by Amy Sumida
I knew the basics of Angels; who they are, where they came from, that sort of thing. I even knew that the fallen angel thing was a myth. Demons are another race entirely; the Christian variety had once made a pact with the Angels to get what they wanted out of the human race, but they were not—and never had been—Angels. Still, knowing facts about a race and actually knowing the people were two different things. I had never conversed with an angel, so I listened carefully to what Declan had to say. I needed every advantage I could get when I spoke with them.
“Do you think I'll have to speak to their leader?” I asked.
“Doubtful,” Declan said. “He's basically a businessman; he accepts their percentage of tithes from the churches and distributes them to the Host. I would imagine he'd be too busy to take meetings with secular visitors.”
Gods—in general—established themselves as gods with grand displays of magic to the human population, so that they could accumulate worshipers who would give them offerings. Some gods asked for blood sacrifice because they could use the life energy within the blood in a similar way to Blooders; for life extension and healing. Exhibit A: the Aaruns—both Maya and Egyptian. But most gods were good on both of those fronts; they just wanted to be adored and be given presents. They wanted to be taken care of like a princess. Well, don't we all.
As human civilization progressed, only the gods who were really good at marketing continued to flourish. Those geniuses established lasting relationships with their followers and remained in positions of power even though they stopped showing their faces in public. The human higher-ups in their religious orders knew that the gods were real, and those were the ones who passed on the tributes these days. The Angels, in particular, had done a bang-up job of hanging onto their humans and were said to receive the biggest tithes in the world. They were the wealthiest race of Beneathers. Oh, and they are all Angels; even the top dog. Their race is from the planet Angelus, in the Eden Realm.
“A businessman,” I mused. “We can use that.”
“How so?” Declan asked.
“You need to know what a person wants if you're going to successfully bargain with them,” Banning said with a smile.
“And we know they like their money,” I added. “War may be good for the economy, but it won't help their bottom line if the only people dying are those who pay angelic tithes.”
“Make them think that the Maya will go after Catholics, Christians, and Jews first.” Declan nodded. “That might work.”
“Hey, Cerberus says he's going to call an angel he knows who runs a bar for Beneathers,” Gage said as he rejoined us.
“Cerberus doesn't know any angels who run Beneather bars. Wait... did he mention the name of the bar?” I asked.
“Excommunicated. I gotta hand it to the guy; that's hilarious,” Gage said with a chuckle. “The angel's name is—”
“Raphael!” I growled. “That son of a bitch told me he was a loup!”
The men narrowed their eyes at me.
“When did he tell you that, Elaria?” Torin asked casually. “Is he a friend of yours?”
“Um.” I cleared my throat. “We dated.”
“You dated an angel?” Gage asked with surprise.
“Evidently,” I muttered. “And I'm going to kick his angelic ass for not telling me.”
I pulled out my traveling stone.
“What are you doing?” Declan asked.
“I'm going to Excommunicated,” I said and then rolled my eyes. “That name makes so much more sense now. I always figured it was a werewolf thing.”
“But Cerberus is already on his way to speak to Raphael,” Gage pointed out.
I just stared at him.
“Okay.” Gage held up his hands. “Do you want your current boyfriends to go with you to confront your ex-boyfriend about his race?”
I grimaced and then sighed. “Yeah; I see your point. But Declan got to confront Isis.”
“Before you killed her,” Declan said.
“Yeah, and she didn't even remember him,” Gage smirked. “So, I don't think that counts.”
“Thank you, Gagerian,” Declan said dryly.
“Anytime,” Gage said.
“Come on, that isn't fair,” Banning said.
“Thank you, Banning,” Declan said with more warmth.
“She remembered his finger,” Banning added.
Declan sighed deeply while the men laughed.
“You know what? You guys stay here; I need to talk to Raph alone anyway.” I used my traveling stone to go to Excommunicated before any of them could stop me.
