No Shadows Fall (26 page)

“But—”

“But nothing. Discussion? End of.” Gabriel glared. “Killin’ Semjaza is my gig. No one else’s. How much time do we have, Adramelek? To discuss this with our choir and get back to you.”

“I would say twenty-four hours,” Adramelek said seriously. “Any longer would be pushing it.”

“All right.” Gabriel nodded. “Does he know where Ish and his kids are?”

“He’s got a fair idea, yes,” Adramelek said. “One of the holy places, but he doesn’t know that it’s Iona.”

“So where is he now, then?” Uriel demanded.

Adramelek smiled the ghost of a smile. “America. The state of Washington, specifically.”

“Where in Washington? It’s a sizable state,” Raziel asked.

“He’s by the Columbia River, in a house called Maryhill Estate. The replica Stonehenge there interests him.”

The Archangels looked baffled.

“Why there?” Raziel mused.

Adramelek shrugged. “No idea.”

“Very well,” Michael said. “You should leave now. We will contact you in twenty-four hours.”

Adramelek inclined his head. “Okay. Pleasure to meet you, your majesty.” He was gone a moment later.

Ondrass lingered. “You should take into consideration how seriously we take this situation, Michael. Adramelek didn’t make a single joke or sarcastic remark. Markus and I kept our mouths shut.” As Michael’s eyes widened, Ondrass nodded once, a curt gesture. “Be seeing you.” And then he and Markus were gone.

Raziel turned to face her, and his expression was filled with concern. “Are you all right, Lyudmila, Eleanora?”

Lyudmila smiled at him. “
Da
. Thank you for coming, Raziel. It was… I was concerned.”

Eleanora shook her head. “Concerned?
Bof
! Terrified, that is more honest.”

Lyudmila shrugged. “Maybe. All right,
da
,
da
, it is honest. They are very frightening.”

“They’re Archdemons.” Raziel moved to sit beside her. “Hell’s worst.”

She smiled wanly. “I feared for my people, Raziel. When Piotr brought the eagles, hawks, and falcons, I was terrified there would be mass murder.”

From the windowsill came a disgruntled chirp, and Lyudmila looked at the proud figure of the eagle that was perched on the cracked and splintered wood. “It is true, Piotr.”

The eagle flew to her, perched on the back of the sofa, and rubbed his head against her cheek. “I did not want to see my people destroyed by demons,” she went on, leaning into the caress, “and I did not want to see my home covered with the blood of my people.”

“I’ll make sure the place is safe,” Raziel said. “I’ll repair your window too. Then I’ll ward this entire damn building.”

“I’ll give you a hand,” Uriel said. “Oh, also? I’m Uriel. Raziel’s bonded.”

Lyudmila smiled at him. “I am pleased to meet you, Lord Uriel. I am Lyudmila, and this is Piotr, my consort, in his eagle form. This is our good friend, Eleanora.”

“The witch,” Eleanora supplied.

“
Spaseeba
to you both,” Lyudmila went on. “I appreciate this greatly.”

“Your majesty,” Michael said then with profound respect, “if you will tell me where your people congregate in large groups, I will go to those places and install shields and wards there to keep them safe from demons and Fallen Ones.”

“This is Michael,” Gabriel supplied.

Lyudmila got to her feet and curtseyed. “My lord. You honor me. All of you honor me, and you all honor my people. Thank you.”

Michael moved to her and took her hands in his own. His hands were large and warm, the skin dry and smooth. His fingers were long and delicate, and his palms were slightly paler than the rest of his olive skin. His touch was comforting and reassuring; Lyudmila found herself basking in it, wanting to hold on to his hands forever.

Michael smiled, gently squeezed her fingers, and let go. Lyudmila felt a pang as the touch ended, the blessing of it dissipating in the air. To cover up how she felt, she pressed her palms together and gave Michael a small bow.

“
Spaseeba
, most holy.”

“You are welcome.” Michael turned to Gabriel. “Let us go to ward these places from here. And then we must return to Iona to consult with the others and with Ishtahar and the boys.”

