Uriel (Speed Dating with the Denizens of the Underworld #39)

Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

Uriel

The world dissolves into a kaleidoscope of light and sound, my power surging through every fiber of my being as I wrap Emilia in my arms and will us away from danger. For a moment that stretches into eternity, we exist everywhere and nowhere, our very essence scattered across the cosmos.

Then, with a rush of displaced air, reality snaps back into focus.

We materialize in a spacious living room, my legs buckling slightly from the strain of the teleportation. Emilia clings to me, her face buried against my chest, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. I tighten my hold on her, as much to steady myself as to offer comfort.

“It’s alright,” I murmur, my own voice sounding distant and strained to my ears. “We’re safe. You can look now.”

Slowly, Emilia lifts her head, her wide eyes taking in our new surroundings. We’re in what appears to be a penthouse apartment, all sleek modern furnishings and floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of a city skyline I don’t immediately recognize.

“Where are we?” Emilia whispers, her grip on my shirt loosening slightly as the immediate danger passes.

Before I can answer, the sound of shattering porcelain breaks the silence. We both turn to see a woman standing in the doorway to what appears to be a kitchen, the remains of a salad bowl scattered at her feet. She’s tall and lithe, with skin the color of burnished copper and hair that seems to shift between deep maroon and midnight blue as she moves. Her eyes, a startling shade of brown, are wide with shock and a hint of fear.

For a long moment, we all stand frozen, staring at each other. Then the woman’s lips part, and I brace myself for the scream I know is coming.

But instead of a cry of terror, she calls out, “Rafa! We’ve got company!”

The use of my brother’s nickname sends a jolt through me. Surely it can’t be...

“Coming, love!” a familiar voice responds from deeper within the apartment. “Did you drop something? I heard a crash and?—”

Raphael rounds the corner, a dishtowel slung over one shoulder and a look of concern on his face. He stops short when he sees us, his eyes widening in a way that would be comical under different circumstances.

“Uri?” he says, disbelief coloring his tone. “What in the name of all that’s holy are you doing here?”

I open my mouth to respond, but the woman beats me to it. “You know them?” she asks, her posture relaxing slightly but wariness still evident in her eyes.

Raphael nods, moving to stand beside her. “The stuffy-looking one is my brother, Uriel. The Archangel of Chastity,” he adds, a hint of his usual mischief creeping into his voice. “Though given the way he’s holding that lovely young woman, I’m starting to wonder if he’s considering a career change.”

I feel heat rise to my cheeks as I realize I’m still holding Emilia close. I loosen my grip, but don’t let go entirely, some protective instinct unwilling to break contact completely.

“This is Emilia,” I say, choosing to ignore Raphael’s comment for now. “And we’re here because... well, it’s a long story. One that I think we’d all better sit down for.”

Raphael’s expression sobers, recognizing the gravity in my tone. He nods, gesturing towards the plush sofas arranged around a low coffee table. “Of course. Make yourselves comfortable. Helena, love, would you mind putting on some tea? I have a feeling we’re going to need it.”

As we move to sit, Raphael’s eyes light up with recognition as he stares at Emilia.

“My favorite troublemaker,” he exclaims, his tone warm and familiar. “I should have known if Uri was breaking rules, you’d be involved somehow.”

Emilia laughs, some of the tension leaving her shoulders at the sight of a familiar face. “Dr. Angelstone… I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you’re part of all this too.”

Raphael grins, winking at her. “Please, it’s just Raphael here. No need for formalities.”

I glance between them, momentarily thrown by their easy rapport. “You two know each other well, I take it?”

“Oh, Emilia here keeps me on my toes at the hospital,” Raphael says, his eyes twinkling with devilry. “Always pushing for better patient care, even if it means bending a rule or two. I can see why she’s caught your eye, brother.”

My face grows warmer still, but Emilia just chuckles, settling more comfortably beside me on the sofa. “I had no idea you were an angel too,” she says to Raphael. “Though I guess it explains how you always seem to be in the right place at the right time during emergencies.”

Raphael shrugs, a playful smirk on his lips. “What can I say? I’m just that good.”

As we settle in, I notice Emilia’s gaze darting between Raphael and me, a look of amused disbelief on her face.

“You okay?” I murmur, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

She nods, a small smile tugging at her lips despite the lingering tension in her posture. “Yeah, just... processing. I thought I knew Raphael from work, but seeing him like this, as your brother ... it’s a lot to take in.”

