by Kyoko M
The aforementioned Seer strolled up behind him with a cig at the corner of her lips, beaming like the sun in July. “Welcome back. How was the weather down there?”
I shook my head. “Nice to see you too, Myra.”
She winked at me and then turned her gaze on my husband. “Thank you for bringing her back in one piece…Michael.”
His eyes widened and then a soft look of affection spread across his face. “You’re welcome.”
She glanced at Gabriel and said nothing. Then she tossed her cigarette down, caught him by the tie, and kissed the living daylights out of him. I couldn’t help it. I gaped. Gabriel went stiff in shock at first, but then his arms crept around her waist and he melted right into it. It lasted for what looked like a yummy six or seven seconds and then she pulled away with a foxy smile of pure mischief.
“Welcome back, Gabriel. You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do that.”
He cleared his throat and dropped his hands once he noticed what he’d unconsciously done with them. “Indeed.”
She let his tie slip through her fingers and placed a hand on her hip. “So. We done here?”
I wrapped my fingers around Michael and Gabriel’s hands. They were warm and sweaty and strong. It felt good.
“Yeah. We’re done.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
JORDAN
We brought Gabriel back to the safe house to get him some rest and called in Raphael to look the three of us over. I had to admit that the expression on the bishop’s face after seeing the archangel alive was worth the trip. He practically tripped over himself inviting us back in and fully absolved Avriel of any wrongdoing when he realized our crazy suicide mission was a success.
Naturally, they put Gabriel in the nicest room in the entire complex—the one reserved for the bishop’s personal guests. It had to be eighty square feet and would have been at home in a Four Seasons. The room had no walls to separate the dining area from the bedroom and the entertainment center. It was all open and inviting. There was a full sized refrigerator against the left wall alongside the kitchenette. I got the impression one could live here long term with plenty of comfort.
“How is he?”
“Hurt,” the archangel Raphael said. That one word held so much regret that I touched his arm in comfort. “His soul has managed to withstand horrors it shouldn’t have. A lesser angel would have been broken, but he is stronger than we predicted. However, I believe that he is going to experience some very intense episodes of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.”
“How intense?”
Raphael sighed, staring at the bathroom door forlornly. He had spent a good half hour examining each one of us, saving Gabriel for last because he had spent the most time in Hell, and suffered the most damage. The archangel had been quiet during the ride here and he slipped into the bathroom without a word after Raphael was done examining him. “It might start with daydreams and waking nightmares. He’ll need to be monitored closely for the first few months to ensure that he knows the difference between reality and what he saw in Hell. You mentioned that Mulciber made visions of us and killed them in front of him, right?”
“Yes.”
“It will take all of his faith to remember that he did in fact leave the underworld behind. It will follow him like his own shadow.”
I rubbed my arms. Raphael touched my shoulder. “Jordan, you got there as soon as you could. Do not blame yourself for this. He wouldn’t want you to do that.”
“I know. I just…wish there was more I could do for him.”
He gave me a look as if I were hopeless. “You walked into Hell and dragged him out. I believe there is no greater sacrifice for a friend.”
“You sweet talker, you. What do we do for now?”
“Give him some time to adjust. The healing process is going to be quite extensive, as it will be for you and Michael as well. I’ll return shortly to start the first session. However, if anything happens, call me and I’ll come running.”
“I will. Thank you.” I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. He held me close, kissing the crown of my head.
“No…thank you. Truly. I only wish I could have gone with you.”
I smiled after pulling away. “Mentiroso.”
He matched my tired smile. “I’ll see you in a bit. Take care.”
After he left, I paced the length of the Queen-sized bed, waiting for Gabriel. Michael and company had gone to recount our journey to the bishop and his men.
I checked my watch. Gabriel had been in the shower for more than an hour now. Worry trickled its way down my spine.
I ventured towards the door and knocked. “Gabriel?”
Nothing but the rushing water. “Can I come in?”
Still no response. Shit.
I tried the doorknob and it wasn’t locked. Deep breath. You can do this, Amador.
The steam from the shower washed over me when I stepped into the bathroom. Here, it was just as elegant—silver faucets in the shape of doves, pearly counters and floors, and a mammoth tub with those fancy spouts that have massage settings.
Gabriel wasn’t naked and curled up on the floor of the shower, to my relief. He wasn’t in the shower at all, actually. He sat on the rim of the tub in a fluffy white robe. The ends of his golden hair dripped droplets onto the blue bathmat. His large hands were clasped and resting on his knees. He didn’t say anything as I approached.
I didn’t know what to do at first. He was hurting in ways I could never begin to understand. Based on what Michael calculated, he’d been in Hell the equivalent of a month. Raphael was right. Anyone but him would have crumbled into insanity.
“Hey,” I said, pulling an extra towel from the rack. “You’re gonna catch a cold if you don’t dry it.”
I draped towel over his bent head and began drying his hair in slow, careful movements. He didn’t stop me.
“They didn’t roll out the penthouse for me, y’know. I keep waiting for the day when I’m important enough for the fancy room with the chocolates on the pillow, the butler who I get to call Alfred even though that’s not his name, and the caviar sundae bar. I grew up in the ‘hood. Half the time, I thought it only existed in movies.”
