by Cassie Ryan
Uriel sat without being invited. The stained chair was as uncomfortable as it looked and Uriel suspected it was that way on purpose to give whoever sat here a distinct disadvantage. “What type of things did you have in mind. Even as an Archangel some things are not within my power to give.”
“And some you won’t. I totally understand.” T-Bone leaned forward, the office chair squeaking again with the movement. “What I want is purely personal and won’t affect anyone else’s free will, won’t endanger the balance between good and evil, and according to my research, is definitely within the purview of one such as yourself.”
“Your research?” Uriel raised a single brow as he waited for T-Bone’s answer. Other than the Bible and some scattered sources, there were only myths and legends with bare snippets of truth about him in them.
“The journals.”
“You have more than one?” Uriel asked calmly.
T-Bone shook his head. “Only the one in my possession. But the information the previous one contained is still available for a price.”
Uriel nodded not surprised the information still existed even though he’d recovered that journal. The information age made it highly improbable that purely laying hands on the journal itself would stop the information from getting out. But having the original did ensure he was dealing with the correct translations and the original text that they held.
“I’m not interested in secondhand information. Only the original journals interest me.”
Anticipation sparked inside T-Bone’s eyes and his expression turned shrewd. “I have one journal in my possession and I can contact you if any others come into my hands . . . for a price.”
“Which is?”
“I’ve been blessed with brains and an awareness of some things beyond the purely human realm. However, I was saddled with this body.”
“You want a new body?”
“Not all of it. I only want certain parts enhanced if you get my meaning.”
Uriel frowned. “You want me to enhance the size of your penis.”
“Yeah, man. Skinny white guy with book smarts isn’t exactly a chick-magnet scenario.” He held his hands out to his side, palms up. “If I go for the whole package overhaul, I’d have too much explaining to do and I’d have to fight to prove my dominance. When other guys see a big guy, they always want to kick his ass to prove where they are in the pecking order. I have no desire to get into all those pissing contests. I’m the brains and I know how to make a shitload of money, and the big guys respect that. But if I have something substantial to offer the ladies . . .”
Uriel nodded as the entire picture came clear. “You do understand that size really isn’t everything? Skill, patience, and the willingness to be a very giving lover play a large part.” He shook his head at the odd turn the conversation had taken.
T-Bone waved away Uriel’s advice. “I get that, man. But without the lure, not very many ladies will even give me the chance to hone my skills, if you know what I mean. I can pay for play, but I’d like a woman to be there willingly. Besides, I’d like the chance to build up that skill on my own, if you know what I mean.” T-Bone gave Uriel a leering grin that told him the man needed to hone more than just his sexual skills.
Uriel bit back the urge to explain the dichotomy between T-Bone wanting a woman to desire him for himself and the necessity to have a “lure” to pique her interest. But Uriel needed the journal, and what T-Bone asked was easily within his ability to grant it. He didn’t have time to debate the philosophical issues or wisdom of wishing for a larger cock with a fence named T-Bone. “Do you have the journal?”
T-Bone unlocked his top desk drawer and pulled out a slim leather journal with a worn blue cover. He held it up and wiggled it back and forth in the air between them. “Right here. Do we have a deal?”
“If that is the journal I seek, then we have a deal.” He held out his hand and waited until T-Bone laid the journal on his outstretched palm. As soon as he touched it, he knew this was the right journal. The words written within had power and just like the other one, that power beat against his hand in tangible waves.
For appearance’s sake, he flipped through the pages, impatient to find some time to spend reading the journal and deciphering its messages.
He glanced across the desk at T-Bone as he secreted the journal away inside an inner pocket of his suit jacket. “Imagine what you’d like vividly inside your mind and it will be yours. But make sure that’s what you really want. There is no return policy on a gift such as this.”
T-Bone grinned and stood as he held out a hand to Uriel. “I’ve been imagining exactly what I’d like for a long time.” He shook Uriel’s hand with a clammy palm and weak grip. “Nice doing business with you. How do I contact you if I find another journal?”