Yeah; it was shitty. Especially since they didn't know where Excommunicated was and couldn't follow me. But I was pissed; that kind of angry you get that makes your body tremble and waves of heat shoot down your arms. I wanted my pound of angel flesh. It's not like I was going to cheat on my consorts; this was about someone doing me wrong. They'd get over it.
I stepped out of the Veil and into a dark room. It was Raphael's office; the only place where I knew for certain that there wouldn't be a lot of people milling about. The place was just as I remembered it; peeling green wallpaper for the 1920s, cloudy halogens full of insect carcasses, cluttered desk, and a worn leather chair patched with duct tape. You'd think the man would redecorate after forty years.; at least get a new chair or clean that damn light fixture. But Raph didn't care much about his office, and things he didn't care for got neglected. Boy, did I know that.
I was about to storm out to confront Raphael when I saw the photograph.
There, across from his desk, hanging in a place of prominence, was a picture of him and me. I froze and stared at it. He was in his old leather jacket; dark hair curling down to his collar in a 70s style and a day's worth of stubble on his chin. He looked rugged and handsome in the most careless way. By comparison, I looked fragile and sweet; tucked between his knees and encircled by his arms. I was wearing a pink cotton dress and a flower in my hair.
It hit me like a fist in the sternum. In Beneather calculations, my relationship with Raphael hadn't been that long ago. It had been forty years since I had walked out on him. That's the blink of an eye to an immortal, but I had still expected him to have moved on. Seeing my face there—blissfully happy—made me remember what we had in a better light. I briefly forgot about the screaming arguments and the times when he'd stumble home so drunk that he'd barely make it up the stairs. Instead, I remembered the long nights we'd spent making love; how we'd hang our heads out the window of his apartment because his A/C wasn't strong enough to cool us down afterward—Van Morrison or The Doors playing on the stereo. I remembered the way he'd stare at me and just smile softly. Then he'd say,
“I've never seen anything so beautiful as you,” Raphael's rough voice came from the doorway.
I jerked around to see Raphael standing there. He'd always been good at sneaking up on me. I had thought that was an aspect of his wolf.
“Is that why you drank so much?” I asked. “Because you're a damn angel and you didn't like your race?”
“That and other things,” he admitted.
“You son of a bitch!” I snarled; all of the fond memories vanishing. “Why did you tell me you were a loup?”
“The first time we met, you were so perfect that I panicked; I didn't want you to think badly of me.” Raphael shrugged. “I kept meaning to come clean, but something would always stop me. My race; they're a bunch of fucked-up assholes. I didn't want you involved with them. I just couldn't tell you, El.”
“I told you everything about me,” I stomped over to him and poked him in his solid chest with my pointer finger. “I introduced you to my family.”
“There isn't anything shameful about what you are,” he countered.
“Why is being an angel shameful?”
“We're a bunch of frauds with wings,” Raphael huffed. “We promise humans the world and then leave them high and dry when it counts. Do you know how many times I've been chastised for helping humans wi
thout Seraphim approval? Approval! I need written consent to save a child from harm or cure an ailing man who has tithed to us his entire life. What the fuck are we taking their money for if we can't help them? We're intergalactic snake oil salesmen; a bunch of charlatans with wings.”
“So, you hid it, and you drank away your guilt,” I concluded.
Raphael's full lips thinned as he pressed them together in a grimace. “I've regretted keeping it from you every day for the last forty years.”
“Well, maybe you can make it up to me now,” I said softly.
“Yeah; Cer is outside.” Raph ran a hand nervously through his short hair. “He told me what you want.”
“And?”
“And I'll do it; I'll get you in,” he said grimly. “I owe you that much at least.”
“Why do you sound like you're planning a funeral?”
“They're not going to be nice to you, El,” he warned. “Expect arrogance, aloofness, and basic assholier-than-thou behavior. You're going to want to punch their faces and their balls. And I don't know if I can protect you from the whole Angelic Host if you start breaking angel balls. You know?”