Once most of the water had been absorbed, I settled the towel around his shoulders and searched through the cabinet for a brush. Not that I knew a whole lot about caring for his delicate hair since mine was so thick, but I got the general idea. I brushed it from end to end, occasionally sifting my fingers through to make sure I got the moisture out.
“My aunt used to tell people I was Nigerian because I grew up in a neighborhood of Hispanic and Latin kids, so I was sometimes the only dark-skinned girl around. They made up stories about me. They called me ‘Princess’ and the older kids used to ask when Prince Hakeem was going to come marry me. Never got that reference until I was older. After a while, I started wondering what if they were right and I was some long lost Queen that Disney had forgotten to write about. When I was about seven, I had my own made-up kingdom full of loyal stuffed animal subjects. Not my stuffed animals, mind you, my cousin Ana’s. Aunt Carmen never bought me anything, so I had to use Ana’s when she wasn’t around. Anyway, my royal advisor was a kangaroo, my council of elders was a handful of Beanie Babies, my court jester was a baboon, and my betrothed was an elephant. We were constantly in trouble with the Cabbage Patch Nation, but I always managed to keep things from breaking out into a war. Good thing, too. Nothing worse than trying to clean up fake animal fur and white fluff.”
Gabriel reached out and gripped my left wrist. I fell silent. He didn’t squeeze or try to hurt me. Instead, he tugged me down next to him and stretched out onto his side enough to lay his head on my lap. He closed his eyes and sighed once. I understood immediately. I put the brush aside and threaded my fingers through his hair as I continued telling him the story of my stuffed animal kingdom.
I couldn’t recall how long we stayed there—just that by the time Raphael knocked on the door, the
vapor was gone and the shower water running behind us was ice cold.
“Just a second!” I called to him, glancing at Gabriel. He breathed in deep intervals, but he wasn’t quite asleep. He’d found a safe place, at the very least.
I rested my hand on his ear and tugged it playfully. “Hey, you big lug. Raph is here to have a look at you.”
He sat up. I stood. He still wouldn’t speak, but he drew me into him. He wrapped his arms around my waist and laid his forehead against my sternum. He stayed there for almost a minute and then I heard it—two small, muffled, but immeasurably emotional words.
“Thank you.”
He let me go after a moment. I bent and kissed him above his right eyebrow. His blue eyes finally opened and I made sure to look into them as I replied.
“Anytime.”
I found Michael in the room they’d set aside for us. I heard that they tried to bump him up to a nicer one, but he refused. After all, extravagance belonged to Gabriel. Michael was far more down to earth with certain things.
He too had just taken a shower, and I could tell it was a long, hot one by how pink his skin appeared in certain places, as if he’d been scrubbing himself raw. Couldn’t blame him. Images from Hell leapt out at me during random intervals. It had taken a tremendous amount of effort not to hide under the covers all day long. The only reason I hadn’t was because Gabriel needed me to be strong.
I shut the door behind me and crossed my arms beneath my chest. He sat on the bed with a towel in his hands, drying his dark brown locks that looked black when wet. To my relief, he’d finally shaved off the beard, leaving his jaw smooth once again. He wore a white sleeveless shirt and jeans. It was difficult not to focus on the drops hitting his collarbone and seeping downward to his broad chest. Anything to distract me from what was about to go down.
“So,” I said in the most patient voice I could summon. “Should we talk about this or should I just hold it in and let it fester until I get an ulcer?”
Michael inhaled. Exhaled. Flicked his green eyes up to meet my brown ones. “No. Talking sounds like a good idea.”
My fingers clutched my arms until the nails made little crescent moons in my skin. “What in God’s name were you thinking back there? You promised me that we were in this together. When we were at Belial’s house, you said no more secrets and no more lying. And don’t you dare try to be a smartass and say you didn’t lie to me. The deal was to either leave together or stay together.”
Michael’s hands slowed on his head. He let the towel fall around his neck. “Jordan, what do you see when you look at me? Be honest.”
“Right now? A sexist, overprotective jackass.”
“Fair enough. But when you’re not mad at me, I think you see a twenty-something with a good head on his shoulders and some admittedly old fashioned ideals. In that respect, you’re right. That is part of who I am. But there is a large part of me that you’re missing when you look at me.”
He clasped his hands and leaned them on his knees. “Jordan, I’ve been alive for literally millions of years. Millions. I never talk about it because it’s not of much interest to me, but I think it’s starting to become more of an issue as of late. I’ve lived a thousand lives before I met you. I’ve been a bastard for most of them. The man you came to know as your husband and best friend is newly formed. I’ve seen war and death and creation and all manner of things you will never understand until you die and enter the gates of Heaven. There is so much you have yet to experience because you’re only twenty-four years old. Twenty-four, Jordan. Do you know how young that is to me? Not in a creepy pedophile kind of way, but in the perspective of a man who watched the Earth form between the hands of God. I was a part of that. I’ve seen the birth of the universe. I’ve seen planets and stars and galaxies that mankind won’t discover for centuries to come. I’m not telling you this as an excuse. I’m trying to tell you that it’s the reason why I made that deal with Belial.”
