Evangelina, Warrior Angel: The Search for the Glory Child

By Russell Marrone

In this era of fantastical beings and superheroes, let us not forget the original superheroes of the universe--angels. In this second installment of her saga, Evangelina, a minor angel, has been called into service as a guardian angel. She is given a very special ward, the Glory Child, Jonathan. The young boy, just two years old, is a once-in-a-millennia gift from God to mortals and he is destined to improve the human condition. In an effort to use the child as a negotiating piece, Lucifer sends Beelzebub, a Prince of Hell, to kidnap the child. Arriving too late to thwart the demons, Evangelina chases the kidnappers across the country to the gates of Hell. During the battles between the recently minted guardian angel and the demons that confront her, Evangelina discovers her true powers as an angel.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Resource Publications
• Release date: Jul 6, 2023
• ISBN: 9781666778021

Russell Marrone

Russell Marrone has been a teacher, children’s author, illustrator, actor, songwriter, and mentor to many. A graduate of Wayne State University, he edited and produced a Columbia University gold medal–winning magazine for a local school district. Currently he is the CEO of MERC Services and the director of agent development for ADLRE and KW Central. Retired from teaching, he is also the author of The Wizard’s Quest.

Book preview

Prologue

Evangelina sat vigilant in the ICU watching over Brent, her current charge, as his breathing began to ebb toward his final moments. She thought back to when, as a minor angel and custodian of the universe, she held the dismal job of sweeping debris from supernovas and pushing planets across the universe. Little did she know she was being talked about in the back rooms of heaven where many were studying her happy spirit and fierce diligence despite the nature of her work. Then, one early morning she was called to an audience before Archangel Zadkiel, head of the Choir of Powers. We’ve been watching you. We want to offer you a position as guardian angel. Trial, actually. Female angels were but a small minority in Heaven and unrepresented in any of the choirs of angels. She now possessed a chance to prove herself worthy to face demons and make every other female angel proud. She welcomed the new job as role model and guardian angel. 

Her first ward, Mandy, seemed an easy assignment at first, but she learned dealing with demons was never easy. She chuckled to herself, It was more like trial by fire. It was through Mandy she met Brent on her rookie run as a guardian angel and demon chaser.

Brent was a good man with a solid moral base; watching over him had been a pleasure. It’s not to say he was free of temptation, for it is not the case with lawyers. Many temptations present themselves to attorneys daily, but it seemed Brent’s moral compass always pointed him the right way.

Now at the end of his life, Evangelina waited anxiously to escort him to the pearly gates. She followed the monitors attached to him as they gradually weakened. On earth he knew her as Ev from her first assignment and she wondered if he would recognize her now. It had been a long time since meeting her as a mortal in Mandy’s hospital room.

Multiple alarms went off and flashing lights filled the room. Within seconds, nurses and doctors entered the cramped unit and went about their business. A doctor hung over Brent’s body with a stethoscope listening to his chest. The nurses scurried about readying equipment and other necessary supplies. A crash cart entered the room and the technician readied the machine. Once the paddles were greased and the machine charged, the tech handed them to the doctor. He secured them on Brent’s body and sent the charge through his chest. After three frustrating attempts and a flat line on the heart monitor, the doctor looked at his watch and turned to the head nurse, "TOD, 3:14 p.m.

Brent’s essence rose away from his body and looked around the room. Being a bit confused he turned and visited his physical body lying on the hospital bed and asked, Am I dead?

Evangelina answered, Welcome to life everlasting, Brent. I’m Evangelina, your escort.

Wide eyed, he said, Wow . . . interesting. You look familiar. Do I know you?

We met a long while back, but you have places to go and special people to see, Evangelina said, taking his hand, Do you have any special requests?

Naw, let’s just do this thing . . . on second thought, I always hoped I’d see Mandy again.

Time to go, she said with a subtle smirk, and they ascended upward.

Chapter 1

Demons Conspire

Deep in the bowels of Earth, Lucifer sat at the head of the handcrafted, black onyx conference table impatiently strumming his fingers. His furrowed brow hovered over wicked eyes darting across the nearly empty room. Only Satan and Asmodeus were in attendance for the meeting called by Lucifer, their leader. The two knew never to keep the emperor waiting. Squirming, their eyes cast down to avoid personal contact, they waited for his pulsating fingers to break rhythm and become still— his moment of silence was a prelude to an explosion of mad rage.

Finally, Lucifer slammed his fist on the table, creating a hard echo of rattling and pulsating skulls adorning the walls of the cavern.

