A Fire in the Heart

by L. J. LaBarthe

  “Which is a point,” Melcherisa said. He looked thoughtful. “At the same time we all descend on TCC to have our meeting, maybe Max can neutralize their data.”

  “I can destroy it, if you want,” Max said.

  Melcherisa looked at Michael. “What do you think, Michael?”

  Michael pursed his lips, and Gabriel saw an expression of concern on his face. “I think,” Michael began slowly, “that we should hold that in reserve. As a bartering chip should they refuse to cooperate.”

  “Aren’t we going to get rid of them for good and all?” Lily asked.

  “Yes, but we will do that at the conclusion of this business, not while we are ensuring the safety of Earth and the gates between each reality. Let us be certain that there is no way to eradicate the safe passage between our various spaces before we erase everything. We may need their data to reverse their actions, if the worst-case scenario occurs.”

  “And this is us,” Uriel said. “Of course it’ll occur. Fuckers.”

  “Language, Uriel,” Michael said.

  Uriel rolled his eyes.

  “I believe that covers everything, then, for now,” Ondrass said. “Let us begin our tasks.”

  “Ondrass, may I borrow the meeting room two doors down the hall for a time?” Michael asked as everyone began to get up and file out of the boardroom.

  “Certainly, Prince. My expensive office suite is your expensive office suite. For the moment.”

  Michael sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Thank you,” he said. Then he turned to the Venatores, Liam, and Declan. “Come with me,” he said. “You as well, Gabriel.”

  “Yes, sir,” the Venatores chorused, and Gabriel echoed them, an automatic response to an order from his superior officer.

  The little group followed Michael out of the room and down the hall, then into the meeting room. Michael waited until they were all inside, and then he shut and locked the door behind them.

  “Sit,” he ordered.

  They all did, taking up chairs around a rectangle table, much smaller than the one in Ondrass’s boardroom and much less extravagant. Gabriel bit the inside of his cheek as he waited for Michael to start giving them all a dressing-down. He had a feeling this was going to end up with all of them arguing, and he didn’t want to argue with Michael at all. Declan had raised a valid point, however, and Gabriel was dreading the fight he imagined to be right around the corner.

  “Why did none of you accompany Liam and Declan into the office in Bangor?” Michael asked.

  Angelique stood up and saluted smartly. “Sir. I didn’t want to let them do it without backup, but they insisted. And they made a good argument—we know these people hate everything that isn’t one hundred percent human, and we’re shifters, so we fall into the monster category of living beings. They assured me they were skilled in this sort of infiltration, and I took them at their word. They proved to be exactly as they said and returned to the rendezvous point four hours or so after they left. I am a little hazy on the hour as none of the clocks in the library seemed to be accurate. Sir.”

  “I see. What if something had happened while you were investigating, Declan? Liam?”

  “Then we would’ve yelled for Shateiel with our brains,” Declan said.

  “And what if he could not reach you due to the wards and protections that may have been employed? You could have been killed,” Michael said, his voice stern.

  “Them’s the breaks,” Declan said. “Look, you’re going to give us shit anyway, so why don’t you just move on with it?”

  Michael’s eyebrows shot up almost to his hairline. Gabriel could see him clenching and unclenching his jaw, and he held his breath. As far as he could remember, no one had ever spoken to Michael like that.

  “Do you have any notion how your deaths would have affected Angelique or Baxter? Or Gabriel?” Michael’s hands were clenched into fists, and his voice was very tightly controlled.

  Declan frowned. “If—and it’s a big damn if—we died, then they’d grieve. But they’re soldiers, so they’re able to deal with it better than regular folk. Gabe, well, he’d just visit us in Heaven. Anyway, it’s not like angels die, so what do you care?”

  Michael closed his eyes, and Gabriel turned to Declan. “Declan, I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but you’re being an ass. Okay, so you made a call, and as it turns out, it was the right one. But next time, you or your brother better damn well get confirmation from me before deciding to play dress ups and black ops.”

