Chapter Four
Archer followed Ezekiel as he rushed down the street, barely able to keep up with the statuesque man who moved with an impressive gait.
“Hold up! What about my car?”
Archer chuckled at the irony of him willingly trailing behind Ezekiel instead of being coaxed to do his bidding. Ezekiel paused then turned to face him. His jaw dropped then he rushed to Archer’s side.
“I apologize, dearest. A message came through from Cassiel that Uriel is waiting for us in the Square near the library.”
Archer snorted. “At least Colonel Mustard didn’t do it with a candlestick in the study.”
Ezekiel pinched his eyebrows together. “I don’t understand.”
“Welcome to my world. Hey, wouldn’t it be easier to drive?”
“Your vehicle is down the street in that parking garage. Then, we’d have to find another spot, possibly driving in circles for who knows how long. Humans…”
he mumbled. “Anyway, it’s quicker to walk.”
Archer muttered under his breath about wasting his time with lunatics. When he lifted his gaze, he noted that Ezekiel’s expression had softened.
Ezekiel sighed. “I suppose I’m not being very understanding of the abrupt circumstances you’ve found yourself under. And my sense of humor seems to be on vacation as well.”
He sighed. “If you truly knew what we’re all facing when it comes to this evil plaguing the world, this would be easier for you to accept.”
“Exactly.”
Maybe the guy was finally getting it through his pretty skull that the morning’s events were a lot for him to unpack. “Everything else aside, if I’m as important to you as you claim, I need to be kept in the loop. Cassiel, Uriel… none of that means anything to me. Nor does why we’re in such a rush to get to the library.”
Archer tilted his head. “And I don’t remember you calling anyone…”
His gaze roamed Ezekiel’s frame. “Or that you even have a cell. Did you know all along that’s where we were heading, and you had us hanging around that coffee shop for no reason?”
Ezekiel grabbed his arm, and the electric zing that had initially shocked him was now a pleasant hum. Not only that, but the urge to touch Ezekiel back was almost overwhelming.
Almost.
He wasn’t about to give in to this wacky nonsense so easily.
“You are important, don’t ever doubt it.”
Ezekiel offered him a soft smile. “I’ll admit I’m startled by the morning’s events as well. Battling the shadow gargoyles, healing fellow slayers from the torturous attacks of the rogue demons is a typical day for me. But finding my fated one…”
He lowered his head. “I was beginning to despair of ever finding him. I hadn’t realized my kill quota had been met.”
“Excuse me?”
Archer tugged Ezekiel out of the way of the other pedestrians, who didn’t appear amused by them blocking the middle of the sidewalk. They took refuge in the entryway of an apartment complex. “What do you mean kill quota? Healing fellow slayers?”
Archer planted his hands on his hips. He hated functioning in mystery. “I’m seriously getting irritated with this whole mess. If you can’t keep me clued in, I’m outta here. Let me know how it all turns out.”
Archer turned to march away, and Ezekiel grabbed his arm again. Okay, so maybe he’d been hoping that’s what would happen. Maybe the idea of a man as decent and handsome as Ezekiel wanting him was rather appealing. But he wasn’t kidding about being kept in the dark. He despised not knowing what was going on.
“I understand,”
said Ezekiel. “I do. I don’t care for being left out, either. But there is an urgency here. I’ll give you every detail you want when we’re safely back at the lair. For now, though, I’ll say that we don’t use many modern tools, such as a phone. We communicate telepathically. As far as healing goes…”
Ezekiel gave him a lopsided smile. “That’s something we have in common. I’m responsible for healing those who’ve been injured in battle, or need other medical help.”
Archer arched his eyebrows. “You’re a doctor?”
“I suppose that’s how you would view my role, yes.”
Archer rubbed the back of his neck. “Interesting. Do I want to know what you mean by kill quota? That doesn’t quite vibe with the whole healer thing.”
