I’d considered bringing him along, but I hadn’t wanted him there in case the secret about Legion’s boss wanting to marry me came to light. I didn’t want anyone knowing about that, even though I was never going to let it happen. The news—whether true or not—would spread like wildfire and would be just as hard to put out. Also, Archangel Michael wasn’t a fan of humans, so I hadn’t wanted to risk adding fuel to the flames. Ryuu could be a tad overprotective, and Michael could be a tad overaggressive.
I’d tell Ryuu the full story once I had it all sorted out—which was seeming less likely without Sanguina.
I shook off the pessimistic thought and reviewed my priorities.
I wanted answers on the potential ramifications of marrying a demon—not that I had any intention of doing so, but I needed to know the worst-case scenario. Because if I couldn’t find a way out of this, Legion had told me my city would be immolated.
I was entirely certain that marrying this mysterious demon would instead force Heaven to immolate my city, so I needed to find a middle ground. I needed to play Heaven and Hell against each other somehow.
And after seeing my mother’s secret fire lotus—
I grimaced and blushed at the same time, horrified by my internal phrasing—it was getting worse. “Well, that mental image of my mother naked will forever be seared into my mind.”
Sanguina stared at me dubiously, still not looking convinced at my chances. I waved off her concern. After learning about the possibility of my mother setting me up to save the last two Divines, I needed to learn more about the Spear of Destiny. The first time I had met Michael, he had been highly interested in the Spear. I’d ultimately convinced him I was worthy of caring for the blade.
But that had been a while ago. Now, I was Dracula.
One thing I did know was that Legion, and however many other demons, had snuck into Kansas City shortly after I’d given up Excalibur, thus removing my mother’s protection. Michael should be well aware of demonic presence in my city, but no one seemed to be talking about it. The Shepherds hadn’t been roaming the streets with Holy Water and Crucifixes, and I’d heard nothing about nephilim activity.
The only hint at demons—other than me personally running into Legion—was Ryuu’s wounded men, which he hadn’t explained to me. Another reason I had opted not to bring him along this morning. He wanted to keep secrets; I could keep secrets too.
So, with my priorities aligned, I turned to Sanguina. “Wish me luck.”
She didn’t. It looked like she’d actually fallen asleep.
I glared at her for good measure, and then I made a Gateway to a secluded park I’d found years ago, since I didn’t want to risk drawing attention. It had plenty of trees, little to no foot traffic, and plenty of meandering running trails. It was deserted at this…ungodly hour, and I saw an abandoned playground that would better suit my aesthetic and artistic needs. I approached the merry-go-round, deciding to use the flat wood as my canvas. I took a calming breath and cut my palm with a throwing knife. Then I wiped my finger in my blood and drew the strange rune Sanguina had showed me.
It was only after I finished that I realized I hadn’t called up the mental photo to guide me. I shivered at the prospect of my natural talent for using the Omegabet rising to the surface, unbidden. Just to be safe, I checked my work against Sanguina’s mental projection. Perfect. I let out another mild shudder and rose to my feet, glancing at the sky. It would be sunrise soon.
I retreated about ten feet and sat down on one of the swings. I called up the Spear of Destiny and rested it across my lap. Out of habit, I shuffled my feet back and began swinging, smiling at the small joy. Then I cleared my throat. “Archangel Michael!” My shout echoed through the clearing, scaring a flock of birds from the nearby trees.
It wouldn’t be long now—
A meteorite slammed into my rune on the merry-go-round at a forty-five-degree angle, and physics immediately bitch-slapped Heaven’s Mightiest Halo.
The merry-go-round spun as fast as a particle accelerator, sending Michael straight into a complex web of crisscrossing metal bars known as a jungle gym. The metal snapped and shrieked as it wrapped around him in a somewhat spherical cage, tearing free from the ground supports, and began to roll.
It finally slammed into a wooden watch tower, obliterating the supporting pillars in an explosion of wood fragments that sent the tower crashing to the ground. I continued swinging on autopilot, staring at the devastation in disbelief. And then…I couldn’t help it.