  Declan slouched in his chair, a sulky expression on his face. “Okay.”

  “We’re sorry, Gabe,” Liam said, shooting his brother a quick look. “We just wanted to get the job done.”

  “I know. I get it. But if things had gone wrong, you two could have died. Angelique and Baxter and Riley could have died. And Shateiel, Asaf, and Vel could have died.”

  Liam’s expression became confused. “Angels don’t die, do they?”

  Before Gabriel could answer, Michael made a choked noise. Turning to look at his lover, Gabriel leapt to his feet, seeing the tears on Michael’s cheeks. “Michael?”

  Michael waved him back, and Gabriel sat down, although he kept his gaze locked on Michael’s face. Michael took a deep breath and then stared at Liam and Declan, unblinking. Despite the tears on his cheeks, his voice was very even, very calm, and very soft.

  “You foolish children. You think you know all there is to know about monsters, angels, and demons, but you know less than a thimble full. Angels do die. Angels died by the score in the Seventy Years War. Angels have died since the first war ever to be fought, the War in Heaven.

  “When an angel dies, the rest of angelkind feel it. It feels as if a hole has been punched in one’s Grace. A piece of the host has lost its light. And we will never see that angel again. For once an angel dies, he or she returns to the source that made us: God. Their energy, their Grace, becomes one with God, and although God is forever, an angel is not. If we die, that is the end.

  “We can be hurt in battle, and there have been poisons that have caused us illness. It is rare for an angel to die, but the Seventy Years War saw many of us die, and there are no new angels. We do not have children. God does not make new angels to replace the dead. Our numbers are less than they were in the beginning. I remember and feel every single death of one of our kind. One imagines that the rest of my Brotherhood feel the same way. So yes, you mortal fools, we do die. We bleed, we sweat, we tire, we can be hurt, and we can be made ill. Do not presume to know all about us, for you do not. You cannot. You will not.”

  As soon as he’d finished, Michael turned on his heel and marched out of the room. The door closing behind him was a soft click, but to Gabriel, it had all the power of a gunshot.

  Gabriel got to his feet, his expression grim. “You lot think on that. And Angelique and Baxter, if you two want to beat the crap out of these two, go right ahead. Declan and Liam, you call me before doing anything like this again, you hear me? Yeah, I know you got us intel, and I’m grateful, but don’t take such fucking big risks.”

  “Yes, sir,” Angelique said. She saluted him, and Gabriel looked at her sharply. He saw on her face a deep and abiding respect, and he inclined his head to her.

  “At ease, soldier,” he said to her, and she sat down. “You’re all on R and R until tomorrow,” Gabriel continued, looking around the room. “I suggest you use the time to talk and relax, and make sure shit like this doesn’t happen again. Got it?”

  “Sir, yes, sir!” was the loud chorused reply, and Gabriel gave the little group a nod.

  “Then I’ll see you in twenty-four hours. Dismissed.” He walked out of the room without a backward glance and reached out with his power, seeking Michael.

  Michael was on the roof, and Gabriel teleported up to join him. He saw his lover standing at the very edge, looking out over Portland. Without a word, Gabriel walked to Michael’s side and wrapped his arms around him, holding him close.

  M
ichael was stiff in his arms, but after several moments, Gabriel felt him begin to relax, felt the infinitesimal shifts of muscle that gradually lost their tension. Finally, Michael sighed heavily and leaned into Gabriel, resting his head on his shoulder.

  “What do you need?” Gabriel asked, keeping his mental voice gentle.

  “At this moment, I fear what I need is not possible.”

  “Tell me anyway.”

  “As you wish.” Michael was silent for several moments. “I need very much for this to be over. I need to be on Belle Coeur with you, with nothing more pressing to deal with than routine patrol reports. I need to know that the world is safe, that all of this galaxy and the associated realities are safe. I need to be obeyed by disobedient children who think they are cleverer than I, and I need to have Ondrass cease in his calling me Prince.”

  “That’s quite a list,” Gabriel agreed. “And aye, I reckon it’ll be hard to do right at this moment, so how ’bout a compromise?”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “A cuddle.”

