“You are a man of many hidden talents,” I laughed. I shouldn’t have been this surprised. Blue did everything with care and precision, from ordering food to completing a hit. Everything was perfect, or it didn’t happen. Now I wondered if that was a leftover from his childhood.
I ran a hand over his blonde head, and down his spine. I stepped into his arms, pressing my head against his bare chest, appreciating the scratch of his chest hair against my cheek. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pressed me close, and we stood there for a moment, taking refuge in each other.
Eventually, I pulled back, but entwined my fingers in his. “Do you, uh, need a shirt?”
I chanted no, no, no in my head in a vain attempt to sway him with my Jedi mind tricks. I must have been a little more obvious than I thought, because he just laughed and grabbed a shirt off the floor. I think it was Gusion’s.
“I’m not meeting the Devil in your living room with my nipples out,” he grumbled, and I laughed.
“Does it help that they are very nice nipples?”
He shook his head at me, but his smile was radiant. He dropped the shirt back in the hamper.
When people asked me what kind of guy I would end up with, I would have said someone like Rella’s best friend Charlie, but definitely not Charlie himself. He was well and truly Rella’s from the day she grew boobs. But someone like him; charming, easygoing, loyal to a fault.
Somehow, I’d ended up with a harem of brooding alpha males, where each smile was like getting flowers and chocolates on your birthday.
When I got to the living room, there wasn’t just Ace and Luc sitting on my sofa. Rella was there too, flanked by her Gargoyles like always. She looked more solid than the last time I'd seen her.
My lower lip trembled, and I sucked it between my teeth. I could be brave in front of anyone but Rella. Tears rolled down my cheeks and the terror that I was going to die roared back to the surface. She was beside me in a flash, wrapping her arms around me like she was my only anchor in the world.
“Hey now, it’s okay. I’m here, I’ve got you.” She brushed my hair from my face. “Don’t cry, you’ll make your makeup run.”
I blinked rapidly, and whispered, “Blue did it for me.”
Rella’s eyebrows almost touched her hairline. “Blue Halloran. Hitman, mob enforcer, currently half naked in front of the Devil, did your makeup for you?” she murmured in a low voice.
Her incredulity must have mirrored mine. I took a deep, steadying breath. I looked around her shoulder at the huge mountains she called mates. Romanus looked stoic, as always, his disconcerting eyes taking my measure. There was more sympathy in Rouen’s, and he gave me a wink and grin. I smiled back, and stepped away.
That's when I noticed the other person in the room. Well, the other two, because they were on opposite sides of the room, just about as far as you could get from another person in my apartment. On one side was my dad, Lux, leaning against my breakfast bar. His sword was strapped to his back, which was never a good sign.
The other was Azriel, standing by the windows. He looked incredibly uncomfortable, and I wasn’t sure why he was here, but it would have taken a lot of balls to come into a small space where 70% of the people currently inhabiting it hated you with a passion. I gave him a private smile, hopefully letting him know I was glad he was here, even if everyone else in the room wanted to rip off his wings and beat him to death with them.
“Was there a party I forgot about?” I said, trying to lighten the atmosphere of the room. Lux strode over and pulled me into a hug.
“There was a party. A damn search party. This needs to stop, baby girl.”
Lux and Rella were very alike. They both made you feel as if everything would be okay now. They were fixers.
“Sorry Dad. Is Mom a mess?”
“We didn’t tell her,” he mumbled.
I reared back, looking between him and Ace. “What?”
“She was so stressed from your first abduction, and then Estrella’s death, that I was worried about her health. Her heart still isn’t a hundred percent, you know that. So Ace convinced her you were shacked up somewhere with Memphis and Gus, getting over your grief.”
I winced. I could see why they did it, and in their positions I probably would have done the same thing. But boy, if Mom ever found out, they were going to be drawn and quartered. I would not want to be them.
I nodded, mock zipping my lips. I’d tell her if she ever asked, but I wouldn’t go running and telling tales.
“So you are just here to see that I’m okay?”