Dammit to Hell! Where are the other four princes of Hell? We don’t even have a quorum. Where are they? They were fully made aware of this meeting, growled Lucifer. Lilith! Step forward out of the shadows where I can see you.

Imperial Highness Lilith emerged from a dimly lit corner of the room to approach Lucifer. Never to be cowed by any devil, never subservient to any man, including Lucifer, her former husband, she gave a respectful nod and brought her head upright to answer the emperor’s call.

Yes, Master.

Where is Mammon?

He is in Washington, D.C. holding audience with a group of money-worshiping politicians.

Where is Leviathan?

He’s in New Delhi working the girls into an envy frenzy at the Miss Universe pageant.

Where is Belphegor?

He said he didn’t care much about the meeting and he’d be at a new and upcoming rap artist’s concert. Some guy who calls himself ‘Apathy.’

And Beelzebub?

He’s French-frying violent mortal souls in boiling sulfur on the seventh level.

Are you joking? Get that slacker in here now!

As you wish, Sire.

Lilith nodded politely. The door groaned as she opened it a crack and slithered into the hallway, happy to be out of range of Lucifer’s temper tantrum. Once outside, she sucked in a breath to compose herself. While she regularly held her ground with Lucifer, she preferred to be out of his range of vision during his rampages and he had been on a terror streak since their last excursion on Earth. And now this. Her role of leadership depended on her ability to keep her charges in line, never allow them to embarrass her, and never cause her to appear weak in the hierarchy. She wanted no part of his wrath, understanding he could cancel her out of his life with a switch on the body grinder, feed her to the minions and never regret it. Now, out of the emperor’s presence, she re-established her standing of power and bellowed, Blisdon! Her authoritative voice echoed down the cavernous hallway. Lilith crossed her arms and tapped her toe impatiently until hearing the sound of mincing footsteps scrambling in the distance. She watched as the little ball of hate turned the corner, picking up speed until he breathlessly screeched to a halt at her feet. He fell to his knees and bowed his head.

What do you require, Your Imperial Highness?

Retrieve your boss from whatever he is doing and bring him here to this meeting with the emperor immediately.

As you wish, Your Highness.

Blisdon rose to his feet, served a quick bow to Lilith, then turned on his heel and exploded down the corridor. He entered the cavernous lava tube and careened down the red glowing tube at break-neck speed. Known as Blisdon the Quick, he zipped through the tangle of tubes all the way down to the seventh level of Hell. Upon reaching the torture tube, Blisdon checked each room for Prince Beelzebub. Darting in and out, he came upon him tormenting a host of souls.

Bound and hanging head-first above an enormous vat of boiling sulfur, the collection of souls struggled and screamed anticipating their near future. Beelzebub sat disinterested, peeling his favorite dragon fruit with his razor-sharp claw. Upon peeling his snack, he reached over to the chain holding the tortured mortal souls and ratcheted it down one notch, sending the souls ever closer to their burning bath.

Master.

Blisdon. What brings you to these parts?

I’ve been sent by Her Imperial Highness, Lilith, to inform you of a meeting with Emperor Lucifer.

When is that?

Now, Prince Beelzebub.

Son of a bitch! He has more useless meetings than anyone I know. All right, all right, tell them I am on my way.

With his mission complete, Blisdon turned on his heel and scampered back through the glowing lava tubes. Upon arriving at Lilith’s feet, Blisdon bowed his head reverently. He is on his way, Your Highness.

Fine.

Satisfied Beelzebub had received notice, she reentered the ceremonial chamber with Lucifer, irate as ever, sitting at the head of the table. Asmodeus remained slumped with eyes closed. Satan, angry and bored, rubbed his brow as he stared off into space. Hearing the door close, all three demons looked up and watched Lilith approach.

Well?

He has been informed, thusly, and is said to be on his way.

Incompetent slacker! He better be in this meeting in the next 10 seconds or . . .

Or what? said Beelzebub strutting through the doorway.

Sit down so we can start this meeting.

Beelzebub entered the room with theatrical flamboyance. He grabbed an ornately carved chair and waved his hand as if to an audience before sitting.

Lucifer grimaced at the sight of this foolish demon, perpetually dressed in bad taste, as if going to the Devil’s Ball: black tuxedo; fluorescent, hot red bowtie; and highly polished designer shoes. Ridiculous. Gaudy. Tacky. He seethed at this suborddinate demon’s impertinence and disrespect for his master and determined then and there Beelzebub would pay, but he had important news to convey and a mission to assign. He grabbed his bejeweled gavel and pounded out the beginning of the meeting.

