God's Gone AWOL

[2] Breaking the News

Everything back in Jericho was as they left it.

"We need to get Hazel and get out of here as soon as possible." Atticus pulled Bentley up the front steps of his house.

Before, he had been so preoccupied with "angel-napping" Bentley that he hadn't even thought about Heaven yet. He had already guessed that people were out looking for her, but it hadn't even occurred to him that he was also a person of interest. He had accidentally stolen a piece of God's soul without realizing what it was. Even if his fellow angels didn't know that he was aiding and abetting one of their worst enemies across all four realms, they would probably come knocking eventually.

It had only been a couple hours since the incident in the church. And Atticus wasn't a particularly important angel. So it wasn't a surprise that he wasn't top of the heavenly priority list. But after hearing Frances mention the new Bentley bounty, he was suddenly reminded of his situation. He really had to get everyone to a safe place before they did anything else.

If Bentley would actually let him, of course.

"Atticus." She tugged her bindings, stubbornly refusing to follow him into the house.

"Bentley?" He turned around.

"What are you doing?" She asked,

"What do you mean?"

On the other side of the door, Hazel was still sitting on the stairs. As soon as she heard the muffled voices coming through the wood, she jumped to her feet. If she opened the door and addressed the two directly, she would once again be ignored or given vague answers to all her questions. So this time, she just pressed her ear against the door, listening very carefully to the conversation happening on the other side.

Behind her, a loud groan sounded from the living room.

Owen came stumbling out into the hallway, rubbing the back of his head and blinking around with big, bleary eyes. The sleeping charm had finally worn off.

"Haz'l?" He squinted through the dark of the hallway, "What just-?"

"Shh!"

She waved her hand hurriedly, beckoning him over. Bewildered, Owen obeyed and shuffled up to the door as well.

On the other side, Bentley and Atticus were still going at each other.

"Why are you here?" The demon asked.

Atticus tilted his head, confused.

"I might have returned from the dead to raise up the end of the world, and yet you're just following along?" She elaborated.

"I'm not following," Said Atticus. "I'm monitoring. The closer I am to you, the easier it is to stop you if something goes wrong,"

Bentley snorted, "Of course,"

"Plus, Hazel is my friend. Having me by your side is an asset in this case,"

"I can't argue with that," Said Bentley, "But you did pose a good question. How do we explain to that kid that she's... y'know..."

Finally having succeeded in diverting Bentley's attention, Atticus let out a little breath of relief.

"If these were the olden days, we could just explain everything in a dream and the person would just accept it," He said, "Unfortunately, humans have started to dismiss anything supernatural. I'm afraid that unless she's given direct proof, Hazel won't be able to accept anything that we tell her,"

"I mean, we don't have to prove anything if you think about it. We can just kinda... Kidnap her and-"

"There will be no k********g," Atticus told her.

"Oh yeah?" Bentley waved her tied up hands in the air. "What's this, then?"

The angel said nothing. Instead, he gently held her wrists in his hands and that white cord gracefully unraveled itself, releasing its hold on Bentley completely. Then it disappeared back into Atticus' sleeve without a sound.

"This was just a security measure," He said, "If I hadn't dragged you off, Heaven may have already found you by now. Think of it as protection from my fellow angels,"

"If you think I'm going to forget the fact that you literally stabbed me to death, you are very wrong,"

This was an unprovoked punch to the gut.

"You already have," Atticus said, his voice barely more than a breath.

"Pardon?"

"Now that you're here, I'm willing to help you," He said clearly, "That's all that should matter. Even if you don't believe me yet, I do really want to help you. So from this moment on, we focus on the present and what we can deal with right now. Angels, demons, wars, and peace treaties don't matter if they aren't in front of us, okay?"

The air was silent for a moment. Bentley looked at Atticus as though she was studying him. Looking for any trace of deception. Of course, there was nothing. Whether because Atticus had perfected the art of looking innocent, or because he truly harbored no ill intentions, there was nothing wrong with his request.

However, she still wouldn't trust him completely, no matter what.

"Okay," She said, "I'll follow along and pretend you're playing nice, but only because you healed me. If you make one false move, I will not hesitate to turn you into a puddle of golden goo, you understand?"

Even though she spoke as though she were the higher power, this was the equivalent of Bentley throwing down a white flag and admitting defeat. Atticus couldn't help but smile as he gave a nod in agreement. He had won this battle... for now.

And then the front door was thrown open. Hazel and Owen stood in the frame, staring at Atticus and Bentley with wide eyes as though they were a pair of complete strangers. Judging by the expressions on their faces, Atticus figured they must have caught a significant part of the previous conversation. And taken out of context, it must have been quite an absurd thing to listen to.

"Atti... What on earth are you two talking about?" Owen asked.

"Were you spying on us?" Bentley's eyes started glowing slightly.

