A Dying God (Book 2)

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Isis- Unwanted help

With renewed purpose, I hurry to my studio in the Third Level of Heaven. I want to get out of these nauseating military clothes and into an outfit that is more suitable for a woman of my superior rank. It’s another way of discarding yesterday from memory.

My flat is luxurious in size and full of new age furniture. I recently had a designer come in and redo the entire expanse, setting a more contemporary design with a mix blend of gray and white. The layout is so abundant that I have two sitting areas, a reading area, and a section in the corner to draw and paint.

I don’t sit, I don’t read, and God knows I don’t paint but every Erelim must have an extravagant home to show off. I’ve not used this place in decades but I have a servant that keeps it up to date with fashion.

The bedroom is as lush with a king sized mattress rounded at the base. A bright green comforter attracts the eye matching a random art piece above the bed. I do not have dressers. All of my clothes hang in the walk-in closet.

A hundred pairs of shoes line the wall on the left. In the back are accessories, color-coordinated and divided accordingly. On the right, two tiers of clothes begin with bottoms, then shirts and lastly dresses. It is not an overabundance of clothing. I have had most of my collection brought down to the Sofitel.

I change swiftly into a navy blue gown with silver lining, ridding the boots and replacing them with heels. The simple transformation is silly, no doubt, but it makes me feel better. I am a beautiful woman. No one can stay upset with me for long.

When a knock sounds, courage is easy for me to gather. Facing the wrath of bitter victims will soon be an annoying time waster. The faster I can get over the first, the sooner I can move on.

Matthias is before me. In Soul form, he lacks the tattoos and the piercings that ruin his Earth body. His black skin is clear and pure. Instead of being bald, he has thick dreads hanging from his scalp and though his features differ slightly, his eyes and voice are clearly the same.

I’m teaching him how to alter a human body but he is still too young to completely shape his Soul. It won’t take much longer for him to master it. If he didn’t glower at me, I would be impressed.

There is gauze encircling his bicep. Bright red blood soaks through it, alarmingly. If I managed to hurt him, a Hikmah Elder, no doubt there were worse injuries obtained by lesser Souls.

He clenches his jaw. “Are you well?”


“How fortunate.” His lips tremble with the anger he tries to suppress. “Because there are fifty three Angles in the healing ward that weren’t so lucky.” He shoves his way inside, slamming the door.

I will let him rant. I deserve it. Then I will smash him from his high cloud.

“What were you thinking? Were you thinking at all? Do you know what you have done? You’ve put that entire base at risk. We have to abandon it. Two weeks they’ve worked on it and now we have to move. We can’t keep you there. Do you know how hard it is to hide you? That’s not even the worst of it. A hundred and fifty have left. They don’t want to fight for you. They fear you! Angels are scared enough of the world as it is, they won’t fight for a tyrant.”

He paces around the room, careless to my silence.

“Four people left the clan, outraged by your audacity. An Elder! We lost an Elder! Lynette, you may not have cared for her but she had power and she knew an awful lot about the Darkness, which would come in handy in the war to come.” He steps down into the living room, clenching his hands. “You have been so careless! You think I don’t know about Egypt?” He looks up to me as if betrayed. “You think I don’t know that was you? I know who you are, Isis. More specifically, I know what you are. Yet foolishly I’ve grown to love you. Why do you do these things? Why must you assert your power? You are an Erelim. The world bows at your feet. Isn’t that enough for you?”

“Are you finished?” I finally ask.

“Does it matter? Nothing got through.” He steps to leave but I shove him and he falls upon the couch, looking up at me, enraged.

“Do you think I do not feel guilt? Do you believe I am impassive to the wails of their cries? Then what could you possibly love about me if you think I am such a beast? You do not love me sir. I am a good fuck and nothing more. You pretend, as many of the others, to love. But just as the others, they leave. So leave me, Matthias.”

I go to walk out, only for him to grasp my hand. I struggle as much as I can but his muscle overpowers mine as It has always. He pulls me down upon him, forcing me to straddle his waist, maneuvering my legs deep against his hips. Matthias holds me tight, his hands gripping my biceps so I cannot escape. “What are these eyes for?” He looks up at me, narrowed in suspicion.

I look away, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Is it remorse? Or do you trick me as you have done before?”

I jerk in frustration. “Of course I regret my actions. Do you think I’m senseless? I know what I’ve done.”

He smiles softly, “You regret only because you think you have too. You are saddened and ashamed because you think that is the typical human response to such a situation. I doubt you actually feel it, in your Soul.”

