by Cassie Ryan
He sighed as a thousand memories assailed him—especially those involving Lilith. He’d often thought how much easier life would be if one of the others had been sent in his stead to the Garden. But then Lilith would be dead, as God had originally ordered.
A cold spear of pain pierced his heart at the thought of such a possibility.
Raphael’s eyes opened, his hazel gaze locking with Uriel’s for a long moment before the large Archangel leaned down, moved aside the oxygen mask, and set his lips against the soldier’s to literally breathe life back inside him.
The man’s chest expanded with the force of Raphael’s life-giving breath. The soul snapped back inside the body and his labored breathing eased as he sank into a deep, healing sleep.
“Live. You have much left to do in this world.” Raphael replaced the oxygen mask and ran a gentle hand over the soldier’s short hair like he comforted a small child.
Raphael stood and stretched, his vertebrae making a series of pops after the long time spent in one position.
Tension rose between them thick and oppressive. Raphael was most likely waiting for Uriel’s reaction from the session with Lilith.
Uriel had hoped to avoid the subject, but he should’ve known Raphael’s sense of empathy and honor wouldn’t let him ignore it as Uriel had hoped.
Uriel mentally squared his shoulders and waded in to confront the pink elephant in the room as circumspectly as possible. “I’ve always enjoyed watching you work. I suppose I’m a bit envious of your ability to restore life rather than just mete out punishments.” He smiled, a silent peace offering for Raphael.
Raphael’s lips curved, but the action was still short of a full-fledged smile. “And here I’ve always been jealous that I never get to kick ass like you or Michael.”
Uriel stepped forward and hugged Raphael in a quick bear hug before releasing him and stepping back. He kept his hand on the angel’s shoulder and met his hazel gaze. “Lilith asked for what would hurt me most, and I had no choice but to honor it. I bear no ill will toward you or Gabriel.” He forced his lips into a small smile, even though the pain of watching the two beings closest to him with the woman he loved still ate at him like acid. “God meant for us to enjoy the pleasures of sex, even though our options are limited. I would’ve done the same in your situation. Sex with only humans and those below our station in the supernatural realm can be very limiting since we can never truly be ourselves with them.”
Raphael studied him closely, but Uriel knew not much made it past his very observant friend. “The situation sucks, and for that I’m sorry. I won’t return for—”
“No.” Uriel held up a hand to stop Raphael’s continued denial. “If she asks for you again, please return. Lilith needs sustenance, and in a warped way, this does allow me to be with her through you and Gabriel.”
Raphael sighed and then slowly nodded. “If either of you need me, I’ll be there.”
Behind them, a doctor checked on the soldier Raphael had set on the road to healing and quickly called another doctor over to consult. An excited murmur flowed around the medical staff and Raphael slapped Uriel on the shoulder and stepped back with a satisfied smile. “Why don’t we go elsewhere? My work here is done, and I don’t think you came to find me just to make sure things were still good between us. God only knows you would’ve ignored it until the apocalypse if I allowed it.”
Uriel snorted, unsurprised with Raphael’s bluntness. “Ouzo?”
“Meet you there.”
Uriel held a picture inside his mind of where he wanted to go and dematerialized. A quick second later he rematerialized on a balcony in Santorini, Greece, that looked out over a hillside dotted with colorful buildings and beyond to the turquoise waters of the Aegean.
A cool breeze ruffled his long hair and he tucked it behind his ear as he breathed deep the scent of the salty air. So much history here, and so much that must remain buried. But the beauty of the place made up for all that, he supposed.
Raphael materialized next to him and they sat on either side of the small table reserved only for high-level supernaturals. The tiny establishment was staffed both by low-level angels and demons alike, as well as everything in between. But then only in the Bible and in history was good versus evil as clear-cut as the humans thought.
A snow-white Wendigo demon bustled to the table, its long yellow claws and fangs glistening in the afternoon sunlight as it set a bottle of ouzo on the table next to a platter filled with feta cheese, Greek olives, hummus, and fresh-baked pita bread.
The spicy scents teased Uriel’s senses, and he sighed as his stomach churned from the stress of recent events. Archangels technically didn’t need to eat, but Greek food was one of his favorite pleasures.
“Thanks.” Raphael accepted the two tall, thin shot glasses the Wendigo produced from thin air.
The demon nodded and disappeared back inside the house.
“Here.” Raphael filled Uriel’s glass to the top with the clear-colored liquor. “You look like you could use it. Then you can tell me what’s going on.” He filled his own glass and set the bottle aside. “I sense something much worse than just the situation with Lilith.”
Uriel raised the glass to his lips, inhaling the pungent scent of black licorice before toasting Raphael and downing the ouzo in one swallow. The slow burn down his throat seeped out into his limbs, and he sighed and relaxed back in his seat as Raphael downed his own drink. When Raphael refilled both glasses and popped a green olive into his mouth, Uriel pulled the small journal out of the pocket of his slacks and laid it on the table between them.
Raphael cocked his head to one side, his brows furrowed in question. “What is it?”
Uriel took a deep breath, glad to finally share this burden with someone else who would understand its significance. “It’s a journal of poetry and supernatural myths—most of which are absolutely true, and known only by a select few.”
