Michael heaved a deep sigh. “I confess that I have wondered this also. Purgatory is, I feel, the kindest option, but it does have problems, for it is not designed for humans, and witches are still human despite having magical talent. And what of those witches who have family and loved ones who are human without any magic? All those relationships will be broken and torn asunder. It is a cruel thing these people intend to do, Gabriel, and it grieves me.”
“Which is a good reason not to show any mercy to them,” Gabriel said. “I know you think there’s still a chance for redemption or repentance, but I ain’t so forgiving. Transom wants to destroy at least a quarter of the world’s population. They want to instigate this isolationist ideal as some sort of Utopia, when it ain’t that at all. Life is full of diversity and evolution, it can’t stay stagnant.”
“You are going somewhere with this train of thought, yes?”
“I am. I think we should just burn Transom with holy fire. All of it. All of them. Everyone who works there, who subscribes to their ideology. Complete obliteration.”
“Genocide.” Michael’s voice was brittle. “You speak of genocide.”
“And who better to do so, when I’ve done that before?” Gabriel canted his head to one side. “Dear one, I know there are variables, and our beloved Ishtahar and the Purgatorian, Arthur, will ferret them out. But for the rest, all these people who have knowingly and eagerly embraced Transom’s plan and worked with them to see it done… what do they deserve?”
“This is not the time of Moses, and Transom is not the Pharaoh, refusing to let Moses’s people go,” Michael said.
“No, it ain’t. And yet there are a lot of similarities. Conform or be banished or die. Do as we say, not as you choose. No law is worth anything ’cept for our law. Conform, conform, conform.”
“Gabriel….” Michael suddenly looked very old and very tired. “I want to argue this. And it breaks my heart that my arguments are feeble. I cannot do this, however. I cannot be a part of what you propose.”
“I don’t want you to be. I’m strong enough to do it and bear the weight of it. How many civilizations have I slaughtered in my life, Mishka? I’ve lost count. And I’m still here, still sane. Well, relatively sane. But that’s my job. When push comes to shove, and there are things like this that need to be dealt with, I’m the one that does it.”
“Will you accept a compromise?”
“What sort?”
“Let us see what their souls are like. We will catch them all, that much is certain. But before you destroy the lives and souls of all of Transom—and I speak not of the witches, for we have already decided that is their fate—let us be sure they are as bad as we assume. Of course, you and Uriel will wish to set fire to something, Uriel particularly, so I expect you both to destroy the facility and all the things within it once Raziel has removed the notes he requires. But the people… let us have Tzadkiel and Remiel examine their souls before we unleash Saint Gabriel the Destroyer of Civilizations.”
Gabriel smiled faintly at the title. “Okay. That’s fair. I can’t ask for better than that.”
“I am glad.” Michael moved closer and leaned into Gabriel, his arms slipping around Gabriel’s waist as he hugged him tightly. “I am fearful,” Michael went on, his voice muffled against Gabriel’s chest. “I am fearful for what may befall this beautiful planet and all life upon it. I am fearful that we may just make things worse. And I am fearful that Transom will win, and that I will see all those who are touched by magic die in a myriad of painful ways and not be able to assist them.”
“Solnyshko.” Gabriel wrapped his arms around Michael and held him tight. He kissed Michael’s hair and rubbed his back with one hand. “I know what you mean. I feel that too.”
“It is dreadful,” Michael said.
“Aye, that it is.”
“I have prayed,” Michael said. “God did not speak to me, but He did lay His hand upon my Grace. He has faith in me and our Brotherhood and this alliance with the Archdemons and Lucifer. He believes we will triumph in this. But I fear that the price of victory may be very, very high.”
Gabriel sighed softly and nodded. “The thought occurred to me, too.”
“We are thinking many of the same things in this situation, it seems.”
“Aye.” Gabriel hummed as he ran his hands up and down Michael’s back. It was a gentle touch, intended to soothe Michael as much as Gabriel himself. And while it was certainly true that he desired Michael most of the time, right now, Gabriel wanted nothing more than this. He wanted to hold his beloved and be held in turn, to stand on the island that was their private home, and to listen to the sounds of Earth and creation.
