Sacred Cups (Seven Archangels Book 2)

by Jane Lebak

Empowered and burning like a torch, Gabriel ventured again into the star field then paused, looked back over his shoulder at Raphael. Flushed, Gabriel returned to Raphael and took him by the hand to show him everything. Raphael followed, listening to Gabriel machine-gunning descriptions of the different kinds of singularities, of the ripples in space and the way things nestled within them. When they reached something Gabriel didn't understand, the Cherub overflowed his own mind and annexed Raphael's intelligence, and then they both were learning.

  Gabriel’s eyes glowed. Taking a deep breath, he half-closed his eyes and tilted up his chin ever so slightly as if swallowing, and started exuding rings.

  Wide-eyed, Raphael let the first one ripple past, then scrambled to catch the last part of the second pulse, and by the third he’d opened wide and absorbed the rings into himself.

  Because— He’d thought— He hadn’t dared to hope— He’d figured it would never happen again, but here was Gabriel, casting rings for him, and—

  Gabriel resonated now with a richness Raphael hadn’t felt for six hundred years. For centuries, Gabriel must have been suppressing parts of himself to protect Raphael from having to be ashamed of him. The trees—had he hidden his trees only to protect Raphael? But now he was opening wide so Raphael could see all of him, and in response Raphael gave Gabriel complete access to his soul, to his deepest regrets about not having been there for him. Gabriel let him feel for the first time how pivotal, how important it had been that he come under God’s discipline and learn, really learn, humility.

  Gabriel looked him in the eyes, and Raphael felt Gabriel saying thank you, but in his heart he wasn’t sure if the one saying it wasn’t himself.

  #

  After two days, Michael went looking for them. He found them rearranging the singularities in the star field and gauging the different ways space bent around them and what that did to a river of stardust.

  Sensing Michael, they turned simultaneously, the same motion, the same relaxed expression on their faces, and even the same features.

  Michael gave a relieved sigh.

  Gabriel flashed to him and touched wingtip to wingtip, then took Michael’s hands in his own. There had been so many unspoken words, so many assumptions, so many little avoidances; Gabriel was projecting sadness and wonderment even as he put it into Michael’s heart. There had been so many things they’d avoided talking about for so long, but they were covering it all, all the things they hadn’t even realized they’d been avoiding, the way they’d both assumed the blame for the other’s feelings, all the little hurts that had added up to one tremendous alienation and a breach of trust.

  Michael squeezed Gabriel’s hands, then looked up to meet Raphael’s eyes, and he thanked God for an answered prayer.

  Gabriel gave a little tug, and Michael let the Cherub bring him out into the star field to see, see what Raphael had given him and all the things they’d discovered together.

  Twenty-Four

  Gabriel and Raphael received the summons at the same time, and they flashed to Jesus where he stood with the eleven disciples and his mother on the top of a hill at Bethany.

  Uriel took Gabriel’s hand, and when Gabriel smiled, so did the Throne. Mary noticed them and looked relieved.

  Jesus spoke to the eleven, words for each of the men, a kiss on the cheek. He hugged his mother and kissed her on both cheeks, then stepped back.

  Mary was struggling to keep her face passive, but her mouth kept twisting. This was it. She knew it, and Gabriel moved nearer to her even though some pain even angels couldn’t deflect.

  Peter asked if now was the time to restore the Kingdom of Israel, and Jesus said no. “It’s not for us to know the time. That’s under the Father’s authority. But I’m sending the Holy Spirit, and He’ll fill you with power so you can go tell the story all through Jerusalem and Samaria and Judea and even to the ends of the world.”

  Then, before the disciples, he rose off the ground.

  They watched him, the eleven men and Mary, and Raphael went with him, but Gabriel stayed at Mary’s side to give strength to her heart. That’s the sword. Her soul’s been pierced.

  Beside Gabriel, Uriel said, “Men of Galilee? Why are you looking up into the sky?”

  The disciples all turned, and Mary turned toward Uriel too, meeting her guardian’s eyes.

