Uriel's Descent (Ubiquity #1) (6 page)

Ari’s smile flickered before she hid it behind her coffee cup. “See?”

“Yeah, I get it.” Ronnie didn’t completely. She still couldn’t articulate what made her not capture the cherub, but her conflicting thoughts kept her from acting.

Without warning, the chair next to them was occupied. Even seated, the new arrival, who phased into the chair as quickly as any shift Ronnie ever completed, was at least six inches taller than her. Standing, the height difference would probably be closer to a foot. His blond hair was pulled into a ponytail at the base of his neck, but his goatee was jet black. Odd combination, but it worked on him.

“Hello, handsome. Long time no see.”

The greeting made her grit her teeth, and lit her caution censors on fire. How did Metatron know someone Ronnie didn’t?

“Same way I know Michael. Except this gorgeous angel didn’t murder me.”

He gave Ronnie a wide-eyed glance before he turned to Ari. “I thought you were busy this week.”

She leaned back in her chair, posture casual and relaxed. “Someone earned me the afternoon off.” She nodded at Ronnie. “This is who I was telling you about. Ronnie, this is Gabriel. It’s his coffee shop.”

An original. Of course. One took her on as a student—which apparently no one did, one acquired a job at Ubiquity just to see her, number three lived in her head, and now the fourth studied her as if she was under a microscope. What made her so special?

“Me.”

They didn’t know a crazy dead angel lived in her head.

“Just Gabe.”

“I thought originals didn’t shorten their names.”

“You’ve been talking to Michael.” He almost made it sound like a bad thing.

“Yes.”

“I have the utmost respect for him, but I’ll warn you now. He tends to be a bit old fashioned. Michael doesn’t shorten his name—or anyone’s. No one else really has issues with it.”

Oh. Should she know that? She didn’t like the embarrassment flitting through her, especially since she was pretty sure the lack of knowledge wasn’t her fault, so she shifted her attention to Ari. Who, in sharp contrast to the submissive, almost worshipful posture in Michael’s office, looked relaxed and at home here.

Gabe offered his hand in greeting. The instant Ronnie’s fingers brushed his, warmth pulsed through her. It tossed away traces of exhaustion, leaving her feeling as if she just awoke from the best sleep of her life.

“Whoa.”
Even the voice was faint.

God,
that was amazing.

He raised his eyebrows. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of his mouth before he pulled away. “So you’re what hell’s turning out these days.”

Was that an insult or a compliment?

“Who cares? Did you notice he’s kind of sexy?”

Of course she had. She wasn’t stupid.

“Are you sure?”

Ronnie focused on the new—she could only describe it as energy—flowing through her, and returned the smile. “Apparently.”

He traced his gaze over her face. “Is it true you don’t remember anything before Ubiquity?”

At least he got straight to the point.

Her pulse increased, heat flooding her skin under his scrutiny. But something about him tickled her memory. “That’s not much of a secret.”

“I’d like to help. I’m glad you let Ari bring you to see me.”

“That was easy.”

The word
help
triggered hope inside. Lucifer told Ronnie he’d look into it, and her memory should come back on its own, but never suggested more than waiting it out. Would she finally get answers here? “So you’ve seen this before?”

“It’s rare, but it happens. Every once in a while, when an agent takes on a physical form, the shift from quasi-mortal clashes with their heads. It’s like their spiritual body doesn’t know how to meld into a new shape.”

He better have more than that. More substantial than the same crap she’d already been fed. Especially since, unlike everyone else, she didn’t have any problems shifting between her two forms.

“So I won the amnesia lottery. Go me.”

“Something like that. I’m surprised Lucifer hasn’t done more.” There was no trace of mocking in his voice.

Even though his words echoed her thoughts, defensiveness surged through her. “He’s tried.”

“I’m sure.” For the first time since he appeared in the room, Gabe sounded less than convincing. “But having someone else on your side can’t hurt. Is there anything else you can tell me?”

“She has a voice living in her head, and she’s too big a pussy to either obliterate me or step aside and let me have control.”

Wait. Ronnie could obliterate her? How would she do that?

“I’m not giving you that answer.”

Because Metatron didn’t know. If she did, she would have done it already. “I don’t remember or know enough to say if anything else about me is unusual. Is there a list of symptoms or something I can look for?”

“Have yo—” A single glance from Gabe, and Ari clamped her lips shut, jaw clenched.

That wasn’t odd at all.

“At least you’re paying attention. I like you sarcastic.”

He turned back to Ronnie. “Not really. That’s why I need to know anything and everything in order to help. Even if you don’t think it’s significant, I might.”

“I really like ice cream. Is that unusual?” This wasn’t getting her anywhere. She knew it was too early in the conversation to be giving up, but she was spinning her wheels again. “Why would you help me? I’m not one of yours.”

“In the beginning we were all His creations, and in the end, we’re all His creations. Just because you call a different place home doesn’t mean you deserve any less respect.”

“He’s an idealistic sap, but it’s kind of charming.”

She wasn’t going to agree. There was no way she was giving a voice in her head that satisfaction.

“You can’t lie to me any more than you can lie to yourself. Actually, it’s probably harder for you to lie to me.”

Whatever. Ronnie rested an arm on the table and leaned in. For a brief moment she considered telling him about the voice. However, unlike Lucifer and Izzy, she barely knew Gabe, and she didn’t want his first impression of her to be she was crazy. “I can’t think of anything specific, but I promise I want to try.”

