Elohim Read online

  “I have to ask you something,” Gabriel hesitated. “I don’t want to. I wanted to keep you as far away from this as possible, but you might be our only hope.”

  “Your only hope for what?”

  She cringed a little before saying it. “Saving the world.”

  She laughed.

  “I’m not kidding.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “There’s a place in what used to be Babylon. We, my siblings and I, have to protect it, like, at all costs and there’s an army of golem headed there right now on a mission to destroy it. You’re a witch, so--”

  “Hold on. You and your siblings, the angels, are in a war with golem? The clay to life puppet monsters from Jewish folklore?”

  “Sort of. Religion never really gets the details right. Doesn’t matter. Point is, if they blow this place up, me and my family don’t get to go home when we die. No one gets to go to Heaven when they die. My Father’s plans get flushed down the toilet and we’re all pretty much fucked for the next two hundred and forty years.”

  “Your Father…you mean God.”

  “Yeah.”

  Wendy’s eyes were wide, eyebrows raised. She didn’t hesitate. “Tell me what you need. It’s yours.”

  “A protection spell. Something to guard the place while we take out the baddies. Maybe something to remove warding? Give me whatever ingredients and words to say and I’ll--”

  “That’s not how it works. Something that powerful I’d have to do myself. No offense to you, but you’re no witch. Even if you were, my spells are too strong for most to handle.”

  “Okay. Never mind, then. I’ll figure something else out. I always do.”

  “Don’t be crazy. I’m coming with you.”

  “No.”

  “Gabriel,”

  “I won’t put you in danger. If something happened to you--”

  “I can take care of myself. Not to toot my own horn, but I’m pretty badass. Besides, it’s for God. Who am I to say no?”

  Tears formed in Gabriel’s eyes as she feebly tried to wave them away.

  “Why are you crying?” Wendy asked, touching her girlfriend’s hair and cheek.

  “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  She kissed her and wiped away her tears. “It’s sweet of you to worry about me, but you don’t have to.”

  “You’ll see things…see me do things. I’m afraid you’ll think less of me. Be afraid of me.”

  Wendy laughed. “I’m not exactly a stranger to spooky shit.”

  “Aren’t you scared?”

  “Of course, it’s an army of monsters with guns. I’m badass, not stupid.”

  “I didn’t mean about the war.”

  Wendy looked at her fondly. “A little. But, you’re pretty cute, so I think I’ll risk it.” They both laughed before kissing again. “So, when do we leave?”

  Chapter 28

  “Three years?” Malik asked.

  “That’s what she tells me,” Valerie huffed.

  “And she swore it’d all be over then? No more fights with this demon or that mythical creature? You’d be free?”

  “Supposedly.”

  “Well, okay. That’s not that long. Hell, we’ll probably still be on the waitlist. Plus, it gives us time to find the perfect house, settle in, get a minivan.”

  “A minivan? Who are you right now?”

  He laughed. “I’m just excited to start our family. Maybe not a minivan. An SUV?”

  “We’ll talk about it.” Her face fell, her expression solemn.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “What if I’m not cut out for it? Parenting, I mean.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You know, growing up in foster care, bouncing around, all the abusive shit. I don’t know how to be a mother.”

  “Val, up until this morning, you were a guidance counselor. Your job was helping kids.”

  “High school kids, picking colleges, classes, and careers. Their parents did all the actual work. I just helped them get to where they wanted to be.”

  “Well, Val,” he chortled. “What do you think parenting is?”

  “That’s the problem. I couldn’t tell you.”

  “Baby, all it is is giving them what they need to become the people they want to be…and keeping them alive.” He winked.

  “Oh, shit. I didn’t think about it before now, but how’s it gonna be for them, having Lucifer for an uncle?”

  They both laughed.

  “Well, I don’t know. Maybe he only visits when your sister’s around. She seems to keep him on a pretty tight leash most of the time.”

  “She tries.” She covered her mouth as she giggled.

  He took her hand. “You have nothing to worry about. I’m a thousand percent sure you’re gonna be an excellent mother.”

  “How?”

  “Because I know you, better than anyone.”

  “Do you?”

  “Well, maybe not as well as your sister. She has the advantage of being able to read your mind.” He smiled. “Speaking of, wouldn’t she try to talk you out of it if she thought you weren’t mother material?”

  “Yeah, she’s not shy about telling me what she thinks I should or shouldn’t do.”

  “No. So can you stop second-guessing yourself now? Unless there’s something else goin’ on.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, if you don’t want kids--”

  “Oh, no, I do. I definitely do. I’m just afraid I’m gonna mess them up.”

  He kissed her hand. “Every parent worries about that. Especially the good ones.”

  “I guess.”

  “So, tell me about this thing you’re getting ready to do. How dangerous is it?”

  “Extremely. I’ll basically be beheading dudes in the desert for as long as it takes Lucifer to disable bombs. An army of vamps will be doing most of the fighting, I think, but it’ll be a miracle if I don’t get shot.”

  “And I’m supposed to be okay with this?”

  She shrugged. “Not really. Shit, I’m not okay with it, but if Wyatt can drag his ass out there after everything he’s been through lately, I have got no excuse to sit mine at home.”

