“That was wonderful,” Michael said as Gabriel slowly pulled out of him. “Thank you.”
“Don’t need to thank me, I enjoyed it too.” Gabriel set Michael down on his feet. “We’re all dirty now.”
Michael smiled a little shyly. “Then perhaps we should bathe.”
“Aye, we should. Bath’s big enough for both of us.”
Michael’s smile grew. “I would like that.”
Gabriel took Michael’s hand. “Then let’s go do that.”
In the bath, sitting facing each other and relaxing in the warm water, Gabriel broached a subject that he wasn’t entirely sure he should bring up.
He knew he could let it hang between them, a silent elephant that only grew with the lack of discussion, becoming so large that it would be almost tangible, but that wasn’t in Gabriel’s nature. So he took a deep breath and plunged directly into it.
“We know a bit more about this project that was being run in the mountain at Yaak,” he began. “I’m waiting on Minnie and Max for more intel, but so far, we’ve got a bit of background.”
Michael raised an eyebrow, which Gabriel took as a good sign. At least he wasn’t shouting. “And what is the background that you have so far?”
“Transom Corp has gone bankrupt—the why is still being investigated. But that thing, The Betterment Project, that’s a corker. The plan was, apparently, to create a new breed of monster, a hybrid of human, animal, demon, and probably angel, although I’m guessing on the last one.
There were enough spells to keep us out, so who knows. Anyway, the monsters that were created were supposed to guard all the gates between the other planes of existence and Earth. Now, I’ve got no damn idea if anything could find all those gates, but that didn’t seem to be an issue. The reason they wanted to guard the gates and portals and all was to keep demons and angels and residents of Purgatory from coming to Earth at all.”
Michael frowned, his brows furrowing. “They wished to keep us out for good?”
“I reckon so, aye.”
“But why?”
“That’s the big question. I got theories, based on the little we know, but they’re still pretty sketchy. Transom Corp seemed to hate us. I don’t know why. Maybe we disrupted some of their businesses, angels and demons both. I don’t know.”
Michael’s frown wasn’t going anywhere. “I am aware that we are not universally loved,” he said slowly, “but I thought that only a few Fallen Ones or older demons hated us outright.”
“Or older angels hating demons?”
“Yes. I know that not all of angelkind is pleased with the order that we are at truce with Hell, and would like to see that truce nulled. Yet, I think it is the best hope for the future. We have all seen far too much war.
I will never, it is true, be at ease with Lucifer, but I am not as reluctant to work with his Guild of Glass Knives. Ondrass and Adramelek can be infuriating, but one cannot deny that the two of them are extremely efficient at what they do. And Lix Tetrax and Melcherisa have been extremely helpful to us all. Markus has been Markus—as personal assistant to Ondrass, he works admirably, as aide to the rest of the Guild, he is more than serviceable. Yet I do not think there are other Archdemons I would deal with in such a fashion.”
“Familiarity makes ’em easier to work with?” Gabriel suggested.
“As you say.” Michael sighed. “I dislike that Lilith is out and about, although she spends most of her time in Purgatory or Hell.”
“You just don’t like Lilith,” Gabriel said.
“Do you?”
“Not particularly. I love Agrat to bits, though.”
Michael smiled at that. “Agrat is a delight. Lilith is the exact opposite. Oh, I do not disagree with her anger at how she was treated in the early days, when she was ejected from Eden and punished for asking questions of Adam and God, but she has continued to behave like a spoiled princess ever since. Lucifer only encourages it.”
“Aye, well, she’s his problem now. If he likes her, then so be it.”
Gabriel rested an arm on the side of the bath. “I have to wonder what the hell is going on with this company, though. It’s so damn weird that they went bankrupt so soon after what our kids found out.”
“Language. And it is indeed suspicious.”
Right on cue, Gabriel’s cell phone rang. He groaned and rolled his eyes, and pulled it to him with his power.
“Aye?”
