“That’s true,” Agrat conceded.
“So how far are we from the giants?” Lilith asked.
Arthur grinned. “Just through these trees, and we’ll be at their camp.”
Lilith beamed. “Oh, I can hardly wait. I feel as if I should run to them. I do hope that they will not hate me.”
“I don’t think they will, Lilitu,” Agrat said. “The story of what happened when you were banished from Eden is well known everywhere.”
“Mother used to tell it to us,” Morgana said. “She thought it was funny.”
Lilith rolled her eyes. “She was an idiot. No offense.”
“None taken,” Arthur said.
They continued to walk, and when the meadow gave way to trees, they walked in single file, passing through the broad trunks and shady coolness of the small wood. When the trees thinned out, they were on a plateau, and several hundred feet away, the mountains reared toward the sky, topped with snow and majestic as any that Agrat had seen in her long, eternal life.
“Oh!” Lilith gasped, and Agrat turned to see what had caught her sister’s attention. Standing in a group not far away was a group of perhaps twenty giants, and they were watching them with expressions of curiosity and wariness.
Lilith was moving before anyone could say anything, her long auburn hair fanning behind her in the breeze that cropped up. She moved to the giants and dropped to her knees before them. Then she began to speak. Agrat couldn’t hear the words, but she imagined her sister was speaking in the ancient language of the giants. To judge from the expressions of astonishment on the faces of those who faced her, Lilith’s words were having quite an effect on them.
“Should we join them?” Arthur asked.
“No,” Agrat said. “Let her have this. She’s had to live a very long time with the knowledge that her children were dead. This is like a homecoming for her.”
“How many years, Auntie Aggie?” Morgana asked.
Agrat calculated it. “Probably a good couple of million as the humans manage years.”
“That long?” Arthur gasped.
“Some things one does not ever fully heal from,” Agrat said. “Some wounds remain unclosed forever.” She smiled as she looked at Lilith, being drawn to her feet by a pair of giantesses. “And I think now she is finally getting the closure she needs and the forgiveness that she has felt she does not deserve.”
“Did you have children?” Morgana asked.
“You’re full of questions today, child,” Agrat teased, and Morgana blushed and looked down at her feet. “Now, now, that was not a scold. It’s all right.” Agrat pulled Morgana into her arms and hugged her. “In answer to your question, no, I do not. Angels are barren—we are unable to procreate. God made us that way after Semjaza married Ishtahar in Eden and other Grigori had human women bear their children.”
“The Nephilim,” Arthur said. “We know that story too.”
“And that is why we are barren.” Agrat shrugged. “I spend my time working with abused humans and providing safe houses for them. It is something they need and something I can do, and I am happy to do it. Ishtahar is a dear friend, and she and I work together on this.”
“You’re a good soul, Auntie Aggie,” Morgana said, hugging Agrat back. “I’m so glad we know you.”
“And I’m glad I know you too.” Agrat reached out and pulled Arthur closer, hugging her niece and nephew as she watched the giants embrace Lilith not far away. “Very glad indeed.”
LYUDMILA TRUDGED up the last flight of stairs, her arms aching from the weight of the grocery bags she was carrying. Life had indeed returned to normal, she thought tiredly as she paused on the landing. It was another day in Yerevan, reading the letters and petitions from the various clans that looked to her for leadership, housecleaning, and grocery shopping.
She started walking and made her way to her front door. Before she could set down one of the bags to dig her keys out of her jacket pocket, the door opened. Piotr stood there.
“I heard you coming,” he said. He took the bags from her.
“And you could not come and help me with these before?” Lyudmila asked. She sighed and entered her home and Piotr shouldered the door closed.
“It seems dull and ordinary now, does it not?” Piotr asked her. He went into their tiny kitchen and Lyudmila could hear him rummaging around the cupboards and putting the groceries away. “Now the Archangels and the Archdemons and their companions are all gone.”
“A little, perhaps,” Lyudmila said. “I still have much work to do, however. I have the e-mail from the King of the Australia-New Zealand Weres—he wants to send a delegation to interrogate the weres in Paris. And the clans in Mongolia want us to intervene in their dispute with the Siberian clans whose lands border their own.”
