Authors: Scarlet Black
When Gabriel finally let his eyes drift slowly open, he saw the look of frustration on Lucien
’
s face. He saw something else there too: he was terrified
.
However, Lucien was not looking at Gabriel any longer
,
instead his eyes gazed upward. Looking up himself, he saw nothing.
Yet, Lucien
was paralyzed with fear
,
that much was certain
. His
wings came down and lay limp and useless behind his back. Whatever it was that Lucien was staring at, mouth open, eyes wide, Gabriel was unable to see. Then, it came back to him from the time he
’
d first laid eyes upon Lucien. Something in the distance had caught his attention
and
distracted him while he spoke with Gabriel as he lay beneath the rocks.
He glanced around the open spaces of the carriage house and there, where Lily had made her exit, she stood, beckoning silently to him with her eyes to come away from this place, to come back into her arms. Lily
’
s face was streaked with tears, her hand tight around the heart shaped locket at her throat.
When she
’
d left them, she
’
d
torn through the library in the empty house, looking through the many books on Wicca spells,
The Witches Bible
, and any other books she could lay her hands on, trying to find something that would help to rid them of this wicked angel. She found nothing. She was well aware of her own powers, but hesitated to use them, not without at least some minimal guidance from a spell.
Even with a spell, the last time she
’
d used her powers; to save her brother Dylan from the disease
which threatened to
claim his young life, it had worked but there
’
d been a price to pay. That boy, the one her parents and friends and even the
Blackstones
themselves didn
’
t think she knew about, that young Blackstone boy who
’
d died at the very same time that Dylan was cured.
Gabriel saw her standing there. He caught her eyes with his and they locked. Without ever speaking a single syllable they were able to convey their love for one another. Whatever happened here, in the future or even in the past for that matter, they were bound together by destiny.
Gabriel nodded
,
assuring her
that he had this matter under control and she acknowledged him by nodding back. He was her man and that was what he needed to be right now. A man, standing up against the evil that had come into his life and spread out like a vicious spider web, touching those he loved; those he had allowed Lucien to take from him.
Lily couldn
’
t see what Lucien was staring at either, but she also witnessed the change in his demeanor. She would leave Gabriel to do what he had to do
,
trusting in the very simplest of human powers that he no doubt possessed: the power of love.
Lucien didn
’
t care about either of them at the moment, for above Gabriel
’
s head was a vision of opaque white, so beautiful, much like he
’
d
been when he had been one of God
’
s chosen, before he had fallen from grace and the very sight of God. Although, he still shone brightly, he did not glow in silvery perfection.
It was one of the pure. These beings were unlike the fallen or any of the other
s in the
hierarchy of angels. They were not warriors,
as were many angels, they were
creatures made of unconditional love for all things good in this world and in the heavens. For one such as Lucien, they were the most feared, for they were able to
see
him. He could
n
’
t
hide from them for long, and so he dared not linger in any one location.
The tattoo on his right forearm; an elaborate gothic cross, with wings on each side and his name spelled in
the celestial alphabet,
marked his rank and name in the hierarchy itself. All angels had a specific brand marked on the flesh of their forearm. The warriors were all black in color, whereas the pure were marked in silver.
The
pure
appeared whenever it came to battle for the soul of a human that was so close to their own
in
purity
,
one such as Gabriel
’
s.
As for Gabriel, time just stopped. He was frozen in the place he stood,
as if a
watch
had
stopped, giving the illusion that time itself had
ceased
with it. He did not see or hear anything that went on around him.
The Pure were not to be seen by men. They were Heaven
’
s tools of intervention on behalf of human beings and would only show themselves to the ranks of humanity when there was no other choice but to do so, and onl
y upon the very command of God H
imself. For Gabriel, that time
had
yet to come.
Breaking through the all-encompassing silvery, white was a breathtakingly beautiful form of a woman. She stood as a barrier between Lucien and Gabriel.
“
Eva,
”
whispered Lucien in awe
.
She was on the top rung of the hierarchy of the pure.
“
Leave him to God, Lucien
.
”
H
er voice was but a wisp of sound on the air.
“
I do not obey your God any longer or have you forgotten? He will no longer look upon my face.
”
Lucien
’
s voice was filled with
anguish and arrogance.
“
Do not underestimate him, Lucien. That is where your error lies. You underestimate this young boy,
and
the young woman to whom he has pledged his heart and soul.
“
She is a white witch
,
and
al
though she does not know it yet, she has the power to control the laws of nature itself. But, alas, my time grows short. I appear only to warn you, that is all. If you are wise, you will heed this warning for in the end, you cannot win this.
”
Eva
’
s voice and image were waning fast.
“
You
dare
to warn me? You have done nothing but anger me further and I shall have this boy
’
s soul, along with all he holds close to his heart. I shall live as a human male, for that is what I want, and I
shall
have it!