I can’t help but chuckle at that. “Few things about Raphael are as one might expect. Though I’m beginning to think the same could be said for you...”

Emilia’s smile widens a bit.

We settle onto one of the sofas, Emilia pressed close to my side. Raphael takes a seat across from us, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his expression wavering between curiosity and concern.

“Alright, Uri,” he says. “What’s going on? It’s not like you to drop in unannounced. Literally.”

I take a deep breath, wondering where to even begin. “The world is in danger, Raphael. More danger than it’s faced since the Great Flood.”

Raphael’s eyebrows shoot up. “That’s quite a statement, brother. What exactly are we talking about here?”

“The apocalypse,” Emilia says softly, speaking for the first time since we arrived. “Or at least, the potential for it. The barriers between realms are weakening. Hell is... leaking, for lack of a better term.”

Raphael’s gaze sharpens as he turns to Emilia, really seeing her for the first time. “And you know this how, exactly?”

I feel Emilia tense beside me, uncertainty flickering across her face. I give her hand another reassuring squeeze before addressing my brother. “Emilia is... special, Raphael. She’s part of a prophecy, one that might be the key to stopping all of this.”

“A prophecy?” Raphael leans back, running a hand through his hair—a gesture so human it momentarily throws me. “Oh, Uri. What have you gotten yourself into this time?”

Before I can respond, Helena returns, carrying a tray laden with a steaming teapot and an assortment of cups. She sets it down on the coffee table, then perches on the arm of Raphael’s chair, her silver eyes moving between Emilia and me with undisguised curiosity.

“So,” she says, her voice carrying a hint of an accent I can’t quite place. “Are you going to introduce us properly, Rafa? Or should I just keep calling them ‘the stuffy one’ and ‘the pretty human’ in my head?”

Raphael chuckles, wrapping an arm around her waist. “My apologies, love. Helena, this is my brother Uriel, Archangel of Chastity—though as I mentioned, that title might be up for debate.” He winks at me, and I feel my cheeks heat again. “And this is Emilia, my coworker, and apparently now part of a world-saving prophecy. Uriel, Emilia, this is Helena. My partner and the light of my existence.”

Helena rolls her eyes fondly at Raphael’s flowery introduction. “Charmed, I’m sure,” she says, a hint of sarcasm in her tone. “Now, what’s this about the world ending? Because I had plans this weekend, and I’d rather not have to cancel them for the apocalypse.”

Despite the gravity of the situation, I find myself fighting back a smile. I can see why Raphael is drawn to her—she has a spark, a vitality that complements my brother’s more laid-back nature perfectly.

“It’s a long story,” I begin, but Emilia cuts in.

“Actually,” she says, a hint of steel in her voice that makes me glance at her in surprise, “before we get into all that, I have a question.” She turns to Helena, her gaze direct and unwavering. “What exactly are you? Because I’m getting the distinct impression that you’re not entirely human.”

A tense silence falls over the room. I hold my breath, worried that Emilia’s bluntness might have offended Helena. But to my surprise, the woman throws back her head and laughs, a rich, melodious sound that seems to lighten the very air around us.

“Oh, I like her,” Helena says, grinning at Raphael. “She’s got spirit.” Turning back to Emilia, she gives a little mock bow. “You’re right, darling. I’m not human. Not entirely, anyway. I’m what you might call a half-breed. My mother was human, my father... decidedly less so.”

Emilia leans forward, fascination overriding her earlier wariness. “What do you mean? What was your father?”

Helena’s smile turns a bit wicked. “Well, since we’re all being so honest here... he was a demon. One of the higher-ups in Hell’s hierarchy, in fact. Which makes Lucifer my dear uncle.”

Emilia stiffens beside me, her grip on my hand tightening almost painfully. “Lucifer?” she whispers. “As in, the Devil?”

Raphael sighs, shooting Helena a reproachful look. “Love, perhaps we could have eased into that revelation a bit more gently?”

Helena shrugs, unrepentant. “Why? It’s the truth. And from the sounds of it, we don’t have time for gentle revelations. Not if the world really is ending.”

Her words snap us all back to the gravity of the situation. I clear my throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “Helena’s right. We don’t have time for niceties. The situation is dire, and we need all the help we can get.”

Over the next hour, Emilia and I take turns explaining everything that’s happened—the prophecy, the earthquakes, Azrael’s visit, and our encounter with War. As we speak, I watch Raphael and Helena’s expressions shift from disbelief to concern to outright alarm.

