Archangel Rafe (A Novel of The Seven Book 1) (12 page)

“Yes.” Rafe felt the familiar buzz at the back of his mind. “Not again.”

He was being summoned. Emergency Archangel Council meeting. Now.

EIGHTEEN

Rafe translocated into the massive Archangel Council chamber. An oval mahogany table dominated the room. Around the table, seven intricately carved chairs represented the Seven and their responsibilities on Earth.

The other six Archangels lounged around the conference room in their specific chairs, upholstered in the color associated with their title. Rafe’s chair, the green one, was the only empty seat. They met regularly on Sundays, usually followed their meetings with beer, fried chicken and football. An emergency meeting had not been called in decades.

“We have a problem,” Uri said before Rafe even fully assimilated that he was the last to arrive.

Cautiously, Rafe eased into his chair. There was no way Uri could know what he’d just done. No way. And even if he did know, Uri wouldn’t reveal Rafe’s secret this way, would he?

Rafe didn’t want to wait for someone else to ask. Better to go on the offensive. If Uri planned to expose him, Rafe wanted to face his friend directly when he did.

“What kind of problem?” Rafe ignored protocol and asked first.

Michael shifted in his chair, indicating his surprise at Rafe’s actions.

“I just came back from the remnants of the fire in Poland.” Black streaks of soot smeared Uri’s face and sweat slicked his arms, angry with burn welts. Uri was the Bringer of Peace, Birth and Renewal. His weapon was fire but his power was controlling the fire.

“Why are you wasting our time with this?” Zachariel, Archangel of Forgiveness and Cleansing, muttered below his breath.

Uri and Zach fought constantly, their responsibilities at odds. Their weapons, complete opposites. While Uri believed in renewal and rebirth, he also believed in punishment. Zach believed in forgiveness. The only one Zach couldn’t seem to forgive was Uri. Uri always said if Zach was in charge the Grigori and Nephilim would rule the world because we would have ‘forgiven’ them
without
punishment. Their argument was long standing and boring.

“Someone torched the entire one hundred acres and several dozen humans.” Uri glanced around the table, his gaze touching on each Archangel before he continued. “Two Angels perished last night. Lev, a firefighter and Stanislaus, a healer.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t an accident?” Zach sniped. “Maybe they got too close to the flames.”

The fatal flaw of some fire starters was their obsession with fire.

“Screw you.” Uri’s eyes glowed bright sky blue in the black streaks of his face.

“Focus, guys,” Gabriel snapped. The worry in his expression stopped Rafe. Gabe was the Announcer. He brought guidance, purity and joy to the world. He was also a gossip and part-time, tongue-in-cheek conspiracy theorist. He didn’t take anything too seriously and yet, he wasn’t laughing. “Tell them the worst part.”

“They were killed in the old way,” Uri said. Stabbed through the Angel’s mark. That form of execution hadn’t been used in thousands of years since the Nephilim had been eradicated from the Earth.

Everyone shut up.

“How did you learn of this?” Michael crossed his massive arms over his chest.

“Rafe and I discovered them last night.” Uri glanced at Rafe.

How could Rafe have forgotten to tell Michael? He’d been so caught up in his issues with Angelina that he’d neglected his responsibilities to the Realm.

“Could the Angels’ death have been an accident?” Zach wondered aloud, sounding subdued.

One, maybe. Two, no way.

“A spike through his Angel’s mark as an accident,” Uri said sarcastically. “Cause yeah, that happens all the time.”

Zach’s face turned a deep red as he made a move to go after Uri.

“Maybe it was the Rebel Alliance.” Jehudial the Glorifier, Archangel of Illumination and Wisdom, tried to lighten the tension.

Zach growled. “Shut up. How many times do we have to tell you that Tatooine and Skywalker don’t exist.”

“Hey, humans don’t think we exist either,” Jed shot right back. Most of the time Jed’s love of Star Wars amused Rafe but not today.

Michael held his palm upright toward Jed and Zach. “Let’s get back to our problem.”

“Just sayin’,” Jed replied as he fingered his three-pronged whip.

Rafe marveled at how the simple exchange had brought down the raging tension in the room to a healthier level. For a moment, he thought Uri and Zach might start to beat the crap out of each other.

