Chapter Nine
“Archer, wake up!”
Archer jerked upright, jarred out of a sound sleep by Ezekiel’s urgent call. “What? What’s going on?”
Light from the bedside lamp cut through the pitch-black darkness of their bedroom, and Ezekiel was hopping on one foot, struggling to pull on a pair of dark jeans. Despite having no idea what was going on, Archer jumped out of bed to get dressed, too.
“Sorry, love.”
Ezekiel yanked the shirt he’d tossed onto the chair the night before shrugging it on, working the buttons frantically. “Urgent call from Cassiel. Woke me from a sound sleep. She needs help.”
Archer searched for his own shirt, eventually finding it under the bed. They’d been having a sex marathon over the past few days while waiting for word from Michael on their next move. They couldn’t for Ezekiel’s home base in Los Angeles until they were sure Raziel wouldn’t launch another attack in Boston.
As Archer finished dressing and started waking up more, it occurred to him that the call from Cassiel must’ve been telepathic. Did that mean she wasn’t in the lair? As far as he knew, they were all holding tight for now. Then again, he wasn’t exactly an expert yet on Slayer protocol.
Ezekiel paused, as if a thought struck him. He turned to Archer. “You should stay here with Darius. He’s fully recovered and an excellent fighter.”
Archer grabbed his arm. “Cassiel isn’t here then?”
Ezekiel regarded him with a pained expression. “I’m afraid not. I don’t know why she would’ve left without telling anyone. Maybe she was lured away somehow.”
“I don’t like this,”
Archer gritted through his teeth. “And from what you’ve told me, Darius is this lair’s best fighter after Cassiel. You can’t go out there without him.”
“I need him here with you. I don’t trust Lysander, and I don’t know the others that well.”
Archer shook his head in confusion. “Who’s Lysander, and why don’t you trust him?”
He hadn’t been paying attention to the Slayer roster. Most of his time had been spent getting railed by Ezekiel in their own private lair paradise.
Ezekiel rubbed his forehead. “I don’t have time to explain. But it has to do with something Cassiel said to me the other night.”
He gave Archer a quick kiss on the mouth. “I’ll tell you everything when I return.”
Fear wrapped around his heart like a fist. “Don’t go,”
he pleaded. “Something’s off.”
Ezekiel framed Archer’s face with his palms. “I sent a message to Malachi, but I don’t know how quickly he can get here. Cassiel needs help now, but Malachi can alert others who might be nearby. Slayers we know are trustworthy.”
The whole situation was making his head hurt. If everything didn’t go tits up before the night was through, he was going to insist on a crash course in all things gargoyle, angel, and demon. He despised being clueless.
Archer clenched his jaw and nodded. “Okay. But I swear to all that is holy, if you get yourself hurt, I’ll punch you.”
Ezekiel yanked him into an embrace. “I won’t let anyone hurt me. Our baby needs both fathers.”
Archer froze. Before he could ask Ezekiel what he meant, his mate was already out the door and racing down the hall.
He meant that in general, right?
Archer placed a palm on his abdomen and swallowed hard.
Nah.
* * * *
Ezekiel swooped down low over the downtown cityscape. A new layer of snow covered the ground, tufts of fluffy white flakes clinging to bare tree branches and streetlamps. The city was eerily quiet at this late hour, save for the occasional rumble of a snowplow in the distance.
His wings beat steadily scanned the streets below, searching for any sign of Cassiel or unusual activity. Her telepathic message had been garbled and cut off abruptly, leaving him with only a vague sense of her location near the harbor. As he glided over the waterfront, a flash of movement caught his eye.
There—a dark figure darting between shadows near an old warehouse. Ezekiel banked sharply, diving toward the alley where he'd spotted the figure. As he drew closer, he recognized the familiar silhouette of a shadow gargoyle. His heart raced. Where there was one, others were sure to follow.
Ezekiel landed silently on the warehouse roof, his wings folding against his back as he crouched low to survey the scene. The shadow gargoyle was skulking near a rusted side door, its obsidian form barely distinguishable from the inky darkness surrounding it. Ezekiel's enhanced senses picked up the faint scrabbling of claws against metal—the creature was trying to break in.
He tensed, ready to spring into action, when a flicker of movement caught his eye. Another figure emerged from behind a dumpster, this one in human form. Ezekiel's breath caught as he recognized Cassiel. To Ezekiel’s shock, she sauntered up to the fallen gargoyle, making no effort to hide her presence from the shadow creature.
His gut clenched, bile rising as he battled the fear that Cassiel - not Lysander - was the Slayer engaged in treachery. Had she frantically lured him away from the lair so the shadow creatures could take him out easier when he had no reinforcements? Had she been in league with Raziel this entire time?
Ezekiel’s mind reeled, his heart breaking at the thought of his close friend falling into darkness. His claws dug into the roof’s edge, his muscles coiled as he watched the scene unfold below. Cassiel approached the shadow gargoyle with an easy familiarity that sent chills down his spine. This couldn't be happening. Not Cassiel. She had been his mentor, his friend, a pillar of strength within the Shadow Slayer organization for centuries.
Ezekiel’s sharp fangs bared at the sight of Raziel emerging from inside the warehouse. He waved off the shadow creature then turned to acknowledge Cassiel’s presence without hostility. They exchanged words in low tones, their voices carried away by the bitter wind before Ezekiel could make out what was said.
Torn between retreating until reinforcements arrived and gathering more intel, Ezekiel inched closer to the edge of the roof, straining to hear their conversation. His heart pounded, each beat a painful reminder of the betrayal unfolding before him.
