Soul Betrayer (Ubiquity, #2)

by Lindt, Allyson

  He caught Abaddon’s fingers and traced his thumb over her knuckles. He tried to fall into the physical contact. This was nothing more than a business connection, and he needed to re-learn the difference between an emotional attachment and a physical one. Before Ronnie, he didn’t have an issue with casual sex. It was one of the few ways to hang onto sanity for someone who had a mortal form for thousands of years.

  Since his time with Ronnie, thinking about hooking up with someone else made her memory surge back lucid and potent, sliding under his skin like silk and stealing away again in an instant.

  He’d left Ronnie because when he loved Metatron eons ago, he’d been willing to become mortal in order to experience humanity by her side. He was worried if he learned to love someone now, the temptation to fall would return. Heaven and hell were in too much upheaval for him to make that selfish choice.

  If he were tempted to go back to Ronnie, if he weren’t worried it would distract him from the matters at hand and make him question where his priorities lay, he’d still hesitate. To him, Metatron died three thousand years ago and Uriel was a separate entity. Now, according to all accounts, they were one and the same. Though he knew that was how the process worked when a full merger happened, he struggled to reconcile the angel he loved and the demon he wanted to.

  “You could try a different approach with your targets, you know.” Abaddon guided him to another painting. It wasn’t as stark as some of the others, but the pain in the model’s eyes drove into Michael’s core.

  “I give everyone a chance to surrender what they shouldn’t have.”

  “Not like that.” Amusement ran through her words. “And you don’t. Not really. It’s kind of an in-your-face thing. You demand they give up their strength or die. What kind of a choice is that?”

  “The only choice.”

  “You did more for me.”

  “And you still have what I want you to give up.” He concentrated on keeping his voice low and teasing, despite the words. It made it easier to keep up the happy-couple illusion.

  “But I may not always. I’m saying you should consider something more conversational. Speak with them all friendly like. Try to help them understand.”

  “I’ll think about it.” He used a kinder tactic when a cherub latched itself onto an unwitting human. A cherub was naïve, but they were still individuals. If one found a human, Michael talked to both to see if their minds were compatible. The human host always took priority. If there was a clash, he’d extract the cherub and send it back to heaven. However, an angel’s primary mission was to help people achieve their true potential. If merging a person with a cherub, who stumbled onto them by mistake, helped rather than hindered that goal, he helped the two become one.

  This was different. Angels and demons knew they were taking from someone else’s existence. They’d been taught the rules.

  She nodded at the painting in front of them. “One of my favorite pieces of his. Almost as if he had a muse.”

  “You?” Michael asked. Abaddon said she was a patron. Though she never had a lot of respect for angels who metaphorically perched on shoulders and whispered inspiration to people.

  She laughed and shook her head. “No. That’s not my calling.” Her purse chirped. “Excuse me.” She fished out her phone, and frowned when she read the screen. “I’m sorry to cut this short, handsome, but I’ve got to run.”

  “Is everything all right?”

  “It’s fine.” She kissed him on the cheek. “I have a meeting with a muse.”

  She vanished. Her words, innocent as they sounded, sank heavily into Michael’s bones. If she became part of the problem, rather than helping him with a solution, would he be able to destroy her? What if it was another old friend? There was a breaking point somewhere, and he dreaded the day he had to make that choice.

  Chapter Six

  A safe house. Great. Because Izzy needed another unresolved question to haunt him. Why did Ubiquity have a safe house?

  Tia gestured at the studio apartment. “Make yourselves comfortable. The books you wanted are on the table. I’m getting the rest.” She’d promised that if Izzy and Holden let her move them to a safe location, she’d go to the library and get the books Izzy wanted.

  A mattress sat on the floor in one corner, next to a battered easy chair. There was a kitchenette on the other side of the room, and a dining table with two chairs in the middle of it all. Izzy knew the layout. It looked just like Ronnie’s old place—or that of most agents who worked for Ubiquity.

