Soul Betrayer

by Allyson Lindt

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Michael was right. This place was devouring her and so many other agents. She wasn’t helping from her position, because she resented everything about it. “I’m resigning, effective immediately.”

  “You can’t do that.” Orange flickered in his eyes—a flash of anger wrapped in power he normally hid. She suspected it was the first genuine emotion he’d shown since the meeting started

  “What was it you told me this morning? I absolutely can.”

  “You’re an executive officer for a global corporation. You can’t simply walk off the job because you don’t like some of the company politics. Where the hell is your professionalism? What are we supposed to tell the press?”

  She should feel disbelief at his priorities, but she’d lost more faith in him than she realized. “Is that what you care about? That’s really the first thing that comes to mind, to talk me out of this? The company’s image?” She couldn’t keep the disgust from her voice. “When did the opinion of anyone become more important to you than doing what we were made for? You left heaven to make sure people got the attention you felt they deserved, and now you’re going to screw over a building of agents and an entire civilization because of a dispute with Gabriel?” That wasn’t what she meant to say. It was a bit melodramatic. The words bounced in her head, insisting she figure out where they came from.

  “And how does your quitting make anything better?”

  “I don’t know. But if I’m not affecting change from the inside, I’m helping the two of you play your games.”

  “Don’t do this. It’s not what you think, and you can make a change.”

  She wanted to believe the apology in his tone. She was desperate to cling to the promise that this was anything but a giant clusterfuck. She couldn’t. “You know how to reach me outside of the office. Goodbye.”

  Before he could say anything else, she phased from the room.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “I need your help. Please.” Ronnie forced herself to sound contrite and braced herself for the backlash.

  Raphael twisted in his desk chair, to look behind him and then around his office, before turning back to her. “I’m sorry. You’re talking to me?”

  Wonderful. He had a sense of humor after all. Now was the perfect time to find that out. Not. “Yes. I need help with something, and I don’t trust anyone else here.” She didn’t care for Raphael. Would be happy if they never spoke again after today. But like Tia, he loved his job. He believed the company mission statement and was at U-View to make a difference.

  “Okay. I’m going to pretend I’m whoever you think I am and play along.” The corners of his mouth twitched. He thought he was being clever.

  That was fine with her. “Fantastic. I need you to film something for me, and then make sure it’s distributed to all the media outlets. Get it on the U-View front page. Make sure the world sees it.”

  “Ah. So this is one of those instances of you throwing your weight around for some whimsy that’s caught your mood today.” His amusement vanished.

  She didn’t have the strength for another argument. Or discussion. Or whatever would come out of engaging him in conversation. “No. I promise you on everything you hold holy and dear, this is something you’ll want everyone to see. If I’m lying, you can strike me down.”

  “Tempting, but we both know that doesn’t have a lot of impact on you. If I don’t like what you say, I’m destroying the footage.”

  “Fair enough.” She wondered if she sounded as exhausted as she felt. Giving into her need for sleep would have to wait a little longer. She needed to be sincere and apologetic.

  Moments later, they were in a conference room on the far end of the floor where his office was. He’d grabbed some portable equipment, and swore up and down he didn’t tell anyone what it was for. As he set up the tripod, she clipped the microphone into place.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  Last-second inspiration struck, and she turned off her company phone and set it on the table to her left. “Set.”

  “Rolling.”

  That single word tugged all of her doubt loose and sent it tumbling around her. Her mind froze. Why didn’t she take a moment to script this out?

  “We’ll edit out the dead air.” Impatience filled Raphael’s words.

  Right. She could do this. She wrapped herself in a mask of regret—not that it was hard; the stuff almost leaked from her pores—and looked into the camera. “For those of you who don’t know me, six months ago I took on the role of the public face of Ubiquity. Since then, the company has faced its share of trials from all directions, culminating with the SEC investigations, rumors of suppressed search results and deleted content, and recent video footage showing an individual rumored to be me.” She didn’t want this to be lengthy, but it was important she take as much focus off other angels or demons as possible.

  “In light of recent events, I’ve resigned my position, effective immediately. The things I did or didn’t do were my choice, and meant to give people direction, not take it away. Ubiquity does not support and is not responsible for any of my actions, and I don’t wish for them to be affiliated with my mistakes. Thank you.” She looked at Raphael, who stared back, wide eyed. She made a slicing motion in front of her neck, to signal he should cut filming, but there was no response.

  “That’s it. I’m done,” she said.

  He shook his head, as if to clear away a fog, and pressed a series of buttons on the camera. “Of course. Or not. Are you serious?

  “Told you you’d like it.” She felt lighter, having taken this step. At the same time, the backlash would hurt more than her. Her gut clenched at possibilities of the immediate fallout.

  “I hate it. But you’re doing the right thing.”

  A knock on the conference-room door kept her from asking him to explain.

  “Yeah?” Raphael called.

  A demon Ronnie recognized but couldn’t name and stuck his head in. “Sorry to interrupt.” His tone was terse. “The FBI is in the lobby, and they’re looking to ask her”—he nodded at Ronnie—“a few questions.”

  So much for controlling the video of the L.A. incident going public.

