by Kyoko M
“And if you could alter the deal to your benefit, would you?”
“Of course.”
“If you had the chance to offer me freedom from Hell in exchange for a gift…” He turned his head to meet my gaze again. “Would you do it?”
My heart hammered out a fleeting beat in my chest. “Depends on the gift.”
Belial stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Everything inside me is telling me to drag you back to Pandemonium and unleash a hell upon you that you have never experienced. Everything, except the part of me that was your brother once. If I am to defeat you someday, it will be honestly. It will be because I am stronger, faster, and superior in every way, not because you sacrificed yourself for the woman we both share our souls with. I will let you go if you will allow me to bestow something upon Jordan.”
My eyes automatically narrowed. “What?”
He smirked. “A wedding present.”
“Are you planning to sleep with her?”
He scoffed. “Come now, that’s not a wedding present, that’s a divorce present. Take it or leave it, archangel. You have three seconds.”
“Are you serious?”
“Two seconds.”
“Belial.”
“One second.”
“Deal.”
“Stubborn ass.”
“Takes one to know one. Now give me your word that this isn’t some trick.”
“I, Belial, Prince of Hell, hereby release you, the archangel Michael, from Hell in exchange for a wedding present. Now get out of my sight, you soft-hearted fool, and go marry your woman properly this time.”
A great weight lifted from my shoulders at his words. The deal had put me in metaphorical chains that now scattered around me in broken links. Free.
I was free.
I walked towards the gates, but stopped just in front of them. I glanced back at him.
“You were wrong, by the way.”
Belial cocked his head, frowning. “How so?”
I smiled. “You are still worth it.”
Then I went through to the other side, to my home, to my brother, to my wife.
“I can’t believe he really did that, even with ulterior motives,” I said. “That’s…huge.”
Michael nodded. “He’ll never hear the end of it from his master, but I think that’s just who he is. He rises above.”
He paused. “Don’t get me wrong—I’m still going to kill him someday, but at least now I’ll feel a little guilty about it.”
A choked laugh escaped my lips. It felt odd. I hadn’t laughed at all today, not with so much hanging over my head. “Same here. But thank you for telling me the truth. And now there is something I need to tell you.”
“What’s that?”
“You weren’t one of my trials. And I think I know why.”
He inhaled deeply, as if dreading what I was about to say. “Why?”
“I trust you more than I trust myself. You’ve never given me a reason to doubt you, even if I’ve done that to you. So I accept what you did for me in Hell, but only if you understand something very important.”
I climbed into his lap, resting my hands on either side of his face, staring into those fathomless green eyes.
“You’re right. The world is a magical place and I should see every inch of it. But I want to do that with you. Sure, I’d still live a full life if you sacrificed yourself for me, but guess what? I don’t want that life without you in it. Do you remember what I was like before I met you? I was scared of everything—the demons, myself, and everything that came with being a Seer. And then we met and you taught me that I had an inner strength I didn’t realize. I don’t need you to live. I want you to. I want you to experience those things with me because you make me happy. Because everything is ten times better when I get to look into your big stupid Disney prince eyes. You forgave me for trying to protect you and so I am going to do the same, but now we’re even. If you want that life for me, then live it with me. That’s the only way it’s going to happen. Capiche?”
He smiled. I couldn’t figure out if there was a word for how gorgeous it was after all that we’d been through. His big hands coiled around my waist and he bumped my forehead with his. “You have my word as an archangel that I will never do something like that again. May God strike me down if I do.”
“Forget God,” I said with a snort. “I’ll whup your perfect ass myself if you try anything like that while I’m still breathing.”
He let out a hoarse laugh, trying to cover up the emotion in his voice. “Yes, ma’am.”
We stayed pressed together for a while, not saying anything. He squeezed my waist, his eyes closed. “This isn’t going to be easy.”
“Not in the least. I’m terrified.”
“Me too, baby. Me too.”