  The simplistic, cramped living conditions were Gabriel’s idea when he and Lucifer started the company. Back when the two were pretending to be civil. The plainness of the apartments was supposed to keep a brand new angel, one who’d just received a physical form and experienced a rush from interacting with pretty much anything, from sensory overload while they adjusted to their new bodies. And then it was supposed to motivate them to achieve more and earn something better based on their own tastes.

  At least, that was what Gabe said. Izzy suspected he didn’t feel anyone needed something so fancy as a livable apartment to do a job they were made for anyway.

  He hovered in the doorway next to Holden, not sure where they were supposed to sit. Tia nudged him forward, and the latch clicked shut behind him.

  “I’m sorry it’s not more.” Her voice was sheepish.

  Izzy turned to face her. She studied her shoes as they traced lines in the carpet. Holden nudged him with his elbow and nodded at the walls. It took Izzy a moment to realize what he was pointing at.

  The place wasn’t as barren and nondescript as it appeared on the surface. Even though there were only a few appliances in the kitchen, they were all vibrant blue, as if someone had melted a crayon to color them. A handful of prints were thumbtacked to the walls, each of them a brightly colored but abstract interpretation of flowers. And the comforter on the bed—as fluffy as Izzy had ever seen a blanket—was covered with tiny bluebells.

  Realization sank in, joined by guilt. This wasn’t a safe house. It looked like a Ubiquity apartment because it was Tia’s. “It’s perfect. I have zero complaints.”

  She shrugged. “We didn’t know where else to bring you, and this place has wards, and I’m only here because my last place was blown up by Ari, which you know a bit about, and I’ll be moving out soon. I found the perfect place, but it’s not like you can time things like this, and—”

  “It’s fantastic.” Izzy rested a hand on her arm. “Thank you for putting us up. What are you supposed to do while we’re here, though?”

  She shrugged. “I’ll make sure you’re settled, and then I have to run some errands, so you can make yourselves at home. And I promised to answer your questions.” That was the other condition she had to meet for Izzy to agree to this entire thing.

  It felt awkward making himself comfortable in someone else’s home under these conditions. But he also didn’t want her to think he was turning his nose up at her offer. Izzy grabbed a chair at the table, grateful when Holden followed his lead.

  “I’m not sure where to start.” Izzy should have been better prepared, since it was his request. “Was that really Abaddon this morning?”

  “Abbie-what?” Holden asked.

  Tia chewed on her bottom lip, glancing between him and Izzy.

  “You told me to bring him.” Izzy understood her hesitation, though. He was still coping with the fact that Holden had any idea she was different, let alone how to explain it.

  She furrowed her brow. “I know, but I’m supposed to give you answers.”

  “Do you want me to plug my ears?” Sarcasm lined Holden’s question.

  Izzy had no idea why the two of them were clashing. He did know he’d have to answer Holden’s questions either way, which could take a long time. If he even believed Izzy. “Give me the rundown. It’s okay. Blame it on me if anyone asks why you let someone else listen in.”

  She drummed her fingers against her thigh. “Fine. Cliff Notes
version. You know how Ariel kind of went nuts and burned down large portions of the city?”

  The time where she’d ripped out the remainder of Izzy’s immortality first, and made sure his apartment was one of those impacted? “I’m vaguely familiar with it.”

  She dragged the easy chair across the room and dropped cross-legged into it. “Anyway, people kind of noticed. Like human people.”

  “You think?” Holden asked.

  She turned her narrowed gaze on him, irritation smearing her face.

  Izzy reached across the table and covered his hand. “I promise we’ll talk. But I have to hear this first.”

  Holden glanced at Tia one more time before facing Izzy. “Sure. I’m sorry.”

  “Anyway.” She spat the word out with venom. She glared at Holden again, breathed deep, and turned back to Izzy. “Remember, if anyone asks, it was your idea to let him in on company secrets.”

  Seriously, what made Holden the one person in the world Tia didn’t like?