“Hmm. Yes”
Ezekiel nodded. “I can see how those two things might seem at odds with each other. Just bear in mind that as a slayer, I have a duty to eliminate the evil. WE’ve all been given a kill requirement by the Divine Spark before we can be mated, and I wasn’t aware I’d reached my quota yet. But as a healer, it is my role to tend to my injured colleagues.”
“Okay. That makes sense. At least in the context of your world.”
Archer patted Ezekiel’s back. “See? That wasn’t so hard. Now I’ll be less bitchy.”
Ezekiel's eyes widened slightly at Archer's touch, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I appreciate your patience, Archer. And your... bitchiness, as you put it, is quite understandable given the circumstances."
They resumed their brisk walk towards the library, weaving through the bustling sidewalks of Boston. He wanted to quiz Ezekiel as to why they weren’t calling an Uber instead of tromping down the street, yet he welcomed the opportunity to ponder. He was begrudgingly ready to admit that he believed Ezekiel for the most part. However, that didn't mean he was ready to go all in until he witnessed more to support his supposed mate’s story.
Ezekiel paused beside a particularly grotesque statue perched on the corner of the Square, its stone eyes giving the impression it was following their movements.
“Getting tips from your cousin?”
Archer quipped, trying to ignore how his body was inexplicably drawn to Ezekiel, like a compass needle to the north.
Ezekiel smirked. “Something like that,”
he replied as he closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, his expression turned serious. “When I explained I needed to remain alert, I wasn’t only referring to a visual assessment. My spirit must keep tuned in as well. Whether it’s a fellow slayer sending out a warning or the enemy nearby, we can’t afford for me to falter.”
After another moment in seeming contemplation, Ezekiel brushed his fingers across the back of Archer’s hand. “Come on. Uriel’s waiting.”
Archer swallowed hard, a flash of wanting to clasp Ezekiel’s hand in his consuming him before he shoved it aside. But as he trailed after Ezekiel again, something else built in his core. A desperation, the impression that if he didn’t do something right away, all would be lost. Whatever it was, the sensation grew more intense the closer they drew to Copley Square.
Archer matched Ezekiel’s hurried stride. “So, this Uriel we're meeting,”
Archer began, slightly out of breath as he tried to keep pace with him. “Another one of your supernatural buddies?”
Ezekiel barked out a laugh. “Hardly. Uriel is an archangel, one of the highest ranking in the celestial hierarchy. He's been tasked with guiding and protecting humanity since the dawn of time.”
Archer nearly tripped over his own feet. "An actual angel? Like, with wings and a halo?"
“The wings, yes. The halo... well, that's a bit of artistic license humans have taken over the centuries,”
Ezekiel replied with a wry smile.
“Come on," Ezekiel said, placing a hand on Archer's shoulder, his touch now more than welcome. "We're meeting at the bottom of the library steps. That’s where the Slayer, who was tortured by the rogue demons, was taken last night. It means the relic is nearby.”
Archer’s gut tightened more, his heart racing as soon as Ezekiel mentioned the relic. Suddenly, he couldn’t wait to get to the bank to see what was inside the safe deposit box. Archer found himself glancing around the area, suspicious of anyone approaching them. Deep down, he’d accepted the truth of Ezekiel’s story. Something in his spirit told him this was all too terrifyingly real.
Right as they reached the bottom of the steps, a man materialized from behind a weeping willow, like a guardian angel who’d traded in his halo for leather and attitude.
“Hello Archer, Ezekiel.”
He turned to Ezekiel. "The distraction is set. Slayers will keep any unwanted company at bay while you retrieve the relic."
Archer cleared his throat, not sure how he should greet an archangel. The strange pull returned with a vengeance, an intuition gnawing at his gut when Uriel had spoken. He moved closer to Ezekiel.
“Uh, hi.”
Uriel fixed him with his gaze, the gray eyes seeming to pierce right through him. This time he did clasp Ezekiel’s hand. “And the relic is there for sure?”
