Angels Falling

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Angels Falling Page 28

by Harriet Carlton


  “I will.”

  “Good. For now, we must get back to Felsenmeer. Sariel has returned from Iqaluit.” Michael’s mouth gave a tiny twitch. “And the imminent temper is something I am not mentally prepared for.”

  Chapter 46

  Amber flame crackled around burning wood. The entire foyer of Felsenmeer smelled of the warming fire. Imorean had flopped into one of the couches near the fireplace after he, Roxy and Michael had returned from the rain-soaked valley. He adjusted on the couch, pulling his feet onto the cushion. He was feeling more aware now. His clothes were drying and his body felt as though it was thawing.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” asked Roxy, setting a hand on his shoulder.

  Imorean looked at her. He could still feel her fear. It was moments like this that he wished he couldn’t feel others’ emotions. He was exhausted enough without tapping into foreign feelings. He looked back into the fire, trying to avert his gaze from hers. Her hand tightened on his shoulder.

  “I’m fine, Roxy. Honest.” He gave her a smile that he hoped was reassuring. “It … I’m just tired.”

  From the doorway near the game room and bar annex, someone cleared their throat. Imorean looked over. Ryan.

  “Roxy said you were doing some weird Archangel stuff.”

  Imorean gave a quiet laugh. “You could put it like that.”

  “I got your text, Roxy. I figured you could use this, Imorean.” Ryan approached and offered a glass.

  Imorean took the drink and watched as Ryan sat down in one of the chairs toward Roxy’s end of the couch. “What is it?”

  “Liquid courage. Goose and soda.”

  Imorean took a sip and swallowed hard. Bitter. Burning. Borderline disgusting. It was enough to jar him back to reality. He was safe. He was at Felsenmeer – home. He and Michael would find a solution for his dream. His family and Toddy would not remain Vortigern’s prisoners.

  “Ryan, that’s gross,” said Imorean, setting the glass down on an end table.

  “Not meant to be nice,” replied Ryan. “What happened?”

  Imorean glanced at Roxy. Had she texted Ryan all the details of his panicked flight into the mountains, how she and Michael had had to come after him? Had she been vague? Had she been emotional? What exactly had she shared?

  Imorean swallowed. “My mom’s alive. So are my brother and sister. And Toddy.”

  He turned back to the fire and pretended not to notice Roxy and Ryan look at each other. He could sense Ryan’s sudden apprehension.

  “So, what do we do?” asked Ryan.

  “I don’t know, Ryan.” Imorean ran a hand through his hair. “I really don’t know. Michael said he would send out a team to where she’s being held, but … there’s no telling what they’ll find.”

  “We’ll help,” said Roxy.

  “All of us will,” added Ryan. “Best we can.”

  “I know,” replied Imorean. He kept his eyes on the fire. His shoulders felt as though thousands of pounds rested on them. Stop Vortigern. Save his family. Save Toddy. Find artifacts. Close an entrance to hell. How could he fulfill everyone’s requirements? He was only one person. His hands trembled as he covered his mouth. He felt sick.

  The air pulsed. Imorean launched to his feet, snatching his sword from where it rested next to the couch arm. He knew that feeling. Teleport. Someone had arrived. Felsenmeer’s exterior doors slid open. Roxy scrambled to her feet. Ryan hesitated, like he didn’t know what he should do. Imorean drew, sword glinting against the firelight. A gentle, rose color flashed in the lobby and Sariel appeared through the automatic doors.

  Heat flushed Imorean’s cheeks as Sariel’s crystal blue eyes landed on him, something like hunger filling them. Imorean swallowed. He had been caught rattled, his reactions more extreme than usual. He had drawn and was ready to fight on account of a teleport – one that, had he paid more attention, he would have felt the rosy color to.

  Sariel smirked, blue eyes cold. “You really shouldn’t be using that thing inside, Imorean. You could prick yourself.”

  Imorean opened his mouth to bite a response.

  Roxy snorted, looking Sariel up and down. “I don’t think that’s the prick we need to worry about.”

  An unprecedented laugh rose in Imorean’s throat. He looked back at Sariel. “We weren’t expecting you so soon.”

