Uriel's Descent (Ubiquity #1)

by Allyson Lindt

  Ronnie read over Ari’s shoulder, processing the list of searches and purchases. A little unusual but nothing off the charts. Until she saw the jewelry. Lists and lists. All of it cheap trinkets. Silver, quartz, costume shinies. Watches, chains, a lot of it masculine.

  “Gotcha.” There was that weird mental voice again.

  She shook her head to jar the voice loose. She didn’t remember ever talking to herself like that. Wherever it came from, Ronnie or somewhere else, it made a good point. A sharp tingle raced inside. Her instinct was never wrong about these.

  “You’re welcome,” said the mental voice.

  “You drive; I’ll just observe.” Ari grabbed her purse.

  Of course Ari wanted Ronnie to do the phasing. Not that Ronnie was complaining. Most of her colleagues couldn’t easily travel long distances the way she did. It required a shift out of the mortal body to melt into the ether and then transverse space. She was told unlike her, most agents couldn’t travel in an effortless blink. It was supposed to be a painful, draining process, so a capture mission in another state permitted a lot of time to get there and back.

  Despite Raphael’s efforts, Ronnie didn’t have separate rules regarding how long a job should take, so no one expected her and Ari back today.

  Omaha was new territory to Ronnie, at least as far as she remembered. It sounded like fun. They’d take in the sights while they were there.

  She intertwined her fingers with Ari’s. A rush of power roared through Ronnie as she focused on erasing their physical forms and becoming ethereal. Their world blinked out of sight, and a suburban street replaced the Ubiquity offices.

  Cherub, cherub, where was the cherub? Ronnie scanned up and down the street. A trickle of disappointment flowed through her. The place looked like every other town: houses lining the sidewalk, the occasional tree, and cars dotted along the curb.

  Ari pulled her phone from her purse and showed Ronnie the GPS coordinates from the Ubiquity search engine logs. The location was precise, but her phasing wasn’t. She didn’t have built-in satellite navigation.

  “Go left.”

  Creepy voice.

  “Because your limited experience makes you an authority on creepy.”

  Whatever. Ronnie thrust the odd thoughts away and turned left. A warm breeze kissed her bare arms with hints of humidity. At least it was a gorgeous day.

  “Shopping after this?” Ari asked as they made their way down the street.

  “No money.”

  Ari shrugged. “Window shopping, then. And ice cream.”

  “Damn straight.” Ronnie couldn’t fight her grin.

  Within a few moments, the residential neighborhood thinned, giving way to a strip mall with a diner on the corner. The afternoon sun illuminated random splashes of metal in the parking lot as cars raced by on the main road. The roar of traffic was light, despite the looming rush hour.

  It seemed as likely the cherub would be here as anywhere, especially given the Free Wi-Fi sign in the window, but no one stood out as a target. A cherub tended to be naive, overly enthusiastic, and very friendly. Like a new puppy. Ronnie scrunched her face in disappointment. Did they miss it? No. The tingle in her veins was still there, and it never let her down.

  “What can I say? I’m good.”

  Yeah, that was definitely odd. Maybe she was rediscovering her ego.

  “Afternoon, beautiful.” A harsh edge underlined the seductive greeting, mingling with the growl of engines several yards away.

  Ronnie whirled toward the sound and the pull of her instinct. He stood between the dumpster well and the chain-link fence behind the restaurant, shielded from the view of passersby. Loose gravel crunched under her sneakers as she crossed the short distance between them. He leaned against the stucco building. Even farther out of sight. Perfect.

  “Your show,” Ari whispered and took two steps back.

  His open designer track jacket showed off gold chains gleaming against his tan. She had to raise her head to look him in the eye, but that was necessary for her with most people.

  His dark eyes narrowed as his gaze traveled up her body and lingered on her chest. She resisted the urge to hug herself, grateful for once her small boobs weren’t leer worthy. His attention heated her skin. Something wasn’t right. If there was a cherub in the man, he should be living every sensation to the fullest. He shouldn’t be so composed. So…intimidating.

