The Belial Origins (18 page)

CHAPTER 54

L
aney followed Ralph backstage after the show. She still couldn’t believe that Drake Diablo was an archangel. She wasn’t sure what she had expected an archangel to look like, but it certainly wasn’t Liberace’s not-so-distant cousin.

Noise assaulted them as they pushed through the stage doors. Drake had a line of groupies waiting outside his dressing room—women of all ages and ethnicities. All in short dresses, all focused on getting in to see Drake
.

A group of groupies,
she mused.
Or is it a gaggle of groupies?

Laney started to settle against a wall down the hall from them, but Ralph took her by the arm and led her forward.

“Hey,” a few of the women called out as Ralph cut in front of them. Ralph ignored them and knocked on the door. He waited only a second before opening it.

Drake sat at his dressing table—one of those old-fashioned ones with dozens of light bulbs ringing it. He had two young women in very tight dresses pressed up against him.

Drake caught sight of Ralph in the reflection and raised an eyebrow. “So you’ve finally decided to take a vacation?”

Ralph grunted. “Hardly. We need to talk.”

Drake nuzzled the neck of one of the women. “Well, as you can see, I’m a little busy right now. Why don’t you try me in a few hours?”

One of the women pouted.

Drake smiled. “Actually, tomorrow would probably be better.”

The women giggled, and Laney struggled not to gag.

Drake craned his neck and met Laney’s eyes. “My, my, my, have you brought me a present? That is very considerate of you. And who might you be, my dear?”

“I’m the one about to throw up all over your dressing room if you keep talking that way.”

Drake paused—then his eyes locked onto Laney’s ring. The smile dropped from his face. “Oh, shit. You’re the ring bearer.”

CHAPTER 55

D
rake ushered the two women from his dressing room with the promise of meeting up with them later—a promise sealed with a kiss. Laney looked at Ralph, who rolled his eyes. Drake kept his bedroom expression on his face until the door closed behind the two groupies.

Then all pretense dropped. “I’d say I’m happy to meet you, but I’m not.” He turned to Ralph. “Why is
she
here?”

“
She
can speak for herself,” Laney said.

Drake ignored her, his attention on Ralph. “Why?”

“The Fallen are making a play for the tree.”

“Which one?”

Laney started.
Which one?

“Life.”

Drake let out a dramatic sigh and flopped onto the couch in the back of the room. “What a pain in the ass.”

Laney waited for more, but apparently that was the sum total of Drake’s thoughts on the subject. She turned to Ralph. “
This
is our great hope? He seems kind of useless.”

Drake laughed. “I’m trying to be.”

Again Ralph rolled his eyes. “We need to know where the tree is.”

Drake let out a lusty sigh. “Why? Why not just let them have it? Aren’t you sick of always running around on these errands? There’s more to life than duty.”

Laney gestured around the room. “This is your grand life? A Vegas show?”

“It’s hedonism at its best—and why not? I’ve done my time.” He looked pointedly at Ralph. “More than others.”

Laney looked at Ralph as well. “What does he mean?”

Drake crossed his legs on the coffee table in front of him. “Archangels who guard the tree are supposed to spend their lives in solitude, focused on their task. It’s not a lot of fun.”

Laney eyed Drake doubtfully. “
You
spent time in solitude?”

He flashed a grin at her. “And now I’m making up for it.”

Ralph simply stared at Drake without a word.

Laney couldn’t figure out the dynamic here. What were these two? Friends? Enemies? Frenemies? “So there’s no contact with others?” she asked.

“Not while on duty,” Drake said.

Laney looked around the dressing room. A red lace bra hung from a dresser along the back wall. “And now you’re… what? On vacation?”

Drake and Ralph exchanged a look before Drake spoke. “I suppose you could say that. The previous guardian of the tree is given a sabbatical of sorts on Earth after their time is up. A way to recharge after their tour of duty.”

“For how long?”

“A thousand years,” Drake said.

Laney’s eyes went wide. “That’s a lot of recharging.”

Drake waved his hand and scoffed. “Hardly.”

“That’s the length of time an angel guards the tree,” Ralph said. “But it’s more than a vacation. They’re also the backup should anything go wrong with the next guardian.”

Laney tried to imagine what could go wrong. They were supercharged beings in a hidden location. She came up blank. “Go wrong? Like what?”

“Sometimes the angels get a little bored,” Ralph said.

“Or a little crazy,” Drake muttered.

“Crazy?” Laney asked.

Ralph shrugged. “It’s happened. An archangel ventures out. Occasionally a human or two catches sight of one of us. And then the stories grow.”

“Stories?” She struggled to come up with something that would fit the idea of an archangel hanging out among humans.

“The last one was known as Karasu Tengu,” Drake said.

Laney looked between the two of them. “I have absolutely no idea who that is.”

