Chapter 27 – Ithuriel
Marseille
T his part of Marseille is very beautiful. The streets are narrow and winding, the houses have terracotta roofs and colorful shutters. Most homes have gardens with olive trees and lavender. Every now and then, Jessica stops to take in a lungful of the fragrant Mediterranean air.
“I thought you were American,” she asks a now more cheerful Mike.
“I am,” he confirms. “But my parents moved to Europe when my search for Lana brought me here. They were over life in The States anyway. Came there with the original settlers,” he says proudly.
Sariel and I share a look. Angel and demon pairings are so rare, and we know for a fact that Lana’s grandparents were killed by Belial. Who could this boy’s parents be?
Jessica skips over to Sariel and hangs onto his arm. She hops up and down excitedly. “I know you probably have a killer home by the Lethe, Sar, but can we please, please, please get a house here too?”
The Fallen looks at her indulgently, then grins back at me, lifting an eyebrow as if to say ‘So?’.
My lips twitch into a smile. “ D’accord ,” I whisper.
“Yess,” she hisses, jumping up to kiss the Fallen’s cheek, then throwing her arms around my neck. It’s so good to see her happy. I get the overwhelming urge to call my wings and fly her up into the sky for a dance among the clouds. Instead, I pick her up and give her a spin, enjoying her giggles.
“Sorry to interrupt,” a smiling Mike says. “But that’s my family’s home.”
He points to the end of the street we found ourselves on, to an iron-wrought gate with an arch of jasmine and honeysuckle above it, perfuming the air. The two-story villa behind it glows in the late afternoon sun and, as we come closer, the sound of buzzing bees joins the chorus of chirping birds, their home a garden of lavender, rosemary, and climbing bougainvillea.
The front door, painted a deep, rich blue, contrasts against the earth-toned facade, and as we watch, a golden retriever noses it open before running to the Nephalem boy.
“Come here, sweetheart!” Mike kneels down and roughly ruffles the dog’s fur, letting it lick his face clean.
“Aww, a puppy!” Jessica squeals with excitement. I don’t correct her that the dog is clearly no longer a puppy, but rather an adult. “What’s her name?” she asks Mike.
“Bau the fifth,” he replies. “Just Bau for short.”
At that moment a sweet female voice rings out from the house. “Michael? Is that you, my heart?”
A deep man’s voice follows, the owner of it clearly irritated. “Wait,” it growls. “He isn’t alone.”
“It’s angels,” she replies hesitantly.
The short argument ends when two figures appear at the doorway. One is a silver-haired female, her coloring as reminiscent of mine as Mike said it was. The other is a male with long black hair, deep red eyes, and a five-o’clock-yesterday shadow of a beard on his chiseled, barbarically handsome face.
I stand rooted to the ground, observing my role model. “You’re alive,” I gasp at her.
“I knew it!” Jessica crows.
Sariel’s voice sounds next, tinged with disgust, addressing the son of the devil: “You let her name your son after an archangel?”
∞∞∞
As we sit in Nephithar and Syriniana’s Provencal sitting room, with its exposed wooden beams, cool terracotta tiles, and (unlit) stone fireplace, the archivist flutters around Mike and Jess, making sure they have enough food and drink. The ancient general throws us disgruntled looks, clearly not too happy that his son brought outsiders to their home.
“Does anyone else know you’re alive?” I ask him, drawing his gaze to me. I try to not think about the fact that he was once known as Angelbane, millennia before my creation, and delighted in hacking our wings off.
“We have encountered a few over the years. It’s unavoidable.”
“Did you kill them after?” Sariel drawls, crossing a foot over his knee.
Nephithar smiles for the first time. “Didn’t need to. Don’t be the first.”
Our Fallen throws his head back in laughter and the dog, Bau, barks from her bed near the fireplace. Just what we needed; for these two to become best friends. The chaos…
While they chat about life in the human realm and the goings-on in Hell, Syriniana sits down next to me, but at a respectable distance.
“You’ve fallen for love,” she says quietly with a soft smile on her lips. She looks the same age as her son, though who can truly know how his aging is, being a full-blooded Nephalem. Some age normally, and some have a stronger connection to their Celestial roots.
I clear my throat. “So did he,” I say. “It merely took me a thousand years to realize it.”
I glance at Sariel to see that, while he’s still in conversation with Nephithar, his eyes are on me. When he catches mine, he gives me a little wink. We've come so far in our relationship these last few days. Are there really no traces of his animosity against me left?
“I never had to confront my brethren after I left them,” the archivist says sadly. “You won’t have that luxury, I fear.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. Whenever I think of Saraqael’s reaction to my choices, my heart freezes in my chest and dread spears through my stomach. Sometimes I consider not confronting him, merely hiding myself in whatever home Sariel has for us in Hell, never leaving.
Jessica’s behind lands in my lap and her arms twine around my neck. “He won’t be alone,” she tells the other angel while looking at me. “Sariel and I will always be with him, every step of the way.”
A burden lifts from my chest. Yes, I can do anything as long as they are with me.
“Can I have two boyfriends too, Dad?” I hear Mike asking his father.
“Have five, Son,” Nephithar replies. “As long as none of them are an archangel.”
His consort smiles at us warmly and I nod my head in her direction “Thank you, Syriniana.”
“Syrin to my friends,” she corrects me as her demon groans.
“Must you befriend every stray, Muluskara ?” he asks her.
I haven’t heard Ancient Sumerian in millennia!
“Alright, let’s cut to the chase before Aim and Lana get here,” Sariel interjects.
Nephithar straightens. “Aim? That spy is coming to my home?” he growls.
“Relax,” the Fallen drawls. “Aim is loyal to Ash and would never do anything to harm anyone close to his master’s consort.”
I can see almost the thoughts connecting in the demon’s head as well as the moment of realization before his mouth opens. “Ashtaroth?”
“Did we not mention that?” Sariel asks innocently.
“Woah, wait,” Mike jumps in. “Lan-Lan is playing hide the salami with the archdemon Ashtaroth?”
Jessica covers her smiling mouth before nodding vigorously.
Sariel snorts. “Hiding the salami, churning the butter, dancing the horizontal tango, filling the love taco, paddling the pink canoe, releasing the kraken – you name it, they’re doing it. Everywhere. All the time,” he says with feeling.
Mike shakes his head, eyes wide open. “I couldn’t get her to go on a date and then she bags a baddie?”
“If it makes you feel any better, their courtship started with him making her dry hump his thigh in thanks for saving her life from a golem.” My mouth falls open at Jess’ words. “Then he kidnapped her,” she continues.
“And then he claimed her on the dinner table in front of his entire court to make sure no one gets any funny ideas,” Sariel finishes.
I look up at Jessica, then to the other couch at Sariel. “And she loves this creature?” I ask, aghast. Syrin looks as scandalized as I feel.
“She’s crazy about him!” Jess exclaims. “And I don’t blame her, mmm, daddy, yes .”
She must realize she said too much out loud because she turns beet red. It’s too late, however; Mike and Sariel are nearly rolling on the floor from laughter.
“Please, for the love of baby seals, do not tell him I said that,” she begs those present.
“I’m sure you can bribe me into forgetting it.” Sariel winks at her.
“You can’t, however, bribe me,” Aim says from the doorway.