Closing his eyes, he reached out, opening his mind to the city. He was hit by a barrage of sound, mental wishes and dreams, prayers and curses. People wishing not only joy for others but demanding someone all powerful fix their problems. Gabriel hated that about humans, how they could look to a higher power to fix problems they made themselves. That using the name of any god in a war, claiming that only they worshipped the true god, gave them the right to try and eradicate one another.
Focusing wholly on the blood link he had with his child, he felt her mind. She still had not learned to shield. Then again, why should she? He had not exactly been an attentive father. The woman he had accidentally impregnated should never have been able to bear half angelic offspring. Had Gabriel known the woman held Seer blood in her veins he might have thought twice about seducing the shy female. But something about her had called to him, and he had given into a desire he had never before experienced.
From that one night came Aria, a being that should never have been born, a Nephilim—the offspring of a human and angel—who against all odds had survived. Yet her presence broke the fundamental rules of nature. She should, in essence, not exist. She had the potential to wield such power she could tip the scales in this battle between angel and demon. Her power, as of yet, had only manifested to ether manipulation. She could take the energy of a person and change it, fix it. She could see and communicate with spirits and those who had passed over.
Gabriel feared, deeply to his bones, that she would fully awaken into her true Nephilim form soon. Then her power might rival, if not surpass, Michael’s—and that would put her in the crosshairs of not only the leader of the Malakhim, but every species that looked to gain power. Gabriel needed to find her and move her out of L.A. as quickly as possible.
Locking his mind on the fragile link between them, he followed the draw and moved down the street, stopping before a small two-story brick house. He looked up at the window and saw her shadow move across the curtains. In that second, his mind went blank and his mouth dry. How was it that a being such as him would fear his own child more than his half-crazed brother who seemed intent on wiping out anyone other than pure angels?
How was he supposed to do this? He had been gone so long she was likely to look at him as an enemy rather than a concerned father. And why shouldn’t she? Since meeting the Seer of Empathy and Hindsight he felt more connected to humanity than ever before, and that included a desire to know his child, not just send her money every month.
He walked up the cracking steps to the small call box and pressed the worn white button for the top apartment. Then he waited. A soft voice came over the small box and chills ran over his skin. This was his child, his daughter. The words froze in his throat—five years was a long time.
“Hello? Hello? Look if you are expecting to just be let in, I don’t do that, asshole. Try someone else…”
“Aria…” His voice almost broke as he spoke her name. The silence that stretched made his heart ache. Had the speaker stopped working?
“What the hell do you want?” Despite the anger, he knew she must be feeling, her voice was calm and monotone.
“Please Aria, I need to speak with you.”
“Well I am afraid I don’t wish to speak to you, Gabriel. Good day.” The line went dead and Gabriel slammed his fist against the brick wall. Chunks of brick and mortar fell to the steps around him and he pulled his fist back, brushing the red brick powder from his knuckles.
Okay, so this would be harder the he’d expected. Placing his hand on the door he sent a shockwave of energy down into the lock, and the electric tumbler popped. He pushed open the door and made his way up the stairs. Stopping at her door, he lifted his hand and knocked.
“Aria, this is important.”
“Like the last ten years were important? Like my mother’s funeral was important?” she shouted through the door.
“You are in danger, Aria, please listen.” How did a father get through to his child? Especially one he had essentially neglected her whole life?
“I’m always in danger; I shouldn’t exist. Isn’t that what you told me, Gabriel? What is it your people call me? An abomination?”
Gabriel pressed his head to the door and closed his eyes, one hand flat to the door. He didn’t want to break it down; he wanted her to trust him. Yeah, like that was going to happen. He could sense her on the other side of the door. He could almost see her if he focused on her energy.
“You are my daughter, and I am a fool.” Salt—he could smell it, she was crying. He damned himself for doing this to her, bringing her any form of pain. Who the fuck was he kidding? He had brought her more pain then anyone alive. She deserved better than this.