“Not to mention the usual small and petty concerns of our people here?” Piotr asked.
“Da.” Lyudmila chuckled as her cat jumped onto the sofa. She sat down and the animal walked over to her, climbed into her lap, and curled into a ball, promptly falling asleep. She gently petted its soft fur. “I will adjust.”
Piotr came back into the room and sat down on the vinyl beanbag. He held two cans of soda and placed one on the coffee table, pushing it across to Lyudmila with his foot.
“So genteel,” she said, deadpan.
Piotr laughed. “We are in our home, in private, dushenka.”
“I suppose.” Lyudmila picked up the can and opened it. The cat shifted in her lap and she took a drink of soda.
“What will we do tomorrow?” Piotr asked.
“What we did before all the adventuring,” Lyudmila said. “There will be a conference, I am certain. But I do not know where or when that will be. The other Kings and Queens will wish to discuss all that has happened, and I hope that there will be some plans made for peace between those clans that are still embroiled in fights.”
“Peace would be something new,” Piotr said.
“You make it sound like a novelty,” Lyudmila said. She took another drink from the soda. “I am weary, Piotr. There has been so much death and loss, and there has been so much terror. We lost one who we thought was our dear friend. I am unable to fully grieve the loss of Arkady, for he is responsible for much of the pain endured.”
“Arkady!” Piotr broke off into a string of invective, cursing for a solid ten minutes without repeating himself. Lyudmila was privately impressed at his inventiveness as he cursed Arkady, his family, his honor, and his hygiene without pausing for breath. Finally, Piotr finished and shook his head. “We can do nothing for him. I am glad he is dead. I am gladder still that I was able to kill him down in Purgatory, though my doing that was lost among the chaos of the battle. He deserves nothing more, and we should do nothing more for him.”
“No, but we can do something for those who thought he was their friend,” Lyudmila said. “There were others who cared for him. Olga, for one.”
“I had forgotten. You are right. We must do something to help those who mourn him far more deeply than we do,” Piotr said.
“I am open to suggestions.” Lyudmila pet her cat, and the soft purring response was a soothing sound, making her feel less miserable than she had been all day.
“Lyudmila, you are unhappy,” Piotr said. “I can see this. And it is not just because of Arkady or the ennui of everyday, ordinary life here in Yerevan. You are feeling uncertain for the unknown, for we are approaching a new century and with that, I think, will be a new beginning, a new life path for all of us. We must be strong and endure whatever comes our way, for although we live here in Armenia, we are Russian.”
“And Russians endure everything and anything, I know.” Lyudmila smiled faintly. “But you are right, solnyshko. I am feeling out of sorts. I am also feeling dread.”
“Dread? Why?”
“There will be a funeral, Piotr. A large one. We have not yet honored those shifters who died in Paris. The King of the Australia-New Zealand Weres will want a state funeral for them, an
d he is within his rights to demand one. We will all have to pay homage to those who have died and they deserve this. But they should have a memorial, somewhere that people may gather to pay their respects, and where would such a thing be built? It will be a lot to do, and I fear the message of their sacrifice will be lost.”
“Hm. Perhaps. Still, you cannot do anything about it yet. Present your point at the conference and perhaps a decision will be made to install a memorial somewhere in Paris. Or”—Piotr’s expression grew impish—“ask Lord Raziel and Lord Uriel to attend and put forth their ideas.”
Lyudmila stared at him for a long moment, and then she began to laugh. “Lord Raziel and Lord Uriel would scandalize the conference!”
“Perhaps they need this too,” Piotr said. “There is time for grief, da, but there is also time for joy. We must not neglect one for the other.”
Lyudmila felt a surge of affection for him fill her. “You are absolutely right,” she said. “I will send Lord Raziel an e-mail now.”
“There, you see? It is not all bad,” Piotr said.
“SO IT’S all fixed, then?” Max leaned against the lintel as Gabriel finished relating the tale of the fight down in Purgatory.
“Aye, all fixed,” Gabriel said. “And I’m here to take our two Venatores back to Oregon.”
“We’re not ready to go yet,” Alethia said.
