The Genesis of Seven Read online

  Then, I saw them. Two more guys dressed in black, right in front of me. I was about to spin around and head in the other direction when the other four appeared from the subway.

  I was done. I was tired.

  Illogically, I ran straight ahead, right at the two guys. I figured two was better than four, and these men in particular had never seen me before. But I stuck out like a sore thumb—hooded, running, and carrying more baggage than any normal person. The second I passed by, they caught on and turned to follow.

  At least I’m getting close.

  At least I’m headed in the right direction.

  At least let me make it there alive.

  This mantra helped more than I knew. As I ran, I looked up at the street signs and saw I was crossing onto Central Park West, the exact street I needed. There was no time to search for building numbers, so I kept on running and tried to scan the entrances as I passed.

  Footsteps behind me grew louder as six pairs of feet pounded the pavement. The thump of my Converse hitting the sidewalk mixed into the fray, adding an irregular beat since I was still galloping awkwardly with the weight of the bag.

  At the sight of a huge fancy apartment complex up ahead, I knew the building number would be clearly displayed on the entrance. As I approached, I looked up and read the metal letters spelling out the number thirty-four. Glancing down at the paper clutched in my sweaty hand, I realized this huge fancy apartment complex was where I had to be. I sent up a prayer for my miraculous salvation and raced up the steps, making straight for the elevator. With a barrage of people chasing after me—now the footmen and front desk security guards since the hooded subway chasers were nowhere in sight—I squeezed in between high-class residents just as the elevator doors closed.

  They all stared and tried to step away like I was a hoodlum or a thief. I glanced down at my appearance and figured their assumptions were valid thanks to the rip in my jeans, my sneakers covered in dirt, and my hoodie drenched with sweat. Ignoring them, I opened my fist and looked closer at Sister Helen’s crumpled piece of paper. There was only the building address, no apartment number.

  Great. I’d come this far, and now I had no clue which door to knock on. I ripped the piece of paper in half and shoved it in my pocket, cursing myself and the situation. An elderly couple backed into the corner at my outburst, and when the door opened, everyone exited quickly.

  If I didn’t do something soon, these doors would close, and I’d be arriving back downstairs to a mob of people who wanted my head. I searched the floor numbers, hoping for some sign that might tell me which one to press, but there was nothing.

  I was about to lose all hope when the “P” button consumed my gaze. Sheer gut instinct moved me to press it, and I prayed it would work out.

  When I arrived, the elevator chimed, and the doors opened. “Penthouse,” the mechanized voice announced as I stepped off into the hall. A door in front of me was the only thing in sight other than some decorative plants. Swallowing hard, I walked up to it and knocked. I stood there wishing someone would answer.

  After a pause, a unique-looking man opened the door. He was tall, with medium-length black hair styled away from his face. He wore a suit without the jacket but complete with tie and vest. His eyes captured mine, and I noticed their unusual amber color.

  “Can I help you?” he asked.

  “Are you Michael?” I answered, remembering the name Sister Helen had given.

  “No.” The hint of a smile graced his face. “I’m Gabriel.”

  2

  Jordan

  New York City, Present Day

  “Who are you?” Gabriel asked.

  “My name is Jordan Conway. May I come in?”

  He looked at my large duffel bag, backpack, and generally disastrous state and said, “Sure,” as he opened the door wide.

  I brushed past him and walked into the apartment, grateful for the sanctuary. He closed the door and locked it, then turned to face me where I stood in the middle of his living room, still clutching my bag.

  Unsure of what to say, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Do you play?” I pointed to the violin sitting in the corner.

  “Yes, it’s my profession.”

  “Oh, so you’re in an orchestra?”

  “Not exactly. I started out that way, but I’m a soloist now.”

  “You must be good then.”

  He ignored the comment. “Why don’t you make yourself comfortable? Can I get you something to eat? You look like you could use some food,” he offered, noticing my raggedness.

  I placed my duffel on the carpet. I knew I couldn’t just come out with the reason I was there, so I said, “I guess I could eat.”

  “Great. Follow me.” Gabriel headed into the kitchen.

  The place didn’t feel like a penthouse. Its living room, kitchen, and dining room where all visible as part of the open floor plan. In the kitchen, I noticed there were two hallways—one to the right, one to left—branching off from the main living space. The extra square footage possibly made it a penthouse, but the awesome view through the kitchen window and the oversized balcony definitely contributed to the title.

  While Gabriel explored the contents of his cabinets, I removed the backpack and set it down on one of the stools lined up along the island.

  “Do you have anything to make?” I asked as he scrambled around.

  “Not much. I could make you some eggs?” he offered, peering into the fridge.

  “That works.”

  “Would you like some toast with that too?” He held up a loaf of bread from the pantry.

  “Sure.”

  Gabriel went about preparing the food, taking a frying pan out from the cabinet and cracking the eggs into it. He put two slices of bread in the toaster and returned to the eggs.

  “How did you get up here?” he asked.

  “I jumped in an elevator at the last second,” I explained. “The other residents’ swipe access must have still registered when they left because I had no problem coming up.”

