In short, he was in trouble. Did Abaddon set him up? He didn’t like thinking that. She was one of the few angels or demons he felt he could trust.
His shields flexed, and then the one surrounding Vine shattered, snapping through Michael with a jolt of pain that reached from his head to his toes, as if his insides split into a million tiny pebbles.
Vine’s smirk grew.
As Ronnie would say, Michael was double fucked.
RONNIE COULDN’T STOP thinking about what Izzy said. It had only been three days since he told her off, and it wasn’t as though they had the kind of friendship where they spoke daily, but she missed him. And Irdu. She saw him daily. Passed him in the halls. Sat in meetings with him.
He gave her brief nods. He was polite. When she asked him to pull her a list of victims from the warehouse explosion, he didn’t question her. It’ll take some time.
She didn’t have time, but she also didn’t have a choice.
They were both busy at work, and he’d been busy outside of office hours. There was no sex. Barely any talking. It was the friendship that she missed most of all. Irdu understood her. And it ached to the core of her soul that there was a rupture in their relationship.
If Michael were here. He’d what? Brush her aside again? She had that already. And why was she even thinking about him?
Because his name popped into her head more frequently, not less, as time passed. Memories of his voice, deep and reassuring, sang in her mind. They mingled with ghosts of his fingers dancing across his skin, his breath caressing, and that he seemed to know the right things to say to make her smile and think.
“You’re not listening, are you?” Samael’s question cut into her mental rambling.
They sat in her office, talking about his latest gripes. “The SEC wants a whole bunch of paperwork and you want to know why you can’t give it to them.”
He raised his brows. “Exactly.”
Because when Lucifer and Gabe created Ubiquity, they didn’t cover their tracks as well as they should’ve. Not the answer Sammy needed to hear. “You give them what they ask for. No more, no less. And you run it all by me first,” she said.
“Since when do you have a say in financial matters?”
“Since now.” She hated the answer but didn’t have a better one. Everything in her experience—recently and in the past—told her giving him all the information was the right way to go, but then Lucifer’s voice echoed in her head. Plausible deniability. If she withheld the details, Samael wouldn’t have to lie to the auditors.
“How’s that working out for you?” he asked.
“What’s that?”
“Throwing your weight around and pretending you believe what you’re telling us. You’re not Gabriel; everyone knows it. You’ll get a lot further if you stop trying to be.” The harsh words caught her off-guard. “I’m sorry. That was out of line.”
Everyone knew what had happened with Gabe. It was hard to hide the truth about something like a rampaging angel, or the return of Metatron. What she didn’t understand was why people were still loyal to Gabe. Regardless of their reasons, the last thing she tried—or wanted to be—was him. “Thanks for the advice.” She let the sarcasm leak into her words. “Nothing goes to the SEC without my approval, and you don’t offer anything they don’t ask for.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She kept her posture straight and her gaze directed forward as she strode out of his office. There was no reason to let the words get to her, but they burrowed deep inside and gnawed at her gut. Gabe tried to kill her. Twice. He spent his time subverting the structure. Lying for his own gain. Manipulating the system to get what he wanted. She had no desire to imitate him. She just wanted to be respected in her new position, and recognized for the memories she held. She was Metatron, damn it.
“Do you have a minute?” Tia called from her cubicle.
That was another thing Ronnie liked about Tia. It didn’t matter they both started at the same place—demons working the cherub queue. Tia never questioned Ronnie’s promotion or responsibility. “Sure.” She strode to Tia’s desk.
Tia gave her a sympathetic glance. “He misses you,” she said softly.
A lump rose in Ronnie’s throat at the words. “Thanks. I wish he’d tell me himself.”
“Give him a little more time.” Tia turned back to her computer. “I’m getting hits you’re going to want to see,” she said at normal volume.