  “Hi.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, studying the gleam of his watch. How long since the cherub started occupying this form? It didn’t matter. It wouldn’t be for much longer.

  Ari’s instructions replayed in Ronnie’s head. Get close enough to touch him, keep the contact minimal, and draw the cherub out. The familiar mantra helped her slide into the extraction. From there it would pass through her, and the right words would send it back to hell.

  “Lucky bastard.”

  What was up with the sentiment? Ronnie didn’t miss home that much.

  “Are you sure it’s safe for you out here, little demon?” Intense creepiness destroyed any innuendo in his flirting.

  The question caught her off guard. How did he know what she was? A cherub shouldn’t possess that kind of knowledge or recognition.

  “Maybe he’s more than just a cherub.”

  “He certainly isn’t one of us.” Great. Now Ronnie was talking to herself. The moment the thought materialized, doubt followed it. She didn’t have time to linger on it.

  He sneered and lunged, his hand moving so quickly it blurred in the afternoon light before he backhanded her. A ring connected with her cheekbone, knocking her off balance. Concrete bit through the denim of her jeans when her butt slammed into the ground. She muttered a string of curses and fingered her tender cheek. She shouldn’t still feel the sting. Because her physical form was a reflection of her self-image, any wound should heal the instant it happened. Still watching him, Ronnie scooted back as his foot came down where her ankle had been.

  “A little help, here,” Ronnie called over her shoulder.

  “You’re doing fine,” Ari replied. “But you’re going to have to fight back soon.”

  Fight? What the hell? This was supposed to be easy. It had always been easy before. Ronnie rolled away when he lunged. Gravel embedded itself in her bare shoulder, making her wish she opted for something with more coverage than a tank top. She cringed and brushed away the larger rocks. Why was he making this so difficult?

  Ronnie forced her tone to stay even as she tried to negotiate. “It doesn’t hurt if you don’t struggle.”

  “Like you know that.”

  Stupid mental voice.

  “I’m all for playing, pretty demon.” A threatening growl obliterated the man’s smooth baritone. “But why don’t you join me in my body instead of pulling me into yours?”

  She scrambled to find her footing. Her ankle twisted when she hit a crack in the asphalt at the wrong angel, and she landed on her ass again. The shock raced through her spine and reverberated in her skull.

  “What are you doing?” Ari’s bored tone floated through the air behind Ronnie. “Sparring practice? Bag it, and let’s go get ice cream.”

  She made it sound so simple. Why hadn’t anyone taught Ronnie how to fight? Was that something she knew before, in the pocket of memories she didn’t have access to? “I don’t know how.”

  “Quit screwing around. We all know how to fight.”

  “Except for maybe those of us who lost our memories,” Ronnie reminded her, irritation heavy in her voice.

  The cherub’s gold chains flashed in the sunlight as he closed in on Ronnie. His gravelly voice rolled over her skin. “Are you sure you want to do this? If you’re struggling, maybe you want to let me have your power instead. There’s room in here for more. It would be easier that way.”

  A response, not hers, echoed in Ronnie’s skull. “No it wouldn’t.”

  Something unfamiliar rushed through her as if oil were sliding under her skin. It electrified
her senses. She didn’t know what the sensation was, but it was less threatening than the cherub. She drew on the foreign energy. The power sped through her, replacing confusion with confidence. Without conscious thought, she looked inward with her second sight, as if dealing with a cherub, and saw dark ribbons of power racing unhindered along her veins and muscles.

  The feeling continued to flow into her limbs, moving them in fluid motions she didn’t know she was capable of performing. The cherub lunged, and she dodged, the foreign ribbons of ink driving her actions. Was this what it was like to be a marionette? She’d care about that later. Right now, she appeared to be winning. He stumbled, and Ronnie shot her hand out and locked onto his wrist.

  “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

  With the taunt, the new feeling in her limbs faded. What was that? She filed the experience away for later. Taking a deep breath, she set aside part of her consciousness to fog the thoughts of anyone passing by. Since most people preferred to pretend Ubiquity’s odd actions didn’t exist, inspiring mortals to ignore them came as easily to Ronnie as phasing from place to place. It was time to finish the hunt.