Gabriel nodded. “Right.”

“I will draw you up a list,” Lyudmila said, picking up a pad of paper and a pen from one of the shelves.

“I appreciate that.” Michael smiled at her again, and Lyudmila felt herself glow in the warmth of that smile. Michael, she thought, radiated holiness. She felt humbled and blessed in his presence. The stories her father had told her when she had been a little girl and they had sat in the Church of Saint Michael listening to mass seemed even more wonderful now that she had met the Archangel.

“And I’ll take care of the window.” Raziel stood up, waved a hand, and before Lyudmila’s eyes, the damaged wall, window frame, and glass were repaired. “There we are. Good as new.”

“
Spaseeba
.” Lyudmila bent to her task, writing down the locations she knew her people liked to congregate and meet each other. She tore the sheet of paper from the pad and held it out to Michael.

“We will do this now, your majesty.” Michael inclined his head. “You will have one less thing to worry over.”

“I am in your debt,” Lyudmila said.

“Not at all.” Michael took Gabriel’s hand in his. “Raziel, Uriel, join us in Iona when you are finished.”

“Right.” Raziel turned to Uriel. “We’ll go up to the rooftop to do this, I think.”

“Whatever you say, Razzy.”

“Goodbye, your majesty, friends.” Michael smiled.

“Thanks, guys,” Gabriel added. “See you all later, yeah?”

And then they too were gone, vanished with the sound of rustling feathers.

Lyudmila, Eleanora, and Piotr looked at each other with wide eyes, awe on their faces. Lyudmila could only imagine that her expression was a mirror of Eleanora’s.

“And we’ll go take care of protecting your home,” Raziel said. “We’ll go to Iona from there, so, if you need us in the future, just yell, okay?”

Lyudmila nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Raziel winked at her, took Uriel’s hand, and disappeared.

“Wow,” Piotr said, changing back to his human form.

“Indeed,” Eleanora agreed.

“We have been blessed,” Lyudmila said in wonder.

“
C’est vrai
.” Eleanora nodded.

P
ENEMUEL
PEERED
through his spectacles at the faded cuneiform on the parchment he and Chloe were examining. Dated to the ninth century BC, it had been found in the caves in eastern Turkey. The British Library had paid a great deal of money to buy the parchment at auction, and now Penemuel was translating it.

It was written in a rare dialect of Sumerian, which, given where it had been unearthed, was unusual. The contents of the parchment were remarkable. Penemuel bent over his work, making notes on a pad beside him as he read the words.

“So what is it, Pen?” Chloe asked.

Penemuel sat back and rubbed his forehead. “It’s old and remarkable. It tells the story of the battles of clans of vampires and werewolves banding together to fight demons before the city of Eden was built.”

Chloe’s mouth formed a perfect
O
of surprise. “But….”

“Yes, I know. It’s dated much later and written in a language that wasn’t spoken during that period.” Penemuel smiled. “I believe this to be a copy of a much older document. A means to keep the story alive.”

“So, vampires and werewolves are real?” Chloe was staring at him.

“Oh yes, quite real.” Penemuel smiled at his young friend. “Although, shapeshifters is the correct term rather than werewolves. You see, there are many different animals that the various humans with the gift of shifting become. Not that they’re entirely human, being that they shift; they fall into the category of monsters. Which is a misnomer, really, as they aren’t exactly monstrous, but the word comes out of the old Aramaic term for humanoid nonhumans, and it sort of stuck.”

Chloe continued to stare at him. Penemuel blinked owlishly at her in response.

“I’m sorry, am I boring you?” He looked contrite.

Chloe closed her mouth, then opened it again. “No. Not even a bit. It’s just, these are things you read in novels or see in the movies. And yet, here you are, reading a dead language as easily as I read English or French or Latin and talking about mythical creatures as if they’re as real as you and me.”

“Yes, well, I
am
an angel,” Penemuel said with a ghost of a smile. “Language, that is to say, writing, is my gift. It’s what I taught the humans in Eden when they wanted to learn how to write prayers for Semjaza and letters to each other.”