“It knows you're coming," Uriel’s expression remained unreadable. “Trust your instincts.”
His usual snark and cranky repartee failed him in the face of something much bigger than himself or the life he’d once inhabited. Archer finally understood there was no going back.
“Yes, sir.”
Ezekiel squeezed his hand and Uriel stared at Archer a beat longer before turning to Ezekiel again. “After you have the relic in your safekeeping, return to the lair. Malachi will meet you there, and once it is safe, so will Darius and Cassiel. As Sentinel, Malachi will travel with you to the council gathering for the official transfer of the relic.”
While Archer had been comfortable grilling Ezekiel, he didn’t have it in him to smack-talk an archangel. Once they were out of the celestial being’s presence, he’d ask for more clarification about lairs, council gatherings, and other people - or gargoyles - that were mentioned.
“Understood,”
said Ezekiel. “Thank you for your help.”
As they made their way toward the bank the next block over, Archer whispered to Ezekiel, “Why did he have to come down from the heavens? Couldn’t your friends have simply telepathically told you all that?”
“You don’t have to whisper.”
“Uh, right.”
Now that he’d met the austere angel, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Uriel was listening in. Clearly, he was going to need some time to adjust to everything. “I guess I’m wondering why such a powerful angel would waste his time coming to Boston to share two sentences.”
“I counted three.”
Archer gaped at Ezekiel, then caught the side eye and barely concealed quirk of a smile.
“Ah, so you do have a sense of humor after all.”
Archer chuckled. “I was getting worried about you there.”
“I have my moments. To answer your question, Uriel needed to ensure all aspects of the plan are in place.”
Ezekiel glanced sideways at him again. “I also suspect he wanted to see you in the flesh.”
Archer furrowed his brow. "See me? Why would I matter to an archangel?"
Ezekiel's gripped his hand tighter. "I told you, Archer. You’re special, more than you realize. Your Nephilim heritage makes you a key player in this battle.”
As they approached the bank, the strange pull intensified. His skin tingled, and the urge to race inside the concrete building was almost impossible to resist. If Ezekiel weren’t by his side, he would burst into the lobby and probably get himself arrested.
“Something odd is happening to me,”
Archer muttered, his free hand unconsciously moving to his chest. "It's like there's a magnet inside me, trying to draw me in."
Ezekiel nodded solemnly. "That's the relic calling to you. It recognizes your bloodline."
They paused at the bank's entrance, and Ezekiel turned to face Archer fully. His
Ezekiel turned to face Archer fully, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and determination. “Are you ready for this? Once we retrieve the relic, there's no turning back. The dark forces will always know who you are. Your life will never be the same.”
Archer took a deep breath, the weight of the moment settling like a brick house on his shoulders. The pull from inside the bank was almost unbearable now, like an invisible cord tugging at his very soul. He glanced at their joined hands, marveling at how natural it felt, then back up at Ezekiel's face.
"Honestly? I'm scared out of my mind," Archer admitted with a wry chuckle. "But I think I passed the point of no return the moment you crashed into my life this morning. So let's do this."
Ezekiel's features softened. "I’m amazed by your courage. You’ll be an incredible partner by my side.”
“Right. That.”
Archer coughed into his fist. “We need to have a serious conversation about that later.”
“We will.”
Ezekiel grinned. “I’m looking forward to being alone with you.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
Sweat beaded on Archer’s upper lip, despite the chill of the December air. His senses seemed out of whack, as if his body could use a reboot.
“Come on, my angel. It’s go time. Once we have the relic, I’ll let Cassiel and Darius know to begin the distraction.”
Archer eyed the large, imposing doors that led to the bank’s interior. “Do we know whether any of the bank employees are on the other team? Or are the things that mangled my home completely inhuman?”
Ezekiel pressed his lips in a severe line, and Archer sensed things could go south in the bank pretty quickly.
