The Complete Archangel Wars Series: A Shared Universe Series (The Archangel Wars)

by Jonathan Yanez

  Danielle’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, really? Do tell.”

  ---

  Ten minutes later, after Danielle made Alan repeat every detail of the conversation he had the night before, twice, and interrupted him every few minutes with questions, the two stood quiet.

  “So what are you going to do now?”

  The question was simple, yet Alan had no response. “I guess go talk to Michael and see what he has to say. Even though he lied to me, I owe him that much.”

  “Yeah, I’m not trying to sway you either way here, but if Michael didn’t tell you about the Horsemen and he knew about it, I’m sure he had good reason.”

  “I’d like to think so. I’d better get this over with.”

  Danielle and Alan left his sleeping quarters and traveled down the long corridor to where Michael waited. Alan was glad to have Danielle’s company, not only for someone to talk with, but also for a guide along the Temple grounds.

  A few moments later, Danielle led him into the same large, round room where Artemis had first told him about his true identity. Michael sat with Kyle, speaking in low tones. As soon as Alan appeared at the door, Michael broke off his sentence and stood.

  “Kyle, if you could excuse us?”

  Kyle nodded and moved to leave the room. He gave a small smile to Alan as he passed him at the door. “Good luck.”

  Alan accepted the words with a nod of his own and stepped inside.

  “Danielle,” Michael said as he waved for Alan to take a seat. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to speak with Alan alone.”

  “Sure.” Danielle made eye contact with Alan as she left, giving a look that said, Hang in there.

  When Danielle vanished from the doorway, Alan got a better chance to examine the Archangel. Michael looked how Alan felt: sleep deprived and worried.

  “If you’re willing, I’d like to start. If you have any questions when I’m done, I’ll be more than happy to answer them.”

  “Okay.”

  Michael leaned forward in his chair, his eyes expressing emotion with every word. “First and foremost, I owe you an apology. I was wrong to keep anything from you. But before you decide to accept or reject my apology, I’ll explain why I did so, and then you can pass judgment.”

  Michael took a deep breath. Alan could tell whatever the immortal being was about to say was not easy for him. “The truth is, I only suspected you were a Horseman; I didn’t know with certainty until your wings evolved. Then I thought I was doing the right thing from guarding you against the truth. I thought that if we kept you safe, there was a chance this one thousand year cycle of the Horsemen could be resolved in peace instead of war and death. I should have known better. History will repeat itself, and there is nothing you or I can do to stop it.”

  Michael paused, allowing his words to sink in. Alan thought he caught the beginnings of moisture in the Archangel’s eyes. As soon as he suspected tears would come, Michael turned his head and continued. His voice was as steady as ever. “I’ve lost many friends over the years. I’ve seen many good Nephilim and angels alike fall in the chaos as a result of the Horsemen’s choice. There’s always a battle; always at least one out of the Four who refuses to see the Light. I fear this time will be the greatest test for us all. Artemis told me Gabriel has already paid you a visit. He is a dangerous member of the Fallen, Alan. He’s kept his existence a secret until now. Until this time, when he’s fully recovered from his wounds and he has a leaderless army to recruit, thanks to Ardat. He’s timed everything perfectly, while I’ve been too caught up and selfish in what’s happening in my own life to see it.”

  Alan wanted to comfort his friend. He wanted to tell him that he forgave him. He wanted to relieve even a fraction of the internal suffering Michael was feeling. But he knew Michael wouldn’t allow it. The Archangel needed to finish.

  “All I can do now is react. I have an obligation to fight for the Light. A war is coming, Alan. A war this world has never seen. It would take all Four Horsemen to agree on a single side to prevent this, but this has never happened. There is always at least one who stands against the rest. I fear that with a leader like Gabriel, the Darkness may recruit the other three Horsemen to its side. You may be the only one to defend against the coming Apocalypse, Alan.”

  “Great.”