  Uriel said, “Jesus has been taken up into Heaven, and he’ll come back to you in the same way.”

  The disciples looked startled, but then Uriel vanished from their sight. Gabriel stayed close to Mary. He won’t leave you orphaned.

  Mary replied, An orphan has no parents. But there’s no word for a mother whose child is gone.

  It’s hard being apart, even though you know he’s waiting for you, Gabriel sent. Pray and wait for the Spirit. He’s the Consoler and sanctifier. I’m sorry you can’t be together.

  The disciples returned to Jerusalem. God called Gabriel back to Jesus’s side.

  Gabriel reappeared in the remnants of Sheol, now cleared out of the air. Ophaniel reported immediately that by their calculations, they’d secured anywhere between 99.97% of the particles and 104%. “We can’t get a more specific measurement,” he added.

  Jesus moved among the people again, but this time there was no tension, only joy. These were the ones who had lived well and lived generously, who had always tried to do what was right even when they didn’t know what it might be. They’d followed the natural law, and then when offered the chance to hear the news, had heard it with joy and chosen to be with God. An extension, really, of the decisions they’d been making all their lives.

  “Now,” Jesus called, “come with me! Come and share your master’s joy!”

  He rose above them all, and the souls followed, human souls and angel souls. He extended his arms, and then they were no longer in the void where Sheol used to be but outside the front gates of Heaven. Zadkiel and Saraquael opened the gates, and Jesus led the stream of souls through.

  Some angels began playing music while others sang, and they ushered in the human souls. There were reunions and embraces and congratulations. Raphael left Jesus’s side and went to stand with Gabriel.

  Jesus took a seat at a raised throne, and God the Father said, “This is my Son, your King.”

  The angels cheered. The humans did the same.

  Jesus said, “And now — play!”

  Raphael laughed out loud, and the party began.

  The more curious human souls began exploring Heaven, and angels volunteered to show them around. Others remained, socializing or asking questions. Gabriel started fielding requests from people who wanted to learn everything, everything about the universe right now, and he found himself barraged with requests for tours of his library.

  “I hope I can have a chance too,” said a voice at his side, and he turned to find Tobias.

  Raphael joined them. “Tobias,” he said, “son of Tobit, you’ve met my friend, Gabriel. Thank you.” He swallowed. “Thank you for looking out for him at a time when I couldn’t.”

  Michael appeared at Gabriel’s side. He had a new sword in its scabbard, embellished with a cross. “Jesus wants you to come to the front.”

  Jesus had a group of angels standing with him, waiting their turns. Nivalis knelt before him, he with his hands on her head. She kept her arms crossed over her chest while he blessed her, and then he released her and she stood. When she saw Gabriel and Raphael, she went to them.

  Her uniform had changed to black and silver, and she wore a black armband. “I’m so sorry about Judas,” Gabriel said again.

  She looked sad, but solid. “I’ve asked permission… I’m not the only one who lost her charge. There’s lots of us, and more will come in the future. So I’ve gotten permission to form a new team of angels. The grief squad. So we can help others through when the worst happens.”

  Raphael hugged her, and she melted against his shoulder. “It doesn’t make it good,” she whispered, and her voice broke. “But helping others makes it
better.”

  Remiel was standing in front of Jesus now, receiving new earrings and a new sword, and finally a kiss on the cheek. When she stepped away, Jesus said, “Ah, Gabriel. You’re next.”

  Gabriel stepped forward and bowed. Jesus said, “Did Uriel tell them that just as they saw me leave, I’d return the same way?”

  “Uriel told them that.”

  Jesus said, “And when that happens, would you agree I’ll need someone to announce my coming?”

  Gabriel frowned. “I disagree. Surely you as the Divine Word don’t need anyone to announce anything,” and Jesus laughed out loud.

  “You’d agree it’s fitting, though,” Jesus said, and Gabriel replied, “You already know I’d agree to that.”

  Jesus pressed a hand against Gabriel’s chest, then pulled back to draw light from his heart. Before Gabriel’s wide eyes, he opened his hands, and there appeared a silver device. Gabriel gasped as Jesus extended the instrument to him.