Gabriel blinked in surprise. “You’re not?”
“No. We need to stay a little longer. And yeah, we’ve talked it over with Max and Minnie, because they’re awesome. We need to learn about tech from Max and magic from Minnie. I’ve got a report you can pass on to Michael, though, that outlines my suggestion that these two should teach courses to the Venatores on basic magic and tech.”
Gabriel stared at her. “That’s an innovative idea,” he said. “And a damn good one. All right, I’ll sign off on that. Give me the report, and I’ll pass it on.” He shot a sidelong look at Max and Minnie. “You two know, right, that if Mike goes for this—and I can’t see why he wouldn’t—you’d get a stipend from him?”
“Like a wage?” Minnie asked. “He doesn’t have to do that, Gabe.”
“Aye, like a wage, and of course he bloody does! For supplies if nothing else. We can’t always be ’porting to deserts to get you lightning-made crystals, y’know,” Gabriel said.
Minnie laughed. “Okay, that’s a fair point. But still, supplies wouldn’t cost that much.”
“And to pay for groceries, ’cause these Venatores know how to eat,” Gabriel said. He grinned at Alethia and Tommy. “How much did you eat while you were here?”
“A cow each,” Tommy deadpanned. “It was bloody fantastic. Got blood everywhere.”
Alethia lightly swatted his knee. “Be serious, babe.”
Tommy laughed. “I couldn’t resist. Really, Gabe, what do you think we are? Bottomless bloody pits?”
“Still. There are proprieties, and I’m old, so you’ll do as I say,” Gabriel said.
Tommy saluted. “Okay, boss.”
“How is Mike, anyway?” Minnie asked.
“Cranky.” Gabriel shrugged. “He’s a terrible patient. I remember once, after the war, he had a cold. He complained all the time he was conscious, and then he pouted. In the end, I had to pour soup down his gullet.”
Everyone laughed.
“Down his gullet? Really?” Max asked.
“Well, practically. But he’s getting better. He should be out and about tomorrow, I reckon. Raph’s given him the all clear, so he’s good to go. He’ll be glad to get the report,” Gabriel said, looking at Alethia.
“I’ll go get it for you,” she said. She stood up and left the room.
“So the world is safe and everything is whole again,” Max mused. “Did we ever learn about that guy in the security photos?”
“Oh right, him. Yeah. He and his twin sister are the kids of the recently deceased Naamah. She was using them to do her dirty work,” Gabriel said. “They’re actually pretty innocent, both in soul and knowledge. Agrat and Lilith are spending a lot of time with them down in Purgatory. Once we knew their story and examined their souls, it didn’t seem right to kill ’em for things that were beyond their control. Naamah did a lot of terrible things, aye, but the most intimate of evil things were done to her kids. They need to heal and they need the peace and comfort they get from being in Purgatory. So that’s where they’ll stay. Where they want to stay.”
“Huh. How about that,” Max said. “Well then, I’m glad that everything worked out the way it was supposed to.”
“Amen to that,” Gabriel said.
Alethia came back into the room then holding a sheaf of paper. “Here, Gabe,” she said, handing it to him. “And give our love to Mike, please?”
Gabriel took it and stood up. “Aye, I will. You kids take care of yourselves and holler when you’re ready to leave.”
“Will do,” Alethia said.
Gabriel gave them all a deep bow. “It’s my honor to know you all,” he said, “and an even greater one to call you all my friends. I’ll see you kids soon.” With that he vanished, teleporting straight to Belle Coeur and his beloved Michael.
Chapter Nineteen
MICHAEL WAS waiting for him when Gabriel returned. He smiled in greeting and waved the report Alethia had given him. Michael raised an eyebrow as he waved a hand in return.
“What is that?” Michael asked.
“It’s Alethia’s report.” Gabriel briefly explained what had happened at the home of Max and Minnie and Michael nodded slowly.
“I see. Her suggestion is a good one. When we return to Oregon, I will examine the books and spreadsheets and work out a plan. And you are right, I will pay Max and Minnie for their time and resources. It is only proper.”
“I said you would. They’re good people, don’t you think?”
