by CC Bridges
Yesterday, as they’d walked back to the house at the north end, Jeff had told him the junkyard extended for four miles in either direction. He’d seemed proud of that, pointing out how he’d wired the floodlights to respond to the lack of light around them, and how the color of the lights could change to guide your path. Light blue always led back to Jeff’s home.
Gabriel shook his head, still trying to make sense of what had happened to him. He hadn’t slept much after his initial descent. His shoulder and his remaining wing both ached. So instead of sleeping, he watched out the tiny window in the room where he would spend his exile.
The room itself had been emptied of everything but the mattress and bedding in the center. Beneath his bare feet, the floor was smooth plastic, except for in the corners where it chipped off, revealing the planks of wood beneath. The slanted roof looked like the old metal blend they used in the original levels, back when Heaven had first been built. This entire house seemed like a patchwork mess.
Gabriel longed for home, for the clean-lined perfection of the buildings stretching out across the horizon. He missed the constant chatter of his companions in his mind. Without his halo, the emptiness echoed, a silence he couldn’t fill. Gabriel wanted to feel the sun on his face, for his wings to slice through the air. He chafed at being the patient here instead of the protector. His purpose was to fight demons, to keep the people of midlevel safe.
Demons. Demons controlled all of downside, the city below. He was lucky Jeff hadn’t turned him over to them. They must have thought him on the cusp of death, one wing gone, halo ripped from him. Without that, he couldn’t call for help, and really, what was one angel against a horde of demons?
Gabriel turned at the gentle knock on his door, another old-fashioned thing, instead of the slide doors he knew back home. He’d left it ajar, so he wasn’t surprised when Jeff ducked under the doorway and stepped inside.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jeff said, probably surprised at catching Gabriel shirtless, his one wing stretched out as he stared out the window.
“No, it’s all right.” Gabriel rolled his shoulders, trying to work out the ever-present kink. “I was trying to stretch out my wings. Wing.”
Jeff moved closer, eyes only for the length of intricate metal that Gabriel held extended from his body. “Does it hurt? It might have been damaged….”
“It needs to be oiled.” Gabriel sighed, knowing there was little chance of finding the right oil downside. Just another discomfort he’d have to get used to here.
“Might have something in the workshop that’ll work. Do you mind me taking a look at it?”
Gabriel’s heart sped up at the offer. “Please.” He held still as Jeff ran his fingers over the dull metal. The touch caused a tingle to reverberate to his shoulder, and he bit his lip to keep from shivering.
“Fascinating technology,” Jeff murmured. “Interlocking metal feathers. Absolutely nothing like demon wings.”
“Have you done a lot of work on demon wings?” Gabriel stiffened, realizing how little he knew of this man.
Jeff pulled his fingers away. “This is Old Trent. You’ll have a hard time finding someone who hasn’t done business with demons.”
“Jeff.” Gabriel grabbed his hand, the sudden contact of skin on skin warm and surprising after being alone. Of course Jeff was right. Gabriel could hardly blame him for doing what he needed to survive. “I didn’t mean….”
“Dad!” Kayla called from downstairs.
Jeff pulled away, giving Gabriel a tight smile. “I’m up here,” he yelled down. “She wants to take you to the market. Fair warning, I think she wants to pick out new clothes for you.”
Gabriel was surprised into a laugh. “I don’t blame her. I can’t very well go around in your pants.” He pulled on the very loose waistband to demonstrate his point.
Jeff turned away. “You’ll need to be careful out there. Trust us to watch your back down here.”
“I know the dangers of downside.”
“No, you don’t. Kidnapping, being used for spare body parts, being made to serve demons, getting forcibly addicted to Ice. You don’t know the half of what could happen out there.”
Gabriel nodded. “I will follow your lead, then.” He had no choice but to submit to Jeff’s expertise. It was little different from following Metatron’s orders but without the constant presence in his mind guiding him to always do what was right.
“Come downstairs when you’re ready. We’ll take care of that wing before we leave.”