  “How did they know you were here?” Raphael asked. Ubiquity and U-View were two separate buildings, several miles apart, and she’d phased into Raph’s office.

  For all she knew, Lucifer told them. “The walls have ears.”

  Raphael turned to the demon in the doorway. “Tell them I’ll be right there.”

  The demon nodded at Ronnie. “And her?”

  “I’ll be right there,” Raphael said again.

  “Got it.” The guy closed the door behind him.

  Ronnie might have wondered about Raphael’s defense of her on any other day. Now there wasn’t time. She needed to be other places and couldn’t express enough how much his help meant. “Can you trust him?” she asked.

  “Yes. Do you still want this video distributed?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Raph smirked. “Well, if the public finds out the FBI has a hold of it, portions will go viral real quick. Especially if we get it uploaded before the FBI gets their hands on it. They’ll need to do damage control. Do what you have to do. I’ll take care of them. You’ve drawn the blame to yourself, so as long as we cooperate, we’ll be fine.”

  “I know you hate me—”

  “I don’t. But you do irritate the fuck out of me.”

  That made her smile. “I can be a bit of a prima donna sometimes.”

  “What’s going on? You’re deleting data. Lucifer’s firing people who kiss your ass. The SEC investigation. The FBI. Things have really gone to hell since you started working here.”

  “Hell. Because I was a demon. I get it.” She might have been offended by the sentiment, but he was right. “I don't know what’s going on. I have a couple theories and a bunch of pieces that don't make a whole picture, but no real answers.”

>   “How can I help?”

  The offer caught her off guard, but as she processed, it made sense. A conversation they had so many months ago rushed back to taunt her. “I think you’re one of the few doing what we were meant for—looking out for humanity and helping agents.”

  “Except you, but I'll make an exception today.” He winked.

  “I appreciate that. I'll probably call the favor in before it expires, if I’m actually a fugitive. That is, if I have a way to get back to you. I’m starting to get a bit paranoid about who’s watching.”

  “Is Tia with you?” he asked. “I know that’s her in the clip.”

  If she forgives me. “I hope so.”

  Someone knocked, and he glanced at the door then back at her. “She has my secure email. Encrypted. Private. All that good stuff. When you know what I can do, have her reach out to me.”

  For the first time since talking to Michael, Ronnie felt like something might be going in her favor. “Thanks. I mean that a lot.” The pounding on the door cut her off from saying anything else.

  “Good luck.” He gave her a dry smile.

  She nodded and phased away.

  “IS RONNIE ALL RIGHT?” Izrafel asked.

  Michael raised his brows at the bizarre greeting. He’d been in the fallen angel’s apartment less than thirty seconds. “She’s under a bit of stress, but otherwise all right, the last time I checked. Why would you ask me that?”

  “You’re in the video too, so I figure you’ve got the inside scoop.” Izrafel pointed at the television, which was running a cable news channel. Clips from the fight in L.A. played out, and then the camera split to show two faces. The sound was turned down, but the ticker at the bottom said the FBI wanted Ronnie for questioning.

  “What else have you heard?” Michael didn’t like the new surge of tension boiling inside. After the conversation with Abaddon and talking Ronnie down, he’d forgotten what kind of havoc the high school footage could wreak.

  “This is their top story. They repeat the highlights every ten minutes. The FBI are also looking to identify the other people in the footage. Where they previously believed the explosion wasn’t related to similar ones in other locales, they’re taking a second look at all of it. The four of you are wanted for questioning, and speculation is that you’re working for some militant or terrorist organization.”

  Did Tia know that? Michael didn’t have a way to get a hold of her. If they wanted Ronnie, they only had to go to Ubiquity. A nudge drew his attention back to the TV and an employee-badge photo of him, along with his name.

  “Looks like you’ve been identified,” Izrafel said.

  “I only left her an hour ago. How did we go from maybe that’s one of those Ubiquity executives to wanted for questioning and possible terrorist connections that quickly?”

  “A better question is, how did you let them take that horrible photo of you? No wonder you left the company.”

  Michael glared.

  Izrafel shrugged and gave him a half smile. “I understand this is critical, but I’m trying to lighten the mood. If you blow a fuse now, you won’t make it through whatever’s going on.” He turned up the sound, as a new shot of Ronnie appeared over the news anchor’s right shoulder.

  “The FBI has released this clip and asked the Nashville, Tennessee region to be on the lookout for the fugitive.” The video expanded to fill the screen, and Ronnie’s voice filtered through the speakers. “In light of recent events, I’ve resigned my position, effective immediately. Ubiquity does not support and is not responsible for any of my actions...”

  The camera zoomed back to the anchor desk. “At this time, officials are asking anyone who has information on the case to please call the tip line, rather than approaching the suspects.”

  “And now it’s a full-on manhunt?” Izrafel sank onto the edge of the couch. “What did you do to get instant upgrades?”

  That was a good question. The answer tumbled into Michael’s head and he frowned at how much sense it made. “It has to be coming from someone at Ubiquity or who’s working with Gabriel. That’s how they got the photo. If the tips come in and they match the evidence...” Which they would. Tension cranked through him, dialing up another notch when Tiamet’s photo appeared on screen as well. “And now we’ve all be identified.” Where did he need to focus first? Finding Ronnie? Figuring out where the others were?

