by Meg Collett
The music did nothing to help Clark’s concentration, but Clark enjoyed pissing Lucifer off. It was his new favorite pastime. He didn’t respond to Lucifer. The sweat continued rolling off his face, but he kept his attention on the match.
He took a deep breath and remembered how the fire had felt on the pads of his fingers. He felt that heat again, like a phantom pain. He pictured it, memorized it, and then extinguished it. The flame above the matched flickered and went out. He held up the match. “Ta-dah!”
Lucifer slapped his forehead just as Gabriel walked into the room. He walked over to the laptop and turned off the music. “What did I miss?”
“I can put out fire!” Clark said.
“From a match,” Lucifer said. He had sunk down on a bench. His hair looked disheveled for the first time. “For all I know he blew the damn thing out.”
“That’s so rude.” Clark tossed the match over his shoulder and plopped on a bench. “So did you win her back?” he asked Gabriel. Gabriel wasn’t wearing a shirt, which had to be a good sign.
Lucifer gagged. “I’m going to freshen up.” He pointed a long finger at Clark. “You better be able to put out real fire by the time I get back.” Clark flipped him off when he turned his back to walk to the door. “I saw that,” Lucifer said, slamming the door on his way out.
“I really hate him. Like, there is really nothing redeemable about his character.” Clark lit another match. “So how did it go?” The match went out. “Dude, it’s like every day, I impress myself.”
“Weird.”
“It’s really not that weird though,” Clark said. “I mean, like every single day, I do something to impress myself.”
“No, I mean it went weird with Michaela.” Gabriel sat on a workout bench as Clark extinguished yet another match.
“Oh.” Clark had run out of matches. He took a big swig of water before he asked, “How so?”
Gabriel only shrugged, his eyes faraway.
“Well, did she forgive you?”
“Maybe.”
“If I had a magic trick for all your one word answers, I could take on every Watcher with my eyes closed,” Clark said, rolling his eyes. He chugged more water.
“What you do isn’t magic tricks, Clark,” Gabriel said. He seemed to be paying attention now. “Freezing those Watchers in the pond wasn’t a trick. You saved a lot of people that night.”
Clark’s face turned sour, like he didn’t believe Gabriel. “Then what is it? Because we both know I can’t control it. I don’t even understand it.”
“It’s power.” Gabriel came over and stood in front of Clark. “Those markings on your arms are power. That’s why Lucifer wants you to control it. That’s why I wanted you to get away from Michaela until you could. And that’s why you feel that surge in your blood every time you use it. It’s power.”
“It’s not very powerful if I can’t use it,” Clark said. He took another drink.
“You can though.” Gabriel grabbed the water bottle from Clark’s lips.
“I was drinking that,” Clark said, raising his eyebrows.
“Come on. Freeze it. It’ll be way easier than the pond you froze,” Gabriel said. He waved the half-empty bottle in front of Clark’s face.
“I had a lot of incentive then.”
“Okay.” Gabriel nodded, agreeing. His black eyes were bright. “You freeze it, and I’ll tell you what happened with Michaela.”
Clark narrowed his eyes. “In complete sentences. With actual words. No grunting or shrugging.”
“Fine.” Gabriel widened his stance and held the bottle out in front of him. “Do it.”
“Don’t command me like a dog, bro. I have to think about it.”
Clark looked at the water bottle. The water sloshed, leaving little droplets to slide down the inside of the plastic. Clark thought about his sweat and how it had felt like a spider crawling on his face. He recalled the fire sliding, burning the match, eating away the wood until it met the sensitive pads of his fingers. He saw the pond and Michaela shivering beside it as she clutched the seals. He heard the water crackling in his ears as it turned to ice.
Those thoughts slowed his breathing until he saw Michaela’s face in his vision. She morphed into Sophia, their features sliding and merging. His heart echoed once. He didn’t sense the words slowly rise from the corners of his mind. They were right on the tip of his tongue, springing from his mouth before he could even think about them.