Through the hard work of minor demons who roam the Earth it has come to my attention a Glory Child was born a while back and is living unprotected in a small town on a great peninsula surrounded by fresh water.

What does it mean to us? asked Asmodeus.

The boy is a Glory Child. He is a once in a millennium gift to mortals from God. He is a child of destiny, said Lucifer.

Yeah, so what? said Beelzebub.

So what? So what? Do you realize what kind of bargaining chip he would be if we could snatch him? Archangel Zadkiel, head of the guardian angels, will look like an incompetent fool and we would have some real bargaining power.

So, let’s kill him and grab his soul, said Beelzebub.

You are an idiot, said Lucifer. The maximum bargaining power is in the fact he is alive. If we have him and he is still alive, we can pretty much write our own ticket. They will do anything we ask to get the boy back and return him to humanity.

You know what? You’re absolutely right. They will have no choice but to deal with us. If they don’t, we’ll kill him and hold his soul hostage, said Asmodeus.

Better yet, we’ll torture him and send visions of his torture to heaven, said Lucifer.

Perfect, said Satan, who will you send?

Well, I cannot send you, Satan, because you have too much trouble controlling your temper. It would not bode well for a toddler. Asmodeus, I don’t think anyone in their right mind would allow you, considering your perversion with children, to be alone with a child in the back seat of a car. It leaves the quest to you, Beelzebub.

Oh, why me? Can’t you send one of your minor demons to do this?

Let’s say it’s a chance for you to make up for the last fiasco you headed up on Earth.

Really? Really? The only way I like children is with mustard and ketchup.

It’s all yours, Beelzebub. It’s a chance for you to distinguish yourself.

Lucifer gaveled the meeting closed and Satan and Asmodeus popped up from their seats, shook hands and made a speedy dash towards the door. Each smiled to himself he’d narrowly skirted the wrath of Lucifer and a grueling assignment. Beelzebub slumped in his chair; his moment of showmanship gone. He now held his face in his clawed hand. Lucifer got to his feet, satisfied, and began to retire to his chamber.

Wait . . . Stop. Lucifer, can I take an aide with me? asked Beelzebub.

Of course, you can. Take whomever you need. Be quick about it. An opportunity like this doesn’t happen often and we’re counting on you, said Lucifer, delighted to have removed Beelzebub’s flash of dazzle.

If you say so. Where am I heading?

A place called Hartland. A quaint little town with simple folks, so try not to stand out.

Lucifer left the ceremonial room and retired to his personal chamber, impressed with his own sense of empowerment, while a dispirited Beelzebub pulled out of his chair and slammed it back under the table. Angry with himself for allowing Lucifer to hold sway over him, he recouped his regal stance and entered the corridor and hollered, Blisdon!

Beelzebub’s call echoed throughout the cavernous corridors of Hell. With no response, Beelzebub called out again. Off in the distance he could hear scrambling footsteps drawing near. Finally, from around the corner, Beelzebub watched Blisdon hurtle toward him at full speed, then come to a screeching halt ten feet from him. The minion fell to his knees and, with head bowed, slid to the feet of his master.

You beckoned, oh great and powerful Master?

Yes, peon.

How can I serve you?

Make ready for a trip to the surface of the Earth.

Is there anything you require?

The limo we used last time will suffice.

May I ask which portal we will use?

The portal at Millar Cemetery will work.

And when will we depart?

Immediately!

As you wish, Sire.

Head bowed, Blisdon raised himself slowly and backed away from Beelzebub. In a split second, he turned and sped off down the corridor. Beelzebub reached into his pocket and retrieved a large vial of white powder. Removing the cap, he dug his claw-like nail into the loose particles and retrieved a hefty dose. Bringing it to his nostrils, he inhaled the whole clawful in one intake of breath. He wiped his nose and returned the cap to the vial.

Ah . . . , he sniffed, much better.

Chapter 2

Penguins and Popcorn

Jonathan, open your mouth . . . . . . . . . . c’mon, open up. Stop moving around. Lemme brush your teeth . . . . . . . c’mon honey, you’re wasting time. Mary grabbed her son’s mouth to frog face him, but he continued to move his head in every direction. Okay, okay. Just be a stinker.

For whatever reason the word stinker amused him and he opened his mouth to repeat the word Stinker? It surprised her that the word came out his mouth. However, this gave Mary the opportunity to stick the toothbrush in his mouth and give it a quick swoosh before he decided to close up shop again.

Instead, he puffed his chest and said, I’m a stinker.

Exasperated, she agreed, You’re a little stinker who needs to get into his onesies and head downstairs. It’s Mr. Pickles night on TV.

Yay. Mr. Pickles, he said.

