Uriel's Descent (Ubiquity #1)

by Allyson Lindt

  Uriel’s Descent

  Ubiquity Book 1

  Allyson Lindt

  This book is a work of fiction.

  While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 by Allyson Lindt

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Acelette Press

  Blurb

  Any entry-level angel or demon would sell their soul for Ronnie’s job—retrieval analyst for the largest search engine in the world. Ubiquity is a joint initiative between heaven and hell. Because what better way to track all of humanity’s secrets, both good and bad, than direct access to their web browsing habits?

  She might appreciate the position a little more if: a) she could remember anything about her life before she started working at Ubiquity, b) the damned voice in her head would just shut up already, and c) her boss weren’t a complete control freak.

  On top of that, her best friends are acting strange—researching coconuts in Fiji? Her mentor, Lucifer, is acting cryptic—more so than normal. And the two most powerful angels in history are there whenever she turns around—Gabriel seducing her, and Michael pushing her away. Worse, Ronnie’s in danger of falling for Michael. Not a good idea…because demons and angels don’t date.

  Ronnie’s struggling to keep her sanity and job, while stopping the voice in her head from stealing her life. She almost misses the boredom of retrieval analysis at Ubiquity.

  Almost.

  Other Books in this Series

  Uriel’s Betrayal (Book 2, coming late summer 2016)

  Uriel’s Absolution (Book 3, coming fall 2016)

  Uriel’s Stand (Book 4, coming winter 2016)

  For my eternal dragon

  Table of Contents

  Blurb

  Other Books in this Series

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  More by Allyson Lindt

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Home again. Michael almost laughed at the thought. His colleagues called heaven or hell home. His was Franklin, Tennessee.

  He stepped through the glass door labeled First Angelic Non-Denominational Church of Faith. Few times in history was something more appropriately titled. A deep sense of serenity settled over him the moment he was inside. A place like this held its own power, granted by occupants’ belief and faith, rather than just recited words from a page.

  Another day, he would have taken a seat in the chapel and reveled in the peace. More important things waited. Critical, if he understood correctly. He took the stairs to the right and headed up. On the second floor, he knocked on the apartment door.

  The man who answered emanated a faint glow. It wasn’t as bright as one hundred years ago, but an aura dimmed and eventually vanished when an agent of heaven or hell fell. Fortunately for Izrafel, his descent was by choice.

  “I’m glad you could make it.” Izrafel opened the door wider.

  “I’m sorry I took so long. I was in Tibet when I got your email.”

  “Clearing your mind of decades’ worth of thoughts?”

  Michael should do that sooner, rather than later. “More like helping a monk find inner peace.” Izrafel would know he meant literally. Michael coached him through the same thing many years back, and it was why he was here now.

  “This is Toby.” Izrafel nodded to a young man pacing near the window. Even in streaming daylight, the guy shimmered like a string of multi-colored Christmas tree lights refracted through crystal.

  Toby whirled fast and teetered before holding onto a stack of books. His eyes grew wide when he saw Michael. “Whoa, you glow too.” He stumbled forward, hand outstretched. “Pretty.”

  Izrafel stepped between them, wrapped an arm around Toby’s waist, and then tugged him to sit on the couch. “We met in a bar. Had more in common than our preference in men.”

  Toby wore an aura that sparked and hummed in an impressive light show. Then there was his childlike fascination with everything in reach. Michael had no doubt. Like Izrafel, a cherub shared the man’s body. Toby’s confusion made it seem as though his hitchhiker wasn’t intentional.

  “Oh, wait.” Toby trailed his fingers over the fabric on the lumpy sofa, stroking, as if every pass was a new experience. “You’re the guy who can tell me what’s going on, right?”

  Michael kneeled in front of him. “That’s me. What do you know so far?”

  Toby met his gaze for the first time, and terror replaced awe. His aura spiked, jagged shards of color, and he scrambled back on the cushion, pulling his knees up close to his chest. The ethereal scent of cotton candy filled the air. “Don’t send me back. Please. I like it here. It’s nice. Don’t make me go.” He used his hands and heels to scoot away from Michael in tiny, slow movements.

  Michael knew that was the cherub talking. He shot his hand out and grabbed Toby’s wrist to stop him from crawling too far. At the same time, he let just enough power flow through him to calm the man. Boy? This guy was barely twenty-five. Izrafel was picking them up young. But it wasn’t Michael’s place to judge.

  “Toby.” Michael forced strength into his words. “I need you here.”

  The flare around the man died a little, and Toby’s pupils shrank to a normal size. “Yeah. That’s me. Izzy said I was possessed. I don’t believe in that God shit. Are you a priest?”

  “Not quite.” Michael kept a tight grip, trying to strike a balance between holding the man captive and not hurting him.

