Read Online Archangel Rafe (A Novel of The Seven Book 1) by Lisa Hughey - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lisa Hughey
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licked high into the night. He deposited Angelina out of reach of the blaze that thundered nearby.
“Stay here.” Before she could argue, he strode into the fire. Rafe had been summoned by Stanislaus, an elder healer in his mid-fifties. Uri had to be here somewhere. With a blaze of this magnitude, he would be right alongside his Angels attempting to wrestle control of the beast.
The sky was layered with a gray, somber ash. Heat licked at his skin. Rafe erected a molecule shield between his body and the flames automatically as he searched for Stanislaus. The signal Stas had used to summon him just a few moments ago grew weaker.
“Stas.” Rafe yelled into the inferno, and catalogued details as he searched. The fire was consuming some sort of farm. Long rows of hen houses burned out of control, the wood from the old structures a conflagration.
Burnt feathers and chicken meat sent putrid smoke into the air, along with the more acrid scent of scorched human flesh and hair. He tromped around the farm, and found a large pile of incinerated chicken carcasses. Ignoring the animals, he continued to search for humans. Outside the main access doors were two human casualties, their bodies burned beyond any recognition. Their clothes melted to their skin and bits of ash swirled around them.
Rafe strode through the increasing heat, and narrowed in on Stas’s beacon. Suddenly, he could see him, at the end of a row of burning buildings, near the edge of the flames where Rafe had deposited Angelina. Stas hadn’t been there before, so he must have come around the other side.
Stas hobbled away from the flames, hampered by the fireman he carried. He dropped to his knees as the burden in his arms weighted him down. A huge fireball lit the sky as Rafe ran toward the pair. His only thought was to save them, his only hope that their injuries would not be too great to mend.
Rafe skidded to a halt by the two men. He glanced back to ensure Angelina was safe, and saw her watching, shading her eyes with her hand. Stas gently laid one of Uri’s Angels, a firefighter, on the heated ground, and curled over the man as if he could protect him with his own body. Stas’s hand was clenched around a stick. Rafe knelt beside them and held his hands over the body of the fallen firefighter. He wanted to ask what happened but business had to come first. Stas knew he couldn’t save the Angel. Only Rafe, the Archangel of Healing, could heal Angels. Stas should have concentrated on the humans here.
“Status.”
“They’re all dead,” Stas said flatly, his muscles tense.
“Where?”
“On the other side of the farm, you will find them laid out in rows, like the rows of the hen houses.”
“You couldn’t save any?”
“Only one alive when I got here.” Stas spat on the ground, still hunched over, fists bunched. He shifted his chin toward the firefighter. “Can you save Lev?”
The life energy of the Angel faded quickly but not quietly. His body strained against some invisible force, and agony distorted his face and contorted his body. His death would not be easy. These were the ones Rafe hated. The Angels who tried to save the humans from their own greed and stupidity. The waste of a pure life in pursuit of preserving a tainted one always frosted him.
Only one alive. “Where’s the one who’s alive?”
“Gone.” Stas’s breath wheezed in and out.
“Gone where?”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head violently. “Don’t care.”
Rafe sat back on his heels. Stanislaus was a great big bear of a man, one with an easy smile and a desire to heal that used to burst from every pore of his body. His enthusiasm had never waned before, but now he sounded old and broken.
Rafe would have to deal with him after he took care of Lev.
The man’s soul would leave his body soon and Rafe was helpless to stop it. He’d been too late. He could only ease Lev’s suffering. He placed his hand upon Lev’s heart nadis, and slowed the breath and
“Stay here.” Before she could argue, he strode into the fire. Rafe had been summoned by Stanislaus, an elder healer in his mid-fifties. Uri had to be here somewhere. With a blaze of this magnitude, he would be right alongside his Angels attempting to wrestle control of the beast.
The sky was layered with a gray, somber ash. Heat licked at his skin. Rafe erected a molecule shield between his body and the flames automatically as he searched for Stanislaus. The signal Stas had used to summon him just a few moments ago grew weaker.
“Stas.” Rafe yelled into the inferno, and catalogued details as he searched. The fire was consuming some sort of farm. Long rows of hen houses burned out of control, the wood from the old structures a conflagration.
Burnt feathers and chicken meat sent putrid smoke into the air, along with the more acrid scent of scorched human flesh and hair. He tromped around the farm, and found a large pile of incinerated chicken carcasses. Ignoring the animals, he continued to search for humans. Outside the main access doors were two human casualties, their bodies burned beyond any recognition. Their clothes melted to their skin and bits of ash swirled around them.
Rafe strode through the increasing heat, and narrowed in on Stas’s beacon. Suddenly, he could see him, at the end of a row of burning buildings, near the edge of the flames where Rafe had deposited Angelina. Stas hadn’t been there before, so he must have come around the other side.
Stas hobbled away from the flames, hampered by the fireman he carried. He dropped to his knees as the burden in his arms weighted him down. A huge fireball lit the sky as Rafe ran toward the pair. His only thought was to save them, his only hope that their injuries would not be too great to mend.
Rafe skidded to a halt by the two men. He glanced back to ensure Angelina was safe, and saw her watching, shading her eyes with her hand. Stas gently laid one of Uri’s Angels, a firefighter, on the heated ground, and curled over the man as if he could protect him with his own body. Stas’s hand was clenched around a stick. Rafe knelt beside them and held his hands over the body of the fallen firefighter. He wanted to ask what happened but business had to come first. Stas knew he couldn’t save the Angel. Only Rafe, the Archangel of Healing, could heal Angels. Stas should have concentrated on the humans here.
“Status.”
“They’re all dead,” Stas said flatly, his muscles tense.
“Where?”
“On the other side of the farm, you will find them laid out in rows, like the rows of the hen houses.”
“You couldn’t save any?”
“Only one alive when I got here.” Stas spat on the ground, still hunched over, fists bunched. He shifted his chin toward the firefighter. “Can you save Lev?”
The life energy of the Angel faded quickly but not quietly. His body strained against some invisible force, and agony distorted his face and contorted his body. His death would not be easy. These were the ones Rafe hated. The Angels who tried to save the humans from their own greed and stupidity. The waste of a pure life in pursuit of preserving a tainted one always frosted him.
Only one alive. “Where’s the one who’s alive?”
“Gone.” Stas’s breath wheezed in and out.
“Gone where?”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head violently. “Don’t care.”
Rafe sat back on his heels. Stanislaus was a great big bear of a man, one with an easy smile and a desire to heal that used to burst from every pore of his body. His enthusiasm had never waned before, but now he sounded old and broken.
Rafe would have to deal with him after he took care of Lev.
The man’s soul would leave his body soon and Rafe was helpless to stop it. He’d been too late. He could only ease Lev’s suffering. He placed his hand upon Lev’s heart nadis, and slowed the breath and
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