“What if we can’t fix him?” I whispered. “What if Gabriel really is gone? What if we lost our brother?”
Michael touched my cheek. “Shh, it’s okay. He’s stronger than that. We won’t lose him.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. Now come to bed.”
I nodded and he gently scooped me up in his arms, placing me on the bed with great care. He hovered above me on his hands and knees for a moment, gazing down with a softness I couldn’t even quantify. I slid the towel from around his neck, dropping it to the floor, and let my fingers trail down one side of his face, tracing his bottom lip with my thumb. The heat of his skin sent thrills across my arm, raising goosebumps. He was here. He was safe. Thank God.
He leaned in and I met him halfway there, slipping my fingers into his still-wet hair as I kissed him, shivering when cold droplets hit my neck and collarbone. He breathed a heady moan into my mouth, and that seemed to set us both off. In seconds, our clothes were in a pile on the floor and we tangled ourselves in one another, desperate to get closer, to share, to feel, to release. It was nothing like the last time in the hotel room where we were both angry and selfish. Every kiss lit a fire inside me, every touch kindled it into a roaring hearth, and we fed it again and again until it consumed us both. I managed to hold on until his hand found mine on the mattress and he linked our fingers, wordlessly expressing everything he felt while we were in that safe space: fear, regret, faith, loyalty, passion, anger, sorrow, and love. Tears welled up in my eyes and he kissed my cheeks, my lips, my throat, whispering that he loved me in every language he knew before we surged over the edge together.
Michael’s chest was still wide and so warm it was almost hot as I lay on top of him, one arm slung around his neck, the other tucked beneath my side. I angled my head enough to still see the side of his face while my ear was pressed to his shoulder, allowing me to hear the faintest sound of him breathing. His rough fingertips trailed down my naked spine, swirling along the scars he’d memorized long ago. He hummed some tune he made up on the spot and it thrummed across my skin and through my bones like real music should. Time slipped into oblivion. If life permitted it, I’d have stayed here forever. This was home. He was home.
At some point, I shifted so that I could trace the shape of his lips, which he liked, and I liked even more because he occasionally kissed the pads of my fingers or slid them inside his mouth. He let out a contented sigh, lowering my hand from his face and running his thumb across the back of it.
“You should try to get some rest.”
A little worm of fear crawled through my chest. “Will you be here when I wake up?”
“Yeah.”
“Promise?”
“Always. You’re stuck with me forever, Amador.”
“O’Brien.”
He glanced down at me in surprise. I smiled, even though I was so afraid of going to sleep that it made my stomach hurt. “I’m married, remember?”
Michael smiled and kissed me. “Damn right you are. Sweet dreams.”
I laid my head on his chest and closed my eyes.
“Mentiroso.”
“Oh, how sweet. Having a heart-to-heart with your husband
and then making passionate love like never before. Such an adorable little fantasy. Too bad that’s all it is.”
My head snapped upward, making the manacle around my neck dig into the nape of my neck, and the links in the chain jingle. I was on my knees. The rust-red dirt from the arena floor of Pandemonium stained my jeans. Mulciber stood in front of me, grinning widely at the shock on my face.
“Oh, darling,” she purred, adopting a faux pout. “Did you think you really made it out of Hell alive? You’re still here. You’re still rotting away as my chew toy.”
I shook my head over and over, struggling to breath as the panic attacked my body. The scalding atmosphere. The distant wails of tortured souls.
“No, I got out,” I mumbled. “I was out. This is a nightmare. Just a nightmare.”
Mulciber slunk over to me and lifted my chin. “Stop lying to yourself. You never left. You’re going to stay here with me until the end of time.”
Black claws sprang from her fingertips and she slashed me in the face, ripping the right side of my cheek open. The pain was so sharp I cried out and collapsed on my side. She pounced on top of me and pinned my arms on either side of my head, cackling as I struggled. I thrashed with all my might, calling out for Michael, for Gabriel, for anyone to help me kill this bitch and set me free.