He had hoped she would answer, but the next sound he heard chilled his blood. A loud crash and the sound of shattering glass radiated through the door, and her scream froze his heart. Gabriel grabbed the door handle and pushed. The weak door was no barrier—it literally popped off its hinges.
The scene before him sent terror through his frozen heart. Aria had her back to him, and the tip of a blade protruded from her back, her dark blood coating the silver and dripping to the floor. Her soft gasps and the low gurgling from her throat told him all he needed; his daughter was about to die. Rage like he had never felt before hit him—with a roar he was across the room.
The assassin blinked at the wrath-filled angelic being bearing down on him, and his eyes went wide. He did not get a chance to exit through the shattered window. A hand went around his throat and his bald head smacked back against the wall leaving a dent. He gasped, trying to suck in air, slightly pointed teeth exposed as he desperately gasped. Gabriel recognized his species. Daeva, another abomination in the eyes of angels. The unholy union of lower demons and lower angels. They were bottom feeders that were never accepted by either species and lived in the darkness, hunting those weaker—taking jobs where they could, half of them never asking or caring what the job was.
“Make peace with your god, Daeva.” The cold hate in the angel’s voice chilled the air as the assassin clawed with talon-like nails at Gabriel’s wrist.
Gabriel flicked his hand to the side and the being’s neck cracked and snapped like a twig. Dropping the body, he turned to where his only child lay curled up on the floor, the sword sticking from her upper chest. Her hair covered her face, her body silent and still.
Falling to his knees, he placed his shaking hands on her. Her energy was there, she was breathing. He grabbed the blade and pulled it from her chest, a flush of blood spilling from the wound. How did you stop this kind of bleeding? She was only half angel; her body could not heal this wound as fast as his.
Aria gasped in pain and rolled to her back. Her eyes opened, locking on his. Accusation and hate filled that gaze, and he could not defend himself against any of it. He had brought this on her. Gabriel gritted his teeth. Those eyes had always reminded him so much of himself, golden and shining. He could not lose her. What should he do? His mind locked on the only choice before him. He scooped her up into his arms and she whimpered in pain as he cradled her to him.
“Sorry, baby, I have to get you somewhere safe. Hold on for me, I know where.”
Gabriel gathered the energy of nature around him, feeling it raging through his nerves, tingling over his wings, and pulling his power harshly from his body. The air rippled before him, crackling with power. His skin burned, his very essence fighting against this kind of magic as he tore open a fissure in the fabric of the world. There would be no flying; this would be a direct transportation. It would leave him drained and ravaged for weeks on top of his still healing wounds, but her life was more important than his. There was only one place he could take her where she would be safe from Raphael and Michael.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Asmodeus, Sin of Lust, stared at his latest face in the mirror. Salt and pepper hair ran down to a stubble-covered chin. His eyes were dark chocolate brown, so unfamiliar to him. Every face he wore was unfamiliar, not
a single one felt right. But that was his curse. He had to feed on sexual energy, and bring out the sin of lust in those he hunted. He had to become their greatest desire.
Tonight he had found his prey, a female that had done nothing but break up families for the past ten years. She had seduced twelve different men just so she could feel the high of watching the families be ripped apart. The more kids the family had the better, so Lust had hunted her down. The moment he connected with her he had become her most secret desire. He knew in an instant all her wants, all her desires—her darkest, most intimate needs were laid bare before him.
So, as was his nature he fed her lust, gave her everything she needed, took her to heights of pleasure until she craved him and hunted him down. Her soul was filled with nothing but want. She had no feelings for anyone or anything other than fulfilling her own desires. She reveled in the pain she caused. So he had taken her soul into himself and sent it on to Hades to be purified. Well, that was the aim. With Hades dying, the underworld was breaking down, and the Sins were powerless to stop it.
“Deus! You in there?” The voice of Sera, the Seer of Hindsight, called through the door.
