by C. L. Coffey
“So what were you doing in Phoenix? Or Las Vegas?” I demanded, hurrying after him over the cobblestones. “Hunting nephilim?”
A group of tourists gave us a funny look, and Gabriel glanced over at me. “How about we head inside and have this conversation in private.”
“In there?” I pointed at the Basilica.
Gabriel nodded.
“Why are we heading to the exit? The place looks like it’s closed anyway. They’re not letting anyone in.”
“I’m not anyone,” Gabriel assured me, never breaking his stride.
I followed him, dubiously, but was surprised when we turned off by the exit and headed towards another doorway I hadn’t seen. Outside standing guard was a man in the most colorful uniform I had ever seen.
It was mainly blue and orange stripes with red cuffs and looked more like a costume I would expect to see worn on a king’s joker than someone who was protecting one of the most important buildings in the country.
The guard recognized Gabriel and bowed before he stepped back to let us pass. I didn’t miss the fact that his hand remained on his sword as he watched me like I was going to cause trouble.
As we neared the door, it opened for us, with another guard on the other side. This one, dressed just like the other, bowed his head too, closing the door after us. I followed Gabriel through corridor after corridor, perfecting my impression of a fish as I stared open-mouthed at everything we passed.
The place was magnificent. The floors, patterned marble, the walls and ceilings, covered in murals depicting angels and demons—scenes from the bible and epic battles. Moldings covered in gold were surrounded by centuries-old works of art.
“Holy shit.” I covered my mouth temporarily as my cursing echoed down the hallway.
Gabriel frowned back at me, suddenly seeming surprised that I was dawdling behind him, staring at everything around me.
“Sorry, it’s just, I barely knew this place existed. It’s incredible. Do you really live here?”
Gabriel slowed, matching my pace, and nodded. “The Vatican will always be my home, but for now, I need to spend my time in America.”
“Do all the people here know what you are?”
“Most of the people here are angels,” Gabriel explained.
“You mean those guys in costumes were angels?” I glanced back over my shoulder. The hallway we walked down was long, and the guard looked far away already. Despite this, I could tell he was still watching me.
“That costume is the uniform of the Swiss Guard,” Gabriel informed me. “And no, they are not angels, they are saints.”
I stopped walking and stared in amazement at Gabriel. “What?” I demanded. “Like the dean? How many patron saints are there?”
Gabriel sighed patiently. “They are low level saints, not patron saints.” He carried on walking, and I hurried to catch him up. Suddenly, the hallway wasn’t the most interesting thing to me. “Patron saints are saints who have earned that higher ranking, and most often, it has involved that very thing they are the patron of. Take Ursula, for example.”
I knew Dean Pinnosa was a saint, but there were certainly times when I questioned how that woman had ever earned a sainthood.
“She is the Patron Saint of Students.” Gabriel looked at me, amused. “You thought she was joking when she said she was sixteen hundred years old?”
“How did she become a saint? How the hell did she become the Patron Saint of Students? And how the hell did she end up as a dean at one of the most exclusive colleges in the U.S.?”
Gabriel stopped suddenly. “Kennedy.” His voice was far too calm. “You are in one of the holiest places in the world, not to mention, my home. I would appreciate it if you would show my home the respect it deserves.”
I flushed. “Sorry.”
“You think it strange that the Patron Saint of Students would be a running a college?”
“No, just that she would be for Greenwood Prep.” I shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I would expect her to be teaching the needy, more than the spoiled. Or a whole bunch of nephilim.”
“Ursula is there for a reason,” Gabriel said. “It is not ours to question what that reason may be.”
“I guess.” I shrugged again. “What about the nuns? Are they saints too?”
“Nuns are nuns and priests are priests,” Gabriel told me. “We don’t have long before we need to be back at Greenwood. I will answer your questions another time”
I guess that meant there would be no opportunity to go sightseeing.
We finally made it to the end of the corridor and into an entrance hall with a stairway putting the one at the college to shame. Like the previous hallway, there was gold leaf, beautiful marble floors, and more murals and tapestries. This room held furniture and appeared lived in.
“This is the residential area,” Gabriel explained as I took in the room with wide eyes.
This place reminded me of a museum, not somewhere you’d go at the end of the day and kick off your shoes to relax. Beautiful as it was, I felt too scared to touch anything in case I broke it. I doubted there would be anything I could afford to replace.
But as I glanced at Gabriel, I realized he seemed completely at home here. There was something about how he moved around the building with familiarity and ease.
In that moment, I realized the man—archangel—in front of me had jumped so far out of my league that it didn’t even matter that I liked him. No wonder he didn’t like me.
Gabriel moved to a double door, holding it open.
Stepping inside, the incredible living room was the size of a classroom. There was an unlit fire in the center of a wall, and the fireplace was as big as me.
It was like we’d stepped into a room in a palace rather than a church.
Gabriel settled down into an armchair by the fire and gestured to the chair opposite him.
The thing looked like an antique. Afraid to sit, I was terrified I would damage it.