She’d come up with a series of automated searches and algorithms that looked in videos for keywords and image patterns similar to those of her handiwork in Boston. Ronnie had no idea how she programmed it so quickly. It was both a relief and disconcerting that, in the last two days, Tia’s code had captured a tornado touching down in a city where it shouldn’t be possible, and a firestorm wiping out a single auto shop in the middle of nowhere.
Two wasn’t a lot, except combined with the video of Tia’s wave, it was three more than in the previous decades of U-View. Sure, there was always something out there, but these were big. Unnatural. Damning.
And Tia had another one on her screen now. Ronnie’s rattled thoughts crashed in on each other. This one was different. The destruction hadn’t started yet. Three individuals stared each other down.
“Why did your filters pull this?” Ronnie asked.
“It has the right keywords.”
Someone wanted this discovered quickly. Ronnie recognized the angel with the wings. Cassiel was one of the retrieval analysts who topped the capture lists early on and had been gone before Ronnie’s first month at Ubiquity was up. Lightning sparked over her skin, which meant it was visible to the naked eye. A camera wouldn’t pick up any auras. Ronnie wasn’t sure she was grateful for that.
She knew Vine, too, from her time as Metatron. A close friend back in the day, thousands of years ago.
It was the third person who screwed with her head the most. Michael. Her stomach dropped into her shoes, not only at seeing him again, but that he appeared to be the odd man out. None of the three moved, beyond slight twitches. The most active thing onscreen was the power dancing around Cassiel.
Ronnie forced her voice to work. “How long ago was this was taken?”
“This is streaming live. And it’s everywhere.”
A chill swept over Ronnie when the camera panned out and the Kremlin swam into focus. Michael, Vine, and Cassiel were in the middle of what should be a crowded city. No one else was on screen. That meant whoever was holding the camera was inside the force keeping the people out. Michael shouldn’t be in any danger. He had more power than Vine and Cassiel. Why wasn’t he doing something? An irrational fear crept over her. He couldn’t be destroyed or anything like that, so where did this concern come from? “Can you shut the feed down?”
“Working on it. It’s hitting new sites faster than I can block it, but I’m tracing and canceling as quickly as I can.”
That was something. And if Ronnie found the source, she could stop it from spreading. “Keep on it. Here. From your desk. Don’t go anywhere.”
Less than a second later, she was across the globe. She stood alongside her colleagues, on a length of sidewalk that should have been cluttered with people, but only held four others. She didn’t recognize the person with the camera. She flicked her fingers in his direction, and the device exploded in his hand, shards of plastic and glass clattering everywhere. He jerked back in surprise, and the movement gave her enough time to grab his wrist, and banish him to hell.
The other agents didn’t give her more than a glance. She was surprised they could see anything, with the bright glows all of them radiated and the heavy tension weighing down the air.
Michael’s sigh bothered her more than any of it. “I’ve got this,” he said.
He’d cut ties with her for months—going so far as to ensure she didn’t know where he was or what he was up to—under the premise he didn’t want to fall in love. And that was the first thing out of his mouth? Bitterness and hurt ti
nged the joy of seeing him again.
They’d talk later about gratitude. Or not. If he was so under-joyed to see her, she’d put a stop to this and let him go back to whatever the fuck it was he did. “Obviously.” Convincing herself his greeting didn’t sting would take more time.
Cassiel laughed—a sharp, piercing sound that reminded Ronnie too much of Ariel, and sank into her veins like concrete. “Oh look. The impostor.” Taunting filled Cassiel’s words.
Irritation, spurred by days of being unable to act, spilled through Ronnie and materialized as twin blades in her hands—one long and curved, and the other a dagger. Her wings spread from her back, and without looking she knew they were glorious and black, devouring the light that touched them. The ground rumbled under her feet.
“I am not an impostor.”
Chapter Thirteen
Michael knew Ronnie was a blend of two beings. The original angel, Metatron—whom he loved completely, millennia ago—and a demon who served Lucifer for centuries before ever acquiring a physical form. Last time he saw her, she was struggling to come to terms with being both.