“Am I interrupting you, Gabe?” It was Max.
“Not really. What’s up?”
“We’ve got some info for you. You should come visit.”
“Okay. I’ll bring Michael.”
“I was going to suggest you do that. I think you both need to hear this.”
Gabriel frowned. “This doesn’t sound good.”
“That’d be because it’s not. Don’t dawdle.” Max hung up.
Gabriel lowered his phone and gave Michael a rueful grin. “And back to work we go.”
Michael started to get out of the bath. “Where are we going?”
“Max and Minnie’s.”
“Ah. Well, we will have to postpone the rest of our intimate time.”
Gabriel got out of the tub and grabbed a towel. “Oh, you bet we’re doing that. I ain’t forgetting we’ve got round two to enjoy.”
Michael smiled, even as he shook his head. “You are insatiable.”
“Aye, for you.”
Michael blushed as he grabbed a towel. “As you say.”
Quickly drying himself off, Gabriel dropped the towel carelessly on the floor and padded naked into the bedroom. He dressed in faded blue jeans and a pale gray T-shirt, then pulled on socks and his black Doc Marten boots. He was tucking his phone into his pocket when Michael joined him, dressed in a simple suit made of cream silk and wool.
“You look nice,” Gabriel said.
“Thank you.” Michael leaned over and kissed Gabriel’s cheek.
“Shall we go?”
“Aye.” Gabriel took Michael’s hand and moved them, teleporting to the front gate of Minnie and Max’s home. The gate was open and there was a small pony gazing at them from just inside.
“When did they get a pony?” Michael asked as they walked through the gate.
Gabriel closed it behind them. “Apparently, it wandered in and adopted them about six months ago. It’s called Avon.”
“I see.” Michael stopped to give the pony a pat, and Gabriel chuckled as the animal nuzzled Michael’s pockets.
“Are you carrying an apple?”
“Perhaps.” Michael smiled faintly and pulled an apple from his jacket pocket, holding it out to the pony, who took it with a soft whuff that was half whicker, half happy sigh. It ate the apple loudly, crunching into it, and Michael, still smiling, walked down the path toward the door.
Gabriel followed him, amused at the pony standing in the middle of the front garden. That wasn’t really something you saw every day, after all. He joined Michael at the door and waited as his lover knocked.
Several moments later, Minnie answered the door. She held it open for them and gestured for them both to come in.
“You look a little tired,” Gabriel said after the greetings were over.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Tired, yeah, but fine. Come through to Max’s techie room.”
“I take it there is information of a sensitive nature?” Michael asked as Minnie led them through the house.
“Yes and no. Some of it isn’t so much sensitive as it is plain weird,” she said, leading them to a half-open door. She pushed it fully open and led them into the room beyond, saying, “They’re here, babe.”
“Oh good.” Max stood up and moved to shake their hands. “I’m glad to see you. I’ve found out what happened to Transom Corp.”
“And I found out more specifics about what the plan of The Betterment Project was,” Minnie said.
“You two are bloody geniuses, you know that right?” Gabriel said.
/> Minnie demurred, but Max shrugged. “You get what you pay for.
And you paid for the best, so that’s what you get.”
“Did we pay you?” Michael asked. “I hope we did not shortchange you.”
Max blinked, and Minnie looked amused. “I’m joking, Mike,” Max said after a moment.
“It’s a figure of speech, that’s all,” Minnie said. “So come and take a look at what Max found.”
Gabriel was pleased with how she smoothed over Michael’s confusion. He knew his lover would be extremely embarrassed about having misunderstood, but Minnie was leading him toward the largest computer monitor, her arm through his, and Michael seemed not to have progressed from confusion to embarrassment.
“Transom Corp is a multinational,” Max began, sitting down again.
“It has offices in all the major cities: London, New York, Los Angeles, Sydney, Moscow, Tokyo, Beijing. It declared bankruptcy in the US because it lost a lot on the stock market, which is kind of weird for a multinational, until I found what they were trading in.”