“Max and Minnie? Indeed they are.” Michael took the report. “I will just put this in the study and read through it after the evening meal while you are having your run.”
“Okay.” Gabriel watched Michael go indoors, a fond expression on his face. He felt good. All the traumas and problems of the last several decades had been solved, and he had the feeling that the future was going to be a good one, a positive one. They needed that, he thought. Not just the Archangels, but the rest of angelkind, and all of Hell, Purgatory, and Earth as well.
He leaned back against the wall of the house looking out over the rainforest that seemed to begin almost at the edge of the porch. There was something about Belle Coeur, something that always soothed his soul and his Grace. Even before his relationship with Michael had begun, Gabriel had taken solace in his island, soaking up the peaceful serenity of the place, the warm welcomes of dolphins and the raucous but no less warm welcomes of the birds and other animals that lived inland. The scent of exotic flowers was a heady intoxicant, sweet and lovely, and Gabriel breathed deeply, inhaling not just the perfume of the plants but the salt tang of the sea.
Hearing Michael return to the porch where Gabriel lingered, leaning against the wall, Gabriel smiled to himself. He straightened and stepped away from the wall, turning to face his lover, only to find himself being shoved back against the wall, Michael gripping his hips.
“Michael?” Gabriel asked.
“Hush,” Michael said. His voice was low and rough. It sent a shiver down Gabriel’s spine.
Before Gabriel could press the issue, Michael was on him, kissing him, roaming his hands over Gabriel’s chest and shoulders. For one tiny moment, Gabriel considered pushing Michael away and saying no, Michael wasn’t healed, but Michael was insistent and Gabriel had missed feeling his lover like this.
He kissed Michael back, and Michael growled, a primitive sound that came from deep in his chest and skipped Gabriel’s ears entirely, going straight to his dick. Gabriel whimpered, the whimper turning into a ragged moan as Michael slowly ran one hand down Gabriel’s body, little trickles of power in the wake of his touch removing all of Gabriel’s c
lothes.
Naked, pressed between the solid hardness of the wall of the house and the firm warmth of Michael’s still-dressed body, Gabriel lost all ability to think anything beyond a single word: want.
Michael stepped back and Gabriel, panting, could see that his lover’s cheeks were flushed and his pupils dilated. Michael’s gaze raked Gabriel’s body and Gabriel bit his lower lip, feeling his cock twitch as Michael’s heated stare lingered on Gabriel’s groin. Unable even now to stop preening, Gabriel spread his legs a little and rolled his shoulders, flexing his muscles. A soft whimper came from Michael, and Gabriel suddenly realized that his lover was trembling.
“Solnyshko,” Gabriel said, holding out one hand.
Michael took it, coming to him eagerly, and Gabriel used his own power to get his lover naked. As soon as they were skin to skin, Michael moaned and Gabriel could feel just how hard for him Michael was.
“Inside or outside?” Gabriel asked, teasing the edges of Michael’s wing joints with the tips of his fingers.
“G-Gabriel,” Michael panted, rubbing against him. “Inside.”
“Okay.” Gabriel moved them to the bed and then groaned, for as soon as they were vertical on the bed, Michael’s teeth were on his neck. He tilted his head, trembling as Michael bit him hard and letting out a rough cry as he felt those teeth break his skin.
Michael echoed the cry, and through their bond, Gabriel could feel just how much Michael wanted—needed—this. Michael had chafed at the restrictions put upon him in order for his body to heal from his injuries, but his love and his need had chafed for entirely different reasons. Without the intimacy that the two of them enjoyed, Michael had felt off-kilter, out of sorts, craving physical contact. He had not known that was the cause of the feeling, nor had he known how to articulate what he was enduring, and Gabriel had been completely unaware.
Gabriel squashed the flare of guilt that rose within him for not being more attentive. They had been together, there was no one to blame for this. It was simply another aspect of their relationship, and in the future, should one or the other be injured, they would have to take care not to neglect the physical side of their relationship. Even something as simple as a hug could give a great deal of comfort, and Gabriel realized the lack of this had been part of his own frustrations when he had been recovering from his own war wounds, received in battle with Semjaza and Azazel not so long ago.
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