“Okay.” Remiel did as Raziel asked and sat down between Haniel and Samael.
Gabriel quirked an eyebrow at the youngest Archangel. “So what’s so important to warrant all this shielding and stuff?” He waved a hand vaguely at Raziel’s collection of papers and the computer.
“I’m getting to it.” Raziel scrubbed his face with one hand. He looked tired, Gabriel thought. Uriel obviously had the same thought, for his face contorted into a scowl, and he moved to Raziel.
“Can’t this wait while you have a rest?”
“No, Uri.” Raziel gave him a tired smile. “It can’t, I’m afraid. I’ll rest later. Work now.”
Uriel’s scowl deepened. “I don’t like it.”
“Duly noted.” Raziel kissed Uriel’s cheek, a gesture that didn’t lessen the scowl at all. “Take a seat and I’ll get on with this.”
“Fine.” Uriel did as he was told, sitting close and watching Raziel like a hawk.
“All right then,” Raziel said by way of calling the meeting to order. “This is both a report and a collection of suspicions. I’ll get the report out of the way first.
“Uriel told me that Hiwa was in Russia, in a prison, having been arrested for murder. He’s covered with Russian prison tats, which are a language all of their own, and I don’t have time to read them all and figure out exactly what his story is, but from my quick glance, I would say that he is quite high in the echelons of the crime bosses in Russia and one of their go-to hit men. He is, however, devoted to his mother. From what Uriel said, Hiwa was prepared to set aside his life of crime outside of prison to go to Ishtahar. I count that as a good thing.
She’s glad to have him here, isn’t she, Remi?”
Remiel nodded. “Yeah, really glad. She hasn’t spoken about it, but she’s missed the boys. Seeing them, regardless of circumstance, makes her happy.”
“Okay, good.” Raziel picked up his mug of beer and took a long drink. “Mm, good beer,” he murmured, and then he went on with his report. “Tzadkiel, Brieus, Sophiel, and I went to South America in search of Ahijah. All reports I had indicated he was somewhere down there, so we followed the signature of his half-angel soul. Surprisingly, he managed to trick us—a lot. It took us nearly a week to find him, when I gather it took you guys less than a day to find Hiwa.” Raziel nodded to Uriel, Samael, Shateiel, and Agrat.
“Yes, it was quite easy to find Hiwa,” Agrat said with a nod. “I mean, he was in jail, and it’s not as if he could really hide too well in there.”
“Well, he might have, if he’d had knowledge to suggest that it would be prudent to do so.” Raziel took another deep breath. “We caught up with Ahijah eventually, in Bolivia. He’s a priest now. Says he’s been one for some centuries, ended up in Bolivia when the Spanish invaded. I’m not entirely convinced, actually. There were a lot of incidental things that, taken by themselves, would mean nothing, but taken together as a whole, are alarming.”
“Such as?” Gabriel asked.
“I think he’s sheltering Nephilim.”
Silence met that statement. Then Uriel burst out laughing.
Gabriel blinked, startled by Uriel’s reaction. He wasn’t the only one, Michael’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline and Raziel looked at Uriel as if he’d gone mad. Uriel pounded his fist on his knee as he guffawed.
“Oh, that’s a good one, Razzy,” he said between his laughter, “damn good joke!”
“Uri?” Raziel was looking at Uriel with bemusement. “I’m not actually joking.”
Uriel stopped laughing. “You’re not?”
“Ah, no.” Raziel pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why me?” he muttered, and then he looked at Uriel. “I believe a few of the Nephilim managed to survive Gabriel’s genocide and your little Flood, and Ahijah is protecting them.”
“Bullshit.” Uriel glared.
“If you please, sir,” Sophiel said in a diffident voice, “Lord Raziel is right. We saw traces and Ahijah himself said some things that gave myself and Lord Raziel pause.”
“Yeah, well, it’s still bullshit.” Uriel stood up, resting his hands on the table and glaring at everyone. “I’m going to go and drag Ahijah out of that house and hit him. I’ll keep hitting him until he tells me what the hell is going on.”
“Oh sit down, Uriel,” Michael said. “You will do no such thing. Huff and puff to yourself, and to your beloved if you must, but you will not assault Ahijah in such a way.”