  Michael looked at Alan long and hard, eyes speaking volumes of sincerity, apologized without words. Then the words followed. “Alan, I am sorry for keeping the truth from you. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I promise, no more secrets from here on out.”

  The level of Michael’s distraught demeanor struck Alan. He knew he’d forgive him, yet he still felt he needed time for all of this to sink in. “I do forgive you, Michael. I don’t appreciate the fact that you kept the truth hidden from me, but I do see why you did it.”

  Michael’s shoulders dropped in a sign of thankfulness.

  “I just need some time to gather my thoughts.”

  “I understand. The events of the past day must weigh heavily on your shoulders. Take however long you need.” Michael hesitated as if he had more words to share, then he thought better of it and swallowed them back down.

  “What?” Alan asked with a raised eyebrow. “Is there more? Are there mythical beasts lurking somewhere, as well? You’re going to tell me I have to slay the Kraken and tame the Minotaur?”

  Michael shook his head with a grin. “No, I was thinking of a way to ask you to stay inside the Temple while you take your time to adjust to your new reality. Gabriel and his underlings are loose and would no doubt love an opportunity to confront you. I have Seraphim and any Death Angels she can spare, and even a few regimens of my own angels, out looking for him.”

  “You think you’ll find him?”

  “I’m hopeful. However, he has managed to deceive us and remain hidden this long.”

  “How did things go with Ardat?”

  As soon as Alan had asked the question, he immediately regretted his words. Michael had come to him vexed, and as soon as Alan had accepted his apology, a large portion of the stress he carried appeared to vanish. Now, at the mention of the woman he loved, Michael’s face seemed to age ten years right in front of Alan.

  “Ardat’s fate is yet to be decided. She’s provided information that will hopefully save her from execution. Even if this is the case, there will still be a severe punishment for her actions. I fear, at the very least, the tribunal will sentence her to a life behind bars.”

  Alan didn’t know what to say. A simple apology didn’t seem to fit the conversation. The two men sat, allowing the silence to lengthen, Michael lost in thought on Ardat’s fate and the hunt for a man he thought long dead, Alan still wrestling with the fact of his true identity.

  Both men jumped at the sound of the door opening, and Artemis walked in with a silver plate piled high with food. Alan’s stomach did a backflip as he realized how many meals he’d missed.

  “I brought sandwiches,” Artemis said with a hint of pride as the girl placed the contents of her tray on a table set in the middle of the room. “I made them myself.”

  Alan was glad for the break in their conversation, and if he could read Michael at all, so was the Archangel.

  “Thank you, Artemis,” Michael said as he rose from his chair.

  Alan was already halfway across the room, eyeing a large sandwich stuffed with meat and cheese. The aroma of food was like an oasis for his sense of smell. His mouth began to water as he reached for his prize.

  “Can I show him now, Michael?” Artemis asked. “Please?”

  Alan was caught mid-bite. The sandwich already to his lips with his teeth wrapped around the soft bread. Artemis’ question made him hesitate as he looked back and forth between the Prophet and the Archangel.

  Michael gave Artemis a wink. “You can show him whatever you like. I promised him no more secrets.”

  Chapter Seventy-Nine

  Triana drummed her fingers on the table. She was deep in thought, eager to f
ind a solution to the problem plaguing her master. She, along with the other three Fallen recruited at the bar, were waiting for their orders. They were cooped up in a rundown building located just a few miles from the remains of the Temple.

  Waiting was nothing new for her. Those she shared the room with, however, were a different story. “How much longer do we have to wait?” Drake asked, with a flex of his overly bulky biceps.

  “As long as it takes him,” Triana responded, ice in her voice. “We’ll wait here all day if that’s what Gabriel wants us to do.”

  Drake shrugged and went back to cleaning the dirt out from under his nails.

  “Why doesn’t he just kill them all?” This question came from another member of their new party. Crux was a tall, lean man with a shaved head and a full beard. “The Gabriel I remember would have pulled the spines from their bodies.”

