Airs & Graces (34 page)

Adelaide pulled herself in next to me, hiding in the protection of my wing.

“Touching. Almost reminds me of my first wife,” Penemue taunted, standing and moving aside as more and more of the Grigori forced us back towards the Hellmouth and the Nephil’s grip.

“Nothing like the same thing,” I spat back at him.

The enchantments came faster, and I could feel them trying to sap my strength. I shielded Adelaide, as most things that could affect me could do far worse to her. I managed to buy us a few more seconds, cutting down another of the Grigori, but it was no use. I couldn’t jump elsewhere, Gabriel could do little but crawl back to the ranks, and Adelaide’s visions would be no help. I was forced backwards one more step, and impossibly strong fingers tried to get a hold of us.

“Adelaide…”

“Tab, I’m so sorry! I’m sorry…”

“Don’t.” The words were partly cut off as I strained against the grip closing around us, to keep it loose enough she could breathe. I lightly touched the side of her face. “It’s okay. I’ll be okay. You need to find Haziel.”

“You mean…” she was struggling harder to breathe now. I had an idea, but I had to get the words across to her first.

“Haziel. Remember it. West Livingston, death row. Go there, find him. He’ll help you.”

She was struggling still, but with less strength than before. Still, she managed, “Why?”

“Because… he, too, is an Angel who fell in love with a mortal.”

I was anchored. But I still had the power, so I sent her away, flinging her blindly from me using every ounce of my power I could spare, back towards Uriel, back towards Raphael, where she would be safest. I hoped Gabriel would find her again in the fight and help her afterwards, before Lucifer got to her. It was all I could do. The hand drew me back through the Hellmouth, and the Grigori started to follow, their trap sprung, with no more need to risk themselves with Michael and the rest. As the hand pulled me back, the giant bringing me in to see what he’d caught, I readied myself.

I was in Hell, again. I had the keys. But Adelaide was safe.

Chapter Eleven

Adelaide

“Tabbris!”
I screamed as I flew as if flung by another giant hand, the likes that gripped him. Back, back, impossibly back, until I crashed into Uriel, who grunted. His bow dropped, forgotten as his arms closed around me. His wings snapped out, and we spiraled, gliding in a lazy, dizzying circle toward the floor.

“Hold on,” he commanded, like I could do anything else, and I realized I had indeed been struggling frantically in his grasp. I closed my eyes against the vision of Iaoel laughing hysterically in my mind’s eye, and with pure, cold, fury I
hurt her.
I twisted my mind and my heart and my rage and crushed the bitch as hard and as fast as I could. Exerting my will like never before, until it was blessedly still inside my head. I got the distinct impression that she hadn’t expected that, and she had no idea – she hadn’t seen anything out of me yet.

Uriel touched down and bent his knees and my Docs met the solid, if blood-slicked, concrete. The denizens of Hell were pouring back through the portal, and I lurched in Uriel’s arms, trying to go after them, to go after Tab.

“Let me go!
Let. Me. Go!
” I shouted but struggling against Uriel was like struggling against a pair of frozen vice grips.

“You must let him go, Child! You cannot save him!” Raphael cried, and his bronze armor filled my vision as he stepped between me and the retreating horde. I kicked out, and he neatly sidestepped me, a look of pure, sweet, sympathy on his beautiful face.

“No!” I wailed, and my voice dripped with despair.

“It’s all right. You’re safe.” Uriel’s voice vibrated up my spine, and I sagged in his grip, gasping, sobbing, as I watched the portal close. He let me go then, and I fell to my knees and let the fear and pain and grief of losing Tab swallow me for the moment.

Gabriel, one arm protectively around his middle, dropped onto his ass beside me and put a hand on my back, a gesture meant to soothe, but all it did was bring it home that Tab was really gone. Bad time for Michael to march up all imperiously, look down on me with a cold, aloof expression, and demand, “Girl, give me the keys.”

I lost my shit. I didn’t even care. I bounded to my feet and threw a mean right hook and connected solidly with the lead Archangel’s face. His head snapped to the side, and I was vaguely aware of Gabriel or maybe Raphael crying “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” before the steel bands of Uriel’s arms went around me and hauled me back, while I was shrieking every obscenity I knew at Michael.

