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Irdu and Tia set up a network tunnel to bypass regional restrictions, so U.S. news played in the background.
“Officials now have information linking the incident in Los Angeles to other incidents around the country.”
“Ubiquity stock closed at an all-time low, following a day of disaster, including the resignation of their Chief Operations Officer, her alleged involvement in terrorist activities, and the announcement that the SEC is pursuing their investigation against the information giant.”
“Law enforcement believes the identification used by all three suspects to gain employment was falsified.”
With each passing hour the bad news compounded, but Ronnie couldn’t look away. It might be nice if their ability to cloud minds extended to something more severe. Mind control or mind reading. Not that it would matter. It was the same as a magician’s illusion, the trick only worked if someone was looking the other way. With the world focused on them, with so many people wanting to know what was going on, a simple distraction like clouding their minds wouldn’t work. The realization sank into her bones. It was why people had stared at them in Las Vegas, despite her shields. Humanity was looking for them, rather than away.
The TV clicked off, and a hollow hum filled her head, driving anxiety through her.
She whirled to see what happened and found Michael holding the remote. “That's hurting more than helping,” he said. Sympathy shone in his eyes.
Ronnie opened her mouth to protest.
“Turn it back on.” Tia's shrill demand interrupted. “They're dissecting my life.”
Ronnie felt the despair. It echoed her own.
“It doesn't matter.” Michael dropped the remote on the table. Plastic clattered against wood, jarring without the television to muffle it.
Tia was on her feet in a blink and standing toe to toe with Michael. “It doesn't matter?” Her voice stayed an octave high. “I don’t know if time has made you a callous asshole, or you were gifted with the ability to not care, but they're destroying our lives. I like my life.”
Tia's words and frustration burrowed deep into Ronnie's chest, squeezing with a pain she didn't expect. But what Michael said made sense. She rested a hand on Tia's arm. “I know this sucks.”
“No, you don't.” Tia turned on her. “You've spent the last several months hiding from your life. I helped you, not just because of what you meant to Irdu, but I looked up to you. An original who understood the rest of us are important too. But you’re kind of pathetic. More power than anyone—certainly more than the great and mighty Michael—and you spend your time whining that no one respects you and hiding from the fact you got a third chance at life.”
Ronnie wanted to protest, but the words wouldn't come.
Tia went on. “Irdu knows it. Michael knows it. Fuck, the guy at the convenience store probably knows it. So don’t stand here and give me some bullshit line about how you know how this feels. I understand this will pass. That in five years or ten, I’ll be doing something else anyway. I know that. I look forward to that. But if I’m going to live this life now, it should mean something, and right now it hurts like fuck to watch that being torn away, and don’t you dare try to take that from me with pretty words and hollow reassurances.”
Ronnie didn't have a retort. She'd spent months resenting Michael for running away from life, when she'd done the same. “I'm sorry.” That hardly covered it.
“That's nice.” Tia's shoulders slumped.
Irdu stepped up next to her and wrapped an arm around her, and she leaned into him. “You should get some sleep,” he said quietly. He looked at Ronnie. “You know where to find me. All the way in the other room.”
Ronnie nodded, unable to summon more. She couldn't look up. Didn't want to see Michael's face, whether his expression was one of pity or resentment. Couldn't stand to gaze around the small room. She wandered to the window and gazed out over the desert. It was her favorite place. Vivid memories of her first life and death were attached to those sands. And now of her humility as well. She didn’t know how long she stood staring into the night, letting the accusations pummel her until her soul was battered and bruised.
A warm palm settled against her back, and Michael’s familiar energy mingled with hers, soothing and clashing at the same time. “I have no desire to fall.” His statement wove into the stillness rather than shattering it.
“Oh?” Ronnie couldn’t find a better response. Her thoughts were too jumbled, and her heart ached with the reality of the day.
“Mm hmm. Once upon a time, I did. Before you came back, I was running on autopilot. I did because I had always done. When I met you and saw how much you appreciated the simple things, it occurred to me I’d surrendered my appreciation for life.”