  Triana shook her head. “You’re all missing the point, here. Gabriel is powerful enough now to kill them all, Michael and the Death Angels included. The years he spent in hiding not only healed him from his wounds, but also added strength to his body and resolve to his cause. The point here isn’t to kill them; the point is to find the Four Horsemen and convince them to bring about the Apocalypse.”

  Crux shook his head. “That’s never worked, not in the million years since I’ve been around and humans were given this game of choice.”

  Triana took a moment to gather her thoughts. What Crux said wasn’t completely untrue. Every one thousand years, when the cycle repeated itself and four new Horsemen were chosen, never had all four agreed to stand united and bring about the end of the world. What would be different this time?

  Before Triana could present a rebuttal to Crux’s argument, the last member in their new party spoke. “Unless he’s found a way to bring about the Apocalypse without the support of the Four. Maybe he’s found a loophole.”

  The room silenced as they all considered the possibility of Coralline’s words. The woman was standing by a window, her brown hair in a tight bun that pulled against her pale complexion. Rare that any sign of emotion crossed her face, and this was no exception.

  “Well, that would be great,” Drake said. “But having our wings back and winning the war that sent us here would be great, too. We can all wish for things we want. That doesn’t mean they’ll actually happen.”

  Coralline didn’t respond, and the same dead look on her face didn’t change.

  A loud thump came from the roof of the building as though a tree had fallen, and the dirty windows shook with the impact, the old, wooden frame threatening to collapse.

  If Triana wasn’t already sure of who it was, she might have been scared. Instead of fear, expectance filled her chest.

  Without a knock, the door swung open and Gabriel stepped in. One look around the room and their leader shook his head. “Well, my friends, the time of waiting is over.”

  “How did the meeting go?” Triana asked.

  “As expected. Michael has already manipulated him toward the Light; he refuses to rethink his choice.”

  “What now?” Drake asked, leaning forward in his chair.

  “Everyone has a limit, Drake. Everyone has a button, no matter who they are. Now, we find Alan Price’s breaking point and we squeeze.”

  ---

  The food tasted delicious. Alan refused to calculate how many calories he was consuming as he stuffed another bite of the bread-and-cheese-heavy sandwich into his mouth. He was still chewing, with his first sandwich held securely with his left hand and a fresh sandwich ready in his right.

  Artemis was leading him through the underground Temple to yet another section of the grounds he had yet to explore. Between chews Alan managed to ask, “How big is this place?”

  Artemis’ eyes twinkled in the light of the torches strategically placed every few yards along the Temple’s passages. “I don’t know, but it’s big. I haven’t even had time to explore it all. There are so many rooms and secret passages, and even more levels below us.”

  Alan was about to express his wonder, but the food in his mouth hindered this vocal expression. Instead, he settled for a raise of his eyebrows and a shake of his head.

  Artemis guided him through the labyrinth of halls, past open doors filled with armor, rooms stacked from floor to ceiling with more books, and even a room with a sign next to the arch that read: Please Don’t Feed the Animals.

  Alan paused by the entrance as his eyes strained to see inside the dark room. Although the blackness refused to concede to his gaze, his ears picked up a faint sound, like a large animal breathing in long, deep sighs. And not just one. Alan had to say something. “Artemis?”

  “Yep?”

  Alan cocked his head, pointing into the room. “What’s in here?”

  Artemis shrugged with an expression that said, “I don’t know.” When Alan didn’t budge, Artemis felt obliged to vocalize her position. “I wish the place had come with a map, but it didn’t. I’ve had to explore the Temple myself, but it’s been fun. Now come on, hurry up. We’re almost there.”

  Alan took one last look into the room, making a mental note to come back when he’d finished with what Artemis was so eager to show him.

  True to her word, in a few more steps, they arrived. Artemis pushed open a large set of double doors. Alan was done with his sandwiches, the last bits in the process of being swallowed as he entered the room.

