“Go,” Michael ordered, “hunt everywhere. Call up all your contacts, no matter how questionable they may be. If this epidemic of incurable disease increases, we could see all human life on this planet destroyed, and that must not be. We must find Raphael—not just for us, not just for Israfel, but for the world.”
There was no argument—the Archangels vanished except for Gabriel, Raziel, and Uriel.
“Michael,” Raziel said, “I’m going to have to help with my powers. If medical science isn’t working because Raph’s missing, then I’ll use my power to make medical science appear to be part of my gift. It might not work,” he added, “but I have to try.”
“As you say.” Michael nodded. “Do not overdo it, however.”
“I’ll make sure of that,” Uriel growled.
“People are dying, Uri,” Raziel said.
“Yeah, people, not you. Carbon apes die all the time. You’re not dying, got it? Good.”
Raziel shook his head. “You’re impossible sometimes. Very well, come on, then.” He vanished a moment later.
“I’ll knock him unconscious if I have to,” Uriel promised. “He won’t be draining his power to save the planet.” Then he too was gone.
Michael and Gabriel exchanged a long look that Shateiel couldn’t begin to understand. Michael turned to him and Israfel and gave them a shallow bow. “Shateiel, Israfel. I will speak with you soon.” He was gone a moment later.
Gabriel moved to clap Shateiel’s shoulder. “You did good, Lieutenant,” he said. “You did exactly the right thing calling us all here. Now I’m going to send you on a mission you might not like.”
“Sir?” Shateiel was beginning to wonder if he’d ever lower his eyebrows again.
“I want you to go to Purgatory,” Gabriel said, “and see if you can find a trace of Raphael there.”
Shateiel took a deep, slow breath at that. He saluted smartly. “Yes, sir. I’ll report to you as soon as I return.”
“Good. Be careful,” Gabriel admonished.
Shateiel nodded. “I will, sir.” He turned to Israfel. “Israfel, we’ll do everything we can. If you do not wish to be alone, you are more than welcome to go to mine and Agrat’s home and stay for as long as you wish.”
Israfel wrapped his arms around himself. He looked very young all of a sudden, and very lost. Shateiel wanted to hug him but restrained himself.
“Thanks,” Israfel said. “I think I’ll do that. If you’re sure?”
“I am positive. Agrat speaks to me now and says you are to make yourself at home.”
Israfel gave him a shy smile. “Thank her for me? Though I guess I’ll see her before I see you, since you’re going to Purgatory.”
Shateiel hadn’t wanted to think about that part of his assignment, but he nodded. “I will see you soon.” He nodded to Gabriel and vanished, pulling his armor and weapons to him as he moved to the Himalayas and one of the few remaining gates that led to Purgatory.
ONCE Gabriel had said goodbye to Israfel, he moved to the Gobi desert and sat down. There was nothing but sand and rock and a few scrubby bushes. He rubbed his face with both hands and looked up at the sky.
How were they supposed to combat something as devastating as the failure of all medicine and medical science on the planet? How were they supposed to find Raphael? Gabriel had no idea where to begin looking and no idea what to do if Raphael couldn’t be found. This new crisis was, Gabriel thought, worse than the Seventy Years’ War had been.
“Gabriel.”
He turned at the sound of his name, the corners of his lips quirking in a small smile. “Hey, Mishka.”
Michael sat down on the sand in front of him. “I could hear you thinking from Paraguay, da bao.”
“I’m sorry.” Gabriel sighed and looked at Michael. Michael’s face was calm, serene, and here in the desert, he seemed very wise. At that moment, Gabriel wanted more than anything else to crawl into Michael’s lap and cling to him and not think.
“Da bao,” Michael said, moving closer and cupping Gabriel’s cheek with one hand, “we will find Raphael. I promise you. The peoples of this world will not die because their sicknesses and injuries cannot be healed.”
“How can you be so sure?” Gabriel wanted to believe Michael, but he couldn’t.
“Because I have something you have given me.” Michael smiled.
“What?” Gabriel frowned.