Raziel blinked. “Well now. That’s a turnaround. Am I missing something?”
Michael sighed heavily. “I fear that you are correct. There are some few Nephilim surviving from the days of the Flood and Gabriel’s... chastisement of them.”
“You say chastisement, they say slaughter,” Brieus remarked.
“Be still.” Michael glared at him, and Brieus cowered back behind Tzadkiel. “I spoke with God. Metatron will back me up on this. Any survivors who are Nephilim are to be left alone. As you suggest, Raziel, there are not many. They are not mating or breeding. They are simply living. Until they try to breed, God is at peace with them. So, yes, Uriel, you will do nothing.”
Uriel looked aghast. Gabriel thought that Uriel looked rather a lot as if Michael had taken away all of his toys and locked him in a room. Pouting, Uriel sat back down and slouched.
“Fine,” he grumbled, looking like a petulant child.
“As you say.” Michael turned back to Raziel. “Please continue your report.”
“Wow. Right. Yes.” Raziel shook himself. His eyes suddenly narrowed. “Wait just a cotton-picking minute. I didn’t come down in the last shower. You’re up to something, Michael.”
Michael did not meet Raziel’s gaze, and Gabriel suddenly felt a sense of foreboding.
“You’re using them,” Raziel said in astonishment. “As bait for Semjaza!”
“Yes,” Michael admitted. He looked down at the tabletop. “It is not admirable. If necessary, I will use these surviving Nephilim as a means to get to Semjaza. It will be only as a last resort, however. I will not use them unless there is no other option.”
“Holy crap,” Tzadkiel said. He looked as stunned as Gabriel felt.
“You got that right,” Gabriel agreed. “Why didn’t you say something, Mishka?”
Michael shot him a quick look. “I was going to,” he admitted, “but then Raziel called this meeting, and... here we stand.”
“Wow.” Gabriel shook his head. “Well, that makes this game a little more interesting.”
Uriel huffed. “If you fucking say so.”
“Uri,” Gabriel said, “if Michael ends up using the Nephilim as bait, that means that sooner or later, you will be able to slice and dice them.”
Uriel blinked. Then he smiled. “Okay. I’m all for this, then.”
Raziel rolled his eyes ceilingward. “Oh, Uriel,” he sighed.
“I have not decided that they are to be used as yet,” Michael said. “It may be that I do not need to do so. However, I am not ignoring that the possibility may yet arise.”
“Wow,” Gabriel said again, leaning back in his chair. He chuckled ruefully. “This is turning into an interesting meeting.”
“And I haven’t gotten to the best part yet, either,” Raziel said. He hesitated and Gabriel could see that Raziel was dreading saying what was to come next. Curious, Gabriel leaned forward, clasping his hands together on the cool surface of the table.
“What is it, Raz?” Gabriel asked.
“I met with Penemuel,” Raziel said. “Twice. And once with Kokabiel and Baraqiel.”
Gabriel was speechless. His astonishment was mirrored on every face in the room as all eyes locked on Raziel.
“Yes. Well, I was summoned by a little human girl to meet with her, her mum, and Penemuel. She wanted me to protect Penemuel from Semjaza. Apparently, Semjaza called the three Grigori to a meeting. I had to go upstairs and talk to God because this is a whole new situation and I had no idea what to do.”
“And what did God say?” Ur
iel growled out from between clenched teeth.
“God said that I could give Penemuel, Kokabiel, and Baraqiel protection and that they’d be forgiven their sins if they helped us. Something for something. So, I put this to Penemuel and said I wanted intel about Semjaza. He almost passed out in panic, but in the end, he agreed. He got a damn good deal, and he knew it.”
Uriel’s expression was one of undisguised rage. “I see.” His voice was curt, clipped. “Is there anything else?”
“Only what they told me about Semjaza,” Raziel said. He looked at Uriel with an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry, Uri.”
Uriel shook his head in disgust.
Gabriel was frowning. “How did they manage to hide from us?”