  Vibrant streaks of violet and silver wove through the host’s aura. She visualized the wisps of the cherub intertwined with the man. It wasn’t something she saw with her eyes, but when she connected with the cherub’s receptacle, an image—a knotted chain of tangled ribbons—filled her mind. She followed the strands of cherub and unraveled them one-by-one.

  Her eardrums recoiled at the loud howl reverberating off brick and concrete. Why the fuck was he screaming? That was as new as his fighting back.

  Ari’s hand rested on Ronnie’s arm, voice low but encouraging. “You’re almost done.”

  The physical contact gave Ronnie something solid to focus on besides the cherub’s howls of agony. She closed her eyes and drew the strands of cherub out of the host and into her. The roars grew louder, losing the cherub’s gravelly tone, as she absorbed more and more.

  Ronnie imagined winding the vibrant threads into a little ball. The screaming threatened her hearing. The uproar was horrible. It made her feel as if she was torturing a puppy. She wrapped the wisps inside her head and shoved them to the back of her mind.

  Silence crashed around her, and she opened her eyes. Thank God. The job was done. Her surroundings swam around her. She blinked. Blinked a few more times. The fence and dumpster became distinct again.

  “Let me out. I’m not one of them. You don’t understand.” The cherub whispered inside her thoughts.

  She muttered the incantation to exorcise it from her body, and seconds later, the cords rushed away from her to hell. She examined herself for external damage. Her tank top was torn in at least three different places, and something slimy and sticky covered her jeans. Gross. She needed to change. And crash.

  Her legs wobbled, threatening to give out. Something about the entire experience wasn’t right. The cherub was too aware. Too coherent. And too violent. Sick dread crawled through her—though she couldn’t name the cause—mixing with looming exhaustion.

  “Took you long enough.” Ari’s tease helped ground Ronnie further. “You never told me you forgot how to fight.”

  Ronnie stuck her tongue out at Ari. “I didn’t remember I was supposed to know how. Thanks for your help, by the way.”

  “You did great.”

  “Whatever. Speaking of, I don’t think I’m up for shopping.”

  Ari’s smile was sympathetic. “I completely understand. My first fighter caught me off guard too. But you did fantastic.”

  “First…?” Ronnie struggled to process the words through the haze of exhaustion. “I didn’t think they ever fought back.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Who told you that?”

  “I…” Ronnie stared at her shoes as heat flooded her cheeks. No one told her. It was part of the knowledge Lucifer stuffed into her head, to help her cope without memories. “I don’t know. Someone, I guess.”

  Ari tugged Ronnie’s fingers, drawing her attention back up. Ari’s voice was kind. “Whoever it was lied, or just didn’t know. Think about it. Would you want someone taking your body from you?”

  “No. I’d like it back now, please.”

  The voice in Ronnie’s head wanted its body back? An involuntary chill rolled down her spine. Beyond creepy.

  “That makes sense, I guess.” Ronnie gave the cherub’s former shell one last glance. The host should wake up in a few minutes, dazed, a little confused, and no worse for the wear, minus an extra voice in his head. Lucky bastard. “Do you want a lift back?”

  Ari glanced around, fiddling with her fingers, attention drifting up and down the street. “I’d better. There’s not much to see here anyway.”

  After dropping off Ari, Ronnie headed to her apartment and collapsed. With little energy or motivation to move, she figured she’d pass out and snooze the entire night away.

  Twelve hours later, most of it filled with infomercials and boredom, she admitted sleep wasn’t happening. She might as well go visit Lucifer.

  Chapter Three

  Michael leaned back in the chair, plastic and metal creaking beneath him, and propped his feet on the desktop. Dirt flaked from the dried, caked-on mess on the bottom of his boots and littered the polished oak. The sight of the hardwood surface–free of any scrapes or scuffs–made him smirk. At least some things were predictable about Lucifer.

  A key rattled in the lock, metal scraping metal, and the office door swung open.