The water bottle caught fire. It was a soundless, heatless, green fire. The flames licked far above Clark and Gabriel’s heads like an emerald gem. Just as fast, the flames went out. The water burst from the bottle, splintering the plastic like shrapnel. As the water shot out, it turned to ice, embedding into the walls like daggers on either side of where Clark and Gabriel stood.
There was nothing in Gabriel’s hand as he slowly lowered it. The ice slivers in the walls melted, leaving watery traces behind. The plastic curled on the floor like it was in a fire and melted into the air.
Clark’s eyes slowly came back to Gabriel’s. They didn’t speak. Gabriel’s eyes lightened until his irises were a deep gunmetal, completely separate from the black of his pupils.
“Listen to me, Clark.” Clark’s eyes jerked back to Gabriel’s. “Do not tell Lucifer about this. Don’t tell him you can do this.”
“What was that?” Clark asked. He searched the floor for remnants of his trick, but there was nothing there.
“You controlled the elements and their forms. It’s amazing. I don’t know if a Watcher could even do that,” Gabriel said.
“But a Watcher can do anything.” Clark’s fingers were going numb. He felt cold even though he was sweating moments before.
“Almost. They can light a fire that won’t burn. They can control air and brew storms.” Gabriel paused. He grabbed Clark’s shoulder and squeezed until it hurt. “They can kill an angel without bone.”
“That’s powerful,” Clark whispered.
“And you can do more than that.” Gabriel released his grip.
Clark staggered back and sat on a bench. “Now I’m thirsty, and I don’t have anything to drink.”
Gabriel sat next to Clark. “We had sex.”
Clark choked. “Say what?”
“Michaela and I had sex. You wanted to know what happened. Well, that’s what happened.”
Clark looked over at Gabriel, studying his profile. The angel looked everywhere but at Clark. “Dude!” Clark exclaimed, getting it. “Hate sex! Did she tie you up?”
“No. She did not.” Gabriel shot Clark a look like he thought Clark was crazy.
“You missed out. I bet if you piss her off even more, she’ll tie you up,” Clark said, bobbing his head.
“The plan is not to piss her off anymore.”
“Sometimes you do it just for fun. So you can make up,” Clark said.
“No.”
“Your loss.” Clark reclined but couldn’t find a comfortable spot. His eyelids were getting heavy. Whatever he’d just done with the water bottle made him tired.
“I asked her to take some time and decide if she would forgive me. I think she might consider it,” Gabriel said.
“That’s good.” Clark ran a hand through his hair, feeling its dirty, spiky strands.
Gabriel shrugged. “We’ll see.”
“You forgave her after she let the hybrids go. So she’ll forgive you for being a dick and taking her pieces of rocks,” Clark said. He yawned.
“They were ancient scrolls,” Gabriel said, clarifying. “And I never forgave her, because there was nothing to forgive. Yes, I was mad. But I know why she let them loose. Even if I had known what she did before I signed my soul over to Lucifer, I still would’ve done it to save her. I would do anything to protect her. I never meant to be angry. There was just so much rage and hate inside me after what I did that I just couldn’t stop it from spilling out and ruining the one thing I loved.”
Clark didn’t speak. His eyes were on the
floor. It was the most Gabriel had ever shared with him, and he couldn’t help but warm to the guy. He understood the kind of pain that made you lash out at those you loved. He had done it every day with his father. And now his father was an old, injured man with nothing but mostly hateful memories with his son. Clark cleared his throat. “Well, I’m sure it’s the same with her. She’s kind of a pain in the ass, but she’s not completely unreasonable.”
Gabriel let out a laugh and almost smiled. He clapped Clark on the back so hard Clark’s teeth snapped. “She’s that all right. Let’s get you back to your room before Lucifer comes back.”
Clark stood and followed Gabriel to the door. “Have I ever mentioned what a total d-bag that guy is?”
“Many times, actually.”
38
Gabriel had known a time would come in this battle against the Aethere when something bad would happen. It would be directed at Michaela, because the Aethere and the Watchers wouldn’t rest until she was eliminated. It was a fact Gabriel had accepted.