  Michael could give him honesty. The cherub sharing Toby’s body should have popped into existence in heaven or hell and begun its life serving demons or angels. If that happened, it would have fulfilled its purpose until it earned the right to a name and became a full-fledged agent. Instead, it appeared on Earth, a place where nothing could survive without a physical form for long, and sought the first available option for survival.

  The concept was hard to grasp for someone in full control of their senses. He wouldn’t make Toby struggle through an explanation, given the man’s state of mind. “You have an angel living in you.” Michael might as well go with the possession approach. They’d established Toby was familiar with the concept.

  “Angels don’t exist. And only demons possess people.”

  Heat pulsed through Michael’s hand where he held Toby’s wrist, and
Michael pushed another calming wave into Toby. “You know something’s in you, is that true?”

  Toby nodded.

  “What do you think it is?” This was always the difficult part of an evaluation. Michael needed to determine if the host and cherub were happy together or should be separated. The former created someone like Izrafel. At peace with themselves and somewhere on the power scale between a human and an angel. The latter was more likely and far more painful to the host.

  “I don’t know. But I want it gone. Am I stoned? Did someone slip me something?” Toby’s pupils dilated. “Don’t send me back. Please. The bar was fun. The people were friendly. I got laid. Have you ever gotten laid? Wow.” That would be the cherub again.

  “Toby.” Michael hated to use heavy levels of power on a mortal. Their bodies weren’t built for it. “Do you want it gone?”

  “Yes. Please. Make it stop.”

  “It’s going to hurt.” Michael used to tell them it would be fine and they wouldn’t feel a thing. After sitting through a couple of hosts screaming in agony, he decided honesty was a better route.

  “I don’t care. Get it out of me.”

  Michael nodded at Izrafel, who took Toby’s other hand and stroked his thumb over the man’s knuckles.

  “Look at me.” Izrafel’s voice was calm. “Don’t pay any attention to him. I’m here, all right?”

  Toby nodded.

  Michael drew in a deep breath and mentally tugged on the ethereal threads running through Toby’s body. Best to do it fast, like ripping off a bandage. He yanked.

  Toby’s scream filled the room and shook the windows. The rainbow around him danced and splintered. He jerked to get away, but Izrafel and Michael held him tight.

  Michael hated this part. It seemed to stretch on and on but in reality, only took a second or two. Silence crashed over the room as Michael sent the cherub to heaven, so it could start life properly. In a few months, or years, it would earn the right to shift to a physical form, and then it could come back here as its assignments allowed and enjoy getting laid on its own time.

  Toby collapsed back against the couch, unconscious, and Michael sank back onto the carpet. “He’ll be out for a little while, but he’s going to have a hell of a headache when he wakes up.”

  Izrafel raked his fingers through his hair. “So that’s what it’s like when it doesn’t work out. That sucks.”

  “At least he found you before someone from Ubiquity got to him.”

  “About that.” As Izrafel spoke, he moved to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and a bottle of pills, and then brought them back to sit on the end table.

  “Nope.” Michael would rather take a few minutes to collect his wits before moving on, but that was his cue to leave. “I don’t want to hear it.” When it came to anything to do with the mockery of a joint initiative heaven and hell called Ubiquity, Michael’s favorite spot to be was anywhere else.

  “You want to hear this.”

  If he left now, Michael could catch the next flight out of here. Another agent might phase across the ocean in a blink. He preferred his physical form, and enjoyed human modes of transportation, when possible. There were rumors of a witch doctor in Peru who performed actual magic. Something in Izrafel’s tone made him hesitate. “What is it?” Michael suspected he’d regret asking.

  “They’ve got one there.”

  “One…what?” The place was teaming with demons and angels. All cherubs at one time, they earned their names. Their right to come to Earth.

  Izrafel nodded at Toby. “One of those. Fractured aura, the whole deal. Except she’s different.”

  “How?”

  “You want the list? She came from hell, and she knows it. As in she’s a demon, present tense—name’s Uriel. Lucifer pulled strings to get her a retrieval analyst job. She doesn’t remember who she is or anything before she got to Earth. Oh, and she doesn’t have any idea she’s carrying a passenger.”

  Fuck. That sounded bad. “You know her?”

  “Yup. Wandered into my church a couple months back. Absolutely a blast to talk to.”

  “Why haven’t you told her?”

  Izrafel fiddled with the fringe on the edge of a couch cushion. “I want to, but I wasn’t sure if I should. Right now, she’s not hurting anyone, you know, the way it should be, and if she’s a project of Lucifer’s…”

  “I understand.”

  Izrafel needed to keep a low profile. Hanging onto a cherub wasn’t exactly sanctioned, and Michael helped anyone he reformed lay low. Going toe-to-toe with an original like Lucifer was the opposite of keeping one’s head down.

  “I’ll look into it,” Michael said.

