“Michael’s soul has escaped. He has been reborn.”
My head buzzes like an angry hornets’ nest with Gus’s words. I knew Michael was back, could feel it in my bones, no matter how impossible I believed it to be. But God? No one’s ever seen Him. Only an empty throne sits in Heaven, symbolic of his ever-presence. We believe in Him on faith and faith alone. And those who lost faith fell with Lucifer.
Azael continues to shake his head. “Impossible. It’s simply impossible!”
“Nothing’s impossible, Azael. And, apparently, this is no exception.” Gus opens his notebook again and flips through several pages loudly. “There were tests run, and they found a hole in our… security.”
“The Hell hounds?” Azael asks.
“Killed. Every security measure we took was dismantled in a matter of minutes,” Gus answers.
“And when did this happen?” I interrupt, walking up the steps of the altar.
“Seven months ago.”
“Seven months ago?” I curl my fingers into a tight fist at my side. We’ve been lied to for seven months?
Azael jolts forward out of the chair and slams his hand forcefully on the altar, extinguishing a few more candles. “And why weren’t we told?”
Gus sighs impatiently. “It was on a need-to-know basis.”
“And you didn’t think we needed to know?” I feel my voice rising like the bloody mercury of a thermometer in August. Hot, flat anger steams in my mind.
“Seven damn months!” Azael continues. “Seven months of him training in Heaven, while we stomp around Earth running idiotic missions. Pilfering useless souls when we could have been doing something useful!” He picks the hard metal tube from his pocket and tosses it on the table.
It rolls to a stop against Gus’s notebook. He picks it up and tucks it into his own pocket, safe from Azael’s tantrum. “You two were doing what you were assigned to do. You should’ve only been doing what you were assigned to do.” He levels a gaze at Azael. “Indiana?”
Az turns away and kicks out at a small sacramental table.
“We’re beyond that now,” Gus continues. “You didn’t need to know about Michael when it happened, but now it appears that you do.” He scratches the back of his head, thinking. “There have been whispers…”
“Whispers?” I prompt.
He nods his head and continues. “Michael doesn’t remember his past. Apparently, he’s changed. Caused quite a bit of trouble in Heaven.”
Azael paces furiously behind the altar, no longer paying attention. So I push Gus further. “Trouble how?” I remember the way Ariel and Sablo regarded him at the asylum. How they cut off his questions, rested a hand on Michael too heavily.
“He’s not following blindly. He’s asking questions, and Heaven doesn’t like his particular questions,” he shrugs. “When you saw him earlier… What exactly happened?”
I sit forward on my elbows, placing the heel of my hand under my chin. “We were reaping some souls—,”
“ I was reaping some souls,” Az cuts me off.
“—and he landed in a tree with me. He looked young, really young, but he said he was seventeen.”
“You spoke to him?”
“Of course I did. I wasn’t just going to just stand there. He had the sword with him—the archangel sword,” I clarify. “I don’t think he knows how to use it.”
“He doesn’t!” Azael interjects again, still pacing.
“Ariel and Sablo made a brief appearance,” I add.
Gus nods knowingly. “They wouldn’t send him alone to reap that many souls.”
Azael throws his hands into the air. “Apparently not.”
Neither of us acknowledge him. “He didn’t seem to remember us,” I continue. “And his reaction about the souls was strange, too calm for a new angel. When Ariel and Sablo left, though, he said, and I’m paraphrasing this, ‘You’ll be sorry.’” I waggle my fingers menacingly.
“And that’s it?”
“That’s it. He just left.” I shrug.
“He shouldn’t be much of a threat until
My head buzzes like an angry hornets’ nest with Gus’s words. I knew Michael was back, could feel it in my bones, no matter how impossible I believed it to be. But God? No one’s ever seen Him. Only an empty throne sits in Heaven, symbolic of his ever-presence. We believe in Him on faith and faith alone. And those who lost faith fell with Lucifer.
Azael continues to shake his head. “Impossible. It’s simply impossible!”
“Nothing’s impossible, Azael. And, apparently, this is no exception.” Gus opens his notebook again and flips through several pages loudly. “There were tests run, and they found a hole in our… security.”
“The Hell hounds?” Azael asks.
“Killed. Every security measure we took was dismantled in a matter of minutes,” Gus answers.
“And when did this happen?” I interrupt, walking up the steps of the altar.
“Seven months ago.”
“Seven months ago?” I curl my fingers into a tight fist at my side. We’ve been lied to for seven months?
Azael jolts forward out of the chair and slams his hand forcefully on the altar, extinguishing a few more candles. “And why weren’t we told?”
Gus sighs impatiently. “It was on a need-to-know basis.”
“And you didn’t think we needed to know?” I feel my voice rising like the bloody mercury of a thermometer in August. Hot, flat anger steams in my mind.
“Seven damn months!” Azael continues. “Seven months of him training in Heaven, while we stomp around Earth running idiotic missions. Pilfering useless souls when we could have been doing something useful!” He picks the hard metal tube from his pocket and tosses it on the table.
It rolls to a stop against Gus’s notebook. He picks it up and tucks it into his own pocket, safe from Azael’s tantrum. “You two were doing what you were assigned to do. You should’ve only been doing what you were assigned to do.” He levels a gaze at Azael. “Indiana?”
Az turns away and kicks out at a small sacramental table.
“We’re beyond that now,” Gus continues. “You didn’t need to know about Michael when it happened, but now it appears that you do.” He scratches the back of his head, thinking. “There have been whispers…”
“Whispers?” I prompt.
He nods his head and continues. “Michael doesn’t remember his past. Apparently, he’s changed. Caused quite a bit of trouble in Heaven.”
Azael paces furiously behind the altar, no longer paying attention. So I push Gus further. “Trouble how?” I remember the way Ariel and Sablo regarded him at the asylum. How they cut off his questions, rested a hand on Michael too heavily.
“He’s not following blindly. He’s asking questions, and Heaven doesn’t like his particular questions,” he shrugs. “When you saw him earlier… What exactly happened?”
I sit forward on my elbows, placing the heel of my hand under my chin. “We were reaping some souls—,”
“ I was reaping some souls,” Az cuts me off.
“—and he landed in a tree with me. He looked young, really young, but he said he was seventeen.”
“You spoke to him?”
“Of course I did. I wasn’t just going to just stand there. He had the sword with him—the archangel sword,” I clarify. “I don’t think he knows how to use it.”
“He doesn’t!” Azael interjects again, still pacing.
“Ariel and Sablo made a brief appearance,” I add.
Gus nods knowingly. “They wouldn’t send him alone to reap that many souls.”
Azael throws his hands into the air. “Apparently not.”
Neither of us acknowledge him. “He didn’t seem to remember us,” I continue. “And his reaction about the souls was strange, too calm for a new angel. When Ariel and Sablo left, though, he said, and I’m paraphrasing this, ‘You’ll be sorry.’” I waggle my fingers menacingly.
“And that’s it?”
“That’s it. He just left.” I shrug.
“He shouldn’t be much of a threat until
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