Jayden, an Angel of Death, spread his arms as the soft breeze blew through his dark hair. His thick, black wings beat at his back. As he ascended higher and left the Earth’s atmosphere, the air became still; yet, the silence of the universe almost seemed deafening. To those watching below, he’d look like a ball of light flying across the sky. How many people would briefly shut their eyes and make a wish upon seeing him, thinking of him as a shooting star? Too bad he couldn’t grant any of their wants or needs. Frankly, even if he could, he doubted he would. Years of working as an Angel of Death had made him cynical.
The human race had always been—and would probably always be—barbaric and brutal. The death and destruction caused by wars, hatred, religion, and killing over stupid disagreements had destroyed his belief in the decency of humankind. He supposed that a virtuous standard of morality did exist, but he wasn’t in a position to see it.
The flight to Heaven was a trip he’d made many, many times, but tonight, worry coiled in his gut. His boss, Saint Michael the Archangel, had summoned him. Being called back from duty had proved one of the worst things that could happen to an Angel of Death. It usually meant nothing but trouble, and he tried to think of any souls he’d mismanaged in delivering to Heaven. None came to mind, but after being in this job for over five centuries, he didn’t pay much attention to those dying, their souls, or the situations they found themselves in when death arrived. He did his job and moved on to the next one. Perhaps, that’s where the problem lay. He just didn’t care anymore, and hadn’t for a long time.
A few moments later, he landed at the tall, pearly gates shimmering under the glow of the Creators’ magnificent, white light. They stretched far into the skies, so far he couldn’t see the top of them. The temperature remained a pleasant seventy degrees, and as he walked into Heaven, rose bushes, tulips, and poppies stretched as far as the eye could see while paths made of clouds snaked through the vibrant-colored beauty. He followed one route leading up to a large, white building that stood miles high, climbing upward until he reached the large, crystal doors that would lead him into Saint Michael’s inner sanctum.
Pushing his way through the door, he took a deep breath.
The angel turned to him and smiled. Standing at twelve feet tall, he wore a white robe adorned with crystals. His flaxen hair hung to his shoulders and matched the color of his eyes, as well as the golden glow that surrounded him.
“Angel Jayden. Thank you for coming. Please, sit down.”
He took the chair offered to him at one end of the long, diamond-encrusted table, deciding to remain quiet. Michael did not sit, but paced instead.
“Do you remember the Event of the 1700s?”
Of course he did. Who could forget that mess? Earth, Mars, Venus, Jupiter, Saturn, and Mercury had aligned perfectly, and there’d also been a total lunar eclipse. Those two things separately would be described as special, but together, they’d equaled nothing but trouble as they’d torn open the seams of the universe. All mythical beings, both good and bad, had descended upon a small area of Earth for an epic battle of Good versus Evil. It had been nothing short of complete chaos.
“Yes,” he responded, coolly. “I remember it well.”
Michael nodded. “I’m afraid it’s going to happen again.”
Bloody hell.
Of course, when the Event happened, humans had been caught up in the unrest. His role had not been a warrior fighting for good, but as an Angel of Death, delivering souls to Heaven.
It had been the hardest thing he’d ever endured since becoming an angel all those centuries ago. He’d wanted to fight, to pick up a holy sword and slay all evil that savaged the land, but instead he had to watch as he transported souls to Heaven, most of them going far too soon.
He couldn’t go through that again. He wouldn’t be a spectator this time, especially when he’d been born to fight.
“Michael, it is with the greatest respect that I beg you to not send me back unless I carry a weapon in my hand. I cannot stand by and watch the carnage again, and simply send souls to Heaven. I was a knight during my human life, born and bred for battle. I am not made to idly stand by when there is a war to be fought.”
Michael eyed him for a moment, his expression neutral, then nodded. “Yes. That was my mistake, Jayden. I should have sent you as a warrior. This time, however, will be different.”
Jayden raised his brows at the archangel. If his heart still thudded in his chest, it would have skipped a few beats. He longed to carry a weapon once more, to experience the excitement and adrenaline of combat.
“As I said before,” Michael continued, “the Event is happening again. You will be sent back to Earth in your angel form, which will not require human needs such as food or sleep. Everything will be the same as it is now, except the humans will be able to see you.”
It would be strange to be seen. Humans did not know of his presence until it became their time to die. Only then did he become visible to them. At first, this detail of his existence had bothered him, but now, he simply didn’t care.
“Will I have my wings?”
Michael shook his head. “No. You will, however, retain your ability to sense the presence of other paranormal entities.”
A brief flash of excitement ran through him, but he didn’t want the archangel to know he looked forward to the battle, and he fought to keep his facial features in a neutral position.
“Ulric will be there, Jayden.”
