“How’s my little Angelina feeling today?” he asked her.
She released him from her pathetic grip and stared up at him, eyes wide. “The angels came to me, Uncle,” she said.
“They did?” Stearns responded earnestly. “How exciting.”
“And they told me that it would soon be time for me to tell God’s message to the world.”
He smiled at her as best he could, the muscles in his face uncomfortable with the expression. “How marvelous that will be.”
“Very much so,” she agreed, grabbing a nearby doll and clutching it to her chest.
“And when it is time, who will be there to help you deliver this important message?” he asked her slyly.
“You will, Uncle,” she said adoringly.
He couldn’t help but be impressed with her. Even though he knew the truth, he could still not find a single flaw in her design.
The Watchers had far surpassed anything he could have created on his own.
“Yes,” he told her. “Yes, I will.”
Angelina crawled out from beneath her heavy covers and maneuvered herself into his lap.
“Tell me again how you will help,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck. “Just in case I might have forgot.”
He chuckled, feeling a slight revulsion from the contact, but he allowed it to pass so that the charade could go on.
“Let’s see,” he said. “I hope that I haven’t forgotten.”
The little girl giggled, laying her head upon his shoulder. “You’re just being silly, Uncle. You would never forget anything so important.”
“You know me too well, my dear. Let’s see…” He paused for effect before continuing. “When the angels come to you and tell you that it is time for all the worthy to hear God’s special message, I will come for you.”
“In a big car-right, Uncle?”
“Exactly,” he said with a nod. “I will send my special driver to pick you up and bring you to my building.”
“The one that goes way, way up into the sky,” she said, lifting one of her arms above her head.
“Almost to the clouds,” he told her. “High enough so you can hear the message that you will share coming all the way down from Heaven.”
“And you’ll help me share that message,” little Angelina said, placing a tiny hand lovingly upon his cheek.
“Yes, I will,” he told her. “Inside my building there is a special place…a studio that has been set up just for you.”
She smiled widely, her eyes twinkling, even though she had heard this information countless times before.
“A special place for you, the angels, and your message from God.”
Stearns felt the palms of his hands grow itchy as the mouths wanted to manifest. He held them at bay, exerting his will on them.
“And when you receive His special message, I will be there with my television cameras, broadcasting to all who wish to hear it.”
“How many do you think will be listening?” the little girl asked.
Stearns smiled not at the question, but at the answer.
Far more than the number killed in Hiroshima in 1945, he thought, the mouths on his hands eagerly appearing before he forced them away again.
“Millions,” he said, leaning in close to whisper in the child’s ear.
“And I will touch each and every one of them with my message,” Angelina said.
“You most assuredly will,” Stearns agreed. “Each and every one; they will never be the same after they hear you.”
She placed her head upon his shoulder again, snuggling her face into the crook of his neck. “Why me, Uncle?” she asked. “Why did God choose me over so many others?”
“It’s quite simple, really,” Stearns said. “You are very special, and God would select only a very special someone to deliver His message.”
“But I don’t feel special.” Angelina lifted her head to gaze into his eyes.
“If you only knew how special you really are,” he told her, for the first time being completely honest with the child.
“You’re special, too,” she said then, hugging him tightly in a fragile grip.
Stearns was finished here, and reached up to peel the girl away.
“Uncle needs to go now,” he told her as he laid her back down on the bed. “There is still much to do in preparation for the big day.”
She crawled beneath the covers, and he pulled them up to her chin.
“Rest now, my special girl.” He forced himself to lean forward and kiss the child’s damp forehead.
“What do you think it will be?” Angelina asked.
“What will what be?”
“The message,” she whispered. “What do you think God’s message will be?”
For a brief moment he heard a million voices raised in a scream of terror as their lives were stolen away.
“I have no idea,” he said, opening the door. “But I’m sure it will be something wonderful,” he added as he closed it behind him.
Stearns turned from the room to view the child’s immediate family standing there in the hallway, waiting for him.
“Was she happy to see you?” the child’s mother asked, wiping her hands on her apron. Her husband smiled, uneasy in Stearns’ presence, which he had every right to be.
Stearns was not used to being questioned by beings such as this; they were normally created only to carry out orders, but there was a charade to maintain.
A story to be played out.
Again, the Watchers had outdone themselves.
“As happy as I was to see her,” Stearns told the golem family. It all felt like a game to him, and he did not have the time or the patience for games. But if this plan, conceived in part by the fallen Grigori, was to succeed, he had to partake of this fiction.
The parents of little Angelina Hayward must fully believe in their humanity, just as completely as the little girl must believe that she was chosen by God.
If the life forces of millions were to be his.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
It was the closest thing the fallen Guardian angel had to dreaming.
Remembering.
Francis remembered how scared he had been…how weak he had felt in the presence of God.
Where was the big, bad warrior then? he thought. Where was the angel that had chosen to fight on the side of Lucifer, just to help the Son of the Morning make his point to the Creator?
He had been but an insignificant bug kneeling before a force that had shaped the universe from nothing, and even though he had known it would help him naught, he had begged for the Almighty’s forgiveness, honestly believing he had learned the error of his ways.
And he’d waited for what seemed like an eternity for his punishment to come, but it never happened.
Instead, the Lord had given him a penance to perform, and that was where he had learned the art of dealing death.
Killing in the name of Heaven.