“Magic.” Raziel drew the word out to emphasize it. “All the Grigori are good at it, not just Semjaza, remember. They haven’t done anything since getting out of Hell. They’ve just lived. Penemuel works at the British Library. Kokabiel and Baraqiel work together as astronomers. They keep their heads down and don’t use their powers. It’s not hard to miss them with those conditions. There are loads of immortals around the world, what’s three more? If they used their powers on major events or groups of humans or monsters, then we’d have known. But as they didn’t, well, here we are. Also, Kokabiel and Baraqiel are romantically involved. Penemuel loves only his books and his gin. Semjaza doesn’t have any hold on those three at all.”
“How can you be certain?” Michael asked.
“Kokabiel was sporting some rather nasty injuries,” Raziel said. “It appears that he said something Semjaza did not like and was paid for his words with violence. He was bandaged up like an Egyptian mummy. The Grigori also told me that there are a dozen Nephilim still alive. They do not know whose children they are, but it certainly adds weight to mine and Sophiel’s belief that Ahijah is protecting them.”
“I see.” Michael sighed. “Very well. What is Semjaza planning?”
“Oh, nothing that we didn’t already know.” Raziel rolled his eyes in disgust. “He’s got Azazel fawning over him, I was told. That isn’t really a surprise, either. Azazel was always Semjaza’s favorite.
He’s got a place in Paris, and he’s hiding Semjaza there. I don’t think they’ll be there now, though. I think they moved as soon as Penemuel, Kokabiel, and Baraqiel left the meeting.
“Semjaza wants revenge,” Raziel went on. “He’s got quite a list. In no particular order, he wants revenge on Gabriel for locking him up in Aquila, on Michael for throwing the rest of the Grigori into Hell, on Uri for Noah’s Flood, on Gabriel again for killing most of the Nephilim, on me for keeping him out of Eden and setting nice little traps that let me know when he tries to get in, and last of all, but certainly not least, on Remiel for loving and being with Ishtahar.”
Uriel leapt to his feet. “That fucker is not getting his hands on you, Raziel.”
“I hadn’t planned to let him,” Raziel said calmly.
“Yeah, well, you’re not leaving Iona,” Uriel sputtered. “I won’t have it!”
“I’m not going to argue with you over this right now,” Raziel said, and his voice was cool. “But you and I will be discussing this later, in private, at some length. I feel that it is only fair to tell you that you will lose the impending fight, Uriel, because you know I am right and you know I am able to take care of myself. But I also know that you will be unable to accept that, and so when we fight, keep that firmly in mind.”
Uriel gaped at Raziel in astonishment, then glared at him. “This isn’t over, Raziel.”
“I never thought that it would be.” Raziel turned back to the rest of the Brotherhood and the other four angels. “I believe that covers everything.”
“What do the Grigori out of Hell look like now?” Metatron suddenly asked.
“What? Oh yes, right.” Raziel tapped on the keys of his laptop and a photograph appeared on the screen behind him. “Penemuel,” he identified the balding, portly man wearing a tweed jacket and dark gray slacks. “Kokabiel and Baraqiel.” The two Grigori were seated side by side, Kokabiel without a shirt but with his chest wrapped in bandages, his dark hair mussed, and his cheeks flushed pink, Baraqiel, looking very worried, in a simple blue suit.
“Huh.” Remiel peered at the images. “They look completely unremarkable.”
“I believe that was the point.” Raziel shrugged. “In any event, they will continue to tell us what Semjaza is up to and where he is, and we can plan accordingly.”
“Is that all?” Michael asked. He sounded weary and Gabriel laid a hand on his back.
“For now, yes.” Raziel sat back. “What are we going to do?”
“I think we should start acting instead of reacting,” Raphael said suddenly. He leaned forward, his dark hands resting on the table. “As Israfel reminded me before going to help the monks with their broken church organ, if we do nothing but react to things, we are not doing much to keep humanity safe.”
“So what do you suggest we do?” Uriel demanded.
Raphael hummed. “I think we need to start making some noise. We need to get Semjaza out in the open somewhere so we can catch him and put him back into Aquila.”
Michael frowned. “He wants revenge and he wants Eden. What do you propose we do, journey to Eden and lounge upon the walls as if we had not a care in the world?”
“Well, no.” Raphael laughed. “I don’t think you’d know how to lounge like that anyway, Michael.”
Gabriel was shaking his head. “I’ve got a better idea. Semjaza wants me and Remi probably the most out of all of us, yeah?”