Raphael froze with his glass partway to his lips. “What kind of myths are we talking about here?”
Uriel didn’t want to mention his love letters to Lilith. Raphael and Gabriel knew about his broken vows, but after Lilith’s most recent visit to his house, his emotions were still raw and aching where she was concerned. Besides, the very explicit letters were only one small part of what was inside the journal. It was the embodiment of something he’d hoped would stay trapped forever.
Uriel refilled his own glass and downed it, letting the burn spread for a long moment before he spoke. “There’s information about my house, references to places where all of us spend our time, what we do, who we interact with and when. Not to mention the true histories of several events such as the flood, Atlantis, Pompeii—”
“Atlantis?” Raphael demanded as he set his glass down on the table with more force than necessary. He glanced quickly out toward the blue Aegean and then back toward Uriel. “No one except God Himself, the Archangels, and Lucifer knows about Atlantis. That’s the one story that can’t ever get out.”
“It’s a little late for that apparently.” Uriel flipped the journal open to a page he’d marked and held the book out to Raphael.
Raphael took the small book, his gaze scanning the page as Uriel downed another shot of ouzo.
“Fuck me. These are Armageddon prophesies. The herald to the end of the human realm.”
A bitter laugh escaped Uriel. Raphael rarely used human curses, but that was his favorite when the situation called for it. “We’re pretty much all fucked if all these secrets get out into the mainstream. The faster the human consciousness accepts it as fact, the faster the end of the world will speed toward us.”
“Lucifer?”
Uriel shook his head. “Lucifer stands to lose the biggest if the fast-forward button is pushed for Armageddon. But it would be easy to convince all the so-called human scholars that he has the most to gain. They’re all convinced that whoever has the most souls in the end wins the big battle between good and evil. They have no idea that it’s
a much more complicated system than that.”
“Which means . . .”
“Which means there’s a traitor among us.” Unfortunately, they had no idea which side the traitor was on, or even how to begin to find him.
Raphael tossed the journal back on the table between them before he leaned back in his chair, staring off over the balcony at the sea for a long moment. “Any other joyous news to share today?”
“Actually, yes. Look at the inside front cover of the journal.”
Raphael scowled and leaned forward to open the front cover of the journal where it lay on the table in front of him.
Uriel leaned across the table to place his finger just over a notation on the bottom of the page. “This is journal one of four. There are three more out there, and I have no idea where to find them.”
10
Semiazas straightened and experimentally moved the arms and legs of the borrowed elderly librarian woman he’d just possessed. The old bat was still in here somewhere with him, but her consciousness had been pushed aside when he’d taken over. Thanks to her little habit of smoking joints on her lunch hour in the back alley, he’d been able to slip past her normal defenses and borrow her for a little stroll.
Lucky for him, she’d just think she’d dozed off and had a very odd dream. That’s why he loved borrowing substance abusers, they were so gullible and ready to explain away anything out of the ordinary.
He adjusted the old lady boobs more comfortably inside the bra that rivaled Fort Knox and then tucked the tiny blue journal inside the generous cleavage. He’d be surprised if anyone strip-searched this form, and if they did, he could play the sweet, innocent old lady card.
Humans were so easy to manipulate!
After making sure everything was as it should be, he draped her gaudy polka-dot purse over his forearm and strolled around the front of the building to the entrance to the British Library.
Semiazas passed the thirtysomething male security guard, who nodded politely. Semiazas fluffed his salt-and-pepper hair playfully and tossed a saucy wink in the younger man’s direction before he lifted his cleavage with both hands as if making sure the man hadn’t missed the display.
When the man’s face paled and he suddenly became very interested in reading the magazine in front of him, Semiazas chuckled. Being an Archangel was never this much fun—other than the time he’d spent in Gabriel’s bed. Now that was something worth crowing from the rooftops about. Not only was the very delectable Gabriel very inventive and uninhibited in all things sexual, she was also insatiable. Too bad she hadn’t loved him more than that poor excuse for a deity she’d betrayed him for. After all, they were already breaking God’s rules by having any relationship between them; was it that much more of a leap for her to follow Lucifer when he did?
He shoved the old anger aside and concentrated on navigating through the dusty corridors.
How interesting that when he’d seen Gabriel in Manhattan she’d just come from fucking a woman. His curiosity burned to know who it was. Maybe when his work here was done, he’d do some spying. Heaven knew he’d enjoyed some voyeuristic tendencies over the ages. But to watch Gabriel’s glistening pussy be licked and sucked by another woman made his cock hard.
Well—he didn’t have a cock in this form, but he was definitely horny as hell now. As soon as he placed the journal, he’d find a way to take care of that. He didn’t think he’d enjoy sex very much in this current form.
Semiazas smirked and tossed the tacky purse onto the librarian’s desk before making his way to the back rooms where the serious researchers spent time poring over dusty tomes to piece together their so-called expert opinions. Humans were so egotistical, thinking any part of the universe revolved around them. But then, that’s what made them so fun to screw with.
“Excuse me, Miss Shelly?”