He turned his gaze to the door and sighed. He really wanted to shower. He felt dirty, he always did after forcing himself to give these people their darkest desires. His calling had become a chore, one he hated. Over the centuries, it had come to mean little to him, making him feel like a mindless drone driven by pleasures that were not his own.
“Yes, Sera, I will be right out.”
Deus. He had to admit, he liked the name the Seer of Hindsight had given him. The slow addition of females into his family, ones that were immune to his power of attraction, was a refreshing change for him.
He pushed away from the sink and opened the door, then walked out into the newly built house the Sins had completed for Sera only a few months before. Thanks to the Malakhim, her first home had burned to the ground. Of course, with Lucifer’s money acumen they had a new home for her in a new location within a month. It helped when you knew supernatural creatures willing to use a little touch of magic to help. Heading down the stairs of the farmhouse he walked into the new fully tricked-out computer room and flicked his brother Envy on the back of the head.
“Ass, you not even going to shave? You look like a man in the midst of a midlife crisis.”
“Screw you, Ze. Every time I shave it grows back in minutes. I finished the hunt last night, so this form should fade soon. I am making the most of it—Sera promised me meatloaf tonight.” God, he missed food when he was stuck in his mist form.
“Yes I did, Deus, with fresh rolls and mashed potatoes.” The red-haired Seer entered the computer room and offered him a glass of wine with a smile. She had the same energy as Isabelle, the wife of his brother, Greed. It relaxed and calmed him, gave him clarity and more control over his eternally shifting form.
“Hey, don’t I get a drink? I’m the one you’re marrying, you know?” Ze pouted and looked at his future wife with big silver eyes, bottom lip sticking out.
Sera stared at him and lowered her head so she was nose-to-nose with him, her jade eyes locked on his silver ones. She lifted her hands and ran them through his starlight-colored hair, a smirk upon her lips.
“You’re going to have to ask much nicer than that, my love. Remember, you’re stuck with me for the rest of your life. And I know all your dirty little secrets. You don’t want me telling Cerberus that you weren’t really drunk when you started the rumor about them being a three-headed dog, do you?”
Ze’s eyes widened in shock, then he glared at his female. “You wouldn’t?”
“Try me.” The teasing tone to her voice had Deus chuckling, and the Seer blushing right red as she remembered he was in the room. When Ze and Sera got started they forgot everyone else around them.
“If you two want some privacy I can head back to New York. I am grateful you offered me a room…”
“Shut up, Deus, this is your home, too. A home to all of you. It will be Christmas in a few weeks, and with Hades, well you know. We should be together with your Father and Persephone. It is the right thing to do.”
“Not all of us.” Deus dropped his eyes as both he and Ze felt the helpless abyss of not knowing where their brother was, or even if Wrath was still alive by now.
“We will find him, brother, don’t worry about that. Until then, I have a lead I want you to check out in Montana. A video surfaced this morning of a possible Seer.” Ze’s fingers flew over the keyboard and he brought up the video.
It was fuzzy, badly filmed, but you could clearly see a small child kneeling by a possible dead body. Then she seemed to shimmer and the body sat up. Seconds later a blond-haired woman ran into the frame, scooping up the child, and then the phone was dropped.
“Could be nothing, maybe that person was just knocked out?” He was skeptical, and so were many people. Even this video, as viral as it had become, had debunkers.
“Possibly, but it is worth checking out. We promised Persephone we would be at the house in two weeks—just in case it is, you know, just in case Father leaves us.” Ze had never really loved their father but he respected who he was and what he represented.
The wound Hades had suffered at the hands of Michael was slowly, terribly killing him, draining him of his live force. He had gone from a young male in his forties to an old man, wrinkled and aged. Eternally beside him was his wife, Persephone, her resolve and hope fading just as fast as Hades was dying. The Sins were taking turns spending time at the house in Alaska. It had been Isabelle who suggested Christmas there, and of course, no one would say no, not now.