They stood together for some time, and the sun was slowly starting to dip beneath the horizon when Michael finally let out a sigh and stepped back out of Gabriel’s embrace. “Let us go inside,” he said.
Gabriel mustered up a smile. “Okay.”
Michael took Gabriel’s hand in his, and together, they began to walk down to the sheltered valley where their house stood surrounded by palm and tropical fruit trees.
“It is strange, is it not? I find that when I am here with you, I desire you greatly and wish to spend time being intimate with you. Yet here we are, and I require nothing more than this, holding your hand and being at your side.”
“I feel the same,” Gabriel said. “I think it’s ’cause we’ve got that feeling of waiting for the hammer to fall.”
“As you say.” Michael climbed the shallow steps to the veranda of the house and then stopped. “I hope we win, Gabriel. I hope that victory is ours. I hope that this happens with every fiber of my being.”
Gabriel reached out and cupped Michael’s cheek with his free hand. “As do I. I know we’re both a bit gloomy right now, but I reckon we’ll win. We’ve got all of our kind, Ishtahar, Hiwa, Ahijah, the shifters and our other allies and Minnie and Max. Not to mention our Archdemon allies and Lucifer himself. With God watching over us all, that’s a lot of power and a lot of talent. We’ll win this and we’ll prevail. And the Earth and all on her will be free.”
Michael nodded. “I shall hold on to your words. They are full of hope and I fear that I am too pessimistic to muster up hope of my own at this moment.”
“Gabe, Mike, if you’re not busy, can you get back here to Portland please?” It was Raziel.
Gabriel quirked an eyebrow at Michael and then he answered the telepathic call. “Aye, we can be there in half an hour. What’s up?”
“I think I’ve got a way to neutralize our synthetic magic witches. But I don’t want to telepathically tell you in case someone else can hear.”
“That’s good news and fair enough. We’ll be there soon.”
“Good. See you soon.” Raziel’s voice was gone.
“And there, you see, we have some good news,” Gabriel said, smiling at Michael.
Michael returned the smile, and while it was tinged with sadness, it was also full of love. “As you say. Let us return to Portland, then.”
“One moment.” Gabriel moved to Michael and pulled him into his arms. Then he kissed him, a slow glide of love and desire, passion and heat, trust and joy. “Remember that I love you.”
“I would never forget. I love you as well.”
Gabriel ended the kiss and rested his forehead against Michael’s. “Then we’re awesome.”
“As you say.” Michael smiled and touched Gabriel’s cheek. “Let us go.”
“Aye.” Gabriel moved them then, from the soft, warm climate of Belle Coeur to the bright midday of Portland, Oregon.
UNBEKNOWNST TO Gabriel, while he and Michael had been discussing the possibility of mass murder, Raziel and Uriel had been engaged in a rather clandestine activity. Raziel had been more than pleased with the results of the work he had done with Professor Blanc and while Uriel had looked utterly bored the entire time, Raziel himself felt nothing more profound than something akin to fiendish glee.
Of course, Raziel would not
admit to such a thing, especially when Uriel kept rolling his eyes or sighing dramatically or looking pointedly at the clock each time Raziel turned from his equations to look at him. Raziel had asked Uriel at one point why he was waiting when he was so obviously bored out of his mind, and Uriel had shrugged and said, “Why not?” It had proven to Raziel that Uriel was either very devoted or very patient. He already knew that Uriel was very stubborn.
So now, the two of them were walking through Silverton, Colorado. It was beautiful here, Raziel thought as he sauntered along.
“So we’re playing at bait, huh?” Uriel grinned at him, showing his teeth. Raziel had the sudden urge to give him a bone or dog treat.
“Quite.”
“And then we kidnap our would-be kidnapper and ’port?”
“Indeed.”
Uriel cackled. Raziel rather thought he sounded like a hyena. “Fucking excellent.”