Rafe tried to get the discussion back on track. “Has anyone consulted with the Powers,”
the Keepers of History
, “about possibilities?”

“It certainly wouldn’t hurt to ask the Powers but ultimately, we handle problems on Earth.” Michael dismissed the question. “We are the Guardians of Earth. We need to discover the truth for ourselves. Then if need be we can bring in Nora and the Thrones for judgment.”

Rafe thought he was being too protectionist. “You’re the boss.”

“We need boots on the ground for this one,” Michael commanded. “Is the fire completely out?”

“Still smoldering.” Uri raised his chin wearily. “I will continue to monitor the fire and the circumstances around it.”

“Take Zach with you,” Michael ordered.

Uri blanched. Zach bounded out of his chair, fists clenched. Rafe knew neither one of them was thrilled with that command.

Michael waved at Zach. “Your weapon is water.”

Uri opened his mouth to protest and Michael pointed at him. “And you may need the extra help.”

Both Archangels swore.

Samuel, Bringer of Love and Joy, said softly, “When will you two learn that your powers are complimentary?”

Uri groaned. Zach snorted.

“You cannot exist without each other.”

Rafe wondered how the two would ever get along.

Michael broke the tension. “Rafe, heal Uri’s arms before he leaves.” Michael pointed to Jed, who divined the truth. “Jed, go to the Realm Library and look for any text that references how to kill Angels. This is not common knowledge.”

Jed rubbed his hands together at the opportunity to raid the Realm library.

“Sam and Gabe, you two, monitor the general mood of the Earth. Listen for any disturbance or unusual occurrences. Something is happening. We need to figure out what is going on. Fast.”

As one the Archangels stood. Michael put his fist up to his forehead and the brow chakra, then bowed formally. They returned the gesture.

“No one discuss this with your under secretaries until we have more information.” Michael shot an admonishing look at Gabe. “The last thing we need in the Realm is the angel gossip network letting this get out.”

***

“What’s really going on?”

Rafe and Uri were in the Great Hall. The others had dispersed to complete their tasks. Rafe held his hands over the red welts on Uri’s arms and concentrated on healing the deep burns.

“I told you.” Uri hissed as his skin knit back together.

“Yeah, well you left something out.”

“Maybe I was holding off on squealing about you.” Uri watched the deep burn seal before their gazes.

“What?”

“You reek of her,” Uri said simply.

Rafe flushed, his swarthy skin deepened in the bright light of the Great Hall. He fought the impulse to breathe in. If Uri could smell Angelina on him, then he was screwed. All that fire usually left him with a diminished sense of smell. “What could that possibly have to do with what happened in Poland?”

“I don’t know but all things are connected. There has been a shift in the realm.” Uri shrugged. “Surely you’ve felt it.”

Rafe had been so checked out lately, he hadn’t been paying attention. His assistant’s words came back to him. “Nathan mentioned some disturbance. Something off,” Rafe said carefully as he finished healing Uri. “I dismissed it, thinking it was probably just the continued fighting in Afghanistan and Pakistan.”

But what if Nathan had uncovered something.

“Gabriel seemed particularly concerned.”

Rafe had noticed that too. After he’d relaxed enough to realize Uri wouldn’t out him in front of the Council. “He certainly seemed to be taking the matter seriously.”

Rafe’s thoughts kept returning to Angelina and her family. There couldn’t be any sort of connection between the events. It was totally improbable.

“Angelina Guerisse will die today,” Rafe said into the deepening silence.

“You need to get your head in the Council’s problems, not with a human who could be your downfall.”

“I know,” Rafe agreed.

“So it’s done?”

Rafe knew what he meant. “The transfer of power is done but she still needs to learn. Her training is not complete.”

“So send her to the Realm compound and give her to your under secretary.”

The thought of turning Angelina over to Nathan stirred something primal within him. He didn’t want the man anywhere near her. He didn’t want anyone near her. She was his.

He drew up mentally. Good thing he hadn’t voiced those sentiments out loud. Uri would kick his ass into the Banished Realm before he could blink.

“What do you think?”

“I...can’t do that. Victor was very clear. I have to complete the transition and the training.” Even though finishing her training was going to be pure torture.

“Stupid Virtues,” Uri said in disgust.

