Godforsaken: Book 1 (Shade of Light) (6 page)

“I did hear you, and I want to thank you for
it. Sister,” Lily’s hug became tighter around her friend, “I love
you.”

“I love you, too,” Nancy said.

* * *

Only Samael’s car was alive on the dead
street, swallowed up by the gloom. The headlights were struggling
against the darkness. Samael sat in the car, gawking unblinkingly
out through the windshield like a statue. The engine was still
roaring, its harsh voice breaking the silence of the street. The
radio's low music flooded the car, but Samael wasn't listening.

He couldn’t tell how long he had been
sitting like this, maybe an hour or more, but finally the raindrops
hitting the windshield brought him back. He blinked at last, lifted
his hands, and rested them on the steering wheel. The next moment,
Samael hit the gas pedal, and the car started off with a loud
screech.

Something had changed in Samael since Lily
had left him alone. What it
was
Samael didn’t know yet, but
the creature sitting before the steering wheel had still recognized
the changes deep inside his chest.
But what could Lily possibly
change in him?

The car picked up speed. For twenty minutes,
Samael rushed through New York like a bullet. Finally, he came to a
stop in front of a little church. No lights were on to illuminate
it, and it almost seemed to merge with the darkness, where it stood
beneath the blackened clouds.

Samael got out into the drizzle, slamming
the door shut, and looked up into the dark sky. Stray drops found
their way onto his face. Samael stretched his arms out wide, like
he trying to embrace them. He stood beside the car about a minute,
peering into the dark sky as though demanding an explanation from
God for the changes in him. Nonetheless, no answer came from the
Creature. Samael tilted his head, lowering his hands to his sides,
and started forward to the church purposefully, splashing through
puddles.

The main gates opened by themselves as if
the church had been waiting for him. Samael slid in and the gates
shut after him in the same independent way.

The inside was quiet, the sound of the rain
outside dying away, and nothing could be heard but Samael’s
footsteps, growing closer and closer toward the altar. The hazy
hall was illuminated by a blue light coming from the floor – no
lamps, no candles, just light from nowhere. He purposefully crossed
the hall along the aisle between the empty pews, and finally
reached the altar. Raindrops dripped down to the marble floor from
his long, drenched hair.

Absolute quiet fell as he halted, even
Samael’s breath was inaudible. It seemed like the walls of the
monastery absorbed every noise. His widened green eyes sought out
and found a large picture of Christ mounted on the wall in front of
him. Samael examined it suspiciously and carefully, as though
looking for hidden secrets.

“Samael.” A kind voice broke the silence
from behind. Samael himself didn’t move or even blink in reply. He
stood frozen in place, until the man calling out to him walked
across the hall and came to a stop next to him.

“What has brought you here at this late
hour?” The newcomer asked, admiring the same picture Samael was
staring at.

Samael turned to face him. Standing next to
Samael was a monk as tall as he was, with blonde, curly hair
scattered upon his shoulders. His hands were hidden under his black
cassock. Though there was no smile on his face, Samael sensed the
expression in his kindly, light brown eyes.

“I daresay you’re the only one who is happy
to see me nowadays,” Samael said seriously.

“I’m happy to see everyone who crosses these
gates, my brother.” The monk agreed in a cheerful voice. “But I’m
guessing you are not happy at all.”

“Happiness is unfamiliar to me, you know
that,” Samael said, averting his eyes from the monk. He glanced
somberly at the picture anew, then looked down at the floor.

“We often think that feelings are unfamiliar
for us, but we’re mistaken,” the monk responded quietly, stepping
forward to the candle on the altar. Giving his hand a light wave,
the candle lit itself and its yellow flame illuminated both of
them. “There were several of us that thought like you once – but
what do you think? What do they struggle for now?”

Samael didn’t answer the monk. He remained
looking down dumbly at his hand where he had thrust it into his
trousers’ pocket.

“Maybe a glass of red wine will open your
soul and you’ll spill out what has brought you to me, Samael?” the
monk went on as soon as he realized that Samael wasn’t planning on
replying.