“It’s four hundred years old,” Gabriel announced, a small smile on his face, making me jump. I hadn’t realized how long I’d been staring at it. “It has survived this long, it will survive you sitting on it,” he added, somehow sensing my unease.
I carefully perched on the edge. “I don’t get it.”
“Get what?”
“This.” I waved my arms at the room we were sitting in.
“You think it odd that there would be angels in the Vatican City?” Gabriel’s head cocked slightly.
“No,” I assured him. “That’s the part which makes sense to me. What I don’t get is why you would leave. If there are archangels around the world, and this is probably one of the holiest places there is, why would you leave?”
“The fact that it’s one of the holiest places in the world is why I can leave,” Gabriel responded. “It is guarded by humans and saints, and angels reside here too. My House recognizes that I have other work to do.”
Trying not to laugh, I snorted. “You mean, being a gym teacher?”
“Even being a gym teacher.” Gabriel nodded. “Though that is only part of it.”
I didn’t say what the other part was. He’d been hunting nephilim. That’s how he found me. And now he was teaching them.
There was something amusingly ironic about that.
Before the smile could fully spread across my lips, the door opened, and a man walked in. Considering we had come all the way to the Vatican City, I had been expecting Gabriel’s friend to be the pope.
The man who walked in was much younger. Older than Gabriel, but definitely nowhere near pope age. He was dressed in a suit, but I was almost happy to see that it had wrinkles in it.
Giving Gabriel a wide smile which reached his eyes, and then gently bobbing his head, he greeted the archangel in Italian.
“And I, you,” Gabriel said. “But if you wouldn’t mind speaking in English as my friend here doesn’t speak Italian?”
“Of course,” the man agreed, turning to me. “Good
afternoon, bella. Forgive my manners. I incorrectly assumed you spoke our language. My name is David.”
“Hi, I’m Kennedy.”
David gave me another pleasant smile before turning back to Gabriel. “What brings you back home?”
“Information,” Gabriel replied, indicating David should join us. “I’m in search of it.”
David moved over to one of the armchairs and sat, crossing his legs. “I can certainly try.”
“It is a sensitive question.” Gabriel continued after mulling his words over. “There is a situation I cannot tell you about, nor can what I ask you leave this room.”
“I swear to God,” David said.
That was a slightly different variation of ‘I understand’ than I was expecting.
“What do you know of the Watchers?”
Instead of answering, David uncrossed his legs and rested his elbows on the arms of the chair. “Ah.”
Gabriel cocked his head, his eyes widening. “You know something.”
“Of course I know something. I’m the Head Archivist and Librarian of the Archivio Apostolico Vaticano.”
“They’re real then?” I asked.
“The Vatican Archives or the Watchers?” David looked at me.
I shrugged. “Both, I guess.”
“The archives are very much real. The Vatican Library is a treasure trove of the Church’s books, papers, and other artefacts accumulated over the centuries. The Watchers?” He glanced at Gabriel, who nodded. “There is evidence to say they once existed.”
“Once?”
David’s fingers tapped on the armchair. “There are several texts referring to the Watchers as a covert group of angels who came to earth to watch over the human race. Some of these texts explain the existence of nephilim through them; angels who lusted after humans and procreated with them.”
Gabriel frowned. “You don’t think this is accurate.”
“A long time ago, when I was stationed in Dublin at Raphael’s House, I happened upon a cherub who told me a story. There are two types of nephilim: the one we all know of. The offspring of the Fallen. The other, descendants of an angel who was granted permission by God himself to have a child. The Watchers are descendants of that angel, that child. They are the covert group that went into hiding among the humans to protect them.”
Gabriel’s green eyes looked up to meet mine. His stare was intense, as though trying to see through me. Or in me.
“You, uh, believe the story of this one cherub over the books in your vaults?” I asked David, trying to divert Gabriel’s attention back to the old guy.
“What are books, but stories passed down?” he asked me. “But this cherub said she had seen this child. It was raised in secrecy and when he became an adult, he left the House to become the first Watcher.”
I glanced back at Gabriel and found him still staring at me.
Chapter Eight
“You think I’m a descendant of this angel?” I shook my head in denial. “I’ve already got enough going on. You’re not throwing that title at me. Plus, I’m not going to burn the college down.”
“It would explain—”
“Before you share more information with me than you intend, you should know that Watchers are male.” David interrupted. “Each Watcher had male sons. The few females in the bloodline barely survived past childhood. Those that did survive didn’t inherit the angelic qualities. They were ordinary humans.”
I gave Gabriel my best ‘I told you so’ look. Being a nephilim and a potential was enough special sauce for me.
Gabriel turned back to David and nodded. “Do you know where that cherub is now?”
“Most of the cherubim went rogue after the events in New Orleans. I know she left that House too, but I don’t know where she is now. I’m sorry.”
With a smile, Gabriel stood. As he did, so did David. “It’s time for us to head back. Thank you, my friend.” He clapped his hand on the man’s shoulder before walking over to me, offering me his hand.
I took it, thinking he was helping me out of the seat, but then we were back in the gymnasium. As my feet hit the varnished floor, I slid straight into him.
