Uriel's Descent (Ubiquity #1) (5 page)

It was too bad he couldn’t tell if she would answer any of his future questions with lies. Like any angel, except for reading auras, his gift of seeing a being’s truths only extended to mortals. He didn’t need to be
His will
when it came to other heavenly beings. “It sounds more like it’s short for Metatron.”

Her aura flared again, the yellow almost vanishing in a sea of black and red. She collapsed onto the couch, sinking into the cushions as the glow around her all but vanished. He was concerned she might faint once more, but she managed to stay upright.

She intertwined her fingers so tight her knuckles turned white. “It sounds like a lot of things. Why would you use that word?”

He had no idea what to make of her response. “It’s not a word, it’s a name.”

“Whose?”

There was no way she was faking this. She almost looked terrified. “She was one of the four originals. Yes, I said four.” It felt odd to add the qualifier. Metatron was all but obliterated from their history. Her betrayal was considered worse than Lucifer’s. Most were only created with knowledge of the three. Their curriculum was preprogrammed, so the moment they became an agent, they held all the knowledge deemed necessary to their jobs.

Once upon a time, everyone knew the originals. Lucifer was His advocate, which was why Lucifer chose to walk away and rule in hell instead of staying in heaven. He was always looking for the other side of the story. Michael was His will; Metatron, His voice; and Gabriel, His vengeance.

At the mention of a fourth, she didn’t even flinch. “I assume because there were four of you.”

He raised his brows. “Most of you don’t know that.” He dragged his gaze from her when she squirmed.

“Why not?”

Not only did she know Metatron’s name, she was surprised no one else did? She just got more and more interesting. “They stripped her from the standard lesson plans after she was destroyed.”

The sludgy gold aura leaked from her again, this time swirling and dancing around her instead of flashing and overwhelming. For a moment it looked as if she might cry. She rubbed her face and dragged in a few shaky breaths.

He wanted to reach for her. Something. He’d never seen this before. Even when a cherub and host clashed, their auras didn’t muddy and fade.

A knock echoed through the room, and seconds later the door opened a crack, enough for Ariel to peer through. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

All of a sudden, the light around Uriel—Ronnie…
that would take some getting used to
—returned to the same red she displayed around the office, almost as bright.

Michael didn’t know what to make of any of it. He returned to the chair behind his desk. “You’re fine. What can we do for you?”

Ariel stepped farther into the room, leaving the door opened the crack she needed to fit inside. She shared a smile with Ronnie, but stared at her feet instead of looking at Michael. “Raphael said to come check on things.”

“Is that all he said?” Dripping sarcasm flavored Ronnie’s question. “You’re sure it wasn’t something like
I don’t care who she’s talking to, tell that demon to get her spoiled butt back in her chair right now
?”

Ari lifted her head long enough to glance at Uriel before turning her attention back to her shoes. “Maybe.”

Office politics.
Fantastic.
He wanted to know more about what Uriel was thinking, but he didn’t think he’d get answers from her. Whatever was going on with her energy, he didn’t know if she’d hold up to more questions. He had confirmation enough—she was different. Even if Lucifer wasn’t favoring her, he did something unusual during her creation. It was another piece in a bizarre puzzle.

He looked between the two women. “Uri—Ronnie’s not going back to work today, she’ll be back tomorrow.”

“But—,” Ariel and Uriel echoed in harmony.

He held up his hand. “I’ll talk to Raphael.” He looked at Ariel, and pinked flared across her cheeks when she finally made eye contact. “Make sure she gets home all right.”

Chapter Six

If Ronnie wasn’t walking a fine line between insanity and wondering what Metatron would assault her with next, she might have been amused by the almost tangible hero worship in the room. She was pretty sure Ari would have dropped to her knees and spit-shined Michael’s shoes with her favorite sweater if he asked. And she’d enjoy every second of it.

It was disturbing and funny, and that wasn’t the tiniest bit of jealousy growing inside.

“Don’t get attached. We’ll destroy him soon enough.”

Between the threats to flay Michael where he stood, and the whimpering
the voice
did in Ronnie’s head at mention of Metatron being stricken from common knowledge, Ronnie was learning to love this new element of her thoughts.

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you. How do you know I’m not His voice, driving your directions?”

Because He didn’t dictate that way. He was more hands-off, a trust-His-employees kind of guy rather than a micromanager. Everyone knew that.

“Just because you think you know everything doesn’t mean it’s true.”

Whatever. She was done listening to the vindictive, petty bullshit. Ari waited for her in the doorway. With the afternoon off, as soon as Ronnie got home, she was researching
how to remove dead angel brain stains.
On a search engine other than theirs.