I fell into one of those fits of giggles that were impossible to stop.
Michael roared and raged, tearing through the metal with a ridiculously large crystal sword. He rose to his feet, panting as he surveyed his surroundings for the next threat. He drop-kicked one of those plastic dragons on vertical springs, and it immediately bounced back, kneecapping him so hard that he fell, and head butted the plastic dragon into a bajillion pieces. He leapt back to his feet again, panting and looking mildly panicked at this devil-cursed arena of despair.
I was actually crying at this point, struggling to catch my breath. Archangel Michael latched onto the sound, looking up to see the Horseman of Despair giggling uncontrollably. He narrowed his eyes murderously and began storming my way with his sword bared.
13
I held up a hand, forestalling him as I tried to blink through my tears. “Wait,” I wheezed, sucking down air between outbursts. “Please. I can’t breathe—”
“Stop. Laughing.”
I nodded and then held my breath as I looked upwards at the sky so that my peripheral view of the destroyed playground and humiliated archangel didn’t send me into relapse-giggles. I still shook for a few moments, but I finally managed to regain my composure.
He clenched his jaw, his white eyes glowing with fire. “You did that on purpose,” he snarled.
I shook my head adamantly. “No. I swear it on my power,” I promised him, wiping at my eyes.
He frowned, looking uncertain. Then he glanced back at the chaos. “You mean…all that,” he said, gesturing with his sword, “was by chance?”
I breathed in through my nose, biting back another tirade of giggles, and nodded. “Believe it or not, yes.”
He grunted, turning to look at his original landing zone. The merry-go-round was still spinning at warp speed, and it was squeaking wildly. I was surprised it hadn’t burrowed into the bowels of the earth or taken off into the sky. Michael calmly walked up to it, narrowing his eyes, and then he shot his hand into the spiral of death.
Metal warped and wood cracked, and unseen mechanisms snapped and popped as he stopped it cold, gripping one of the metal handrails. Of course, it had bent and snapped free into the adjacent handrail, so he was technically holding two of them. The point was, he’d stopped it without even remotely losing his balance or shifting his feet. My humor evaporated, as I was suddenly reminded of just how powerful archangels were. Michael knelt down to inspect the rune I had drawn.
Then he glanced over his shoulder sharply, his face ashen. “Where did you learn this?” he rasped.
I shrugged coyly. “I like to read.”
“Do you know what this is?” he hissed, glancing left and right as if fearing someone might overhear.
I nodded. “The Omegabet. There’s plenty more where that came from,” I said, tapping my temple.
He locked gazes with me as he stabbed his sword through the rune and twisted, obliterating the symbol. Then he approached me again, warily this time. Very warily.
“Why did you summon me?” he asked, guardedly.
He wore ornate crystal and diamond armor that looked utterly bulky, heavy, and impractical. Except I knew that it was entirely functional and weighed practically nothing to him. I heard a faint crackling sound and noticed the steadily extending and retracting spikes rising up and down from his armor, as if restless.
Because his armor was kind of alive, in a strange way. Much like my angel wings, the armor wasn’t static. It w
as ever shifting, made from living energy that could not be restrained. I’d seen Michael’s armor grow spines as long and sharp as swords.
Speaking of swords, he still gripped his massive crystal blade. I cast it a thoughtful look, and he fired back with a mirrored look at my Spear. I sighed, letting it wink out of existence. He sheathed his blade, and the two of us stared at each other for a few moments, gathering our thoughts.
He wore his perfectly merciless and beautiful mask to cover up the scarred version of his face. I was the only human he had ever shown that true face to, and it had made him extremely uncomfortable to tell me that all angels hid their scars, while demons flaunted theirs by showing off their monstrous forms—sporting scales, tails, fangs, and anything else they could dream up. I wasn’t entirely sure Michael’s claim was true because Samael didn’t appear to have any scars. Then again, he could be wearing a mask of sorts since he preferred his human form. Same with Lilith. She was downright gorgeous with nary a wrinkle. But their beauty seemed natural, whereas Michael’s Mask made him look sculpted and untouchable.
