an army to the institution sooner?”
“He did. Many times. But soon after the demons were slain, others found you.”
“Wow. I was being helped all along and had no idea. I’d always assumed I was on my own, that I could count on no one but myself.”
“The Most High, and thereby the Deity, always desires to help you humans.”
“I love knowing that. It’s comforting. But you know, even though others were sent, you were the first angel to ever visit me.”
And he would never be gladder for anything. He hoped she was, too.