by C. Gockel
“Time doesn’t matter down here. Everything moves on, even dreams. Plus, I wasn’t completely asleep. Sleeping is normally a bad idea down here.”
There it was again—the overwhelming guilt of what she had done. Michaela pulled away slightly so they were eye to eye. “Gabe, I…I’ve missed you.”
He picked up her hand, his fingertip tracing the lines in her palm. “You know I’ve had to stop myself from channeling you,” he said without looking up.
“Why?” Michaela asked, shocked. “I want you to!”
“Michaela, Hell makes me…different.” Gabriel shook his head. “I want you.”
“Want me? You have me.”
“No.” Gabriel let go of her hands. “I mean I want you…and your body.”
Open-mouthed, Michaela stared at Gabriel until she realized she was gaping. Their relationship had always been platonic. It was a passionate relationship, but not in a physical sense. Michaela loved Gabriel with every fiber of her body, because her body was made to love him. She had never considered actually making love with him.
“Is it wrong for us to…”
“I don’t know.” Gabriel shrugged. The movement was casual, but Michaela sensed his unease.
“I don’t want to tarnish your soul,” Michaela said, making Gabriel’s eyes cut to hers.
“Does it matter anymore?” he asked, his words bitter.
Michaela thought for a moment before she said, “Okay.”
“Okay, what?” Gabriel watched her closely now, lines forming between his eyes.
“I think I want you too.” Michaela held up her other hand to show Gabriel how it shook. “See? And I’m all tingly—”
Gabriel’s eyes flared a molten gold, and he yanked her into his body. His mouth landed hard over hers as Michaela sucked in a surprised breath. Their kiss was hot and wild and nothing like it had been the first time Gabriel channeled her. Michaela’s eyes were wide open, staring at him as he kissed her. A heavy fist clenched around her gut, and she felt lost.
Her eyes closed, and then she was in his lap. The leather cloth around his hips bunched underneath her as she straddled him. Her thoughts were on the leather and what a thin barrier it was between their bodies when his arms banded around her, pulling her tighter against him until she felt the thump of his heart beating against her chest.
She began to participate in the kiss, following Gabriel’s lead, when a horrible scream—a scream of something dying—high-pitched and keening, echoed from the arena below. It was sharp and violent in Michaela’s ears, and she had to pull away from Gabriel. He closed his eyes as if in pain and slid her off his lap.
The scream cut off abruptly, and wild cheer erupted from the crowd.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Um,” Michaela stammered, confused and completely rattled. Gabriel opened his eyes and watched her. Her lips were swollen; her body pulsed. She raked a shaking hand through her tangled hair. “Um.”
Gabriel took her hand in his, rubbing the pad of his thumb across the tops of her fingers. “Why did you come here, Michaela?” he asked softly.
She crashed from whatever high she had been on. Did he not want her here? She bit the inside of her cheek.
That’s stupid, she told herself. Of course he didn’t want her here. He lived in a rusted cage, hanging in air stinking of sulfur and fear. Beasts tore him apart every night for fun. Why would he want her to see that? Especially since she was the reason he was here. She realized Gabriel stared at her, waiting for her to speak.
“Did you know about the Purification?” Her brain was addled. She wasn’t thinking clearly, which is why she blurted out the question.
Gabriel was silent. Within a breath, the golden hue of his eyes turned to a thick, viscous caramel. Michaela held back a grimace as the static in the air from his anger sent shocks rippling along her skin.
“I heard about a car accident on the radio, and I remembered something Lucifer told me that night in the cave.” Michaela talked too fast as she tried to explain. “I found Loki. He told me about the Aethere trading souls for favors from Lucifer. He thinks Lucifer is doing something bad with the souls, something that the Aethere don’t know about. Did you know about this? Did the Aethere really set us up?”
Lightning erupted across the sky. A tendril hit the scaffolding and sent sparks flying into the dome like fireworks. Even still, a snowstorm brewed, and huge snowflakes landed in Michaela’s hair. The crowd went wild. From far below, a beast bellowed in agony.