“A simple prayer using my name will be enough to summon me. Good luck.” As Uriel closed the door behind him, he heard the distinctive sound of a zipper unzipping and shook his head, glad he would miss the unveiling.
4
Semiazas.
Uriel sensed him as soon as he stepped out into the hallway. The fallen’s energy signature was as familiar to Uriel as Raphael’s or Gabriel’s or Michael’s. After all, until the mutiny against their Father, in which Semiazas followed Lucifer, Semiazas was a cherished brother and friend. But too many eons of betrayal and bad blood stood between them now to ever reconcile things back to the way they had been.
Resigned to the conflict ahead, Uriel walked down the hallway past Sidney and back into the waiting bar.
Semiazas stood in the center of the room, a caricature of a biker badass. The strobing neon lights from the bar signs flashed illumination over him at different intervals, making him look even more menacing.
Whereas his normal form was tall and graceful, the one he resided in now was stocky and bulky, easily two times Diesel’s size and muscle. His normally dark medium-length hair was now close cropped and tattoos covered every inch of exposed skin including his face and neck. He wore black leather from head to toe including shit-kicker boots, which reminded Uriel of Raphael’s normal outfit of choice.
The humans had stepped back away from Semiazas leaving a several-foot clear circle around him. A quick gesture from Semiazas and the thumping music died away leaving only a strained silence inside the close-packed bar.
“Uriel.” Semiazas sketched a courtly bow, which looked odd in his present form. “I’ve been waiting for you. All that business with T-Bone’s cock all cleared up?”
A titter flowed through the watching crowd at the obvious implication.
“Did you let him have a test run? Is that what took you so long in there?”
Unconcerned with the glances and derisive sounds sent his way, Uriel kept the demon’s gaze while staying alert to every person in the bar. “What can I do for you, Semiazas? I have pressing business elsewhere.”
Semiazas laughed. “I’ll just bet you do.” He thrust his hips forward several times as if air humping someone in front of him. The appreciative crowd laughed but kept the volume low as if afraid to miss any of the byplay between the two.
Uriel sighed. The necessity of dealing with Semiazas’s dramatics grated on his nerves. Semiazas had always been this way, even before the fall, although he’d gotten even more irritating since then. “Interesting costume. A little cliché, don’t you think?”
“You don’t like it?” Semiazas glanced down at himself as if admiring a new suit. “It works for Sidney over there.” He gestured toward the man who stiffened and glared as the crowd laughed and jeered.
Sidney started forward and Uriel held out a hand, stopping the man’s forward motion. “He’s mine, Diesel,” he said pointedly using the man’s chosen name.
Sidney didn’t look happy about it, but he slowly nodded and stepped back. “I’ll take whatever’s left of him when you’re done, man. Besides, I want to see a dude fight in those fancy threads you’ve got going on.”
The crowd laughed, a general murmur of agreement
flowing around the room.
Uriel knew Semiazas hadn’t come for the journal. The information contained inside had already made its way into the world. His reasons for being here had to be for something else, although with Semiazas the reason could be anything between something of huge significance all the way down to pure boredom. “What do you want, Semiazas?”
“I want so many things, none of which you are either willing or able to give me.” He shrugged, dark amusement shining in his eyes. “Why is that, Uriel?”
“Because you want things you’ve no right to.” Uriel knew he shouldn’t be drawn in to a banter session with Semiazas, but he wanted to try to find some way to diffuse the violence he knew the demon was trying to incite inside the tiny bar.
“You know what I think?” Semiazas countered. “I think it’s because you’re frustrated. Frustrated because you don’t have the mojo to keep your woman happy. Is that why she left you for a woman?”
The resulting “oooh” from the crowd ratcheted the tense atmosphere, and Uriel sighed at the senseless violence he knew was coming regardless of what he did in the next few minutes. Semiazas wanted nothing less than a bloody, violent bar fight.