JEFF FOUND an oil that might work, a thick yellow-green fluid used for the most intricate of parts. He only had a quart of it left, but if it worked, they could purchase more at the market. At the very least, he could do this for the angel.
“So this is your workshop?” Gabriel’s eyes flitted around the large room, his head tilted at an odd angle. He seemed to be waiting for a voice that never came.
In some ways he was almost childlike, naive about everything. But Jeff knew Gabriel 1089 was dangerous, a soldier for Heaven Corp, with his wings literally clipped. His bare chest rippled with muscles, not an ounce of fat on his narrow frame as if he were meant to soar the skies like a bird of prey. Jeff wanted to run his hands along those chiseled muscles, feel whether they were flesh or made of stone. It had been too long since he’d indulged in touching another man like that, and Jeff hadn’t expected to find himself missing it.
“I like to think the whole junkyard is my workshop,” Jeff said. “But this is where I work on special projects.”
“Like me?” Gabriel finally turned his full gaze on Jeff, those pale eyes startling when focused so intently.
Jeff coughed to cover his reaction, surprised at the thread of desire coiling in his gut. “I think I found you some oil.” He showed Gabriel the clear glass jar.
Gabriel took a whiff of the oil, blinking in response. “Oh. It smells sweet.”
“It’s not your typical junkyard oil,” Jeff agreed. “This should be fine for your cybernetics.”
Gabriel frowned, crossing his arms in front of his bare chest. “You say that like they’re not me. My wings.” He closed his eyes at the slip.
How much did it hurt to lose a limb? Jeff had a flash of Kayla in his arms, blood everywhere, body mangled. He swallowed, not having to imagine the agony at all. “I’m sorry.”
“How do you want me?”
Jeff shook his head at the sudden change of topic. “What?”
“Well, I can’t reach myself.” Gabriel smiled.
Normally Jeff might think that expression coy or flirtatious, but he wasn’t sure about Gabriel. He didn’t know if angels could even engage in such things. All Jeff knew was that they were minions of Heaven Corp, often without wills of their own. The demons had to make their deals around the angels, who could not be bribed like normal humans. But that didn’t answer the question.
“Um, maybe if you lean over my chair,” Jeff offered, “so I can reach everywhere?” His face burned as he stepped into innuendo without meaning to. Yes, the angel was beautiful. They were made to be. But Jeff couldn’t even think about this sudden surprising attraction. Even if angels were able to bend that way, he could hardly start flirting with Gabriel, not when Jeff was keeping secrets to hold Gabriel here.
Gabriel didn’t seem to notice Jeff’s discomfort. He moved into position, kneeling on the seat of Jeff’s comfy chair, crossing his arms over the back and resting his chin on them. His golden wing stretched out, unfurling to its full length.
Jeff couldn’t help but be struck by the beauty of such a fascinating piece of machinery, the interlocking feathers that looked almost more like the scales of a fish, and the way they folded in and over. He picked up a clean shop rag and dabbed it in the jar of oil.
“Should I start any place in particular?”
“At the top, please.”
He buffed the metal, beginning where it met Gabriel’s pale skin, molded to his shoulder blade like he’d been born with it. It made the stu
b and wires sticking out of the other shoulder a monstrosity. Jeff had to do something about that. But right now he just concentrated on the way the dull metal began to gleam once oiled.
“Oh.” Gabriel’s back arched.
“Did I hurt you?” Jeff lifted the rag away.
“N-no.” Gabriel seemed to need to catch his breath, panting slightly after he spoke.
Jeff stroked his fingers down a set of feathers, delighting in how it caused Gabriel to shiver. He pulled back at the sound the angel made deep in his throat. Touching the angel like this wasn’t for his benefit, no matter how hard he got at Gabriel’s unintentional sensuality.
“It just feels… intense,” Gabriel choked out.
Jeff was glad Gabriel faced away from him, not sure he would have been able to hide his reaction to this intimate touch otherwise. “How….” He almost choked on the word. “How did it feel when the other angels did this?”
“They didn’t. There is an oil spray system in our showers.” Gabriel lifted one hand as if to mimic a motion.
