Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Angels didn’t have panic attacks. Why was he having one?
Still, he followed the soothing sound of Gabriel’s voice and aligned his breathing with the boy’s prompts. The warm hands on his face were safety, and while he still struggled to get enough air and felt increasingly faint, nothing in this world could have taken his attention away from Gabriel.
And eventually, his throat relaxed.
“That’s it.” Gabriel smiled at him, and it was as if the heavens had opened in the middle of the night, allowing tomorrow’s sunshine to peek through. “You’re doing great.” He stroked Abaddon’s shoulder, sinking to his haunches. “Too much cake?” he joked in an attempt to soothe Abaddon when they both knew something was off about his reaction.
Abaddon gave a weak laugh and pushed his face against the boy’s shoulder, smelling the vanilla clinging to his clothes like a badge of being the main baker at the orphanage. The world was still spinning, but the sweet-scented boy was the one person who could help, so he made the choice to stay where he was.
“Maybe,” he said despite not having given his dessert a taste prior to their hasty departure.
“I think it’s time to go home.” Gabriel said and gave Abaddon a little kiss on the ear.
“No… We still have the movie…”
Gabriel snorted. “Okay, okay, are you sure you can go?”
Abaddon met his eyes and nodded, increasingly at ease with breathing. “I am not missing this movie. And neither are you.”
This was why God had chosen for Abaddon to meet Gabriel. He knew this human vessel couldn’t take the weight of His task on its own. God was right, and Abaddon was so glad for the support he wouldn’t have known to seek out on his own.
8
ABADDON
Bridget looked into the rearview mirror as she stopped her car right by the large sign marking the start of the single-file road leading to St. John’s. She and her two friends had been at the same screening as Abaddon and Gabriel, and due to a catastrophic loss of popcorn and many apologies, the five of them had ended up chatting. And once the movie had come to an end, the young women offered to give them a lift.
“Are you sure you don’t want us to take you all the way there? I hear the grounds are awfully big,” Saundra, one of the other girls asked, touching Abaddon’s hip. It was tight in the back seat so she could pass it as accidental, but it most definitely wasn’t.
Abaddon smiled at her. “That would be even more generous, but we were technically meant to stay in tonight, and I’d rather be very discreet.”
“Can they do that? Just tell you to stay in?” Bridget asked with a frown and when it became clear Gabriel wasn’t ready to join the conversation, Abaddon reached past him and opened the door of the raspberry-scented cab.
“Well, we are technically on call. It’s just that nothing ever happens. You know how it is with work,” he said, already pushing his way out after the boy.
“But thank you,” Gabriel mumbled, his face obscured by damp hair.
He was clearly not used to interacting with strangers—the result of being sheltered from the broad society under false pretenses and forced to believe he was the problem. But he could learn, and Abaddon would be there for him, helping in social situations when needed.
Gabriel slid his fingers into Abaddon’s hand as soon as the girls drove off. It was as if he’d been waiting for it all along, and the sweetness of the gesture brought a smile to Abaddon’s face.
“I just hope Father John didn’t notice I was gone,” Gabriel mused.
“The orphanage sits on a thousand acres of land. You could tell him you’ve gone for a walk to clear your head,” Abaddon said as they marched through the tunnel of dense trees with just the hard asphalt to guide them in the dark.
The air smelled of damp leaves and soil, but the skies weren’t done watering the woods yet, and soon enough Abaddon heard the familiar patter of droplets hitting the trees.
“I don’t think he’d believe I went out in the middle of the night for pleasure. The forest—” He turned to look at Abaddon as the rain gained intensity and lashed their heads with its cold touch. His big dark eyes glistened in the moonlight. “Is this where you were born? You said you came out of the ground.”
Abaddon hummed, because the cloudy night was so dark the boy might not see him nod. “Yes. I crawled out of the dirt.”
“Do you remember where? Can we go see that place?”
“I think so,” Abaddon said and squeezed Gabriel’s hand as the tall concrete wall surrounding the orphanage grounds came into view. In the dark, only the bright square of the guard’s booth window marked the presence of a barrier in their way.