“Is that what forced you to come here and let a skinny-assed geek like T-Bone bend you over a desk to get off?”
The jeers from the crowd reached a full-scale frenzy until Semiazas held up his hand to quiet his growing group of supporters.
“This is between you and me. Leave everyone else out of it.” Uriel meant the humans who stood to be hurt from the coming conflict, but he knew to the crowd it sounded like he was defending himself against Semiazas’s accusations.
“But they’re very much a part of this, Uriel. Lilith has had to resort to fucking Gabriel full-time, you know. In fact, they’re together right now. Two beautiful women.” He grabbed his crotch and rubbed his hard cock through the tight leathers. “I can just picture all those ripe, lush curves pressed together as they both wished you had balls enough to wade in and fuck them both properly.”
The taunt hit home, and without thinking Uriel tossed back, “At least I’d be welcome between either of their thighs if I chose. Didn’t Gabriel ban you from her bed long ago? And Lilith has never even offered.”
Semiazas’s form wavered as actual fire flashed from his eyes. Uriel had definitely pressed the right button to throw the fallen off his game.
The crowd of humans took a collective step back as an aura of pure evil crackled through the bar. Even those with no sensitivity probably felt the neck ruffling sensation that was hardwired inside every human to recognize evil.
Semiazas’s form solidified as he gained control of his temper. “That was because Gabriel still doesn’t see the truth, but she will. All of you soon will. But right now it’s down to you and me . . . brother.”
Uriel’s temper flared. “Don’t ever call me that. You’ve no right,” he bit out.
“You can’t choose your family, or deny them, Uriel. No matter how much our Father wishes it so.”
“Enough.” Uriel made a slashing gesture in the air in front of him. “I’m done with this, Semiazas. This fight is between you and me. Leave everyone else out of it.”
“You don’t make these rules. I do . . . brother,” Semiazas said inside Uriel’s mind. Out loud he said, “Free will is a wondrous thing.” He grinned, his gaze locked onto Uriel’s face. “To every person here who brings me a piece of Uriel, I’ll give a thousand dollars.”
There was a split second of shock as the crowd digested the meaning behind Semiazas’s offer before they began to close in on Uriel from all sides, separating him from Semiazas with a sea of humanity.
Uriel cursed under his breath as he materialized his twin daggers. The same daggers that had meted out the justice his Father had decreed since well before the very first human had walked the planet.
His anger flared and he let loose his power that he usually dampened so he blended in better walking among the humans.
Energy crackled the air so thick every person in the room now knew he was something more than he’d first appeared, but that did little to thin the surrounding crowd. “Think about what you do and make your choice. No mercy will be given if you choose this path freely.” As soon as his words died away, he anchored his left foot and kicked out in a wide arc with his right driving back the crowd while he slashed out with his daggers, slicing a path around him and felling several humans in the process. Those left standing lunged back just out of his reach as the injured crawled or were pulled back away from the battle.
The crowd around him thinned only a little now that he’d proved himself capable of fighting back. Although the biggest and strongest found their way to the front, the others hoping to take advantage of any injuries those in front of them could inflict on him.
Uriel resisted the urge to glare at Semiazas. The effort would be wasted and he had enough to keep him busy right here. Someone jumped him from behind, knocking him forward into those unlucky enough to try and attack from the front.
Uriel let his anger flow and began to fight in earnest. Reaching back, careful to keep his grip on his dagger, he grabbed the man still clinging to his back. He yanked the man forward, over his head and tossed him into the crowd in front of him, knocking them back. Others closed in, but Uriel let his instincts take over, kicking, punching, dodging, slashing in a fluid motion that only millennia of fighting could bring.
It took less than a minute to scatter the sea of human bodies around him and make his way to where Semiazas had stood, but not surprisingly, the fallen had disappeared.
