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Authors: Linda Poitevin
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about a future if he intended to live long enough to have one. More importantly, he needed to find a Naphil.
Chapter 14
“It didn’t go well.”
A statement, not a question.
Head tipped back against his chair, Mika’el didn’t bother opening his eyes. “No,” he said. “No, Verchiel, it did not go well. Did we really expect otherwise?”
He listened to the Highest Seraph settle into one of the chairs on the opposite side of the desk.
“What did she say?”
“She told me to grow a set and talk to Seth myself.”
Silence. Then what sounded like a muffled snort. Cracking open an eyelid, he found Verchiel struggling to hide a smile. He scowled. “The world is ripping itself apart, and the one mortal who might have helped me hold it together has refused. I fail to see the humor.”
Steady blue eyes regarded him. “It’s not humor that makes me smile, Mika’el, but admiration. You’re the most powerful warrior in all of Heaven. You led the battle against Lucifer himself. Do you know of any other being, mortal or otherwise, that might have the nerve to tell you what she did? This Naphil has great courage.”
He closed his eyes again, this time pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t need her courage, I need her cooperation.”
“Then earn it. Speak to Seth. Perhaps he will surprise us.”
“Neither of us believes that. The Appointed has twice tried to avoid his responsibility. We have no reason to believe he will do otherwise now.”
He avoided adding what he privately thought, but peering through his fingers at Verchiel, he saw the same concern—no, the same certainty—written across her face, too. Seth, son of their Creator, was weak. Very possibly too weak to do what they needed of him. Which would leave them all—Heaven and Earth alike—in an unspeakably fragile position.
Verchiel’s chin lifted. “Even if you’re right, even if he refuses you, at least you’ll have tried. Perhaps the woman will be more inclined to step in then.”
“I have no time for
perhaps
, Seraph. I need certainties.”
“Fine. You
certainly
won’t solve anything sitting behind your desk.”
Sheer surprise at the tart rejoinder made him drop his hand. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me, Mika’el. The One has given you a task. No matter how distasteful you find it, you cannot avoid the inevitable forever.”
He glowered at her. “There’s another complication.”
“Is that possible when things are already so complicated?” Verchiel asked wryly.
“Samael is watching her.”
All hint of amusement dropped from the Highest Seraph’s expression. “What possible interest could he have in her?”
“If I knew, I wouldn’t be sitting here racking my brain for answers instead of going after the Appointed.”
Verchiel raised a brow at his thinly veiled snarl. Then she frowned. “Wait—you haven’t left her unguarded?”
“Samael would have taken her by now if he wanted to do so.”
“Unless he noticed you hovering around her.”
“He did see me, but only today. He could have taken her anytime before—” Remembering how Aramael had watched over the woman before him, he stopped. He rotated a quarter turn one way and then the other in his swivel chair.
“There has to be a reason Hell is interested in her,” Verchiel pressed. “We can’t afford to take chances, not with the state things are in right now.”
She had a point.
“I’ll put a watch on her.” Seeing her shoulders straighten, he held up a hand. “No. I know what you’re thinking, and it’s out of the question.”
“This isn’t just any Fallen One we’re talking about. It’s Samael. If he makes any kind of a move, none less than an Archangel can stop him.”
“There are five other Archangels.” Well, four that he could use, because putting Raphael anywhere near his traitor of a brother would be just plain stupid.
“None of whom have any experience inhabiting the human realm. Aramael was a Power before he was an
Chapter 14
“It didn’t go well.”
A statement, not a question.
Head tipped back against his chair, Mika’el didn’t bother opening his eyes. “No,” he said. “No, Verchiel, it did not go well. Did we really expect otherwise?”
He listened to the Highest Seraph settle into one of the chairs on the opposite side of the desk.
“What did she say?”
“She told me to grow a set and talk to Seth myself.”
Silence. Then what sounded like a muffled snort. Cracking open an eyelid, he found Verchiel struggling to hide a smile. He scowled. “The world is ripping itself apart, and the one mortal who might have helped me hold it together has refused. I fail to see the humor.”
Steady blue eyes regarded him. “It’s not humor that makes me smile, Mika’el, but admiration. You’re the most powerful warrior in all of Heaven. You led the battle against Lucifer himself. Do you know of any other being, mortal or otherwise, that might have the nerve to tell you what she did? This Naphil has great courage.”
He closed his eyes again, this time pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t need her courage, I need her cooperation.”
“Then earn it. Speak to Seth. Perhaps he will surprise us.”
“Neither of us believes that. The Appointed has twice tried to avoid his responsibility. We have no reason to believe he will do otherwise now.”
He avoided adding what he privately thought, but peering through his fingers at Verchiel, he saw the same concern—no, the same certainty—written across her face, too. Seth, son of their Creator, was weak. Very possibly too weak to do what they needed of him. Which would leave them all—Heaven and Earth alike—in an unspeakably fragile position.
Verchiel’s chin lifted. “Even if you’re right, even if he refuses you, at least you’ll have tried. Perhaps the woman will be more inclined to step in then.”
“I have no time for
perhaps
, Seraph. I need certainties.”
“Fine. You
certainly
won’t solve anything sitting behind your desk.”
Sheer surprise at the tart rejoinder made him drop his hand. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me, Mika’el. The One has given you a task. No matter how distasteful you find it, you cannot avoid the inevitable forever.”
He glowered at her. “There’s another complication.”
“Is that possible when things are already so complicated?” Verchiel asked wryly.
“Samael is watching her.”
All hint of amusement dropped from the Highest Seraph’s expression. “What possible interest could he have in her?”
“If I knew, I wouldn’t be sitting here racking my brain for answers instead of going after the Appointed.”
Verchiel raised a brow at his thinly veiled snarl. Then she frowned. “Wait—you haven’t left her unguarded?”
“Samael would have taken her by now if he wanted to do so.”
“Unless he noticed you hovering around her.”
“He did see me, but only today. He could have taken her anytime before—” Remembering how Aramael had watched over the woman before him, he stopped. He rotated a quarter turn one way and then the other in his swivel chair.
“There has to be a reason Hell is interested in her,” Verchiel pressed. “We can’t afford to take chances, not with the state things are in right now.”
She had a point.
“I’ll put a watch on her.” Seeing her shoulders straighten, he held up a hand. “No. I know what you’re thinking, and it’s out of the question.”
“This isn’t just any Fallen One we’re talking about. It’s Samael. If he makes any kind of a move, none less than an Archangel can stop him.”
“There are five other Archangels.” Well, four that he could use, because putting Raphael anywhere near his traitor of a brother would be just plain stupid.
“None of whom have any experience inhabiting the human realm. Aramael was a Power before he was an
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