“Gabe, talk to me.”
It was a long, barbed silence before he finally spoke. “You promised.”
“I know. And I am really sorry. But I couldn’t let it go. So tell me, did the Aethere betray us?” she asked softly.
“Yes.”
Michaela’s tears were immediate and pushed against the edges of her eyes. She fought to hold them back. “When did you know?” Gabriel didn’t answer or look at her. “Talk to me!”
“I knew something was going on when I went back to Heaven with Zarachiel. Then they sent me here, and I heard rumors about the deal,” Gabriel said finally.
“So you knew that first night you channeled me, and you didn’t say anything!”
“Michaela!” Her name on his lips was a groan of frustration. “You were badly hurt. Those angels set you up, gave you over to Lucifer, and he ripped your wings out. Of course I didn’t want you running after them. You should have stayed out of it.”
“But the souls are being unfairly judged. We have no clue where the other holy Archangels are. And you’re in Hell! We can’t stay out of this!” Michaela didn’t want to fight. She tried so hard to keep the anger from her voice, but she was failing.
Gabriel shook his head, but didn’t respond.
“Loki told me about a club run by the fallen in Charleston. From the way he spoke, I think it might have something to do with the souls Loki won in the deal.”
Gabriel’s face went blank, and he looked through the bars over his shoulder. He stared down into the arena, studying the bloody entertainment. “I guess that’s where you’re going next.”
“Actually, I am.” She jerked upright, using the bars to pull herself up. Her head brushed the top of the cage. Gabriel rose behind her, making the cage lurch beneath their feet. She clenched the bars in her hands to keep from falling as she turned to face him.
“Don’t be stupid, Michaela.” The artificial light twisted his face, casting shadows in his eyes like he was a fallen. He stood solid in the rocking cage, towering over her. Michaela scowled, striding forward, and stabbed her finger at his chest.
“I’m not being stupid! Do you have any idea what this feels like? Everyone thinks I’m a traitor! And you wanted me to do nothing about it!”
“Clearly, you listen so well.” Lightning struck the cage, causing the metal to glow with heat. Neither angels felt as their feet burned. Gabriel slapped her hand away from his chest.
“I don’t understand. I thought you of all people would have wanted me to fight back. Any other time, you would have been by my side.”
“I can’t be with you! I can’t protect you! Because I’m in here.”
She heard the accusation in his voice even though he tried to hide it. She stared at him, shocked and hurt. He saw her expression and backed her into the bars, pinning her against them. “This is beyond us, Michaela.” His voice was a growl in her ear. “Something big is going on. You need to stay away from Charleston.”
“That’s exactly the reason I’m going,” she said, defiant. In response, Gabriel hit the bar next to her head. The metal screeched and bent beneath his force; the cage jerked as if he had set it in motion.
They looked around, forgetting about their argument for a moment. The air began to warm, and the noises grew louder as the cage lowered toward the red dirt arena.
Gabriel grabbed her again and spun her around so she looked out onto the arena through the bars. He was pressed tight against her back. Her thoughts drifted to th
e leather at his hips briefly before she bit her lip and forced herself to focus.
“Look down there. What do you see?”
The stands were packed with souls going crazy for the carnage in front of them as more unlucky fallen souls fought all sorts of Hell’s beasts. The souls were in their human forms, but their cheering was anything but human. As they drew closer, Michaela saw their hollow eyes.
“That’s a lot of souls. Too many, but do you see any angels?”
Michaela kept to her sullen silence. She knew Hell would be full. That was exactly the problem. The Purification had messed up the balance. There were a lot of souls, but she didn’t spot one fallen.
“Before the attack on Heaven, you sent me down here to find answers to the fallen’s disappearances, but there weren’t any answers to find. That’s because the fallen are scared. Whatever Lucifer is doing with those extra souls has made a lot of his angels run and hide. Leave it alone, Michaela. This is way bigger than our problems.”