Jeff pictured a row of angels, all nude and looking remarkably like Gabriel, standing together as they were oiled down, wings gleaming.
“Do you think it’s possible,” Gabriel started, voice thick, “to send a message past the demons?”
The sweet smell of the oil turned rancid as Jeff lied. “No, the demons rule Old Trent. No one can afford to cross them.” Especially not Jeff.
Gabriel hunched over. His shoulders humped and his wing dragged, as if it were too heavy to lift. Jeff wished he could help the angel, send him home and out of their lives, keep Gabriel and Kayla safe from whatever Luca planned. Luca had toppled other powerful demons to gain his place, taking virtually all of Old Trent as his territory. He hadn’t been nice or polite about the takeover. Jeff had never seen a demon so ruthless, killing those who stood in his way and leaving the mangled bodies for all to see, both with their own eyes and in flickering holograms around the city.
He added another dollop of oil, almost done, but not wanting to sever this connection with Gabriel.
“What does your name mean?” he asked, wanting Gabriel to talk about himself, but not dwell on what he had lost.
Gabriel let out a laugh. “I’m named Gabriel because I’m an archangel class, one thousand series. Eighty-nine because I was the eighty-ninth made in that line.”
“How many are there?”
“Too few now. They’ve moved on to the five thousand series and the seraph class.”
Jeff wanted to know more, wanted to ask what made each series different, how people had been modified, changed into something other. But it would be wrong to satisfy his mechanical curiosity when all he could give Gabriel in return were lies.
Just as wrong as his enjoyment of Gabriel beneath his fingertips. Jeff swallowed the guilt and wiped off his hands.
“There,” he said. “I think I’ve got it all now.”
Gabriel gave a roll of his shoulder and the wing responded, twisting and sliding into itself until the wing took up no more room than a shirt tucked up against the angel’s back.
“That’s handy.” Jeff’s mind was already whirling with thoughts, comparing the design to the demonic wings, how one could be modified for the better.
“Everything fits now.” Gabriel stood. “Thank you.”
If only everything else could be fixed as easily.
Chapter Four
GABRIEL PERCHED in the back row of Jeff’s strange vehicle, trying to keep his back from touching the cloth seat. Like many of Jeff’s things, his truck was a patchwork of materials, put together from spare parts in the junkyard. The control panel was very modern, a sleek touchboard with an illuminated display of sensors, looking out of place inside the half-rusted exterior. At least it wasn’t another row of old-fashioned screens, otherwise Gabriel would seriously worry about the safety of this contraption. The panel gave him hope that there was some modern engineering involved in the build. Gabriel wasn’t sure he trusted old mechanical transportation.
Jeff had loaded something in the flatbed in the back, covering it with a flapping green tarp before Gabriel could look closely. Ever since their moment in the workshop, Jeff had seemed almost standoffish, replying to Gabriel’s questions with nothing more than a nod or a grunt.
He didn’t know what to think of it, how his body had reacted when Jeff touched his wing. Gabriel had never been so intimate with anyone. Sex wasn’t forbidden to angels, but neither was it encouraged, and especially not between two males. He kept thinking of Jeff’s hands, his delicate but strong touch, how it tingled down his spine and stirred his groin.
He tried to banish that memory as Kayla opened the door and let Trixie jump in next to him. The dog ran over to him, as if surprised to find someone else in her spot. Gabriel laughed as Trixie licked his ear and chin.
“Trix, down.” Kayla hopped into the front and slammed the door.
Trixie dropped onto her haunches, taking up most of the back, her head in Gabriel’s lap and tail thumping wildly against the seat. He ran his fingers tentatively over her fur, scratching gently behind her ears.
“Do you have a dog?” Kayla asked, twisting in her seat to look into the back.
An image flashed behind his eyelids, of running and throwing a slim disc, laughter and giggles and furry kisses. Gabriel shook his head, reaching up to massage his suddenly sore forehead. “Oh no. I couldn’t, not in the barracks. And of course, dogs can’t fly. Well, without the proper modifications.” He smiled at Kayla, who grinned back.
