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I'M IN THE MIDDLE OF texting Chris when a knock on the door delays my plans. I'm not expecting any visitors, but I'm in Archangel Tower, so I assume it's one of my peers on the other side of the door.
I'm right, of course. It's Sandalphon. He's the shortest, palest and blondest of all of the Archangels, and his face is least likely to intimidate a demon. I've always thought he looked a bit more boyish than the rest of us.
“What is it?” I ask, sounding less than friendly. Sandalphon and I are on good terms, but I'm not in the mood for a guest.
“By order of Archangel Michael, I'm here to place you under arrest.”
My hand jumps to the hilt of my sword when I hear his reply. “Arrest? Why?”
“I'm not at liberty to disclose that information. I—”
“Do it anyway!” I growl. “We're friends, Sandalphon. Don't I deserve some sort of explanation?”
“That isn't up to me, Jophiel. I'm sorry.” When he sees my fingers hovering over my sword, Sandalphon clutches his. If he's trying to threaten me, it's a laugh. Sandalphon's sword is infused with the element of water. It emits ripples that paralyze almost anything: humans, demons, spirits, and angels. The only being his sword doesn't work on is an Archangel, so I have nothing to fear.
“I'm not coming until you tell me my crime! Not without a fight.”
“Really?” Sandalphon heaves an exasperated sigh. “You'll only get yourself into more trouble if you don't come willingly.”
“As I said, I'll only come willingly if you tell me why I'm under arrest!” I free my fiery blade and point it at Sandalphon.
“Very well, Jophiel.” Sandalphon draws his sword, accepting the challenge.” Although... I would prefer not to fight right now.”
“That's because you know you'll lose,” I taunt him. “How many times have we sparred? And have you ever won?”
Sandalphon swings first, giving me a reason to retaliate. When his watery ripples strike me, I feel a tickle—nothing more. I counter with a wild slash and a kick to the shin that has him staggering backward.
Recovering quickly, Sandalphon cries, “You're being ridiculous! You know you'll be arrested eventually... or do you intend to fight us all?”
“I intend to get some answers!” The fire on my sword's edge sears a hole in Sandalphon's robe, but he pivots before any real damage is done.
“You're being an idiot! Come with me, and I'm sure Michael will explain the situation.”
I easily block another attack from Sandalphon, then another. I go on the defensive for awhile, hoping to either exhaust or discourage him as his blade bounces off of mine.
“Why doesn't Michael himself come to arrest me?” I ask. “Arresting an Archangel seems like an important task.”
“You know how busy he is!”
When my blade draws blood, Sandalphon gasps. I only graze his cheek, and it heals instantaneously, but he looks enraged.
“Oh dear. Did I get a bit of blood in your pretty blonde hair?” I heckle him. “Come on, Sandalphon! Can't you land even one blow?”
He swings again and again, but he can't even nick me. Fire roars along my blade with every crash of our swords. If Michael couldn't come himself, he should have at least sent Haniel, Gabriel or Azrael. They, at least, would provide a challenge.
The devil arrives as soon as he crosses my mind. When Azrael appears in the doorway, his massive blade is already in his hand. He's the only one besides Michael who wields a sword of light. Gigantic, girthy, and wrapped in blinding luster, it can melt almost anything it touches. I've always found their weapon to be a wee bit cumbersome, though. I would rather not sacrifice agility for strength.
“Have you come to join the party, Azrael?” As I speak, I unleash a trio of swings on a squeaking Sandalphon, who barely dodges my attacks.
In his coldest voice, Azrael replies, “I would advise you to take this seriously, Jophiel. This arrest is no joke.”
“When do you ever not take anything seriously?” I ask, but I get no reply.
“I'll give you one chance to lower your blade and come willingly,” Azrael threatens me. “If you don't... I will attack, and you will be shamed.”
I know I can't take on both of them at once, but I'm still not going to surrender. Unlike Sandalphon, Azrael's beaten me before. He's nearly as good as I am. “If it's not one-on-one, it doesn't seem fair,” I complain. “Let me beat Sandalphon first, and then you can have your fun.”
“This isn't fun, you idiot,” Azrael grumbles. “Your future is at stake... or have you not figured that out?”
It's sad to see my friends turn on me so easily. Until a moment ago, I thought these two would have taken my side over Michael's.
I knock away Sandalphon's silly little water sword, and as he retrieves it, Azrael attacks. There's a lot of force behind his blows, but I manage to block and counter with a kick. Unfazed by the kick, he swings again—and again. Azrael is relentless, and unlike me, he hasn't already been worn down by a bout with Sandalphon.
“Surrender, Jophiel!” Azrael demands. “Surrender now. None of us needs to get hurt!”
“Sandalphon's already been hurt,” I point out. “It was only the tiniest scratch, though. Look, it's already healed.”
I hoped Azrael would send a glance in Sandalphon's direction, but his focus is entirely on me. He swings, I block. I lunge, he parries. When Sandalphon collects his blade and rejoins the fight, a groan slips from my throat. Against two opponents, I doubt I'll last much longer.
Azrael's swings are powerful, but predictable, and he's slow enough that I can squeeze in a counterattack here and there. I even slash his arm once—but I don't have a chance to taunt him because his elbow connects with my nose. As I recover from the blow, Sandalphon nearly splits my stomach wide open. At the same time, Azrael's stupid bright blade almost lops off my ear. These two really aren't going easy on me.
I shout, “I thought you were my friends, you know!”
“We are!” Sandalphon exclaims. “But we're not going to disregard Archangel Michael's orders!”
“Why not? I do it all the time. It's fun. He doesn't like it, of course, but he—”
Azrael's blade carves into my wrist, and it's painful enough that it makes me drop my blade. While I'm reeling from the pain of it, Azrael slams me against the wall, and Sandalphon helps to keep me pinned.
“Dammit!” I growl. “Why won't either of you tell me why I'm being arrested?”
Azrael says, “I'll tell you... because like you, and because I'm not afraid to disobey one of Michael's orders.” He crushes my chest against the wall and binds my wrists with a silver cord.
“What is it, then?” I ask. “I swear, I've done nothing wrong!” That's not entirely true. It would be more accurate to say I haven't done anything wrong for awhile.
“That girl you've been spending time with...Anna?” Azrael teases me with her name and inserts a dramatic pause to torture me. And I hate him for it. After an excruciating few seconds, he finishes, “She died today. She got hit by a bus... and Michael thinks you had something to do with it.”