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Authors: Elise Marion

BOOK: Tempted
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She spiraled upward with the blooms held against her chest. She closed her eyes as a white glow expanded from her and enveloped the flowers. The children watched in awe as the glow subsided and flittering butterflies flew from her palms. As the children forgot about Sarah and ran off in pursuit of the butterflies, she turned away from them with a smile and headed back toward the city. She had been summoned by Father on a matter of utmost importance.

When she reached the center of the city she landed on the front steps of the tallest, largest building. A magnificent glow surrounded the brilliant gold structure. The beating of thousands of pairs of wings filled her ears as other angels flew by overhead.

After entering the building, she paused at the massive double doors at the end of a long, arched corridor and folded her wings forward until they were covering her eyes. On the other side of this door was the Throne Room of Father. This was the closest any being could get to Father without being blinded by his brilliance. Even angels had to shield their faces in his presence.

When the doors swung open, she entered the room and headed toward the imposing throne at the opposite end of the room. As she walked, she felt twenty-four pairs of glowing eyes boring into her. Lining the room in thrones that stretched up toward the ceiling sat heaven’s twenty-four elders, their white robes glowing brightly, their golden crowns glittering. They sat silently, watching her as she moved across floors made of clear crystal.

At the far end of the room sat a throne larger than the other twenty-four. Even though Sarah could not look directly at the being seated on the throne, she could see his bright amber glow through her wings.

The Seraphim, highest-ranking angels and caretakers to the throne, hovered over the throne. Each had three pairs of wings; one they used to cover their bodies, one they used to shield their eyes, and the other they used to fly as they stood guard. They looked on silently as Sarah dropped to one knee and bowed her head.


Father,” she said as warmth enveloped her body. Being this close to Father always had this effect on her. The cares and concerns of the Earth were forgotten as she knelt, basking in the glow surrounding her.


My daughter, Sarah,” boomed Father’s strong but gentle voice. “How wonderful it is to see your beautiful face. How are things on Earth, my child?”

Sarah frowned. “Discouraging, Father,” she answered. “But I am your servant and remain ever-vigilant in our mission of saving lost souls.”


Very good, daughter. I have summoned you here today on a matter of great importance. I have something that I want to entrust you with, something that reaches beyond your duties as a messenger.”

Sarah’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Father had never asked her to perform outside of her usual tasks. She waited with baited breath for him to reveal to her what the assignment was.


The first part of your task is simple. There is a human man I’ve chosen to add to the ranks of our earthly Guardians. He is strong and I have bestowed great power upon him. Of course, he is unaware of this power. I wish for you to enlighten him, and bestow upon him my seal if he chooses to become a Guardian.”

Sarah nodded but remained silent. The first part was simple enough. Father chose humans, only those who possessed certain qualities, to become earthly Guardians. As a messenger, one of her jobs was informing those people that they’d been chosen. It was a great honor.


Unfortunately, the man I’ve chosen is not likely to accept this assignment easily. He is scarred and angry; he will reject the assignment at first.”

Where did that leave her? She’d never seen an assignment like this rejected. Most Guardians were people who were aware on some level that they were different. They were always happy to accept.


I’m getting to that,” Father said with a chuckle before she could speak her thoughts aloud. “You and I both know that the Evil One will not just stand by and do nothing. Once he finds out that I have appointed this man as one of my Guardians, he will do everything within his power to stop it. Until he accepts he is a target, and I do not want him influenced by the other side.”


What would you have me do?”


I am putting him in your care. You will watch him. Keep him safe until he makes his decision. As always, you will not influence free will. Once a decision is made, he becomes off limits to hell if he accepts, and heaven if he does not.”

Sarah was taken aback. She had never been charged with a human’s protection before. Her assignments concerning humans had been limited. As a result, she hardly understood them. Emotionally driven creatures, they were foreign to her. She hadn’t the slightest notion how to go about interacting with one. If Father was right, and he always was, this man would refuse the offer at first, and she would have no choice but to become his guardian. But she would not question the will of Father. If he had confidence enough to give her this task, then he must know that she was capable of completing it.


Will you accept this assignment?”

Of course she would accept it. As an angel she could not refuse his will without suffering the consequences, but as always he offered her a choice. Even angels were allowed free will; it was why Nathan was now one of the Fallen.


Yes,” she answered with a firm nod.


Very good, my daughter. The man’s name is Jackson Bennett.”

The image of a man filled her vision. His face was mask of tormented sadness. His eyes were haunted windows to a turbulent soul; hooded, gray storm clouds. Sarah could not stifle the gasp that escaped her throat. It was him! The man she’d bumped into on the street, whose turbulent emotions had caused her to become ill, was her assignment.

She just couldn’t understand it. Why would Father choose this man? He had to know how difficult this would be for an angel with no experience when it came to dealing with human emotion.


How long?” she asked pushing her doubts aside for now.


Seven days. He must make a decision within that time.”


Then I will go now.”

Chapter 5: Shooting Star

 

Jackson squeezed his eyes shut against the pain that wracked his body. A high-pitched ringing in his ears vibrated inside his throbbing head. As the smells of smoke and fire filled his nostrils, he forced his eyes open so that he could assess was what going on around him. He could faintly hear the squawking of the radio and the moans and groans of people in pain as the ringing began to subside.

He slowly rotated his head to the left, and felt his heart plummet into his stomach. Orange flames filled his vision as well as the terrified faces of the men in the back of the flipped Humvee. He forced down nausea and waited for his eyes to focus before his hand went to his seatbelt.


