Requiem: Book One in The Apocalypse Trilogy

Chapter Three

The last fading light from the Sun filtered in through the windows, casting a golden glow across the Angel that laid in Lorelei's bed. Lorelei sat beside him, working to clean out his wounds. She grabbed his wrists, gently wiping them down with a cloth that had been soaked in hydrogen peroxide, trying to rid his skin of the crusted blood. Lorelei then reached over, dipping her fingers in the homemade salve her father had whipped up, and rubbed it into his skin. She wrapped his wrist in white gauze before she repeated the treatment on the other wrist. 

Lorelei dipped a rag into the ice cold water beside her, ringing most of it out, before she placed it onto the Angel’s searing forehead. A small gasp fell past the Angel’s lips and at first, Lorelei had thought he awoke, but his eyes were still closed. Lorelei cleaned the cuts on his face and his chest, placing light dabs here and there of the salve. His skin felt hot beneath her fingers.

“How is he doing?” Her father asked, standing in the threshold of the door. 

“He’s stable,” Lorelei sighed, wiping the rest of the salve carelessly onto her jeans. “Which is better than how he was when we found him.” 

“Did the morphine work?” 

Lorelei gave a small shake of her head. “I don’t think so. His body temperature is so high that it is burning through any pain medication I give him.”

Her father ran his fingers through his thick, auburn hair. “We won’t know how to help him until he awakes,” Her father removed his glasses, quickly cleaning them off before he placed them back onto the bridge of his nose. “As for what we are going to do with him when he does, that’s something I will have to bring up at the next meeting.”

“What to do with him?” Lorelei asked scathingly. “Dad. He must have been important if someone had kept him imprisoned, and by the looks of the infection in his wrists from where the symbols were carved, I would say he had been imprisoned for quite some time.”

“You said that when you had found him, he had four wings instead of the traditional two, correct?” At this, Lorelei gave a stiff nod. “If that’s the case, I know exactly what kind of Angel we are dealing with. He’s an Archangel, Lorel.” 

“I thought the Archangels didn’t come to Earth,” Lorelei said with a frown. “I’ve heard that only the Angels were sent here.”

“It was only supposed to be us,” Jadis said behind her father, coming to stand in the doorway. 

Jadis was dressed in a gray tanktop and black sweatpants. His dark brown hair was a mess upon his head and Lorelei figured he must have just rolled out of bed. It wouldn’t have surprised her. The Angels that worked along beside them, usually slept until the sun went down. Lorelei hadn’t quite figured out why, but Jadis would never tell. He was secretive that way.

Jadis’ hazel eyes narrowed at the Archangel on the bed, his eyebrows pulling together in concentration. “I don’t see why, after all this time, that they would have sent one.”

Lorelei glanced from the Angel in the doorway, to the Archangel on her bed. “Do you know who he is, Jadis?” 

“He doesn’t look familiar,” Jadis said as he padded into the room, stopping beside the bed. “but who knows. The Archangels seem to be doing whatever the hell they want lately. He could have been promoted to an Archangel.”

“That’s possible?” Lorelei and her father asked in unison.

“Of course,” Jadis said with a careless shrug of his shoulders. “If an Angel shows such a  high devotion to Heaven, he or she can be promoted to an Archangel, although; it takes centuries, if not thousands of years to prove yourself worthy of such a high title.” 

“Do you know what these symbols mean?” Lorelei asked as she undid one of his bandages to show Jadis the symbols on his skin.

“They’re Enochian,” Jadis said and he leaned in, squinting his eyes. “It’s a binding spell.”

“What does that do?”

“A binding spell for an Angel--or in his case--for an Archangel, prevents us from using our Grace. We cannot fight, nor can we Apparate whenever we wish,” Jadis explained. “Or in easier terms, we’re like humans, but with wings.” 

“Sounds craptastic,” Lorelei grumbled, rewrapping his bandages once more. “Jadis, do you know what I can give him for pain? I tried giving him doses of morphine, but his fever is just burning right through it.”

“Step aside, mortal,” Jadis said with a playful wink and Lorelei slapped his arm. “Let a professional show you how it’s done.”

Jadis gently placed his hands against the Archangel’s bare chest. A white light illuminated underneath his fingers, casting long shadows across the floors and walls. His pupils dilated, a blue-white glow surrounding the iris’ of his eyes as he pressed his hands down into the Archangel’s chest. The Archangel’s back lifted up off of the bed, and his face contorted into pain, a small whimper passing through his lips. Sounds of bones snapping and readjusting filled the silence. The urge to vomit surfaced in Lorelei’s mind as she watched Jadis work.

Lorelei always found it fascinatingly beautiful to watch the Angels. Even when they were not helping to heal the wounded, which seemed to be all they were doing lately, they were beautiful. Not just in their looks, but in the way they executed the simplest tasks. Their voices were unlike anything Lorelei had heard before; they were rich, smooth, and there was an underlying echo that was appeasing to the ears.  

The light beneath Jadis’ hands slowly subsided and Lorelei had to blink a few times to rid her vision of the dark splotches. Jadis stepped away from the Archangel, wiping his hands on his tanktop, as if he just finished a surgery, which was kind of what he had done. Well, as much as an Angel could perform surgery.

“His ribs were broken, and he had some internal bleeding, but I patched him up. As for his fever,” Jadis flicked his hazel eyes down at Lorelei. “It’s not that simple to cure a celestial being of sickness. Injuries are a walk in the park compared to healing an Angel’s sickness, which is not only physically demanding on the Angel trying to heal him, but it can also be life threatening. The best way for an Angel to heal from sickness, is to sleep, allowing their bodies to heal for themselves.” Jadis explained.

“How long do you think he’ll sleep?” Lorelei asked.

“Could be hours. Could be days. Could even be weeks,” Jadis said nonchalantly with a shrug. “It truly depends on how sick the Angel is.” 

“Thanks, Jade,” Lorelei said with a light smile.

“Anytime,” He gently squeezed her shoulder before he exited the room. 

Lorelei sat herself back down into the chair right as her father spoke. “I’m going to get some dinner. Are you going to eat with the rest of us? Or are you going to eat here?”

“I’ll eat here,” Lorelei replied over her shoulder, placing an arm on the nightstand beside her and she laid her head down on her arm.

“Alright. I’ll have Jadis bring you a plate later,” With that, her father dismissed himself, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Lorelei watched the Archangel in silence, examining every curve and every sharp point of his face. As the time passed, Lorelei grew sleepy. She blinked back the exhaustion, but it had already taken a toll on her body. Lorelei allowed herself to fall to sleep, her body scrunched up against the nightstand as she slept dreamlessly.