Gabriel’s arms wrapped around me, keeping me upright.
Mixed in with his distinctly masculine scent was that underlying hint of oregano. It was the strangest thing, but there was something so comforting about it. Like underneath all the tough warrior was a bit of home. Just like the feeling of his arms around me.
Inhaling a deep breath, I allowed myself exactly three seconds of enjoying that moment before I pushed myself away. “I can’t believe you thought I was one of those Watcher things,” I muttered, relieved my cheeks didn’t feel like they were melting off my face.
“A nephilim potential?” Gabriel moved a few paces back and rubbed a hand over his chin. “If a Watcher is the result of an angel gaining permission for a child, I thought that was a logical explanation.”
“You heard what David said. Watchers aren’t female and . . .” My hands went to my breasts. “Yep, definitely female. Although with this small cleavage, I can see how it would be easy to think otherwise. So, no. No Watcher blood here.”
Gabriel tilted his head, looking up at a spot in the ceiling. As I glanced up to see what he was looking at, he turned back to me. “It is time for breakfast. You change and get something to eat. You’ll need the energy for gym later. Which you will be participating in.”
“Badminton?”
“Something a little different.” A small smirk appeared on his face.
I eyed him suspiciously. It better not be dodgeball. “I’ll see you later,” I muttered as I started towards the door.
“Kennedy?”
Stopping, I looked back over my shoulder.
“For the record, I am aware that having breasts doesn’t automatically make you female, but I’ve never seen you as anything otherwise. And what you do have is quite pleasing.
Turning, I stared at his retreating back, speechless. Clearly, he had been checking me out, and apparently, he liked what he saw. But why was he telling me this? It wasn’t fair.
The irritation only ebbed as I finally sat down for breakfast.
Everyone who was returning to the college was supposed to be back, but I’d never seen the cafeteria look so empty.
With a plate piled high with pancakes and bacon, I sat down next to Leigh-Ann and Harrison. He was busy devouring a plate of corn grits and sausage patties, whereas Leigh-Ann’s toast remained untouched as she tapped away on her phone.
“Where’s your cousin?” I asked them.
“Cash is calling his dad,” Harrison told me.
“Harrison and Cash are roommates this semester.” Leigh-Ann didn’t look up from her phone.
“My roommate transferred out of here.” Harrison added.
“So did a lot of students.” I looked around the room again. “Where’s Ty?”
“Yeah, where’s Ty, Leia?” Harrison added.
I wasn’t the only one to notice that.
Leigh-Ann finally looked up from her phone, her cheeks turning pink. “He’s got an early shift this morning. He’d talked to the dean to swap some around so he can get to certain lessons.”
“He didn’t seem to care which ones he attended last semester,” I muttered.
“Ty had already done two years of undergrad when he transferred here. He doesn’t need all the credits, especially when the dean insisted that he complete his freshman year with us.” Leigh-Ann folded her arms and stared at the two of us like we were picking on the two of them.
Maybe I was digging at Ty a little, but still. At least the defensiveness was kind of cute.
“If I was in his Ted Bakers, I’d get all my remaining credits as quickly as possible and get out of here.” Lottie’s voice rung out behind me. “Mainly because I would be hiding my head in shame because I was redoing credits I didn’t need to.”
“Couldn’t you just do that anyway?” I asked.
Leigh-An
n spoke up before Lottie could comment. “Actually, he’s now going to do a class a semester because he wants to graduate with me.”
I had to fight not to let my mouth drop open as I turned to look at my best friend. First, I was impressed she was talking back to Lottie, but mainly because that was the most un-Ty-like thing I’d ever heard.
When Lottie didn’t deliver an evil comment like I was expecting, I turned back, finding her gaze locked with Harrison’s. His was almost taunting her to say something, whereas she looked . . . sad.
Without saying another word, Lottie carried on walking past our table. “That was odd,” I muttered. When no one agreed, I found Leigh-Ann staring at Harrison.
Harrison shrugged. “She still likes me, but I told her that I could never be with someone who is a dick to my sister.”
Annoying as it was that it took him this long to figure that out, I was glad he finally had.
“I should go find Cash,” Harrison declared, getting to his feet. “Laters.”
“At least Harrison has a new friend.”
Leigh-Ann picked up her phone, shrugging as she did. “Those two have been inseparable all break. Cash and Uncle Trent turned up the day after we got back and the three of them were in my dad’s study for most of the time.”
“Is that weird, or not?” I asked, unsure where she was leading with that.
“I think Uncle Trent wants Cash to go into politics like my dad. I don’t care. It all bores me.” Tapping out her message, she finally set the phone down and turned to me. “Where were you so early this morning?”
Glancing around to make sure no one was in earshot, I leaned in. “Rome.”
“Rome?” Leigh-Ann repeated in a very loud squeak.
I winced. So much for discreet.
“Technically it was the Vatican City: Gabriel’s home,” I said in a hushed whisper as I frowned at her.
A dreamy expression settled over Leigh-Ann. “Rome is so romantic. Did he walk you around the Sistine Chapel? Or along the Tiber? What about the Panthe—”