Mary yelled down the stairs to Joe, We’ll be down in a sec.

Great! Popcorn’s nearly ready.

Mary slipped Jonathan into his onesie and he scrambled up, eager for her to carry him down the stairs.

Well, finally, my guys are here. What took so long?

I’m a stinker! said Jonathan, as Mary let him down.

A what? asked Joe, looking to Mary.

A stinker. You a stinker, Daddy?

Mary defended herself: Hey. . . he wouldn’t let me brush his teeth . . .

All twelve of them?

Oh, forget it. It makes him proud to be a stinker . . . he likes the word, she said, grabbing the bag of kernel free Pirate’s Booty from the cupboard for Jonathan. You get the TV ready, kiddo, and I’ll bring in the popcorn and napkins.

Right on, said Joe, swiping a quick kiss from Mary before exiting to the living room."

Mary hustled to pour the puffs into Jonathan’s plastic cup, fill bowls of microwave popcorn for herself and Joe, and dampen paper toweling for each of them.

Here, Jonathan, Mary said, taking a quick turn to hand her son his cup of popcorn Take your Pirate’s Booty into the . . . Jonathan? Where’d you go? . . . Jonathan? she peeked into the TV room, Joe? Is he with you?

Not here.

She was about to call out again when she heard, MOMMY! MOMMY!

Startled, Mary called back, Jonathan? Where are you? . . .

MOMMY!!!

Mary scurried through the house, stopping at the bottom of the stairs to find her son standing at the top, holding his Mr. Pickles doll . . . a replica of the real Mr. Pickles on TV with his black tuxedo and sporting a bright red bow tie.

Get me.

Oh, Jonny, you scared me. I couldn’t find you. How’d you get up there by yourself, Sweetie? . . . she said, setting him down. Scoot, you little . . . little angel. Go help Daddy get ready while I bring in the popcorn.

Mary entered the living room to find Jonathan standing in front of a blank television screen, obviously waiting for Mr. Pickles to visit.

Joe? What’re you waiting for?

I can’t find the controller, he said, looking down at the floor, lifting throw pillows, checking under the couch until finally finding it under a stack of magazines. Got it.

Okay, Jonathan, let’s sit and wait for Daddy to let our friend in.

With the family cozy on the couch, Jonathan snuggled in-between his mom and dad, Joe turned on the TV just in time for the opening theme song.

Pickles, Pickles! Jonathan launched into the intro to Mr. Pickles Adventures. He sang along with the theme song as he best he could. He made up words he couldn’t pronounce and garbled those he couldn’t remember.

So, where’s Mr. Pickles today?

Looks like he’s in the desert, Mary pointed out.

Isn’t the desert too hot for penguins?

It’s a cartoon, Joe, it’s a cartoon.

Well, with animation today, he looks pretty real to me, chuckled Joe.

All three laughed as Mr. Pickles slipped off the back of a camel, grabbed onto its tail and was towed by the beast full speed through the sand.

When the show came to its end, it was time for Jonathan’s bedtime. Mary picked up the toddler and wrestled with his protests

Mr. Pickles, more. More, Momma, more, whined little Jonathan.

I’m sorry, Mary said, "it’s Mr. Pickles’ bedtime. He has to go to sleep. It’s your bedtime, too. When you wake up, we’ll see if Mr. Pickles Adventures is on, okay?"

Jonathan continued to struggle, but when Momma said it was bedtime, it meant it was bedtime. Mary changed the boy’s diaper and buttoned his onesie. She gave him his pacifier and turned off the room light. Cradling him in her arms by the glow of the Mr. Pickles night light, Mary sang him a lullaby.

"Now it’s time to say good night. Good night, sleep tight.

Dream sweet dreams throughout the night. Good night, sleep tight . . ."

Slowly Jonathan simmered down and became a lump of sweetness in his mother’s arms. She laid him in his crib on his back with his Mr. Pickles under his arm. After tucking him in she planted a tender kiss upon his forehead and whispered, Sleep tight little man. Mommy and Daddy love you. 

The little boy drifted away into sleep. Mary stepped back and admired her son. She thought to herself, He’s perfect. She walked to the door and turned around once more. After being so apprehensive about becoming a mom, she couldn’t think of anything else she would ever want to be. She gently closed the door and padded to her bedroom.

Chapter 3

A Mother’s Nightmare

Well after midnight, the black limousine inched down Hartland Road until it entered the sleepy little town of Hartland. It slowly passed by the closed-up shops and businesses which lined Avon Street, Hartland’s main downtown street. The full moon glistened off the limo’s blacked out windows as it made its