Uriel's Descent (Ubiquity #1) (24 page)

He looked wounded, but something about it wasn’t sincere. He brought a foot to rest between hers. “We’ve shared a lot. You know me.”

Yeah, she did. Even without a voice whispering in her ear, she saw flashes of their encounters. His assumptions. The information he kept from her. His indifference for Ari’s fate. More.

She tried to be subtle about taking a step back. Could she keep her distance and still win his trust? “Why is it so important I make a decision now? We have eternity.”

“I’m worried about losing you. I’ve seen you with Michael. What if someone else wins you over?” His form flickered, tendrils of ethereal strength flowing in.

“If it’s my choice, it’s my choice with anyone.” Something flitted through her, and she recognized two sources of power. But Metatron kept what she had locked away from Ronnie, didn’t she?

“It’s not like you’ve had a use for it.”

Metatron was back. Sulking time was over.

“Miss me?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

Gabe twisted his fingers in Ronnie’s hair, tugging enough to tilt her head back. He traced her ear with his lips. “Where did this lack of trust come from?”

Whatever hold he had over her in the past was long gone. The need for charade wasn’t. She forced herself to smile. “Maybe we need to step back a little.”

“This is a dangerous game.”

“It’s the most effective approach I can think of.”

“Not arguing, just trying to keep this shell intact for when I have my shot at it.”

Gabe’s grip tightened, pulling on her scalp. He grazed her earlobe with his teeth, and his voice was a soft growl. “That’s not up for discussion. We’re doing this my way.”

“No we’re not.”

Ronnie didn’t share Metatron’s confidence, and the threat made her hesitate. What was she thinking? She wasn’t powerful enough to take on a fucking original. Gabriel. Vengeance. Ronnie was just a minor demon desk jockey. “I think coming here was a mistake.” She tried to break away and failed.

“I think you should hear me out.” His breath was hot against her skin. Holding her head at an awkward angle, he slid his free hand under her shirt, and crawled his fingers up her back.

The tantalizing sensation of his touch was gone, leaving only revulsion in its place. She made a more concerted effort to break free, no longer worried about convincing him she cared. Panic swept through her when she failed. She wasn’t strong enough to take him on, could she talk her way out of here? “You haven’t said anything new yet.”

“Don’t let him scare you.”

Easier said than done. Ronnie tried to draw power from within. To use the same tactic she did with Ari. But she failed. Michael stepped in and saved her in the end, and Gabe was far more powerful and experienced than Ari. Ronnie couldn’t do this.

“We can.”

He twisted his foot, forcing her to widen her stance and making her balance precarious. He pinned her to the front door of the coffee shop. “This isn’t a negotiation, regardless of what you think. I’m done playing these games.”

“Do it now.”

The only thing Ronnie wanted to do was get the fuck out of here. She grasped what she was looking for, and hoped Metatron would back her up. “Leave. Me. Alone.” She shoved from within, summoning everything she could, and focused on sending him to one place and her to another.

Cool air rushed in to soothe her flushed cheeks when she appeared in Michael’s guest room. Ronnie didn’t want to be here, but given that she pissed off someone powerful, she didn’t think anywhere else was safe. Besides, she couldn’t stand any longer. Gasping with relief at being away from the threat, she dropped to her knees. She felt weak and relieved and terrified and powerful. But most of all, acid churned in her gut and threatened to evict any remainder of her breakfast.

“I need to lie down.”

Ronnie didn’t have the strength or will to argue. She flopped onto the bed. Rolling on her side, she pulled her knees to her chest and tried to process what happened. She didn’t know what she should be thinking, but she wanted to pick a specific emotion to make things simpler. Forcibly removing Gabe and sending him somewhere he might not want to be left her drained. Where had she sent him, anyway? Away from her, that was all that mattered.

“Are we wallowing again? Do you ever get sick of that?”

Ronnie banished an original from her presence.

What was she supposed to do if not dwell on it? Would he come after her? She
was
safe in Michael’s condo, right? Even if she wanted to do something else, she was too exhausted. Not only that, but she rejected and pissed off her one chance at maybe, possibly, splitting Metatron from her without destroying one of them.
Fuck.

Red numbers glared at Ronnie from the clock on the nightstand. Just after three a.m. Perfect. Not. She was pretty sure being wide awake at this time of night was a bad idea twenty-four hours ago. Whatever drained her when she sent Gabriel away—the overload of information, the physical expulsion—she’d recovered. Her brain moved a million miles an hour with no answers, and she wasn’t going back to sleep any time soon.

At least, given the late hour, she could probably avoid Michael. Not that avoidance would be an option for much longer, unless she found another place to stay.

“Or, you know, if you’d just stop being stubborn and let me out.”

Ronnie was glad she kept Metatron at bay one more day, but was so not in the mood for her. Ronnie padded from the guest bedroom and made her way to the balcony. Fortunately, it was easy to move without a sound on the plush carpet. She slid the door open and stepped into the night. The smoke was gone from the air, and while the stars weren’t as bright as the streetlights below, they still held her attention.