“Which is?”
“Futures.”
“What’s a future?” Gabriel asked.
“Futures trading involves speculating on the price of a commodity, interest rate, stock indices, and other financial securities increasing or decreasing in the future. Future trading has been going on for centuries, it’s not really a new thing. But it’s a risky thing, as world markets can fluctuate quite a bit. You can make a fortune with futures or lose everything, and that’s what happened to Transom Corp.”
“What were they speculating in, then?” Michael asked. He appeared to have understood this explanation far better than Gabriel, but then, anything related to numbers and mathematics was not Gabriel’s forte.
“They were investing in medical speculations. Most particularly, immunization against diseases that mutated with each carrier.”
“I have no idea what that means,” Gabriel admitted.
“Okay. Say you get the flu. You feel lousy, you take your meds, but you pass the flu on to Michael. Only, he doesn’t have the same strain of flu you did, it’s changed its markers in the process of being transmitted between the two of you. Vaccines for those kinds of situations is what Transom Corp was investing in.”
Gabriel looked at Michael. “This has to do with their hybrid genetics and mashing together creatures for their plan to guard the gates and keep us all out of Earth.”
“I fear you are right,” Michael said.
“They lost billions, guys,” Max said. “This wasn’t a small speculation. This was everything that Transom had, and they lost it all.”
“How?” Gabriel said.
“The vaccine proved to be unstable and the research discovered that it didn’t treat the mutant strain of a virus so much as just make the virus mutate slower. When that came out in medical journals, word hit the stock market, and boom. Crash bang, money’s all gone.”
“So they’re really broke? They can’t do any more damage?” Gabriel asked. “Oh no, they can do a lot of damage.” Max leaned back in his chair.
“Once Transom Corp went bankrupt, its board went into emergency meetings and got people to invest in a new product. I can’t find what it is, but they’re doing it in-house. Their systems are so damn good, I can’t crack them, and if I can’t, no one can.” The last was said with no trace of false modesty whatsoever.
“That’s when I decided to try magic,” Minnie said. “Max’s skills are pretty bloody brilliant, but they seemed to have covered all the bases when it came to computing. So, what about a spirit or two? I called up a few and told them what was going on, asked if they’d be able to help, and—”
“A moment, please,” Michael interrupted. “You asked? You did not compel?”
Minnie looked surprised. “Why would I order a spirit around? It’d be rude. You don’t boss around spirits. You don’t boss around anyone. They live on the various planes of existence too. They have the right to help as they see fit; I’m not going to order them.”
“I see.” Michael looked chastised. “You are correct. Forgive me. I did not mean disrespect to you or to them.”
“Quite all right,” Minnie said with a smile. “So, off they went and they got in where Max couldn’t.”
“What did they find?” Gabriel asked.
“Ah, now, that’s an interesting question. Transom Corp still exists, only under a new name. Now they’re TCC.”
“That ain’t a good way to hide who they were previously,” Gabriel said. “TCC? Transom Corp Corp. Right?”
“Right.” Minnie nodded. “They’re not trading in futures now, though. Now, they’re working with other pharmaceuticals to produce the vaccines they want. And they’re working on creating energy locks that can force all paths between planes of existence to close. Every single one. So no one could move out of their plane of creation, where they were made or born. Or, in the case of Hell, where they were sentenced.”
Michael pinched the bridge of his nose. “But that is not possible.”
“It might be possible now,” Minnie said.
“How?” Gabriel asked.
“They’ve got some witches on board with this stupid plan. And some scientists, techie geeks like Max, and a few shifters too.”
“Shit,” Gabriel said.
“Language,” Michael sighed. “Can you give us a report of this in writing, please? It would be of great use when we meet with our Brotherhood.”
“Already ahead of you, Mike.” Max picked up a manila folder and held it out. “Our findings are in that. There’s several copies. We’ll keep digging around and see what else we can find.”