What he hadn’t accepted was that he wouldn’t be with Michaela when it happened.
When the bad thing happened, he was with Clark, talking about his crush on a Nephil. It was nothing important, but Gabriel had found himself smiling and laughing at Clark’s outrageous ideas. He had been laughing when he should’ve been with Michaela.
He wasn’t where he was supposed to be, and his loyal fallen couldn’t find him.
When they did, they’d barged in, faces drawn. “You need to get to the compound.”
“Why?” Gabriel looked up and asked.
“Something’s happened.”
“Is it Michaela?”
Silence.
Michaela was in danger. He didn’t stick around for the fallen to explain. Too much time had passed already. Anything could’ve happen.
She could be dead.
Gabriel flew faster than ever before. His vision grayed, and from within his ears came a vibrating hum. The muscles along his back screamed in agony, but he pressed his wings even harder. The fallen couldn’t keep up as Gabriel streaked across the expanse of dead earth below. He could fly fast. Normally the distance to Pennsylvania was nothing, but now it was everything.
His body was a tool. His mind an unemotional machine. His heart was commanded to stop beating. He was only a streak across an ugly night sky. He was nothing until he got to her.
When he reached the shallow valley, he didn’t slow. He dove, crashing through the bare, frozen tree branches without feeling a thing as they tore into him. The ground was a second away. He could see every blade of brown, broken grass, see the frozen, ruined dirt. Only then did he pull his feet underneath him.
There was no time to slow his momentum, so he hit the ground with a powerful boom that cracked the earth. Crouching, he sniffed, waiting until he smelled the group of angels. And blood. There was a lot of blood.
He reached the group quickly. They weren’t far from where he landed. As he drew into the dark clearing, he noticed the bent and broken tree trunks, the dirt torn to shreds. On the ground were injured fallen angels and a few Nephilim. The flickering light from lanterns cast creeping, flickering shadows over the dead. Other, unhurt Nephilim walked among the wounded, helping with the worst of their pains. Gabriel spotted the Archangels amongst those helping the injured.
“Simiel!” The Archangel was at Gabriel’s side before his entire name was even out of Gabriel’s mouth. “Where’s Michaela?”
The Archangel’s expression withered under Gabriel’s desperation. He grabbed Simiel’s arm and squeezed. “We knew it was a terrible plan, but she was so certain it would work.”
The Archangel’s eyes drifted to where four to five Nephilim stood around one particular angel. Gabriel caught sight of her black hair lying on the ground. He released Simiel and sprung into the air. He was above the group with only half a beat of his wings.
Gabriel dropped to the ground with a gust of wind. He fell straight to his knees beside Michaela’s head. His hand hovered above her hair, unsure where he could touch that wouldn’t hurt her. She met his eyes, and he saw the pain in hers. Blood clumped in her hair. A large trail ran from her hairline and down the side of her face. The Nephil wiped it away, searching for the source.
“Michaela, don’t move.” A petite Nephil with reddish blond hair dabbed a wet cloth against Michaela’s face.
Michaela’s lips were split and swollen. Blood oozed from between her lips where someone had punched her in the mouth—hard. Deep cuts lined the right side of her face as if she’d been slammed into a tree trunk. The light from the lanterns made her skin look extra waxy and pale.
Her breathing was shallow around broken ribs. Her shirt stuck to wet, bloodied places along her chest. But when Gabriel saw her leg, he froze.
It was broken. That much was obvious, even in the dark. Jagged bone poked out from where they’d torn through her flesh. This is where the Nephilim worked. They cut open her pant leg, revealing dirty blood and angry flesh. A thick tree limb was embedded in the flesh of her calf.
A hand touched his arm. He struggled to pull his eyes away from the devastation. A Nephil was staring at him, willingly touching him. “We need you to hold her down. When we reset the bones, she will be in a lot of pain. Our magic won’t make it feel any better, but it’s for her own good.”
Gabriel could only nod.