“You believe you know everything, sir. How well you know me.”

He adjusts, shifting to lean up so his lips near mine. He presses them against my cheek, down my neck and into the deep cleavage of my dress. “I do know you well, Isis.” His hand rises to the back of my neck, mixing in with black tresses, squeezing and pulling harshly, yanking my head back. My heart fastens and I bite my lip to stop a delighted moan. “I know after you’ve been angered, you desire to forget your troubles by the use of a rough,” He yanks me closer, “Hard,” his tongue finds mine and we battle for dominance for several moments before he drifts from me and we pant in each other’s faces, “lover.”

My fingers delve down between us, “Perhaps you do know me.”

He suddenly snatches my hand, stopping my process. “But I won’t be used anymore, Isis.” He shoves me to the side and stands, glaring down at me as if I’m beneath him. “And you won’t be forgetting the damage you’ve done. Go visit the ward. See how many you’ve injured. You’re lucky you didn’t kill anyone!” He fastens for the door, leaving me speechless.

I hear it open, staring at the floor, unable to respond.

“Tessa’s taken off. We can’t find her. She’s another victim of your abuse.”

It slams and I’m left alone.

What do I care of Tessa? Or of any of them for that matter? They are all inconsequential. I have God’s love and that is the only love I need.

I rise from my seat, searching for heels to match my dress. I fuss with upset, mumbling to myself. Angels judge what they do not understand. They talk and gossip, outraged on my overreaction but they do so only to pass time. In the great scale of things, was it really a big deal? This blunder won’t be written in the books of our history. It will be forgotten like my sons and daughters that are dead and gone.

I stomp away from my apartment, bypassing the multiple hallways. I must find Kyla before Lucius. If I can heal God, all the mistakes I’ve made will be forgiven. I will be praised and worshiped.

This is my purpose. This is the reason I’ve been kept alive. It is to kill that girl. And I will not fail.


“Madam Isis.” Swinging my head around, I find Arch Michael hurrying to my side. His armor clings together and he holds the hilt of his sword steady to keep it from knocking. Blue eyes, bright and brilliant shine and contrast against the black of his skin. The thick muscle of his body is sleek and fierce, it’s wonderfully overpowering. Every time I look at him, I’m overcome with the feral desire to find what he hides under the limited clothing he wears.

He bows, somewhat oddly, unsure how to greet me. Such a beautiful man becomes pathetically dissatisfying as he stumbles over his words and struggles to make eye contact. His wings curl tight behind him, depicting even more so how intimidated he feels.

When Arch Barachiel left, he did so suddenly and without warning leaving a vacant spot in the Family. As it happened Michael was fairly new to Heaven and his name still reverberated through the halls, hailing his prodigious human lives. The population voted out of popularity. Perhaps if they looked behind the robust, herculean form of his and notice the miniscule intelligence and terrible talents for conversation, he’d be just a normal Newborn instead of an Arch.

“Yes?” Irritability is impossible to hide at this point.

“Um.. Yes, I. I am here to um…escort you to…” His constant stalling clenches my teeth in effort to stop my reprimand. He and I are of equal status despite his age. He is an Arch and I cannot show any disrespect in public, not with my recent fiasco. “to your base on Earth.”

“Why?” I quickly rectify my response, “my lord?”

He smiles warmly, “I…I know I’m, not very verbose, but I’m knowledgeable in operating a military campaign. I believe.. I can help you.”

I force a beaming reply, though any other would more likely see it as a sneer. “Thank you, sir. But I can manage.” I flip around stepping away.

Unfortunately, he follows, “Madam, I’m afraid…” He clears his throat, “The Merci, has asked. I assist.”

I spin and he stumbles to stop himself from running into me, his dentai wings fluttering, pressing against the wall behind him. He nervously looks to the ground, flipping them up to me then returning to the floor again, never taking his hand off of his sword.

“I’ve already proceeded. As demanded. You…You couldn’t be found. You see, and I had little choice. I’ve instructed, you’re Lieutenant General, Tee, to assist me. I’d like to see, the, the changes.” His wings flutter in apprehension. He attempts to smile as I stare but it falls flat and his eyes return to the floor waiting for my response.

I shouldn’t be surprised. Did I assume I would get off free of charge because the Supreme Ruler of Heaven forgives? The Merci will make sure I succeed. Even if I become nothing more than a mere shadow in the background, they will have their victory. I nod mindless and he motions me forward.