“Get off me! Let me go!”
“Jordan!”
My eyes flew open. I lay naked on the mattress. I wasn’t in Hell. I was still in the small, badly decorated room of the Montpelier safe house. Michael was on top of me, holding my arms down. “Baby, it’s me. You’re okay. It’s okay.”
“W-What happened?” I stammered.
“I went to the bathroom. When I came back, you were crying and screaming for me. You wouldn’t wake at first.”
He let go. I threw my arms around his shoulders, clinging to him, burying my face in his neck so he wouldn’t see the tears. “Oh, God, Michael, it was so real. I thought you left me there.”
He hugged me, stroking my back in slow, soothing circles. “You’re safe. It’s over. I’m here. I’m still here.”
I cried while Michael held me, murmuring words of encouragement until I calmed. Once I was stable, he ran a bath and carried me in because I still felt too shaken to stand on my own.
The tub was just barely big enough for the two of us, so he had to sit me on the rim while he climbed in first and then settled me in his lap. The warm water helped me stop shivering, as did the firm familiarity of his bare skin molding into my spine. He got a washcloth and a bar of soap and lathered it up before washing me from neck to feet, going slowly, one section at a time. I focused on the solid thump of his heart between my shoulder blades and managed to forget the horrible nightmare.
“How are we gonna deal with this?” I wondered out loud, once we were out of the tub and he was drying me off.
“Together,” he said simply, smiling a little. “I have some experience dealing with PTSD, so it will just take time. I’ve been fighting in wars since the beginning. You have to start small and recognize things that trigger you. I think you subconsciously felt me leave the bed and you panicked because you thought you were alone again. That’s also why I drew you a bath instead of a shower. The water falling down on you might remind you of the blood rain. Things like that will be important in helping you recover.”
I frowned, catching his hand as he dried off my shoulders. “What about you? Are you saying Hell didn’t affect you as badly?”
The reassurance in his features fled, replaced with a haunted look. “No, I just…have my own set of issues instead.”
“Like what?”
He swallowed. “There’s a nail sticking out of the doorjamb behind you. When I saw it, I…had a panic attack. Took me a few minutes to get it together.”
At first, I almost asked why that bothered him, but then I remembered those demonic women who were selling him like a sex slave in the barn. I cupped his face in my hands and pulled him down to meet me, kissing him. “I’m so sorry, amor.”
“Nothing to be sorry for. We won. It just came with a price.”
He straightened up, switching to a businesslike tone. “Raphael called. We need to meet with him to talk about treatments. Get dressed.”
I nodded and returned to the bedroom, preparing for the worst.
Raphael stood outside Gabriel’s swanky room, bouncing on his heels with nervous energy. I could see his frown from halfway down the hall. He wasn’t the anxious type, so something was definitely wrong.
“Hey,” Michael said in a measured tone. “What is it?”
Raphael nodded to us in greeting and spoke in a low voice, as if worried that Gabriel would hear our conversation through the door. “He won’t eat.”
“What?”
“From what I gather, Moloch spent an extensive amount of time torturing Gabriel by killing him again and again. It seems as though one of those times, he poisoned him. He refuses to touch anything. His body has been without its soul for more than a day. He needs to eat or he’ll fall ill, which will exacerbate his condition.”
“I don’t understand,” I said. “Shouldn’t he return to Heaven? Won’t that replenish the strength in his soul?”
“Gabriel has to be cleansed first. The best way to explain it is that he has an infection and if he tries to enter the gates of Heaven in his current state, he might be rejected. If he were to be ejected for carrying latent demonic energy, he might have a panic attack and become psychotic after not being able to return home. He’s asked several times to go see the Father, but I have managed to convince him not to ascend. It would do irreversible damage to his psyche. I need to keep him on earth and purify his spiritual energy before he can return. Do either of you think you can talk him into eating?”
