GABRIEL MISSED the sun. Down here, below the city that rose into the clouds, the light never got much brighter than a dim glow. Nighttime seemed to dazzle, because then the junkyard exploded with blossoms of bright lights against the black sky. He still couldn’t identify the piles of metal, wires and, well, junk, that stretched as far as his eye could see. But at night, it didn’t seem to matter.
Yesterday, as they’d walked back to the house at the north end, Jeff had told him the junkyard extended for four miles in either direction. He’d seemed proud of that, pointing out how he’d wired the floodlights to respond to the lack of light around them, and how the color of the lights could change to guide your path. Light blue always led back to Jeff’s home.
Gabriel shook his head, still trying to make sense of what had happened to him. He hadn’t slept much after his initial descent. His shoulder and his remaining wing both ached. So instead of sleeping, he watched out the tiny window in the room where he would spend his exile.
The room itself had been emptied of everything but the mattress and bedding in the center. Beneath his bare feet, the floor was smooth plastic, except for in the corners where it chipped off, revealing the planks of wood beneath. The slanted roof looked like the old metal blend they used in the original levels, back when Heaven had first been built. This entire house seemed like a patchwork mess.
Gabriel longed for home, for the clean-lined perfection of the buildings stretching out across the horizon. He missed the constant chatter of his companions in his mind. Without his halo, the emptiness echoed, a silence he couldn’t fill. Gabriel wanted to feel the sun on his face, for his wings to slice through the air. He chafed at being the patient here instead of the protector. His purpose was to fight demons, to keep the people of midlevel safe.
Demons. Demons controlled all of downside, the city below. He was lucky Jeff hadn’t turned him over to them. They must have thought him on the cusp of death, one wing gone, halo ripped from him. Without that, he couldn’t call for help, and really, what was one angel against a horde of demons?
Gabriel turned at the gentle knock on his door, another old-fashioned thing, instead of the slide doors he knew back home. He’d left it ajar, so he wasn’t surprised when Jeff ducked under the doorway and stepped inside.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jeff said, probably surprised at catching Gabriel shirtless, his one wing stretched out as he stared out the window.
“No, it’s all right.” Gabriel rolled his shoulders, trying to work out the ever-present kink. “I was trying to stretch out my wings. Wing.”
Jeff moved closer, eyes only for the length of intricate metal that Gabriel held extended from his body. “Does it hurt? It might have been damaged….”
“It needs to be oiled.” Gabriel sighed, knowing there was little chance of finding the right oil downside. Just another discomfort he’d have to get used to here.
“Might have something in the workshop that’ll work. Do you mind me taking a look at it?”
Gabriel’s heart sped up at the offer. “Please.” He held still as Jeff ran his fingers over the dull metal. The touch caused a tingle to reverberate to his shoulder, and he bit his lip to keep from shivering.
“Fascinating technology,” Jeff murmured. “Interlocking metal feathers. Absolutely nothing like demon wings.”
“Have you done a lot of work on demon wings?” Gabriel stiffened, realizing how little he knew of this man.
Jeff pulled his fingers away. “This is Old Trent. You’ll have a hard time finding someone who hasn’t done business with demons.”
“Jeff.” Gabriel grabbed his hand, the sudden contact of skin on skin warm and surprising after being alone. Of course Jeff was right. Gabriel could hardly blame him for doing what he needed to survive. “I didn’t mean….”
“Dad!” Kayla called from downstairs.
Jeff pulled away, giving Gabriel a tight smile. “I’m up here,” he yelled down. “She wants to take you to the market. Fair warning, I think she wants to pick out new clothes for you.”
Gabriel was surprised into a laugh. “I don’t blame her. I can’t very well go around in your pants.” He pulled on the very loose waistband to demonstrate his point.
Jeff turned away. “You’ll need to be careful out there. Trust us to watch your back down here.”
“I know the dangers of downside.”
“No, you don’t. Kidnapping, being used for spare body parts, being made to serve demons, getting forcibly addicted to Ice. You don’t know the half of what could happen out there.”
Gabriel nodded. “I will follow your lead, then.” He had no choice but to submit to Jeff’s expertise. It was little different from following Metatron’s orders but without the constant presence in his mind guiding him to always do what was right.
“Come downstairs when you’re ready. We’ll take care of that wing before we leave.”
JEFF FOUND an oil that might work, a thick yellow-green fluid used for the most intricate of parts. He only had a quart of it left, but if it worked, they could purchase more at the market. At the very least, he could do this for the angel.
“So this is your workshop?” Gabriel’s eyes flitted around the large room, his head tilted at an odd angle. He seemed to be waiting for a voice that never came.
In some ways he was almost childlike, naive about everything. But Jeff knew Gabriel 1089 was dangerous, a soldier for Heaven Corp, with his wings literally clipped. His bare chest rippled with muscles, not an ounce of fat on his narrow frame as if he were meant to soar the skies like a bird of prey. Jeff wanted to run his hands along those chiseled muscles, feel whether they were flesh or made of stone. It had been too long since he’d indulged in touching another man like that, and Jeff hadn’t expected to find himself missing it.
“I like to think the whole junkyard is my workshop,” Jeff said. “But this is where I work on special projects.”