He shook his head, stepping back so I could take in all their solemn faces. He looked straight at Azriel when he said, “I’m here to help you kill an angel.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Ace laughed, and took a step closer to Lux, in solidarity or to hold him back if he actually made a lunge for the Angel of Death, I wasn’t 100% sure. I assumed they didn’t mean Azriel, and moved toward the coffee pot in the kitchen.
If we were going to talk about Archangelcide — it didn’t even have a word because it was such a stupid and dangerous proposition — then I needed to be caffeinated. Maybe I’d make it an Irish coffee and attempt to kill those few remaining brain cells that were screaming that even contemplating it was a bad idea. I picked up a pair of sunglasses from the bowl on my breakfast bar. The collective angelic auras in the room were giving me a headache.
Rella sighed heavily, her aura non-existent. It was like a stab in the chest every time I noticed. I turned to her, sipping my coffee. She looked longingly at my cup. “Luc and Ace only have instant. It really is hell down there.”
Ace made a rude noise and Luc scowled. Or scowled more. I laughed, glad to have my sister back, even for a moment.
I went over and sat on the couch beside Blue. Memphis and Gus stood like sentinels at either side of my back.
“Will you two sit? Rella already brought the Gargoyles, we don’t need anymore fierce statues in the room,” I teased, and one of the aforementioned Gargoyles let out a low rumble, even though Rella barked out a laugh that I knew as well as my own. It was probably Romanus; he looked scarier. Gus sat down, but Memphis continued to stand at my back.
“So what do you propose, we walk up to Uriel and say, ‘hold still while Ace attempts to dismember you?’ Because I can’t see that working,” Rella said as she just hovered in the same spot with eerie stillness. I mean, I hugged her before, felt the warmth of her body, the physicality of her flesh and blood, but she no longer seemed alive. Her chest no longer moved because she didn’t breathe, she didn’t even blink unless it was out of habit.
“I will call him out. We will battle in the method of old,” Luc said, tilting his head to either side like a prize fighter. He was in peak condition, but then he was immortal, a prime specimen of what perfection could have been.
But so was Uriel.
“Could you take him? Because Uriel is a dick, but you almost killed my wife reuniting yourself and your consort, and I don’t want that heartache to be in vain,” Lux added. My dad had serious brass ones. But he and Lucifer had a long history.
“Lucifer could not. The battle would be bloody, but without Michael’s sword, it would just be an eternal battle,” Azriel piped up in the corner. Maybe he had brass balls too, but he was more likely to get them lopped off. Lucifer's dark eyes slid to him in a way that wasn’t at all human, but Azriel went on. “I’m not doubting your prowess, Lucifer Morningstar.” His tone definitely implied otherwise. “But you are both Archangels, and Uriel has nothing to lose. And you have everything to lose. Your life is riddled with weaknesses.” He looked at Ace, and then over to me.
Lucifer stepped toward the angel. I wondered if angel entrails would come out of my rug? I stood and hurried over to where Azriel was standing. I somewhat stupidly put myself between them. I was thankful that all the Fallen had their emotions on lock. I would have had a pounding headache otherwise.
“Please, Luc. We all know y
ou are the scariest being to prowl the earth,” I placated uselessly. I placed a hand on his chest, stopping his single-minded stride toward Azriel.
Luc looked down at my hand and then quirked an eyebrow at me. He looked amused. I felt a weird combination of terrified and annoyed. I had no time for this posturing.
“Perhaps the Angel of Death needs a reminder of that fact,” he said in a soft voice that was no less scary.
I shrugged. “Maybe, but not today, yeah?”
Luc dipped his chin. He looked over my head at Azriel. “What are you doing here anyway, Angel?” he taunted. He knew. I had no doubt in my mind that Memphis and Gusion had informed Luc of Azriel’s interest in me. If he hadn’t, he would have plucked the thought from Blue’s head with ease.
“What he did to Hope was outside the rules,” Azriel mumbled.
Lucifer merely tilted his head at the Azriel, whose snowy white wings were hidden for once. He just looked like an average man. A beautiful, perfect, average man. “Hope is outside the rules. You know this.”
