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The demons scrambled off, leaving Kheone to deal with the chaos they had created. A few bodies littered the courtyard, but none were angels, thank God. Sirens wailed in the distance.
“Gather the bodies and take them to the basement next door,” she ordered.
Kheone opened yet another rift. This had to be her last. She did not have the energy left to open another safely. A throbbing ache beat in rhythm with her heart.
Blank faces looked at her. “But the demons—”
“I don’t want to explain why we have half a dozen bodies littered around our dorm. Do you? Do you think Michael would appreciate the human authorities investigating our presence? Or our hosts? Gather the bodies. Now.”
Once shaken out of their confusion, the gathering removed all the bodies quickly and efficiently. By the time the fire trucks and police arrived, the angels milled around the courtyard. To an uninformed observer, it would seem like they had heard the alarm and evacuated.
Kheone gave a statement to a police officer, something believable and mostly true. Strange sound in the hall. Someone pouring gasoline inside the building. Fire alarm and evacuation. Thank goodness no one had been injured. She made sure the angels’ keen hearing picked up her story.
The police interviewed the rest of her gathering. Kheone watched from a short distance and jumped when a heavy hand rested on her shoulder.
“It is only me, Kheone,” Michael said softly. His voice carried both sadness and anger, but nothing like the rage she had glimpsed earlier. “I came as soon as I heard. Is everyone safe?”
“We’re okay, Michael.” She stepped away from him.
He frowned down at her.
“I am sorry for my earlier behavior, but now is not the time to discuss it.”
A little of the tension bled from her. With everything that had changed in his life this past year, he deserved the benefit of the doubt. He was not used to dealing with the vagaries of attraction and desire. Kheone gave him a nod, accepting his apology. After all, nothing bad had happened, had it?
“You were fortunate to hear them,” he said, his voice lighter.
Here it was. Here was her opportunity to come clean and tell him about Shax. She took a breath and readied herself.
“It wasn’t luck.”
Michael raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth to ask for more information, but the gathering began mustering around them.
“Let’s get everyone settled for the night, then we’ll talk,” she whispered.
He nodded and faced the angels. “We shall shelter in the gym tonight. I will call around and find some bedding.”
The crowd of police and firefighters slowly thinned, and the angels gathered near the annex. Kheone threaded through them and unlocked the building. In twos and threes, they shuffled into the gym and sat on the mats.
Michael took his place at the front of the room, Kheone to his right.
“I need to talk to each of you about what happened. Kheone, guard the door. I will begin with Maj.”
“I need to speak with you first, Archangel. I pulled the fire alarm, and you need to know why.”
He peered at her, his brow furrowed in confusion.
“It’s important,” she said.
“Very well.” He gave a sharp nod. “Maj, you have the door. Come, Lieutenant.”
Michael led her down to the basement, to the very room where she had briefly imprisoned Shax on the night Serel died.
“What is so important?” he asked.
Michael moved to the far side of the room, far enough away they would not touch. Even so, he took up most of the tiny space, most of the air. The heat in the room rose.
Kheone opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, trying to get the words out. It was her job to help him protect their gathering and all the other angels trapped here on Earth. He could not do that if she kept her knowledge from him.
“I’ve been working with the demon, Shax.”
The color drained from Michael’s face, and he glowered at her. He reached for the dagger at his side, hand resting on the ancient handle.
“Please, Michael, let me finish,” she said, pleading. Her voice barely carried over the few feet between them.
“You will address me as suits my station.” His voice was quiet death. In her heart, Kheone knew only their long relationship stayed his hand from plunging the dagger into her breast.
“Yes, Archangel.”
“You are the reason we have lost our haven? You, Kheone?”
“Yes, Archangel.”
“You have betrayed me and this gathering by working with the enemy. Why should I not drive my blade through your heart right this moment?”
“Shax warned me the demons were coming. He saved us when he didn’t have to. I didn’t misplace my trust. Neither have you.”
“When did this start?” None of the tension left his shoulders, and his eyes still snapped with rage. The color had returned in spades. She recoiled from his terrifying anger.
“Since Serel’s murder. He’s been helping me put the pieces together,” Kheone said in a small voice.
