Page 148 of Grave Revelations

A harp played on a phantom wind in the room's corner, where Michael sat. “What?” he asked, looking up.

Gabriel and Phanuel exchanged glances before they both turned to Raphael. He glanced between them, then stepped into Michael’s room. “Brother, we are in need of your aid.”

Michael’s golden brows dipped, a mirror to his twin in every way apart from Raphael’s sunny disposition.

“No,” he said in a bored tone.

Raphael took another step toward his twin. “It is the end, Michael. You must join us.”

Michael’s gleaming eyes darted to Gabriel, Camael, and Phanuel still hovering in the hall. “You seem well enough equipped for the challenge.”

“Would you leave our fates in the hands of the others?” Raphael asked. “It could mean doom.”

Michael stood, stalking toward his twin. “I felt it when our brother fell. The same as the rest of you. Do not treat me as a fool.” He turned, bending his single wing behind him. It gleamed in the light, brighter somehow than Raphael’s pair.

Gabriel strode into the room, tucking his wings tightly behind his back. “He was not our only enemy.”

Michael’s gaze slid to his pure wings, then his blue eyes. His lip curled, the only outward sign of his jealousy. “What do you want? What scheme have you hatched that involves me?”

“Chamuel and Sariel fell,” Gabriel explained.

“As did you. Yet here you stand. Restored.”

“They have not returned to the fold,” Phanuel said, moving to stand beside Gabriel. He, too, folded his wings together behind his back.

“I served our Father. I paid with my wing, and Father did not see fit to return it to me. My service is complete.” Michael moved to the window, giving them a full view of his back.

On one side, his feathery white wing stretched almost to the gilded floor. On the other, a dark slash bisected bronze skin. He made no effort to hide it.

“Brother,” Raphael said. “We are the only pair. It rests with us.”

Michael snorted. “Yes, the famous Gemini twins. We were so successful before, yet we only banished the Fallen from this plane. Do you think we stand a better chance against two of them when I am half a seraph?”

“We need only extinguish their dominant gift,” Raphael said.

Michael turned from the window, facing the group. His gaze swiveled to each of them, meeting their eyes. “I. Can’t. Fly!” What began as a clipped statement ended in a shout. “Get out!” He picked up a vase and hurled it at them.

Raphael spun, racing from the room. Phanuel and Camael followed. Only Gabriel remained.

Michael’s chest heaved, his eyes wild as he searched his vacant room for something new to smash. When his breathing slowed, Gabriel moved, sliding forward to place a hand on his brother.

“I lost everything, even my very sanctity,” Gabriel said. “And yet, when I found the will to fight, I was restored. Consider Father’s love before you close the door eternally.”

He turned, leaving Michael to contemplate his words.

Phanuel led them down the hall. They stopped in each arched doorway, rallying brothers and sisters to aid them. When they reached the end of the first hall, they had amassed a small horde.

Gabriel’s chest buzzed with nervous anticipation. He didn’t relish the thought of facing Chamuel. He had been his closest ally for nearly a millennium and a valiant adversary to any who challenged him. His chest spasmed again.

It wasn’t nervous anticipation. It was something else. Warmth bled from his center, leaking down his arms and middle. It reached his legs and continued south. He was bathed in warmth from head to toe. A soft humming had begun in his chest, his soul singing softly.

Raphael’s head shot to the left.

“What is it?” Zadkiel asked.

“The boat,” Raphael said, sprinting away to open the gates for newly arriving souls.

It couldn’t be…

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