I can devour this youngster so easily. I will bring him to Earth, unto my territory and he will not last but a moment. These Heaven patrons, they think they know everything because they can view the world and see so much. They believe they have so many answers. I know that’s how they think because I was like that. When Ariel handed me the Icelandic Range, I was sure I could rectify all the mistakes she was constantly making. She paid little attention to the South, she relied too much on her medicines, and she moved too often. But it is not as it seems. There are reasons behind everything and until you are at the forefront of those qualms, you cannot know for certain.

Michael will learn this. I will teach it to him brutishly.

Nearing the exit, Arch Gabriel exits Uriel’s office, greeting us with a false pleasantness. Without wings, she isn’t as easy to read but she flitters from one golden foot to the next, apprehensive and hardly capable of keeping still.

She flicks her short, child-like hair out of her tiny eyes and inclines her head, “Erelim Isis.” She looks to my left. “Michael.” Gabriel replaced Jophiel, a thousand years ago and has since proved her worth in such a position, unlike her brother. She is only forty five hundred years old but knows her place well.

Arch Uriel stands at the doorway, taking up the width of the entrance. His Lumpus wings lay dormant displaying how a mature Angel wears such privileged additions. Thick braided hair hangs down over his bare chest and tiny bells tie at the tips. My eyes can’t stop falling down along his rippled pectorals and sculptured abs.


Heat rushes to my cheeks and I meet the weight of his ardent stare.

“What are you doing with this boy?”

Raising a hand to my lips, I hide my smirk, “Are you jealous, my lord?”

“Hardly. I won’t have you corrupt his youth.”

“Do not fret, sir. I’ve sworn off men for the time being.”

“It is a blessing then. We may come from hiding.”

“Have you been hiding from me? A courageous and powerful man such as you?”

Gabriel groans smacking her face, “Oh, gross, will you stop it already?” Michael chuckles lightly, bowing his head. “Thank God I wasn’t around when you two were going at it. If it’s this bad now, I can’t imagine what it was like then. We’ve been blessed, Mike.”

We ignore her jabber, staring at one another. Uriel questions me again, “Where do you lead him?”

“To Earth.” His heavy brows knit. “He is to teach me,” I use the word ‘teach’ deliberately, “the ways of military refinement.”

His attention swiftly flips to Michael, “Do you dare presume you have anything to lecture this woman about?”

I lick my lips to stop my smile. I love it when a man fights for me. There is just something about it that causes my belly to rumble.

Michael’s wings curl into his back as a dog’s tail might coil between its legs. His eyes flick up and down, as he stumbles on a response, “My. I. I did not mean to offend. My choice is limited. The Merci orders my hand. Madam Isis, you--”

Uriel cuts him off, “She is Erelim Elder to you, boy.”

I place a soft hand on Uriel’s wide bare shoulder, “My, what sibling rivalry. You mustn’t fight between yourselves. What will God think?”

Michael bows his head, his wings depicting the sadness of his heart. He is so easy to read, no wonder Uriel picks on him. He is fresh meat.

Uriel openly glares, “The Merci. Yes, you are their marionette. I should have known it is the only reason you meander far from your legion.”

With soft eyes, pleading for understanding, his blue eyes rise, “You think so little of me, brother, but please, pardon me from such a comparison. I am not a slave.”

“Pay attention, child. I did not title you slave. You complicate slave and puppet. There is a difference. What is the difference you ask? A slave feels the sting of the whip lashed upon its back by its master. A puppet is senseless to the strings that pull it to obey.” Uriel forces his gaze elsewhere. “Go. Any further witlessness I hear and you will shame the Arch name.”

Taut and so evidently hurt, Michael bows his head and takes for the exit.

Gabriel pursues her lip, “That was a little unkind.”

He glares down his nose at her, “If you desire a new brother, then our option is to force him to leave. Since none of you have the heart to do so, I will take on that role myself. Save your judgments for the new member of the Arch Family.”

With disappointment lingering in her gaze, she disappears. Gabriel is God’s Messenger and as long as she wears her gold shoes she can travel at the speed of light.

I meet Uriel’s eyes and his taciturn stare is beginning to be intimidating. “I must go.”

“Isis.” I keep my feet. “It is needless to say, you must protect him while he is in your care. I may not like Michael, but any threat upon his life is not acceptable. He is immature and comprehends nil of Earth. I hold you in charge of his inanity.”

I lean close to Uriel’s space, looking up to meet his eyes. “And what do I get in return?”

A smirk slowly rises upon his thin lips. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen this expression and I must say it is a welcoming sight. “I will conjure up some kind of reward.”

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