Shock flashed over Uriel’s face. “Metatron.”
The newcomer ignored him. Instead, he turned to Yael. “Grandson.”
“They want to take Rowan and kill her.”
“She is an abomination,” Michael said coldly. “The Heart belongs here. She should not have stolen it.”
But Metatron appeared thoughtful. One by one, more archangels appeared in the room, teleporting in. Aurora, Gabriel, Raphael, Nanael, Enlil and others besides. Their presence brought a wave of power, and it was all Yael could do to stay upright. His mother dropped to her knees, unable to take the onslaught. Rowan stood tall, shoulder still in Michael’s grip.
“Why did you bring them here?” Uriel demanded.
“Heaven’s Heart was broken at the dawn of creation, one part to be worn by an angel, one by a demon, and one by God’s children. She has a right to wear the Heart, if it is the Heart meant for the latter. We should all bear witness to this event.”
“She stole it,” Michael snapped.
Metatron approached Michael, indicating he should step aside. He did so, reluctance visible in every line of his body. Metatron placed a hand on Rowan’s shoulders and breathed deeply. “She has the right Heart. It chose her. It is done.”
Michael stepped forward. “But she’s a conduit—”
Bells tolled, and a new presence appeared. What’s with all the bells? They seemed to sound whenever a Hell-lord appeared in a new realm. “Well, isn’t this nice. A reunion.”
Lucifer.
What the fuck?
Grandfather…
Metatron ignored him, focused on the Hell-lord, as were all the other archangels.
“Why are you here, Lucifer?” Nanael demanded, her tone haughty and cruel.
The Hell-lord smirked, arrogance seeping from him. “You have something of mine.”
“You were banned from ever setting foot in Heaven again!” Enlil shouted, hot-tempered. “Begone!”
“I will leave, as soon as I take my property with me.” Lucifer pointed at Rowan.
“No!” Rowan protested. “I am not yours! I am not anyone’s. Let me go!”
Yael wanted to grab her, pull her close to him, but he couldn’t. Not yet, anyway. It would be an insult to his grandfather, if he did it now.
So, this is why Lucifer didn’t have extra guards posted. He had a backup plan.
“You are, you signed a contract.” A piece of paper appeared in Lucifer’s hands.
Contract?
“Show me.” Metatron held out a palm. Smugly, Lucifer passed it over. Yael could almost see him thinking checkmate.
“It is an employment contract.” Metatron said, voice cool and calm. “It states that one Rowan Broome agrees to be your employee until you terminate the contract.”
“That’s not what I agreed to,” Rowan said, moving a little closer to Yael.
Lucifer tilted his head. “It was in the fine print.”
From Rowan’s face, it hadn’t been in the fine print of the copy she’d received.
Nanael stepped forward. “Let me see.” Metatron handed her the document. The archangel scanned it and passed it back, with a raised eyebrow. “It’s invalid.”
“Invalid?” Lucifer demanded, face darkening. “Don’t bother lying to me. I was one of you, remember?”
“This contract is designed for use by Hell-lords with humans only,” Nanael chided. “It is in the approved template in accordance with Code four-three-three in the Temptation Codex. Rowan is not human, and so the deal is void.”
“Not human?” Lucifer wheeled on Yael. “What did you do to her—?”
Nanael tsked. “She is the wearer of Heaven’s Heart. It has fundamentally changed her. She is immortal, and therefore, cannot be human.”
“What?” Lucifer’s shadow wings burst from his back, smoke horns crowning his temple as lightning danced over his flesh. Then he calmed. “But she was human at the time the contract was signed. So she must abide by it.”
“If you can produce the human,” Nanael said. “You can take her.”
Lucifer’s expression turned crafty, the lightning fading away.
“You may not remove the Heart. It is forbidden for any angel—fallen or not—to kill the Heart’s true host. A rule some people need to remember.” Nanael glared meaningfully at Michael, then Lucifer.
With a curse, the Hell-lord vanished.