Ari fumbled through a polite goodbye to Michael, and Ronnie bit back a smirk. When he stepped closer to shut the door behind them, the impulse to lean in and kiss him raced through her.
Where the hell did that come from?

She put it all behind her when Ari and she made it outside moments later. The sun warmed her skin, and she turned her face into the heat, enjoying the crisp scent of fresh flowers and trees. At times like this, when she could enjoy all the pleasures that came with having a physical body, she knew exactly why angels and demons vied for Ubiquity jobs.

“You’re sure you’re all right?”

Ari’s question drew her back to the now.

Ronnie nodded. “You don’t really have to make sure I get home. I don’t want to take you away from work.”

“Whatever. No one is going to knock me out of the number one spot in half a day. Also, we’re not going home. Today’s the kind of day made for blowing off responsibility.”

“I like the way you think. What did you have in mind?” That was why Ronnie adored Ari. Research could wait a couple hours. It wasn’t as if Ronnie would get more crazy in that time. Besides, if it was someone else’s voice, that meant she was sane, didn’t it?

“Tell yourself whatever you need in order to sleep.”

The Ubiquity offices occupied their own building in the middle of an office park a few miles from Nashville, isolated enough to not worry about mortals seeing agents phasing in and out. On perfect days like today, she missed the people. So whatever Ari had in mind, Ronnie hoped it involved downtown. No reason to travel to another state when conditions were perfect locally.

“There’s someone I want you to meet.” Ari grabbed Ronnie’s hand.

Ronnie wasn’t sure what to think of the statement.

“He might be able to help with your memory.”

“I can help with your memory. You just have to stop fighting.”

“Does help involve you obliterating me, like the last time we had this conversation?”

“Maybe,”
she said.
“Details don’t matter if you’re gone, right?”

That wasn’t a solution that interested Ronnie. While she knew better than to hope Ari might be right, she couldn’t suppress welling optimism. “I’m in.”

The Ubiquity front lawn vanished, and Ronnie smothered the urge to count the seconds until they rematerialized. She wished Ari didn’t take so long to relocate them from place to place, but since she knew their destination and Ronnie didn’t, Ari drove.

After several agonizing seconds, they arrived on a sidewalk with a smattering of people. No one seemed in a hurry. Small groups of two and three strolled by, heads ducked together, or pointed at shop windows, laughing and chatting. The atmosphere was intoxicating. Sometimes Ronnie wondered if what she did for hell before Ubiquity involved people because she never got tired of having them around. But since Lucifer told her she’d never been among humans until now, she didn’t know how that could be.

“Did it ever occur to you they call him the Prince of Lies for a reason?”

Stupid voice. She was pretty sure Lucifer was sick of her always asking about her memory. If he knew any information that would make her leave him alone, why would he hold onto it?

“I’d say ask him, if you really want to know, but…”

“Maybe you were only there for the most recent conversation,”
Ronnie said.
“But I guarantee, it wasn’t the first time I’ve asked him for help.”

She wasn’t letting this non-conversation with Metatron ruin a perfectly wonderful afternoon. She stowed the nagging questions and followed Ari into one of the windowless shops on the street.

Ronnie paused just inside the door, letting it swing shut behind her, and inhaled deeply. The rich aroma of fresh coffee filled her lungs while she studied the room. With no windows, the only light came from a sparse arrangement of sconces along the wall. The floor melted into the shadows and then reemerged with tables and chairs sprinkled throughout the room.

She didn’t think there was anyone else there, but a flutter in the energy around her pinged her with recognition and drew her attention to a girl behind the counter. Ronnie studied her for a moment. What made her different from the average person? The tingle inside Ronnie reminded her of tracking a cherub, but that couldn’t be right, could it?

“Look closer.”

On second thought, if the voice cared, Ronnie didn’t.

As they approached the register, Ronnie read her name tag. Apparently she was Claire.

“Hey.” Claire gave Ari a warm smile. “Your usual?”

“Two of them.” Ari half-turned to Ronnie. “You’ll never taste a more awesome caramel latte the rest of your existence.”

“That’s an impressive recommendation,” Ronnie said to Ari. Ronnie couldn’t take her gaze off Clair for more than a few seconds, despite her desire to ignore anything a voice in her head was interested in. Every move the barista made was deliberate—gliding her fingertips over the handle of the espresso machine and pausing with each ingredient as if enjoying the scent for the first time.

When her gaze met Ronnie’s, she ducked her head and went back to work. Ronnie really needed to stop staring. She followed Ari to a table at the far end of the room.