  Michael raked his fingers through his hair. Maybe he should have changed before popping into hell. Chasing a sociopathic cherub through the muddy fields of Kansas wasn’t exactly his shining moment this week. He could have at least showered. He scratched the scrub brush of dark beard covering half his face. Or shaved. But he was anxious to make his move. Living for centuries didn’t grant the kind of patience most people assumed it did.

  “Morning,” Lucifer said with disdain. “You have something against my desk, Taxiarch?”

  Michael hated that nickname. An archaic title from a time best left in the past. A point in history with her. He glanced at Lucifer and crossed his feet at the ankles. The desk wouldn’t take any damage. Lucifer liked his antique furniture and polished-to-the-point-it-reflected wood surfaces too much to let that happen. Besides, Lucifer knew Michael hated being referred to in military terms—regardless of the language—so the aggravation flowed both ways.

  Michael glanced at the non-existent watch on his wrist and let impatience leak into his voice. “Are you keeping bankers’ hours now?”

  Lucifer dropped into the chair on the other side of the desk and leaned forward, steepling his fingers. “I didn’t realize anyone was waiting.”

  The office was as much Lucifer’s home as any place, so he knew the moment Michael walked through the locked door.

  “I should have called ahead. My apologies.”

  Lucifer didn’t look impressed. “I heard you had a run-in with a rogue and a fallen angel. I’m surprised you didn’t get here sooner.”

  “What makes you think would Izrafel tell me anything that would bring me here?”

  Lucifer raised an eyebrow.

  That Lucifer already had an idea what brought him here, made Michael think Izrafel’s concerns had merit. A sliver of self-satisfaction tickled his thoughts. Every once in a while, it was nice to have the upper hand. “I want in at Ubiquity.”

  “What happened to this is the stupidest idea any of you have ever come up with, and I won’t be a part of it?”

  “I need a new approach.” It was a safe answer. Whether or not Michael agreed with Ubiquity, or with heaven and hell’s goals there, no other place housed more information about potential cherubs. “I’m not asking. I’m letting you know as a courtesy.” Like Lucifer and the third original, Gabriel, Michael only answered to Him. Neither of Michael’s counterparts would stop him from walking into the job.

  Besides, he couldn’t ask flat out about the girl Izrafel mentioned.
Lucifer never answered direct questions. The best way for Michael to get his information would be to hang around the office and get to know this Uriel for himself.

  Lucifer stood. “You’re right. Do what you want. I don’t even care if you tell anyone who you are. Whatever your reasons are for being here, they’re your own.”

  Michael kicked back from the desk, more dirt falling around him and settling on the nauseating, busy carpet and stood. The mess wasn’t enough to obscure the cheap Vegas remnant. He paused on his way halfway to the door, and turned back to Lucifer. Asking probably wouldn’t get him a direct answer, but his curiosity won out. What kind of answer would it get him? “Is there A reason you jumped the queue and shoehorned the new demon into a spot at Ubiquity?” Michael asked.

  Lucifer’s expression stayed flat. “I’m sorry, which one?”

  That’s what Michael thought. A strange tingle raced over his skin as the air grew thick around them. The sensation of the atmosphere pressing in on him from all sides vanished almost before he registered it. He knew the feeling but wasn’t used to it happening in a flash like that. Someone just phased in. He spun toward the new arrival, and every inch of him froze.

  She barely came up to his chin. Black hair trailed down her back, and her tank top showed off smooth, pale skin. Brown pupils laced with red stared back at him, unblinking.

  Izrafel was right about the aura. Fractured and broken like a million shards of golden glass mixed with red and black. Michael couldn’t pull his gaze away. She was cute in a sexy, almost deceptively beautiful kind of way, but agents tended to be attractive. There was something else about her. Who was she?

  “Weren’t you leaving?” Lucifer’s irritation cut through the staring match.

  Michael would save the questions, at least until after his shower. “Yeah, I’m going.”

  There was something about the way she held herself. He shook his head to clear away the confusion. There would be time for details later. There was always time later.