"Who cares if we were?" Said Hazel, "It's not like either of us can understand a word you're saying anyway"

Atticus and Bentley exchanged glances.

"I suppose I can explain," He said with a sigh, "Everyone, go back inside,"

...

The first thing they did was cast a spell over Owen so he shut up. Now he was positioned in a corner, as stiff as a board. Unable to move, unable to speak, and unable to understand anything that was going on around him. His eyes were still open, but his consciousness was powered down for the time being. In this case, the less he knew about the situation, the safer he would be. Plus, not having him around to mess up the conversation with his severe lack of intelligence did help a little bit when informing Hazel of the exact situation.

Under the warm light of the living room lamp, Atticus and Bentley tried their very best to explain the secrets of Heaven, Hell, Earth, and Purgatory. But Hazel, for some strange reason, did not seem to grasp the whole idea. After a considerable amount of awkwardness, Atticus finally found that Bentley's blunt and unreasonable way of putting things may have actually been more effective on Hazel than his own jaded and censored explanations. So he disappeared into the kitchen to do the only thing he was even remotely good at, making more hot cocoa.

When he returned, Hazel had fallen silent. She seemed to be processing the information-overload and calculating the reality of it all. So as to not disturb her, Atticus simply set her cocoa mug on the coffee-table in front of her. Then he handed one to Bentley.

"It isn't poison, is it?" She eyed him.

As he sat down beside her, Atticus lifted the edge of her clothing. Blood was starting to fade through the white bandage wrapped around the lower half of her body. Even though she was a demon, and a very powerful one at that, it would still take some time for Bentley to completely recover from the night's incident. It had been an angelic blade that had stabbed her, after all. In any other situation, the person being stabbed would be killed instantly just due to the divine energy in the blade itself. But not her. Not this time, anyway.

By this point, Atticus had determined that she was immune to death in this resurrected state. Which was certainly an advantage in some cases, but it may also end up being a curse. There were fates much worse than death. He knew better than anyone.

"Poisoning you would do nothing at this point," He said, ignoring her constant glare.

The whole time this was happening, Hazel was just staring at nothing in particular with a vacant expression. It was only now that she seemed to regain some of her previous intelligence.

"So... This is... God and Heaven and Hell and..." She still couldn't quite grasp it.

"You scared?" Bentley gave a little fanged smile.

This was probably a little too much to process all at once. So as to ease things up a little, Atticus decided to speak.

"Hazel, have you ever heard the name 'Isaiah Quinn' before?"

Hazel shook her head.

"That's alright, he died over a hundred years ago,"

"Wait, who is he?"

"It's less of a question of who he is, but rather of who you are,"

It had been his intention to gently nudge the conversation into the subject of Hazel's true heritage. However, as was typical of the demon beside him, Bentley had much different plans for how to break the news.

"He's your great-great-great-great grandpappy. The child of a mortal woman and an angel from Heaven," Bentley said lazily.

"What??"

"Biologically, yes, you are a direct descendant of his." Said Atticus, "You're the only descendent of his.

"And that means you need to help me in my magical mission. So get your shoes on and we'll head out really quick so-"

"Bentley,"

Hazel squished her face into her hands, evidently quite overwhelmed.

"I am so lost. One of you talk to me like I'm a baby," She said, "God is real? Are you guys on drugs?"

Appealing to the mortal's request, Bentley slowed her voice down to a very exaggerated and deliberate version of her usual tone.

Palms together, she gestured to the angel beside her as though in a half-prayer, "This is Atticus. He's an angel from Heaven. He sucks." Then she indicated herself, "I'm Bentley. I'm a demon from Hell. I'm awesome."

This was unbearable. Atticus buried his face in his palm. But Bentley just continued, aiming her fingertips at Hazel.

"This is Hazel," She told Hazel, "She is a human from Earth. But she has angelic ancestry,"

"No, there's no way." Hazel shook her head, "That's impossible,"

"Do you have proof?"

"Atti... Atti's not an angel. I'm not part angel. There's no such thing as angels,"

Atticus raised an eyebrow.

"Why can't there be?" Asked Bentley,

"I don't know, but there's no way Atti's an angel from the Bible. That's just stupid,"

"Hey, don't call angels stupid! Call them murderous bastards who enjoy paralyzing and k********g their old rivals without telling them the reason,"

For a moment, Atticus was ready to retort, but ended up biting back his words at the last second.

"If angels are real, where the hell have they been? Aren't they supposed to look after the world? Where were the angels during the World Wars?" Hazel said, her face growing red.

"Instigating the violence--" Bentley started.

"Or when Owen broke his leg last year? Or when my asshole of a mom tried to make me sleep in my car last night? Where were the angels then?"