Michael radiated power and authority. He was tall, broad of shoulder, and sported medium-length blonde hair. I noticed he was wearing a chain necklace with two white feathers tucked below his armor. I hadn’t noticed that during our last meeting.
“Do you want me to put my Mask on as well?” I asked, gently. He’d already been humiliated, so I decided to dial back the abrasiveness I’d originally intended to show him.
He took a measured breath, and then his hand flared with white fire. He touched the flame to his face and the Mask burned up like magician’s flash paper. “Better?” he growled.
I opened my mouth to respond when I felt a surge of power flare at my hip, and then wink out of existence almost as fast as I’d noticed it. The only thing in my pocket was the pair of rings from my mother’s box. The metal card was in a different pocket. I realized I was still staring at him with my mouth open, so I cleared my throat. “Yes. Thank you,” I stammered. “I didn’t think you would actually do it,” I said, hoping to explain my strange reaction.
He nodded calmly, not seeming to have noticed the flash of power. I kept my features composed, but my mind was still racing. What the hell had happened to the rings, and why? Obviously, they had reacted to Michael taking off his mask, but I had no idea about the why. What did Michael have to do with the Divines? And if he was a key to saving them, why had my mother warded me from Heaven? Every time I learned something new, I learned something that contradicted what I thought I had already learned.
I studied him thoughtfully.
His real face was a scarred, imperfect reflection of the mask—still beautiful, but in a rugged, natural, realistic manner. It was what he truly looked like after the war of the angels so long ago.
Michael was a big freaking deal. He was the Supreme Commander of the Heavenly Hosts, known as the sword in God’s right hand, and often referred to as the Angel of Death. I’d expected a lot more rage from him, but I was blessedly relieved to see that his impromptu cannonball arrival had served to get a lot of anger out of his system. It could have done exactly the opposite. Still, I could see that he was deeply troubled by something. He was wary and suspicious of me, and it had nothing to do with the playground.
I debated how to answer his question because he wasn’t acting as I had anticipated. I’d expected either outright anger and judgment, or his version of a greeting between old friends. Except we were in the middle of those two extremes and speaking with Michael was typically an exercise in futility. Not all angels were as difficult to communicate with, because they were lower ranked and spent more time around humans. Like Eae, the demon thwarter. But Michael was an archangel, not a run-of-the-mill angel.
He was also a soldier. He knew war. Period. People were things you killed. You didn’t talk to them. Before me, it had been thousands of years since he’d interacted with a human, and it had shown.
Emotions were difficult for him to comprehend, let alone express, because he was entirely ignorant of mankind. He saw us as cardboard cutouts and had never heard of pop culture of any kind. His thoughts were occupied by much bigger things that mankind could not comprehend. So, he would say something to me that I wouldn’t understand, and then I would answer with a sarcastic comment that he didn’t understand. A translator would be ideal, but that wasn’t in the cards, so I would just have to make do.
“Why did you summon me?” he repeated, his patience obviously dwindling.
I needed to bring up demons without bringing up Legion. And I knew how he would react—angrily. Which would suit my purposes, if handled properly. “Samael proposed to Lilith, and I wanted to invite you to their wedding. They haven’t picked the date yet, but I thought you should hear it from me.” I smiled. “They are very excited.”
He regarded me calmly. “I have been studying humans since we last met, Callie Penrose. I am no longer as ignorant in your manipulative ways…” he growled, leaning forward aggressively, “and no longer as tolerant.”
Damn it, the fuzz was onto me. “What does that have to do with anything?” I deflected.
“I have bigger things to worry about. Tell me why I would care about Samael and Lilith,” he growled.
I stared back at him, processing this new development. He didn’t look like he was proud or pleased with his newfound knowledge. In fact, he looked…disgusted by it. His once composed and almost emotionless demeanor now seemed about a hair-trigger away from violent eruption.