But his voice pierced through Yael’s mind. This isn’t over.
No, things were only just beginning.
Chapter 52
One by one, the archangels left the cloud room. I’m standing in a cloud. It didn’t feel real, none of it did. But here Rowan was, in front of an archangel even she’d heard about: Metatron, God’s personal scribe.
Eventually, only Yael, she, Metatron, and the female archangel who’d schooled Lucifer on contract law remained. The female archangel was barely five feet tall, with russet-red hair, and eyes of dark brown. She was kind of terrifying.
“Lucifer is up to something,” Nanael murmured. “He wants to alter the balance of power.”
“Yes.” Metatron nodded, stroking his chin. “He has never accepted his fate.”
“I will go and discuss this further.” Nanael turned to them. “Say hello to my brother and his mate.” Then she too, disappeared.
“Brother?” Rowan asked.
Yael sighed, a long-suffering expression. “Trick. And Seraphina is his mate.”
She brightened. “They got together?”
“They did.”
Metatron placed a hand on Yael’s shoulder. “Grandson, it was good you called to me.”
“I didn’t know if you’d come, but I couldn’t let them hurt Rowan. And you have always been the voice of reason.”
“My voice has been silent for too long, I fear.” The gray-haired angel was handsome, with the faintest of lines forking out from the corner of his eyes. But he was sad, deep down inside, she could sense it.
Yael’s grandfather is the scribe of God?
She suddenly needed to sit down. Or have a glass of wine. Probably both.
It was only through sheer willpower she remained upright. She was going to have to get used to these things. Angels, archangels, Hell, Heaven, witches, magic, gods.
Metatron winced and tapped his temple. “Your mother has been quite vociferous in her disapproval of my interference. And I must apologize. She did not want me to be around you as a child, because she said I was a bad influence. But now I see she only kept me away because they were jealous. They did not like that you enjoyed spending time with me more than with them. I am sorry I was not there to save you from their selfishness. But I fell into deep meditation, and when I resurfaced, you were an adult, calling for my help.”
“They told me you no longer wanted to see me because I was such a failure.”
Metatron’s eyes darkened. “There will be a reckoning, do not fear. And your wings—”
“They are gone.” But Yael didn’t seem angry this time, more accepting. She pressed her shoulder against him in silent support.
“Are they?” Metatron‘s mouth turned up in a secretive smile. He turned to Rowan. “As the wearer of Heaven’s Heart, you are now immortal, provided you don’t get decapitated or lose the Heart. Guard it well.”
“But, where is it?” Rowan asked, bewildered. Everyone said she had it…but how could she lose it if she didn’t know where it was?
Metatron waved a hand over Rowan’s neck, and a heavy weight suddenly rested against her sternum. “What—?”
She looked down. The rough-cut rose quartz she’d found in the entrance to the tomb rested against her chest. The archangel waved his hand again, and it vanished, but she could feel an echo of the weight that had briefly rested against her skin.
“It is not designed to be worn. The Heart will become part of you, fused with the very essence of your soul. The bond is new, and fragile, so you must guard it.”
<
br /> She frowned. “But if this makes me immortal, then how come Twosret died?”
“The last wearer of the Heart was murdered, and demons tried to steal the stone for themselves. But they could never have worn it, never bonded with it. And the Heart chooses its mate. Humans hid both Twosret and the Heart from angels and demons both.”
“But what does it do?” Yael asked, taking her free hand in his.
“It depends on the individual. You are a conduit, so who knows. You may become a great and powerful witch.”
“But I can’t do magic, I can just channel it.”
“You couldn’t do magic. Now you may be able to.” Metatron smiled, and it was so radiant her breath caught in her throat. “Now, here is my gift to you. I have spoken with the other archangels and we agree, you need a protector, so people like Lucifer can’t abduct you and try to tip the balance of power in the universe. It is the only way they will agree to let you leave here.”
“A protector? Wait, what happens to other conduits?” She had the feeling it was nothing good.
