“Angels?” The word felt strange on my tongue. “You mean like in the scriptures?”
“Like that, yes, though perhaps not quite as your priests imagine them.” Warmth touched me again, reassuring. “You would be immortal, powerful beyond mortal understanding. But you would also be bound to service, to protecting those in need wherever they might be found.”
I thought of the children in the road, of Mary Fitzgerald’s terrified face. Of all the other innocents in the world who faced dangers they could not overcome alone.
“Would I…? Would I remember this life? Remember who I was?”
“Every moment of it. Your memories, your experiences, your capacity for love—all of that would remain. Indeed, those very qualities would make you effective in suchservice.”
“And if I chose this path, would it be forever?”
El was quiet for a long moment, and when they spoke again, there was something almost…knowing in their voice. “Every soul’s journey has both a beginning and an end, Eamon. Some endings become new beginnings when the heart learns its truest purpose.”
I frowned, trying to parse the meaning behind the words. “I don’t understand.”
“You need not, just now. Understanding will come in its own time, when your heart is ready to receive it.” El moved closer again, and I felt their infinite patience. “What matters now is this: will you choose to serve? Will you become my guardian, my protector of the innocent?”
I thought of paradise, of eternal rest and the promise of seeing my dear mother again. Then I thought of children like Mary Fitzgerald, facing dangers they could not overcome alone.
The choice, when it came to it, was no choice at all.
“Aye,” I said, my voice steady despite the magnitude of what I was accepting. “I’ll serve. I’ll protect them.”
El’s joy washed over me like sunlight after a storm. “Then welcome, Guardian Eamon O’Rourke. Welcome to your new existence.”
The pain that followed was unlike anything I’d experienced in life or death—a searing, transformative agony that felt like being unmade and rebuilt at the most fundamental level. My mortal form dissolved and reformed, my human limitations stripped away and replaced by something vast and powerful.
When it finally ended, I stood changed. Immortal. The hunger and cold and bone-deep weariness that had defined my mortal existence were gone, replaced by strength beyond human comprehension.
And from my shoulders unfurled wings—great, magnificent things of shadow and silver light, beautiful and terrible in equal measure. They spread wide, spanning impossible distances, and I felt the weight of my new purpose settle into my bones.
I was no longer Eamon O’Rourke, poor Irish farmer. I was Guardian Eamon, protector of the innocent, servant of El’s will.
The last thing I saw before the vision faded was El’s presence, still shifting and beautiful, watching me with pride and something that might have been anticipation.
“Go well, my guardian,” they said. “Your true purpose awaits you, though you may not recognize it when it comes. Trust your heart, Eamon. It will not lead you astray.”
Then I was soaring through infinite space, my new wings carrying me toward my first assignment, my first charge to protect.
TWENTY-NINE
CHARLES
Gabriel stood before us like something out of a Renaissance painting, all sharp angles and impossible beauty. Even in the aftermath of violence, with the cabin destroyed behind us and the scent of gunpowder still lingering in the air, he looked perfectly composed. Untouchable.
When he smiled at Eamon, there was something almost paternal in the expression.
“Hello, Eamon,” Gabriel said calmly. “I think it’s time we had a talk. I trust the assignment went well?”
“Carlo’s in custody,” Eamon replied, standing a little straighter. “Charles is safe.”
“Yes, I’m aware. The local law enforcement was quite efficient.” Gabriel’s golden eyes shifted to me, and I felt like I was being assessed by something vast and ancient. “Mr. Garrity, I apologize for the dramatic circumstances of our meeting.”
I found my voice, though it came out slightly strangled. “Call me Charles. Are you really…?”
“An archangel? Yes. Eamon’s supervisor, among otherduties.” Gabriel’s attention returned to Eamon. “Though I suspect that particular professional relationship is about to change.”
Something in his tone made my stomach clench with anxiety. “What do you mean?”