  Tia shook her head. “There are people out there, not just angels and demons, but humans, who—and I don’t know how they know this, but supposedly they do—want to figure out how to do what you did.”

  “I didn’t do anything. Someone blew up my apartment. No secrets there.” And then what she meant hit Izzy, and his gut sank. “That? Really?”

  She nodded.

  The secret to how he’d kept his immortality. The rule he broke after he fell. Why had Holden just gone still?

  Tia paced. “I’ve heard rumors of angels being used like batteries, of kidnappings, scary stuff. I don’t know how much of it’s exaggeration.” What was she leaving out?

  “And...?”

  “You’re technically human. You know how you did it. You’re a loose end he wants cleared up.”

  The information sucked the air from Izzy’s lungs. Did heaven—Gabriel—want him dead? Izzy had never been on the best terms with the original, but this on top of everything else... And people kidnapping angels? Izzy could barely wrap his head around it.

  “I have to go,” Tia said abruptly. “Stay here, pretty please, and stay safe. You can have anything in the fridge. I’ll bring you the rest of the books you asked for.”

  Izzy wanted to stop her, to drag as many answers out of her as possible. But regardless of reassurances, she wasn’t going to open up completely around Holden. Izzy would find out the rest later. Right now he was still processing the fact that he was on someone’s hit list.

  He looked at Holden, the one bright spot in all of this mess. At least Izzy could clear some things up for him, even if his own life was muddled.

  “So, what did you do?” Holden interrupted Izzy’s attempt to find a starting point for his thoughts. “This big, vague thing the two of you were talking about.”

  “I merged with a cherub that wasn’t mine.” He knew the answer wouldn’t make any sense, but it was a segue way in to the conversation.

  “Great. My entire life is suddenly clear,” Holden teased. “You’ll give me more information than that, right?”

  Izzy sifted through the stack of books Tia brought, until he found the one he was looking for. A reprint of a fifteenth century scroll from Rome about a man who had been stoned as a heretic, because he claimed he could talk to angels. He slid it across the table.

  “Am I searching for something specific?” Holden asked.

  “Proof you’re not alone.” Izzy raked his fingers through his hair. As much as he loved his books, he hated this feeling of impotence. Of having to sit around and wait while someone kept an eye on him.

  Even though his job back in the day was as a muse, he’d still had power. He could have protected Holden. He could have put up wards. He could have taken Abaddon. There was no question there. He’d done it before.

  And now Izzy was reduced to sitting at someone else’s dining table, waiting to be hunted or fetched.

  He jumped to his feet and paced the length of the room. Nervous energy coursed through him, carried on whispers of the last couple of hours. There was too much to process. Wondering what Holden was keeping from him had suddenly become the least important thing in his universe.

  “When I was three, I told my mother the woman at the grocery store was glowing.” Holden’s quiet voice broke into Izzy’s thoughts and dragged his feet to a halt. “By the time I was seven, I had seen at least five different specialists, including clergymen from different churches. That was about the time I figured out my life was easier if I kept my observations to myself.”

  Izzy turned his attention to Holden, and the pain in his gaze stared back. Holden continued. “When I found your church a little over a year ago, I knew—knew—the moment I walked in the that there was something different about it. There’s a calm I’ve never felt anywhere else.

  “And then there was you, with one of those gorgeous glows, wrapped around a stunning, confident man, who passed zero judgment on people or their beliefs.”

  The compliment warmed Izzy.

  “So tell me, Father Izzy, what are you? What are these friends of yours? What have I been seeing my entire life, and does it make me crazy?”

  Questions Izzy could answer. After the day they’d had, he owed Holden that much.

  Izzy explained to him what cherubs were. How falling worked, and that it wasn’t always because an angel broke the rules. That in Izzy’s case, it had been a choice. And that just a short while ago, Ariel had ripped his immortality from him, before she destroyed parts of the city.

  He left out details about who Ubiquity was. No reason to spill it all.