  Michael pulled back enough to look into Gabriel’s face. There was a small smile on his lips, and Gabriel reached up one hand to run his fingers through Michael’s hair.

  “That would be a very welcome compromise,” Michael said.

  “Then that I can do.” Gabriel sat down, pulling Michael with him and got comfortable, Michael in his lap. He wrapped his arms around Michael again, holding him close and resting his forehead against Michael’s cheek, letting down the shields around his power just enough to allow his Grace to touch Michael’s own. Michael let out another quiet sigh and leaned into Gabriel, his own Grace reaching out and twining around Gabriel’s.

  “I love you very much,” Gabriel murmured.

  “As I love you,” Michael said. “Though in truth, I do not love your shifter at this moment.”

  “Yeah, me too. He really was a cockhead in there.”

  “Language.”

  “I reckon I know why, though. He’s still worn out from being ridden by the loa, and he’s been asked some curly questions about that by the Venatores.”

  Michael sighed. “Wonderful. I neglected to order them not to press that issue.”

  “I’ll do it.” Gabriel concentrated and reached out, looking for Angelique with his power. He found her still in the meeting room, still with the rest of her pack, Liam and Declan.

  “Angelique, I’ve got orders for you from Michael. He doesn’t want you or your pack to hassle Declan and Liam about their Hoodoo.”

  “Gabriel?” Her mental voice was surprised. “I didn’t know you could do this.”

  “I don’t do it often. Did you get the orders okay?”

  “Sure. Why wouldn’t I? You’re the telepathy expert, I’m only telepathic when I’ve gone wolf.”

  “Let the others know, then, please.”

  “I will. Is Michael okay?”

  “He’s pretty upset right now. He’ll be okay in a bit. It’s more the angry type of upset, before you ask, but aye, he’ll be right as rain soon enough.”

  “Okay. I’ll make sure Declan’s kept away from him for a while, though. I don’t know what the fuck got into him.”

  “He’s still tired from the loa. Tell him to rest. Go with him, and fuck him to sleep if you must. Just get him to get some sleep.”

  She laughed in his mind, and he grinned at the infectious sound. “I’ll take that as an order too.”

  “Good girl.”

  “Tell Michael we love him.” It was thought in a rush.

  “I will. You know he loves you all too, yeah? We both do.”

  “Thanks, Gabe. We’ll talk later.”

  “Got that right. Cheers, Trouble.” Gabriel broke the contact and turned his full attention to Michael once again. “She told me to tell you that she and the pack love you.”

  Michael looked at him. “Did she?”

  “Aye. And I told her that you love them, too. And so do I.”

  Michael reached up to cup his cheek. “You are a very good soul, Gabriel. Thank you.”

  “What’re you thanking me for now?”

  “For being you.” Michael leaned close and gave Gabriel a chaste kiss. “I love you very, very much. More than I have the ability to express.”

  “Aye, I feel the same about you, dear one.” Gabriel reached up and ran his fingers through Michael’s dark hair. “Your hair’s getting long again.”

  Michael blinked, surprise on his handsome face. “Is it? Perhaps I should see a barber while we are here.”

  “Or you could use your power,” Gabriel suggested.

  “I prefer a barber. I enjoy helping humans in their places of work.”

  “Okay.” Gabriel tightened his hold on Michael and kissed the tip of his nose. “Whatever you want.”

  “You are very kind.”

  16

  RAZIEL WAS more than a little annoyed. He had been reading through the various files that Liam and Declan had stolen, and the contents were making him angry. Set out in clinical, emotionless sentences were the plans for closing all the gates between Earth and everywhere else, the various experiments done on humans, monsters, and demons to create guardians, and the litany of drugs used to facilitate those experiments. Raziel knew that if Raphael saw this, he would be enraged, and then he would grieve. For himself, however, Raziel decided that rage was far more acceptable than grief.

  Uriel sat down beside him, almost throwing himself into the comfortable chair. “What have you got?”