“It depends on the power of the conduit. But you are strong, and Lucifer has already tried to use you. Some of the archangels would have ruled for your death, others, clemency. But many hold Michael’s views.”
Rowan bit her lip. So, if she hadn’t found the Heart…she’d be dead. Killed by Yael’s kind.
Aren’t angels meant to be the good guys?
“However, the archangels have ruled that you need a protector, one who will put your safety first above all others. But they must be an angel.”
“And I can choose?”
“This is my gift to you.”
She felt Yael tense beside her. “Will they have to be a Heavenly angel, or can they be fallen?”
“The others have decreed it must be a Heavenly angel.”
“What is the exact phrase they used?” Rowan asked, mind spinning through the possibilities.
“That you must be guarded by one who will put your safety above all others, and who is a member of the Heavenly court of angels. No fallen.”
“I am sure they have a list of recommendations?”
Metatron’s brown eyes grew amused. “They do.”
“Then I pick Yael.”
He jerked. “What?”
Rowan waved an arm at the archangel. “Make him winged again, or unfallen, or whatever it is.”
“But I was given a task—” Yael started.
“Yes, you were. But this is more important. Very important.” Metatron smiled kindly. “Your parents always thought you were destined for greatness, because I saw you would one day guard the Heart. They thought you would captain the Darts. But that is not what I saw. You were born to do this. Surely you felt the bond the moment you two first touched? Yes? And your powers have increased since you’ve been together, even though you lost your wings?”
Yael nodded, speechless for the first time since she’d met him.
Metatron touched Yael on the shoulder, and the angel buckled in agony. “I’d turn away if I was you,” the archangel said to her gently, as if she wasn’t strong enough for whatever would happen next.
The old Rowan wouldn’t have been. But the new Rowan, she watched as bony appendages burst forth from Yael’s back, bloody and raw. Watched as they extended, hardened, and as feathers grew, covering his wings until two snowy white wings adorned his back. Watched as he gritted his teeth through the pain, stronger than anyone she knew.
He’s whole again.
Funny, how the wings looked right.
Yael was breathing heavily as he glanced over his shoulder, eyes widening in joy at the sight. “They’re white.”
Metatron dipped his head to the side. “You are her protector. You’re no longer a soldier.”
“I am welcome back in Heaven?”
His grandfather nodded.
Yael let out a whoop and grabbed Rowan, spinning her round and round while laughing. “You did it!”
She smiled, delighted to see him happy. “We did it.”
Chapter 53
Rowan had moved into the mansion with him. Yael may be welcome back in Heaven, but he wanted to live with Rowan in the Human Realm, let her continue her passions, live her life as she saw fit.
After all, they would eventually have plenty of time to live in Heaven, but her family and loved ones only had one lifetime to spend with her. Not that they’d spoken about that yet, but that was immortality for you.
At times, it sucked.
But right now, now Yael waited outside Cat on a Broomstick while Rowan met with her family. She’d wanted to go in alone. A few days ago, he would have thought it was because she was ashamed to be seen with him, but now he knew it was because she needed to do it on her own. To prove she could. She needed to take charge of her life, not have someone run it. And Yael, who’d only ever wanted the freedom to swim in his own lane, could totally understand that.
It had nothing to do with him.
“So, when’s the party happening?” Dru asked.
Yael started, and gritted his teeth. “How do you keep doing that?” He scoped the alley and still couldn’t work out how she’d snuck up on him.
“It’s a secret.”
“Of course, it is.”
Azrael appeared behind her, grinning. “We heard there was going to be a celebration.”
Yael threw his hands up. “I have no idea. I’m just waiting here.”
“I heard about it from Seraphina,” Raze said, his deep voice added to the mix.
As if called, Seraphina appeared in the alley next to Azrael. “And I got it from Trick.”
Trick strode into view, and wrapped his arms around Seraphina’s middle, nuzzling at her neck. “And I made it up.”
Typical.