“Faith.” Michael’s smile grew. “Before we became lovers, I had faith in humans and our kind and in God. But it was a perfunctory thing. It came with me when I was made. It was not something I had to look for, and it was not something I ever questioned. But then we became lovers and the many, many years that I had loved you in silence and thought that would be all I would have became more. You loved—love—me in return. You want me as I want you. And your faith, Gabriel, your faith is boundless, like the sea, like God’s love. Your faith humbled me, and in so doing, I found my own faith for the first time, independent of being what I was made to be.
“I am God’s Chief Archangel, and I am the Commander in Chief of the Hosts of Heaven. I am the Archangel of Mercy, Judgment, Divine Will, and many other things. My titles weigh upon me most days. I dislike being called Prince of Heaven, and yet I am, for I was made to be. I never questioned the faith I had, for I always had it. Yet it was unchanged, stagnant—yes, even with the remarkable souls who come to work for Venatores Inc. Yet your faith in this world, these humans, our kind, is so overwhelming. It comes out of your experiences. It has evolved beyond what you were made with. It humbles me and it inspires me. Just as all of you, everything about you, Gabriel, inspires me. And so I have faith that we will find Raphael and all will be well.”
Gabriel stared at Michael, at a loss for what to say. It was an unusually long speech for Michael, and it was so sincere that for once, he found himself without a witty quip or a smartass remark.
“I see I have robbed you of speech,” Michael teased. “This is truly a day to be remembered.”
Gabriel laughed at that and pulled Michael into his arms. “I love you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “So very fucking much.”
“Language,” Michael said.
“Oh, bugger the language.” Gabriel kissed Michael once, then again. “I love you.”
“Language,” Michael insisted. “I love you, also.”
“Thank you.”
“As you so often say, there is naught to thank me for.” Michael kissed Gabriel’s forehead and disentangled himself from Gabriel’s arms. He stood up and held out a hand to his lover. “Let us find Raphael.”
Gabriel took the hand and pulled himself up. “Right you are.”
“SO, WHERE did you think to start looking?” Gabriel fell into step beside Michael as they walked through the desert.
“I thought to start in South America. There are always rebel forces there that seek to acquire things by force. Perhaps one of them has a shaman or a magician working with them.”
“Hm.” Gabriel rolled that around in his head for a minute. “It’s a good thought. I mean, it’d take someone with a lot of power to hide an angel, right? Let alone an Archangel.”
Michael suddenly stopped in his tracks. “Gabriel,” he said urgently, turning to face him, “is Raphael the first angel to have vanished?”
Gabriel blinked at him, taken aback by the question. “Aye. As far as I know.”
“Check. Please. Be sure.” Michael gripped Gabriel’s arm. “I am fearful that Raphael is not the first angel, but he is the first Archangel. There may be others, of the lesser choirs or angels who are not of any choir at all, like Israfel is not, who have vanished before him.”
Gabriel took a deep breath. “Fuck,” he said. “I hope you’re wrong, Mishka. I really, really hope you’re wrong.”
“So do I.” Michael shook his head. “Please check now? I will meet you in South America. I will be in Colombia.”
“Right.” Gabriel unfurled his wings, black-and-gray feathers rustl
ing. “I’ll see you there in a few hours.”
Michael nodded and disappeared, and Gabriel took wing, soaring up toward the clouds on a warm column of air.
A FEW hours later, Gabriel, grim-faced and worried, found Michael at a farmstead in rural Colombia. Michael was speaking with an old woman, gnarled and stooped, who gestured as she spoke. Gabriel waited until his lover ended his conversation, and when Michael bowed and thanked her, turning away to walk toward the gate of the farmstead, Gabriel moved to join him.
“Did she have anything useful to say?” Gabriel asked, although he already suspected the answer would be no.
“Not in so many words.” Michael sighed, frustration in his voice. “She did say that there were magicians who were able to create shields to hide themselves and objects of great power. Perhaps one such magician has created a shield to hide an angel.”
“Unfortunately, I ain’t got good tidings either.” Gabriel looked out over the countryside. “I went and did a headcount. Then I spoke to Metatron and the Dominions. We have a problem.”
“You are certain?” Michael looked stricken.
