“He’s got to cauterize the wounds, Madi,” Michel whispered in his ear, cradling him gently against his chest. “It’ll make the bleeding stop so he can heal.” Madigan didn’t know how much more he could take of all this. His head was spinning, and his stomach was churning.
The sticky blood clung to him like a liquid from hell. He sobbed pitifully, wanting this to be over with, needing this to be over with.
Yuri screamed as the flaming sword touched his bleeding wounds, and the smell of burning feathers and flesh finally got to Madigan. He turned his head and wretched, throwing up the day’s food in painful heaves of his gut. Michel petted his back and whispered in his ear, trying to comfort him.
“There,” Dex said as he finished applying his sword to Yuri’s wounds. He picked up the other angel like he weighed nothing.
Madigan dared open his eyes long enough to see the tangled, gnarled mass of what used to be Yuri’s wings. They were scorched in places and bent at so many different angles that it looked like an angry child had snapped toothpicks in various directions under Yuri’s skin. His stomach heaved again.
“We need to get them home,” Michel said, scooping up Madigan like he weighed next to nothing as well.
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“I’m right behind you.” Dex nodded in his direction. Michel took a running step and launched himself up into the air, flapping his wings furiously to gain altitude.
The winds were just as cold high up as they were below, but Madigan barely felt it. Everything had gone curiously numb, and the world didn’t seem to be moving very fast. It was like time suspended.
The sky above was an ugly gray black, completely obscuring any starlight that might have provided him some kind of reference point in the world above the ground.
“A brief respite before the storm,” Madigan whispered. The wind whipped away his words and distributed them out into the sky. It had been an all-too-brief respite. His heart constricted. What had happened to Cross? Where had Bren taken him?
“Almost there, baby,” Michel said as they climbed into the clouds themselves. Then Madigan felt the cold. It was a damp, penetrating cold that seeped through his already wet sticky clothes and dampened his skin. He shivered. “I swear, baby, five minutes tops.”
They fell out of the sky like eagles on one of the Discovery Channel shows Madigan loved to watch, and his already sore stomach protested that, too. Luckily, he had nothing left to throw up. They hit the ground harder than usual, the movement jarring in its intensity.
Another distant thud clued Madigan into the fact that they weren’t the only ones landing. Michel fished out Madigan’s car keys from his pocket, which was impressive considering he had to juggle Madigan’s weight to do it. The nephilim didn’t think he could walk. It was too much effort.
“His eyes are dilated. Looks like a concussion,” Michel said as he bounded up the front porch steps.
“Where’s Cross?” Madigan asked, finding his voice. He barely remembered getting here.
Is this what shock feels like
?
From somewhere in the interior of the house someone shouted.
“Dex! Michel! Get up here!” It took a second to process that it was
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Bren’s voice. He sounded choked. Was he crying? The fact that one of his husbands needed him drew Madigan out of his stupor.
“Put me down,” he commanded, struggling a bit in Michel’s hold.
“I’m okay, Michel. Please, let me go to him.” He tried to put all the returning sanity he could into his gaze, and something in the depths of his eyes must’ve reassured Michel because the angel put him slowly on his feet.
Madigan wasted no time getting up the stairs. Despite the fact that he was stiff and hurting from numerous cuts and bruises on his body, the only thing that mattered was getting to his main goal. He swung around the corner and into their bedroom. The sight that greeted him made his heart plummet into his stomach.
Bren sat with his legs tucked into his chest, his massive black wings spread out behind him, and his hands which were glowing a faint blue over Cross’s naked chest. Cross looked lifeless, still in a way that wasn’t natural for the living. Tears blinded Madigan, and he nearly collapsed. This couldn’t be happening.
“I don’t know why he won’t wake up,” Bren sobbed. Tears cascaded down his normally cocky face. “My archangel said it could resurrect anyone.”
The others rushed into the room, Dex carrying a now-unconscious Yuri. Madigan gave another little whimper of protest. Madigan shut his eyes tight as if by blocking out the light, Madigan could free himself from the situation they were in.
Please, please, I need them. I
need them all. Please, help me.
