“LET’S TALK NUMBERS, AF.” Uriel casually twirled a pen between his fingers as he gathered his thoughts. This conversation required a certain amount of delicacy. He needed to present the facts in a way that even the stubborn, idiotic, damn-lucky-to-be-in-one-piece, Angel of Wrath could understand. And understanding was critical. If he didn’t get his act together and show some remorse ASAP, Michael was thinking of sending him to the Stone Garden for some R&R. Two hundred years of R&R to be exact. Uriel had been able to redirect his brother’s attention to other crises for now, but it was only a matter of time before he made a decision. The clock was ticking and Af was not cooperating.
Slouching in the leather chair on the opposite side of the desk, Af simply cocked one eyebrow and twisted his mouth into a grimace of smug annoyance. Gripping the arms of the chair, he tried to affect a bored expression but his white knuckles gave away his tension. They’d been sitting in the room for ten minutes already and Af had yet to speak a word.
Uriel sighed and kept talking. “422. 10,000. 1.5 billion.” He paused for effect, fingers still twirling the pen, moving a little faster now.
Af ignored him and picked at some imaginary lint on his jeans. The pen went airborne, narrowly missing Af’s left eyeball. The angel simply shifted slightly to get out of the flight path.
“Not interested? Let me break it down for you. That’s 422 dead people. People who weren’t supposed to die now. That’s 422 souls that had to be processed prematurely.”
Shifting his butt in the chair, Af rolled his eyes, muttering, “So bring in extra staff.”
Uriel ground his teeth together in an effort to keep his voice down, but Af’s flippant remark was almost too much. Was he so arrogant that he didn’t care about the deaths he caused? Didn’t care about the suffering? Uriel’s voice rose as he continued. “10,000 humans are infected with the BLACK DEATH!”
Af stiffened when Uriel dragged him halfway across the desk to jam their noses together while shouting at full volume, “THE BLACK DEATH! Are you insane?”
Af’s lips twitched as he jerked away from Uriel’s hold. “I was pissed. It was the first thing that popped into my head.” His mouth finally curled into a cocky grin and he added with a chuckle, “Come on, Uriel, it’s a classic. Everyone loves the Black Death. I could’ve done so much worse. I actually showed some restraint for a change. 1.5 billion dollars in damage and less than 12,000 dead or injured is nothing compared to what I’ve done to other cities. People should be grateful.”
“You stupid, arrogant ass!” Uriel slammed his hand on the desk so hard, the Plexiglas cover shattered with a loud crack sending pieces flying like shrapnel. “Have you learned nothing at all from this?” Launching to his feet, Uriel marched around the desk to haul the smirking asshat out of the chair before slamming him into the nearest wall. “Your damn arrogance is what caused all of this trouble to begin with! Are you so blinded by self-righteousness that you can’t see that?”
Af’s eerie eyes sparked with red hot rage as he glared into Uriel’s. Wrapping his fingers around Uriel’s forearms, he forced them downward until his feet were touching the floor again. Baring his teeth in a snarl, he warned, “Remember who you’re talking to, old friend. I might not be an Archangel, but I’m the only Angel of Wrath.” He flung Uriel’s hands away and snapped, “I don’t have to listen to this from you!”
Slamming Af back into the wall so hard the concrete cracked from floor to ceiling, Uriel immobilized him with a wave of his hand. Gaping in surprise at the heavy-handed tactic, Af was stunned speechless for once. Uriel took a few steps back, dragging his fingers through his hair in frustration while trying to resist the urge to punch the idiot.
Turning back to Af, he began harshly, biting the words from between clenched teeth, “I’m the one being who’s trying to help you right now, so yes, you do have to listen to me. And yes, you will shut the hell up and pay close attention to every word that passes my lips or I will turn you over to my brother and let him deal with you. Am I clear?”
The silence stretched until Af finally flushed and broke eye contact. “Fine. Talk.”
“You should’ve come to me when Lucifer approached you with the mission to take out that island, but you didn’t. Why not? I know the answer, but I want to hear you say it.” Leaning forward to stress the next words, he added, “And I want you to hear the words.”
Twin spots of red bloomed in Af’s cheeks and his eyes glittered ominously, but he answered the question with a heavy sigh. “I didn’t come to you because I thought Lucifer was wrong. I didn’t believe that the girl’s offspring was important. I was convinced he had bad intel and I didn’t want to kill those people unnecessarily. It seemed pointless.”
Uriel looked him in the eye and sharpened his tone again. Af needed to learn this lesson and learn it well. He’d not likely get another reprieve from their father if he got into another bad scrape. “But you were wrong, weren’t you? If you had come to me right away, I could’ve dealt with this. I would’ve told you that Lucifer was correct and taken steps to keep Irina alive. But you were too arrogant to do that and now my brother has won this round. The girl’s been taken out of play. Her line is dead. Thank you for making my job even harder.”