Semiazas turned toward the voice to find a small boy tugging at the long flowered skirt this form wore. “What are you looking for, little man?” He balanced his fists on the ample hips of this form and smiled down at the boy. “Something to read that offers a little excitement?”
“Yes, mum. I have to write a book report for school on a nonfiction book.” He scrunched his nose, clearly showing what he thought of anything nonfiction. “I’m not sure where to start.”
“Oh, that’s an easy one. Follow me, my boy.” Semiazas headed toward the back wall where the research rooms were located. On the way, he stopped and scanned the shelves until he found a particularly gruesome book outlining the torture methods pirates employed during the 1800s. That ought to keep the boy entertained.
He handed it to the boy and grinned. “Here’s something you’ll find fascinating, and I can tell you from firsthand experience that every word is true. A particular favorite of mine is on page forty-four.”
The boy flipped open the book to page forty-four, his eyes widening until Semiazas thought they might pop out of his face and roll around on the ground like sticky marbles.
Page forty-four showed a particularly detailed and full-color illustration of how pirates strung up men by their testicles until their body weight ripped off their family jewels—or they talked. But more often than not talking wouldn’t stop the progression of the torture.
Semiazas hadn’t invented that particular method, but he’d enjoyed watching it being employed.
The boy swallowed hard and closed the book. “Uh, thanks.”
“Another satisfied customer. Now, shoo. I have work to do.” Semiazas turned away and did a little dance step on his way to the back research rooms. If the boy read that book and came back for more, he might actually be interesting. He shrugged and pulled out a large silver key to unlock the main research room.
As soon as he entered through the thick, wooden door, the musty smell of old paper assaulted him, and he wrinkled his nose. “The things I do for my job.” He fished inside the bra cup that held his left breast and pulled out the journal, wiping the sweat off the tiny book onto his skirt. “There we are. Now, where to leave it?” He glanced around at the stacks of books left on the tables, some open where the readers would most likely pick up next time.
He found one book written in ancient Hebrew open to a section discussing the history of the origins of Christianity and grinned. “Perfect.” He laid the journal on top of the open book and headed back out into the main library to have some more fun and possibly find some way to work off his lust over Gabriel.
He headed into the loo, as they called it here in Britain, and sat on the toilet inside a dingy blue stall. He released the woman and stepped out of her body, enjoying his first breath of air in several hours through his own lungs.
The old woman moaned and slumped back against the wall. He’d heard that demon possession left a raging hangover, but it was no more than she deserved for toking up in between her shifts.
Semiazas left the stall and stood in front of the mirror to ensure his dark hair was perfect. He adjusted his tie and brushed a few stray wrinkles out of his dark blue button-down shirt before he left the bathroom in search of a woman.
Not just any woman—preferably one who looked a lot like Gabriel. Brownie points if they were smart enough to spar with him mentally.
He could have a demoness take her form, but he preferred to have his sport with the humans. After all, those little meat sacks were the reason his kind had been reduced to mere servants. And that after an endless time of serving God faithfully. As anger flashed through him, his fingernails snapped out into razor sharp talons and he scraped four perfect furrows in the spines of a shelf full of books as he walked past.
The destruction only banked his anger; it definitely could never remove it. But if things worked out, revenge would be his soon enough.
He made his way upstairs and walked silently up and down the endless aisles of old books, stalking his prey. There were only a few people here and there as he passed, but then he turned the corner and found exactly what he’d been hoping for.
A young
woman with silver blond hair pulled back into a ponytail stood on tiptoes trying to reach a book on the top shelf. She had to be nineteen or twenty, her body tight and firm, but yet not fully developed as she would be once she matured. Human women in their thirties and forties were so much more fun to seduce than the young ones, but today he wasn’t after sport, he just needed to come inside someone he could pretend was Gabriel.
He quickly stepped behind her, pressing his body against hers and easily lifting the book off the shelf she’d been reaching for.
She made a noise of surprise deep in her throat and whirled to face him as he stepped back, pasting a confused yet innocent expression on his face.
“I didn’t mean to startle you. I just noticed you were having trouble reaching this book.” He held it out to her with his best “I’m harmless” expression.
Her full pink lips curved into a smile, revealing teeth a little too large for her face. No matter, he could fuck her from behind.
“Thanks. I just wasn’t expecting anyone up here.” Her voice was high and scratchy, not low and smooth like Gabriel’s. He sighed. Well, she would have to remain silent. No talking or witty verbal sparring with this one.
He lowered his voice and whispered like a conspirator. “There are only two other people up here and they are both on the far side of the floor.” He held her green gaze and glanced inside at her soul just long enough to find the insecurity and the yearning there that he could exploit to get what he wanted.
She glanced around to confirm his words and then looked up at him.
Victory surged through him, and he pulled her roughly against him while he captured her mouth with his. He expected her to protest, at least a little, but instead, she curled her fingers into the material of his shirt as he plundered her mouth, trying to pretend she was Gabriel and failing badly.
“What’s the meaning of this?” The angry and distraught words were from the elderly woman he’d taken over earlier.
Semiazas didn’t stop but instead bent the girl backward, kissing her hungrily in a last attempt to relive his past.