This was the last conversation she wanted to have right now. “Which was why you left. I know. We’ve had this talk.”
“I was wrong to do so. Or rather, my reasons for leaving were wrong. You saw that, and I couldn’t grasp it. I don’t have to give everything up and intentionally shorten my life, to re-learn how to appreciate what I have.”
“Neat trick. Can you teach me that?” What she meant to sound like a joke ended in a sigh.
“We can figure out it out togeth—”
Something shifted in the air, like a piece of steel wool wrapped her body and was then yanked free. Michael’s fingers tightened against her spine.
“What is that?” She barely dared breathe. The air felt wrong in a way she couldn’t put words to.
He moved away and nodded toward the two bedrooms at the back of the apartment. “Someone’s here.”
The feeling evaporated as quickly as it appeared, and she blinked several times in surprise, struggling to process the shifts in energy. With a shared glance, she and Michael dashed to Del’s room. Tia and Irdu stood in the doorway but didn’t enter.
Del lay in bed, looking like he slept peacefully, but there was no telltale glow. Ronnie swallowed the lump in her throat. This was like what happened to Izzy; someone took the cherub that granted him immortality. At least they hadn’t injured him in the process.
The thought stalled in her head, and she realized no one was moving. She forced her feet one in front of the other, until she stood next to Del’s bed. She checked for a pulse. For a hint of emotion. For anything radiating from him, to indicate he was still here.
Nothing.
“He’s dead,” she whispered.
Stomping sounded from the stairwell, and seconds later, a loud crash-bang tore through the apartment, like the front door was forced from its jam and rocketed into the wall. She met Michael’s gaze. “I know a place,” she said and grabbed Tia’s hand.
“Freeze.” The command was in Hebrew. Several people in body armor filled the hallway, leveling guns at them.
Irdu took Michael’s hand and then Ronnie’s, and she phased them from the room, the explosion of gunfire echoing in her ears as a street in Omaha, outside a diner, replaced Del’s apartment.
* * * *
“IF YOUR QUARRY GOES to ground, leave no ground to go to.” Irdu settled his chin in his palm, his fingers over his mouth muffling his words.
Michael pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing without looking—thanks to the flare of aura next to him—this conversation could in fact head further south. Fortunately, the diner was relatively empty this time of night
“I would give anything to be watching Serenity right now.” Ronnie’s voice was quiet. She sat next to Michael, but her arms rested on the table, so she could tangle her fingers with Irdu’s.
Michael tried to block out the surge of grief and anger trying to burst from him. He grasped in vain for the numb calm that had been his consistent companion for centuries.
So many years of work. They all taunted Michael. Stepping outside the structure of heaven and hell to keep people safe. To make sure the individual got attention instead of being lost in the machine that eventually became Ubiquity. For what? He’d cost half a dozen lives this week. Close friends... He had no idea where Abaddon was.
Michael couldn’t stop the hiss that pushed through his teeth. “This isn’t helping.”
“They really are destroying all our options, aren’t they?” Tia sank lower in her seat, picked up her coffee, then set it down again without taking a drink.
“Shit.” Ronnie sounded panicked. “What about Izzy? If they went after Del...”
Irdu clenched his jaw. “Izzy has to be all right.”
“I don’t know. I wish I could guarantee he’s fine.” Michael hated this. He’d rather see empires crumble than watch good lives end prematurely. “Tracking him down to ask is the worst thing we can do to him. I warned him. I should have done the same for Sandalphon.” Why did he bring everyone to Israel? Did he think location didn’t matter?
Their pictures flashed across the news channel playing in the diner. Nothing new. They were fifteen-minutes-of-fame celebrities. Between him and Ronnie, they kept a steady bubble of distraction around them, so no one would look twice at the group. The staff here thought nothing interesting ever happened in Omaha, and with any luck, that included suspecting the group of four were the faces on TV. “Fuck,” he whispered when he read the closed captions.
Ronnie glanced up, muttering along with the words as they scrolled by. “The terrorist suspects were spotted in Israel, and are wanted by local authorities in association with the death of a local man.”
The news flashed back to the anchor, who wanted to know how this was possible.