  “I got here last night, but had to return to Iqaluit. I sent a message. Obviously, you weren’t tuned in enough to receive it,” sneered Sariel.

  Hot anger caught Imorean’s chest as Sariel grinned. He couldn’t help but feel as though he was being baited. Green fluttered over the lobby, and Imorean looked up at the second floor as Michael materialized.

  “Thirty seconds,” he said. “Thirty seconds, Sariel, and you are already picking at my hybrids.”

  Sariel flared his pale wings and soared up into the second-floor balcony. “Only because your precious Imorean seems to be balanced on a knife edge. Are you sure you want a hybrid that twitchy with you all the time, Michael?”

  Imorean narrowed his eyes, but Roxy spoke over him. “At least Imorean doesn’t have to counterbalance in flight to account for the size of his ego.”

  A green flash of humor caught Imorean off guard. He smiled at Roxy, grateful. On the balcony, Sariel scoffed.

  “Sariel,” said Michael. “I believe you have some files for me.”

  Sariel shook himself. “I do. Shall we review them now or later?”

  “Now, please. Imorean, my office, one hour.”

  “On it,” replied Imorean with a nod. He watched as Michael and Sariel vanished, then collapsed back onto the couch. “I do not like that guy.”

  “What’s his problem?” asked Ryan.

  “He hates me. Something to do with how I got into the Archangel club.”

  “Well, anyone would be jealous of that,” muttered Ryan.

  Roxy rolled her eyes. “Not helping, Ryan. We’re supposed to commiserate with Imorean, not empathize with – who was he? Sariel?”

  Imorean nodded. “That’s him. He doesn’t seem to like hybrids in general, but I’m a bit of a hateful exception.”

  Ryan gave a small shrug and Roxy shot him a nasty look. Imorean repressed a shiver. He could feel the tension building between them.

  “I’m going to go take a shower. I’m still kind of cold,” said Imorean. He wanted to be out of the lobby – to not be around Roxy and Ryan and whatever issue they had mounting. It was none of his business.

  “You’re sure you’re okay?” asked Roxy.

  “I’m not going to drown myself in the shower, if that’s what you mean?” snorted Imorean, standing up. “I’m fine, really.”

  Roxy grabbed his hand. “I worry about you, though.”

  “I know,” he replied, gently pulling away. “I promise you, I’m fine.”

  There it was. The façade of fine again. Imorean swallowed hard. The word tasted bitter on his tongue, as though it had become aware of its own falsehood.

  “No one’s fine after something like that, Imorean,” said Roxy, dropping her hand.

  Imorean swallowed hard. “I know. I’ll be fine.”

  White wings spread and Imorean pushed up to the second floor. He took a step toward the showers, but paused as his Archangel hearing caught Roxy’s voice again.

  “You could at least try to be gentler with him. He’s already got Sariel on his back. He doesn’t need you breathing down his neck, too.”

  Ryan snapped. “He’s a squad leader, Roxy – our squad leader. Our lives depend on his judgement. If he can’t keep a level head even when he’s shocked, he’s not cut out for the position. We don’t need any more death either.”

  A muscle in Imorean’s jaw twitched and he moved off again. Not cut out for the position? Hadn’t he reacted in the same way that any normal human would? He closed his eyes as he reached the bathroom door, palm resting on the wood. What exactly did everyone want from him? More human? More angel? Just more in general? Imorean swallowed. He
didn’t know how much more of himself he had to give.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  One hour. Imorean checked his watch as he stood outside Michael’s office. He was right on time. He could sense both Sariel and Michael behind the closed door. He took a breath and knocked. He wasn’t ready to face Sariel’s comments again, but he didn’t have another choice. Perhaps having Michael there would be a deterrent.

  “Come!” barked Michael. Even through the closed door, his voice was loud.

  “Hey.” Imorean didn’t miss the way Sariel’s eyes narrowed as he opened the door.

  “Your informality strikes me, Frayneson,” said Sariel, folding his arms.

  “I would prefer not to quell a fight,” said Michael. Imorean recognized the dangerous tone. “Imorean, have a seat.”

  “What’s going on?” he asked, crossing the office and taking a seat beside Sariel. He could feel tension radiating.

  Michael looked at Sariel, hands folded at his chin. “Tell him what you told me.”