Deus nodded. He could get from Nebraska to Montana and back again in no time at all. He was one of the lucky demons who could shift through the shadows, using them to travel. Not all the brothers had this ability—only himself, Mammon, and Abbadon. The rest were stuck with normal modes of travel, unless one of the others took them through the shadows.
“Sure thing. I have a few days left before this body evaporates. I will report back what I find. Keep me updated on Father’s condition?”
“Of course, I am sure it is nothing. But we need to keep one step ahead of Michael so let’s just find out to be sure.” Ze turned his eyes back to the screen and brought up the town name. Writing it down, he handed it to Deus. He took the note and walked to Sera, regret in his currently chocolate eyes.
“Looks like I am going to miss dinner. My apologies.” He bowed his head a little to her. Her smile was infectious as she shook her head.
“Don’t be so silly, I will make it again. Go. The sooner you find out if this video is true the quicker you can come home.”
He nodded to the Seer and slapped his brother on the back before heading into a shaded corner. The shadows came alive around him, embracing his form and taking him into a realm of darkness where no light could penetrate. He formed the destination in his mind—Stillwater, Montana.
The scene before him vanished, words drifting to him through the darkness. “You know, Pixie, it is highly unfair he gets that ability and I have to fly coach.” The last thing Deus heard was the chime-like laugher of the Seer as he gave himself up to darkness.
The shadows seeped into his skin, turning him into a being of shadow. The time passed in the blink of an eye. He felt the shadows writhing around him before they deposited him in the darkness somewhere in his desired location. It took him a few moments to separate himself from the soothing dark. The shadows clung to him, trying to pull him back into their comforting embrace. He was tempted to remain there. At least in the black he knew who he was; he was not a list of endless unknown faces. His form emerged from the darkness into the dank light of the alleyway.
The cold of the air bit into his skin instantly and his breath misted before him. Damn Ze, the bastard could have told him there would be snow on the ground. Of course there would be snow. It was winter and this was Montana. He felt like an idiot. It proved to him just how little time he actua
lly spent in corporeal form. Swearing low he rubbed his arms and emerged from the alley onto a very busy street.
TV station vans littered the road while people milled back and forth from what looked like the rubble of what had once been a very nice building. Asmodeus walked to the closest van with the sliding door wide open and reached in to snag the winter coat left inside. Slipping his arms into the thermal protection he headed off in the direction of the building, shoving his hands into his pockets. Yeah, he was going to kick Ze’s ass for this.
“I have told you bastard vultures before, there is no story here, get out of my store!” The irate voice of an old man shouting from inside the store brought Deus to a pause. He stood back watching the gaggle of reporters and cameras being ushered out the door. One slipped on an icy patch and fell to his ass, his camera crashing to the ground. There was loud swearing, and a woman in a long red coat stepped over her fallen work colleague, giving Deus just enough room to slip into the door. The small bell overhead rang as he did.
The store was more like a small market for everything from food to hunting goods. The walls were lined with clothing, camping supplies, winter gear, and food stores. In one corner a whole group of generators mingled with women’s jewelry and children’s toys. It looked like this was the place to find anything. His eye caught on the mounted pictures layering one wall, all exquisite photography of animals—so close and detailed they almost looked like they would come alive. Mixed in were photos of some of the rarest and mythical beasts known to the universe.
Deus knew in a second that those beasts were no product of Photoshop; those were the real deal. They stirred something inside him, awe at the talent of the person that could make such wonderful art. He walked toward the counter, his eyes locked on one with a wolf howling into the night. Below that was a small photo of the photographer smiling into the camera. He was trapped by her eyes, similar to a raging storm—they stirred him. What caught him most was she was the woman from the video, the one who had grabbed the child. His mind was so distracted by her smile, the voice of the old man interrupted the power those eyes had on him.
Wrath's Patience (Seven Deadly Sins Book 3) Page 13