  “I see.” He concentrated on the cooking, and a beat of silence ensued.

  I couldn’t wait any longer. “So…Gabriel, was it?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he replied, turning to look at me.

  “What exactly is going on here?”

  “I don’t know. You tell me.”

  “Sister Helen sent me. She gave me a piece of paper with your address on it and said I would be safe here…that I was their last hope. These guys chased me the whole time. I thought it was because I bumped into them on the subway earlier, but now I get the feeling that’s not the reason.”

  Gabriel didn’t seem to understand. Then, the toast popped up, and his attention was back on the food as he slid the pieces of bread onto a plate alongside the eggs. He placed the food in front of me, offering a fork and knife.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  He started to clean up so I could eat, but I was nervous, and when I got nervous, I tended to blurt out whatever came to mind.

  Jokingly, I asked, “Are you, like…a vampire or something?”

  Amused, he glanced up at me from the sink. “No.”

  “That’s good.” I fumbled with the fork in my hand.

  “Is the food all right?” he asked since it remained untouched.

  “Yeah,” I replied. “Aren’t you hungry?”

  “No. I already ate.”

  “That’s something a vampire would say.”

  Gabriel chuckled. “If you’re so concerned about me being a vampire, I could give you some garlic to put around your room before you go to sleep tonight.”

  “Are you saying I can stay here?” I searched his face to see if his words rang true. I’d only just met this guy, and I wasn’t sure if I could trust him. But I also had nowhere else to go.

  “Yes,” he said, placing a spatula in the dishwasher. “Now, these men who were chasing you—what did they look like?”

  “Couldn’t say. They were dressed i
n all-black and wore hoods that covered their faces,” I explained. “The only things that stood out were the skull tattoos on their hands.”

  He stopped scrubbing the pan and turned to me. “Did you say, skull tattoos?”

  “Yeah,” I replied in distraction, wiping up egg yolk with the toast since we were comfortably talking now.

  “How many men were there?”

  “Six.”

  He stared at me. “You said Sister Helen sent you. Who is she?”

  “She’s the head nun at the Holy Trinity Home for Disadvantaged Youth. It’s an orphanage,” I explained. “I’ve lived there my entire life. My father died before I was born, and my mother died shortly after giving birth. Sister Helen said you would know what to do. She gave me that backpack.”

  “Do you mind if I take a look?” he asked, drying his hands on a dish towel.

  “No, feel free.” I rose to put my plate and utensils in the dishwasher.

  Gabriel walked over to the backpack and examined it.

  “It was the strangest thing,” I continued, coming to his side. “One of the guys in black grabbed onto it. I thought I was doomed, but it was like it burned him or something because he let me go.”

  “That makes sense. It’s been doused in holy water,” Gabriel replied.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Do you know what’s inside?” he asked.

  “No. Sister Helen gave me the bag. I didn’t have time to look.”

  “Did she give you a key?”

  “No…why?”

  “Because there’s a lock around the zipper. There’s no way to open it without a key.” Gabriel’s brow creased in thought.

  “Wait a second… Can we go back to the holy water?”

  My question brought his attention back to me. I could tell he was sizing me up, trying to figure out if he could trust me, much like I had moments before. Abruptly, Gabriel walked back to the living room and indicated for me to take a seat on the couch. He stood before me and began to speak.

  “How well do you know your Bible?” he asked.

  “Well enough,” I responded hesitantly. My knowledge of the Bible was slightly better than the average person because of the sisters, but it was nothing compared to the knowledge they had.

  “What do you know about angels?”

  “Not much other than the four archangels. Michael, Raphael, Uriel, Gabri—” I stopped and stared at him, sensing the direction this conversation was going. “You’re not saying…”

  He nodded.

  “You expect me to believe you’re an angel? And not just any angel, but Archangel Gabriel?”

  “Yes.”

  His one-word answer bewildered me, and suddenly, I wasn’t so sure if I could trust him. This guy was a complete stranger, I was in his house, and no one else knew where I was. More intimidating was the knowledge that if I couldn’t stay here, there was nowhere else for me to go. Perhaps I could track down Sophia, but I’d left my phone at the orphanage, and she was staying at her roommate’s house anyway. I had no idea who the girl was or where she even lived. The only option left would be to stay on the streets, which I didn’t want to do because those guys were still out there, and I wasn’t so sure I could defend myself against them.

  I figured playing along with Gabriel was my best option for now, so I exuded a sense of calm in the hope of hiding my panic. “Where are your wings? If you’re an angel, shouldn’t you have wings?” I leaned my head to glance at his back.

  “Yes, I do have them. No one can see them though, not until I reveal them.”

  “Interesting…” It was a cop-out reply.

  “I can tell you don’t believe me,” he said.

  I chuckled. “How do you expect me to?”

  Gabriel shook his head and smiled. “I don’t know. I thought your open-mindedness about vampires was a good indicator you have a mind for the extraordinary.”

  I could tell he was trying to joke around, possibly even get on my good side, but this was too unbelievable. “How exactly are you here?” I asked. “I mean…if you want me to trust you, maybe you could explain how this is all possible?”