  “Wow.” Awe lined Holden’s voice. “Just. Wow. What kind of an angel were you?”

  Such a simple question in the grand scheme of things, it almost made Izzy laugh in relief. “I was a muse; an angel of music.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” Holden kissed him. His lips lingered on Izzy’s, stealing some of the uneasiness and flooding him with heat. Izzy let out a tiny exhale when he pulled away.

  His grin reminded Izzy of a hungry wolf. “What’s it going to take for you to convince your demon friend to let you stay with me tonight? You can’t sleep here,” Holden said.

  “I hope you gentlemen are decent.” Ronnie’s familiar voice carried through the door, interrupting the thought.

  Chapter Seven

  Ronnie drummed her fingers against her leg, willing the guy behind the counter to prep her order faster. Normally, the scents of onions, peppers, and steak were almost an aphrodisiac. Anything yummy was a mild turn-on. Tonight, they made her gut churn. Or that was anxiety over not knowing why Izzy was attacked or if the lightning was aimed at him.

  “Order up.” The guy in the white apron chimed a bell on the counter.

  She snatched the bag from his hand so hard, something tore. A quick glance told her nothing would fall out before she reached her destination. The cook raised his brows. “Sorry,” she spit out, before she rushed out the front door and phased back to Tia’s apartment.

  Why did she let Lucifer talk her into keeping secrets from Izzy? She wanted to save Izzy the heartbreak, and instead she made a stupid call by not telling him about her suspicions. For all she knew, Holden was a normal guy, aside from the most-likely-a-prophet thing.

  Tia sat on the landing, knees pulled up to her chest and a stack of books beside her.

  Ronnie frowned. “Why are you out here?”

  “I went to fetch these,” Tia nodded at the books, “and when I got back they were talking, and I didn’t want to interrupt, and the staring is really creepy.”

  Ronnie hated that Tia was going through all of this. “I know. I’ve got it from here.” She handed Tia a convenience-store bag with a pint of ice cream. “I got you a sandwich too. Thank you so much for doing this.”

  “It wasn’t a problem. You’re practically family, after all. ” Tia stepped out of the way.

  Family was kind of a messed-up concept when it came to heaven and hell, but Ronnie appreciated the sentiment coming f
rom someone who’d been human once-upon-a-time. She knocked on the apartment door and called, “I hope you gentlemen are decent,” before pushing inside, Tia on her heel.

  Relief swept aside a portion of her angst when she saw Izzy, a bruise glaring and purple on his face, but sitting up and looking coherent. She crossed the room, dropped dinner on the table, and hugged him tight. “I’m glad you’re all right.”

  He returned the hug. “All right is a relative term, but all things considered, I’m okay.”

  She stepped back and met Holden’s gaze. He leaned against the kitchen counter, mouth drawn in a thin line. Ronnie forced a smile. “Then, considering Holden saw everything, is everyone up to date on what everyone else is?”

  Izzy pinched the bride of his nose. “How long have you known about him?”

  “I didn’t know. I had a feeling.” This was the worst part about lies. The truth always came out somehow. Why did Ronnie think she could hide this?

  “You couldn’t clue me in?”

  Ronnie wanted to spill everything—hers and Lucifer’s suspicions, why she kept quiet. While she felt bad for lying to Izzy, she didn’t trust Holden any more than twenty-four hours ago. She had the same gift for feeling emotion as any angel, but the hostility and fear he radiated could simply be because he didn’t trust so many people around him glowing. The best she could give Izzy was a grimace. “Can we talk? Alone?”

  “No.” Holden stepped forward.

  Izzy held up a hand. “It’s okay. Give me ten minutes?”

  Holden clenched his fist. “Fine.”

  Ronnie waited until he and Tia left the room. She felt bad banishing them to the hallway, especially since it was Tia’s apartment, but she didn’t know another way to do this. “I’m sorry about your books. Let me fix the damage Tia did?” She’d draw the water from the pages of his tomes instead of from the air around her.