  Gabriel raised it, sighted along the edges, and pushed on the three valves in the middle. “What are these?”

  “That, my friend, is a trumpet.” Jesus laughed. “A trumpet the world has never seen before.”

  “This isn’t a ram’s horn. This is metal. It…” Gabirel fingered the valves and probed through the coiled tubing with his mind. “These valves change the length of the tubing by opening and closing the different pathways. You can change the notes and the tone!”

  Raphael said, “It’s amazing!”

  “And its yours,” Jesus said. “When the time comes, I’m going to want you to make an announcement, and I want everyone to listen when you do. Until then, play it and enjoy.”

  Gabriel bowed.

  Jesus turned to Raphael. “And you, my friend.”

  He hugged Raphael, and Raphael gripped him as tightly as he could, bringing his wings around Jesus and bowing his head. “Thank you for letting me be your guardian. That’s the only gift I’d ever have asked for, and you already gave it to me.”

  Jesus chuckled. “Of all of them, you’re the one who’s most convicted, most determined to serve me. You never wavered, and you’re wholly mine.”

  Raphael closed his eyes.

  Jesus said, “I’m going to give you a gift anyhow.” He opened his hands, and between them appeared a bowl filled with minuscule pearls. In the light of Heaven their creamy skin gleamed with pastel blues and pinks. “This is joy. I want you to keep these and hand them out to whomever you see fit.”

  Raphael picked up one of pearls, rolling it gently between the tip of his thumb and forefinger. “Anyone?”

  He looked over at Gabriel, but Gabriel raised his trumpet. “Not me. I’ve already got my gift.”

  Jesus laughed. “Peter and the others are going to head into the world and tell everyone the good news of their salvation. It’s not going to be easy for them, and some people are going to need a little extra help. The joy of the gospel is my gift to my people, and I want it to pass through your hands on its way.”

  Raphael accepted the bowl, and as soon as he held it, the bowl and all its pearls dissipated into his heart. “They’re all there for you, waiting,” Jesus said. “You’ve got enough fire inside to keep them warm and ready for my people when it’s time for them to come to me.”

  That done, Jesus turned toward the assembly and raised his hands. Cups appeared, all filled with wine. He raised his glass and said, “A toast! Today we’re enjoying our wine new in the Kingdom of God.”

  Dedication

  Dedicated to Kenneth Elwood, who always knew when to push my writing to the next level.

  Acknowledgments

  As always, I owe a debt of gratitude to my critique partners who give the most amazing and insightful feedback. Thank you so much Ivy Reisner, Wendy Dinsmore, Kaci Hill, Sarah Begg, and Normandie Fischer. I’m especially thankful for Amy Deardon’s guidance as I continue to figure out the indie publishing process.

  On the personal side of things, thank you also Madeline and Evan, for reasons you two know. Finally, special thanks to James for his patience while I’m worlds away.

  I especially need to thank my readers. Your support and encouragement never stop amazing me, and I thank you for the gift of your time and the chance to share my world with you. Please consider leaving a review at Amazon. Don’t worry about writing a whole book report: just click on a number of stars and put a couple of sentences about what you liked or didn't like. I appreciate the time you spend doing that, and leaving a review really helps authors and other readers.

  I’ve got a mailing list for anyone who wants to hear about new books and the occasional sale: http://eepurl.com/bcnCNX.

  And also, we’ve got another two Seven Archangels books! You can read them in any order you like because they stand alone, but the next two are Seven Archangels: Shattered Walls and Seven Archangels: Annihilation.

  I’ve included two chapters of Book 3, Shattered Walls, for you to check it out. This one is fun.

  Remiel and Zadkiel are investigating a new weapon Satan’s got in development. But in the process of investigating, they accidentally set it off, leaving Zadkiel blind and Remiel injured – and Belior trapped in a human body.

  Belior knows those two hold the only key to his restoration. And if Remiel’s learning nothing else over the years, it’s that a demon will do anything to get what he needs.

