“That is a good suggestion. I will ask Raphael to return them to my home in Salem, and then they can deploy from there.”
Gabriel shut the lid of the trunk and locked it. “Problem solved.”
Michael smiled. “One of them, at least.”
“Aye. So, did you know that Baxter and Liam are close?”
“Pardon?” Michael looked astonished.
“They got close in Brittany. I reckon they’ll be good for each other.”
Michael frowned. “I see.”
“Why the frown?” Gabriel asked. “I mean, if no one dies, they’ll be great together.”
Michael sighed. “I dislike this talk of my Venatores dying.”
“I know. But it happens to ’em all.” Gabriel pulled Michael back into his arms.
“As you say. I hope that this relationship endures. Baxter has been traumatized by his past.” Michael leaned into Gabriel’s embrace. “It seems we fix one set of worries only for another set to appear.”
“Murphy’s Law,” Gabriel said, and he kissed the top of Michael’s head. “Murphy was a bastard.”
“Language, Gabriel. But I know what you mean.” Michael sighed again and slowly pulled out of Gabriel’s arms. “Shall we return to Yerevan now?”
“Aye, all right.” Gabriel moved to one side of the trunk and took hold of the solid iron handle. When Michael had taken the opposite handle, Gabriel closed the trapdoor above them with a thought, switched off the light, and moved them to Yerevan.
Chapter Five
LYUDMILA WANDERED the corridors of the building she lived in, her thoughts pensive. Had it only been a week since that disastrous trip on the train? It felt like much longer. Her once-quiet home was now a nerve center, a hub of activity with angels, shifters, and demons coming and going at all hours. Arkady’s empty apartment had been turned into a war room with maps and diagrams and who knew what else on the walls and tables, and the landlady was beginning to ask questions Lyudmila didn’t know how to answer.
Michael had assured her that the rent was being paid, along with an extra sum of money to ensure the landlady’s silence, but Lyudmila wasn’t sure that silence would stay bought. Before long, there would be press wandering around, and following the press would be the police. She began to give thought to relocating her people, moving them from Yerevan to somewhere else in Armenia or, if necessary, to Archangelsk in Russia.
“I’ve told her to keep to her own business,” Eleanora said, interrupting Lyudmila’s thoughts.
“Who?” Lyudmila asked.
“The landlady,” Eleanora said. “I had to use magic to dull her curiosity. I do not like doing this, but it was necessary.”
Lyudmila groaned. “That is all we need. I am fearful, Ellie. I am fearful the police will come.”
“Maybe we could ask the Archangels to be more discreet?” Eleanora chuckled suddenly. “Although they are very discreet. The amount of traffic in and out of this building is what is drawing attention.”
“I do not know what to do,” Lyudmila said.
Eleanora pulled her into a hug and Lyudmila leaned into her friend, soaking up the offered comfort gratefully. “There will be a solution,” Eleanora said. “I am certain.”
“I hope you are right.” Lyudmila stepped back. “There are many ill who cannot be moved, and I do not begrudge them that. It is the rest of us who are more able-bodied who should find somewhere more discreet to meet.”
“Perhaps I can be of assistance, ladies.”
The two women turned to face Markus, Ondrass’s personal assistant. As always, he was dressed in an impeccable black suit, shirt, and tie, his close-cropped hair neatly trimmed.
“How?” Lyudmila asked.
“Lord Ondrass has taken a suite at the city’s five-star hotel,” Markus said. “Actually, it’s the whole of the top floor. There are many rooms in the suite; I’m sure we could move a lot of the business from here to there. And it would be far more comfortable. These lodgings may suit you, your majesty, but we demons are used to more luxurious quarters.”
Lyudmila rolled her eyes. “I am sure you are. And were it any other day, I would turn you down.”
“But it isn’t any other day, is it,” Markus said with a small smirk. It wasn’t a question. “You need to divert attention away from this… delightful building of yours, and Lord Ondrass offers a solution.”
Lyudmila and Eleanora exchanged a look.
“What do the Archangels think?” Eleanora asked.
