But then the minion left the room and brought one of the new recruits in. The newbie was a large guy, covered in tattoos. Not the sort you'd find in church unless that church was in a prison. But he stared at Silas with deep reverence. He was a believer. It always surprised me when I saw that zeal in someone's face. I had probably seen more “miracles” than this guy had, and yet, I was still on the fence. Maybe because that look of faith and devotion changed after the induction ceremony. I could never put my finger on it—what the faith became. But now I knew. It became a certainty. Faith is believing without proof. After someone brings you back to life, you don't need faith. You know.
“Come here, Oliver,” Silas said.
That was another thing about Silas. He knew everyone's name without being told. Again, it could have been a trick, but I was leaning toward belief. Nothing as zealous as Oliver, but it was still belief. And at that moment, I wasn't sure if I wanted to believe.
Oliver went to stand before Silas.
Silas motioned at the basin. “Kneel, soldier.”
Oliver knelt before the basin and pulled off his T-shirt. Nice body. Very muscular. And, no surprise, his chest was covered in tattoos. Scary ones. Skulls and monsters. It felt appropriate, but I couldn't say why.
Jake stepped up behind him, and dread filled me.
“Try not to struggle,” Silas said.
That made it worse.
Even Oliver frowned at Silas. But the frown was all he had time for. Seconds after Silas spoke, Jake shoved Oliver's head into the water. I jerked back even though I'd been prepared for it. You tell yourself you can handle something like that, but you really don't know until you're in the moment. I thought I could deal with death. I'd been close to it for so long. Holding its hand. But this was different. It was violent. Unnatural. Dare I say evil?
Jake was a big guy, but not as big as Oliver. When Oliver started to thrash, I thought he'd throw Jake off. But Jake didn't budge. He held Oliver still, his grip so firm that barely any water splashed out of the tub. Thunderous sounds echoed through the room, the result of Oliver bashing his fists against the metal. It freaked the fuck out of me, but Jake was utterly cool. Absolutely confident in what he did. I could only conclude that drowning men was an everyday thing for Jake. Jake, who had never hurt anyone in all his life. Then he lifted his stare and met mine.
Michael. That's who was murdering Oliver. Not Jake. And it was Michael's strength holding the man under.
I shivered as Michael returned his attention to Oliver. With all the questions in my mind, there was one thing I was certain of—something possessed Jake. There was no doubt in my mind that something other than Jake was inside his body. Whether it was an angel or something else was the question. I mean, how did I know these were the good guys? Silas had healed Jake, but he did it for a price. An enormous price. He didn't even give Jake the chance to see his family before he left Washington. And yes, I blamed that on Silas. But even if that hadn't been Silas's doing,thiswas. And no matter how you spun it, I was witnessing a murder.
What was that saying about the Devil? His greatest lie was making people believe he was good. No, that wasn't it. It was; his greatest trick is in making people believe he doesn't exist. Well, Silas certainly wants people to know he exists. Him and the Devil, whoever that may be. Still, wouldn't it be just like the Devil to impersonate God? And if Silas was the Devil, then that would make Michael a demon. Holy. Shit.
When Oliver went still, so did I. This wasn't right. I knew it in my bones. Was it a demon in Jake? Oh, fuck. But then I started thinking about the Bible again. Adam and Eve getting cast out of Eden. The Flood. The firstborn of Egypt. People don't realize that the Bible is full of horror stories. Worse than fairy tales. And God played the lead role in most of them.
Drowning a few people and bringing them back to life was nothing compared to all that biblical stuff. And Jesus wasn't the only resurrection in the Bible. There was Lazarus too. And I'm pretty sure Lazarus wasn't fresh. Oliver should be easier to revive, right? Hell, people came back from drowning all the time. This could simply be a case of near-drowning and resuscitation.
Except that when Jake hauled Oliver out of the tub, he didn't perform CPR. Neither did Silas. The self-proclaimed god went to Oliver's still body and laid a hand on his chest. Not to compress it. He barely touched Oliver, just established skin-to-skin contact. And then came that light, the same light I'd seen Silas play with—God's light. It seeped from Silas's hand and into Oliver's chest.
And Oliver came gasping back to life.
The sudden movement compelled me to act as well. I leapt backward, over the chair, and fell in a heap. No one came to help me. Most of them were focused on Oliver, who was fallingto his knees before Silas. The hysterical woman crawling toward the wall wasn't a concern for anyone. They had a resurrection to celebrate.
The wall hit my back. I pressed up against it and watched Silas greet his new soldier with the good news that he was now stronger and would heal faster—fit to battle demons. Then he escorted Oliver out.
Another man came in.
I stayed where I was, half hidden behind the overturned chair, and watched for hours as Michael drowned and resurrected several people. Every initiation was the same. It wasn't resuscitation, although they coughed up whatever water had filled their lungs. No, it was resurrection. They died. All of them died. And then Silas brought them back.
Jake had it down to a science. He got them before the basin, held them under, then hauled them out. No, not Jake. Michael. It didn't affect him. Not in the least. These people meant nothing to him. Death meant nothing. I suppose if God created you to be an incorporeal entity that obeyed his every order, humans and their bodies would be insignificant. He only cared as far as God's orders were concerned.
But then I saw him sneer at Silas.
What's this? Michael doesn't like God? Is he bound to Silas against his will? But aren't angels given the choice to serve God? That's what supposedly turned half of them into demons, right? So, what was an angel doing looking at God like that?
Wait. No. Again, I couldn't think straight and religion had never been an interest of mine. Not any of them. But my first years with the nuns, before I went into foster care, had been fullof religion. I sometimes wondered if that was what put me off it. But that's neither here nor there. The current question was about angels and freedom. Thinking it over, I recalled something about humans getting free will, but not angels. Lucifer rebelled against this and got punished.
I could be wrong. As I said, religion isn't my strong suit. But either way, if they had free will or not, seeing a fellow angel turned into a demon would make them think twice about choosing the other side. The thing is—both sides looked pretty fucked up from where I was standing.
Unless I was right about Silas being the Devil.
Yup, I was back at the start, not knowing what to believe. But things were taking shape—the nebulous getting solid. I had facts. Startling facts that seemed impossible, but facts nonetheless. Fact number one: Jake was possessed. Fact number two: the entity inside Jake strengthened his body. Fact number three: Silas could perform supernatural acts, including resurrection.
I was dealing with people who functioned outside the laws of physics and the natural world. Did labels really matter? Whether Silas was God, Satan, or fucking Pinocchio, the facts told me he could do things most humans couldn't. What he did with his power was what mattered. So far, it didn't look good for him. But I didn't know what the other side was up to. Maybe the hellhounds were even worse. Or maybe they weren't hellhounds at all. I couldn't decide who was good, evil, or the lesser evil until I had met a hellhound.