“Fuck you! You son of a bitch! You want the keys so goddamned bad? Go get them! Go get him back! Otherwise you can sit and spin for all I give a damn, you happy bastard! You hear me! Do you hear me? You can rot, the lot of you, for all I care! Just get him back! Get him back!”

“Enough of this!”
Michael bellowed, and the entirety of the underground chamber shook from the force. I threw my arms up around my head and curled forward in on myself, and Uriel set me on my feet once more.

“Give me the keys!” Michael demanded again, and I looked him right in the eye and spit in his face. His hand lashed out, and he gripped my by the throat, lifting me clean off my feet and into the air. The other three Archangels were shouting.

“Michael!”

“Mike! Put her down!”

“She’s lost, Michael, you have to understand… put her down, brother!”

“You want your keys so fucking bad? Go get them, asshole. I don’t have them. I never did.
Tab has the keys!
And you just let him get dragged off to Hell!” I gripped Michael’s wrist with both my hands, and we stared at one another for a heartbeat, then two, then two more before he dropped me. He stalked off a couple of paces and let out an angry bellow. The floor shifted under our feet, and the sound of rock cracking and falling began to fill the vast, dank chamber.

“Uh, oh. Gotta go,” Gabriel remarked from his place on the floor. “Who’s got the juice?” he asked.

I blinked and shielded my eyes from the sudden brightness of the sun. We were in the same positions as in Chernobyl, except now we were out under a clear blue sky, in a flowered meadow. The little white and purple blossoms waving, in among the tall grass.

“Ohhhhhh!” Gabriel groaned, and flopped onto his back from his sitting position. He panted from pain, and Raphael went to him, kneeling to one side. He placed his hands over Gabriel’s wound, and they began to glow with a soft white light, as the Archangel of Healing chanted to himself under his breath. Uriel bent at the waist and came up with his bow out of the wavering grass. The tranquility of the setting was completely ruined by the glowering head Archangel, fixing me with his angry glare. I didn’t care. Not one bit. I gave Michael as good as I got.

“We have pulled Tabbris from Hell once. We shall do it again,” he declared judiciously.

“Yeah, well, good luck with that,” I said acidly. “Lucifer
let
you do it last time. I don’t think he’s going to be so accommodating this time.”

“What’re you talking about Cupcake?” Gabriel asked from flat on his back in the grass.

I filled them all in, about what was said during my last encounter with
the
Fallen of the Fallen, back at Auschwitz. For long moments after I finished speaking, the only thing that could be heard was the breeze swishing through the grass.

“I want him back. I’m willing to do whatever it takes, so please, for the love of God… tell me there’s a way,” I pleaded, swiping at some stray tears with the heel of my hand.

“Michael,” Gabriel started, but the big Arch held up a hand cutting him off.

“We will rest, take this back to our house. Let cooler heads prevail,” he said, and in a flash I was standing back in the baroque bedroom we’d left that morning… alone.

***

I showered and redressed in my next-best pair of sturdy jeans and a fresh black workout shirt. I raided the backpack, which was just where I’d left it, and left everything in my messenger bag intact. I would need it later. I knew I would need it later.

Iaoel was sulking in some forgotten dark corner of my mind, and I didn’t give two fucks about it. She could sulk all she wanted, but there would come a point where she would get off her ass and help me. I didn’t know how, or what, or when, or where, but I had a fire inside over getting down there and getting Tab out. I wouldn’t hesitate to hold her fucking feet to the flames to get what I wanted either.

Showered and dressed, I drifted aimlessly throughout the room, finally plucking the book Tab had been reading the night before off the little round table.
Dante’s Divine Comedy.
I snorted.

“You have got to be joking…” I muttered to myself. It was an English translation, so with a great sigh I settled into the chair and began to read. What else was there to do in this gilded cage? I roused myself hours later and sighed into the gloom of the room. There were no windows in here, and I was sick of sitting on my ass while the Archangels did God knows what. I figured it was high time I tested the security measures, beyond caring about how much more than a sting I might get if I tried to leave the room. I tucked the book into my messenger bag, next to Piorre’s journal and stood.