”
Even as Eva
’
s image faded away, Lucien
’
s anger became visceral, and his body vanished into a huge black cloud of swirling smoke and out of this cloud, came long, thin tendrils of moldering ash and soot, climbing like long, sinister fingers. They took Gabriel into their embrace without him ever knowing. It seemed
as if they
’
d disappeared
, but in the very center of the smoke, Lucien held Gabriel close to him as he locked him in his dance of evil.
W
hen Gabriel awoke, he found himself lying on his back in the cool, crisp grass. Looking
up
to the heave
n
s,
he saw
the trees
stretching
their limbs to the sky, the leaves already starting to fall, floating down to the ground gracefully. The afternoon sun was glaring. He put his arm up to shield his eyes from its intensity. As he rose to his feet, he felt disoriented, having no idea where he was. He became fully alert when he saw what lie as far as the eye could see. There were rows upon rows of gravestones, plaques and mausoleums. Large statues of angels in various poses cast massive shadows throughout the cemetery. Some of the gravestones stood straight and tall, while others leaned crazily in different directions.
A large gate proclaimed the name,
“
Oak Hill Cemetery.
”
This graveyard was as he remembered in the days of old. He was in the historic section of the cemetery. The familiar types of headstones now
appeared
old and worn
. He
walked through in amazement, noticing the dates. These were the graves of the long dead.
There were a lot of people
here, walking along with camera
s, taking pictures of the old stones, fascinated by the wording that was engraved on them. And the artist
’
s, no longer able to use rice paper to etch the images as they had done in past years. Banned now, to preserve the integrity of the etched words
, they
drew pictures on large pads of paper, their charcoal pencils moving swiftly. Other tourists stole suspicious glances at him
. After
all, he
’
d
been lying down in the grass of a very famous cemetery, one that was a favorite among tourists for its old tombstones. He remembered Lily saying the cemetery was located in Newburyport.
Why had Lucien brought him here? And then he remembered
.
Lucien had spoken of his knowledge of the resting place of his beloved sister. Of course, she would not be buried anywhere in the heart of this cemetery for it was consecrated ground, but what if her remains were somewhere nearby?
A sense of urgency came upon him, a sense that his time here was short. He had to find her grave, would not rest until he did
.
Imagine
, he thought,
standing on the very ground where her body lie beneath
.
He quickly scanned the entire area, walking the length and width of the large grounds, as the afternoon sun began its descent. Soon the tourists would leave and the gates would be locked at dusk, just as they always were. He had to stay in the vicinity of these grounds and begin his search when everyone was gone and the place was deserted and quiet.
There, at the farthest end of the sprawling cemetery was a large wooded area, covered with so many trees, the ground below them
appeared
dark. He felt inexplicably drawn to those woods, as if the trees themselves were beckoning to him, showing him where he needed to go. He started walking fast and then went into a full run, and as he ran he thought of Lily. Oh, how he wished she were by his side right now.
He did not know where this search would lead and if he would ever see her face again. One thing was
clear
:
he could not go back to the carriage house or to the
Blackstones
’
. He pressed on.
****
Lily was at that very moment at the Salem Witch Museum, pouring over papers and documents, searching for information on Abigail Blackstone. Earlier, she
’
d returned to the carriage house only to find it empty. She puzzled over where he could
’
ve gone and placed a call to the
Blackstones
, who proceeded to tell her what she already knew, that he was no
longer welcome there.
Chloe Blackstone hung up on her.
Unknown to Lily, after Chloe hung up, she
’
d
placed another call
to the Salem Police Department
.
She
spoke with Chief Thompson directly. She was shaking, as she told him that she
’
d
called the
Blackstones
in York, Maine
,
and their son, Gabriel was there now.
But that wasn
’
t the
only
reason she felt compelled to call Chief Thompson. It was
n
’
t
what made her shake with a sickening uneasiness. It was what Mrs. Blackstone had said
after
that. Their son had never left York, had been there all along and had not stepped foot in the city of Salem in years. So, who the hell was this young man they
’
d
allowed to stay in their home?
Chief Jack Thompson had his own theories about Gabriel. He
’
d
grilled
his daughter repeatedly about him, believing that he was the man who
’
d taken Lilac. She stubbornly insisted that it was not so.
She
’
d described Lucien to the police in detail (of course, leaving out
the fact that
he had wings
and was actually a fallen angel
)
.
Her father had a problem with Wicca and dismissed anything that was even remotely supernatural. He
’
d never even consider the truth
,
that Lucien was an evil, supernatural being. Living his entire life in Salem, as a police officer for more years than he
’
d
care to mention, the only real evil he
’
d seen was that which human beings did to one another. There was nothing magical or supernatural about it. It was highly unlikely that it was a coincidence that since Gabriel had come to Salem, mysterious and threatening events had plagued them.