“It’s too bad you were passed out.” Ari took the tiniest sip from her drink before setting it down. “I mean, I guess it wouldn’t have happened then but still. You completely missed it. Michael was so worried about you. Doting, hovering, making sure you were taken care of. Can you teach me how to do that?”

“How to pass out? I don’t think that’s the kind of skill you can just learn.”

“Aww. Do you have any idea how lucky you are? He’s
the original
original. Does that even mean anything to you? The
first
angel.”

Ronnie would correct her if she thought it mattered. Lucifer was the first; Michael even confirmed it earlier today. But nothing changed—the world didn’t stop spinning, their jobs would still be the same—if Ari thought Michael was older, and it would let her revel in her hero worship a bit longer. “I guess.”

“You guess? Really? I don’t care where you’re from. He exudes everything positive ever.”

“He is kind of sexy.” Ronnie bit the inside of her cheek the moment the words slipped out. It wasn’t that fraternizing with colleagues was against the rules. Angels hooked up with each other plenty. And demons with other demons. That whole appreciation for a physical form made some seriously horny agents of heaven and hell. Her vibrator was her favorite appliance, even though she’d never tell the coffee maker. Angels didn’t touch demons though. As if demons were beneath them.

Ari shrugged. “I guess. I mean, you don’t hold a position like that and think poorly of yourself, right?”

Ronnie couldn’t argue with that. Something flashed out of the corner of her eye, and she whirled toward it. What was that? Everything was the same as it before. A counter, a cash register, pastries under the counter, and Claire.

Ronnie blinked and looked again. Claire glowed. It was faint. If the coffee shop was any brighter, it wouldn’t be visible. Even the few extra lights over the counter obscured it enough to doubt the aura was there. That explained the tingle in Ronnie’s veins. She turned back to Ari, who drummed the fingers of one hand on the table, expression unreadable.

Ronnie nodded toward the register. “Is she…?”

“A cherub? What do you think?”

“I told you to look closer.”

Even if she was having a hard time ignoring the voice, there was no way she was listening to her cryptic, frequently sadistic advice.

“We talked about this. My name is Metatron.”

And she definitely wasn’t calling it by the name of some long-dead angel no one even talked about anymore.

“Fuck you.”

“How long have you known?” Ronnie asked Ari.

“A while. I don’t know. She’s been working here longer than I’ve been coming here.”

“But…” None of this made sense. “You’re a top performer. You’re a master of following the rules. How come you never took it?”

“Her. Not it, her. The thing about rules is there tends to be room for interpretation. For instance, we’re in a coffee shop even though I promised to get you home safely. I’ll get you there eventually, just not yet. If she ever needs to be sent back, she will be.”

“It’s not the same.” Even as Ronnie ran an argument through her head, her own logic balked, agreeing with Ari. “We have to send them home. It’s the entire reason we have these jobs and the right to live on Earth.” Ronnie pushed her chair back, wishing she could find the confidence to match the words falling over her lips. “If you won’t do it, I will.”

“All right. If you feel like you have to.”

That was odd. Why wouldn’t she want to send a cherub back to heaven? Ronnie stepped toward the counter, and a wash of images slammed into her thoughts. Memories of the last cherub she took, the screams overlapping with the fight, mingling into an agonizing mess with the voice asking how she knew it didn’t hurt.

She tried to force her feet forward. This was her job. If Lucifer was right, gaining this form was what cost her memory, she’d surrendered—temporarily or not—any ties to her past to be able to do this.

Claire looked up, blue eyes wide, half a piece of chocolate caught between her teeth. “Can I get you anything?” Her question was muffled.

Doubt smothered Ronnie’s decision. There must be a reason Ari refused to take her. What was she missing?

“You mean besides everything? Let’s see. She’s not hurting anyone, she just wants the same chance at a body and life as any of us… Do you want me to go on?”

It didn’t matter that those were some really good reasons. The Ubiquity guidelines implied no exceptions.

“Because they’re telling you everything. Uh-huh.”

Fuck.
Ronnie couldn’t do this. Not because of the voice, but because she trusted Ari’s reasons. Ronnie shook her head. “No. I’m good.” She turned back to her seat and dropped down with a scowl. What was she doing?

“Why should you enjoy life but be allowed to take hers?”

Ronnie wasn’t taking her life, just sending her back home. Besides, she earned her chance on Earth. Claire hadn’t even done her time in the proverbial mail room yet.

“Are you sure you’ve earned it? That’s a confident statement for someone who doesn’t even remember what she was doing before she got here. What’s one cherub, give or take, in the grand scheme of things?”

Ronnie gritted her teeth. Stupid, reasonable, obnoxious voice.

“You’re welcome.”

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