“Unfortunately, we’ve had some recent defectors. Once a gargoyle is completely infected by a demon and turns to shadow, they become a hideous creature that isn’t visible to a mere mortal. But until then, they can seem like any other gargoyle when we take on our human form.”
Human form? Archer hadn’t thought to ask about that. Was Ezekiel going to morph into some kind of stone statue all the time? He added that to his long list of questions for later.
“Can I see them?”
The last thing he wanted was a demonic monster to sneak up on him.
Ezekiel nodded. “Yes. Another advantage to being Nephilim.”
“Oh boy.”
Archer dragged his fingers through his mussed hair. The day wasn’t even half over, and he was a wreck. Then again, his big plans of a shower and falling into bed had been unceremoniously disrupted. “Well, at least they can’t get the jump on me, right?”
“Stay behind me,”
said Ezekiel, his gaze boring into Archer. “I won’t allow anything to happen to you.”
“I’m not a big wimp, you know,”
he mumbled.
Ezekiel wrapped an arm around his waist. “That’s not what I’m inferring. It’s that you don’t have experience fighting a supernatural.”
Archer rubbed the back of his neck. “Point taken. But I won’t run.”
“I know you won’t,”
Ezekiel whispered in his ear, the gargoyle’s heated breath fanning across his chilled skin. Archer shivered, but not from the cold.
Archer cleared his throat. “So, we ready?”
Ezekiel released his hand then straightened his collar and cuffs. The meticulously dressed Slayer was not only hot as fuck, but he commanded attention with his confident demeanor and striking features. The not-so-subtle appraising glances from both men and women passing by woke up a tinge of jealousy inside Archer. Yet somehow, he knew he had nothing to worry about where Ezekiel was concerned. No one had ever looked at him before the way Ezekiel did.
As they entered the bank, Archer’s senses went into overdrive. The pull from the relic intensified, almost painful in its urgency. He scanned the lobby, half-expecting to see shadowy figures lurking in corners, but everything appeared normal. Customers queued in lines, tellers counting money, Festive holiday decorations, and two security guards standing stoically by the doors.
Ezekiel guided Archer to a quieter area near the safe deposit boxes. “Remember, act natural. We're just here to access your box.”
Archer nodded, fumbling in his pocket for the key. His hands trembled slightly as he approached the attendant's desk. “I need to get into a safe deposit box,”
he said, keeping his voice steady. “I received the key and this letter from the owner’s attorney this morning.”
The attendant smiled blandly. “Of course, sir. May I see the letter and some ID?”
While they went through the motions of confirming his information, Ezekiel remained close by his side, his body heat becoming oddly distracting, considering the dire circumstances. He shifted his position, keeping his expression flat as he fought the desire coursing through him. Sure, it had been a minute since he gotten laid, but this was ridiculous.
“Archer?”
Ezekiel’s voice startled him out of his trance. “She needs your signature in the log.”
“Huh?”
Archer blinked a few times and scrubbed his face with one hand. “Right, sorry.”
After finishing up the perfunctory paperwork, they followed the attendant into the section containing the safe deposit boxes,
As they entered the vault, the pull intensified to an almost unbearable level. Archer’s hand shook as he inserted the key into the lock. With a soft click, the box slid open. Inside lay a small, ornate wooden box adorned with intricate carvings. The moment Archer touched it, a jolt of energy surged through him. He gasped, nearly dropping the box.
"Easy," Ezekiel said, steadying Archer’s hands. "Let's get this somewhere more private."
They thanked the attendant and hurried to a secluded corner of the bank. Archer’s fingers itched to open the box, but Ezekiel shook his head minutely.
"Not here," he whispered. "We need to get back to the lair first."
As they turned to leave, a commotion erupted near the entrance. Two men in dark suits burst through the doors, their movements unnaturally fluid. Archer’s newfound senses tingled with danger.
