Page 13 of Wicked Savior
“I caught a glimpse of her in the aether,” I confirm, reluctant to give him a description. Disturbed by the thought, I shove her green eyes out of my head. “He was definitely following a woman. Why?”
“None of the higher ups seem to know why he was here,” he reveals. “He wasn’t on assignment.”
My back straightens. “Every move they make is dictated to them. Not one of those generals would do anything that wasn’t sanctioned by someone above. Killing a human only comes from the highest levels. It must have been a secret assignment. But who would dare?” A brief flash of hope passes through me, but I quickly tamp it down.
He raises a shoulder. “They found traces of a human female beside Balith’s body. Some were quick to dismiss her, but others thought she could be relevant. I tried to find out more but couldn’t hear without getting closer and spooking the elders.”
“She’s absolutely relevant,” I confirm. “Now, we have to find her before they do. Go back and put them under surveillance. Try to get a name or something.”
“They’re gone,” he reveals, a strange look on his face. “It was really fucking eerie, too. One minute, we’re all standing in this dank, dirty alley together. The next minute, they all look up and vanish, taking Balith with them.”
Satisfaction flares in me. “They were recalled. Someone at the top is pulling strings and trying to keep this quiet. This is the best news I’ve heard all day. It means something big is going on.” My mind immediately starts working the angles, trying to figure out what my next move would be if I were trying to keep this quiet.
“If it were me, I’d handle it myself,” I conclude out loud.
Vargas blinks, but then a slow smile spreads across his face as he catches onto my train of thought. “We need to slip a spy into every corner of that city. Even if they can’t see them, a high-ranking angel will be felt the second they land. We can use the vibrations to pinpoint their location and, hopefully, find the human.”
I summon General Ishkova and give him the orders to disperse our spies.
“Don’t engage, but if you can get to the human before they do, that would give us significant leverage,” I tell him.
With a nod, he vanishes.
I look over at Vargas, and my smile dies. He’s frowning down at his translucent body. “Good work, Vargas. Nobody else would have been able to get the intel today. Let Ishkova take the lead now. You need to find a body. I have a feeling we’re going to need you corporeal sooner rather than later.”
He flashes a wry half smile, then disappears.
When he’s gone, I close my eyes and listen to the whispers of the dark. The shadows are restless. Change is here. My blood pumps with excitement. It’s been a while since I felt this invigorated.
* * *
Unable to settle,I shove aside the remaining books and wait quietly in the lingering firelight. Here, in the capital of Underworld, the palace is shrouded in darkness. Perpetual night. The seat of my power and the place where most of my worshippers live.
But the majority of my power doesn’t come from the denizens of this world. My predecessor chose to rely on the power he gleaned from his worshippers and sin. I wanted more. While I certainly benefit from worshippers and sin, the bulk of my power comes from free will. Millions of acts, small and large, feed my source of power. Choose the donut over the carrot? A lie over the truth? Hate over forgiveness? Thank you. Those grains of sand add up. An unending supply of power at my disposal for eternity.
A vibration in the air is the signal I’d been unconsciously waiting to feel. Inhaling sharply, I focus on Ishkova and follow the path to his side. When I appear, he doesn’t even blink. Nor does he turn his eyes my way. Instead, they’re fixed on something in front of him. Hate, fear, and a twinge of wonder shine from their depths.
I follow his line of sight and the world falls away.
A tall, familiar man in a navy-blue pinstripe suit stands in front of the gorgeous red-haired woman from the alley. Her head is tilted sweetly to the side as she listens to the words coming out of his mouth.
I snort. He’s intentionally made himself visible to her. For what purpose, I’m not sure.
With jet black hair and the usual blue eyes, humans often mistake him as one of their own. Charming. Approachable. His deceptively reassuring aura never fails to lull even the most hardened of souls into believing he has their best interests at heart. Something he takes great pride in telling all the angels under him.
Utterly lethal, he’s anything but human. One of the original seven archangels, and preferred messenger to the one he serves, he’s Gabriel. Modern day Christians believe him to be nothing but a messenger. I scoff. He’s The Messenger, but he’s so much more, too.
One of the original four Watchers, he’s second only to Michael in terms of hierarchy, and he’s one of two who has the right to wield The Power. Fanatically dedicated to defeating evil, his legions of angels follow his every word and command. But most of the power he wields is not his. It belongs to the one he serves.
The blood coursing through my veins turns molten with rage. Once I called him brother, friend, and warrior. Now, I call him one name—The Betrayer.
She must have good instincts because she steps back, putting space between her and Gabriel. Or maybe she sees the same fanatical glint in his eyes that I do.
He unsheathes his sword.
Between one breath and the next, I appear between him and her. My sword meets his in a clash of power, deflecting it away from its target. The resounding ring of the two striking repeatedly is music to my ears. For several minutes, we battle against each other, neither gaining nor losing ground. Even though he wields a godlike power, so do I. My own.
Over a thousand lifetimes, I’ve waited to face him again. When I pictured our meeting, it was on the battlefield. On Judgement Day. A fight to the death. His death.