“
Put your hands over Bren’s
.”
The extra voice in his head had Madigan’s eyes snapping open. “
Don’t worry about what you’re
hearing, Madigan. You must hurry. The spell that Lucifer gave Bren
is almost out
.” A bolt of energy went through Madigan, propelling him across the room faster than he thought he was capable of. It was a giddy, tingling energy that infused him. That strange voice in his head instructed him to take Bren’s hands, so that was what he did, pushing
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the energy in his body out through his fingertips and into the still form of his lover.
Immediately, Cross’s color got better, going from a pale gray to its normal complexion. The deep gouges and wounds on his chest slowly closed before his eyes, and the first stuttering breath Cross took made Madigan give a whoop of joy. The pulse at Cross’s neck began beating, weakly at first and then faster as the white light Madigan was exuding spread across his angel’s body. Madigan felt like he’d done this a thousand times. This act, whatever it was, felt natural to him.
After the light died away from his hands, Madigan felt swamped with tiredness. He swayed on his feet. Distantly, he heard his lovers calling out to him, but the world spun out of control and he fell toward the carpet and unconsciousness.
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“I’m speaking with him now,” Dex said as Bren paced the carpet outside their bedroom. They’d all thought it best to let everyone sleep as dawn approached, but they were still in full panic mode. Dex had offered to contact his archangel Gabriel to ask about the spell and how the hell the hunters had been allowed to harm Madigan. He hadn’t been the most severely injured, but he had been cut and bruised and traumatized. He’d also had a nasty slice taken out of his head, most likely from the spear that had pierced Yuri’s wings. If Bren ever found the three people left of the hunting party that had tried to kill them…
“You’ve got to calm down, Bren,” Michel said, stopping his pacing with a well-placed hand on his shoulder. It was weird to think that just a few months ago the idea of working side by side with Michael’s angel was distasteful. As a rule, Michael’s and Lucifer’s angels just didn’t get along very well. Now Bren couldn’t imagine a life without every single one of them.
He pulled Michel closer and nuzzled his hair as he wrapped his arms around him. The angel took the hint and leaned into him.
Thank
God
. Michel kissed the side of Bren’s neck. The urge to gather all of his men to him and dissolve into a puddle of exhausted thankfulness was one that Bren had difficulty resisting, but before they could sleep, they had to know how the hunters attacked them. Yuri’s brain would be of great use right about now, but his was asleep, trying to heal the massive injuries to his wings upstairs in the bed beside a still-unconscious Cross.
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A loud banging on their front door had the three guardians tensing. Another series of loud banging followed.
“Please! Open the door! Please!”
Bren and Michel drew their swords in unison. The muffled voice sounded familiar. Bren looked through the spy hole and saw Marius and his two mates standing on their front porch. He was half naked as were his mates. They looked like they’d left wherever they’d been in a hurry. Healing arrow marks dotted the angel’s pale skin in the gray morning light. The two nephilim by his side looked shaken. The smaller one was crying. He glanced back at his men, who nodded at him to open the door.
He swung it open, and Marius ushered his mates inside. His eyes widened as he took in their drawn swords. His shoulders slumped, and a look of pure defeat crossed over his face.
“Please, I just want to get my lovers safe. Please.”
Bren could detect no deceit in those words nor in the expression that Marius wore.
“How do we know you didn’t bring the wolves to our door?”
Michel asked, his voice hard. How Bren had ever thought Michel was too nice was beyond him. He was fiercely protective and turned into a real hard-ass whenever he sensed something that posed a potential threat to his men. It made sense for him to be that way, even if it was weird. The Archangel Michael was, after all, Heaven’s general, but still, the hardness was a different side of Michel entirely.
Marius’s green eyes narrowed. “You don’t. But trust me when I say I’ll kill every one of the fuckers given the chance.” His arms tightened around both of his mates. “They tried to kill my Levi and Erik. They need to die like I need a tan.” The comment would’ve been humorous in a different circumstance given the paleness of Marius’s complexion. Levi, the blond, rhythmically clutched his hands as he stood beside his lover, staring at the floor.