“Aye. We’re down five angels. They vanished without a trace. There’s no saying when or where ’cause as you thought, they weren’t part of a choir, so their uniqueness made ’em difficult to track when they disappeared.”
“Who is missing?”
Gabriel sighed. “Hurtapal, Angel of Sunday; Tatrusia, one of the childbed amulet angels; Praxil, Angel of Two A.M.; Barkiel, one of the guards of the Gates of the East Wind; and Lobkir, one of the guards of the Gates of the West Wind.”
Michael frowned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “There is no pattern to whom has been taken.”
“You think they’ve been kidnapped, then?”
“Yes. I do.” Michael looked at Gabriel. “What else could it be? Angels do not simply vanish. If one of us dies—and many of us have died recently, thanks to the war—we all feel it. The Host reels with it. We sing our dirges as we mourn or as we fight. We know. And even if we did not feel the deaths of those of our kind, Samael would know. Samael would guide their spirits to the Land of Light.”
Gabriel chewed his lower lip. “Aye, true, and Sammy had no idea what were going on, either.”
“No. If the Archangel of Death cannot confirm the deaths of our kind, then they are not dead.”
“I sent Shateiel to investigate Purgatory.” Gabriel was running over the other options. “I should go check Hell.”
“No.” Michael shook his head. “Send Uriel. I have need of you here.”
“Okay.” Gabriel didn’t question Michael’s decision. Right now, Michael was his CO, not his lover, and Michael would no doubt have a good reason for sending Uriel to search through Hell.
“Uriel guards the gates,” Michael said as if he had heard Gabriel’s thoughts. “So he will be best equipped to investigate without being seen. Too, he was the one who investigated the Grigori languishing in the Pit, and he did so without being noticed. He is experienced with investigating Gehenna.”
“So you want to tell him, or shall I?” Gabriel asked.
“I will. I need you to go to Raziel and ask him for a list of every powerful magician, witch, shaman, and magic user alive on this planet.”
Gabriel saluted. “Sir.”
Michael quirked an eyebrow. “Why so formal, da bao?”
Gabriel tilted his head to the side, and then he laughed. “I didn’t even realize. I fell into second-in-command mode there. You give me orders, I follow ’em.”
Michael smiled. “I am glad. You will go to Raziel, then?”
“Aye. Good luck with Uriel.” Gabriel pulled a face. “I think you’ll need it. He’ll be well mad at being told to leave Raz’s side.”
“Yes, I noticed he was hovering more than usual.” Michael hummed, pursing his lips. “I had wondered why.”
“He thinks Raz overdid it with sealing up all the portals, I reckon. There were a lot of them, after all. And only Raz could make sure they were sealed up tight and couldn’t be reopened by anyone, ever.”
Michael sighed. “I see. Another thing I must attend to.”
“Huh?”
“Giving time off. We must all take time to breathe, to collect ourselves, and to relax. Good soldiers work best with rest and relaxation time.”
“Aye, I ain’t gonna argue that.” Gabriel grinned, reached out to grip Michael’s shoulder with his left hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze. On his ring finger, the ring that Michael had given him so many years ago glinted in the sunlight. “Also, don’t take your ring off.”
“Pardon?”
“If you get nabbed—and don’t say you won’t, ’cause this situation with Raph has shown that anything could happen—don’t take the ring I made you off. I made it, it’s touched by my power and my Grace. I should be able to track it back to you.”
“I see.” Michael nodded slowly. “That was very clever.”
“Admittedly, I didn’t think of that when I were making it,” Gabriel said with a shrug. “I were just thinking I wanted to make a ring for you that symbolized how much I love you and how I’ve committed myself to you.”
“You are very sweet, Gabriel.” Michael leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss. “Later, when we have the leisure, I will thank you properly. Now, though, we must go and see Uriel and Raziel and speak with them about this new information.”
Gabriel nodded. “Let’s go do that, then. I think Raz is in Switzerland, in Geneva, with the World Health Organization. Uri’s with him.”
“Then let us go there.” Michael took Gabriel’s hand in his and moved them.
