Rafael: Destined Archangels III

Chapter 4: Mission

Rafael

I squat atop one of the rooftops of a tall building in Plaza Reial and watch the humans stroll through the moonlit night, unaware of the dangers surrounding them. It’s a beautiful night in Barcelona. The streetlights gleam below, spotlighting canopied vendor carts, attached buildings with stunning architectural facades, and narrow streets with lush trees. My muscles strain against my dark jeans and sweater, and my eyes search the night for any sight of danger.

It’s after midnight, and you can hear music from nearby clubs blasting in the distance. The tapas restaurants, bars, and clubs are bustling with activities, making it a good time for unpleasant things to occur.

Rising up, I jump from roof to roof and search the night until I hear the distant sound of a woman’s scream. Honing my senses, I release my wings, don my armor, and circle the area until I find what I want.

There are four men in black gear dragging a female toward a van. The female has lilac hair, glowing eyes, and tiny wings, easily identifying her as a pixie. I also recognize the tattoos on the men’s forearms. It’s a hand wrapped in white light. The same tattoo The Hand of God’s soldiers are marked with.

Jaw tight, I swoop down and land before the human males. The men jump back with alarm and draw their weapons as soon as I do. Seeing that she’s no longer the center of attention, the pixie gives me a grateful nod and takes off into the night.

“Stop right there!” one of the soldiers calls out, pointing his rifle threateningly at me. Unfortunately for them, none of them can match my archangel powers. I’m the new Creator, which means I’m far more powerful than any angel, including Lucifer.

My sword gleams like a fiery flame as I expertly slice through one of their weapons. When one soldier shoots at my back, the bullets bounce off my wings and land on the ground with a ping. Kicking him in the chest, I flip back, take another by the neck and forcefully toss him against a nearby brick wall before I punch another one and knock him out. The two remaining soldiers run at me, but I kick one’s knee and punch the other in the face. One falls to his knees, clutching the broken limb with a cry, and the other covers his bleeding nose.

Throwing my power, I bind all men with a spell and flash them to a Council holding cell for questioning. After months of doing this, The Council enforcers know what to do. I should receive a call from one of the enforcers within a day once they’ve questioned the soldiers. Hopefully, we’ll get more information from them than we have from other captured prisoners. So far, we’ve been unable to gain little information from the men. Even our witches are unable to glean anything pertinent from our prisoners. A couple of the witches theorize that the men are under a memory spell that makes them forget once captured. The witches are working on nulling the spell. However, it’s a slow, tedious process that has frustrated the Council and me.

Going back to my vigil on the rooftop, I spend the rest of the night looking out for any more soldiers, but the rest of the evening is uneventful.

The next morning, I shower, dress in comfortable sweats, and contact my Council Liaison.

“We have been searching for Dr. Nassir in Spain for months and have not found him. Are there any other leads?” I ask my contact, Dorian. I met the wolf several months ago when the head of the Council, Mathias Black, asked me to help find The Hand of God’s most prominent member. After working remotely with Dorian for several weeks, I learned he’s quite knowledgeable. The wolf understands what it’s like to be used as a research subject since he was taken and raised in an Institute where they weren’t even allowed to mate. Thankfully, another Alpha werewolf brought down the researchers at the Institute and freed the wolves before the Institute could use them to destroy the Council.

Dorian scoffs. His blond hair and eyes gleam like gold across the video conference screen, “No, and it’s very concerning since the disappearances are escalating. Unfortunately, we still cannot glean any information from the soldiers.”

Jaw tight, I rise from my desk and pour myself some coffee, “Alright, let’s review the information the Council has garnered.”

Dorian grimaces, “I’ll present all of the information I gathered. Let me know as soon as you see it across the screen.”

Taking a sip from my cup, I read the contents on my laptop’s screen. “So it’s true. The Council has verified that other seals are located around the world?”

He nods, “Yes. It’s a theory, but the seals might be a passageway for The Creator or the key to another apocalypse. We’re unsure since there’s very little information about them.”

I shake my head and make a tsking sound, “Does the Council know where the seals are?”

He shakes his head, “No, and the documents you sent us from heaven’s archives do not have any information on the seals. However, we know that The Hand of God knows the seals exist since they’ve tried to open a couple. We learned from their soldiers that The Hand of God is unsure that the places they chose are actual seals. They’re blindly going from sacred site to sacred site and performing the rituals to see if they’ll stick.”

My lips tighten thoughtfully as an old memory sifts through my mind, “That’s foolish, but it will work to our advantage and buy us the time to find them. I might know about the Seals, but I must search my journals. However, I remember that The Creator began cataloging ancient monasteries holding sacred objects that previously belonged to the apostles several centuries ago. He said it was to share information with the other Pantheons. Thinking back on it now, I found it odd that he was interested in something so trivial since we knew Christ and his apostles were not religious messengers sent by The Creator.”

Dorian’s eyes widen, “You think the seals are hidden in these monasteries?”

I nod, “Perhaps, and it’s also possible that the keys to open these seals are there too. I guess I can do some research and see what I can find. We must assume that opening the seals might be catastrophic and that we should keep the Hand of God from discovering their whereabouts.”

Dorian’s brow furrows, “I thought only a female’s archangel blood could open the seal?”

I rub the back of my neck and release a frustrated sigh, “A female archangel’s blood is cathartic. However, they need the blood of all our mates, and since the only one alive is Lana, they decided to combine my and my brother’s essence to make a strong female who can open the seal. This is why they’ve been kidnapping and inseminating strong supernatural females. If they can breed a female with our essences, there’s no limit to what they can do.”

Dorian’s lips tighten, “Wow, I can’t believe they’re going to such lengths.”

I shrug, “One thing I’ve learned from being so long-lived is that the world is full of power-hungry arseholes.”

Dorian shakes his head disappointedly, “Yeah, I learned that the hard way. While you’re looking through your journals and searching for Dr. Nassir, I will continue searching for the Hand of God’s strongholds.”

“Keep me updated,” I mutter before disconnecting the video call.

Seeing that it’s a great time to do this, I go to my library and search for my journals.

I read through my extensive collection for hours until I found the clue I sought.

I have to read the passage several times to piece together some context. I recognize the names of apostles and some existing places. However, there’s very little to go by. The good news is that one of the monasteries nearby is listed in the journal. It’s not much, but it’s something.