"Well one of them made you hot cocoa and offered to let you stay in his house for as long as you needed,"

This was the first time Bentley had spoken seriously since she had arrived. It actually startled Atticus a little, hearing her voice so low. It had been a while since he'd seen the veil of her chaotic and careless personality lifted like this, showing the real Bentley underneath. And for her to switch like this just to defend him... it also made Atticus feel a little uneasy.

Hazel, on the other hand, had no idea who Bentley was at all. Although she sensed the slight change in the air, she wasn't as taken aback by it.

"Atti's not-- He's NOT an angel. He's just a person. A good person. It's not my fault good people are rare,"

"Oh honey, the one beside me is a lot of things but he is neither good, nor a person-"

Aaaand annoying Bentley was back.

"Bentley, let me handle this one." Atticus turned to Hazel. "Hazel, I know this is a lot to process. So I'm just going to ask you one question and if you know the answer, you can think of me however you want, human or not."

"Okay, what's the question?" Hazel was ready for any challenge...

"What's my surname?"

...except this one.

All was quiet.

"Come on," Bentley taunted, "You should know it. If you're such good friends as you say,"

Something finally seemed to click in Hazel's mind. She buried her face in her hands again and shook her head, unable to meet the two sets of eyes watching her. The angel and the demon had won, but there was no victory in a situation like this.

Atticus was the one to break the suffocating silence.

"I know you were adopted, but do you have anything left from your biological family? Any items, anything I can use to help convince you of the truth?"

"Hell if I know." Hazel's head flipped back up, "What do you want me to give you? An angel feather? Some holy water? If I owned anything supernatural I think I would have noticed by now."

"Please Hazel--"

Bentley tilted her head.

"Either you let us convince you of the shocking truths reality holds, or I will forcefully pour the secrets of the universe through your ears and into your brain whether you ask for them or not," She said.

Silence again.

"I have a locket from my birth-father," Hazel said suddenly, "It's round. With some carvings and Latin words on them. But I've opened it before, it's nothing special. Just an old antique."

"Is it alright if we see it?"

"Yeah. Um, my adopted dad is home. I can give him a call if--"

Atticus held up his hand. A long, golden chain was woven through his fingers, and at the end of it was a large, round, brass locket. It had appeared out of nowhere.

"Is this the one?"

Actually, he had just sent a summoning spell to search Hazel's house for the thing she had just described. The magic itself wasn't anything very complicated. There was even a chance that the spell would grab the wrong thing if more than one item in its selected search-area fit the description. So it took Atticus a moment to realize why Hazel was so surprised when he held it up for her to see.

"How did you--" Hazel was dumbstruck.

"Lemme see." Bentley snatched the locket and flipped it over a couple times.

Then she raised it to her nose and took a sniff.

"What are you doing?"

Ignoring Hazel, Bentley and Atticus exchanged glances. More often than not, certain forms of supernatural energy would give off specific scents. For example, the different powers of angels had lighter scents similar to lilac, fresh-baked bread, or in the case of Atticus' magic, vanilla. And the power of demons had stronger scents, the most common being the smell of smoke, but heavy spices were also common among the more powerful individuals. Take cinnamon, for example. This was the reason Bentley had sniffed the locket, to see if she could detect traces of angelic energy.

But judging from Bentley's expression, there was no clear answer. So Atticus took her hand and held the locket under his own nose. There was no trace of lilac or bread, but there was something. It was stronger, but not demonic. Closer to the magic of humans, but not completely. Human magic smelled of incense and tea. This thing smelled similar, only it was a little more--

"Evil," Said Bentley.

"I'm not sure," Atticus responded, "Something's off about it, though,"

"What kind of weirdass prank is this? What are you two doing?"

"May I open it," The angel asked Hazel,

"Sure?"

There was nothing remarkable about the inside of the locket. There was only a photograph of two people, a man and a woman in their early-twenties. Judging by the people's clothes and the coloring of the picture, the photograph was much newer than its current place of residence.

"Are these you parents?" Atticus asked,

"That's what I've been told. It's not like I've met them,"

"High-five for the no-parents club!" Bentley held up her palm.

Hazel did not give her a high-five. Just a malevolent glare.

"I don't trust this thing," Atticus told Bentley, "Even if it's unrelated to Hazel's ancestry, I suggest we take it to Frances and see what they say,"

"Wait, who's Frances?"

They both ignored her, "That might be ideal. I don't like the smell. It puts me off."

Nodding, Atticus slipped the locket into his pocket.

"Hey, wait, what are we doing?" Hazel asked,

She had been left behind completely, unable to follow the way Atticus and Bentley spoke to each other. Normally, her friend was deliberate and gentle with his speech, making sure he wasted no words for any reason and always paying attention to whoever else was speaking to him. But since this other person had appeared, it was like the rest of the world had disappeared. Nothing seemed to matter except the task at hand.

He was getting more and more annoying by the minute.

...