Rafe kept going back to Uri’s statement that everything is connected. “There is something...extraordinary about her healing gift.”

“What do you mean?”

“She is extremely powerful. Much more so than her grandmother.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.
Un ange avec le pouvoir déviant.
” Rafe paced the marble floor restlessly. “Everything is connected. What if Angelina’s gift has some higher purpose that we can’t see yet?”

“Perhaps you should consult with the Powers. Find out if there is a precedent for her gifts.”

But if he consulted with the Powers, they might be able to see through his flimsy excuses to the truth behind his dedication to train Angelina. And what if they told him an under-secretary could probably handle the rest. “What if her gift is truly important?”

“What if it isn’t and you destroy yourself in the process?” Uri strapped on a new fire retardant suit.

“I won’t destroy myself,” Rafe insisted. But as he protested, he wondered if perhaps Uri was right. He’d already bent the rules. Rules that had been unbroken for hundreds of years.

Uri advised Rafe, “Do yourself a favor and go find one of Sam’s under-angels and screw her blind.”

Rafe knew Uri was right. Except he didn’t want one of Sam’s under-angels. He wanted what he couldn’t have. And no one else would do.

Forbidden.

Uri took one look at him and knew without a word from Rafe what he was thinking.

“Are you willing to risk everything for her?” Uri asked softly. “Are you willing to risk her?”

“I don’t plan to risk anything,” Rafe replied.

Uri sighed. “It may already be too late.”

NINETEEN

Angelina eased the black suit out of its plastic wrap, the crinkle unnaturally loud in the silence. Dust flew off the plastic as she rolled the clear covering into a ball, then tossed the remnants in the garbage.

Her funeral suit. Suddenly just looking at the damn thing was more than she could deal with. She hung the suit on the door handle and went to check on the kids.

“Hey honey, how’s it coming?”

Lina sat on her bed and frowned at the straight black skirt and plain cap sleeve top. “Why do I have to wear such lame clothes?”

Angelina rested her forehead on the door frame, the edges of the routed wood dug into her skin, the sharp points of pain made her feel just a little more than she wanted. “Please, Lina.”

“They’re lame,” Lina argued.

“They are a sign of respect for your great-grandmother and your mother, who does care what you wear. I am begging you to not argue.” Her breath hitched on the last few words.

“I hate these clothes. But fine.” Lina waited pointedly, silently insisting Angelina leave before she got dressed.

Angelina straightened and left before any more could come out of her mouth.

She was brittle, like the nests of spun sugar that shattered into a thousand pieces with the wrong touch. Her neck had hardened post straight and her shoulders were stuck in an almost military stiffness.

The fear of what would happen if she inadvertently made contact with someone who needed healing weighed on her. Her sorrow over Grammy’s death and her inability to heal her crushed her. Her Grammy was the one person who Angelina would have gladly suffered through the strange and frightening sensations that happened to her body when she did heal. And Angelina hadn’t been allowed to heal her.

She knocked on Brandt’s door. The knob cold in her hand, she pushed open the door. “How are you?”

Clothes lay strewn all over the floor, the chair, the desk. Papers, candy wrappers, pens, pencils, a few empty Monster cans, various teenage detritus littered the floor. “Your room is disgusting.”

“Do I have to wear this?”

Not Brandt too. “Yes. It’s respectful. Get over it.”

“Don’t get mad at me because your boyfriend disappeared.” He placed the zinger with malice and precision.

Where the hell was Rafe? He’d left two days ago and she hadn’t seen him since.

So much for the ‘we’ve got to start your training right away’. Nothing like coitus disappearus. She hadn’t had sex in over a year and she’d picked a guy who chose to take a hike right afterwards. And she should not be thinking about sex while she stood in her son’s room.

“He isn’t my boyfriend. And he has a life.” In an Angelic Realm, somewhere far from here.

He’d known her grandmother, and she had known him pretty well too. That had been obvious when they’d gone to visit Grammy. There had been genuine and heartfelt affection between them.

Which meant he was older than he looked. On the surface he only looked about forty. Grammy had been eighty-eight. Which meant....

“Please just get dressed.”

“Sorry, Mom.” Brandt waded through the piles of clothes. He had that sly look on his face, the one that told her he thought he was about to get away with something as he grabbed the white dress shirt.