  Sariel sneered, and Imorean didn’t need superior senses to see the disgust in his expression. “Your blunder in Mexico – regarding Bethany Voran. Singlehandedly, you put Vortigern onto our movements. Remiel and Raguel’s intelligence teams have found demon battalions stationing themselves at crux points all over the world. As far as we can tell, they have not stationed at any that we will need immediately yet, but they’re onto us. It’s only a matter of time before they strike lucky and get right onto our trail. Once they’ve done that, they’ll be ahead of us.”

  Imorean looked at Michael, who drummed his fingers together. Brown eyes closed. Mercy. His mercy had cost them their lead and their secrecy.

  Sariel’s lip curled. “This is why Archangels don’t make decisions based on emotion. The road to hell is paved with good intentions, Imorean. You should have known better. What made you think saving that filth would do you any good?”

  “Sariel,” said Michael in a warning tone. “Imorean and I have already spoken about his decision. There is no need for you to give him an additional lecture.”

  “Speaking of additional things,” said Sariel, reaching down into his AL Pack. “Here’s another report for you.”

  Imorean was surprised he could feel any other emotions over the burn of his own shame, but he could feel Michael’s confusion as he took and opened the report. Then green wings sunk. Imorean sat straighter. Something was wrong. Michael read the report in silence, then closed the file and set it on his desk.

  “Sariel, dismissed.”

  “Pardon?” asked Sariel.

  Michael looked up. “Sariel. I said you are dismissed.”

  Sariel raised his chin and stood. Imorean couldn’t resist smirking at him. Sariel bared his teeth, then turned on his heel and stalked out of Michael’s office. Imorean glanced over his shoulder as Sariel left, then turned back to Michael. Green eyes still stared at the file on his desk. There was a cold, unsettling aura in the air. Imorean had never felt it from Michael before, but he had felt it within himself.

  Defeat. A heavy sigh escaped Michael. Imorean shuffled his wings and swallowed. What hadn’t Michael told him? What had been in that report? He almost didn’t want to know. He opened his mouth to ask, when Michael did the most human thing Imorean had ever seen him do. Both hands ran through his short, brown hair and rubbed his face, as though trying to shed the stress away.

  “Your task for tomorrow,” said Michael, elbows on his desktop. “Raphael needs to you to test Colton’s wings in the morning.”

  “Michael?” asked Imorean. “What was in that report?”

  A pause, then Michael leaned forward. “An update on Vortigern. There are rumors he is around the Mediterranean. Which may mean he is moving on Greece. Nothing is certain yet, but that is our latest lead. We have to accelerate. Dismissed.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Michael gave him a sharp look, picked up a pen and turned his attention to the folder. Imorean swallowed. Michael’s eyes were no longer on him, but he still felt rattled. Very rattled. Michael began to make a few notes on the papers inside the report.

  “You were dismissed a moment ago. I suggest you make your exit,” said Michael.

  Imorean stared at him, then paused and extended his senses. Michael was a blank slate. Utterly blank. Not a single emotion wavered off him. Brown eyes narrowed. Michael was blocking him out. Imorean stood. It had been a long time since they had been at odds like this. He stepped off, making his way out the door.

  His eyes closed as he shut the door to Michael’s office. He hated it when they resorted back to their original dynamic. It made him wonder if they had come any distance with each other at all.

  “Has he told you?”

  Imorean’s head snapped up and he took half a pace backward. Sariel leaned against the wall a short distance away from Michael’s office. Wary, he approached.

  “Told me what?” he asked.

  Sariel snickered. “How he chooses the hybrids.”

  “It’s random, right?” asked Imorean. “They just kind of know?”

  “Pfft. You don’t even know your own history. Some Archangel you are. Ask him. You’ll see how ruthless real Archangels are. You aren’t one of us. Never will be. You don’t have the capacity to be one of us. We don’t make decisions in mercy.”

  “Maybe I don’t want the capacity to be a giant pile of dicks,” snarled Imorean, pushing past Sariel and off down the hallway. He could still feel Sariel’s cold eyes on his back. He only hoped Sariel couldn’t feel how rattled he was. If it wasn’t chance that chose them then … what was it?