I strode across the room with purpose, hesitating for just a moment with my hand on the door handle before taking a fortifying breath and turning it downwards, pulling it open.

“Oh Jesus!” I cried, jumping, putting a hand to my chest. Raphael smiled down at me politely.

“Not quite what you were expecting?” he asked, amused.

“No, I wasn’t sure what to expect, Gabriel said trying to meander might hurt last night. Wasn’t sure if the same principle applied today or not.”

“Ah, well, it does not. At least not now that you have calmed down.”

I looked him over and raised my eyebrows. He was in a comfortable pair of worn light jeans stained with dirt and plant juice, the frayed cuffs mostly hiding his bare feet. He had on a faded light green tee shirt on that hugged his chest and biceps and his long hair hung down his back and in loose tendrils around his face as if he had just hastily tied it back while he’d been working. I swallowed nervously. I had a feel for Gabriel. The rest of the Archangels were a total mystery, but Raphael and Uriel had seemed nice enough… when they weren’t all up in it drinking Michael’s Kool-Aid.

“So, uh, you want something?” I asked, and Raphael blinked. He had just been staring at me with this pleasant little smile the whole time I’d stood there measuring him up.

“Yes, your presence, at dinner. Michael would like to speak with you.”

“I’ll just bet he would,” I grumbled under my breath, and Raphael frowned. It still managed to be sympathetic, all things considered.

“He really isn’t that bad, you know… Very driven, yes. But he has a myriad of other qualities that I think you could mutually appreciate about one another. All things considered, you’re very similar the two of you.”

“What do you mean? Bullheaded?” I asked.

Raphael let out a surprised laugh and smiled at me, and he was almost boyishly handsome. I stepped out of the room, and he stepped aside, letting me. I closed the door behind me and let him lead the way. He tried to take my hand, and I jerked mine back out of his grip.

“I’m not a kid, and I doubt I am going to get lost,” I said, and I knew it came out both bitter and caustic. Raphael’s features softened.

“I only wish to give you comfort,” he said quietly.

“Sorry, not used to it, and I’m cool… really.”

He nodded and led me through the house, down the front stairs, and into a dining room. Uriel and Gabriel were already seated, and Raphael pulled out a chair for me, to the left of the head of the table, across from Gabriel, who smiled at me from his female persona.

“Hey, chick,” she said, and I gave her a brave little half-smile.

“Scale of one to ten, one being ‘beige… I think I’ll paint the ceiling beige…’ how fucked am I?”

Gabriel laughed. “Couldn’t say, Cupcake. We’re all just going to have to wait to find out.”

Michael apparently wanted to make an entrance, because he kept us waiting for a long time. It gave me a chance to check out the rest of the Archangels to see if I could figure out their mood, take their temperature so to speak. Gabriel was dressed like a high-class hooker again, while Uriel was dressed similarly to Raphael in frayed jeans and a comfortable tee shirt.

When Michael finally did deign to grace us with his presence he was dressed the same as I had first seen him, in a suit and wingtips. He went for the head of the table, sat down, and fixed me with a hard look.

“What?” I demanded. “You going to sit there and mean-mug me all night, or are you going to say something useful, so I can get a move on already?”

The three other Angels all did their best to suppress their smirks, except Gabriel. Who am I kidding? She was smiling like a loon.

“I suggest you watch your tone, mortal…” Michael said imperiously. I opened my mouth to ask him if it looked like I gave a fuck, but I closed it again.

“Look, he saved my ass more times than I can count, so I owe him, and I want to go get him, and he’s not Fallen or whatever – he’s one of the good guys – and he has the keys, so help me. Please? I’ll do whatever it takes.”

I fixed Michael with a level look and waited for him to fuck me, to fuck Tab over. His shoulders dropped slightly, and he sighed out, looking to Gabriel. Gabriel raised her eyebrows and Michael looked to Uriel who shrugged one massive shoulder… some kind of silent communication was going on between them and all I could do was sit there and huddle miserably, wrapped in my hurt, waiting for some kind of decision from them.