Jeff slid into his seat. “Let’s go,” he grunted.
Gabriel watched Jeff’s hands glide along the control board, those strong fingers sure as the truck moved smoothly forward. His face heated and he had to look away, focusing on Trixie, who had sat up at the motion, her paws skittering on the slippery seat.
“What’s it like to fly?”
“Kayla,” Jeff snapped.
“It’s all right,” Gabriel said. It hurt to think about, that he’d never fly again, never feel the rush of air under his wings, the touch of the sun upon his skin. What kind of angel couldn’t fly?
Jeff looked over his shoulder. “It’s not. My fault, we’re not often around polite company.”
“Don’t you go to school?” Even as Gabriel asked the question, he berated himself. Schools had been outdated uplevel for decades now, and he doubted the demons would run any for their subjects.
“Dad teaches me.” Kayla made a face in response.
Jeff snorted. “I imported a teacher AI. Video and audio only. Not putting a damn chip in my kid’s brain.”
“Dad won’t even let me get net ports.” Kayla pointed to the back of her neck.
“Not until you’re thirty-five,” Jeff grumbled under his breath.
Gabriel had so many questions about life down here. Where would Kayla get her ports done? He couldn’t imagine trusting such careful work to a demon. Could it be bought at this market they were traveling to? Could you buy anything the demons stole from the city above?
How much would Gabriel have to pay if he wanted to make a deal with a demon?
Kayla turned back toward Gabriel, after rolling her eyes at her father. “So I’ve only seen angels in vids. Like the set on the downside wars. They always looked so dangerous and perfect.”
“We’re really not much different from you.” Gabriel tried to play off the comment. He was hardly a threat in his current state. But of course she would see him as the enemy, one of those who banished the demons from Heaven above. Gabriel had fought in that battle, just one among the archangel battalion facing off against the demon horde, but he pushed that thought as far away as he could.
“How did you become one?”
Gabriel opened his mouth to answer, but his mind was blank, the hole pulsing with tenderness. He touched his forehead again, wincing at the sudden pain. “It was a long time ago,” he finally choked out.
Trixie whined and put her head on the back of the bench so
Kayla could scratch her chin. “Not long now, girl. She gets impatient in the truck,” Kayla said.
Jeff continued his silence as he guided them through the city, the bones of buildings and row homes all that remained as the truck drove over cracked roads. They came upon a part of the road split by a huge crevasse, a giant tree growing out of the earth. To Gabriel’s surprise, Jeff touched his panel and the truck hovered above the ground long enough to clear the cleft.
The closer they got to the market, the more the city came alive. There were homes and shops, and streetlights illuminating the dim daylight. Everything looked as patchworked and haphazard as Jeff’s junkyard, old brick and wood soldered to modern metal cement. Sometimes it didn’t work quite so well, and he saw crumbled ruins with shiny roofs still intact.
“Can you see?” Kayla pointed out the front window. The market appeared in the distance, a series of tents and brightly colored shacks all surrounded by a long metal fence.
Jeff turned the truck into a lane where a woman stood motioning them over. There were other vehicles parked in rows behind her. Most of them were bikes like the one Jeff’s friends had brought over for repair. Gabriel saw very few as large as Jeff’s truck. “Got cargo for trade,” Jeff said as he got out, showing off whatever he’d loaded underneath the tarp.
Gabriel watched, along with Trixie, peering out the windows and tracking Jeff’s movement. The woman handed him several sheets of perforated metal before pointing to her right.
Jeff opened Kayla’s door. “I need to drop off the scrap metal. You feel up to taking Gabe around?”
Gabriel blinked at the nickname. Jeff had used it before, in front of his friends, but Gabriel didn’t know it would become his new appellation.
“Yes, Dad.” Kayla sounded exasperated and excited at the same time. “We’ll have Trix.”
“Right, how could I forget?” Jeff plucked a corner off his square of metal and handed it to Kayla. “Don’t spend it all on clothes.”