The cage settled heavily on the ground. Dust and blood mingled in the arena. Huge beasts thrashed and roared, straining against the chains buried in the ground. They snapped huge maws, revealing hunks of skin and muscle caught between their fangs.
“I can’t, Gabe,” she said quietly.
“Ga-br-iel! Ga-br-iel! Ga-br-iel!” The crowds chanting began as a large soul dressed in steal armor walked toward the cage carrying keys. In the stands, millions of souls stamped their feet, drowning out their voices. Michaela shivered at their blood lust.
He stepped away from her, and she turned around. Hell had changed Gabriel. Doubt was heavy in his eyes, and it was an expression she had never seen on his face before. The thought that he might not believe in her splintered her insides, lodging deep within the softest parts of her. Doubt was a powerful thing, especially in angels. It led to ruin.
“I don’t think you should come down here anymore,” he said, turning away from her to wait by the door.
Michaela bit her lip. The arena looked much bigger from the ground. Lightning forked across the red sky. The massive beasts snapped in the cage’s direction. They looked like oversized dogs; their eyes settled right on her.
“I’m sorry, Gabe,” she whispered.
The key turned in the cage’s lock. A deafening boom from thousands of voices in the stands sounded as one. He ducked out of the cage and stepped into the searing lights—never looking back.
Michaela woke to Clark’s nudging. Her eyes were blurry, and all she saw was Clark’s face going in and out of focus in front of a flickering neon sign. She wiped at a loose tear.
“I couldn’t make it any farther,” Clark said just as blearily. “I kept drifting off, so I got us a room in the back.” He wagged a room key in her face. “We’re about an hour and a half from Charleston.”
Michaela sat up. She raked her hand through her hair, snagging it in the tangles as she scanned the parking lot. It was a cheap place called the Tropical Breeze. Two semi-trucks and an old beat up truck were the only other cars. She wrinkled her nose. “It’ll do.”
Together, they gathered what little Clark had packed from the car before heading to the room. He rammed the door with his shoulder while wiggling the key in the lock until they got in. Michaela flipped on the light, which took a moment to truly come on. Clark plopped down on the other bed and kicked the wheezing air conditioner that only cycled warm, musty air.
“You can shower first,” he said, trying to turn on the TV.
On her way to the bathroom, Michaela grabbed the duffel bag full of clothes. When she stepped into the shower, the water was ice on her skin, but the numbness was worth it. She dumped the contents of the motel’s shampoo and conditioner in her hair, and mindlessly worked it into lather.
She forced her mind blank. When the water had turned her skin to wrinkles, she wrapped a towel around herself and stepped out. With Clark’s toothbrush, she scrubbed her teeth until they bled.
No matter how much she tried not to think about it, she still felt Gabriel’s hands on her, his mouth on hers. She heard him say he wanted her. Their kiss had been completely different than the kiss he had given her back when she was recovering in the small Descendant safe house. That kiss had been friendly, like nothing had changed in their relationship. Something had now; Michaela knew it.
But Gabriel had also never been as angry with her as he was tonight. They had fought, but never like this. Never before had he looked at her with disappointment. She couldn’t handle seeing it on his face again, knowing she had let him down.
Gabriel was right about not coming to see him anymore. He didn’t understand what she had to do. And she didn’t understand her feelings for him. They were the perfect reasons to stay away.
She looked in the dingy mirror and fortified herself. It took a few minutes to convince her reflection that she was right, but she did it. When she walked out of the bathroom, her mouth was set in a grim line. She would not be channeling Gabriel again.
Clark looked asleep with the remote in his hand. Stripping the bed of its comforter and pillows, she settled beneath the sheet in a baggy Led Zeppelin t-shirt and boxers. She left the lights and TV on. Her eyes had just settled closed when Clark spoke.
“What do you think Loki meant?” he whispered, like he was unsure of his question.
Michaela opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. She wondered if anyone ever truly knew what Loki meant. “About what?”
“He said he didn’t remember every soul he carried.” Clark’s voice wavered. “But he would, right?”
Michaela sighed. “One thing you need to know about Loki is that he will say or do just about anything if he thinks he can cause some trouble.”