“No killing,” Raziel admonished. “Not yet, anyway.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. You need to test your magical theory of wonder,” Uriel said. “Although, I think managing to nab one of that coven would be a damn miracle.”
“It’s a long shot, I’ll give you that,” Raziel said, “but it never hurts to try. We may get lucky.”
“Well, I’m all for it. Sure beats sitting around watching you scribble balderdash.”
Raziel sighed. “Uri, science is not balderdash.”
“Is to me.” Uriel suddenly stopped walking. “Isn’t that one of the witches of synthetic magic? Over there, looking in the window of the music store.”
Raziel looked across the street and blinked, surprised. Uriel was right. The unique signature of the magic hovered around the young man like a miasma, a dirty green-brown color, unwholesome and unnatural. The thought occurred to Raziel that this was a trap, but Uriel was, much to his surprise, a step ahead of him.
“I scanned the area. No other witches like that around for a two-mile radius. If we’re going to get him, we do it now.”
“Uri, sometimes you positively amaze me,” Raziel said. “Come on, then.”
Together, they crossed the street, moving as one to stand on either side of the young man. He stiffened as soon as he realized who and what they were, and Raziel could feel the fear suddenly roiling from him in waves.
“You know who we are, right?” Uriel was saying, his voice low and menacing. “And you know what we can do. If you try and get in touch with your coven, if you make a sound right now, I will snuff your life out as if you were a candle flame. You’ll die in agony—I can do that—and no one will be any the wiser. Your soul will go straight to Hell, where you’ll enjoy the full extent of Lucifer’s hospitality. So keep your mouth shut and your powers reined in. Nod once if you understand me.”
The young man did so, and although he was shaking so hard that Raziel was a little surprised they couldn’t hear his teeth rattle, he didn’t make any noise.
“Now,” Uriel said, “all three of us are going to walk around that corner and then we’re going to take you some place very nice. Then we’re going to have a chat.”
The young man let out a soft whimper. “They’ll miss me….”
“I don’t care. March.” Uriel placed a hand on the young man’s shoulder and together, the three of them walked down the street to the corner and turned down the narrow alleyway. Shrouded in the shadows of tall buildings on either side, Raziel placed his own hand on the young man’s shoulder, on top of Uriel’s, and moved them.
He took them some distance away, to a spot on the island of Guam. It was a spot he was very familiar with, since it was home to one of his laboratories on Earth. When they emerged in the warded and protected property, just outside the front door, Raziel smirked at Uriel.
“Welcome to Guam,” he said.
The young man gave voice to another whimper. “G-Guam?”
“Yeah. Rhymes with calm. Which we are and you aren’t.” Uriel sneered. “What the hell made you think you could take on angels and demons and come out of this unscathed, you pissant little runt?”
“Now, now, Uri, let’s get him comfortable before we start asking questions,” Raziel said.
“Oh all right. I miss the old days, Razzy. If this were the Seventy Years War, we would’ve just tied him up and tortured him.”
“I know you’re a purist, but we live in a brave new world. No setting fire to people. Not yet, anyway,” Raziel said.
Uriel sighed theatrically. “You never let me have any fun. How am I supposed to sanctify anything if I can’t burn it with holy fire first?”
“Y-you’re Uriel,” the young man said, “you’re worse than G-Gabriel. I’ve heard about you!”
“My reputation precedes me,” Uriel said. He grinned. “I’m famous.”
“So it seems,” Raziel said, trying not to laugh. “Now, young man, forward march.”
They went into the large building that housed Raziel’s laboratory, and inside, Raziel steered their prisoner into an office room and shoved him none to gently down into an armchair. The young man looked utterly confused to be sitting in a comfortable seat surrounded by art on the walls and a coffee machine, a table littered with magazines and books in front of him and a large, well-cared-for fern by the window.
Raziel sat down opposite him and Uriel leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. They were playing roles as old as time, what was known as good cop, bad cop, and Raziel was a little amused at how easily and quickly he and his beloved fell into them.
