by Amy Braun
“I like the way you think.”
Warrick grinned and stepped back so Dro and Max could leave the cell. My sister didn’t look back at me. The rest of us followed them out, standing in front of the slayers. I didn’t like the way they were watching Max. Carver looked like his head was about to burst.
“You should have told us you had a psychic with you,” he growled at Warrick.
“Max is harmless,” he defended. “Which is more than I can say for us if you try to do something to him.”
Carver tightened his jaw. I don’t know what his past relationship was like with Warrick, if he used to be the favorite or was the troublemaker he could never control, but at that moment all he seemed to want was to punch Warrick’s lights out.
Thankfully, Jackson was quick enough to stop Carver from doing anything he would regret.
“So,” the large man said awkwardly, “what are we going to do with the angel now?”
We all looked at Gabriel. He still hadn’t raised his head.
“If he isn’t going to tell us anything, then he’s useless,” Carver said. “We might as well kill him.”
Warrick’s jaw dropped. Sephiel’s eyes blazed with rage.
“I will not witness the murder of my brother,” he said seriously.
“We can’t let him go,” Elle pointed out. “He’ll kill us the moment he’s released. Do you honestly think he’ll show mercy to you? He made it pretty clear that he doesn’t really think of you as family.”
Sephiel’s fists were white-knuckled. He was ready to punch Elle into the next universe. Carver reached for a knife from his hip and took a step toward the cell door. I stood in front of him and blocked his path.
“Get out of the way.”
He made sure I could see the huge knife he was carrying. I crossed my arms, uncomfortably aware that I had no weapons. My knives and hatchet were missing. I didn’t know if they’d been recovered after the fight with Lucifer or if I’d lost them again. It made me sad to think I might have lost another special weapon. Sephiel made the hatchet to replace the first one I lost. It was a light, silver bladed weapon with a leather wrapped hilt. On the edge, he engraved the words ‘Anima potentis, cor sororis.’ In Latin, it meant ‘Soul of a warrior, heart of a sister.’
I’d become accustomed to the new weapon, though it wasn’t the original hatchet I had taken from my father the night he was murdered. It was the last piece of my family, and it was lost in the cave-in when we were rescuing Dro from Lucifer. I didn’t like the idea that I would be losing things I was getting attached to, even if they were just things. I didn’t even think about losing the people I was attached to.
Still, I kept my face neutral as I stared down Carver. He wasn’t the first large fighter I’d faced. There was nothing he could do or say that would scare me.
“Killing him is a bad idea,” I said.
“I’m not going to tell you again,” he threatened.
“Then I’ll spell it out for you. How long do you think this bunker will be shielded from Michael? You think he won’t come looking for his second in command? What do you think he’ll do when he finds out that you haven’t just tortured him, but murdered him, too?”
Carver didn’t immediately attack me, so I kept going.
“I’m not saying Michael will be kind or merciful if he finds you.” I looked into the hallway. “I’ve only known one angel who’s both of those things.”
Sephiel inclined his head gratefully. I looked at Carver again.
“But I think it’s a safe bet to say that Michael won’t immediately come after revenge if you leave Gabriel alive. You guys aren’t the ones he’s after.”
“You think you know how an archangel’s mind works?”
“Oh, I know I don’t. But getting on an angel’s bad side is the last thing you want to do.” I cringed as I remembered the heat of heavenfire at my back. “Trust me.”
Someone stood next to me. I didn’t have to look to know it was Warrick. I was all too familiar with his warm, musky pine scent when he stood close to me.
“She’s right, Carver. We’ve seen what angels can do. They’re just as ruthless and deadly as demons are. You can’t take back killing Gabriel, and Michael isn’t very forgiving to his enemies.”
For the next couple minutes, Carver and Warrick were completely focused on each other and oblivious to the rest of us. Warrick looked as honest and uncompromising as ever. Carver looked like he wanted to put a hole though the wall. Or through someone’s head.