“How did you know he did not kill Serel?”
“I didn’t. Not at first, but he took a blood oath. And then we found these.”
Kheone pulled the notes out of her jeans and gave them to Michael. He took them with a grimace of disgust as though they still held a taint from being found by a demon.
“What is a blood oath to a demon like Shax?”
“The same as to me or you. Lie or break your oath, and you’re dead.”
“And these?” Michael waved the pages around. “I suppose he found them and just gave them to you?”
“Yes.” His gaze narrowed in disbelief. “We both felt mine were better hands for keeping them safe. The translation isn’t done, but the spell that tore down the Gates is in there. Our best guess is it went wrong the first time. I’m not sure what happened with Serel or the demon in Nairobi.”
“Why did you not tell me?”
“I didn’t want to make an accusation until I knew exactly what had happened. I realized one of my gathering could be involved. I lived with them, and I didn’t know who was capable of killing a fellow angel. I worked with Shax because I knew he didn’t do it.”
“Why would he help you?”
“He only wants to be left alone. I promised if he helped me, I would make sure he survived to live out his life here on Earth. Shax kept his ability to transform. He became a small, black cat who followed me home. He had every opportunity to kill us and chose not to.”
“This is madness, Kheone,” he said, grabbing her shoulders and giving her a shake. “You cannot trust a demon, not even one you have known for ten thousand years. And you cannot trust this demon, ever. Shax is...Did he seduce you?”
Did he? No. There was no denying the desire between them, but not once had he ever tried to seduce her. Not even when he had kissed her. Kheone shook her head.
Michael’s grip tightened on her shoulders. She deserved the bruises he would leave for lying to him.
“How can I believe you? You admitted to hiding a demon in our midst, to keeping secrets from me. Perhaps this has all been an elaborate scheme to undermine my authority so you could seize power for yourself, lead our angels to their own destruction.”
“I worked with Shax to find out who killed Serel. I only found out he was Machka tonight when he came to warn me.”
His disappointment broke her heart. How could she ever prove to him she would never betray him? Kheone searched her memory for answers, even while guilty tears dripped down her face. An idea wormed through the dark recesses of her mind. Oh, it was a doozy, but might be the only way to prove her loyalty to Michael.
“The Rite of Revelation,” she whispered.
Michael froze, his eyes widening. No angel had invoked the rite since the Fall. Some of Lucifer’s followers had attempted to hide their loyalties once the punishment for rebellion was apparent. A suspect angel could either accept their fate and join Lucifer in Hell or choose the Rite of Revelation. If one lied, even a lie of omission, during the grueling ritual, the soul would vanish. No Purgatory, no Heaven, no Hell. Just...nothing.
Even under the best circumstances, the rite left the subject weak, helpless even, for a long time, relying on the very beings who had tortured you to care for you. It was an act of trust as much as loyalty. If she had any hope of retaining Michael’s trust, retaining her command, this was the only way.
He tightened his grip on her shoulders. Pain shot down her arms.
“Are you certain?” he asked.
“Yes. I invoke the Rite of Revelation.”
“I will make the preparations. You are to stay here until my return.”
Michael kissed her forehead gently, sadly, and released her. Kheone collapsed against the wall. He locked the door behind him.
Kheone sat on the floor, legs crossed, the concrete hard and cool on her buttocks through her jeans, patiently awaiting Michael’s return. She breathed in and out, the ancient rhythm centering her in this moment, this truth. With every breath she took in, she prepared herself for the grueling ordeal she was about to endure. Few survived the Rite of Revelation. One lie, one misleading statement, one tiny bit of truth withheld, and the supplicant burned into oblivion.
The snap of the door lock drew her out of her meditation. She was either ready, or she was not. The next few hours would tell. Michael entered with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder. He bolted the door and placed the bag on a shelf. Grief dimmed the usual luster of his eyes.
“Are you certain, Kheone? Once the rite begins, there is no going back.”
She stood. She did not want to meet her fate sitting on a concrete floor in a storage room.
“Will you ever trust me again if I don’t go through with it, Michael?” When he shook his head, she continued. “Then, yes, I’m sure.”