  Chapter 29

  Wyatt walked into his apartment after leaving the contents of the moving truck in a storage unit on West 55th. It was late and he felt drained. He kicked off his shoes and collapsed onto the sofa, barely able to keep his eyes open.

  “Mr. Sinclair,” a voice called from behind.

  He sat up, turning his head to see a man he didn’t recognize sipping from a blood bag.

  “I’m Hart, the Queen’s assistant. She wants me to tell you she’s attending to her army, but she’ll be back in a flash.” He came around to the front of the couch and looked Wyatt up and down, taking another sip and nodding in approval. “Okay, I get it now.”

  “She could have left a note.”

  “She wanted me to make sure you were all right. You need anything? I can order you some take out, give you a massage, run you a bath. Anything you want.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “I can see that.”

  “I thought that girl, Hattie, was her assistant.”

  “Mmm,” Hart acknowledged, sitting next to him and rolling his eyes. “She was, but she disappeared without a trace a couple of weeks ago. Rumor has it, she sired a new vampire without the Queen’s approval. I don’t know if that’s true, but if it is, best she stays away for good.”

  “Why’s that?”

  Hart put his hand to his chest. “Are you kidding? Have you ever seen Her Majesty angry? I wouldn’t wish her wrath on my worst enemy.”

  “Really? She seems so,”

  “Fair? Generous? Kind? Loving, even?”

  Wyatt nodded.

  “She is. But, get on her bad side,” he shook his head. “I don’t recommend it.”

  “Good to know,” he chuckled. “I appreciate that she cares enough to send you,
but I’m all right. I’m just gonna go to bed. You can leave.”

  “I can’t. As rude as it is for me to stay when you want me to go, if I leave before the Queen gets back, she’ll skin me alive.”

  “You mean that metaphorically, right?”

  Hart took another sip from his blood bag, his eyes fixed on Wyatt’s, and shook his head.

  Chapter 30

  Allydia looked over her soldiers, arms folded and a scowl on her face. Red war paint had been smeared in stripes on their cheeks to symbolize the blood-bond they all shared. Some carried swords, others machetes. Some held no weapons, instead relying on their hands to do the work of removing head from body. Those were the ones that gave her the most pride, and the most concern.

  “Are they ready?”

  “Yes, my Queen,” Phindi said confidently. “They have been trained in the ways of the Israeli’s, as you commanded. I would trust any one of them with my life, in battle or otherwise.”

  “Thank you, Commander. You’ve proven yourself invaluable. Should we prevail, I will give to you anything you desire. Money, title. Simply name it and it’s yours.”

  “You are very kind, Your Majesty. But, you have already been so generous. I require nothing but to keep serving you as long as I am needed.”

  “It’s not about what you require. It’s about what you deserve. Come out of this with your head and heart intact and I will give you the world on a platter.”

  Phindi stood straight, honored and proud. “Whatever you wish, my Queen.”

  “It’s nearly morning. Get some rest. When the sun sets again, make sure everyone’s well fed. They’ll need their strength.”

  She nodded. “The plane’s windows have been blacked out. We will sleep there so there will be no delay in our departure.” She turned to face the soldiers and gave the order. “Planes, now!” The soldiers spun on their heels and began to file into the five double-deck aircraft Hart had chartered.

  “I will meet you there. Remember, keep everyone on the planes until I arrive. I don’t have to tell you how unforgiving the desert sun is to things like us.”

  “Yes, my Queen.” She bowed and made her way to the lead plane, leaving Allydia alone on the tarmac. She sighed heavily. She hated putting her people in harm’s way. But the fight was just and besides, this was the last favor she owed. After this battle, it would be Gabriel’s turn to deliver on her part of their arrangement.

  “He’s all right, I trust,” Allydia said as she entered the apartment, closing the door behind her and taking a seat at the kitchen island.

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Hart assured her, hurrying to fetch her a blood bag from the fridge and tossing it the microwave. “He’s been asleep for just over two hours.”

  “Good. Thank you, Hart. The sun will be up soon. You may go.”

  “Actually, there’s something I’d like to discuss with you, if I may.” He removed the blood from the appliance and poured it into a glass before handing it to her and kneeling, his eyes fixed firmly on the floor.

  “Of course. What is it?”

  “I’ve been struggling with how to bring this up, and I know it’s maybe not the ideal time, a war on and everything, but--”

  “You have a request?”

  “I do,” he told her, his voice shaky.

  “All you need to do is ask.”

  “Okay,” he gulped. “Your Majesty, I want to…I need to…”

  “Yes?”

  “I’d like to…transition.”

  She burst into laughter, setting her glass on the counter. “Hart, remind me of the night you turned.”

  He shifted a little as he remembered. “It was the summer of 1969. I was outside a club in Greenwich. Some guys had beaten me up. I was bleeding from the head. I tried calling out for help, but it was so crazy, I didn’t think anyone heard me. But then, you came. You asked if I wanted to live a life free of hate and fear.”

  “And have I provided you with that life?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  Her voice softened. “Then why would you think you had to ask my permission to be who you are?”