“Like me?” Gabriel finally turned his full gaze on Jeff, those pale eyes startling when focused so intently.
Jeff coughed to cover his reaction, surprised at the thread of desire coiling in his gut. “I think I found you some oil.” He showed Gabriel the clear glass jar.
Gabriel took a whiff of the oil, blinking in response. “Oh. It smells sweet.”
“It’s not your typical junkyard oil,” Jeff agreed. “This should be fine for your cybernetics.”
Gabriel frowned, crossing his arms in front of his bare chest. “You say that like they’re not me. My wings.” He closed his eyes at the slip.
How much did it hurt to lose a limb? Jeff had a flash of Kayla in his arms, blood everywhere, body mangled. He swallowed, not having to imagine the agony at all. “I’m sorry.”
“How do you want me?”
Jeff shook his head at the sudden change of topic. “What?”
“Well, I can’t reach myself.” Gabriel smiled.
Normally Jeff might think that expression coy or flirtatious, but he wasn’t sure about Gabriel. He didn’t know if angels could even engage in such things. All Jeff knew was that they were minions of Heaven Corp, often without wills of their own. The demons had to make their deals around the angels, who could not be bribed like normal humans. But that didn’t answer the question.
“Um, maybe if you lean over my chair,” Jeff offered, “so I can reach everywhere?” His face burned as he stepped into innuendo without meaning to. Yes, the angel was beautiful. They were made to be. But Jeff couldn’t even think about this sudden surprising attraction. Even if angels were able to bend that way, he could hardly start flirting with Gabriel, not when Jeff was keeping secrets to hold Gabriel here.
Gabriel didn’t seem to notice Jeff’s discomfort. He moved into position, kneeling on the seat of Jeff’s comfy chair, crossing his arms over the back and resting his chin on them. His golden wing stretched out, unfurling to its full length.
Jeff couldn’t help but be struck by the beauty of such a fascinating piece of machinery, the interlocking feathers that looked almost more like the scales of a fish, and the way they folded in and over. He picked up a clean shop rag and dabbed it in the jar of oil.
“Should I start any place in particular?”
“At the top, please.”
He buffed the metal, beginning where it met Gabriel’s pale skin, molded to his shoulder blade like he’d been born with it. It made the stub and wires sticking out of the other shoulder a monstrosity. Jeff had to do something about that. But right now he just concentrated on the way the dull metal began to gleam once oiled.
“Oh.” Gabriel’s back arched.
“Did I hurt you?” Jeff lifted the rag away.
“N-no.” Gabriel seemed to need to catch his breath, panting slightly after he spoke.
Jeff stroked his fingers down a set of feathers, delighting in how it caused Gabriel to shiver. He pulled back at the sound the angel made deep in his throat. Touching the angel like this wasn’t for his benefit, no matter how hard he got at Gabriel’s unintentional sensuality.
“It just feels… intense,” Gabriel choked out.
Jeff was glad Gabriel faced away from him, not sure he would have been able to hide his reaction to this intimate touch otherwise. “How….” He almost choked on the word. “How did it feel when the other angels did this?”
“They didn’t. There is an oil spray system in our showers.” Gabriel lifted one hand as if to mimic a motion.
Jeff pictured a row of angels, all nude and looking remarkably like Gabriel, standing together as they were oiled down, wings gleaming.
“Do you think it’s possible,” Gabriel started, voice thick, “to send a message past the demons?”
The sweet smell of the oil turned rancid as Jeff lied. “No, the demons rule Old Trent. No one can afford to cross them.” Especially not Jeff.
Gabriel hunched over. His shoulders humped and his wing dragged, as if it were too heavy to lift. Jeff wished he could help the angel, send him home and out of their lives, keep Gabriel and Kayla safe from whatever Luca planned. Luca had toppled other powerful demons to gain his place, taking virtually all of Old Trent as his territory. He hadn’t been nice or polite about the takeover. Jeff had never seen a demon so ruthless, killing those who stood in his way and leaving the mangled bodies for all to see, both with their own eyes and in flickering holograms around the city.
He added another dollop of oil, almost done, but not wanting to sever this connection with Gabriel.
“What does your name mean?” he asked, wanting Gabriel to talk about himself, but not dwell on what he had lost.
Gabriel let out a laugh. “I’m named Gabriel because I’m an archangel class, one thousand series. Eighty-nine because I was the eighty-ninth made in that line.”
“How many are there?”
“Too few now. They’ve moved on to the five thousand series and the seraph class.”
Jeff wanted to know more, wanted to ask what made each series different, how people had been modified, changed into something other. But it would be wrong to satisfy his mechanical curiosity when all he could give Gabriel in return were lies.
Just as wrong as his enjoyment of Gabriel beneath his fingertips. Jeff swallowed the guilt and wiped off his hands.
“There,” he said. “I think I’ve got it all now.”
Gabriel gave a roll of his shoulder and the wing responded, twisting and sliding into itself until the wing took up no more room than a shirt tucked up against the angel’s back.
“That’s handy.” Jeff’s mind was already whirling with thoughts, comparing the design to the demonic wings, how one could be modified for the better.
“Everything fits now.” Gabriel stood. “Thank you.”
If only everything else could be fixed as easily.