Markus waved a hand. “Tzadkiel seemed to think it was a reasonable suggestion. He seemed to think we’d imposed on your lovely hospitality far too long as it was. Haniel, Remiel, Metatron, and Samael agreed with him, so really, all that remains to be informed of this are their glorious leader, Michael, and his beefcake boyfriend, Gabriel. And Uriel and Raziel, of course, but Uriel is always predictable—he’ll grumble. Raziel will probably see the logic in the offer. Raphael is ridiculously overcome with gratitude, and so it falls to you.”
“Me?” Lyudmila looked astonished. “Why me?”
“Well, this is your home, your majesty. Would you like us to move out?” Markus grinned at her.
Lyudmila blinked. “I wish I could say no,” she said.
“But you can’t.” Markus’s smile grew. “Wonderful. I’ll let everyone know, and we’ll move over to the suite in the hotel. You are, of course, more than welcome to join us for the sessions there.”
“You are too kind,” Lyudmila said.
“I am, really. It’s a curse.” Markus turned and started down the hall. “We’ll be out within the hour.”
“He is very irritating,” Lyudmila said to her friend. Eleanora nodded in agreement.
Piotr came up to them then, his expression one of annoyance. “They are leaving?” he asked without preamble.
“Da,” Lyudmila said.
“Good.” Piotr squared his shoulders. “There is a reporter downstairs. He said he noticed that many people have been coming here, and he wants to know why.”
Lyudmila swore in Russian.
“I know.” Piotr shook his head. “I sent him on his way, but he will return. It would be best, I think, if we sealed up the level with the sick and injured so that Raphael can continue to care for them and went about our lives as if nothing strange was going on. Then he may snoop as he wishes and find nothing to report.”
“Have you spoken to Raphael?” Lyudmila asked.
“Da. He will shield the floor with the sick so that the reporter does not notice it.” Piotr sighed. “It is the best we can do.”
“It is better than I hoped for,” Lyudmila admitted. “Very well. Let us inform the rest of our people and help the Venatores pack things that will need to be removed.”
“It will be a relief to have them all gone, I confess. I am very nervous having so many angels and demons in our building. I feared each moment that there would be a terrible fight and many of us would die,” Piotr said.
“I did also,” Lyudmila said. “I hate that I had these thoughts.”
“It’s natural, chérie,” Eleanora said. “You must care for your people, and they did take over your home.”
“And we are endlessly sorry for the trouble we have caused,” a new voice said. The three turned to see Michael standing not far away. He and Gabriel carried a trunk, and just beyond them stood Uriel and Raziel. “You have my deepest apologies, your majesty. If you require anything of us—anything at all—please do not hesitate to let us know.”
Lyudmila blushed a little. “I wish it were different, most holy,” she began, but Michael cut her off.
“No, it is we who have imposed. Markus, though I am loath to admit it, is right. This hotel that he and Ondrass are staying in will serve our needs admirably. And it will not put a strain on you or your people or draw unwanted attention.”
Lyudmila let out a slow breath. “Thank you for understanding, my lord.”
“You do not need to thank me,” Michael said. “In truth,
it is we who should thank you.” He gave her a small bow. “You have been very kind and gracious in these dark times. Thank you. All of you.”
Lyudmila bobbed a curtsey, noting out the corner of her eye that Eleanora did the same and Piotr bowed low. She hid a smile—it was rare to see Piotr exhibit any respect to anyone, yet Michael seemed to bring it out of him as easily as he brought it out of her.
“You’re still welcome to be a part of our sessions,” Gabriel said. “I mean, you’ve every right. Without you guys, we’d know nothing about this until it was too bloody late.”
“Language, Gabriel,” Michael scolded.
“He’s right.” It was Uriel. “Lyudmila, I know this has been a hard time for you. I get that. But it’d be damn rude of us to shut you out now. So, if you need a lift while I’m here, I’ll take you three over to the hotel and back.”
“And when he and Raziel have gone back in time,” Gabriel said, “I’ll pick up the slack.”
“You are all very kind,” Lyudmila said, feeling as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. “I humbly accept your offer.”
“As do I,” Piotr said.
“And I,” Eleanora agreed.
