Page 11 of The Redeemable 4

Valery shrugged. “They are surviving. Barely. We take turns at being here with the bebes, and one of us is usually with Arcadia. We take it in shifts, though Eli does not rest. As Oz said, he is searching constantly for a foolproof way to mend her body quickly. Tolliver has pulled every string money can buy to get Cady to the top of the transplant list. They have started her on radiation therapy, but the cancer has spread throughout her body and it makes it difficult. But Eli will find a solution. Sam is keeping everything else afloat. Ri is taking the whole thing the worst. He blames himself for her death. Half death, whatever we are calling it. He can hardly look at the bebes, just sits at her bedside and mourns, despite our assurances that she will return to us.” He sounded so stubbornly resolute that it was tough not to believe him.

My poor Ri. He is always so eager to take the blame for every wrong that happens in my life, and he has the bad luck to be there every time things go to shit.

“One problem at a time. We will soothe Orion’s troubled feelings next time we are in town. Right now, we need to see an Angel about a soul.”

Oz reached out and carefully removed Estrella from my arms. The baby let out a small, desolate cry that threatened to crack my black little heart wide open.

I will be back, Little One. Be good for your daddies. Ace, I want to hold Hope, even just for a moment.

“Of course,” I answered Arcadia, and Oz gave me a startled look.

“She’s really in there then?”

I nodded.

“God, I just wish I could hold her, or hear her for myself. It’s killing me,” his voice cracked and I couldn’t help but reach up and stroke his cheek. It may have been Arcadia’s impulse, or mine, but I wasn’t sure.

“I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you can do both of those things. I’m on my way to see Raphael now. By this time tomorrow, we may have a solution.” I walked over and held my hands out to Memphis, who was still entranced by the tiny life in his hands. He whispered to her in the Angelic tongue, and she gurgled happily. He passed her over with confidence, and I took her awkwardly. She was so tiny and delicate. It was hard not to treat her like spun glass.

She is just perfect.

She was, with her tiny rosebud mouth and her tiny little nose, and her-

Ugh. I shook myself out of the mush spiral. Hope's eyes seemed knowing. Older than her sisters, as if she were an old soul.

“We should go,” I whispered, though I could sit here and catalogue Hope's tiny features all day. I placed her back in her Humidicrib. Lux stood beside me as we looked down at the baby.

“Will Raphael help?”

I wanted to lie to him and tell him it was a sure thing, but he wouldn't appreciate empty platitudes designed to make him feel better.

“Maybe. It is in his nature to heal the broken.”

I was secretly worried that we may be too broken to repair, but I didn’t say that out loud. Words spoken had power.

Aleppo, Syria.

I’d been here several decades before Arcadia had even been born, and even then it had been a city that seemed to tremble on a knife edge. Now it was a ruined shell of humanity, a nightmare of rubble and smoke. Raphael would be here. He was drawn to the places of unimaginable suffering, where the weary had rightly lost their faith.

I had no idea… I mean, I knew, I’d seen the passing news coverage, but this. I had no idea… she trailed off, and I didn’t press her. It was a lot to take in, but I had seen wars. All the Wars of Man since the beginning of time, and the Wars of Heaven and Hell. Not even Luc had a hand in this mess, though. Sure, in the beginning, he’d gotten markers against souls on both sides, but this giant clusterfuck was beyond the dealings of Heaven or Hell. This was strictly the purview of man and their failings.

Memphis shook his head. “There is violence in the air. Something is about to happen.” We were both cloaked, our wings held above the ash and dust that littered the ground. I could sense the violent intent in the air. I tilted my head. Air strike.

I looked toward the market across the street, where people still managed to live despite the constant threat of death and destruction.

“I’ll get the people, you get the missile.”

Memphis nodded, and lifted into the air. You couldn’t see anything more than his huge midnight wings as he pushed the missile off course as if it were an annoying insect rather than a piece of equipment that could kill dozens of people. It exploded in the air, shrapnel falling down over the heads of the people in the market. I spread my own wings wide and caught the main flurry of falling steel. I’d miss a little, but a few cuts and bruises were better than death. I hissed against the pain of the debris hitting my wings, but it would all heal instantly.

I stood and shook out my wings as the crowd stared up at the sky. I could hear murmurings of misfiring missiles, and a couple of people praising their deity.

If you guys can stop the missiles, protect the humans, then why doesn’t The Big Guy send down more angels to help these people? Arcadia, with her warm, empathetic soul sounded enraged. I understood her rage all too well.

“It is not the purview of heaven to interfere in the quarrels of men, or their results. As Azriel likes to say, balance must be maintained,” Memphis spat Azriel’s name.

If you interfere in the workings of the world, outside the preordained, you doubt the Father's plans and you fall. It’s a small club so far. You’ve met all four of us. There’s not enough of us to make a difference in any war. We’ll do what we can, but while we aren’t human, we aren’t robots either. We would go mad, or become the heartless demons that Humans believe us to be. Gusion is especially sensitive to the needless death and destruction in the world around him. Each death he’d witness, he would also witness the life the person would have had, had they not been a victim of the war in which they died, I explained to Arcadia privately. Memphis had his own reasons for not crusading for the innocents in every war the humans cooked up, and they weren’t my reasons to share.

“Let's find a field hospital, that’s where Raphael will be,” I said, walking past the oblivious humans. Memphis stopped near a child, no more than two, clutched to the shoulder of his mother, and kissed the top of his head. The baby looked around, and then met Memphis’s eyes. He gave Memphis the warmest smile, and my heart swelled. I was getting plucky or something. That baby would probably be another tiny shroud wrapped corpse before this was over, but hopefully the kiss of an angel, fallen or not, would help ward off destiny. I kissed his tiny, hollow cheek. Two kisses were better than one.

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