What the hell was that, Sergeant?” asked a voice from the back seat. It belonged to Ed Reedley, an eighteen year old private on his first tour. His wide blue eyes were filled with fear and unshed tears as Jackson turned back around to look at the shaking kid. Jackson noticed that his arm was twisted at an unnatural angle and hanging limply at his side. Blood oozed from a nasty gash on his face.


Deep buried IED,” Jackson said, as he fumbled with his seatbelt. Once he was free, he lifted his arms to brace himself as he fell head first to the roof of the Humvee. “We must have rolled right over it. It flipped us when it went off.”


How’s Scott?” he asked, his voice wavering a bit.

Jackson looked over at the unconscious driver and frowned. He reached out and pressed his gloved fingers against the base of Scott’s throat. The fluttering there filled Jackson with relief. “He’s out cold, but he’s still alive. How ‘bout you Richards?” he asked the second passenger in the backseat. “Can either of you reach your seatbelts?”


I think my right arm is broken Sergeant,” said Reedley. “But I might be able to reach across with my left. And Richards just passed out.”

Jackson let out a string of curses as he crawled toward the door on his side. “Work on getting that goddamn seatbelt off, Reed. You’re going to have to help me get Richards and Scott out of here.”


Roger, Sergeant.”

Grateful that the windows of the massive truck were too thick to have shattered, Jackson slid across the ceiling of the truck and reached for the door handle. As he pushed the heavy door open with a groan, he wondered where the hell the occupants of the other three trucks were. Someone should have come to check on them by now. He had at least been expecting the medic.

Just as he reached for the door handle, another loud explosion filled his ears and the ground rumbled beneath them. The explosion was followed by the sound of gunshots.


Shit!” Jackson spat as he swung the door open and crawled out through the door. The third truck in the convoy had been hit by a rocket propelled grenade, or RPG. As he struggled to his feet, he fought against the pain that wracked his body and the dizziness that clouded his mind. Within seconds he realized that the improvised explosive device had only been the beginning of a complex ambush. He could see that the Humvee that had been hit was now no more than a flaming hunk of twisted metal…

 

 

 

 

Jackson tipped the vodka bottle up to his lips as he stepped out onto the fire escape. After his hellish dreams had torn him from sleep at two o’clock in the morning, he had been unable to go back to sleep. The television had been a useless distraction. He had not been able to tolerate it for more than twenty minutes. Push-ups, sit-ups, and the barbells in the corner of his living room had kept him occupied for another hour. Loading the dishwasher had taken another ten minutes.

None of it had been enough to chase the last traces of the dream from his mind. As always, the dream had been so incredibly real that Jackson could have sworn he was back in Iraq. He had awakened drenched in sweat, his skin burning as if he were still under the hot desert sun. He could still smell the acrid odor of smoke and burning flesh. He could still hear the screams of dying men.

And so, for lack of anything else to do, Jackson turned toward the full bottle of vodka he’d stashed in the freezer. He’d done well for the last two nights without it. Tonight, the dreams were back and he knew it was only a matter of time before the voices started in. Planning to chase them away before they could even start, Jackson opened the bottle and stepped outside for some fresh air.

He had just taken his first swallow, when he felt it. The crushing feeling of guilt and anger began to press down on him until he felt as if he would collapse from the strain. He pressed his hand against his chest and closed his eyes.

Your fault. Your fault.

Jackson shook his head and took another sip, determined not to succumb to the maelstrom brewing inside him.

Those people died because of you. You are responsible. Your fault.

Jackson’s breath quickened and his pulse began to race, as it always did when these feelings overtook him. His heart squeezed painfully and he sank to his knees, fighting for air. The disturbing thoughts had invaded and now rang out in his ears, so loud he could no longer drown it out.

You ruin everything your hands touch. You could not even be a decent husband to Rochelle. You could not even be a good father to little Jack.


No,” he moaned, clutching his bottle as if it were a lifeline. “I didn’t mean it,” he whispered to the night as the bottle slipped from his fingers. “I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

Your fault. Your fault.

Jackson fell back against the fire escape railing and closed his eyes, giving himself over to the misery that these attacks always left him with. It was his fault. Everything.

Men had died because of his decisions. They had suffered because of his inaction. His wife had left him because he couldn’t seem to pull himself together. He was alone, left to suffer the consequences of his actions in solitude.

 

 

 

 

Sarah slowed as she neared the apartment building where Jackson Bennett lived. As she dropped to the roof and lowered her wings, she was immediately overtaken by the presence of evil. She could feel it in the atmosphere, like an electric current. She could smell it in the air like a combination of sewage and spoiled, rotting meat.

She scanned the rooftop slowly and could not see anyone or anything that was out of place, but she knew that a demon was there. “Show yourself, demon,” she commanded as she moved across the dark roof. The stench grew stronger and she knew that she was getting closer.

A metallic clanking sound broke through the silence of the night, and a gray shape formed against the darkened night sky. As it neared, Sarah realized that the approaching demon was riding a winged beast. The scaled animal’s flapping wings created the grating metallic sound, and it’s long, lizard-like tail added a ‘whooshing’ effect. The beast landed on the roof and its rider dismounted with a leap. Recognition flared in Sarah’s eyes as Eligos, the Great Duke of Hell, approached her.

Although she’d never seen the dark lord of hell in person, he was well known. It was said that he was once a Seraphim, among the highest order of angels. The Evil One had tempted him with great power and position in hell, and he’d switched sides.

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