  “It’s difficult,” he said with downcast eyes.

  My voice shook. “Well, could you try? Because I feel like my life’s been turned upside-down.”

  Gabriel took a moment to compose himself before he spoke. “Many centuries ago, seven of us archangels were sent down to Earth to guard humanity in the ages to come. We were scattered across the world, on every continent, and were told to wait and watch for a sign that would indicate it was time for us to act. We spent many years waiting and watching. We witnessed many atrocities. Yet no sign came.

  “During our time on Earth, we knew we were not to interfere with the problems of humanity. We had been sent to guard, but we could not involve ourselves in any atrocities or acts of evil. As time went on, we assimilated into society because we were never called back, and our role here became obsolete. With no obvious sign and no means of participating in the struggles of humankind, we began to lose hope and faith…until now.”

  His explanation didn’t convince me, but his last words piqued my curiosity. “What do you mean?”

  “You. You must be the sign we were told to wait and watch for. Clearly, whatever is in that bag is important to the fallen forces, and if it’s important to them, it’s important to us. Sister Helen entrusted you with it for a reason. It’s now time for us to finally act.”

  “Hold on, hold on,” I said, getting up from the couch. Nothing was making sense, but his mention of Sister Helen reminded me of her words: “Whoever is there will help you…they can protect you. You need to trust me.” My trust in Sister Helen was a million times greater than my trust in Gabriel, so I knew I had to stay here, to follow this through and figure everything out. “Before we go any further, I have some questions I want to ask.”

  “Ask me whatever you like,” Gabriel said.

  “All right.” I paused a moment to think. “When you say evil, you mean what, exactly?”

  He swallowed hard, clearly uncomfortable. “I had a brother once, a fellow archangel who fell from Heaven—”

  “Wait. You’re not about to say what I think you are, right?”

  “If you mean, am I insinuating the evil I’m fighting is Satan, then yes.”

  I rubbed my hands over my face and sat back down. Sister Helen, I reminded myself. Do this for her.

  “So, the devil was the one chasing me?”

  “No. Those men who were chasing you are fallen angels. More specifically, they are the top-ranking fallen angels who directly interact with and execute Satan’s bidding. The skull tattoo is their identifier. In addition to Satan, only the six of them have it because it marks their rank.”

  I took a deep breath. “How was I able to escape them?”

  Gabriel sensed that was a rhetorical question and remained silent. After a few long seconds, I found the courage to speak again.

  “Where do I fit into all this? You said I was the sign you’ve been waiting for, but why did Sister Helen give me the backpack?”

  He nodded. “A very good question. However, that’s where things get more speculative.”

  “How so?”

  “Judging by the symbols on that lock,” Gabriel said, pointing to the backpack, “it would seem Sister Helen was part of the Sacrarium.” At my blank look, he elaborated. “The Sacrarium is an order of people who have been entrusted to protect the holy bloodline and anything relating to it. They believe there is one remaining descendant alive today.”

  I gazed at him, mouth slightly agape, as I processed his words. “The holy bloodline? Of Jesus and Mary Magdalene? Isn’t that a myth or something?”

  He smiled. “Now you see why I called it speculative. To some, the idea is blasphemy. To others, it does not concern them. To a select few, it is every part real. I do not know if the bloodline exists or not. To the Sacrarium, it does. History has called them many names and attached certain agendas to th
eir order, but I’ve heard the Sacrarium that is active today is nothing like those of ancient times. They are merely here to protect the bloodline since it has been persecuted for centuries. Because of their involvement, the members of the order are persecuted as well, to the point of near extinction—which is why you might be their last hope.”

  “Me?” I asked. “But I know nothing about them.”

  “I understand that. As I said, it would seem Sister Helen was part of this order, and it seems she wanted you to be as well. Why else would she have given you the backpack? She must have thought you would know what to do.”

  “But I don’t. I have absolutely no idea what I’m supposed to do with that thing! All I know is, it nearly got me killed.”

  “I believe you,” Gabriel reassured me. “For whatever reason, Sister Helen ran out of time to train you. She was obviously threatened by the fallen forces if she had to flee and sent you here.”

  “You said you weren’t part of the Sacrarium. Why would she send me here? How would she even know about this place?”

  “Those are difficult questions I have no answer to. However, some people, such as dedicated religious ministry, can sense my celestial energy. I’ve never met Sister Helen, but the Sacrarium has ways of knowing things that even escape me. Somehow, they must have discovered me and my brothers’ presence on Earth. When you arrived, you asked if I was Michael.”

  I nodded.

  “They obviously thought he would be here, which means they know about more than one of us.”

  “Okay, so they have ways to find out about you all… But why would she send me here and not to another member of the Sacrarium?”

  “There are two possible answers. One, there are no members of the Sacrarium left. Two, no else but us can combat an evil such as Satan and his numbers. We’ve done it before, and we will do it again. I surmise Sister Helen thought you would be most safe with those who could not only defeat Satan, but also protect you.”