They stared at each other, some silent communication borne from eons of familiarity with each other making words obsolete.
“And you are all about the rules, aren’t you Azriel? But you are close, my friend,” Luc whispered quietly, but he didn’t seem gleeful. He looked more concerned. I was getting whiplash from the mood changes in the room. “What do you propose?”
Azriel sucked in a deep breath, but the muscles in his shoulders didn’t relax at all. “We petition Michael.”
I let out a sigh, turning to look up into his brilliant blue eyes. He was so perfect, but only on the outside. Inside he was as messy and complicated as the rest of us. “I’ve tried. He said your Guy hadn’t said to halt Uriel’s organization of immoral assholes. His hands are tied.”
Azriel reached out, his face tense as if he was fighting the action. “That was before he was putting unwilling women in Purgatory.” His fingers were halfway to my face when he let them drop.
Disappointment rushed through me, but I kept my face neutral. “He has been putting unwilling women all sorts of places and they didn’t care; why would Purgatory be any different?” It was a rhetorical question.
I handed my coffee to Luc as a distraction, who surprisingly took it, and then drank the remainder.
“Estrella is correct. Hell only has instant.” His raised eyebrows dared me to protest. Instead I laughed, and threw my arms around my pseudo-parent.
“Thank you for finding me. For giving me hope. I…” I couldn’t describe what hearing Luc’s voice in the darkness felt like. It had been the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard.
He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and hugged me close. I didn’t dare breathe in case I spooked him. Luc didn’t hug back ever. Maybe Ace was right, and I was his pride and joy, though his emotions were locked down tight, so I couldn’t know for sure.
I could hear Rella talking to one of her consorts. “Luckily I’m not the jealous twin, or I’d be worried he loved Hope more.”
Luc stepped back and rolled his eyes. “I do. She is less mouthy.” He shook his head, focusing back on me. “Do what you need to, but it will come to violence. It always does with Uriel.” His tone had the kind of certainty that spoke of future knowledge. I looked at Gusion, wondering what he had seen, and not told me. I had time to uncover his secrets later.
I stepped into Azriel’s space, pressing my body close to his. “Let’s do this.” Azriel’s eyes went wide, his gaze darting between all the people in the room. It was probably a mean gesture on my behalf, but I liked to shock him.
“Do what?” he squeaked, and I couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled over my lips.
“Consummate our relationship, of course. It’s a human custom,” I said straight-faced, and his eyes got impossibly wider.
Ace was laughing so hard at his expression, she was holding her side. I finally took pity on him. “We are going to say hello to Michael, as you suggested,” I clarified, and the relief on his face was hilarious and a tiny bit insulting. “Do you even know where he is?”
Azriel looked offended that I’d even suggested he was anything other than all-knowing, his straight brows lowering until they were slashes across his face. He had nice eyebrows.
He wrapped his arms around my waist, in a completely platonic position of course, and sifted us away. I was prepared for the whirling feeling in my stomach, but perhaps I should have had a bagel first. Your molecules dematerializing and then rematerializing was hell on an empty belly.
We found Michael on a beach, somewhere in the world, I couldn’t say where. He had his plain white linen pants rolled up to the knee, his beautiful pale skin almost the same color as the sand. His shoulder length hair shot through with a few silver streaks that somehow made him look young and dignified rather than old. His face was ageless and kind as he stared at the abandoned beach, toward where the waves were crashing onto the rocks.
As we landed, his head whipped toward us, his brows lowered. All of a sudden, I could see the warrior angel that he was, the enforcer of God’s Will, rather than the benevolent force I seemed to have consigned him to in my mind.
“Your soul is stained, Hope, Child of Acerezeal. What have you done?” He stood, and I noticed the flaming sword strapped to his back. Well, it wasn’t flaming now, but I assumed that was the sword.
I stepped back, and right into the chest of Azriel. “Nothing that wasn’t just, Archangel,” Azriel said, his head bowed low. I did the same.
Michael’s presence was like standing in a lightning storm, right beside a huge divining rod. All the hairs on your body stand up and you can taste the ozone.