He closed his eyes. “I’ve done some things I’m not proud of. A lot of things, actually. What I saw during Mulciber’s Test opened my eyes. I am guilty of all kinds of sin. I’m selfish, prideful, and stubborn. They were right to take the title of Commander from me. Over the last year, I’ve let myself become the kind of man I never wanted to be. I want to be better. More. Different. I realized that the gift of life is precious, and I had taken it for granted. That’s why I couldn’t let you stay in Hell with me.”
He looked at me, and there was something fragile in his eyes. “Jordan, you are a beautiful woman, inside and out. I want you to experience life the way that I should have. I want you to see the world. I want you to taste exotic foods and travel with strangers to mountaintops and swim with whales and sleep under the stars. I want you to see the pyramids of Egypt or Mount Kilimanjaro or Stonehenge or the Nile River. I want you to live to see Lily grow up and fall in love and get married. I want you to forgive your father and go bowling with him when he comes through town. I want you to have the life you deserve. You’re still going to have to fight to stay alive, but I couldn’t deprive you of the chances I’ve always had at my fingertips. If I had to sacrifice myself for you to have them, then that was acceptable. It was a price I could live with paying, even if it made you hate me.”
He swiped at his face, pushing wet tendrils of hair back, but I could tell he was trying to hide tears. He cleared his throat once. “I don’t know if any of that made sense, but that’s why I did it. I apologize. It was unfair and cruel to you.”
I didn’t say anything at first. There was a lot to absorb. After a while, I walked over to the bed and sat next to him. I touched his arm, sliding my hand down the length of it until our hands were clasped.
“I wish you’d told me that a long time ago,” I whispered, my throat constricting. “You didn’t have to hold all of that in. You have enough to worry about without adding my life into the mix.”
“I know. I should have. What I saw in Hell made me realize you haven’t been the only one keeping a wall between us.”
I stroked the back of his hand with my thumb. “What did you see?”
He sighed, licking his lower lip. “Something I buried in my past a long time ago. I saw…Belial.”
My mouth fell open. “What? Why him?”
He shook his head, and damp strands of hair fell forward, settling over his lashes. “There is something that you need to know about him. About me. About who we were to each other before the Fall. It wasn’t just Gabriel who was my best friend. Belial was too, in the beginning.”
I fought the urge to stiffen next to him at the revelation. I knew better than to interrupt. I’d make him feel even guiltier if I reacted before he was done.
“He used to look up to me,” Michael continued. “We were somewhat like a team. I was the brains and he was the mouthpiece. We were so effective that Father offered both of us the position of Commander. That’s when everything changed. I think he was afraid that the title would affect our friendship, so he began pulling away and started counseling with Lucifer. The night before the war, he came to my chambers and tried to talk me into rebelling with him. I said no. I tried to talk him out of it. I’m still asking myself if I did everything I could to save him, and I’m not sure. Then the war happened and things ended up the way they are now. I couldn’t tell you that all this time because I still felt guilty about it, so I stuffed it down and tried to forget about it.”
“Well,” I said slowly. “At the very least, it explains why he hates you so much. Still, if your history is that painful…why did he let you go? It couldn’t just have been for a wedding present.”
“That was the simple explanation. What actually happened was a lot more complicated.”
My brother and wife disappeared in a flash of hellish fire through the gates. Gone. Never to be seen again, except in the various tortures that Belial and the other archdemons would concoct for me in my time here. Just as well. Maybe I could find some small solace in their images.
“She took that rather well,” Belial said, his voice surprisingly empty instead of smug. “Nothing less than I expected. She is a rare woman.”
“Yes,” I murmured. “She is.”
“I have been here for millennia and I cannot recall ever seeing someone do something so foolishly noble in Hell. Men think only of themselves, of their best interests here. Eternity is nothing to be taken lightly, and yet here we are. You have thrown yourself to the wolves for the sake of your loved ones. Had I a heart any longer, I’d commend you for it.”
I let out a hollow laugh. “It’s hot enough down here. Don’t go blowing smoke up my ass, Belial.”
He chuckled. I turned slowly, facing him. “Shall we get started?”
He stared at me for a long while, his jet-black hair sweeping into his pale eyes once or twice as the soot-soaked air blew through it. “Before we go, I must ask you something. What did you see during Mulciber’s Test?”
Part of me wanted to lie, but I knew there was no point. Eternity. He’d get the answers out of me one way or another. Might as well be honest. “You were my first trial. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I had an inkling.”
“And yet you never told Jordan. Why?”
“My soul may be damned, but it is a soul nonetheless. What happened between you and me had nothing to do with her. Even if you regretted your choice, it would not change how I feel about her. The same goes for you, I’m sure.”
A bitter smile touched my lips. “That’s true enough. At least you have your chance for revenge. You’ve earned it. I should have fought harder for you. You were worth it.”
“Yes,” he said quietly. “I was.”
He glanced back at the gates of Hell. “Tell me, Michael. If our situations were reversed and I had become Commander, and you the Prince of Hell, would you offer me the same choice that I did to you?”
I thought about it. “Yeah.”