Page 21 of Destined for Eternity
“You’ll both be under my supervision, so what I say goes.” Jeriel’s expression hardened. “Understood?”
Bartol resisted the urge to kick the archangel in the face. “I get it.”
Cori cleared her throat. “Are there any restrictions on Raguel’s movements?”
“He must stay in Alaska unless directed otherwise, and he should not reveal his true identity to humans. That much should go without saying.” Jeriel stood and moved closer to the front window. “I’ll provide you with a scroll listing all the details and rules when we meet again.”
“What are we supposed to do in the meantime?” Bartol asked.
The archangel shrugged. “If you hear about a demon or I send one of my guys to tell you about one, go kill it.”
“And my father? When will he arrive?”
“Oh, yes, that.” Jeriel snapped his fingers and Raguel appeared on the couch, ashen and bewildered. “He’ll still need some time to recover, but by tomorrow he should be strong enough to start training you. Keep him away from dairy for a while, though.”
Cori drew her brows together. “Why?”
“We’re lactose intolerant.”
“Huh?” She frowned. “Are you joking?”
“Sadly, no. Dairy does terrible things to our digestive systems—worse than what any human might suffer—but most angels don’t eat, so they aren’t aware of it.” He shuddered. “Wouldn’t matter that much if not for ice cream, which is nearly worth the consequences.”
Bartol tucked that information away for future use.
“Ariel has been eating dairy, and so has Kerbasi,” Cori argued.
“She isn’t really an angel anymore, and Kerbasi had digestive issues until he got used to it.” Jeriel chuckled. “He just bore through the discomfort because he likes everything with dairy. Ask Melena how bad his gases were when he first came to Earth.”
“Um, no. I’ll take your word for it.”
“You’re learning already.” He tipped his hat. “Goodbye for now.”
The archangel flashed away.
The moment he was gone, Bartol and Cori rushed to his father’s side. Raguel lay there, gaze glassy and unfocused, but he managed to turn his head in their direction. “Water?”
“Of course.” Bartol hurried to the kitchen and got a glass. When he came back, he gingerly put it in his father’s hand. The archangel sipped at first, then gulped the water down like a man who’d been in the desert for a week without it. He finished the glass in less than twenty seconds.
Handing it back over, Raguel studied his surroundings before focusing on Cori. “I see my grandchild is growing inside of you.”
She beamed. “Less than six weeks to go.”
“I am glad I’ll be here for the birth.” He turned his head toward Bartol. “Why am I here?”
“Didn’t they tell you?”
“They told me a little, but I’d prefer to hear the full account from you,” he replied, rubbing his face. His eyelids were drooping. Even a simple conversation was wearing him out fast.
“That figures.” Cori shook her head. “They just woke him and dumped him. Sorry bastards.”
“You’ve come to help me,” Bartol began.
Raguel closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m listening.”
“We didn’t get rid of all the demons as we thought and now the remaining ones are causing trouble.” He stared at his father, drinking in the man he hardly knew but with whom he’d already forged a bond. “They need our help to flush them out.”
The archangel opened his eyes, a look of understanding dawning in them. “You need to learn how to track them.”
“Yes.”
“Then we have a lot of work ahead of us.”