Then a miracle happened. Carver sheathed his knife.
“We let him live for another few days until you figure out this damn Gate thing. If I think he’s going to be a danger to us, then I will do whatever I have to do.”
Warrick cringed a little, then nodded. He took a step forward until he was inches from Warrick’s face.
“This is the last favor I’m giving you, John. I won’t let any of us be killed because you care too much. We both know what happens when you start doing that.”
Carver turned and walked away before Warrick could say or do anything. Elle followed her father like a hungry puppy. Jackson gave Warrick a regretful look, but followed them too.
“You were right,” I said when they were out of earshot. “These slayers are assholes.”
I looked at him, grinning to make him feel better. Warrick stared ahead hopelessly, like he was trapped on an island and watching his rescue boat go up in flames.
“Warrick?”
He didn’t even blink. I touched his arm. He jumped a little and looked at me.
“Are you okay?”
He slumped and took a step away from me. I had the crushing urge to grab him and pull him back.
“I’m all right,” he muttered. I didn’t believe him for a single second. “I think I’m gonna go train for a little while.”
“Do you want me to come with...”
Warrick was already walking away. He turned out of the door and was gone. I sighed, rubbing my forehead to take away the headache beginning to grow in my skull. Why did everything have to be so fucking complicated?
I was walking out of the room when I felt eyes on my back. I looked over my shoulder.
Gabriel was sitting in the chair watching me. He didn’t look as conceited as before. His hazel eyes were locked on mine in an earnest way, almost like he understood me. But that couldn’t be possible. Gabriel liked watching humans run around in circles and get into trouble. He didn’t want to understand us. He just wanted to remind us that he was better than we could ever dream to be.
I turned my back to him and started walking away again. For some reason, I stopped when I was in the hallway to look at him one more time.
That strange, understanding expression was still on his face. He held my eyes for a long time, and I was suddenly grateful he was bound in the circle. I didn’t want him jumping into my head right now.
Gabriel dipped his chin, then raised his head at me.
I was stunned. Did he just nod at me? Why would he nod at me? What did it mean?
I had no clue, and I didn’t trust it. But even as I closed the door and pulled the door handle it to make sure it was locked, I couldn’t help but think that the archangel was debating on switching sides.
Chapter 12
Sephiel was the only person waiting in the hallway after I made sure Gabriel was locked up. Heavy sorrow covered him again. Maybe he’d been too lost in his own thoughts to move. The last few days had been a wild ride for Sephiel. It was amazing he hadn’t completely snapped yet.
“Sorry about what he said, Seph,” I told him quietly.
“Your condolences are appreciated, Constance, but unnecessary.” His voice was lifeless.
True, it should have been Gabriel who was apologizing, but seeing Sephiel broken down made me sorry for him. The angel had turned his back on his home and his brothers and sisters to protect a girl he should have hated. He saved our lives and always seemed like nothing could faze him.
Then Lucifer appeared, and all that changed.
“We should return to our domiciles,” he said.
“Yeah. I feel like I can never get enough sleep these days.”
We were silent as we walked down the hallway. My mind kept going through ways to talk to Sephiel, but everything seemed too wrong. I couldn’t even think of a random topic to take his mind off everything happening to him. His family was trying to kill him. His spiteful brother was being tortured. His lover was dead. His archenemy had returned and nearly slaughtered him.
People going through all that drama didn’t exactly talk about the weather.
“I am indebted to you for standing up for Gabriel,” the angel said after a long time. “I am aware how protective you are when it comes to the well being of your friends.”
I snorted. “Gabriel’s not a friend.”
“No,” Sephiel said, stopping in the middle of the hallway to face me. “But I am.”
I stared at the auburn-haired angel. He didn’t even doubt what he said. I wasn’t a nice person. I wasn’t easy to get along with, and I didn’t give out my trust easily. But Sephiel had done a lot for us. I owed him more than I could ever repay. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, he was a friend.