She stretched and tried to work some of the tension from her neck. Her discomfort wasn’t physical, but she needed to do something. She reached up to rub the invisible knots instead.

“Let me.” Michael’s voice startled her. He covered her hand with his. Contentment whispered through her, carried on uncertainty. She couldn’t delve into this, but it was comforting. She leaned back into him, relief flooding her when he didn’t pull away. He kneaded his fingers into her neck and shoulders.

Metatron didn’t know it yet, but she wouldn’t be a part of Ronnie much longer. When Ronnie found a suitable vessel, she was pretty sure Michael would change his stance on
I only see you when I look at you.
“We shouldn’t go down this road.” Ronnie hated saying the words.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.” She was grateful he couldn’t see her sad smile. “This whole existence thing is a drain sometimes. How have you lasted so long?” His attentions chased away her tension and silenced Metatron’s irritation. She wanted to wrap herself in the security, but couldn’t convince herself this was more than a single moment.

“You just do.” Michael stopped kneading, and slid his hands down her arms until he intertwined his fingers with hers. “I talked to Lucifer.”

*

Michael wanted to say
I don’t know
when Ronnie asked how he’d lasted so long. Instead he plucked out the one name he knew would be a mood killer. He needed that right now. Anything to maintain a neutral conversation. To stick to his resolution to keep Ronnie at a distance. Not that he was doing a great job of that right now.

“That makes two of us.” Her voice was flat.

He couldn’t help his chuckle. “Did he have anything interesting to say?”

“Not really.”

Michael wasn’t surprised. There was more to this than a couple of angels stealing cherubs and Ronnie holding a power older than the earth. Those were big enough on their own, but Lucifer knew more. Michael rested his forehead on the top of her head. “He came to visit the morning after I ran into you in hell.”

“You mean Monday? Two days ago?”

Was it really only a couple of days? He swore he aged lifetimes since then, and that was saying a lot for someone who didn’t age. “Sounds about right.”

“Did he have anything interesting to say?” She mimicked his question.

“That you weren’t Metatron. To walk away from you.” His laugh was bitter. Michael knew it was a lie, even then, but it hid so much more. Except it was true. Ronnie wasn’t Metatron. “You never really knew how she died, did you?”

Ronnie didn’t answer.

He squeezed her hands. “I was supposed to meet her that night. I was early, but not early enough. When I got there, she was already dying.”

She shuddered. “And Gabriel was already there.”

“Yes.” The single word carried more grief and guilt than he thought possible. “His story was that she was plotting to destroy us all, and he had to act before it happened.” The air conditioner kicked on in the background, blending into his quiet story. “You have no idea how hard that was to believe, but we didn’t deal with things like office politics and double-talk back then. Why would he lie?”

Regardless of how far in the past it was, the moment still haunted him.

“He didn’t mean for you to find him there,” she said.

He tightened his grip on her hands at the information. She did know.

“He meant to frame you. If it looked like you did it, she’d be gone, you and Lucifer would take each other down, and he’d be the only one left.”

No. Gabriel wouldn’t… Michael tried to reconcile the information. It wasn’t right. But he knew better. Gabriel would. He’d never made it a secret he thought he could do this better as an individual than group. Always hated sharing the glory of being an
original.

Michael kissed the top of her head. “I guess I have always known that.” He let go of her hands and turned her to face him. “I’m sorry you got caught in the middle of it. I’ve said this before, but if you believe one thing, out of this whole mess, I hope it’s this. You and Metatron aren’t the same person. She was stunning and brilliant and one of us.”

Pain flashed across her face.

He didn’t say the words to hurt her, but she had to know. He kissed her on the cheek, struggling to ignore the comfort that seeped into him and hoping to convey apology. “But you… You’re just as beautiful, just as intelligent, and completely your own person. You see the world in a way I forgot was possible. You’re not one of us because you’re the most unique thing I’ve ever seen. She never had that kind of reverent awe for life. I don’t know if I would have stayed if she was here instead of you. I’m glad I stuck around long enough to get to know you. I’m sorry it can’t be longer.”

That wasn’t how he meant to finish, but as he spoke, he knew it was the only solution. He phased from the balcony. He should tell her goodbye, but it was too much. Distance would help. She’d grow and become more, and he’d do what he was made for—help people achieve their potential.

He reappeared in the hospital, outside Izrafel’s room, and was startled to find Lucifer already there. “I didn’t know you two were friends.”

Lucifer gave him a dry smile. “I know everyone.”

“How is he?”

“Not good.”

Michael wished there was more he could do. That wasn’t his place, though. “One more favor?”

“You want to open a tab?” Lucifer’s tone was flat, almost exhausted.

“Something like that. But this time I’ve got an offering in return.” He pulled his keyring from his pocket and held it up.

“Aww. You got me a hybrid car. You shouldn’t have.” Even Lucifer’s sarcasm was flat. Had this really worn them all down so much?

Michael tossed the keys at him. “I’m leaving. Out of
her
life, though I realize it’s not soon enough for you.”