Suddenly, Cassiel's head snapped up, her eyes locking onto his position. Ezekiel froze, realizing too late he'd given himself away.
“Well, well,”
Raziel’s smooth voice carried on the night air. “It seems we have an uninvited guest.”
In an instant, Ezekiel's world exploded into chaos. Shadow gargoyles poured from the warehouse, their obsidian forms blending with the darkness as they swarmed toward him. He spread his wings, ready to take flight, when a familiar voice cut through the din.
“Ezekiel, wait!”
Cassiel cried out. “It's not what you think!”
Ezekiel hesitated for a split second, torn between his instinct to flee and his deep-rooted trust in Cassiel. That moment of indecision cost him dearly. A shadow gargoyle latched onto his ankle, its claws digging into his flesh as it dragged him off the roof. He tumbled through the air, wings flailing as he struggled to right himself.
With a bone-jarring thud, Ezekiel hit the ground. He rolled to his feet, fangs bared and claws extended, ready to face the onslaught of shadow creatures. But instead of attacking, they formed a loose circle around him, Raziel and Cassiel at its center.
“My dear Ezekiel,”
Raziel purred, his voice dripping with false warmth. “How kind of you to join us. We were just discussing you, in fact.”
Ezekiel glared at the smug demon but turned to face Cassiel. “Explain yourself.”
Cassiel stepped forward, her hands raised in a placating gesture. “Ezekiel, please, you must listen. Things are not as they seem.”
Ezekiel's eyes darted between Cassiel and Raziel, his muscles taut with tension. “Then enlighten me,”
he growled, “because from where I'm standing, it looks like you've betrayed everything we stand for.”
Raziel chuckled a disturbing sound that sent chills down Ezekiel’s spine. “Oh, how deliciously dramatic. But I'm afraid you're operating on outdated information, my friend.”
“We're not friends,”
Ezekiel spat, his wings rustling with agitation.
Cassiel took another step closer, her gait odd, her eyes glimmering in an otherworldly glow - not a deep amber, but a cloudy, putrid orange rot. “Ezekiel, the world is changing.”
Her voice deepened. “The balance between light and dark... it’s shifting. We can't keep fighting.”
She raised her arms, but they no longer showed a feminine line. Instead, they thickened, dark hair covering the pale muscled limb like a dusting of soot. Ezekiel’s heart jumped into his throat.
“It can’t be…”
Lysander burst into laughter. “Oh yes, it most certainly can.”
His lips curled up in a hideous grin. “Goodbye, Ezekiel.”
* * * *
Archer paced the large, rectangular carpet at the entrance to the lair. Ezekiel had only been gone ten minutes or so but it felt like an hour. Darius sat at attention on the very bench where he’d been healed by Ezekiel a few days ago.
“Don’t be afraid, Archer. I’m completely recovered. I’ll be able to protect you should it come to that.”
Archer came to a halt and crossed his arms. “That’s why you think I’m stressing out over here?”
He huffed. “I’m worried about Ezekiel charging in to save the day without any help!”
Darius raised an eyebrow, his stoic expression softening slightly. “Ezekiel is one of our most capable warriors. He's faced far worse odds and came out victorious.”
Archer resumed his pacing, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I know, I know. It's just... something feels off about this whole situation. Why would Cassiel leave without telling anyone? And who’s this Lysander character Ezekiel doesn't trust?”
Darius's brow furrowed. “Lysander? The rogue demons turned him, but his strength of character ultimately gave him the strength to resist. He returned to us about a year ago and provided us with some valuable info. Quiet fellow, keeps to himself. Why do you ask?”
“Ezekiel mentioned not trusting him, said Cassiel told him something about him the other night." Archer ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “But he didn't have time to explain before rushing off.”
A loud yawn sounded behind them. “I said what to who now?”
Cassiel stretched her arms above her head. “What’s all the racket out here? Can’t a girl get her beauty sleep?”
Archer gasped and Darius shot to his feet, crying out, “Where’s Lysander?”
Cassiel’s eyes went wide. “I knew it!”
Her eyes flashed with fury as she lunged forward, grabbing Archer’ arm. “Where’s Ezekiel?”
she demanded, her voice laced with panic.
Archer stumbled back, his blood seeming to drain from his body. "He…he left to help you! He said he received a message from you, that you were in trouble.”
“It seems that fucker has some new tricks up his sleeve,”
Cassiel growled, releasing Archer and whirling to face Darius. “Lysander. That treacherous bastard. I knew he was up to something.”
Darius’ face paled. “But how? He passed all our tests, provided us with valuable information.”
“A long con,”
Cassiel spat. “I've suspected for weeks, but I couldn't prove anything. I confronted Ezekiel about my suspicions the other night, but...”
Cassiel's face hardened, her amber eyes flashing with determination. “We need to move. Now.”
She strode toward the lair's exit, calling behind her. “Darius, alert the others. We have a traitor in our midst, and Ezekiel's walking into a trap.”
Archer rushed after her. “I’m coming with you!”
Darius jumped in his path, blocking his way. “Ezekiel will have yours and my ass if you leave this lair.”
He glanced over his shoulder at Cassiel. “I’ve sent the emergency alarm. I’ll stay here and stand guard.”
Fuck. If he was part angel, why didn’t he have wings? Then he’d bust out of there and save the man he loved his own damn self. Archer covered his mouth with both hands. Without warning, he’d fallen hard and fast for the most amazing being he’d ever met.
But would he lose him just as quickly?