“I had to leave Miss Kitty,” the sweet blond whispered.
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“We’ll get her back, baby,” Marius reassured immediately, all of his attention going to his mate.
“Miss Kitty?” Bren asked. He had to suppress the sarcastic jab he was tempted to make. It wouldn’t really be appropriate.
“The kitten Marius and Erik bought me as a wedding present.” He sniffled, actually sniffled as the sentence ended. “I couldn’t find her when the hunters came.”
“I’ll sneak back tonight and get her,” Marius promised, hugging his gentle mate.
“We didn’t say you could stay,” Michel reminded, pointing his weapon at the three of them. Marius growled and stepped closer.
“Don’t threaten another man’s charges, Michel,” Dex said sternly.
“We both know what is going to happen if you keep up this aggression. There’ll be a fight. Madigan wouldn’t want that. You know he’d offer them Sanctuary.”
“We have enough to worry over!” Michel protested. Bren couldn’t help but agree. It was hard enough with three injured members of their family upstairs and hunters possibly already plotting outside their doorway.
“I can help. I’m one of the fallen. I may not be an angel anymore per se, but I have my own powers,” Marius offered. He looked more than a little desperate. “I’m begging you here. I have to have my lovers somewhere safe until we can move to our wedding location.
There is a town of sanctuary not far from here. That’s where the ceremony is supposed to be. Please, it will only be a few days at most.”
“How did you even find us?” Bren asked, his eyes narrowing.
“This isn’t the address listed on the card.”
Marius fished in his pockets and extricated the card Madigan had given them. “I tried calling Madigan’s cell, but there was no answer.
So I tried the other cell listed. I talked to a lady that said she was Madigan’s mother. She gave me the address and said that you guys would give us sanctuary.”
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Dex nodded like that made sense. “The owner of the house can extend sanctuary to anyone they choose. You know that, Michel.”
“She doesn’t have possession,” Michel argued.
“Madigan would give that to them, and you know it. There is no more arguing about this. Look at them, Michel. They’re exhausted and scared. How would you feel if someone tried to turn Madigan away?” That bit of the argument seemed to win him over.
He sighed heavily. “I’ll get the linens out of the closet. You guys can sleep in the angel room.” He turned and stalked down the hallway.
“Don’t mind him. He’s still upset about earlier,” Dex said.
Marius nodded in understanding. “They apparently did a big sweep of the area. They nailed one other set of nephilim before us.
We’d met them earlier in the week. They were also heading toward sanctuary.” He bit his bottom lip. “Don’t know if they made it out.
They did call and warn us, but I have no idea what happened from there.”
Bren frowned. “Have there been a lot of nephilim come through town recently?” Marius nodded. Michel returned with the mountain of blankets and pillows, and they all followed him into the angel room.
Marius froze in the doorway. “Raphael? The Archangel Raphael himself?” The half sentences made sense to Bren.
“Yes. Our Madigan is Raphael’s son.”
“That would make perfect sense. Nephilim are probably being drawn to Madigan’s awakening power. An archangel’s offspring gives off a hell of a larger power signature than most nephilim produce.” Marius finally walked forward over the threshold and into the main part of the room. Levi and Erik took up a position on the couch as Michel made a makeshift pallet in the floor. “The hunters are using Madigan’s power like a lure. They waited until the number of nephilim in the area was saturated before they went after you all.”
“Why us? Why not Madi?” Dex asked, puzzled.
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Marius walked over and sat in between his two lovers. “You guys could suppress the visibility of his power. They could be trying to force him into his Angelhood early. That would draw nephilim from all over the States to here. Without you guys to buffer the birth of a new angel, it’d be like shooting fish in a barrel.”
“Fuck!” Bren cursed. “Hunters are so fucking evil!”
“You were one of Uriel’s, weren’t you?” Dex had a thoughtful expression on his face. “That’s why you know the lore and the hunters so well.”
Marius sighed and hugged his lovers to him. “Half right. I was one of Uriel’s, and I do know the lore because of it. However, I was also a hunter for two hundred years. Uriel cast me out because I killed an innocent. Hunters have laws that govern them, and I broke them.