“And dumping the Ubiquity clusterfuck on me?”

“It’s your project. But no. More like I’m taking a demotion. Remote work.”

Lucifer sighed. “That’s what you were doing before.”

“Except now, I’m looking for more like Ariel. Give the keys to Ronnie,
please
. Tell her the place is hers until she can get established.” He turned to leave. He’d rather use the front door right now. He was about to spend a lot of time in the ether, and wanted to appreciate Earth a little longer.

“Michael.” Lucifer’s voice stopped him, but he didn’t turn. “Good luck.”

* * * *

Michael was gone, leaving an empty void in the room to keep Ronnie company. His words echoed around her. If he meant the kindness to reassure her, it didn’t work. Since he left anyway, it made the hole in her heart more obvious. Her chest throbbed, and she blinked back unexpected tears. Where was this coming from? She knew—pretty much from the first time they really talked—there would never be anything between them.

At least he didn’t walk away from Ronnie because of Metatron. Ronnie sniffled and rubbed the back of her wrist across her eyes. She still wasn’t sure she understood his reasons. Immortal beings without the restrictions of heaven and hell—what Ari became—were dangerous. Falling in love? Or at least experiencing a heavy dose of lust? Apparently it hurt a lot when it ended, but it wasn’t in the same league.

Despite trying to tell herself she was better off without that in her life, she still wanted him to stay. She couldn’t ignore the selfish bits of her that already ached from his leaving. She’d see him around, right? He was cutting her off, but there was still work to do. Would seeing him every day make things easier on her or harder to accept?

She stood there, trying to make sense of her thoughts, until the sun peeked over the horizon. Was there even a point in going to work? Her entire world was stripped away.

“So… My turn now?”

No. Fuck that. And why wasn’t Metatron torn up about this? Ronnie tried to swallow her grief and failed.

“Because he left you, not me. Part of you knows that.”

Taunting was the last thing Ronnie needed. If she couldn’t have her past, she’d build her future instead. The resolution didn’t reassure her the way she wanted, but if she could dive into it, maybe she could ignore how much losing Michael hurt, at least for a little while.

Ronnie didn’t need Metatron knowing what she was up to before she finished. Ronnie rolled the idea over in her head. If she could figure out how to get that spear, she could shove Metatron into it. Not permanently, but long enough to get her away from Ronnie and find her a new place to stay.

She desperately needed something to take her mind off the finality in Michael’s tone.

She wandered into the guest bedroom and grabbed her phone off the nightstand. Probably too early to call Gabe. Then again, the bastard all but assaulted her, and for all she knew, waited for a chance to finish what they started. Did she really care about waking him up?

Yeah, she did. If her plan was going to work, she needed to make him think she was sorry long enough for him to trust her.
Fuck.

The phone buzzed in her hand. She jumped and then laughed at herself for being startled. It was a text from Lucifer.
It’s Izzy.

“No.”

Metatron’s reaction echoed Ronnie’s. She didn’t message back for details, just phased to the hospital room. Lucifer stood outside the door, back against the wall, arms crossed. He frowned when he saw her.

Ronnie wanted to ask a million questions. What was he doing there? How did he know to come? Why did he let her know? Only one thing rushed to her lips. “What’s wrong?”

He wouldn’t look her in the eye. “They don’t know.”

“You do.” Ronnie wasn’t going to listen to his bullshit. A new kind of fear coursed through her. Not like when she faced off with Ari or Gabe, but for the man in the other room.

“He’s having a hard time adjusting. He’s so weak, and he has to heal on top of getting used to mortality. He might not make it through the day.”

Ronnie’s heart sank, and she bit back a sob.

He nodded at the door. “No one’s going to stop you, if you want to see him.”

She wouldn’t have waited even if he told her no. She slipped into the room. Izzy lay in bed, head sunken into the pillow. His chest rose and fell slowly, and a steady beep filled the room.

She crossed over to him without a sound, in slow motion, not seeing the world for what it was. If only she recognized who Ari was—a power hungry bitch willing to betray the world for her own desires—or what Ronnie held in time, she might have kept Ari away from Izzy. Or maybe Ronnie could have just kept her mouth shut and not provoked Ari, and the angel would still have her cherub and wouldn’t have touched him. This was Ronnie’s fault.

She stroked the back of his hand, grief and powerlessness filling her thoughts. He was so gaunt and fragile. And he didn’t deserve to be here. In a way, she blamed Ari, but Gabriel drew her into it. Promised her something he shouldn’t have. Showed her an existence none of them were meant to live.

Rage rushed in to replace sorrow, and fury filled every inch of her. Fucking originals. They weren’t any different from any other agent of heaven or hell. Lucifer did this for so long, he didn’t know when the truth was an asset. Michael operated independently, terrified of his own feelings or getting close to someone the way he had Metatron. Gabriel was a bitter, lying asshole. And Metatron wasn’t any better, except she was locked away with her own thoughts for millennia.

Ronnie was tired of playing by their rules. She wanted Metatron out of her head, and she wanted her own life.