“Hey. Can we get some sound over here?” A woman in the corner waved a waitress over.
“Sure, hon.” Seconds later, TV voices filled the dining room. The woman with the remote glanced between Michael’s table and the TV several times, before focusing on the news again.
“We need to go.” Ronnie’s voice was low.
“In related news, this clip from the Luxor in Las Vegas was released to media outlets just moments ago.” Every muscle in Michael’s body coiled as he watched Ronnie, Tiamet, and Irdu wander into an isolated corner of the hotel and vanish.
“Ubiquity officials have confirmed at least one of the suspects was in Nashville moments earlier, which hardly seems possible.” TV woman laughed, showing too many teeth.
Her colleague looked familiar, and Michael frowned, trying to place the face. “You know what they say, Glenda. If you eliminate the impossible, you might be surprised at what you find.”
“I’m sure that’s not how the saying goes, Craig. Besides, these people didn’t vanish into thin air and teleport around the world.”
“Why not?” Craig asked.
Tiamet said, “I can’t believe the cameras caught us. How did we not think about the fact that entire fucking city is lined with cameras?”
Remote-control waitress called over a coworker and pointed at their table.
Realization struck Michael. The wards only worked if people didn’t want to see. His group had just become the most fascinating thing on the planet, and everyone wanted to see. He tossed some money on the table and stood. “Ronnie’s right. We need to go now.” He kept his tone quiet and pleasant, in contrast to the jumbled mess in his head. “Outside. No witnesses when we leave.”
“Excuse me.” One of the employees called after them. “I need you to wait, please.”
“I don’t think discretion is a choice anymore. Where are we going?” Irdu took Tiamet’s hand.
“Your place?” Ronnie asked Michael.
He nodded. “Yes.”
“Meet you there,” Irdu said before he vanished with Tiamet.
Seconds later, Michael let them into the condo.
“How is this better?” Tia didn’t let go of Irdu’s hand. Her aura spun like a whirlpool, mingling with her counterpart’s.
Irdu nodded toward the door at the far end of the room. “Doorway to heaven. Which... if Gabe wants to find us, puts us directly in his path. No?”
“He doesn’t. That’s not the point.” Ronnie sank onto the couch and dropped her head in her hands, muffling her words.
Realization spread through Michael. So help him, if this kept up, he’d start to see this insane double-thought everywhere. “He already knew where we were in Nashville and Israel. The point isn’t to find us; it’s to keep us hopping so we don’t have time to react.”
“Which means we can’t stay in the condo long. I’m sure he’d love to have it blown up with us in it, to distract us.” The exhaustion had faded from Ronnie’s tone, and she sounded determined and angry. “We don’t stay in any one point longer than we have to.”
Michael nodded. “We have Abaddon’s list. We pick out any names we have a last known location for.” This was good. It was a plan. If Gabriel expected them to keep running, they could act before his people knew what was going on. “We split up the list, we seek, and—”
“Not destroy,” Tiamet said with disgust. “I’m not killing anyone.”
Michael could appreciate that. “Eliminate. I was going to say eliminate. If they have a cherub, they’ve broken the rules. Take the cherub. Send it and the demon back home.”
“Why are you assuming they’ll all be demons?” Irdu sounded defensive.
“I’m not. But only Ronnie and I can send angels home, so as we divide the list, we keep that in mind.”
Tiamet raised her hand then dropped it back into her lap again, as if she realized what she was doing. “Irdu and I can’t send anyone anywhere. We’re grunts, named to work at Ubiquity. Not taught anything else. If Lucifer decided he wanted to call us home at any time, he could.”
“He wouldn’t, though. Would he?” The mask Irdu had worn since he arrived in Israel faltered.
“Probably not.” Ronnie’s reassurance sounded anything but. “He’s a pretty textbook definition of a wild card, though. He knows this is all going on, and he’s not stopping it, either because he wants it to happen, or because he thinks it looks worse if he steps in. I wish I could tell you that letting you stay here was in his best interests, but I can’t guess with him.”
Michael snarled at himself. Why hadn’t he thought of any of this?