Michael emptied the rest of the contents from the duffle: a thermos, a vial of holy oil, and a plastic baggie filled with dried herbs. He handed her the thermos.
“Drink this, all of it.”
Kheone unscrewed the cap of the small vessel and smelled the contents before she took a sip. The scent was more pleasant than she had expected, but the taste was bitter, like the rind of a lemon mixed with mustard. The tea would make her mind more suggestible and her skin more sensitive. It wasn’t torture if it didn’t hurt. She drank the rest as quickly as she could and gave the thermos back to Michael.
The archangel mixed the herbs with the holy oil and painted a circle on the floor, taking up almost all the square footage in the room. Light-headed as the tea began to work, tiny motes of color danced across her vision.
“Step into the circle.” Kheone did so. “What do you seek, Kheone?”
“I seek the truth, Archangel.”
“Speak only truth in this circle. Lies bring oblivion.”
Michael chanted in a language long forgotten by the mortals of this world. He raised his hands out from his sides, palms up.
“Truth is light.”
He flipped his hands over, shoving his palms down. Angel fire sprung up from the circle, enclosing them in a ring of rainbow flames. From now until Michael had asked his last question, he would be the only one able to cross the circle. The flames chased the chill out of the air. Sweat beaded on her forehead. The sparks of color from the hallucinogenic tea melded with the colors of angel fire, roiling her stomach. Kheone wanted to close her eyes, but she stood tall in the circle, determined to show she had nothing to hide.
“Each question will bring more pain than the one before,” Michael said, his voice soft in reverence for the ritual. “Answer truthfully and fully. Hold nothing back. A lie or an omission will end your suffering immediately and bring oblivion. The truth will set you free. Do you understand, Kheone?”
A stinging sensation traveled up her left arm like she’d scratched herself on a nail. Kheone looked down, but the skin was intact. The pain would all be in her mind, not her flesh.
“Yes, Archangel.”
The first two questions were straightforward. When did she first know Shax was in town, and when did she discover Machka was Shax? Those answers were simple and reaffirmed what she had already told Michael.
She ground her teeth together as more lines of pain scored into her skin. Imagining what the pain would be like ten questions in, she now knew why only a few survived. As the pain twisted in on itself, her ability to think clearly and give full answers, with no omissions, would become nearly impossible. The only way she would survive was to clear her thoughts as best she could.
“If you found the demon over Serel’s body, why did you not suspect him?” Michael asked.
That was a harder question to answer.
“I did, at first. But then he made a blood oath, swearing he had nothing to do with Serel’s death. And lived. I knew I would lose any chance of questioning him once you and the gathering arrived on the scene. I made a rift here and pushed him through it.”
“But he has deceived you. He impersonated a cat in order to get close to you. Why do you still trust him?”
“He had every opportunity to kill me, kill all of us. He didn’t. All he did was help me investigate Serel’s death. Every clue we unearthed proved no single demon could have made and triggered the device that killed Serel.”
“What have you discovered about Serel’s death?”
She went through their entire investigation, every piece of evidence they had uncovered, every deduction they had made. A demon could not touch the book, so must have had help. No human could handle so much magic. The forces needed to perform the spell would overwhelm a single angel.
“Then you doubt the demon who died in Nairobi was working alone?” Michael asked.
The pain came like a knife digging into her kidney, adding a new layer of misery. Without a tool causing it, the pain surprised her every time, agony rocking her body. It took her a moment to gather her thoughts after he had asked the question.
“Yes.”
“Who would have worked with her?”
“I don’t know, but Shax and I have some guesses.”
“What are your guesses?”
She panted, her thoughts escaping her, scattered by the pain.
“A duo or small group of angels and demons working together. They might have enough power to build and trigger the bomb. Maybe a Duke of Hell. You.”
“Is that why you didn’t come to me with this? You thought I did it?”
The rapid-fire questions flooded her with torment. Kheone moaned. It was the first sound of pain she had made since beginning the ordeal. A tiny voice told her one lie would make it all end. She shoved the voice down deep. Oblivion was not the answer, not yet.
“No. I wanted to come to you with actual answers, not more questions. And I knew you would judge me for working with Shax.”