Uriel sensed movement behind him and whirled to find Sidney grabbing his would-be assailant by the back of the jacket and delivering a hard knee to the gut. The man’s air whooshed out and Diesel dropped him to the ground.
Uriel met Sidney’s gaze. “Thank you.”
Sidney stepped close and held out his hand. “You’re the first person to ever say I didn’t do that robbery all those years ago. I hadn’t realized how much it would mean to me to have someone . . . anyone say that. I’m in your debt.”
Uriel shook Sidney’s hand. “Let’s call it even.” He nodded toward the man Sidney had just downed.
“You could’ve handled him yourself. Just call it a token gesture of thanks, man.”
Uriel nodded his agreement and walked out of the bar, stepping over injured humans who still cluttered the path. Outside, everyone gave him a wide berth and he strode across the street back to where he’d started.
He had the journal, now he needed to shut himself away and study its entries. He should go straight home and get to work.
But something else vied for his attention besides the weight of the leather journal in the breast pocket of his suit coat.
Memories of Semiazas’s taunting words about Lilith and Gabriel rang in his ears churning acid through his gut. Which was exactly what the fallen had hoped to do—distract Uriel.
“Damn it. It’s fucking working.”
The Archangel Gabriel materialized just outside Lilith’s quarters and knocked lightly, anticipation jangling inside her belly. She hadn’t seen Lilith in nearly twelve hours, and the Queen of the Succubi and Incubi had become something of an obsession for her over the past few days.
With all the odd happenings lately, Armageddon might be coming sooner rather than later, so Gabriel vowed to take what happiness she could before the end of the human realm came.
The door in front of her opened to reveal a stunning succubus with long chestnut hair that fell in waves past her well-shaped ass. Her eyes were the color of rich milk chocolate and her skin held the ethereal perfection all the succubi shared.
“Jezebeth.” Gabriel nodded in greeting. The succubus before her had been the first of the four sisters to make it back safely to Lilith’s lair with her protector, Noah.
Jezebeth nodded and dropped her gaze—a sign of respect. “Gabriel. Please, come in.” She held the door wide and stepped back so Gabriel could enter.
Lilith sat in an overstuffed chair near the fire, her feet tucked up under her, her black hair pinned on top of her head as if she soon planned a dip in the swirling hot springs that graced the back corner of her quarters. Sexy, long tendrils of hair had escaped the clip to wisp around Lilith’s heart-shaped face, and Gabriel tightened her hands into fists to keep from plunging her fingers into the silky mass while Jezebeth was still in the room.
Gabriel’s recent time spent in Lilith’s quarters had to be a well-known “secret” among the denizens of Lilith’s lair, but Gabriel wouldn’t tarnish Lilith’s authority by flaunting it in front of anyone, especially since Lilith had been through enough already during her long existence.
The Archangel Uriel had interceded for Lilith back at the Garden of Eden and vowed before God that he would keep her supplied with sustenance so she could survive. To further complicate matters, relations between the Archangels and any other nonhumans, including each other, were forbidden. It had been difficult for Uriel to reconcile his two sets of vows until he’d found a loophole. He facilitated sexual sessions between Lilith and others, including humans, demons, and a whole host of other supernaturals. He watched and pleasured himself but didn’t participate. The sexual energy he gave off from his completion was more than enough to feed Lilith and still technically stayed within the boundaries of his vows.
The complicated relationship between Uriel and Lilith meant both had spent countless miserable millennia owing to Uriel’s adherence to his vows before God.
Finally, last week, Lilith had decided she’d hurt Uriel and herself enough and had asked Uriel to send Gabriel to her . . . alone.
The past week had been the happiest Gabriel could remember. And while she still harbored guilt over enjoying relations with another supernatural, she had found her own loophole. Since she and Uriel were close, Uriel had bid her come and care for Lilith as he would himself, which gave her leeway inside that same loophole Uriel had used.
Lilith glanced up, and as her gaze met Gabriel’s, a slow smile spread across her face.
