Another door clanged, closer this time, and the guard who had gone for help gave a shout.
“Hey! Who the hell are you? How did you get in—”
A betrayal of the One whom he had wanted nothing more than to serve for eternity.
Booted feet broke into a run. Samael glanced toward the approaching men. His wings spread wide, filling the cell. He looked at Mittron. “Well? I need a decision, Seraph.”
The One who had instead chosen to judge him and sentence him to this.
Mittron reached to grasp Samael’s arm.
Chapter 41
Mika’el looked around from his post at the window as the door opened without invitation. He raised an eyebrow at Verchiel. “Let me guess. Another problem?”
“Is there ever not?” The Highest Seraph slumped into one of the wingback chairs on the other side of the desk.
Mika’el’s other eyebrow joined the first. Verchiel didn’t slump. Ever. Nor did she chew on her lip the way a dog worried a bone. “I doubt the news will improve with waiting.”
“There’s been an attack on the woman.”
“The Naphil?” He became alert. “Was she harmed? Was it Samael?”
“She’s fine. And it was Mittron.”
“Mitt—” He gaped. He couldn’t help it. He paced the floor between window and desk, then turned and retraced his steps. “How in all of Hell did he find her? And why attack her?”
“As far as we can tell, he wanted to goad Aramael into putting him out of his misery. The One’s Judgment has been most . . . effective.”
“And Aramael?”
“Resisted temptation.”
Thank the One for that. Mika’el traversed the floor again. “Where is everyone now?”
“Mittron was taken into human custody. Seth and the woman were taken to a hosp—”
“Seth! How does he fit into this?”
“He was with the woman. He was injured trying to defend her. Nothing serious, just broken ribs and a concussion. The woman sustained superficial lacerations.”
“So everything is under control, then.”
“Not quite. Mittron has disappeared.”
“I thought you said he was taken into human custody.”
“And locked in one of their holding cells,” she agreed. “And now he’s gone. The guard saw someone talking to him and then—in his words—poof.”
“Poof? As in he simply disappeared?”
“Apparently so.”
“We’re sure it wasn’t one of ours?”
“They found a black feather in the cell.”
Samael. First his interest in the Naphil and now Mittron. What in Hell was the former Archangel up to?
“I’ll assign someone to look for him,” he said. “Was that all?”
“Not quite.” Verchiel pressed her fingertips to the crease between her brows. “Seth appears to have healed himself.”
His eyes narrowed. “Healed himself how?”
“One minute he was injured, the next he was fine.”
“Without taking back his powers? That’s not possible. The doctors must have been wrong about their diagnosis.”
“X-rays confirmed it.”
“And Aramael didn’t—?”
“No.”
“Bloody Hell.” He spun on his heel and crossed to the window again, turned, and started back.
Verchiel dropped her hand. “Will you please stop pacing!”
He halted mid-stride. Glared. Then dropped into his chair with an aggrieved sigh. “Maybe we’re wrong. Maybe he’s reclaimed a portion of his powers. Have you checked with the One? She would know better than we do.”
“That would be the third thing I came to tell you. She refused to see me.”
“She—” He stared at her. “She has never refused to see anyone. Ever.”
“I know.”
An eternity ticked by. At last Mika’el roused himself, pushing out of the chair again. “I’ll speak with the One,” he said, crossing to the door. “But, Verchiel, if this isn’t the Appointed’s own doing . . .”
Verchiel folded her hands into her robe. “If it’s not Seth’s doing,” she finished his thought, “then we have a bigger problem than protecting the Naphil.”
Aramael stepped in front of the door, blocking Alex’s exit to the waiting area.
“Move,” she growled. “Or I will cause the biggest scene you have ever witnessed.”
“Alex—”
“Now, Aramael.”
He held his ground. “Something isn’t right about this. We both know it.”
She did. But she’d be damned if she’d discuss it with him. She squared her shoulders and met him stare for stare. “Now.”
Gray fire flared in his eyes. Then, in stony-jawed silence, he moved aside. Alex brushed past. In the emergency ward waiting room, Seth stood, tall and impassive, beside windows still boarded over from the shooting the night before. Her step hitched. She stopped. He remained unmoving, waiting. With a steadying breath, she crossed the room. She didn’t skirt the issue.
“How?” she asked simply.
“One of the Fallen. Not by request.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
His gaze didn’t move from hers. Didn’t so much as flicker. Yet she knew without a shadow of doubt that he lied to her. Deliberately. Her throat contracted. She looked away. She ran a trembling hand through her hair. Tomorrow. Tomorrow they would sit down and figure things out. Look at their options. Make some decisions. Tomorrow, but not tonight.
Tonight—she closed the space between them, sliding her arms around his waist and resting her head against his chest—tonight they just needed to go home. Seth hesitated for half a heartbeat, and then folded her close. Held her fiercely.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he whispered into her hair. “And I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop him.”
They stood that way until Alex extricated herself and wove her fingers through his. Together, they left the hospital.
Aramael didn’t suggest that he go with them.
Chapter 42
Alex slid her gun’s lockbox back onto the closet shelf and, with the same care that had guided all her movements since she’d left the bed, quietly closed the door. Just her coat to put on now and she could leave, be gone before—
“Stay.”
She jumped. Closed her eyes. Gathered herself. Then she reached for the coat she’d laid across the hall table. “You know I can’t,” she told Seth.
“I know you choose not to.” His voice was flat. “I heard your supervisor tell you not to come in today.”
She shrugged into the gray wool coat. “I have work to do.”
“With your soulmate.”
“Damn it, Seth, can we please get past this ridiculous jealousy? For the last time, I chose you, remember?” The cell phone at her waist vibrated. She glanced down, saw Jen’s name on the display, and hit Ignore. One fight at a time was enough.
Buttoning her coat, she scowled at Seth. “Look, I’m sorry I need protection from a Fallen One I’ve never even met, and I’m sorry Aramael is the one who has to protect me. Hell, I’m sorry any of this is happening. Armageddon, your mother, the Nephilim—I’m sorry about it all. But I can’t change it and I can’t make it go away, and sooner or later we’re just going to have to deal with it. You are going to have to deal with it.”
“The way you’re dealing with it?” he snapped, his expression turning as dark as his eyes. “You spend your days with the one being I know you still have feelings for, and even when you’re with me we’re not a real couple. Every time I touch you, you pull back. I know here”—he tapped his head for emphasis—“that it’s because of Lucifer. But here?” His hand dropped to cover his heart. “Here, I know how strong the connection between you and Aramael is, and yes, I doubt. I chose you, too, Alex. But I sure as Hell didn’t choose all of this.”