“Don’t hang onto that sentiment too much,” I replied with half a grin. “I’d still like to give Gabe a smack for talking to you the way he did.”
Sephiel lowered his eyes. “It is not Gabriel who angers me.” His voice became much, much darker. “It is Lucifer.”
I kept my mouth shut, thinking back to the way Sephiel had reacted when he saw his lover’s rapist and murderer. There were no words to describe how hateful Sephiel had looked. It scared even me.
“We had no reason to suspect it was he who stole Everiel,” the angel said out of the blue. “Michael and the others assumed she had fallen of her own accord. But I knew better. Everiel may have loved humans, but Heaven was her home.”
Sephiel paused, lingering on the bittersweet memory.
“I searched for her, receiving Michael’s permission to leave Heaven and discover her whereabouts. It was not long before I encountered demons.”
He flexed his hands, turning them into fists. “I did things to them that I am not proud of, but I obtained my answer. They said I would never find her. That Lucifer was already using her for his own ends, and that she showed promise, despite her resistance.”
I felt sick. Rape was common in Juárez. Men tried to rape me all the time when I was getting into fights against rival cartels. Every single one of them got a taste of my hatchet.
It was impossible for me to imagine the pain and suffering Everiel had endured under Lucifer. All of that power forced onto you in Hell would break the strongest woman.
“The demons would not tell me the location of the Hell Gate, so I returned to Heaven and pleaded to Michael to launch a full scale rescue. He did not accept. He said it was foolish to risk the entire Host and provoke Lucifer into war. He believed Lucifer would not be able to produce a child from Everiel.”
He was very fucking wrong.
“I turned my pleas to other angels, desperate for help in my search. No one would test the will and wrath of Michael. So I searched alone. I spent a century on earth looking for her, living among the mortals and opening up all the channels to hear her.”
That explained why Sephiel was so sympathetic toward humans. He’d lived with us for a hundred years.
“Finally, I put out a call, and I heard her voice.” Sephiel took a deep breath. His eyes glistened. “I followed her cry across the world. She needed me more than ever. When I arrived, Andromeda had already been born.”
I was very careful when I asked my question. “You saw Dro when she was a baby?”
Sephiel nodded, but didn’t look at me. “I urged Everiel to return with me to Heaven, but she was so weak...”
He paused to take another steady breath. “She pleaded that I watch over the child. She had the gift of foresight, and told me the child would have a fierce protector, but they would need another to watch over them. It was a promise I could not deny.”
Sephiel stopped again. I didn’t push him or tell him to end the story. There was no reason for him to tell any of this to me, except that it might ease all the misery he was enduring. How did a person live with all that pain locked inside? How could they keep it all together? Maybe Sephiel had a method of keeping himself in one piece, but I couldn’t even imagine how hard it was.
“She would not have wished that I seek revenge for her. I tried to honor that wish. I have demonstrated obedience and temperance my whole life,” Sephiel went on. “I am willing to forgive any faults of my kin or of mortals. I have forgiven Michael for forbidding the search, all the angels who would not help me, and I have even forgiven you for restraining me when I saw the Archfiend.”
He lifted his head. That terrifying, blistering hatred was back in his eyes. They glowed blue with rage. It was the kind of look that made me remember exactly how malevolent Sephiel could be, and that getting in his way was a very, very bad idea.
“But I will not forgive Lucifer.”
It was a promise. If Sephiel had the chance to kill Lucifer, he would do it. I wouldn’t stop him again, but I knew he would die. Sephiel was blind with sorrow and hatred. It would get him killed.
“Lucifer will get his, Seph,” I told him. The lie was smooth and sincere. “But you can’t run off after him alone. He’s stronger than you.”
“Do you assume I am not aware of this?” he said sharply. “I have observed the results of his power countless times, Constance. I was witness to his Fall, the Sin of Eve, everything. All he has done, I have seen. But Death will come for Lucifer, by my hand or another’s.”