“Then we shall move everything over and Uriel will return for you. In one hour, Uriel?” When Uriel nodded, Michael continued. “I fear that there will be much to do before we send Raziel, Uriel, Shateiel, Agrat, Lily, Danny, and Angelique back into the past. But once they have gone, we will all be able to rest and regroup before beginning anew the tasks that we must accomplish.”
“We shall be guided by you, most holy,” Lyudmila said.
Michael smiled at her, the smile that never failed to make her feel as if she was being bathed in the light of Heaven. “You and yours are good people, your majesty. We are in your debt.”
THE SUITE of rooms that Ondrass had taken could only be described as opulent—almost ostentatious. Lyudmila shuddered at the wealth displayed so blatantly and, so it seemed to her, carelessly. All of the art and gilt edgings and antiques could be sold and buy things to help the people of Armenia.
Piotr, however, was vocal in his disapproval. He kept up a running commentary as they walked through the suite, muttering his anger to Lyudmila in Russian.
“Piotr,” Lyudmila said finally, “I agree with you. But there is nothing we can do.”
Piotr huffed. “I know. I just find all of this in very bad taste.”
Lyudmila smiled at him as they entered a large boardroom. “As do I, beloved.”
The boardroom table had been pushed back against one wall, leaving most of the space empty, save for the chairs lining the other walls. Ondrass was seated on a chair that was almost a throne, one leg cocked over the arm, sipping from a glass of wine. The bottle rested on a small table inlaid with mother of pearl, and Lyudmila wondered how much this was all costing the Archdemon. He didn’t seem to care about such things, though, smirking as he gazed down at the Archangels, Venatores, shifters, and loved ones that crowded into the room.
“Greetings, all,” Ondrass declared, waving an arm to get everyone’s attention. “Welcome to my humble lodgings here in Yerevan. Please make yourselves at home.”
“We’ll do that,” Uriel growled.
“Uri,” Raziel said softly. Then he raised his voice. “I know you’d love to make this as formal and annoying as possible, Ondrass, but we don’t have time. I’m just going to get to the point, all right?”
Ondrass chuckled. “It’s your show, Raziel. Do continue.”
“Thank you, you’re so kind,” Raziel drawled.
Agrat entered then, with Ishtahar and her sons, Hiwa and Ahijah. Between the four of them, they were carrying two large trunks, very similar to the one that Michael and Gabriel had carried in.
“Sorry we’re late,” Agrat apologized.
“We had to find all the goods that you will need,” Ishtahar explained.
“Thank you both,” Raziel said. Then he moved to the center of the room. “So. We’ll be going back to the year 98 A.D. Joseph will be an old man then, true, but he still has several years left. His mind is still sharp as a tack in this year, so the Dominions tell me. What do we have to help us pass as regular Roman folk?”
Gabriel stepped forward. “I’ve got weapons and armor in that trunk, ’cause Uri and Shateiel will need ’em. Shoes and cloaks, too. Oh, and coins.” He held out two large pouches, and Raziel took them. “I wasn’t sure which Emperor’s reign you’d be in, so you’ve got Nerva, Domitian, and Trajan in there.”
Raziel pursed his lips. “Let’s go with the coins minted during the reigns Domitian and Nerva. I don’t think there’d be any from Trajan in Britannia as yet. The date we’re arriving is only a few months after he ascends the throne.”
“Summer in 98 A.D?” Gabriel asked.
“That’s it, yes,” Raziel said.
“Then you won’t need the smaller of those two pouches,” Gabriel said.
Raziel dutifully handed it back.
Samael stepped forward and held out a small box. “There are coins in here too and a wax tablet and stylus,” he said in his rich, deep voice. “And curse tablets, should Angelique wish to curse anyone. Or Uriel, for that matter,” he added, shooting Uriel a sly grin.
Raziel laughed as he took the box. “I have a feeling all the curse tablets will be used. Thanks, Sammy.”
“There are clothes here,” Agrat said, indicating the trunks she and Ishtahar had brought. “The ladies will need clothing and so will you. Uri and Shay will have their armor, but the rest of you will need civilian dress. There are also things like blankets, furs, plates, bowls, cups, amphorae, daggers, and spoons for eating.”
