An Unexpected Letter

A Brand New Soul Summoner Story

The corner of a white envelope peeked out from the front slot in the mailbox. 

Weird. “I know I checked that earlier.” 

But who knows? I’d been existing in the hazy daze of sleep deprivation for the past year, since the day Iliana was born. Motherhood wears on the brain cells.

I shifted into park and got out of the otherwise empty car, looking all around to ensure I was alone. We couldn’t be too careful these days.

“Hey, sexy.” The familiar voice over the security speaker by the iron gate made me jump.

I smiled. “Hello, husband.”

At the teal mailbox, I pulled down the front flap. The envelope came down with it, jutting out from the mail slot. I plucked it out and turned it over.

There was no stamp. No address. Only “Sloan and Nathan” handwritten in cursive.

My head whipped up and scanned carefully around.

“Hey, Nathan?” I called toward the gate.

“Yeah?”

“Has anybody come by today?” I asked.

“Not that I’m aware of. Why?”

As I slipped my finger under the envelope’s flap, I scanned the trees, listening carefully for any movement in the woods. If I said the least thing slightly alarming, Nathan would summon the cavalry. Which would be on a whole new level now that Azrael had given him a tank. An actual tank.

“There’s a letter in the mailbox,” I said.

There was a beat of silence. “You know that’s what they’re designed for, right?”

When I held up my middle finger, he chuckled.

I pulled out a thick piece of white paper, fancy parchment with a heavy grain. Fitting for the neatest penmanship I’d ever seen. Definitely couldn’t be from anyone born in this century. Nobody writes in cursive anymore. I flipped to the back.

“Hey, Sloan?” Nathan asked.

I glanced back toward the gate.

“I like your butt.”

I laughed and shook my head. Then my eyes scanned the script. “Oh, God,” I said with a gasp and covered my heart.

“What’s wrong?” Nathan’s tone was no longer flirty.

“It’s a letter.” I walked to the gate and turned the signature toward the camera. “From Father John.”

“Whoa. What’s it say?” Nathan asked.

I read the letter aloud.

Dear Sloan and Nathan,

I hope this letter finds you both well and filled with the joy that parenthood brings. As you embark on this remarkable journey with your precious daughter, Iliana, there are truths that I must share with you.

As you well know, Iliana is not an ordinary child. As the offspring of an Angel of Life and an Angel of Death, she carries within her the certainty of extraordinary abilities. Some have been active since she was in the womb. Others are forthcoming.

On her first celestial birthday—which falls not on her actual premature birth date but on the date she was meant to be born, July 11—Iliana will begin to manifest her superpowers. As you know, these powers, inherited from her angelic lineage, are vast and wondrous.

Each angel birthday will bring powers anew. Expect them to emerge in unpredictable ways, in no specific order.

It is important for you both to understand that while these abilities may seem overwhelming at times, they are integral to Iliana’s destiny. Embrace her uniqueness and nurture her gifts, so they come as naturally to her as breathing.

As her parents, you have been chosen for this critical task. Your love and support will be instrumental in helping Iliana accomplish greatness this earth has never seen. Evil had a plan to use her for destruction, but I tell you now, she will bring hope in the world’s darkest hour.

You are never alone. Eden watches over all of you with great care and affection, and the Council stands ready to offer guidance and assistance.

In closing, I want to express my deepest admiration for the love and devotion you have already shown this special child. Your journey together is just beginning, and I have every confidence that it will be filled with wonder, adventure, and boundless love.

Eternally,

Father John

“More powers already?” Nathan asked.

“Tomorrow,” I said with a grimace.

We were already struggling to contain the powers Iliana already had. Every time she cried, it rained. And, in case you didn’t know, babies cry a lot. On the upside, our property’s springtime bloom that year had rivaled the gardens of the Biltmore House.

“Where’s the letter from?” Nathan asked.

I looked at the envelope again. “There’s no stamp or postal markings at all.”

“It was hand-delivered?”

“Looks like it.”

“Huh,” Nathan said. “I’ll go back through the cameras.”

Something told me he wouldn’t find anything. The Father’s ways were certainly not our ways. If he’d wanted us to see him or whoever delivered the letter, we would have.

“We should probably clear our calendars tomorrow,” I said, worry growing in my heart. “It might be an interesting day.”

“Hey,” Nathan said, suddenly perky. “If tomorrow is another birthday, we should definitely get another cake.”

A snort escaped my nose. Leave it to my husband to always find the bright side with a sugar high. “I’ll see you in a minute,” I said, walking back to my car.

“Sloan?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

I smiled. “I love you too.”

With a loud buzz, the iron gate parted and I started up the winding mountain road. As I drove, my mind scrolled through the list of powers of an Angel of Life and an Angel of Death: healing, telekinesis, fire starting, energy manipulation, flying, resurrection . . .

I gulped.

Execution.

As if child-rearing wasn’t complicated and exhausting enough. Now we’d be raising a toddler with killing power? Geez. More and more I wished the Father didn’t think us so capable. 

But which new superpower would come first? I mentally crossed my fingers, praying for something easy, like discernment, or useful, like shielding others from supernatural danger.

However, if I’d learned anything at all in the past few years, it was a plain and simple truth:

We were not that lucky.