When we finish, a heavy silence falls over the room. Raphael is the first to break it, letting out a low whistle. “Well, brother, when you decide to break the rules, you certainly don’t do it by halves, do you?”

I feel a flash of irritation at his flippant tone, but before I can respond, Helena speaks up, her voice uncharacteristically serious.

“Wait, go back a bit,” she says, leaning forward intently. “You said it was War behind all this? As in, the Horseman?”

I nod, a sense of unease growing at the intensity of her gaze. “Yes. He’s trying to overthrow Lucifer’s earthly rule, to trigger the apocalypse and reshape the world in his image.”

Helena sits back, her face a tapestry of emotions too complex to unravel. “Well,” she says after a moment, “that complicates things.”

Raphael turns to her, concern etched on his features. “Helena? What is it?”

She sighs, running a hand through her hair. “I... may have some inside information on War. Information that could help us.”

We all lean in, hanging on her every word. Helena takes a deep breath, then continues. “You see, War and I... we used to date. A long time ago,” she adds quickly, seeing Raphael’s eyes widen. “It was nothing serious. Just a bit of fun, really.”

“You dated War?” Emilia asks, her voice trembling with equal parts awe and disbelief. “The Horseman of the Apocalypse?”

Helena shrugs, a hint of her earlier nonchalance returning. “What can I say? I had a rebellious phase. And he was... intense. Passionate. Of course, that passion extended to destruction and chaos, which is why it didn’t last.”

Raphael makes a strangled sound, something between a laugh and a groan. “Only you, love, could so casually mention dating one of the most powerful and dangerous beings in existence.”

Helena pats his knee consolingly. “Don’t worry, darling. You’re much more my type. Less ‘rivers of blood’ and more ‘healing hands,’ if you know what I mean.” She winks, and I have to look away, feeling like I’m intruding on a private moment.

“As... fascinating as this is,” I interject, trying to steer the conversation back on track, “how exactly does this help us? Do you know of a way to stop War?”

Helena’s expression turns thoughtful. “Not stop him, exactly. But I might know a way to send him back to the Underworld trenches. It’s risky, though, and it would involve getting help from someone none of us particularly want to deal with.”

“Lucifer,” Emilia says softly.

Helena nods. “My dear uncle might be a pain in the celestial backside, but he’s got power and influence that could be useful. Especially given that this whole mess is partly his fault.”

I frown, not liking where this is going. “And how do you propose we get Lucifer to help us? He’s not exactly known for his altruism.”

A slow, mischievous smile spreads across Helena’s face. “Oh, don’t worry about that. I have a plan. But it’s not something we can discuss on an empty stomach. Why don’t you two stay for dinner? We can go over the details while we eat.”

Raphael’s eyes light up at the suggestion. “Excellent idea, love! I’ve been experimenting with a new carbonara recipe that I’ve been dying to try out on unsuspecting victims... I mean, guests.”

Emilia and I exchange glances, curiosity and apprehension flickering between us. After a moment, I nod. “That would be... most appreciated. Thank you.”

“Wonderful!” Helena claps her hands together.

As we disperse to our assigned tasks—Raphael to the kitchen, Helena and Emilia to set the table—I find myself at loose ends, uncertain of my place in this domestic scene. The sound of Raphael’s phone pierces the comfortable chaos, and I watch my brother’s brow furrow as he checks the screen.

“It’s Gabrielle,” he announces, accepting the call. “Hey, sis. What’s up?”

We all halt our movements, and I feel tension creep into my shoulders at the mention of our sister’s name. Raphael’s face shifts as he listens, his eyes darting to me. “Yeah, Uriel’s here. How did you—?” He pauses, listening. “Oh, I see. Okay, I’ll tell him. Take care, Gaby.”

When he turns to me, I already know what’s coming. “That was Gabrielle. She says she’s fine in Paris and that you’d explain. Care to fill us in, brother?”

I sigh, running a hand through my hair—a distressingly human gesture I seem to have picked up recently. “It’s... complicated. I’ll explain later.”

Relief washes over me at Gabrielle’s message. At least now I know she’s safe, even if she’s trapped across an ocean by powers beyond her considerable abilities to counter.

As I watch Emilia and Helena arrange plates with easy familiarity, as if they’ve known each other for years instead of hours, I’m struck by the strange turns my existence has taken. For millennia, I’ve stood apart from such mundane moments, observing but never participating. Now here I am, about to share a meal with my brother, his half-demon partner, and a human woman who has somehow managed to upend everything I thought I knew about myself.