He stopped in front of me, and shook his head sadly. “Just or no, it has stained her soul. A stain so black that it could only mean one thing. A thing that should be impossible. You have killed an Angel.”
Uh, maybe I should have told Luc this part before I got behind Azriel’s plan to see Michael. I was so used to being hidden from them, an enigma, an aberration in the world of both humans and angels, that I’d forgotten the true power of Michael.
“If I may interrupt,” Azriel said as he stepped in front of me, putting his body between mine and that of the Archangel’s, although he didn’t posture. He was still completely subservient. Judging by the small smile on Michael’s face, he wasn’t fooling the wily angel anyway. “Dalius was killed in Purgatory.”
Michael gave Azriel a patient look. “I am aware of that, Azriel. I am the Right Hand of God. There is very few things of which I am unaware.” His eyes shifted to me, and an eyebrow quirked.
“His death was at Hope’s hand,” Azriel continued, and this time it was Michael’s brow that knit. Yeah, ponder those ramifications.
“In my defence, he was there to torture a woman. With rats,” I added, as if normal torture wasn’t bad enough.
The weariness on Michael’s face broke my heart. He slumped back down on the rock he had been resting on when we’d arrived, and his shoulders curled in. He was silent, and I wished I could read his emotions.
I missed having everyone’s emotions on tap. Who was the stupid idiot that let that one slip? I wanted to rub his back and tell him that it would all work out in the end, but telling an Archangel that he had to have faith seemed a bit redundant. Instead, I sat down beside him in silent solidarity.
“Uriel’s taint is spreading,” he said to me, or maybe it was to the Big Guy in the Sky, I couldn’t be sure. He didn’t seem to want confirmation or conversation, so I remained silent. He stared out past the horizon, and I wondered what he saw. What was the true extent of his angelic abilities, if Memphis could see your darkest secret, and Gusion could see your past, present and future, and Azriel could steal your very soul from your body, what could the Right Hand really do?
“I trust in the plan,” he said to me, or maybe himself. “I do, but this is wrong. We are protectors, nurturers of the Father’s creations. We aren’t this horror that Uriel has tried to twist ange
lkind into. But my answer is still that same, Hope Jones.”
I let out a long breath through my nose. I hadn’t expected any other answer, despite my support of Azriel’s plan.
Azriel gaped at his mentor. “We must.”
“Are you questioning?” Michael asked lightly. There was no accusation in his voice, just a sad kind of resoluteness. “You are right to question,” he said, looking back at Azriel. “I cannot help.”
And with that, he was gone. I stayed seated on the rock, and tried to see what Michael saw. Tried to trust in the plan. But I wasn’t made to just lie back and let the tide of fate take me where it wanted me to go. I was a Jones. We were fighters. Emotionally, anyway. Rella was the only real fighter.
“Did he just…” Azriel, the angel with all the answers, looked dumbstruck.
The beach was no longer abandoned. I wondered if the tourists all disappeared so Michael could have his moment. A man walked along kicking at the waves, a small dog at his feet, and his hands filled with fishing gear. His smile was so wide I could see it from where I was sitting. I wondered if I would be ever that happy again.
The man walked up over the sand dunes towards me. I looked over my shoulder at Azriel, realizing we weren't too far from the road. We’d have to wait until the fisherman left to sift back out of here. Azriel still had his wings hidden, and we looked like a touristy couple visiting...wherever the hell we were.
“Beautiful day today,” the man yelled as he got closer. He was an average looking guy with a big smile and a torn ‘Jesus is My Homeboy’ t-shirt, which made me laugh. The character on the front of the t-shirt had a huge cheesy grin and his thumbs up, a knowing wink scrunching up one side of his face.
“Beautiful,” I agreed, appreciating the sunny skies, the crashing waves, the small birds that circled the air above us. It was a little slice of paradise. The small dog, which appeared to be a random mix of different dogs mashed into one, from its long hound dog ears to its short stumpy legs, ran in circles around my feet.
I squinted at the guy. Something about his aura seemed off and his face was oddly familiar.
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