Raziel beamed at her. “Thank you, Agrat.”
“There’s some feasting gear in my trunk, too,” Gabriel said.
“And you will need a haircut,” Ishtahar said.
Raziel gaped at her. “What?”
Lyudmila hid a laugh at his horrified expression. Ishtahar, however, laughed and shook her head, lightly touching Raziel’s arm.
“Your hair,” Ishtahar said. “It is too long for the guise you propose to adopt. You want to appear as a rich Roman merchant, yes? Then you will need to cut your hair. I have scissors. I can do this for you. Uriel and Shateiel both have no need of a haircut, and Danny will have no problem with his, as he is your servant. But you, dear Raziel, you will need a cut.”
Raziel raised a hand to touch his shoulder-length dark hair. “Do I have to?”
“I am afraid so,” Ishtahar said.
Everyone in the room looked as amused as Lyudmila felt. Raziel sighed, a forlorn little sigh.
“But I love my hair,” he grumbled petulantly.
“It will grow back,” Ishtahar assured him.
“Oh, all right.” Raziel sighed again. “Not one word out of you, fire boy.”
Uriel raised both hands. “Not saying a thing.”
“Good. Keep it that way.” Raziel huffed. “Let us get all of this sorted out, and then Ishtahar can play hairdresser.”
“Of course, Raziel,” Ishtahar said.
“All right.” Raziel ran his hands over his hair again. “Bloody hell. Oh well, it’ll grow.”
“Keep telling yourself that, Razzy,” Uriel said.
“Not one word, I said,” Raziel said.
Uriel laughed.
“Fine. Whatever. I’ve had longer hair for centuries, it’ll feel weird. The things I do for creation,” Raziel grumbled. “And don’t you scold me for being dramatic, Michael.”
“Pardon?”
“I could see you about to do so. I don’t want to hear it.”
Michael blinked. “I see. Forgive me.”
“Shall we get on with this?” Ondrass asked. “As entertaining as Raziel’s impending haircut is, he’s not Samson and he’s not going to lose anything by looking civilized.”
“Shut up,” Raziel growled. “Now, to the more unpleasant part of the proceedings. Lily, Danny, and Agrat, you’ll have to wea
r slave collars. I’m sorry about this. They are for your own safety, as Agrat will be aware. If you wander around without them, you could get into a lot of trouble.”
“I thought that might be the case. Just don’t make them too tight, please?” Lily asked.
“Of course not.” Raziel dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out three collars. They were made of fine brass and clipped together with an intricately worked clasp. Lyudmila thought they looked less like collars and more like elegant pendants. She knew, though, that no matter how attractive they were, what they symbolized was utterly repugnant. She was relieved that she would not be going on this trip back to the past, and the collars only cemented her feelings.
“They look all right,” Danny said. He sounded a little dubious.
“They’re the least offensive and lightest ones I could find,” Raziel said. He looked apologetic. “I really am sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Lily walked to him and took one of the collars from his hand. “It reminds me a little of one of those fine golden torcs the Celts liked.” She fastened it around her neck. “Not too bad. At least it’s not a choke chain.”
“You may be a wolf, my dear Lily,” Raziel said, “but I would never think to collar you with one of those.”
“And I’m very glad of that,” she said with a warm smile. She took another of the collars from Raziel’s hand and held it out to her husband, who put it on. “What do you think?” she asked him.
“Not too bad,” he said. “I’m not used to wearing jewelry, though, of any kind. Just my wedding ring. So it’ll take a bit to get used to, and I know I’ll be glad of it later, but the whole slave thing makes my skin crawl a bit.”
“I know,” Raziel said. “I wish it could be different, but…”
“I understand,” Danny said. “I read up on social history in the library while Lily and Angelique were listening to Penemuel chatter at them. He’s a very talkative angel, isn’t he?”
“Penemuel?” Gabriel asked. “Talkative?”
“Yeah.” Danny turned to look at him. “Don’t you think so?”
The Crystal Lake Page 6