I laughed and glanced at the photo of me. I looked so innocent there, but I was so not. I had been short-tempered and violent; quick to throw punches and songs. Forty years may not be long in an immortal's life, but it had been long enough for me to mellow.
“I can control my temper now,” I said.
Raphael just lifted his eyebrows.
“I can,” I insisted with a smile. “I didn't knock you on your ass when you first walked in, did I?”
Raphael frowned and considered this. “That's a good point; the girl I used to know would have punched first and asked questions later.”
“It's good to see you, Raph,” I whispered.
Raphael's dark eyes softened as he smiled. “Even if you had knocked me on my ass; I'd still have been happy to see you too, El. I'm glad Cerberus brought you to me.”
Chapter Forty
Cerberus was sitting at the empty bar having a drink when we joined him. It was 2 PM and Excommunicated was more of a nightclub than a bar; the place would be packed by 9, but at the moment, it was dead... just like Cerberus.
I stalked up to my best friend with murder in my eyes. Cerberus had started off smiling when he first saw us, but then he saw my expression, and by the time I stood in front of him, he was swallowing nervously and easing off his bar stool.
“Now, El”—Cer held up his hands—“I know what you're going to say, and it's not my fault.”
“You knew what he was and you never told me!” I growled as I pointed back at Raphael.
“Help me out here,” Cerberus said to Raph.
Raphael chuckled and headed behind the bar; his safe zone. “Hell no; I just got back in her good graces. You're on your own, buddy.”
“Fucking angels,” Cerberus huffed. “See what I mean?” He looked at me. “They're dicks.”
“You're the dick right now, dog breath,” I growled. “I'm your best friend; you should have told me what I was getting into.”
“Raph made me promise on the fire of Hades, El! I swore a sacred oath,”Cer whined.
“What about the sacred oath of best-friendship?” I crossed my arms.
“Come on, Ellie-girl,” Cerberus pleaded, “you forgave Raphael. Can't you forgive your best pal? I'm sorry I didn't tell you.”
I grimaced and sat on the bar stool beside Cerberus.
“You're still a dick,” I muttered. “You have no idea what I just went through, and it's indirectly the fault of the Angelic Host. I didn't need this shit on top of it.”
“Actually, I do; Gage told me,” Cerberus said as his face shifted. “And I'm pissed at you for not telling me yourself. I want in on this shit from here out.”
Right; I forgot about the Gage conversation.
“What happened?” Raphael went serious. “Who do I have to slaughter slowly?”
“Dude, I told you; she's got four men now,” Cerberus said gently. “Four! She doesn't need you killin' anyone for her.”
“Cerberus, Elaria never needed me to protect her,” Raphael said. “It's not about her needs; it's about mine.” He looked back at me. “Because if someone hurt you, I need to hurt them back.”
A shiver fluttered over my belly, and I immediately felt guilty. I had told myself that I was storming down here to have it out with Raphael, but now that the fight was over, this was starting to feel like a betrayal. This wasn't like the time I'd run into Calex. I had loved Calex, but I'd also known that things could never work out between us. He wanted a wife to stay home and raise little dragon babies, and I didn't want to be that. Plus, Cal had been my first love; over two-hundred years ago. I'd had a long time to get over him.
With Raphael, I'd left because of his behavior. If I hadn't, I might have married him; I had loved him that much. And now his behavior had been explained and forgiven. The obstacle to our relationship had just been removed, but now there were four more—much larger and far more powerful—obstacles. Despite how much I loved my consorts, I couldn't help the feelings for Raphael that rose up from the depths I'd drowned them in. Raphael's romantic declaration and the way that he was looking at me wasn't helping either.
“I think I'd better go get my guys,” I murmured. “I told them I came here to kick some angel ass, and now that things are settled, I should probably include them in this. They'll be going with us to speak to the Host.”
“Hey.” Raphael cocked his head as he shook it; a move that was so familiar, it hurt my heart. “I get it, El. You don't have to stick your boyfriends between us as a buffer. I won't try anything, but I'm not going to pretend that I don't still love you. Or that I'm not overjoyed to have you standing in front of me. You know everything now, so I don't have to lie anymore. Bring them here, and they'll hear the truth too, baby.”