Michael continued the questions unrelenting. She spilled every secret she had been keeping, unaware of how much time passed. The pain dulled her other senses, and all she knew was she stood in a circle of fear and truth, pain and fire.
Disturbed by the information she spilled out, the archangel kept asking similar questions, almost as if he was trying to catch her dodging one. She was at her limit now, each question bringing an ocean of pain. Her knees were ready to buckle, and her body trembled from head to foot. Michael laid a hand on her shoulder, and she screamed.
“We are nearly finished, my angel. I only have two questions remaining.”
Her shoulders slumped in relief. Michael stepped in front of her. Her vision still affected by the drugs he had given her, a pulsing blue aura hung around his head. Nauseated, she almost vomited. He placed his fingers over her heart, and she screamed again, done fighting her pain.
Michael leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Have you fornicated with Shax?”
After the echoes of her scream stopped reverberating in the small room, she answered, her voice raw and tears flowing freely.
“No.”
His eyes widened in surprise as she opened her mouth to wail again, but the only sound she emitted was a pitiful, rasping wheeze.
“Do you love me, Kheone?” he asked.
When the pain subsided, she answered with one word, her voice a croaky mess.
“Yes.”
At the moment of her creation, Kheone looked upon the golden face of perfection and loved. When Michael rejected Lucifer, she did, too. She owed him everything, including painful truth.
“But not the way you want.”
Michael doused the flames. The pain swept her away, and she collapsed into his arms. Every minute, her agony decreased until it was a normal amount of pain for someone run over by a truck.
“Brave Kheone,” Michael whispered in her ear.
Kheone tried to slip into sleep, the only escape from her pain now. He laid her gently on the floor and covered her with a blanket before walking out.
Caught between dream and wakefulness, Kheone appreciated the coolness of the floor on her bruised body. The blanket kept her from shivering. Lying there in pain, her name being spoken in Michael’s rich voice caught her attention. The door must be cracked open.
“Kheone has been working with Shax,” he said.
No voice answered him, but he paused as though listening. She wished she could move, get closer, see who he was talking to.
“She confessed everything, demanded the Rite of Revelation. She is too close to the truth.”
What truth was she too close to? If she had ever known, Kheone had forgotten in the pain of her trial. She was weak from the agony, from the hallucinogenic tea, from the emotional maelstrom she had survived. She could not think straight if she had wanted to.
“This may be easy for you, Aeshma, but I do not do this lightly.”
Aeshma? Who was Aeshma again? Somewhere in her fogged brain, alarm bells rang. She should know who Aeshma was. The edges of her vision darkened. It would be so nice to give in to sleep.
“Is there not another solution? Perhaps we can convince her of our cause.”
Michael’s voice faded, too. Kheone was so damned tired. She needed to rest. Everything would make more sense when she woke up.
“You keep that animal away, Aeshma. Kheone deserves a clean death, not whatever your monstrosity will do to her. I will handle it.” Footsteps receded down the hall.
Death? Aeshma? Her exhausted brain finally put all the pieces together. Aeshma, Duke of Hell, was working with Michael, Leader of the Heavenly Host.
And he was going to kill her.
Why? Unable to move, she let her mind wander over what she had heard. Kheone was too close to something. Michael’s cause. Holy Mother, Michael had destroyed the Gates. Michael had killed Serel. And now, he was working with Aeshma to keep the Gates from being rebuilt. He was going to kill her because she had nearly found them out.
Everything she had ever felt for the archangel came crashing down. Kheone had loved him, but not anymore. A weight lifted, duty and unquestioned loyalty vanished, and in these, her last moments, she was free.
There was nothing Kheone could do to save herself. She could barely even twitch her fingers and toes, let alone get up off the floor and run. When Michael came for her, she was doomed.
But Michael did not come. With eyes closed, Kheone breathed in and out, drifting, and still, he did not come. The pain lessened as the tea wore off, and she teased the edges of sleep. Maybe her death would be painless. Kheone was going to miss Earth. The food, the drink, the heat, the cold. The sex.
And in her last moments, Kheone finally admitted to herself she was going to miss Shax. She wished she could warn him, tell him to run, tell him she forgave him.