  “A lot of shit that’s making me furious,” Raziel said.

  “Yeah, I can tell. You look about two seconds away from blasting something with your power. Is it that bad?”

  Raziel sat back and looked at his lover. “Uri, I can’t even describe it. It’s just… it’s so huge. This has been a long time in the planning, even before the Seventy Years War. On the one hand, I’m almost breathless at the methodical steps taken to get to where they are now with their plans, and on the other hand, I’m furious that they even conceived this idea at all.”

  “So what made these people decide to do this in the first place?” Uriel asked. “I mean, we know what their goal is, but why?”

  “Apart from hate?” Raziel ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Remember Bob Taytton?”

  “How could I forget that fucker?”

  “Quite. It turns out he had a younger brother, who was a bit less crazy than he was but felt that everything should stay in the reality it was born or created in. Anyway, after his brother died and the war began, this younger dude decided that maybe Bob was really onto something. After he saw a bunch of demons murder a village in Namibia, which was followed up by a bunch of angels murdering the demons and that fight triggering a landslide, he decided that instead of trying to kill everything or take everything over, maybe closing all the doors between realities would be a better way. A peaceful way at keeping peace.”

  “And like all good ideas, some of the fuckers he brought into his plans expanded on them and decided that the war’s still going and they needed to make gate guards,” Uriel guessed.

  “Exactly so.” Raziel shook his head. “The Taytton family line seems to be extinct now. The younger brother died of a heart attack five years ago. Bob’s own wife killed herself when the war began, and he had two illegitimate kids, apparently. They died in the war. The elders, the parents of Bob, had all died some years before the war of natural causes. There are no more Tayttons left.”

  “Thank God for small mercies,” Uriel said, without the least trace of irony in his voice.

  Raziel smiled at that. “Indeed. Anyway, after the younger brother died, Transom Corp., as it was then, began to increase its work, speed up production and experiments, that sort of thing. Then our kids stumbled onto the remains of their lair in Yaak, and they realized that now we, the Archangels, know, and so do the Archdemons, which means that God and Lucifer know, which means that things are going to get pretty violent, so they sped up their plans.” />
  “Did they always have this coven working with them?” Uriel asked.

  “I think so. Or rather, from the last decade of the war, yes.” Raziel leaned forward and scrolled through the file he’d been reading. “Ah, here we go. Yes, the coven was hired after a witch from Spain—no name given—contacted them and said the goals of Transom and her coven were identical, so they became allies. I would like to know more about this coven. More than just their names and nationalities.”

  “What about what Minnie said, about their magic being synthetic?”

  “I can’t conceive how that works,” Raziel admitted. “Everything comes from life. Even our powers and those of Hell. Hell is full of life, as much as some would refuse to admit that. But there is life. Souls are life, after all, and Lucifer is very much alive, as are his Archdemons.”

  “And Lilith,” Uriel said.

  Raziel smiled. “And Lilith,” he agreed.

  “Could it be that maybe these witches used the natural world and then manipulated their own abilities with chemistry or something to make something alien?”

  “I don’t know,” Raziel said. “I would say not, as chemistry itself comes from the world and utilizes what’s available to us, to make something new or examine something already existing.”

  “Ah, there.” Uriel jabbed his index finger at Raziel. “Back it up. You said that chemistry can make something new. What if, right, between the scientists of Transom and the coven, they found a way to make their magic something entirely new and synthetic by using science?”

  Raziel blinked several times. “Uri, you’re a genius. I love you!” He grabbed Uriel’s face between his hands and kissed him soundly. “Come on,” Raziel said, letting Uriel go and getting to his feet, “we have work to do.”

  “Where are we going now?” Uriel asked as he stood up.

  “To CERN.”

  “What the hell’s cern?” Uriel had missed the emphasis that Raziel placed on the name.

  “European Organization for Nuclear Research, although they do much more than that, these days.” Raziel was marching toward the doors of the boardroom. “Are you going to be pissed if I get Ondrass and Adramelek to come with us?”