  Izrafel studied him, concern in his gaze. “Who did you piss off?”

  “The usual suspects.” Which didn’t explain why Gabriel was doing this. “Whom do you keep touch with? Fallen, celestial, cherubs with human hosts.”

  “It’s a long list. Do you want every name?” Izrafel grabbed his phone from the coffee table and swiped the screen.

  “No. I want you to vanish, and get a hold of as many of them as you can and tell them to do the same.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know”—Michael was skipping through a list of what next in his head— “but it seems like the smart thing to do, until we figure out what Gabriel’s plan is.” His phone chimed, and he grabbed it in a flash. Relief mingled with stress when he saw Ronnie’s name. “Are you all right?” he asked her.

  “Depends on what you know, and if it’s something I don’t.” Her sarcasm was a relief.

  He related what Izrafel told him and what they were watching on TV.

  Her sigh echoed in his ear. “Well, fuck me.”

  “Check on Tiamet and Irdu. Tell them to drop off the radar. Then meet me in half an hour,” he said. There was no time for niceties if this had escalated so quickly.

  “Meet you where, and what are you up to?”

  “To check on a friend. I’ll be in our favorite spot.”

  Would she know what he meant?

  “Got it.” Her words were clipped.

  “And be careful.” Until they knew what they were dealing with—beyond a group of angels and demons with the power to blow up entire cities and use the media to turn the world against Ronnie—caution was the only answer.

  He hung up with her and cautioned Izrafel again to be careful, before phasing to Italy. When he saw Abaddon’s place—or rather, the crater where her cottage used to sit—concern tightened through every one of his muscles, until his neck ached and his jaw protested being clenched. He’d hoped he was being paranoid, but he might have understated the danger.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  We’re in your favorite place.

  Irdu’s text made a lot more sense to Ronnie after she talked to Michael. Almost the same phrasing as Michael, but with a very different meaning. Ronnie spilled through fragments of thought, forcing order into the chaos that was her brain, and pulled out which places she’d been to the most while using the Ubiquity Tracker app.

  Las Vegas. Without question. Except that left a huge territory for her to cover, even if she stuck to the tourist spots. She phased to the south end of the strip. Despite assuming her physical form, she kept a tiny shield around herself, to distract people and motivate them to look anywhere but at her.

  She scanned the faces of the crowds. The swatch of people and emotions threatened to distract and overwhelm her. There was no way she could pick two angels out of this. And then she saw the giant banner on the side of a pyramid-shaped building. Criss Angel. Believe.

  She cut a straight path toward the Luxor, and paused inside the main entrance to figure out which way the restaurants were. Moments later, she found the food court, and two familiar glows sitting at a table near the frozen-yogurt shop. Tia wore a Luxor hat pulled low over her eyes and kept her gaze focused on a half-melted cup of fro-yo. Apparently Ronnie wasn’t the only person hiding.

  Irdu looked up as she approached, and met her halfway. “I’m glad you found us.” He crushed his mouth to hers.

  The kiss settled her thoughts for the few seconds it lasted. When he broke away, he tangled his fingers with hers.

  She didn’t want to be abrupt, but given how quickly things were escalating, she
didn’t see an alternative. “I’m more sorry than you know, and you don’t have to forgive me, but I need to know now if we have the same goals or if we’re going our separate ways.”

  “Why would we leave you?” Irdu asked.

  “I cost you your jobs and made you fugitives. I can’t guarantee it, but I’m pretty sure if you went back to hell right now and told Lucifer it was a mistake to trust me, he’d take care of you.”

  Tia looked up, lips pursed. “He’s the one who fired us.”

  “For working for me,” Ronnie said. She drifted her attention around the food court and landed on a group of five people, pointing and chatting with their heads bent together. When she made eye-contact with one of them, he jerked his gaze away, said something to his friends, and they all left. Weird. She was all over the news, but the shield she radiated should keep anyone from caring Ronnie was there. The situation must be screwing with her focus. She poured a little more effort into diluting their presence.

  Irdu pulled her closer, and drew his nose along her jaw to kiss her cheek. “We never did anything we didn’t want to. We saw your resignation video, though. The entire world has seen it at this point. You were right to do that, whatever your reasons. And we’re all on the same page. You have to already know I’m not walking away from you.”

  “Me neither.” Tia nodded. “I’m in for whatever. I always have been.”

  She wanted to sob with relief. She settled for pulling up a seat at their table. “Thank you.” Something flashed out of the corner of her eye, and she turned in time to see someone dropping a camera in her purse and trying not to make eye contact with her. “I’m glad the two of you got out before SWAT or whatever kicked in your doors.”

  Ronnie glanced around them. Every third or fourth pocket of people seemed to be staring at them. Pointing. Grabbing cameras. Whispering. She looked behind her, to locate an attraction she might have missed on her way in. Nope. Just more food court. The crowds couldn’t be looking at her, Irdu, and Tia. Her shields should convince them the three were the most bland, non-interesting things in existence. Not worth a glance, let alone a murmur and a photo.