I glanced at Michael. “I’ll let you decide. He seemed to be able to relax around me earlier as long as I keep his mind off what he went through. How was he the last time you saw him?”
“Quiet,” Michael admitted, rubbing his sinuses. “I’ll give it a try. If I can’t get through to him I’ll come get you, Jordan.”
“Okay.”
Raphael nodded again. “I’ve removed everything that I can think of which might trigger a panic or anxiety attack, but please be careful. He’s in a fragile state. The key is to make him feel safe and loved. I’ll be out here if you need me. If push comes to shove, we can sedate him and hook him up to an IV.”
“Alright,” Michael said. “I’ll do my best so it doesn’t have to come to that.”
He squeezed my hand for the briefest of seconds and then disappeared into the room.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
MICHAEL
The airy, beautiful sound of an orchestra greeted me as I stepped into the room. Besides the music, the first thing I noticed was that it was freezing cold in here. The thermostat was set on forty degrees. Considering how long he’d been in Hell, this probably felt like a warm summer day to Gabriel.
Thankfully, he wasn’t doing anything disturbing like scratching nonsense into the walls or babbling to himself when I walked in. He was walking between the bathroom and the bed, putting his disheveled clothes into his overnight bag. He wore nothing but a pair of loose boxers, as if he were still hot. His fluffy golden hair was uncombed and stuck up at odd angles.
There was a tray of untouched food at the head of the bed: a steak cooked rare, fresh broccoli, a dinner roll, and a glass of red wine that had been overturned.
“Hey,” I said once I shut the door. “How are you?”
“Just packing up the last of my things,” he replied without looking at me. His hands seemed steady enough, but his movements were jerky. “Why? What is it?”
“Nothing. I wanted to check on you, is all.”
He spared me a brilliant smile. I could see the dark smudges beneath his eyes that in no way matched the sunny smile. “I’m stellar. How are you, Michael? You’ve got that glow to you. You and Jordan have taken to bed, haven’t you?”
I cle
ared my throat. “Uh.”
“Relax. It’s a good thing. You two needed to reconnect instead of having a tawdry affair. I’m glad.”
“Thanks.” I went over to the spot by the bed where the tray sat. “Hey, your lunch is getting cold.”
Gabriel shook his head. “I’m not hungry.”
“You sure? It’s ribeye, your favorite.”
“You’re welcome to it.”
I shrugged. “Already ate, but thanks. The wine’s making a mess, though.”
I went into the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth. I lifted the plate and mopped up the wine as I continued. “Where are you heading when you leave here?”
“Not sure yet. I just need to get out. Maybe the Alps. Raphael says I should relax and that is a pretty good place to start. Well, after I stop by to see Father.”
I shut my eyes for a second. “No need to be in a hurry. Heaven will still be there after you’ve recuperated.”
I straightened and walked towards the bathroom with the soaked rag. Gabriel stumbled away from me. “Gabe, what’s wrong?”
He stared at the washcloth wide-eyed, his skin paling, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. “Blood. There’s blood on your hands.”
I frowned. “No, Gabe, this is from the wine that fell over on the—”
He shook his head. “I’ve…I’ve got to go.”
Quickly, I tossed the ruined washcloth in the trash and caught his shoulders as he tried to head for the door. “Hey, hey, slow down. Look at me.”
Gabriel stilled, but his chest heaved with shaky breaths. His heart rate had skyrocketed to something frantic. I kept my voice level and patient. “When’s the last time you ate something, Gabe?”
“I told you, I’m not hungry.”
“Yes, you are. You weren’t here for a couple of days. If you don’t keep up your strength, you won’t heal. You can’t be the all-seeing archangel Gabriel if you catch pneumonia, right? No one’s going to find you impressive with tissue shoved up your nose.”
A faint smile finally touched his lips. “No, I suppose that would be a hard image for one to forget.”