“Make sure you have a good grip,” another Nephil said. He placed his hand on the twisted, curved angle of Michaela’s ankle and shook his head.
“Ready?”
Gabriel positioned over Michaela’s chest so they were nearly nose-to-nose. He tucked his arms around her back, lifting her slightly off the ground and pinning her arms to her side. He cradled her head against the side of his neck. He signaled to the Nephilim that he was ready.
Their whispers gave him chills, but he didn’t focus on that. Michaela didn’t react at first. Gabriel almost slackened his grip. But then he heard a bone snap back into place with a creaking pop. Her entire body stiffened before she screamed.
He didn’t know how many bones she’d broken. There were too many pops and cracks to count. His efforts were spent trying to restrain Michaela. Her writhing was powerful, fueled by agony and rage. She screamed until her voice was raw. Her tears spread across his neck and trickled down the collar of his jacket. Every single second he held her was torture. Her pain broke loose on his insides and shredded him.
Finally, when he thought he could bear no more, the Nephilim straightened and grew silent. Michaela was shivering, her skin slick and clammy. Her teeth chattered in his ear. Her whimpers nearly undid him, because she had to be in extreme pain to allow herself to sound so weak.
“It’s over.”
Gabriel looked up at the Nephil who spoke. “What is it?” he asked. The Nephil looked worried.
“We can’t take the other fallen inside the compound with us. It will scare the people,” the Nephil said.
“I’m going with her,” Gabriel said. He wasn’t leaving Michaela’s side.
“That’s fine. We can sneak you in the back way. We will stay out here and care for those who are injured.”
Gabriel rose from the ground, holding Michaela in his arms. Her eyes were closed, but her lips were moving as if she were speaking in her sleep. Her leg looked limp and useless. Gabriel wondered if she would walk with a limp from now on.
“Why are you doing this?” he nodded to the fallen on the ground, and the Nephilim helping them. “Why are you helping fallen?”
“They saved her. Some died protecting her. And we protect Michaela. For this fight, we were allies, and we help our friends,” the Nephil said. His brown eyes were grave. A full beard covered his face. Blood covered his white shirt.
“What happened?” Gabriel asked.
“I’m not sure. Pardon me.” The Nephil went to help other angels, leaving Gabriel alone with Michaela. He had forgotten the other Nephil with red hair was standing beside him.
&nbs
p; “We need to get her inside. I’m Sophia by the way.” The little Nephil motioned him to follow her. Gabriel immediately realized who she was. She had to have known he was the one who’d taken Clark, yet she still helped him.
“Thank you,” he said.
“Put your hood up. We are going in the back, but I don’t want you to freak out a human.”
Clark had told him she was bossy, so Gabriel did as he was instructed. Michaela didn’t move in his arms as they made their way back to the hatch. It was opened before they could even knock. A Nephil stood at the bottom of the steps, his eyes flickering between them and the narrow hall.
“Everyone’s asleep,” the Nephil told Sophia. “The infirmary is full. We can take her straight to her room.”
Sophia nodded. As quietly as possible, they made their way down the hall. They passed a tired-looking human. But the woman didn’t even look up as they brushed by.
The humans were a numb horde of half-dead people, and they were the reason they fought this war. The thought baffled Gabriel when he tried to reconcile all he had lost and sacrificed for these humans, yet they didn’t even notice when he passed by, carrying a severely wounded Michaela.
“Here you go,” Sophia said. She opened a metal door that didn’t quite align right with the frame. It hit the ground and would only open so far. Gabriel had to squeeze through sideways to keep from hitting Michaela’s leg. There was an actual bed in the room, which Gabriel was thankful for. Sophia pulled back the fresh sheets, and Gabriel lowered Michaela onto them. Together they positioned the quilt around her body.
“There’s fresh water over there.” Sophia pointed to the table beside the bed. “And if her leg starts bleeding again during the night, there’s gauze and basic medical supplies in the drawer. If she gets too bad, I’m in the next room to the left. Come get me. No one else. We don’t want everyone to know she was injured.”