  Chapter One

  Remiel drew all four of her wings tighter against her body, the inner set flush against her sides while the outer one iced over with Hell’s lashing sleet. Squinting against the wind, she muttered, “They picked the right place to hide their project, whatever it is.”

  Ahead of her, Zadkiel shook her head, scattering ice crystals from her curly black hair. Why were they even here? Demons didn’t use the ice fields for research and development. Hell’s elite typically cordoned off the dark caves known as the lab area for their personal office space, and the rank-and-file spent most of their time in the hot interior or on the shores of the Lake of Fire itself.

  But the ice fields? Demons hated them. For research and development, or even for just talking, this part of Hell had too much weather and were too tumultuous. The rumors Michael’s informants had picked up gave tantalizing hints about a weapon in development, but no real information. Not even which demons were involved.

  Zadkiel with her incredible talent for revealing what was hidden had led them to this spot, which was the last place Remiel would ever have thought to look for demons engaged in delicate work.

  Delicate, but secret—and for that, Remiel had to admit, you couldn’t get much better in terms of isolation. Maybe Zadkiel was on the right trail. Or maybe they were enduring this nasty blizzard for no reason whatsoever.

  Zadkiel touched Remiel’s arm, and Remiel followed. With her sky-blue wings extended (well, icy silver wings for the moment) and her eyes closed, Zadkiel pivoted a degree, then back, then tucked her wings again and pushed forward against the wind. As long as they kept their angelic signatures suppressed, not even projecting their emotions to one another, no demons would be able to detect them. But that also made it harder to stay in contact, so Remiel struggled to keep her in sight.

  Similarly, it would have been a lot easier to go completely incorporeal. Wearing subtle bodies, the angels were vulnerable to wind and weather, but being incorporeal would hamper their ability to search. And that was the reason they were here, the reason their little incursion party consisted of only two angels: a Seeker and someone to protect her.

  Zadkiel dropped to the surface and pushed against the snow, raising her wings to provide cover as she dug. Remiel turned her back to Zadkiel, opening her senses for any approaching demons. You could hurry up whatever you’re doing, she thought.

  In her mind, Zadkiel chuckled. Soon. And then, Now.

  Remiel turned in time to see Zadkiel vanish head-first into a hole. She jumped in after.

  She hit a solid surface, and her wings flared as her legs gave out beneath her. A
t her side, Zadkiel was on hands and knees, slush frozen to her clothes, breath heaving.

  There was silence. Ice and silence.

  Shifting to a stand, Remiel rested her hand on her sword (although for all she knew, the weapon was frozen to its scabbard.) She extended her senses through the cave but felt only distant prickles. There were demons nearby, but not close. Cautiously, she started to glow.

  They’d taken shelter in a cavern of ice, barely large enough for two angels and their wings. Drawing her sword wasn’t a concern after all: there was no room to use it. Still, she rested her hand on the hilt and projected heat down the blade until the ice melted.

  Beside her, Zadkiel flared heat all over her body, dissipating the ice and drying off. Can you feel their residue?

  When Remiel shook her head, Zadkiel edged to the walls of the cave. Lots of demons use this space the way we’re using it now, she sent. That’s why the ice is so smooth—they come in, they flare the ice off themselves, and then they head…this way. She crouched at one corner. There’s a tunnel hidden here.

  Above them, the opening had already sealed over with sleet. Remiel frowned. The pair of them could get jumped very easily, and anything Remiel could think of to improve their chances would only increase the chance that they’d be detected. It would be very easy to cast a Guard in this little hollow, letting her power form the spiritual equivalent of unbreakable walls, but if the demons had any sentries posted at all, a Guard was as good as a signal flare. She and Zadkiel might be able to get free if attacked, but afterward the demons would more tightly protect, or move, whatever this mysterious weapon was.

  In other words, if the angels tipped their hand right now, they needed to tip it fully and finish the job in one go. With a strike force consisting of exactly one Dominion and one Virtue.

  Stranger things had happened. Remiel sent, Can you feel how many there are down there?