“Sit,” Michael said, gesturing as he turned to an angel beside him.
Gabe felt himself flush, the confidence he’d worn like armor dented. Every chair was occupied. A purposeful slight.
No one moved.
“Take mine.” Raphael said, and pushed back from the table. He waited until Gabe took his place before laying a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve been scarce these past days, Gabriel.”
“Yes,” Gabe answered. There was no point in attempting to fashion a cloaked truth when there were so many real reasons. He chose one. “I thought perhaps it would be best to give everyone time to adjust to my return.”
Raphael shot him an annoyed glance. “May we speak of the Siders, please?” Raphael asked. A creak broke the silence as Michael leaned back in his chair, his fingers forming a tepee.
“Of course,” Gabe said uncomfortably.
“We’ve learned how to kill them,” Raphael continued. The ten angels sitting around the table turned expectantly between him and Gabriel, following the exchange as it bounced back and forth. “We’ll be moving forward with the extermination.”
Gabe licked his lips. “I don’t believe that’s necessary.” He stood, his words desperate but careful. “There may be options we haven’t considered. The Siders were mortal once. I think they can be cured if . . .”
He trailed off as their faces changed.
“Cured?” one said, wearing a look of condemnation.
Dropping his head, he wanted to give them an image of Madeline helping him when he’d been Fallen, of Eden and how much her friendship meant to him. Kristen, and the bond they shared. But the other Bound wouldn’t look beyond the unnaturalness of the Siders. “Make them mortal again,” he said quietly. “So that there’s no reason to kill them.”
Slowly over the years, he’d learned the Siders spread Touch, which made the mortals become either manic or depressive. Touch was addictive and ate away at the path of a mortal each time it was passed until there was nothing left. “Their bodies act as if they’re still alive. Without a path, they can’t move forward. I think the Touch is the key. We need to figure out what it is and then . . .”
Raphael walked to stand beside Michael, clearly disappointed. “These are not things you should be investigating, Gabriel. Our only task is to eliminate the threat.”
“But—” Gabe started, and Michael slammed an open palm against the table.
“Gabriel, this ceases immediately.” Michael suddenly appeared next to him, catching him in an embrace. “Do you not realize how we fear for you? You Fell for these creatures. No Bound has ever come back from that, save you. And yet you seem so eager to dispose of this glorious turn.” Michael kissed his cheek softly.
Having Michael this close triggered memories of why he’d left Michael decades ago.
It’d been slow and subtle, the way Michael had isolated him from the others. First, simply extra assignments around the mortals. Then the official position as Messenger. As one of the only Bound allowed to travel back and forth between the realms, Gabriel had been lonely, ached for Michael and the moments they were able to steal together. He’d met Az when Az was a Watcher, one of the Grigori. They’d both been on assignment. It’d been so nice to have a friend, someone to team up with and pass the time. When some of the angels—Az included—had started mixing with the mortals, Gabriel had turned a blind eye, even though it was forbidden.
But Michael hadn’t. He’d accosted Gabriel for letting it go on and made sure Az’s indiscretions came into light. When he’d made an example of Az, Michael had finally lost Gabriel once and for all.
Now Gabe felt Michael tense. Had he picked up a bitter thought Gabriel hadn’t meant to send out? “If you cannot bear the strain, you can tender a resignation as Messenger.”
“No!” If he was kept Upstairs, Gabe wouldn’t have a chance at helping the Siders. They’d be slaughtered. “I’m strong in my beliefs,” he said. “I can do what needs to be done.”
“Prove it,” Raphael said, standing up. “We know you have the location of the death breather. Why have you not ended her? Her destruction would benefit many.”
“I will go, but it’s possible she and her crew have already gone into hiding.” Gabe bit the inside of his cheek.
Michael sent a thought screaming through his mind. You’re in such danger, Gabriel. You must satisfy them with a Sider.
“I . . .”
Give them what they want! Michael insisted.
Gabe racked his brain, frantic. He had to give them something. “There’s a coffee shop,” he said, shame burning through him even as the words blurted out. He couldn’t stop. “She goes there sometimes. It’d be a good place to check.” And then, casual enough to sound like an afterthought, he added, “A Sider works behind the counter. He’s high-ranking and might have information.”
But Gabe hoped Zach wouldn’t. And that Zach would forgive him.
CHAPTER 5
Madeline squeezed her ungloved hands, trying to coax warmth into her fingers. This close to Christmas, the sidewalks were thick with mortals grabbing gifts for friends and family. The best of her Queens crew were out in pairs, making friends with perfect candidates for new Siders—guys built strong for fighting, girls lithe and clever—and then luring them back home.
Once Gabe had told her what he’d learned, that creating a Sider was as easy as super-loading the mortals with enough Touch to erode their paths, she’d gotten to work. Only survival mattered. She wasn’t about to face the Bound without the biggest army she could muster.
The war was coming.
Of course, Gabe knew nothing of what she’d set out to do. I helped him, she reminded herself. In truth, she’d risked more than she should have to help Gabe when he’d Fallen. Kept him from committing the worst of sins, aided him when he’d spied Downstairs. Using what he told me isn’t wrong. It’s payment.
Honestly, only time would tell how flawlessly her plan came together, if making Siders actually worked. So far, none of the few mortals they had captured seemed close to going suicidal. Time ran shorter than her patience.
A dark thought needled its way in, not for the first time. A way to speed things up. Before she could pursue it, an arm curled around her waist, a voice smooth as honey in her ear. “Now where are you rushing off to?”
Her heart skipped a beat, but her feet didn’t falter. She called up a well-practiced smile as she turned. “Hello, Gorgeous.”
“Only as gorgeous as the company I keep.” Luke’s arm lifted from her hip. “Goddamn, I must be stunning just now,” he said, and gave his disarming grin. “What have you been up to?”
She shrugged, the initial nerves Luke always brought out slowly calming. “Oh, the usual. Waiting for the so-called good guys to wipe out me and everyone I know. Bringing about the apocalypse. Shopping.”
“Nice to see we have our priorities straight, at least. Shouldn’t you be storing Touch?” Without warning, he brushed his hand down her arm and into her pocket, then pulled out her bare hand and held it up. Luke’s friendly farce disappeared, his eyes piercing, black as pitch. “You really should have gloves on, Madeline. You’ll catch your death.”