“Amazing.” Chloe shook her head and chuckled ruefully. “Sometimes, I forget that you’re an angel, older than this planet. You’re so… self-effacing, I suppose.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Of course not!” She reached over the desk to touch his hand lightly. “It’s just a reality check for me, that’s all. I mean, considering that we saw angels and demons during the news reports about the war, you’d think I’d be more aware of you guys.”

“Humans see what they want to,” Penemuel said sadly. “You remember what you want to. Have you ever noticed how that amazing party grows more and more amazing with every retelling?”

“We exaggerate, you mean?”

“In part. But mostly, the human memory is tied to imagination, and your imaginations soar and embellish because of that. You all love stories. And you are all stories in and of yourselves. A wonderful species, you humans are.”

“Thank you, kind sir.” Chloe grinned at him. “So, what else does the parchment say?”

“Hm? Oh yes, right.” Penemuel returned his attention to the faded words. “It talks about Uriel going to fight with the clans and killing many demons. It says that afterward, he burned the dead, not out of respect, but because he liked to burn things. Then it says that Raziel came and put limits on the fire just in case. It says that Raziel and Uriel were lovers, which isn’t really news. Then it talks about how Michael came and brought food and medicine for the wounded and thanked the clans for their help, and blessed them, before returning to the main forces of angels that Gabriel commanded.”

“Uriel and Raziel are lovers?” Chloe was gaping again, Penemuel realized.

“Yes?” Penemuel blinked at her owlishly.

“Isn’t that sort of… against the rules?”

“Why would it be?” Penemuel was puzzled.

Chloe waved a hand vaguely. “I don’t know. I guess I assumed that you guys didn’t do that sort of thing, that you don’t have genitalia or anything.”

Penemuel laughed. “Dear Chloe. If we didn’t, how would we have had children with human women?”

She frowned. “I forgot about that.”

“We were punished for that—those of us who did take wives and have children. The children were called Nephilim, and they were half-breeds. Gabriel killed them, most of them, anyway.”

“Did you have children?”

“Me? Only one, and that was accidental. I didn’t know what would happen, which seems foolish of me, I suppose. In any event, the crimes I was punished for didn’t involve procreation, as I was unaware of the consequences of fornicating with a woman. I gave knowledge of writing and reading to humans before they were supposed to have it. They were supposed to earn it themselves. I sort of skipped several thousands’ years of evolution by giving it to them in Eden. Very naughty of me.”

Chloe snorted.

“In the end, it didn’t matter. After the expulsion from Eden, after Gabriel’s slaughter of the Nephilim and imprisonment of Semjaza, after Michael’s imprisonment of the rest of us in Hell, Uriel took Noah and
his family and two of every living creature onto his boat, and unleashed
the great Flood of Noah to wash the Earth clean.” Penemuel sighed. “I suppose water washes away a multitude of sins.”

Chloe smiled sadly at him. “It’s all very painful for you, isn’t it,” she said, and it wasn’t really a question.

“It is a little, yes.” Penemuel smiled back. “But Raziel’s given us the means to redeem ourselves, so that makes it much easier to bear.”

At that moment, his cell phone rang, and Penemuel quirked an eyebrow. He pushed his spectacles up his nose and answered the phone.

“Pen, you’re not going to believe this.” It was Baraqiel.

“Probably not, no, but tell me anyway.”

“Semjaza’s gone to America. He’s setting himself up in a place called Maryhill.”

Penemuel frowned. “Where’s that?”

“It’s in Washington state on the edge of the Columbia River. The estate house sits on a cliff overlooking the water. It’s a beautiful place. But what really caught his attention is the replica Stonehenge there.”

“A replica Stonehenge?” Penemuel was astonished. “What good is a replica?”

“Apparently quite a bit. Ko took a look at the charts and the layout of the place, and the ring’s on top of the cliff, overlooking the river, down from the house. Positioned as it is, it fills the requirements for magic of the elements—earth, air, fire, and water. The star charts show that it’s aligned with Aquila.”