Now, she looked comfortable with it. Red and gold flowed around her like liquid, and her presence singed the air with the scent of burnt sugar and champagne. She was stunning. A Valkyrie wrapped in glory and grace. He wanted to embrace her, fight by her side, and whisk them both away to someplace they could spend decades getting reacquainted.
And she was about to bring this event crumbling down in a disaster of epic damage. If she distracted him and he dropped his shields, Vine or Cassiel would retaliate. If she took one of them on without full understanding of the situation, odds were someone would destroy the landscape.
“Stand down.” He spoke through clenched teeth, his resources pushed past their limits even before she arrived. “I have this under control.”
“Oh yeah. I see that.” She ducked under a fist-sized fireball thrown by Vine. It hit the side of a building and sent chunks of rock and mortar spraying everywhere. “No, wait. I don’t buy it for a second.”
Michael couldn’t spare more energy to stop Vine. Fragments of brick clattered to the ground around them. At least it was physical, so it didn’t hurt. Ronnie’s words, her posture, the way she ducked and dove and exchanged swipes with Vine—this wasn’t the same agent he remembered from either time in his life. She was far more confident. And that didn’t stop the surge inside of wanting to protect her. Putting time and distance between them hadn’t done anything to diminish his desire for her. “How did you know we were here?”
“You’re trending.” She twisted and spun, catching most of Vine’s projectiles with her blades. A swipe with her right arm, and she destroyed another ball of flame with the longer sword. A block with her dagger hand, and the lightning he summoned faded to nothing. Her moves were complicated. Too showy. And outside the realm of Metatron’s knowledge. She’d been taking lessons. “Duck, by the way.”
He was already twisting aside, away from Cassiel. He pulled back the restraints that held her, to grab her arm. This would be a risk, but with Ronnie here, he could take it. He paused. Ronnie was making him hesitate to fulfill his objective. What would she say if she knew he was executing their people, regardless of his reasons?
Cassiel’s power surged through Michael, and she broke his grip before he could act. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t let me play,” she said.
“I won’t.” He bound her again. He had more energy to devote to her with Ronnie distracting Vine, and even with a cherub, she wasn’t as powerful as he was. Her aura flickered and danced in protest. “What do you mean, trending?” he asked Ronnie.
Vine rolled when Ronnie dove at him with her sword extended. As if expecting the dodge, she whirled and brought her secondary weapon up for the follow-through. He didn’t spin back to face her. Instead, he planted a palm on the ground. Electricity—both physical and ethereal—crackled over his skin and along concrete, rumbling through the sidewalk and making the other three stumble.
Fear for Ronnie’s safety and instinct clenched in Michael’s chest, and he nudged out enough air to keep her from falling before he realized he was doing it. It meant letting Cassiel go again.
A wash of lightning mixed with ether slammed into his back.
He snarled at himself when he realized his help threw Ronnie off balance.
“Old man doesn’t have any concept of how this world works,” Cassiel taunted.
“Have some respect for your superiors, you stupid twat.” Vine glared at Cassiel, then lunged at an off-kilter Ronnie, who twisted and rolled at the last minute. She landed on her back, blocking him with her right arm and aiming the left at his gut. He blinked out of sight before she could connect, and reappeared several feet back.
“A little help here?” Irritation underlined Ronnie’s words. “Or are you a spectator today?”
She was right; the fight was taking too long. With each new blast, more of the cityscape was destroyed, leaving gaping wounds in the street and sidewalk, and rending the buildings within his shields near collapse. This was what Michael wanted to avoid, but he wouldn’t lose his temper. He’d made a miscalculation, trying to hold the other agents’ forces, rather than eliminating the threats quickly. He pulled all his power back to him and forced it through his limbs and body.
“I don’t think she’s an impostor. The Great and Mighty Michael doesn’t let just anyone throw him off his game.” Vine lobbed another fireball at Ronnie. Except it flew wide and took out half a shack a block away. He’d missed on purpose.