Af opened his mouth to protest, but Uriel held up a finger to silence him. “Shut up! I’m still talking. Now, pay very close attention and take my words to heart because I’m telling you this as your friend now. Your arrogance caused the deaths of 500 people on that island and 422 people in New York City. Your actions caused the deaths of a woman and two small children in the Catskills. One of those children, the boy, would have grown up to be one of the greatest presidents the United States had ever had. But you lost control and incinerated him and the rest of his family in your bloody selfish thirst for vengeance. You’ll have to live with their deaths on your conscience, and I hope, for your sake, that it reminds you of why you have to stay in control!”
Af lowered his chin to his chest and closed his eyes. Still forced against the wall, his back was straight, but his shoulders sagged in defeat. Good. Maybe some of this was sinking in. “Do you have anything to say?”
Shaking his head slowly, Af cleared his throat and rasped, “I didn’t mean to hurt them.” His voice roughened to a hoarse whisper. “My wings . . . I couldn’t think of anything else. I’m . . . I’m . . . sorry.”
Uriel frowned at the genuine remorse in Af’s tone and released him from the wall. The angel slid to his knees and buried his face in his hands. The clock ticked for several minutes without either saying a word. Finally, Af pushed himself to his feet and rubbed a hand over his eyes. Pale and drawn, he looked miserable. This was excellent. Maybe he’d learned something, after all.
“If we’re done bonding, I need to get the fuck out of here. I’ve got a demon to track and butcher. If you want to put an unselfish spin on it, consider it a vengeance killing for Irina. However you want to look at it, I’m going to find Seth and peel his scales off one at a time until he’s so dead even his memory is gone.” He gave Uriel a mocking smile and put his hand on the door handle to leave.
Well, at least he’s focused. Unfortunately, Af’s plans of mayhem and murder would have to wait. As long as Michael was still debating the Stone Garden, Uriel wasn’t going to let the troublemaker out of Tartarus. He might have his wings back, but he was still grounded.
Uriel chuckled darkly and said, “You’re not going anywhere anytime soon. You’re staying right here with me until I decide you’re stable enough to get back to your usual work. It’s generous of you to want to avenge the girl’s death, but we’ve got a Primani that’s about to move on Seth’s operation. You just focus on staying out of Lucifer’s sight until I can let you out.”
Af’s mouth dropped open as Uriel’s words sunk in. “You’re kidding, right? I’m stuck here?”
“You’re welcome.”
One week later:
Be at peace, little angel. Raphael lowered his eyes so no one would see the cloud of emotion that shadowed them. Masking his turbulent thoughts behind a serene Zen that he very often did not feel, he forced a deep, cleansing breath to settle the tension humming through his muscles. Standing in the rear of the small waiting room, he watched silently as Af clenched his jaw and shoved his hair away from his face for the tenth time. He understood the angel’s impatience all too well. This meeting had already dragged on past the usual hour and there seemed to be no end in sight. Uriel and Lucifer had been barricaded inside the conference room for four hours already and everyone was getting antsy. Even the mindless drones flanking the entrance were beginning to get fidgety. Lucifer’s security team was nothing if not disciplined, however. Regardless of the yawning of the hours, they guarded the big boss’s privacy with stolid expressions. They were overly muscled and vicious killing machines. Not many demons would dare argue with them, and the only angels who came to see his brother were other Archangels on official business or dropping in for the occasional holiday celebration.
It was rare for anyone other than Michael or Uriel to visit, though. Gabriel and Lucifer weren’t on good terms these days, and he, himself, was normally too busy to visit. Today was different of course. They were negotiating Af’s future. Uriel thought to spare his friend the indignity of getting an athame in the kidney while Lucifer still refused to guarantee Af’s safety while in Tartarus, and Tartarus was the most secure location for him until he was brought back under control. Raphael had offered to take some time to help Uriel get Af stable. His thirst for vengeance was damn near a physical being at this point and that made him more volatile than ever. With his wings unpinned, he was a force to be reckoned with, which was why they had him on lockdown on this plane for the time being. And then there was the threat of the Stone Garden hanging over Af’s head.
So here they were—waiting for the two stubborn brothers to find something to agree on.
Shifting his weight to the other foot, Raphael rested his head on the wall and closed his eyes to bring Irina’s face to mind. It was only right that someone grieved for her. Someone should feel the pain of her loss. That someone should be him.
The girl was dead. His heart ached for her. She’d suffered needlessly; horribly. Not every human lives a full life. Not every human lives a valued life. This girl—this one girl was special though. Her family had been important, but now she was gone. Her family was gone. There was no one to mourn her.
No one to miss her. No one to care now. What’s done was done.
No. Now there was nothing left to do besides let the human police investigate the crime; nothing to do but help put a stop to this disgusting practice. However, this was not a matter for his Primani just yet. Human law enforcement could handle investigating the trafficking ring and stopping the criminals. He would stay out of the matter until he was needed, but he’d keep an eye on Seth. He’d monitor the operation and maybe do what he did best—nudge a promising new psychic in the right direction. That intuitive FBI agent and her partner, Jaren, were close to a breakthrough on the trafficking case, but they didn’t realize it yet. When they did, things were going to get interesting up in Plattsburgh again.
Now—where was Faolan hiding? That Primani has had all of the solitude he was getting. It was time to bring him back into the fold.
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