"Ezekiel," he hissed, clutching the box tighter. "Those aren't normal guys, are they?"
Ezekiel's jaw clenched. "No. Gargoyles who haven’t completely fallen into shadow yet. We need to move. Now.”
They made for the side exit, but one of the security guards stepped in their path, his eyes flickering with an otherworldly glow. Archer’s heart pounded as he realized the guard was one of them too.
"Hand over the relic," the guard growled, his voice distorted and inhuman.
Ezekiel pushed Archer behind him. “You’ll have to go through me first.”
“And us.”
Archer startled at the female voice behind him. He glanced over his shoulder, meeting the eyes of a tall, blue-eyed beauty with short, dark hair in skin-tight leather pants and a black turtleneck sweater. Next to her stood a shorter, younger man with long, brunet hair that cascaded past his shoulders. His intense gaze was directed at the beefy guard, his top lip curled in clear disgust.
The guard laughed, a guttural sound akin to a raging hornet nest. “Ah, the cavalry arrives. Cassiel and Darius, I presume? How touching. I hate to inform you, but you're outnumbered.”
Archer clutched the box tighter to his chest, his eyes darting between the newcomers and the menacing guard. The pull from the relic inside was almost overwhelming now, thrumming through his body.
“Outnumbered doesn't mean outmatched, Raziel,”
Cassiel replied coolly, her stance shifting subtly into a fighting position.
Darius smirked, cracking his knuckles. “Besides, we brought friends.”
As if on cue, a cacophony of car alarms and sirens erupted outside the bank. The dark-suited men at the entrance whirled around, momentarily distracted.
In a blur of motion, Darius launched himself at Raziel, his lithe form belying incredible strength. Raziel lunged forward, meeting Darius halfway, his body morphing mid-leap into a grotesque twisted version of his human form. Leathery wings erupted from his back, his face contorting into a snarling visage of stone-like skin. The two crashed into a nearby desk, sending papers flying. Customers and staff screamed or or stood frozen in shock, with others silently rushing to the exits.
Archer stumbled backward, his grip on the box tightening. "Holy shit.”
He gaped in shock as Darius shifted into a similar form, his gargoyle unlike Raziel’s. Instead of appearing mutilated, he appeared like a traditional mythical creature.
The transformed pair clashed in a fury of fists and claws, the bank now quickly clearing of everyone. Archer stared, open-mouthed, as he realized tht some of the humans appeared confused, as if they couldn’t see the monsters battling it out amidst them.
Cassiel positioned herself between Archer and the approaching dark-suited men.
“Get him out of here,”
she yelled at Ezekiel. “Others have arrived. We'll handle this.”
Ezekiel grabbed Archer’s arm. "Come on," he urged, tugging him toward the exit.
As they ran, Archer clutched the ornate box to his chest, his mind reeling. The sounds of chaos echoed behind them, the streets alive with police presence and, Archer imagined, whoever the other Slayers were. They rounded into an alley, and Ezekiel paused, his breathing ragged.
“Are you all right?”
Ezekiel framed Archer’s face with his palms. “You saw them, didn’t you? I knew you were Nephilim, but now there’s no doubt.”
Archer could barely breathe. “Those others, the people in the bank. Why couldn’t they see them? I don’t understand.”
“I’ll explain later.”
Ezekiel pressed their lips together in an abrupt kiss. “We need to get to the lair.”
Startled by the unexpected kiss, Archer could only nod shakily. “S-sure. Please tell me it’s nearby. I don’t feel safe out here on the streets like this.”
“It’s covered, dearest. Cassiel left a motorcycle nearby. We can escape on that.”
Ezekiel grabbed his hand, and they took off down the alley at a fast clip. Archer thought raced as he tried to process the bizzare turn of events. Escaping hand’thideous monsters bent on tearing him from limb to limb to steal a holy relic been on his bingo card when he got home that morning.
Not even close.