  Tears started to form in his eyes.

  “Look at me,” she ordered. He raised his eyes to meet hers, the tears now spilling out. “I don’t care what you look like or what you identify as. Change your clothes, change your name, change your gender. It’s all just window dressing to me.” She touched his cheek and smiled. “You’re perfect. You’ve always been perfect. And, whoever you become, however you wish to present yourself to the world, you will always be perfect to me.”

  Hart covered his mouth, muffling the sobs he didn’t want her to hear. He did his best to gather himself before standing. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” He hurried to the door, locking it behind him as he left.

  Allydia went to Wyatt’s bedroom where she found him standing in the doorway, having listened in on her conversation. He took her face in his hands and kissed her sweetly. “You don’t seem scary to me.”

  “I don’t? Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

  He laughed. “You’re probably right about that.”

  Chapter 31

  Hart woke early the next night, having set an alarm for just after sunset. He was too excited to start his new life to sleep in. He tied back his shoulder-length hair and slipped on a satin robe before heading to the bathroom. In a rush, he applied the shaving cream and lifted the blade from its place on the vanity. He shaved quickly, one smooth swipe of the razor after another, rinsing the blade periodically. When he was sure all the stubble had been removed, he splashed his face with cold water and patted it dry with the hand towel that hung just above the light switch. He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, his hands trembling in anticipation.

  After a few contemplative moments, he opened the drawer and beamed at the sight of its contents. Pallets upon pallets of eyeshadow and blush. Tubes of lipstick, bottles of foundation, compacts of powder, bronzer and contour, all unopened. His face lit up as he took a tube of BB cream in his hands and broke the seal. He squeezed a small amount onto his finger, rubbed it on the back of his hand to warm it up, then dotted it all over his face. He blended it in with a stippling brush until his skin looked flawless. Next, he applied the contour, doing his best to remember the techniques he’d seen on internet how-tos. “Blend, blend, blend.” he reminded himself. He then turned his face up in an exaggerated smile, brushing on the soft-pink blush to the apples of his cheeks and eye-lids. He used transparent powder to set before he turned his attention to his eyes. He lined them in deep black before applying mascara and false lashes. Finally, he carefully spread the blood-red lipstick to his full lips then went over them with a clear gloss.

  “Almost,” he breathed, closing the makeup drawer and opening the medicine cabinet. He’d taken out the shelves and added hooks, allowing him to easily store his many hair extensions. He separated his hair, tying most of it up before clipping in the first extension. He repeated the process until he was happy with the length and fullness. He then added waves with setting spray and a curling iron. He tousled his hair until he was satisfied that he had a natural, “beachy” look.

  He stared at himself in the mirror, puckering his lips and tilting his head in different poses. This was it. This was who he’d always been meant to be. Hart was over. Dead. He had ceased to be. From now on, there was only Hartley.

  “There you are, you beautiful bitch.”

  Chapter 32

  Wendy left Gabriel in bed while she went to pick up a fast-food breakfast; sausage biscuits, hash browns, and apple pie. She had food at her apartment, but she needed an excuse to get some fresh air, the short walk guaranteed to clear her head. She had agreed to help Gabriel without giving it much thought at all. How could she refuse her? She was talking about guarding the Gate to Heaven. That wasn’t something she could just ignore. Still, it was risky and she could be putting herself in more danger than she realized. She went over the checklist of things she’d ne
ed for the spell: Amethyst, Goofer Dust mixed with dirt from her grandmother’s grave and a few other things, black, blue and red candles. She felt like she was forgetting something, but what? Hopefully, it’d come to her once she got some food in her stomach.

  Gabriel was still sleeping when she got home. She watched her for a second before deciding that was probably creepy and went to the desk where the cat’s eye necklace remained. She debated with herself whether or not to use it, activating her great-aunt’s magic and taking it into herself. On one hand, the more power the better. On the other, there was no telling what Grace’s magic would do to her. It was strong. She could feel it from across the room. It would take time for her to learn to control it…time they didn’t have. No. It was too much of a gamble. She’d leave the amulet where it was. At least, for now. She was confident she could do the spell on her own, no assistance required. As she took the food from its bag and set cans of soda on the table, she hoped she wouldn’t regret her decision.

  “Hey,” Gabriel greeted, sauntering into the kitchen wearing nothing but a tee-shirt. “Yay, food!” She kissed Wendy’s cheek and sat down, curling her legs underneath her and shoving a bite of biscuit into her mouth. “You have everything you need?”

  “Yeah, my duffel’s already packed.” She pointed to her bag by the door.

  “So prepared.”

  “Like a boy scout.”

  “Are you sure you want to do this? It’s gonna be hella dangerous.”

  “I’m sure. I thought about it on the way to get breakfast. What kind of person would I be if I said ‘no’ to protecting Heaven? I mean, really.”

  “With the threat of getting shot or blown up looming, I’d say ‘normal’.”

  “I’m not normal, though.” She smirked.

  “Join the club, sister.”

  They clinked soda cans and drank, their smiles fading as Gabriel held Wendy’s hand, kissing the back of it and sighing heavily. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”