Free Seven Archangels: Annihilation by Jane Lebak

pockets, but not before Michael caught a glimpse of his sigil ring. "Actually, the one I wanted to speak to was Raphael."
    "I'll be glad to take him a message," said Michael.
    "While I'm sure you would do an excellent job," Mephistopheles said, pacing languorously, "I'd prefer to see him in person."
    Michael's wings raised a fraction, and his eyes went cold. "And you'll tell him what?"
    "Give me the Seraph."
    Michael's hand itched for his sword even as he forced himself not to form it. Mephistopheles still kept his right hand hidden, but Michael knew that if he concentrated from where he stood, he could make the ring hot enough to burn. But knowing it couldn't be hotter than the anger of God, he restrained himself.
    Mephistopheles paused. "Why can't I speak with him?"
    "Why can't you get it into your head that I won't let you?"
    Mephistopheles formed his sword (left-handed) and instantly Saraquael with ten Archangels materialized behind Michael, who even then didn't make a sword of his own. He still looked like a backpacker. He could alter his clothing to armor in an instant if necessary.
    Mephistopheles didn't acknowledge the newcomers. "Are you afraid I'm going to do something to him?"
    "Like annihilation?"
    Even Michael was surprised when Mephistopheles lowered his blade, and the ice-chiseled etiquette wavered. "I'm not going to gloat." Michael fought the urge to tighten that ring on his hand. "I wouldn't be so uncharitable as to vaunt the annihilation of a Cherub to his closest Seraph. But he was a member of my order, almost my superior, and I said I'd do him a favor."
    Other than the out-and-out lie about being Gabriel's superior, the entire sentence didn't ring either true or false to Michael.
    "At the end he wanted Raphael to know he loved him, and that he didn't blame him."
    Michael's eyes went obsidian.
    Mephistopheles whipped his head around. "You disbelieve me?"
    Michael gave in just a bit and made the ring hot. "His last words would have been his love of God, which of course you've forgotten."
    "I complied with his request." Mephistopheles gave no indication of feeling the metal searing his hand. "You should endeavor to show more appreciation."
    "Thank you," Michael said. "Get out."
    Mephistopheles flashed away.
    Raguel rubbed his chin. "Do you think Mephistopheles was telling the truth?"
    "I doubt Mephistopheles knows if Mephistopheles was telling the truth." Michael's brow furrowed. "Saraquael, choose three Principalities and have them keep tabs on Raphael all the time. This may mean Satan wants Raphael next, and that's unacceptable."
    Saraquael nodded. "Should I assign guards to the rest of the Seven?"
    "With all due respect," Raguel said, "I don't need that. And I can't imagine Satan being able to lay a hand on Uriel."
    "I can't either," Michael said, "but to be frank, I couldn't have imagined having to have this conversation yesterday, so Saraquael, do it. Actually, make them Angels, and make them unobtrusive. Their first responsibility is to get help, not to get into the line of fire."
    Saraquael nodded.
    Michael folded his arms. "And although I hate to admit it, it's time for something else too."
     
    - + -
     
    Two hours had passed. Mary returned to Uriel's bungalow, carrying a medium sized basket.
    Uriel sent Mary a series of images: the room, the room again, the room yet again, along with a sense of time passing. In Mary's human mind, that nonverbal communication parsed as "Still the same."
    It wasn't entirely the same. Uriel had replaced the quicksilver droplet of soul in Gabriel's heart, hoping it would migrate to the correct place, and Raphael had fallen asleep, wings overspreading the Cherub, the amber glow pulsing even as both slept.
    Mary peered at Gabriel as if looking over the side of a crib, and her heart trembled even as her stomach twisted. You didn't get used to seeing something like this.
    Mary kept her voice low. "I brought you something." She set the basket at the edge of the bed, then