The three of them spent the next few hours talking about work, life, hot vacation spots, and pretty much everything random. Gabe occasionally prodded Ronnie with a question he might as well have summoned from nowhere-ville. Things like: had she ever visited the Middle East, how did she feel about cherries, and did she prefer silk or wool?

The conversation was nice, but she didn’t feel any closer to answers when it was all over.

* * * *

Ronnie picked another green pepper off her pizza and added it to the growing stack on the side of her plate. Ubiquity bought lunch for the monthly staff meetings, a nice gesture. It made perfect sense too, since a bunch of borderline sensory junkies worked for them. What better way to willingly bring together a group of beings who found joy in the simple task of eating?

One by one, management called the names of the people with the top capture counts for the month. Five angels, including Ari, all ranked high enough to be recognized.

Ronnie had two problems with these assemblies—or rather, what they represented. Since this was only her third staff meeting, and she already recognized these flaws, she was curious how they escaped everyone else’s notice. First, if someone was last to the meeting room—as she was today—that person got the pizza no one else wanted. She eliminated another vegetable.

Her second issue tied back to the cherub in Gabe’s coffee shop yesterday. How many more were still out there courtesy of Ari passing them over? And if she was ignoring cherubs, how was she consistently getting top recognition? Ronnie already knew why no one was asking. Prying into
was the system rigged
meant deconstructing the one thing so many of them looked forward to. This job.

Not only that, but how was Ari getting so many legitimate pings? She averaged one every other day. Ronnie was lucky to identify one a week, and she was never wrong when she picked one to go after. Was Ronnie that bad at identifying them in the queue, or was Ari that lucky?

Not that Ronnie begrudged her the success. When Ari dropped back into the empty chair next to her, the congratulations were genuine.

“Thanks.” Her smile was flat. She tossed her reward certificate in the middle of the table and turned her attention back to her pizza.

A sliver of self-satisfaction trickled inside Ronnie. Maybe she wasn’t the only one who saw the ridiculousness in this ceremony after all. “At least you get free sugar out of it.”

The corners of Ari’s eyes tugged up, and she held up the gift card to a local ice cream parlor—the only real bonus to these events. “Good point. Want to go with me after work to spend this?”

“Of course.” Ronnie pushed aside the rest of her food. She wasn’t going to suffer through cold remnants of wilted veggies and weak sauce with the promise of desert nirvana waiting.

“Did you think any more about what Gabe said?” she asked.

Thought about it, was frustrated by it, and rolled the entire conversation over and over in her head until she was dizzy. There still didn’t seem to be a solution wrapped in his words. “I guess.”

“Is there anything else you can tell him?”

Ari never expressed interested in Ronnie’s missing memory.

Not that she minded the concern, but the out-of-nowhere bit of it caught her off guard. Maybe she was reading too much into it since no one really tried to help before. “Nothing.” It was hard enough to tell Lucifer she was hearing a voice. As kind as Gabe appeared yesterday, he was still mostly a stranger, and she wasn’t willing to share that much information with him.

“You care what he thinks? Or are you just worried he might be more interested in talking to me than you?”

Ronnie cared about not being labeled insane.

Ari drew her lips into a thin line as she studied Ronnie. “You’re sure? What about what happened with that fighter?”

“What about it?” The question set off more miniature alarms in Ronnie’s head. Ari told her the fighter stuff was status quo, and Ronnie didn’t tell her how she won the fight in the end. Or rather, that it hadn’t been Ronnie who fought back.

“Nothing.” Ari shook her head. “We should probably get back to work.”

Something was off about the conversation, but Ronnie couldn’t place it.

“Because you’re not trying hard enough.”

“Or nothing’s there, and a stupid voice is making me paranoid.”

Around them, everyone stood, tossed away their food, and broke into small clusters to chatter and try to waste another five or ten minutes before they logged back into the queue. Regret mixed with sadness twinged through Ronnie. Ari was just trying to help, same as Gabe. Telling them everything would increase the odds of that happening. So why couldn’t she bring herself to do it?

“I’m starting to wonder if you even need me here. You’d probably talk to yourself even without me around.”

She certainly wasn’t stopping Metatron from leaving.

“Ha ha. If only it were that easy.”

“So you do know more than you’re telling me.”

“I didn’t say that,”
she replied.
“Just that I know it’s not easy. Believe it or not, I don’t want you here anymore than you want me in your skull.”

Ronnie ignored the bitter taunt and the part of her that agreed, and made her way back to her desk. At least she had ice cream to look forward to after work.

Pings rolled into her queue one after another as soon as she logged in. Dud after false lead after not-even-close scrolled by. As she rejected each one, she wondered again how Ari and the other top performers landed so many captures.

Another ping. She hovered over the
Pass
button as she scanned the details. She jerked the mouse cursor to a neutral part of the screen as she continued to read and process. There wasn’t anything specific, but the undeniable tingle racing through her told her this was a hit.
Score.
She clicked the
Capture
button and grabbed her purse off her desk. Time to see the world.

She was far enough into her training; taking Ari with her was optional. A request she could make if the situation concerned her. The tingle humming under Ronnie’s skin demanded she
do this alone.

Right before she phased, she sent Ari a quick text:

Off to Israel, back in time for ice cream.

Nervous apprehension flitted through Ronnie as her surroundings melted into narrow streets, towering buildings, and more stars than she’d seen in a single place. She stared up at the sea of black sprinkled with a gazillion sparkling white dots. So gorgeous.

It took her a moment to pull her focus back to the task at hand. Why was she here in the middle of the night? Or whatever time it was? She checked her phone: 2:00 a.m. Perfect. Not. Where was she supposed to find her target if most people were sleeping?