Now, unable to contain himself, he grinned at the thought of burying his sword deep into the heart of his nemesis, and Jayden hoped his face would be the last one seen before he sent the man permanently back to Hell.
“And so will Arabella.”
His eyes widened as he gripped the arms of the chair he sat in. His Arabella would be at the Event? How? In what capacity? She’d died centuries ago, in the year 1476, while he’d still been a living, breathing human. He didn’t understand how she would be at the Event. If she dwelled in Heaven, it wouldn’t be as an angel, but one of the souls who lived in Bliss, an area where he had no access. Michael would never send any of them into battle, which could only mean one other thing—she resided in Hell.
However, that seemed like an unlikely explanation. Although she’d been considered a bit of a peculiar woman for her time, none of her behavior he had witnessed had ever qualified her for such a punishment.
Michael stared at him, then answered to his unspoken confusion. “Her life was taken so brutally, and at such a young age, The Creator decided to allow her to reincarnate. She is in her second lifetime.”
He sighed in relief. She hadn’t been sent to Hell, but given the gift of life again.
“How old is she?” Jayden questioned.
“She’s thirty.”
“What of her life? Is she married? With children?”
Michael shook his head. “No.”
His mind raced at the thought of seeing her again. Of course, she wouldn’t know who he had been to her all those centuries ago, but he, on the other hand, could never forget. That was the way of reincarnation—those lucky enough to be given a second life didn’t remember their first.
Michael continued. “Since Ulric killed her in her first life, you have to assume he will try again.”
His head snapped up and his hands balled into fists as anger coursed through him. “How would he even know she’s there?”
“They are bound by her death. He will sense her, and we have to assume that he will want to kill her again. He’s a demon, after all.”
He’d spent centuries living with the guilt of being unable to save Arabella, and he’d be damned if he would fail her again.
He got to his feet, eager to find Ulric and gut him. “When do I leave?”
“Soon. But there is one more thing, Jayden.”
“What is it?”
“I understand your fury and bloodlust urged you to kill Ulric all those centuries ago. Your love for Arabella proved to be pure, untainted, and beautiful. Even when she had been Ulric’s wife, you continued to love her, not with your body, but with your heart.”
The sharp pain of losing her railed through his chest, as if her death had happened yesterday, and not so very long ago.
“She didn’t want to marry him,” Jayden insisted. “Her father arranged the marriage—she had no choice!”
“I know. But now, it’s possible that you’ll be granted a second chance with her.”
His head swam, and he gripped the back of the chair for support.
“Excuse me?”
“Her heart is lonely, yet she doesn’t know how to fix it.”
He furrowed his brow, hating to think of his Arabella as anything but happy.
“Your death was a noble one, Jayden. Once the seven days of the Event have passed, you will have the option of coming back to Heaven and living amongst the souls in Bliss. Your every need will be taken care of, and you will want for nothing. Or, you can choose to remain on Earth and live as a human, as long as two conditions are met.”
“What are those?”
“First, Ulric must be sent to Hell permanently, which means Arabella must deliver the death blow. If she doesn’t kill him, he will remain on the earthly plane and hunt her until he can take her life again. If he succeeds in murdering her, he will take her down to Hell, and other lives will be lost in the process. Arabella will never be safe. The second condition is that she must want you to stay.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
“You will come back here and live amongst the souls.”
He could have sworn his jaw had become unhinged, as it hung open in surprise.
Sometimes, when a human sinned horribly, as he’d done by taking Ulric’s life, The Creator gave them a chance to redeem their souls instead of sending them straight to Hell. He did this by giving them the job of Angel of Death, a horrible task they must work at day in and day out without respite for as long as He deemed fit. Apparently, after five hundred plus years in his role as an Angel of Death, The Creator had decided he’d atoned for the murder.
He simply couldn’t believe what he’d heard, so he questioned Michael for clarification. “So, my time as an Angel of Death has come to an end?”
“Yes. Now go. You will be summoned shortly to take your position in the fight against Evil. The Event will begin soon.”
“Thank you, Michael.”
He left the building, and followed the cloud path downward. Excitement tore through him at the thought of seeing Arabella again, as did rage when he considered Ulric anywhere near her.
It had been a long time since he’d had a choice in his station—in life or in death. Now, he had to decide whether to live among the souls in Bliss, or become human again and have a second chance with Arabella. Either would mean sheer heaven for him, but one definitely sounded better than the other.
The Creator had given him the opportunity to renew his love with Arabella, and he’d much rather spend time with her than stay in Heaven.
He only had seven days to convince her of the love they’d once had, help her slay her killer from another lifetime, and hopefully persuade her that she wanted him to stay on Earth with her.
He shook his head. “It’s going to be a busy week.”