Michael reached for Cassiel, but she cast out an invisible wave that sent him stumbling back. “I’m not convinced either of them is that great.” Cassiel sounded bored. “We’re both still here.” She fired at Michael again, this time a vibrant stream of electric blue that singed the air and left the scent of ozone in its wake.
Michael copied the tactic he’d witnessed, blinking out of sight, and reappearing next to her.
“Holy fuck. Do you ever stop talking?” Vine shouted. He vanished and reappeared at the same time, beating Michael to the target. Vine grasped Cassiel by the throat, and an array of lights passed between them. Her screams lasted less than a second as he absorbed her cherub, and she was gone. He turned to Michael. “I really hoped you’d kill her sooner. She never fucking shut up.”
Michael stepped back, his concern multiplying threefold. Why had Vine done that? Taken out an ally without a second thought?
Vine flickered from view, and then reappeared a few feet away. The non-pattern continued, with Vine vanishing and reappearing in a new spot with every blink, making him impossible to track. Each time he phased into sight, the glow around him was brighter. He was building up a reserve of strength for something. He’d taken Cassiel’s cherub and drawn it into himself.
“We have to stop him,” Michael said.
Ronnie growled. “No shit, Sherlock.” Her scowl melted to a wicked smile that sent ice running through him. “Gotcha.”
No she didn’t. Vine blinked into sight and back out. Whatever he was summoning would take everything down. Michael could throw up another shield to minimize damage—and risk drawing this out longer—or gather enough power to exorcise the ancient demon, but not both.
Vine reappeared, a scream tearing from him that threatened Michael’s eardrums even in a quasi-mortal form. Vine stayed tangible for more than a heartbeat, and Ronnie phased in front of him.
She rested a hand on his cheek. “And now she’s talking in your head, isn’t she?” An odd combination of taunting and sympathy filled her words. “Your last steal didn’t have much of a personality, did it? God. This must suck for you.”
Whatever he pulled from Cassiel would think and sound like her, if she’d shared a head with it for any amount of time. If he thought she talked too much face to face, having her voice in his head must be wreaking havoc on his sanity.
Similar to Vine touching Cassiel, power flowed between him and Ronnie, but it left her again i
n a blink. Despite it only lasting a second, Michael saw she didn’t take all of Vine. Only what didn’t belong to him. And then Vine was gone. Vanished into thin air.
The lightshow blinked away from Ronnie, and she shook her head with a shudder. “And I thought one voice was bad.” When she looked up again, her eyes were clear and narrowed, her gaze focused on Michael. “Was that so hard? Maybe Cassiel had a point. You are slipping.”
“What did you do?” he asked. With the immediate threat gone, he was free to focus on her. How fierce she looked with her hair windblown. How tempting and delicious the anger was that flashed in her eyes.
She rolled her neck, and her body solidified, becoming mortal again. “I sent him home. What was I supposed to do? Buy him coffee?”
Definitely not the same demon he left all those months ago. The adrenaline racing through him didn’t ebb. It focused into a narrow point of desire, and he struggled to quench it. “As in, to his apartment?”
Now he had more time to observe and process, he realized she wore a pinstriped jacket and matching slacks. She shed the coat, which left her in a shimmery camisole, and flexed her shoulder blades. Didn’t matter which incarnation she was, she hated having her back covered. An agent’s wings were ethereal, but she swore she could feel them suffocating. The familiarity, combined with these new aspects of her, amplified his want. Did she taste like the burnt sugar of her aura? Would the ferocity follow her into the bedroom?
“As in, to hell.” She brushed the dust from her pants.
“You can do that?” he asked.
“Can’t you?” She uprighted a chair and dropped into it. Around them, people milled back in. The screaming started and the phones came out when they realized how much had been damaged.
“Not to hell. Only to heaven.” It was the way the power flowed. He was an angel. He could take himself to hell, but not send others there. “We need to have this conversation somewhere else.” He’d also like the chance to talk about other things. Despite his resolve to keep his distance, having her here made it difficult to watch her leave.
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