8
AS GABRIEL and Michael walked through the airy halls of the United Nations building in Geneva, they could hear shouting. Gabriel exchanged a look that spoke volumes with his lover—the shouting was largely incoherent, and it was Uriel’s voice.
They followed the sound and came to a large conference room. The door was open, and Gabriel and Michael stopped on the threshold and looked at the scene within.
A great many humans sat at a long conference table. At the head of the table, Raziel sat with his head in his hands and Uriel stood, waving his arms as he yelled at the humans who were glaring at him.
“Oh boy,” Gabriel murmured. “You wanna defuse this?”
“I will try,” Michael said. He drew himself up to his full height and marched into the room. Gabriel followed him.
“Uriel.” Michael strode to the Archangel of Judgment and took his arm. “Compose yourself.”
Uriel glared at Michael and Michael glared back. Finally, Uriel looked away and shut his mouth.
“Apologies, learned professors.” Michael gave a shallow bow to the assembled humans. “I hope you will excuse us.” He didn’t wait for an answer, propelling Uriel out of the room, and Gabriel touched Raziel’s shoulder lightly and jerked his head toward the door when Raziel looked up at him.
Raziel sighed and stood. He followed Michael and Uriel out, and Gabriel brought up the rear, closing the door of the conference room behind them.
“Uriel, you are to go to Hell.” Michael’s expression was stern and unyielding and, Gabriel thought, not a little sexy. “You are to shield yourself and search Hell for any sign or trace of Raphael. Go, now.”
“But—”
“Now,” Michael repeated, a flicker of gold light shining in his eyes.
Uriel, scowling, saluted and vanished.
Raziel let out an explosive breath. “Thank you,” he said. “Fuck, but he’s insufferable sometimes. I love him, but this overprotective kick of his is beginning to drive me to drink.”
Michael pinched the bridge of his nose. “Raziel, why was he so angry?”
“Because the humans didn’t believe me that the reason for the failure of medical science was due to a supernatural cause.” Raziel shrugged and lit a cigarette.
Gabriel laughed. “Smoking? In here?”
“I’m annoyed.” Raziel exhaled a cloud of smoke.
“This is my statement of annoyance.”
“At least you aren’t smashing the windows, I suppose,” Gabriel said, still amused.
“No, because I am not Uriel.” Raziel rolled his eyes. “You’d think he was the youngest of us, sometimes, not I.”
“I trust he will be in a better mood when he returns from Hell.” Michael looked up at the ceiling. “Now, I must go. Gabriel will fill you in.” He was gone a moment later, the sound of rustling feathers loud in the quiet hallway.
“Good idea sending Uri to check out Hell,” Raziel said as he started to walk toward the elevator. “He’ll sulk for a bit, but he’ll calm down faster having something to do.”
“Are you two okay, though?” Gabriel walked beside Raziel, their footsteps soft on the plush carpet of the floor. “I mean, you guys are still together, yeah?”
“Of course we are. Why wouldn’t we be?” Raziel shot Gabriel a confused look. “Just because we fight or disagree does not mean we don’t love each other. He infuriates me beyond all reason sometimes, but my love for him never wavers.”
“Okay, just checking.”
“Did you and Michael have your first lover’s spat?” Raziel grinned.
Gabriel huffed. “Sort of.”
“Aw, I’m so proud. The old men of the Brotherhood are all grown up and having lover’s tiffs.” Raziel laughed. “It’s healthy, Gabe, relax. So long as you two don’t come to blows and talk it out calmly after the fight, then make up, it’s fine. Communication is important. You can’t make a relationship work if you’re both silent like a tomb.”
Gabriel pulled a face. “I feel ridiculous getting love counseling from you.”
“I’m sure it must wound your manly pride.” Raziel snorted in derision. “Be grateful that it’s me and not Uriel. Although he may give Michael a dose of romance à la Uriel upon his return. And I, for one, would pay to see that.”
Gabriel shuddered. “I can’t imagine Uri’s advice would be good.”
“He’ll surprise you, then.” Raziel pressed the button for the elevator, and when the doors opened, he entered. Once Gabriel joined him and the doors quietly whooshed shut, he turned to face Gabriel, expression serious.
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