Ralph smiled. “He’s a Japanese legend. He is said to have lived deep in the forests around Mount Fuji. He could appear and disappear in a moment. He was believed to be half-man, half-bird.”

“Mainly because of his big nose.” Drake extended his hand from his own nose. “That thing was huge.”

Ralph ignored him. “Occasionally Karasu would help find a lost child or even make someone he thought deserved it get lost—”

“Or go a little mad,” Drake said not so quietly under his breath.

Ralph nodded. “True. He did not do too well at the isolation. And he only started playing little tricks at around year seven hundred. It’s understandable.”

“So he was recalled?” Laney asked.

Drake nodded. “Yup. And I took his place. So I got part of his term and then all of mine. Fun, fun, fun.”

Laney tried to imagine Drake spending centuries on his own. She just couldn’t do it. “So how do you go from archangel to Vegas headliner?

Drake leaned back in his chair, placing his feet on top of the dressing table. “Trust me, if you spent centuries on your own, you’d be looking for a lot of human interaction too. And what better place than Vegas? The place never sleeps, there’s always new people winging through, and the weather’s a hell of a lot better than New York.”

“How long have you been here?” Laney asked.

Drake shrugged. “I don’t know—about twenty, thirty years.”

Laney’s jaw fell open. “And no one’s noticed you haven’t aged?”

Drake flashed her another smile. “It’s Vegas, baby. Nobody ages.”

Ralph grunted. Laney looked between the two of them. Ralph and Drake couldn’t be more different, and yet they were both archangels. How on earth was that possible?

She turned to Ralph. “But
you
age.”

Ralph nodded. “I’ve chosen to. I could easily choose not to.”

Drake got to his feet. “A much
better
choice, in my not even slightly humble opinion. Anybody want a drink?”

Laney and Ralph both shook their heads.

Drake walked to the refrigerator in the corner and pulled out a beer. Flipping off the cap, he took a deep drink before speaking again. “No one notices anything in Vegas. Besides, with all the plastic in the entertainers around here, no one needs a flotation device when swimming. So let’s just say that when it comes to denying the hands of time, I’m in good company. I just don’t have to pay a surgeon.”

Laney pictured the Copperfield poster she’d seen on the way in. Drake wasn’t wrong.

“Well, we need to know where the tree of life is,” Laney said.

Drake gave her a killer smile that she was sure had set legions of girls swooning. He walked over to her and traced his finger along her chin, waiting until she met his eyes.

“Absolutely not.”

CHAPTER 56

Mount Hermon, Lebanon

B
ack to where it all began
. Further questioning of Max had at last resulted in a location: Mount Hermon. Victoria had relayed the information to Elisabeta, who had only raised her eyebrows in response. A short time later, they had switched planes and headed across the ocean.

Mount Hermon—the place where the Fallen angels had originally touched down. It was located between three warring countries: Israel, Lebanon, and Syria. Elisabeta had flown them into Lebanon. From there, they’d taken two helicopters to the base of Mount Hermon.

Victoria looked out as the helicopter touched down. She had kept Max’s hand firmly grasped in hers the whole trip. She knew the tree of life wasn’t here. It couldn’t be. So why had Max led them here?

Victoria helped Max out of the chopper. Three jeeps were waiting outside. Gerard walked over to Victoria and Max. “You two are with me.”

They followed behind him. As they walked toward the Jeep, Victoria met Max’s eyes. He nodded toward Gerard meaningfully. Victoria stumbled for a moment, realizing what Max wanted her to do.

They climbed into the back seat of the Jeep, and Gerard and another Fallen—a man of Spanish descent named Hakeem—took the front seats. Victoria knew the drive would only be about twenty minutes.

Ten minutes into the journey, once she was convinced that neither Fallen was paying attention to them, she leaned down to Max and whispered. “Are you sure it’s him?”

“Yes. He can help us.”

Victoria studied the tall blond Fallen. She’d seen no inkling of kindness in him—only deference to Samyaza. But when she peered into Max’s eyes, she saw the conviction there. She nodded. “Okay.”

A few minutes later they pulled to a stop. Elisabeta’s group had arrived ahead of them and had already started down the short mountainous path to the remains of the temple. Victoria climbed out of the Jeep, feeling sore. She was not made for these trips anymore.

She took Max’s hand and tried to give him a reassuring smile. “You’re sure?” she asked one last time.

“Trust me.”

As Victoria peered down at him, she realized that she did.

Gerard came around the car. “Let’s go. We need to catch up.” He gestured for them to walk ahead of him.

Victoria did, falling in step behind Hakeem. She walked silently for a few minutes with Max beside her, debating when to make her move. Up ahead, she heard Elisabeta speaking. Her stomach clenched. There was no more time.

She slowed and fell back to Gerard’s side, then stopped.

He stopped too, and frowned. “What are you doing? Keep walking.”

She reached for his face, keeping his gaze locked on hers.

He reared back.