The alley behind the Cat on a Broomstick suddenly felt very full. Everyone who meant something to him was here—aside from Metatron. And his adopted family was impressive: Azrael, Seraphina, Raze and Z. Plus, Dru and Trick, although he couldn’t say his in-laws excited him.
I’d take Dru over Trick any day.
He’d never tell anyone that, except maybe Rowan.
“Nice wings,” Trick said, eyebrow arching.
“Fuck off.” Yael flipped him the bird.
“Hey! That’s my line!” Dru glared at him.
The back door to the shop opened, and Rowan poked her head out, scowling when she spotted them all lurking there. “What are you all doing out here?”
“We’ve come for the party,” Trick said, holding up a six pack of beer that hadn’t been in his hand a moment ago.
“Party?”
“Move aside.” Dora’s cane shoved at Rowan until she stepped away. The Crone then stood on the stoop, surveying them with narrowed eyes. “Well, come inside then. We’ll use the upstairs space.”
“Upstairs?” Rowan’s mouth opened in surprise. “We never use upstairs.”
“And we don’t normally host parties at the shop. Go! Now!”
They complied, some of the most powerful people in Hell filing through the door like obedient children. Z was careful to keep his wings tucked close to his body, and Trick made some smartass quip on his way past.
The stench of ozone filled the air, and two new figures appeared.
Yael gulped.
Hades held two bottles of whiskey, and Asha wore a cocktail dress that looked like a piñata had vomited confetti all over her. “We heard there was a party,” Asha said.
Dora glared. “It’s bad enough there’s an archangel, a Mortus cambion, and the mate of the Mortus Queen. Now you two want in?”
“What? I love parties!” Asha gave a little jump then rushed past them, into the shop.
Hades followed more sedately. The god’s hair was braided into a complicated style, exposing the side of his shaved head. “Trying to stop Asha is just going to give me a migraine. And I don’t get headaches.”
He disappeared inside t
he shop.
Then it was just Rowan, Yael and Dora.
The old woman smirked and patted him on the cheek, hard. “I told you you’d be my grandson-in-law.” Then she thumped off toward the staircase, shouting instructions at the partygoers.
“Grandson-in-law?” Rowan murmured, smiling at him.
“Yeah. She knows everything. Blah blah.” He closed the distance to Rowan, shutting the door behind him with a decisive click.
“Blah blah?”
“Yeah. You know. We’ll get married, live happily ever after, all that shit.”
She kissed him, sweet and soft, and the taste of home.
“And all that shit.”
Epilogue
Hades’ Fortress, Tartarus
Asha Himm, demigoddess extraordinaire, Personal Assistant to Hades, King of Hell, may have had a little bit too much to drink the night before. A Cock-sucking Cowboy, ten mojitos, twelve shots of tequila, and a keg of Djinn spiced mead that Hades had teleported in, had been overkill. She should have refused the Cowboy.
But she couldn’t resist a party. And she liked Rowan; the human had spunk. Guts. Cojones. Celebrating her and Yael’s freedom had been worth it. Plus, she’d liked dancing with the quiet dark-skinned fallen angel, Raze. His stormy gaze had burned through her clothing, stroking over her skin like a psychic touch.
Worth it.
Taking a sip of green tea, she let the warm toasty aroma fill her senses. Then she shuffled the papers on her desk for effect, rather than purpose. Her office was neat and pristine in its orderliness; she had bookshelves filled with the bare necessities to do her job. Unlike her boss, whose office was crammed so full of extraneous crap it gave her hives just staring at it.
A large iMac took up valuable space on her desk, but she loved computers. She even had a machine that ran Windows, tucked away under her desk. Hades said she was fucked up because of it, but she didn’t care. Like his sense of interior design was any better. He kept a statue of a cursed gargoyle in the corner of his office.
She met the piercing blue gaze of the black-winged agent who sat opposite her.
“Your name is Dina, right?” Asha asked, sensing the impatience building in the angel.
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