“Oh, now you want to tell the truth?” I huffed as Cerberus chuckled. “Cer is right; you are a dick.”
Raphael gave me a one-sided shrug to go with his lopsided grin. “Better late than never.”
“Not necessarily,” I muttered but let it go because I needed something from him. “If you could arrange that meeting while I'm gone, I'd appreciate it. I'll be back in a few.”
“I'll fill him in on the sitch with the Maya while you're gone,” Cerberus offered.
“I'll be waiting,” Raphael said with a smirk.
“And get rid of that smirk, while you're at it,” I added. “You look like an idiot.”
“Wait”—Raphael turned toward Cerberus as my traveling stone pulled me through the Veil—“did you say 'Maya?'”
I could still smell Raphael when I reformed in Kyanite; dark chocolate and fresh air. The latter made sense now; a lot of things about Raphael were beginning to. As I stared at my lovers' furious faces, Raph's odd behavior and quirks started to click into place. Why Raph would have to take “work trips” that would leave him looking worn and world-weary. Why he would mutter in his sleep about altars and egos. And why—very rarely—I'd see a glimmer around his shoulders.
Wings. Huh. I kinda wanted to see that.
“Elaria?” Torin growled. “Are you all right?”
“Huh?” I looked up at the men and realized that my gaze and attention had drifted away.
This was not good.
“Yeah; I'm okay,” I said. “I'm sorry I took off like that; it was childish and rude.”
“Well, that just takes the steam out of my argument,” Declan huffed.
“I came back to take you over with me,” I said. “Raphael's bar is in LA. Cer is there, and Raph said he'd arrange a meeting with the Host for us.”
“What happened with the angel?” Gage asked; his hazel eyes concerned.
“I learned a few things about him,” I said. “We talked it through.”
“You talked through his lying to you?” Banning asked.
“He was ashamed of being an angel,” I explained. “He's pretty bitte
r about the Host. You can put him down as type two; the angsty teenager with magic,” I said to Declan. “As for myself, I'm not angry anymore, but I have to warn you guys; Raphael is on this truth kick now that I know. Cerberus and I have told him about the five of us, and Raph has promised not to interfere.”
“But?” Gage prompted.
“But he's still carrying a torch, as it were.” I cleared my throat. “And he won't be shy about expressing that.”
The men looked at each other and then at me. They all shrugged.
“You'll be okay with him saying things about still being in love with me?” I asked in surprise.
“Frankly, little bird, I'd be more offended if he didn't still love you; you're an amazing woman, and I personally know how hard it is to do without you,” Torin said. “In addition to that, we are the winners in this scenario; it's hard to be bitter toward someone who has lost you for good.”
“As long as Raphael holds to his vow not to make any advances toward you,” Declan added.
“And he doesn't act like a jerk, like that fucktard Calex,” Gage went on.
The other men nodded to Gage in agreement.
“Calex is not a jerk,” I huffed.
They all stared at me blandly.
“Okay, he was a little jerkish,” I admitted. “But that's because he's a Drachen; it's nothing personal.”
“And this guy is an angel,” Banning pointed out. “You sure do know how to pick them, sweetheart.”
“Hey!” I pointed at my consorts as a whole. “Need I remind you guys again that the only one here who doesn't have annoying exes popping up is Gage?”
Torin, Declan, and Banning grimaced while Gage grinned.
“Does that mean I can make comments about your previous poor taste in men?” Gage asked.
“Fine,” I said with a sigh. “Since you saved yourself for me, you may criticize my past romances.”
“Maybe I shouldn't,” Gage said as he pulled me into an embrace. “Every choice you made helped bring you to me; that makes them good decisions in my book.”
“My sweet griffin,” I said before I kissed him.
“Looks like Gage is ahead today,” Banning muttered to the other men.