“Yes,” agreed Raziel.
“Then Remi and me should go out and be seen somewhere, alone, without an army or backup. Semjaza’ll think he can take us, and then we’ll turn the tables on him.”
Michael frowned. “I do not like this.”
“Better than wafting the Nephilim under his nose like a carrot to a donkey,” Gabriel said. “I’d rather play bait—I can defend myself, for one thing.”
There was a growl of disgust from Uriel at that.
“Look,” Gabriel began, glaring around the table, “if anyone’s going to know what killing Nephilim is like, it’s going to be me. I murdered them all—on orders, aye—but I still did it. Men, women, children, infants. Every single damn one of ’em ended up killed by me. Ahijah and Hiwa escaped my sword ’cause of two things—one, Ishtahar begged me not to kill them, and two, God told me not to. The rest? Their blood is on my hands.
“And you know, I’m pretty okay about that. I don’t have lingering guilt. Orders are orders, and sure, that’s something that’s said to excuse bad behavior by soldiers since time began. But these few, these dozen? If we ain’t known about ’em until now, what harm are they causing? What laws are they breaking? Let
’em be.”
Silence met Gabriel’s words, and he stood up. “I’m going for a walk,” he said. “You can all debate the life or death of these Nephilim if you want, but I ain’t going to be the one to draw a blade against them unless they break laws or draw a blade against me and mine.”
Michael stood. “I will come with you, if I may.” He looked around the assembled. “Let us adjourn for a time and meet later to discuss this again.”
“Aye, you may.” Gabriel flashed Michael a small smile. Together, they left the room.
OUTSIDE the pub, Gabriel let out an explosive breath and ran both his hands through his hair. It was cold and night was descending fast, but Gabriel didn’t want to go indoors just yet.
“Da bao?” Michael’s voice was a timid interruption to Gabriel’s thoughts.
Gabriel turned and faced his lover, smiling. He held out a hand to Michael. “Come on, let’s go for a walk on the beach.”
Michael took Gabriel’s hand, twining their fingers and smiled shyly. “I would enjoy that.”
“Awesome.” Gabriel started down the path toward the seashore. “So, that were a lot of interesting intel, hey?”
“As you say.�
�� Michael shook his head as Gabriel watched him out the corner of his eye. “In truth, I was astonished to hear of the Grigori free from Hell. I cannot fault their reason for leaving, however. Hell is not a pleasant place.”
Gabriel laughed. “Understatement, baby. And as Raz said, if they’d been interfering in things, using their power, we’d know about it, and they wouldn’t still be out. The fact they’ve been lying low tells me they really do intend to do the right thing—have been doing the right thing—and are just watching humanity and living and not harming anyone. As they were supposed to do back in Eden.”
“Eden,” Michael sighed. “It always comes back to that city. Some days, in truth, I wish it never existed.”
“If it weren’t Eden, it’d be Ephesus. Or Pergamon. Or any city of antiquity.” Gabriel tugged Michael closer, let go of his hand, and slid his arm around Michael’s shoulders. “The location ain’t really the issue. What happened there is.”
“As you say.” Michael leaned into Gabriel as they walked down to the sand. The sound of the surf crashing against the beach was loud and calming, and Gabriel breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of it.
“It is a lovely evening, is it not?” Michael said.
“Aye.” Gabriel smiled. “I’m not in a hurry to go inside, though.”
“Nor am I.” Michael stopped walking.
“Solnyshko?” Gabriel stopped as well, turning to look at him with a raised eyebrow.
“This.” Michael stepped close and leaned in. Then he kissed Gabriel, reaching up to cup his cheek with one hand.
Gabriel slid his arms around Michael’s waist, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss. The wind tugged playfully at his hair and ruffled his wings, and Gabriel made a low noise of contentment into Michael’s mouth.
Michael melted into the kiss, and Gabriel felt his heart give a familiar lurch, the little flip-flop of love and devotion he had for Michael.
“I love you, Mishka, my Mishka.” “I love you as well, Gabriel.” me.”
“Then I’m the luckiest being alive, “No. I am.”
Gabriel ended the kiss and rested his forehead against Michael’s, reaching up with one hand to stroke Michael’s hair. Michael smiled at him and Gabriel smiled back.
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