“Then let it be another’s,” I offered. “Killing for revenge doesn’t bring you peace. I killed Isabel, and I still feel the same pain I felt after she killed my father.” I kept my hands loose at my sides before adding, “Revenge won’t bring our loved ones back.”
I honestly thought he was going to hit me. Sephiel’s animosity oozed from his whole body like lava. If he attacked me, I would put up a fight, but I wouldn’t be able to stop him. Partly because he was stronger than me, and partly because he was one of my only friends. I didn’t want to hurt him.
But Sephiel didn’t move. The anger twisted into sadness so agonizing to see it made me want to cry for him. I wouldn’t wish his pain on anyone.
Except for Drake, Mateo, and Lucifer, of course.
I took a careful step toward the grief-stricken angel. “Look, don’t do anything to get yourself hurt. It would crush Dro.”
He raised his head again.
“She loves having you around. You’re her mentor and her friend. The last thing she wants is for you to suffer and die.” I took one more careful step. “You don’t have to worry about honoring Everiel’s memory, Seph. You already are by keeping Dro safe. I might not have known Everiel, but I’m willing to bet that you protecting her daughter would mean more to her than martyring yourself.”
Sephiel slumped against the wall, closing his eyes. He sighed heavily, like his heart was sinking with every breath.
“Yes,” he finally whispered. “It would.”
It was another minute before Sephiel opened his eyes. There was still a deep misery in them, but I could see a hint of closure. As if he was finally ready to accept that revenge wouldn’t get him anywhere. He wasn’t ready to let Everiel go, however. Something told me he never would. At least this was a start.
“I am grateful for your kindness and attention, Constance. I did not know how dearly I needed it.”
I shrugged. “Don’t mention it. You’re the only person who wants to talk to me right now.”
Sad but true. Which means I need to talk to my sister.
“Perhaps I should leave you to tend to Andromeda,” Sephiel said.
I raised my eyebrows. “Did you read my mind?”
He smiled sadly. “I fear there was no need. I shal
l seek conference with Max to give you more privacy. We will try to uncover the location of the Heaven Gate.”
I nodded. Sephiel bowed slightly then turned and started walking down the hall. I watched the angel turn down the corner and disappear from sight. Half of me was glad that Sephiel had gotten all of that off his chest. The other half was remembering what it was like to be broken hearted, and suffer because of it...
He nearly knocked my head off with his latest punch. The entire world was pain to me. My head was pounding. Smears of blood and puffy bruises covered my cheeks. I could hardly see out of my left eye. My chest and stomach felt like elephants had stomped on them. I was wheezing every time I breathed.
And Emilio thought his son was being too soft on me.
“Tell us where she is, Constance,” my employer said. “Mateo has all the patience in the world for you, but mine is running thin.”
I stared at Emilio’s shiny black shoes because it hurt to lift my head. I was unconscious when they dragged me into the basement to interrogate me, so I learned later that Isabel had left in a rage, storming away to start her own search for Dro. I was worried about my little sister, but she was smart. She would be able to sense Isabel coming and find a way to hide. She would be safe.
The same couldn’t be said for me.
Mateo’s harsh slap woke me up from my trance. I choked on a cry as the blow stung my battered face, making the open cut on my cheek burn even fiercer. The right half of my face felt like it was on fire.
“Stop dragging this out,” Emilio said, taking a step closer, “otherwise we’re going to have to get creative.”
I forced myself to scowl and push my eyebrows together, pretending to be angry. The truth was that I was fucking terrified. Beating the life out of people wasn’t amusing for Emilio. Not when he would burn, drown, stab, hang, electrocute, or dismember them. Nobody created suffering quite like Emilio Rocha.
I kept my lips closed. It wasn’t that hard, since my blood was making them stick together. I still had my voice, for whatever that was worth. I’d been to enough ‘interrogations’ to know that everyone had a breaking point. All it took was the right leverage and the right motivation. I wasn’t stupid enough to think I wouldn’t snap sooner or later. The goal was to get out of here before then.