Knowing Loki, he only taunted Clark to get a reaction. He loved nothing more than to toy with emotions, to see them actually experienced by someone. Michaela had known the angel a long time, and she had yet to see anything genuine cross his unnatural features.
“He looked like he might say something else though. Like maybe—”
“Don’t get caught up with things Loki says. He is a different sort of angel. All he wants is trouble.”
Clark was silent for so long Michaela thought he fell asleep. She had just turned over and closed her eyes again when he said, “I didn’t even know her.”
Michaela strained to hear his quiet voice. She didn’t know if he talked to her or if the thought was too powerful to stay quiet in his head. Either way, she heard it—the youthful naiveté, like he was a young boy again praying for his mother to come home.
“Don’t let it bother you,” she said. She wished she could take her own advice and not let Gabriel’s disappointment bother her so much.
“I don’t know what I know anymore,” Clark answered after a moment of silence.
Michaela heard him turn over in bed, rolling to face the opposite wall away from her. She sighed at the tug in her heart. Her next words surprised her.
“You know your mother loved you. You know you loved her. You know she sent you those dreams and that you are doing what she wanted. That’s all you need to know.” Michaela paused. She didn’t want to say more, but the words came anyway. “We won’t let her down. Now, let’s get some sleep.”
Michaela thought Clark had fallen asleep when he said, “Thank you.”
She clenched her eyes shut. That was not what she expected. The snake coiled tight around her spine. Its rattler sounded in her head, reminding her not to get too close. She thought of Gabriel. Friendships were pain on Earth. But was Gabe really just a friend? The thought taunted her until she drifted into a restless form of sleep.
Chapter Twenty
On Charleston’s King Street, Devilish Desires stood like a neon homing beacon calling all souls for a good time. Clark limped through the water-filled potholes of the parking lot, thinking Michaela’s promise of a stakeout had sounded so beguiling in the beginning. It was—for the first thirty minutes. Now, Clark’s leg was numb from pinky toe to ass cheek, and he sm
elled of car air freshener and boredom. He planned to get a drink first thing, and he didn’t care what Michaela said about it.
He made it in to the strip club and continued down a long corridor where thick, red velvet curtains ran along the walls and spilled onto the floor in heaps. Through an archway was the main room of the club lit only by dripping black candles and low hanging chandeliers. Musk, heavy and nearly choking, permeated the air and made Clark’s eyes water. A deep, thrumming beat vibrated from the hidden subwoofers, forcing Clark’s heart along to its tantalizing rhythm.
Clark ordered a double whiskey at the bar. He threw back the shot; it instantly cleared his head as the amber liquid seared his insides. Above the bar and throughout the club hung the heads of zebras, lions, deer, alligators, and even one elephant stared back at Clark.
“Kind of morbid don’t you think?” Clark asked the busty bartender, pointing at the taxidermy collection. She only scowled at him in response.
Surveying the club from his position at the bar, Clark settled on a section of wall behind one of the larger stages. A thin veil of dusty, black lace hung over another smaller archway leading to the back of the club. As Clark watched, two patrons slipped through the thin curtain and disappeared around the corner.
He had another drink before heading toward the curtain. The dark wood floors were slick beneath the soles of his boots except where old rugs laid in front of the Victorian-styled couches facing the stages where the strippers worked their slow, twisting magic.
The lace door parted easily around him, brushing over him like hands skimming across his skin. Beyond the material was a narrow hall of red paneled walls with doors numbered one to ten. His eyes narrowed at the only unmarked door at the end of the hall.
Clark walked slowly to let his eyes and ears adjust. As he reached for the knob of the unmarked door, he paused and looked back down the hall.
Voices approached and the curtain parted. If fallen angels came into the hall, Clark was caught and as good as dead. His knees barely had time to quake when the unmarked door in front of him opened. Someone’s hands reached from the dark room and wrapped around his upper arm. By the time he yelped, he was in the room, sprawled on the floor. The door quietly closed behind him.