“Thanks, guys,” Gabriel said. “We really appreciate this.”
“No worries,” Minnie said. “We like a challenge, and this is a good one. Okay, not good for civilization anywhere, but good for our brains.”
Gabriel grinned. “I knew what you meant.” He looked quickly at Michael. “I hate to grab reports and run, but I think we’d better.”
“We understand,” Max said.
“Next time, bring Samael and we’ll have a barbeque,” Minnie said.
Gabriel nodded. “That sounds great. Will do.”
Michael bowed low to the pair of them. “Thank you both,” he said.
“Once again, you have come to our aid and we are in your debt.”
“Then you’ll have to come to the barbeque too,” Minnie said.
Michael straightened and smiled. “I would be honored.”
“Let’s go,” Gabriel said. “I think we’ve got a long meeting ahead of us.”
“As you say,” Michael said.
BAXTER SAT down and stretched out his legs. He was quickly getting used to the prosthetic, and with Raphael’s help—and quite probably a bit of magic—he had rapidly adjusted to walking and running with his new leg. As he’d expected, he sometimes felt the phantom limb when he removed the prosthetic, but for the most part, he had adapted quickly and easily. He knew he was very lucky, and he was grateful. The wolf had taken longer to adjust to the new leg, but Baxter had expected that too.
He had been worried, though, that Angelique would want to retire him to a desk job or to training newcomers to the Venatores, anything to get him out of the field and out of the pack. When he broached the subject with her, she had looked at him as if he’d uttered blasphemy and then punched him solidly in the arm. “You idiot,” she’d said. “Don’t think like that. You’re still part of my pack and you’re still a kappa. Deal with it.”
So he had. That reassurance, gruff as it was, had been all he’d needed to focus on the exercises and treatments Raphael gave him, and he knew the Archangel was adding his own power to Baxter’s healing each time they worked together. Baxter had no doubt that was in large part because he was a Venatores, a member of Michael’s elite forces of shifters. He liked Raphael and enjoyed working with him, as Raphael cheerfully answered nearly every question Baxter had. Baxter had learned just as muc
h about the history of Archangels as he had about muscle tension and relaxation, strengthening joints, and care of a prosthesis.
The only real niggle he had was Liam. Baxter wondered if maybe Liam was staying with him out of loyalty and pity. After al , Liam was gorgeous: he was tal ; his light brown hair, streaked with blond, almost reached his shoulders; and his hazel-green eyes were a color Baxter had never seen before. He was funny, smart, and compassionate, and he was easygoing and slow to anger. His body was incredible, al chiseled muscle and lean limbs, not an ounce of fat on him, a product of working out and taking care of himself. The tattoo on his right upper arm was an intricate swirl of design and color that Baxter couldn’t decipher; it seemed a hodge-podge of Celtic, Incan, and folk art, and all Liam said about it was that it related to the magic he learned as a boy. He spoke Latin, Greek, and Spanish, read books by authors whose names were longer than the titles, and was extremely gifted in Necromancy. In Baxter’s eyes, probably the only flaws Liam had were his stubborn refusal to get on a surfboard and his doting adoration of his car.
Baxter wanted to be sure that Liam wasn’t staying with him for reasons of pity. That was the one thing he couldn’t handle. If Liam didn’t love him anymore… wel , okay, that happened, but sticking around because he felt sorry for him because Baxter had lost a leg, that was definitely not okay. While waiting for Liam to return from his run with his brother, Baxter stretched out on his comfortable sofa, a $50 charity shop find, and thought about what to do with himself. It had taken him a few days to get used to his home now being a ground-floor apartment. The layout was exactly the same as his second-floor one had been, but Baxter had caught himself several times heading toward the stairs and felt like an idiot when he noticed what he was doing. Autopilot, he cal ed it, and when he had told Raphael, Raphael had assured him that happened to everyone and he’d get used to the change soon enough.
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