“I wonder,” Samael said, ignoring the offer,
“whether there might be anybody able to fight my power?”

“There might well be, Samael.” The monk’s
face split into a shallow smile. “That’s why life is so
wonderful.”

“It’s boring,” Samael contested rapidly. He
peered up at the monk, his eyes slightly glittering in the candle
light. “What kind of beauty can you see in this world, Raphael? I
live the same way every day, I receive the same questions every
damn day.”

“You’ve been watching all this time and yet
you haven’t conceived of anything that could make you happy.”

“If you have conceived the answers, what
have you changed?” Samael’s voice sounded through the empty room.
He dramatically lifted one hand into the air. “You have achieved
nothing but war,” he announced. “Nothing,” he repeated confidently.
“That’s why He chose me to keep the gates, Raphael.”

“And you lost a lot, my friend.” The monk
grinned again, closing on Samael. He stared into Samael's eyes with
curiosity. “I can see the change in your eyes. What has
occurred?”

Samael didn’t falter, refusing to turn his
face away from Raphael. Instead, he looked back at the monk
bravely. “Can any human see our true self? Is it even possible?” he
asked tonelessly.

The smile on Raphael’s face faded away, his
eyes narrowed into seriousness. The monk peered down at the ground,
distinctly preoccupied by his own memories and thoughts.

“It's possible, isn’t it?” Samael reckoned,
noting the change in Raphael’s mood.

“Why are you sure that someone saw your true
colors?” Raphael mused.

“I’m not sure. I only suspect,” Samael
corrected, making a step closer the altar. After a little while,
the monk’s eyes followed after him.

“You feel something,” Raphael said
suspiciously. “I was right, something changed inside you.”

“Nothing can be changed in me,” Samael
shouted aloud, his angry voice shaking the walls. His eyes filled
with malice. In a second, the guy Lily had met in the club
transformed into a demon. “You always wish for me to be changed,
but I never understood why. We were created like this, and are
supposed to exist like this.”

“Calm down, Samael,” Raphael, on the
contrary, was unconcerned. “You’re in one of
Father’s
houses.”

“I’m not serving him anymore–” Samael went
on angrily, remorselessly but the monk cut him off with a
gesture.

“But you’re his guest now,” Raphael
announced, “and the guest should show some respect to the host in
his house.”

Samael squinted at Raphael, then his
irritated eyes relaxed momentary. He blinked, keeping his eyes shut
for too long.

“The reason for me coming here is a girl,”
he muttered under his breath, though the monk could hear his voice
very clearly in the silent church. Lily’s face popped into his view
and soared around him–he couldn't help but picture her expression
when they had been dancing in the club.

“I see,” Raphael sighed putting his hand on
Samael’s shoulder. “Women have a very mighty power, you see? A
woman is like a cage filled with that power, until a man drags it
out from inside her.”

Samael stared at Raphael uncomprehendingly.
“Love, my brother,” Raphael grinned, “love is the way to pull that
power out into the light.”

“What kind of power, Raphael? Are you
jesting?” Samael arched his eyebrows and the corner of his right
eye twitched.

“Haven’t you seen behavior of a man who has
fallen in love?” The monk spun around to face the altar. “In the
thrall of love, he gains the strength to fight and,” he raised his
finger into the air, “a reason to fight for. All the greatest wars
of history were dependent upon one thing, Samael – the love of
women.”

“I daresay you’re mistaken,” Samael argued,
looking at the back of Raphael with pensive eyes. “There was only
one reason, and it’s to gain power over others.”

“Not a single man could reach that power
without the strength of love fueling him.” The monk eyed Samael,
his brown eyes glittering with some kind of sadness. “You bothered
with nothing but keeping the gates of the garden. You were not
interested in man’s wars at all–”

“And I’m still not interested.”

“But everything that you can see around you
has been built by the life you are rejecting. You think you are
emotionless? That you don’t feel anything?”

“I
am
emotionless–” Samael protested
instantly.

“You don’t believe your words either, do
you?” Raphael mocked. Samael opened his mouth then thought against
it. “Why did you follow Lucifer down to Earth that time?”