“Don’t,” Victoria said softly, and Gerard stopped moving.

“What are you doing?” he repeated.

She placed her hand on his cheek, feeling the energy stir inside her. “Helping you remember.”

CHAPTER 57

G
erard felt as if all the air had been sucked from his lungs. He dropped to his knees, gasping for breath. Then he inhaled, and the scenery around him began to swirl and disappear. His breath rushed back to him as the world around him came to a dizzying stop.

He looked around in wonder, holding his head. It was the same… but different. Why? What had changed?

Victoria was gone. Max was gone. Samyaza was—

He paused and squinted. There was a group on the summit, a large group—perhaps two hundred men. He rose to his feet and walked toward them.

His shoulders tensed as one of the men turned around and looked at him. Or rather, at the space he occupied. The man’s eyes glided right past him with not a flicker of acknowledgment.
They can’t see me.

As Gerard walked forward, he felt a sudden jolt of recognition. He
knew
these men. Kakabel, Aaron, Baraquel, Gadreel, Ramuel, Turel. Their names flowed through his mind in an unending stream as his eyes darted from face to face. He knew them all as well as he knew himself.

He stopped when he saw the tall Fallen who stood between Tamiel and Penume. He knew the man well. His name was Batraal.
He is me.

Gerard studied this earlier version of himself; he was confident, his back straight, his eyes focused. He was darker in this first incarnation, both in eyes and hair. But his face was much the same.

Then all the men turned, and Gerard saw one man standing higher than the others. He walked quickly forward to get a better view, realizing he could walk right through the men without them sensing him. When he reached the center of the group, he came to a dead stop.

Samyaza stood atop a rock. The jolt of recognition nearly dropped Gerard. He was so used to seeing Samyaza as Elisabeta that he had forgotten how powerful he had once been. His shoulders were broad. His long blond hair was twisted into a braid that ran halfway down his back. His eyes scanned the crowd, looking for deception, danger. This was the Samyaza who had convinced them all to fall.

And while Samyaza was their leader, the man to his right was without a doubt his primary weapon.
Azazyel.
Even though Samyaza stood on a rock, the man next to him was almost his height. He towered above the others, giving the impression of strength and violence. Where the rest of the men wore loose-fitting tunics, Azazyel wore metal and held a large spear in his hands. And even though he was surrounded by his brothers, his eyes constantly scanned for threats. His blond hair and bright blue eyes did nothing to soften his expression.

Gerard examined the two men. He had forgotten how alike in appearance they had been.

Samyaza began to speak. “We have been loyal soldiers. Always following orders, never demanding anything for ourselves.” He cast his hand down the mountain. “But look at these humans. They love, hate, cry, laugh. They choose for themselves what to do with their lives. They are not controlled. They have wives and children.”

His brothers gazed around uneasily, but more than one nodded his head in agreement. Gerard remembered how enamored he himself had been of the humans. Their lives were filled with ups and downs, and they pushed through all of it. But the most shocking part of their lives had been their joy. They found joy in the most simple of things. The laugh of a child. The first flower of spring. He remembered wondering how on earth that was possible.

Samyaza looked intently around the group, trying, it seemed, to pin down each of the two hundred with his gaze. “It is
our
turn for that freedom. It is our turn to enjoy the spoils of this planet. It is our turn to have children and family. We are owed this.”

Gerard knew what came next: the pledge. He leaned forward, eager to hear the exchange again. But the vision disappeared.

No!
Gerard screamed, but he knew that no sound left his lips. He felt like he was falling, the gray sky around him swirling in anger. Once again, he crashed to the ground, but this time a jolt shuddered through his knees at the impact.

As he closed his eyes against the pain, he felt sun on his face. He opened his eyes again in confusion. He was in a field covered in tall grasses. The sun was high in the sky, and it was warm. Birds flew overhead and he could hear a river somewhere nearby.

Getting to his feet, he looked around at the empty hillside. Soon his eyes picked up matted grass, indicating a well-worn path. He followed it, not sure where he was heading. But somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he’d been to this place before. That it had once meant something to him.

A child’s laugh cut through the air, and Gerard went still. Another child’s giggle answered it. Fear pierced Gerard, but he didn’t know why. Frantic, he scrambled to the top of the hill. Spread out on the other side lay a small village. There looked to be about a dozen tents, with livestock penned close to a quiet river. Without looking, he knew the pens held goats and pigs.

At the base of the hill, two children played—a girl and a boy, six years old.

Twins
, he knew in his heart.

The girl, Arya, caught the boy in a hug. “Got you!”

Peter turned to her with a pout. “I let you catch me.” Soon, though, the pout disappeared with a smile. Peter pointed to the sky. “Look, a falcon!”

The two children looked up, offering Gerard the first glimpse of their faces.

For the third time, Gerard stumbled to his knees. He knew these children. Grief threatened to overwhelm him.

They are mine.