“Coffee?” Raziel asked the young man.
He shook his head.
“Suit yourself. What’s your name?”
“You can pull that out of my head, so why should I tell you?”
“Ah, it bites back!” Raziel leaned back in his seat. “I could pull it out of your head, yes, but I’d rather not damage you. It’s actually more for your sake that I ask. Unless you want me to do that, then… you have some very painful desires, young man.”
He gulped, looking at Raziel with wide eyes. Then he licked his lips. “I’m Jonathon.”
“Jonathon. Well, Jonathon, welcome to my laboratory on the island of Guam. I have some questions for you. I know you think you won’t answer them or that I’ll rip what I need out of your skull, but the truth is, we don’t really want to hurt you. Humans aren’t our enemy. But you and your witchy friends are working with a group who want to do a great deal of harm to not just us but the whole of creation, and that tends to make my kind and I a little bit tetchy.”
Jonathon regarded him inscrutably for a moment and then leaned forward. His expression had become one of wild hope and Raziel had to force himself not to raise an eyebrow.
“I want something in exchange for my information.”
“And what would that something be?” Raziel asked.
“I want out.”
“Pardon?” Raziel was blindsided by the simple statement.
“What do you mean, ‘out’?” Uriel demanded.
“Out of the coven. Out of TCC Corp. I want to be myself again and be able to go home. Can you do that?”
Raziel looked over at Uriel. “Is he defecting?”
“It seems like it. What the hell is going on here, Razzy?”
“I have no idea.” Raziel turned back to Jonathon. “I’m afraid you’ll have to tell us why you want out. I had assumed that your entire group was dedicated to TCC’s great plan.”
“No. No, we’re not. Several of us hate it, and we don’t want to be a part of it. But we had no choice.”
“There’s always a damn choice,” Uriel growled.
“Not when they’re holding your family hostage,” Jonathon shot back. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter now.” He angrily wiped tears from his eyes. “They killed my parents and my little sister as part of their fucking experiments.”
Raziel frowned. “I’m going to have to scan your mind to make sure you’re telling the truth.”
“Do it. Take all the information in my head while you�
��re there. I give you permission.”
Raziel shook his head, astounded by the turn this situation had taken. “If I do that, it will cause you a lot of pain. I’d rather you just told us what you know and I can surface scan your mind to make sure it’s all true.”
Jonathon slumped in his seat. “Do what you want. It doesn’t matter now.”
Raziel felt himself frown and he reached out with his power, carefully probing the mind of the young man. He could feel a great deal of turmoil inside Jonathon’s head, the whirling of emotions that boiled together in confusion—anger, pain, sorrow, hurt, betrayal. And he could see that every word Jonathon had told them was true. He pulled his power back and sat forward. “I’m sorry about your family,” he said softly.
Jonathon nodded. “Thanks. You know, they didn’t even say that? Not one single apology or word of compassion. They call you heartless, but now I know the truth: they’re the heartless ones.”
“We can’t bring your loved ones back,” Uriel said. “All we can offer you now is vengeance.”
Jonathon nodded again. “That’s all I have left. I’ll take it.”
Raziel let out a sad sigh. “They were treated the same way as the sick in the facility in the town of Yaak were, weren’t they?”
“Yeah. For the greater good, they said. Greater good, my ass. What greater good is there in doing what they do? It’s all bullshit.”
“So have they managed to succeed in their aims of creating guardians for gates they want to close between all the realities?” Raziel asked.
“No. They’re not nearly as far along as they’d like everyone to believe. No one has survived their experiments.”
“We’ve heard that there are a few people who have actually been cured of fatal illness,” Raziel began slowly, “and that they are treated in a private clinic.”
“Oh, they can do that all right.” Jonathon snorted. “But that isn’t what they want. They can’t figure out how to keep the gates all closed. They can shut them for a time, ten, fifteen minutes at most. But nothing more than that.”
A Candle in the Sun Page 8