“I believed in the changes he could’ve
made,” Samael said back with a faded voice. “Every one of the
followers believed in them.”

“I don’t think they did–”

“Then you’re wrong again,
Healer
,”
Samael grumbled and spun around. He made his way promptly toward
the gates.

The monk gazed at his back surreptitiously
while Samael crossed the hall to leave. The gates opened on their
own again and the rain’s voice crawled into the hall like a wave. A
flurry of raindrops wandered in across the air, and the candle
flame shuddered.

“Supposedly you came here because you
believe you have changed, Samael,” Raphael shouted accusingly, and
Samael halted by the gates, tilting his head down. “You obviously
hate being unable to understand it, and I’ll pray that this girl
will help you find what you’ve been looking for for so long.”

“I’m not going to make the same mistake that
Lucifer once made.” With these contemptuous words Samael started
off. He went out into the rain with a whoosh and vanished into the
dead of night.

* * *

Raphael kept staring at the empty spot. He
pondered. Why had Samael come? What did he hope to gain from
Raphael? Samael had talked, but ultimately told Raphael nothing. He
was too clever to put his cards on the table so easily. His visit
had had a very high purpose.

The gates seemed to forget to shut.
Raindrops burst into the church and mingled with the blue unearthly
light inside.

That night, Lily dreamed about the stranger.
The mystical stranger from the club forced his way into her dream.
He was on the top of a mountain, staring down into the abyss
beneath. There was a beautiful garden surrounding the mountain. It
was as if he was in heaven, and was miserably looking down on
Earth.

He sat on an isolated patch of green grass,
his hands on his legs. His hair blew back in the wind coming from
the endless horizon, where the sun was about to rise. He was clad
in a knight’s steel armor.

In the dream, Lily stood several steps
behind him. She paced barefoot along the path that led to him. In
spite of the unearthly beauty surrounding her from every side, her
eyes were pinned on him. She knew she was unable to avert them. Her
legs were forcing her ahead of their own volition. She felt the
same helplessness she had felt when she had found herself in the
stranger’s arms. There was no way for her to stop herself from
approaching him, he was like a magnet attracting her body and mind
at the same time.

Abruptly, the horizon
changed into a golden yellow and the first rays of sun broke into
the sky. As the sunlight reached him, Lily stopped dead, totally
petrified. He shone like silver. What kind of beautiful
creature
was
he?
At that very moment, she spotted two gray wings emerging from his
back, just as she had seen at their first meeting in the club. They
were half-opened in the wind and shone brighter than his skin and
uniform.

Nature trailed off. No
wind, no birds, nothing but absolute silence as the sun rose. It
was as if the world itself was admiring the mystical
angel’s
beauty
too.

Looking absently for some seconds, she
mustered up her courage and made her way toward him. He remained
motionless, not noticing her approach. He stared down enjoying the
warmth of the upcoming sun.

Lily came up and halted beside him, but he
kept ignoring her. She regarded him and felt a strong desire to
collapse to her knees, hug him, and kiss him. She opened her mouth
to speak to him, but had no question to ask. Lily didn’t even know
his name.

She remained still, waiting for him to
acknowledge her presence, but the man kept looking away. Lily
turned her eyes away from him and peered in the same direction as
he did, holding her breath. Beautiful white clouds like balls of
cotton came into her view, paralyzing her instantly from head to
toe. She was standing on the edge of heaven, with the whole world
beneath in her palm. She had never seen such a wonderful sunrise
before. The beauty of the whole world was at her feet, and she just
had to bend forward and snatch it up.

Finally Lily's lungs gave in and made her
suck in a huge breath. He heard her inhaling and turned to face her
at last. Their eyes met steadily, and Lily had to hold her breath
again. His eyes beamed out an unnatural light as if there was some
sort of liquid mingling with the air.

Suddenly, she jerked awake, breathing
rapidly as though she had been choked. She sat bolt upright in bed,
the dream scene still twinkling before her eyes. The new day had
already started, but the sun was hidden behind blackened clouds. It
was probably going to rain soon.