  “Be careful with her? She doesn’t have the same lust for power and deception that a lot of them over there suffer from. She deserves better.”

  Michael couldn’t make any promises, so he kept his mouth shut and gave Izrafel a thin smile.

  Chapter Two

  Other demons fight for these jobs? Ronnie blinked to restore the moisture to her eyes and keep them from glazing over. The computer’s flat-screen monitor mocked her: Flowers, porn, perfume, candy. No. No. No. No.

  She clicked each as a Pass and moved on to the next person’s suspicious activities in the queue. Some holier-than-thou agent of heaven, a representative for the other side, would have their chance at the same list she vetoed, and if they decided it was important, they could chase down the lead.

  They wouldn’t find a cherub there, even if they decided to pursue. As a retrieval analyst for Ubiquity—the internet search engine for Earth—part of her job was to manually assess results of what mortals searched for online when the automated system flagged a possible cherub.

  When it came right down to it, this meant she spent a whole lot of time looking at normal individuals with some kind of fetish or addiction. Ronnie suppressed a yawn. Or, since it was a freaking online search engine, regular everyday people just shopping for the perfect gift for their loved ones.

  Did she have loved ones? The unwelcome thought gnawed at her, and she shoved it aside. She was working, not bemoaning her lost memories. Not that work took a lot of focus.

  The next individual’s search results flashed onto her screen—online games, social media, twenty-two email addresses.

  She swore. The odds were something like one in five gazillion a potential would exhibit anything close to cherub-like behavior.

  She flopped against her chair with a grunt, the mesh seat yielding before it snapped back into place. She rolled her eyes as far back as they went to distract her from the monotony. Someone needed to adjust the algorithms. This person wasn’t a cherub, just bored at work. Imagine that.

  Geez, this is tedious. She tried to remind herself to be grateful for what she had. The whole missing memory thing meant she probably wasn’t any good at whatever she actually trained for, and if she wanted to stay on Earth—and who wouldn’t really, so many chances to feel—she needed money for things like rent and food.

  But damn if it wasn’t so freaking tedious some days. She’d rather be out there—wherever there was—trying to figure out why her past vanished from her mind.

  “Back to work, demon.” Raphael’s barked order reached her with a jolt of electricity that zinged through her chair and crawled like tiny ants over her entire body before it seeped out her soles. Great. Static crackled through her hair as if she’d made out with a balloon.

  Ronnie didn’t know why he took issue with her. If the angel was a racist bastard, why wasn’t he zapping any other demons on staff? “Holy fuck. Was that necessary?”

  “I don’t care whose pet you are. Watch your language.”

  She wasn’t anyone’s pet. And language? Really? Fucking totalitarian, angelic fuck took this dogma shit way too seriously. It wouldn’t do her any good to remind him she preferred to be called Ronnie instead of demon or pet. He’d find a way to twist the request and use it against her.

  The moment he was gone, she set her queue to Away
, grabbed her water bottle, and rolled back from her desk. Outside the building’s wall of windows, green and blue, dotted with the occasional cloud, taunted her. At least her cube came with a view.

  She wove her way through rows of cubicles toward heaven’s side of the room. Ariel, Ari for short, had the enviable corner desk. Her window looked out on twice as much rolling landscape. She stood a couple of inches taller than Ronnie, even more so in the high-heeled boots Ari liked so much. Her flame-colored curls bounced around her tan, freckled face in a never-ending waterfall of corkscrews. A perk to being an agent—pesky things like genetics didn’t apply. Their appearances reflected the way they saw themselves, and since most of Ronnie’s colleagues thought highly of themselves, there weren’t a lot of ugly angels or demons.

  Ari was one of heaven’s top performers. At the head of the cherub capture list every month. And somehow Ronnie managed to land her as a trainer. Heaven’s stats must be suffering, but Ronnie wasn’t going to point that out. She leaned her weight against the back of Ari’s chair and peered over her shoulder. “Can you take a break?” Ronnie asked.

  Gaze straight forward, she held up an index finger and pointed at the lead on her screen. “Yes!” Enthusiasm filled Ari’s triumphant whisper.

  “Yay. Another dead end.”

  The words rushed inside Ronnie’s head like a shock. Did she think that? It certainly sounded like something she’d think.

  “No. It really doesn’t.” The taunt echoed in her skull, sounding like her, though it wasn’t her thought.

  Now she was arguing with herself? If that was the case, why could she almost swear she heard the voice? Like a dream or a memory…

  She waited a few seconds, but silence greeted her.

  Ari spun to face her. “You up for taking this one without any outside interference?” Ari nodded at her screen.

  The offer cleared away the odd sensation of another voice in Ronnie’s head. Maybe she shouldn’t have called it that. But when she extracted cherubs, they passed through her as she sent them to hell, so she was familiar with sensation of a second party talking in her head.