Which did not bode well for my plans. Anger at the topic of their wedding was fine—disgust at my existence was…troubling. My original plan to nudge him over the edge was suddenly slapped with an apocalyptic warning label. Because whatever he was now, he didn’t see me as a person.
He saw me as vermin.
I cleared my throat. “I wanted to ask what kind of ramifications their decision might have. I’ve seen them together. They have fought to find each other for over one hundred years and have finally succeeded. Their love is genuine. But…they are demons, and I don’t know all the details of the…family history. Is their decision going to have consequences?”
He stared at me, looking incredulous. “Consequences?”
I nodded uncertainly, unable to read into his reaction. “Yes. I have never heard of a demon getting married, and that seemed significant. They do call it holy matrimony,” I explained, trying to keep my questions vague enough that they could apply to my own situation, giving me a double answer. Because I truly was concerned about Samael’s decision, in addition to my own. Except their marriage was consensual.
He continued to stare at me. Then he glanced left and right as if searching for a witness. “This is some kind of sick joke, isn’t it?” he asked, rhetorically. I tried not to focus on the fact that my mother had wanted to protect me from Heaven just as much as Hell, but it was really difficult with the almost wild look in Michael’s eyes. He was acting more human than ever before—entirely different from our first encounter.
He’d practically been an alien from outer space back then. Was this a good or bad development?
“Okay,” he finally said. “Let’s play out this game, Callie Penrose,” he said in a low growl. “Gabriel let us know about their unholy matrimony,” he said, gauging my reaction just as much as I was studying his.
I didn’t bother hiding my perplexed look. “Gabriel?” I asked. It made sense, in a way.
Michael was the Archangel of Death and War.
Gabriel was the Archangel of Revelation. I’d once read something about him being set over all the powers, which had sounded kind of boss-like to me.
But how the hell had Gabriel heard about Samael and Lilith? Did I have a leak at Castle Dracula or had Samael been blabbing about it where the wrong person could hear and report to the archangels. I remembered seeing Lilith disheveled and out of sorts last night, and Samael trying to placate her or make her feel better. One—or both—of them had done something stupid, and Gabrie
l had heard about it.
Michael nodded, still studying me closely like this was some sort of interrogation. “Gabriel has taken charge of the current…situation until my particular skillset is needed.”
I narrowed my eyes dangerously, his comment snapping me out of my racing thoughts. I slid off the swing and squared my shoulders. “I know very well who you are, Angel of Death,” I said, “and if you even think about using your particular skillset on my godparents, I will—”
He waved a hand, cutting me off. But it wasn’t the gesture that had made me comply. It was the puzzled look on his face. “I’m not talking about the wedding,” he said, very slowly.
I blinked, my pulse suddenly ratcheting upwards.
“You truly do not know…” he mused, scratching at his chin. His shoulders sagged, as if he no longer saw me as an immediate danger.
Which was incredibly stupid of him, really. “Michael, I’m about to do something you are really not going to like if you don’t tell me what is going on.”
“The Seven Sins have escaped Hell. I thought you knew,” he said, just as casually as I had mentioned Samael proposing to Lilith.
14
My knees buckled and my ass plopped back into the seat of the swing. I managed to grab the chains for support, but that was the extent of my motor functions.
Because all my blood was rushing to my heart, and I thought it might actually explode. “When?” I whispered, not even caring that my voice was trembling, and my hand was shaking hard enough to rattle the chain. Because I feared that Legion had already given me the answer—the moment I’d removed my mother’s protection.
Legion…represented one of the Seven Sins. He wasn’t just a powerful demon who thought they could marry me. One of the Seven had set his sights on me. I recalled Legion’s parting comment about me picking six members for my bridal party, and it suddenly made sickening sense. Six brothers plus one groom equaled the Seven Sins.
Anghellic: Feathers and Fire Book 8 Page 8