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  There was a disturbance in the air. Sound. Artificial sound. Imorean smiled, shaking off the tension of his meeting with Sariel and Michael. The door to the third floor slammed shut behind him. He could hear high-pitched, video game noises in the lobby. He walked to the railing overlooking the foyer, perching on it and looking down at his friends. Baxter and Kadia sat on the largest sofa, Roxy and Ryan on the other.

  “No! I said press X!” cried Baxter.

  “I am pressing X!” snapped Kadia, swinging a game controller out to the side.

  Ryan knocked Roxy sideways as he launched to his feet. “Press Y! Press Y! Roxy, she’s going to beat you!”

  “Not, helping, Ryan!” groaned Roxy, elbowing him hard in the side.

  Imorean grinned, glad to find them all. It felt like years since he had seen all of them together. In reality, it had only been a night. It had to have been all the stress. A presence approached behind him and Imorean looked up. Colton.

  “Weird, isn’t it? Being part of them, but not being part of them. You’re a part of the squad, but you’re not really part of it, are you? I see it in your eyes.” Colton leaned his elbows on the railing. “I know what you’re feeling. I felt it when you were all down in Mexico. Part of the squad, but everyone else is experiencing something you’ll probably never feel again. For me it’s flying, for you it’s being human again.”

  Imorean scoffed and shook his head, brushing off Colton’s words. “Well, lucky for you, Raphael is having me test your new wings tomorrow morning. If they work, you won’t be out of commission much longer.”

  “Really?” asked Colton, his eyes brightening behind his glasses.

  “Yep. Just, can I ask a favor?” asked Imorean.

  “Sure?”

  Fighting to unclench his jaw, Imorean looked at Colton. He could already taste the venom in his words. “I am part human. I don’t need reminding that I’m mostly Archangel. I am one hundred percent aware of who and what I am, so could you not rub it in that I’m less human than everyone else in the room?”

  Colton seemed to shrink. “… Sorry, Imorean.”

  “No worries,” replied Imorean, adjusting his position on the railing and trying to keep his jaw from twitching. He frowned to himself, barely noticing as Colton leaned on the metal rails next to him. He wasn’t different to the rest of his squad. Well, maybe he was a little differe
nt to them, but it wasn’t by his own choice and he certainly didn’t feel separated from them.

  “Why are you skulking up there?”

  Imorean grinned. Roxy. Below, the video game noises stopped. Four pairs of eyes locked on him.

  “Sitting in silent contemplation,” replied Imorean. Ignoring the pang of guilt at leaving Colton this time, he flared his wings and sailed down to the ground floor.

  “How’d your meeting with Sariel and Michael go?” asked Kadia, snatching her controller back from Baxter.

  “Not bad,” replied Imorean. Perhaps it was best he didn’t raise the question of how they were all chosen. The atmosphere felt too perfect to puncture.

  “Hey!” yelped Kadia, pressing hard on a controller. “Roxy, you cheat!”

  “I’m just better than you. Don’t be salty,” replied Roxy.

  Imorean glanced at her. She was grinning. It was nice to see her smiling like this – without reservation or nervousness.

  “What went down?” asked Ryan. “Anything we should know about?”

  “I’m not sure.” Imorean leaned on the back of one of the couches. “I think I’ll know more soon, but all Michael said is that we’ll be accelerating. He probably just means more limited time on missions.”

  “That’s it?” asked Baxter. “He called a meeting with you for just that?”

  Imorean laughed. “No one can fathom the workings of a deranged mind, Baxter.”

  Ryan turned back to the television. “No! Roxy, turn your joystick to the right!”

  “Am I playing this game or you, Ryan?” snapped Roxy, the orange-dyed tips of her hair sweeping over her shoulders as she turned to glare at him.

  Imorean looked up at the screen. A car-racing game. He didn’t know this one. He did know, though, what a red, flashing screen meant. “Roxy, I think you’ve just crashed.”

  Roxy spun back to the screen. “Ryan, I told you to butt out two rounds ago.”

  Imorean shook his head, an easy smile making its way onto his face. He had missed this. His friends being his friends – no missions to cloud them. No team responsibilities to clamber in the way. It was just existence. He pressed a button on Roxy’s controller, making her newly respawned car spin hard to the right.

 

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