  The room they walked into was more of a hall, one so large it rivaled the size of a football stadium, complete with massive chandeliers with lit candles that hung down from vaulted ceilings.

  “Not to be rude,” Artemis said, “but I’m surprised you’re not fatter.”

  Alan was still in awe of the room as he was thrown off by his guide’s last words. “What?”

  “Yeah, I mean, no offense, but you eat a lot.”

  Alan laughed out loud. “No offense taken. What is this place?”

  Artemis smiled as she skipped into the room. The floor was made up of a wide, red carpet that covered dark, grey stones. “I don’t know what the technical term for it is, so I’ve been thinking of it as your history.”

  “My history?” Alan repeated the words as if the girl spoke in a different language.

  “Yeah, look at the walls.”

  Alan did, and within seconds, he knew what she meant. Every few yards hung large portraits on the walls, to either side. The first picture took his breath away.

  Shock overcame his mind, as if his brain had been plunged into ice-cold water, then placed back into his head. He blinked to make sure he was seeing correctly, but there was no denying what he saw in the painting: a picture of him, the very first time his blue wings had appeared from his back.

  Alan took a step closer, his eyes telling his brain it was true, though his brain still struggled to piece together how this could be happening. The picture captured his features, perfect in every detail.

  His powers had revealed themselves during a fight with Ardat on a cargo ship in the middle of the ocean. The picture showed the same scene he remembered: being held helpless as his mentor, Jacob, was killed. The memories of that day rushed over Alan with a wave of sadness.

  Next to his picture hung four canvases—three were blank, the same size as his own. These four were placed parallel to one another above one massive picture that only showed an image of himself. Wings displayed, his head was down in an act of prayer.

  “What … what does this all mean?” he whispered.

  “Come on,” Artemis said, “it will all make sense soon.”

  Alan had to tear his gaze away from the image of himself as he followed Artemis down the large hall.

  “This doesn’t make any sense,” Alan said as the pair stopped to examine the next set of portraits.

  The five pictures in front of them, unlike the previous set, were complete. In each of the smaller four frames lined above the larger, a painting was drawn in rich, vibrant colors that made the pictures seem almost real. The pictures we
re of two men and two women, each in a different pose and wearing clothing foreign in every way. One similarity stuck out: they all had wings. Not the customary arcs of feathers that one thought of when the image of an angel came to mind. They were all different in color and appearance—green, red, yellow, and blue wings extended out behind them.

  At once, everything fell into place—the clothing, the wings, and the portraits. These were the four humans chosen a thousand years before. The larger picture below the smaller four showed three of the Horsemen on the side of a white background and one, the being with red wings, on the opposite side in the foreground of a black background.

  “This—” Alan couldn’t bring himself to say it.

  “This is a record of your past,” Artemis said in a tender tone. “A visual recording of the Horsemen chosen one thousand years before.”

  Alan’s eyes were fixated on the lone Horseman opposing the rest. She was a raven-haired woman with a fierce stare. Her eyes blazed with a hate so intense Alan couldn’t wrap his mind around the expression. “Who was she?”

  “She was the only Horseman who sided with the Darkness when the choosing happened. The other three stood on the side of the Light.”

  Alan suddenly worried for the long-dead woman. Something gripped his heart as he voiced the question tugging at his mind. “What happened to her?”

  “She refused to stand down and was killed by the other three.”

  “Why? Why would she still choose to fight if there was no chance of bringing about the Apocalypse? Don’t all Four Horsemen have to side with the Darkness for that to happen?”

  “They do,” Artemis agreed. “Still, once their decisions are made, the Darkness cannot coexist with the Light. There cannot be, and will never be, harmony between the two powers,” she explained with eyes lowered as if saddened by this fact.

  Alan moved slowly down to his left. More and more pictures passed by his line of sight. All different, yet somehow telling the same story. Four people were always chosen in every combination of male and female; the selection of Horsemen seemed nothing but random. Alan even witnessed portraits of all women, and likewise, all men.