“If he did…this city would be purged and replaced with individuals from Eden II without hesitation,” He searched for jasper eyes who might be spying. “Abe knows it, and he wants to avoid that outcome at all costs.”
“No. Michael has to know, Uriel, it’s not right for you—or Gabriel—to keep it from—“
Reaching out, Uriel grabbed Beriah by the collar, interrupting his words in a flash of black wings raining with embers and pulling him off his heels until their eyes were as connected as day and night.
“How about you stop ass-kissing for five fucking minutes and listen,” Beriah squeezed his wrist, but his grip didn’t wane, and Orion wisely stayed out of it. “No one can know about Leah or the Gates, Beriah. Not unless you want to carry the blood of an entire population on your hands for all eternity.”
He must’ve sounded serious enough, must’ve channeled every ounce of sovereignty in his blood because Beriah’s expression softened and he was listening. “Michael likes to believe that the greater good is burning a rotting husk to save the crop, and we both know that Old Testament-style bullshit can’t go on with humanity evolving. They’ll notice. And if they notice, Legion will too.”
The light of Uriel’s eyes had shattered, losing to shadows that filled his gaze with black flames and giving life to the warrior that lay dormant within him.
It was clear Beriah and Orion didn’t trust him, they never would, but they’d be damned fools to believe the Sovereign of the Hierarchy would think twice about wiping a city clean to prevent the Gates from releasing their own masters.
If Michael finds out…my chances of redemption will be burned with this city.
After several moments, Uriel convinced himself to put Beriah down gently—or as gently as he could manage with fury still burning heavy in his eyes; a mixture of irritation and desperation. And the urge to kill them both to was needlessly picking away at the conscious he unfortunately still had.
Of course, those internal flames dulled when he came to his good senses.
With a small inhale, Uriel spoke. “And I figured someone should at least know about Leah’s death and mourn her, even in silence.” He glanced at Orion, who watched him cautiously and nodded once himself.
His gaze returned to Beriah, whose dark eyes held tiny storms in contrast with his calm expression, which was countered by closed fists fighting to keep the feeling of instability from spreading.
Beriah nodded, but he couldn’t accept Leah's death, it was something that never came easily; they healed—they were possibly reincarnated. Yet, here she was, drained of blood and half-eaten, a dead shell missing a soul.
“You two,” Upon facing them, their attention was all his. “Return to the Hierarchy and tell Abe about Leah, but only him. If I 'm going to figure out what’s going on, the last thing I need is our Sovereign breathing down my neck, and Abe is the only one left with any trust in me.”
They said nothing, but their mixed expression mentioned uneasiness and sorrow.
Orion spoke first, cutting through the quiet. “Should we take her with us?”
“No, she belongs to the alley now.” It was a cruel comment, but a necessary one; Leah’s slaughtered body reeked of demons and darkness, a smell Seraphim knew like the taste of a favorite tea.
“Are you…sure?” Beriah asked, desperately trying to find a fault in Uriel’s presence—an uncertain shift or tense expression—anything that would give any reason not to believe him.
But Uriel knew better and kept his calm. “I am.”
Both angels, troubled and doubtful, unfolded their wings in a beacon of light that cleared the shadows and stung Uriel with envy and he watched them lift into a hover.
Orion left the alley first, but Beriah turned to him for a breath of a moment; distrust, suspicion, every expression that made Uriel regret not taking more physical measures crossed his face.
Then, those dark eyes softened just before Beriah joined his companion.
Heh, so you are afraid. That’s good.
He’d have to apologize to Abe later, knowing he’ll be furious when he finds out Beriah and Orion have been informed about the Gates, but even more so if he found out that all the effort and trust he put into helping Uriel restore his name was done in vain. So, he’ll have to rely on Abe one last time to keep them quiet and out of Michael’s ear.
Somewhere in distance, strange noises began to fester.
A rat—of flesh and bones—hissed in fear at Uriel’s presence, turning tail and fleeing, a predictable reaction to someone like him. The chill in the air dampening the smell of trash and wet puddles reflecting neon, and slowly, a feeling moved through him. The disgusting body of an emotional entity that fed off the comfort he felt among these city sensations tinted with sin.
In a spread of wings, fallen feathers turning to ash and embers, he lifted into the air and left the alley.
The city’s nightfall glow falls through a thousand panes of glass that reflected one another to become a sea of light, it hummed distant noises and pulsed with life; both mortal and malevolent. The gray-heavy sky snarled with a crack of lightning, and he ascended, higher and higher until he touched the storm. His wings opened wide and he looked down at human-made stars.
And smiled.
If he held his cards close and played them right, the reason for this inner-city war would reveal itself to him; the face the one who killed Leah, whose death would be avenged—and used.
He would find this hidden assailant, but before cutting them down, he would thank them.
He’d bow to them, grateful that the spill of their blood and the weight of their head would be gifted to Michael, who in return, will return him everything he’d lost; the title, the power, the respect.
Ah, but they were still a problem.
Astaroth. Sraosha, and Naberius.
Three Demon Masters who sat as living embodiments of the gateways to Legion. Through them souls found eternity, they found caliginosity in the form of pleasures no human should ever experience or long for, and there they would meet Legion in the flesh.
Their presence marked this city, damned it as a hunting ground, and no doubt the past few weeks—possibly months—have been overcome with headlines regarding missing people. Demons seeking souls to please a layer of masters, and now those demons were being slaughtered.
And they're well aware of it.
A sliver of excitement hummed through him, bringing a taste of blood and steel he licked up with a slow run of his tongue.
One thing was certain, Michael wouldn’t forgive what Abe accepted, and what the others tried to forget; that Uriel was the only one meant for this hunt as he was the closest thing to a demon the Hierarchy had to offer.
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