Chapter 14
CHAPTER 14
Uriel
I push open the door, my heart pounding with a fusion of fear and anticipation. The scene that greets me is so far from what I expected that for a moment, I wonder if I’ve stepped into some bizarre alternate reality.
Emilia is indeed awake, but she’s not alone. Seated across from her, in one of my antique armchairs, is a figure I haven’t seen in centuries. My sister, Gabrielle.
She’s as breathtakingly beautiful as ever, her long red hair cascading over her shoulders in waves that seem to catch the firelight and set it ablaze. Her deep green eyes, flecked with gold, sparkle with mischief as she laughs at something Emilia has said. A smattering of light freckles across her nose gives her an air of youthful innocence that I know all too well is merely a facade.
They’re sharing tea and biscuits, chatting as if they’ve known each other for years. The easy camaraderie between them sets my teeth on edge.
“Uri!” Gabrielle exclaims, noticing me hovering in the doorway. “There you are! Come join us, brother dear. Emilia and I were just getting acquainted.”
I step into the room, my movements stiff and uncertain. Emilia turns to me, her face lighting up with a warm smile that momentarily pushes aside my unease.
“Uriel,” she says, “why didn’t you tell me you had such a delightful sister? Gabrielle’s been keeping me entertained while you were... wherever you were.” She tilts her head, a question in her eyes that I’m not ready to answer.
“I... wasn’t aware you two knew each other,” I manage, my gaze flicking between Emilia and Gabrielle.
Gabrielle lets out a tinkling laugh that sets my nerves on edge. “Oh, we didn’t! Not until about an hour ago. I popped in for a visit and found this absolute gem all alone. Really, Uri, it’s not like you to be so negligent with your guests.”
Her tone is light, teasing, but I can hear the faint undercurrent of reproach. It’s so like Gabrielle to waltz in uninvited and then act as if I’m the one at fault.
“My apologies,” I say stiffly. “I had some... urgent business to attend to.”
Emilia’s brow furrows slightly at my tone, but before she can say anything, Gabrielle claps her hands together.
“Well, no matter! We’ve been having the most delightful chat. Did you know Emilia’s never been to London? I was just telling her about this darling little tea shop in Notting Hill. Oh, and we’ve discovered a mutual love for animals! Emilia does volunteer work at an animal shelter. Isn’t that precious?”
I clench my jaw, fighting against the urge to snap at Gabrielle. Her enthusiasm, so at odds with the gravity of our situation, grates on my already frayed nerves.
“How... nice,” I manage. “Gabrielle, might I have a word with you? In private?”
Gabrielle’s eyes narrow almost imperceptibly, but her smile never wavers. “Of course, dear brother. Though I don’t know what you could possibly have to say that Emilia couldn’t hear. After all, we were just getting to the juicy part about the end-of-the-world crisis.”
Gracefully, Gaby rises from her chair. “Uri, you wanted to chat? Let’s chat. Emilia, darling, would you mind terribly if I borrowed my brother for a moment?”
Emilia shakes her head, still watching me with those soft, concerned eyes. “Of course not. I’ll just... tidy up a bit.”
As she begins gathering the tea things, Gabrielle loops her arm through mine and all but drags me from the room. Her grip is far stronger than her delicate appearance would suggest, reminding me that for all her frivolous behavior, she is still very much an archangel.
She pulls me into my study, closing the door behind us with a soft click. As soon as we’re alone, her cheerful demeanor drops like a discarded cloak.
“Alright, Uri,” she says, her voice low and serious. “What in the name of all that’s holy is going on here? I leave you alone for a few centuries and suddenly you’re shacking up with a human and the world’s about to end?”
I bristle at her tone, old resentments bubbling to the surface. “I don’t recall asking for your opinion, Gabrielle. Or your presence, for that matter. Why are you here?”
She sighs, running a hand through her fiery hair. “Believe it or not, I’m here to help. Though I’m starting to wonder why I bother, given the warm welcome I’m receiving.”
“Help?” I scoff. “And how exactly do you propose to do that? By gossiping with Emilia about London and animal shelters?”
Gabrielle’s eyes flash dangerously. “Don’t be obtuse, Uriel. It doesn’t suit you. I was getting to know her, trying to understand what’s so special about this human that has you risking everything.”
I turn away, unable to meet her piercing gaze. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me,” she says, her voice softening slightly. “Uri, I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, especially since...” she trails off, but I know what she’s referring to. Her friendships with certain fallen angels have been a point of contention between us for millennia.
“But I’m still your sister,” she continues. “And contrary to what you might believe, I do care about you. And the world, for that matter. So when I started hearing whispers about prophecies and earthquakes and you being at the center of it all, I had to come see for myself.”
I sigh, feeling the weight of centuries pressing down on me. “It’s... complicated, Gaby.”
She snorts, a very un-angelic sound. “When is it not, with you? Come on, spill. What’s really going on here?”
And so, against my better judgment, I find myself telling her everything. The prophecy, the tremors, Azrael’s visit, my growing feelings for Emilia, and my recent, unsettling encounter with Lucifer.
Gabrielle listens without interrupting, her expression growing more serious with each passing moment. When I finally fall silent, she lets out a low whistle.
“Well, brother dear, you certainly know how to get yourself into a mess, don’t you?”
I glare at her, but there’s no real heat behind it. “If you’re just going to mock me, you can leave.”
“Oh, don’t be so sensitive,” she says, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m not mocking you. Well, not entirely. But Uri, don’t you see? This is exactly why I came.”
I raise an eyebrow, waiting for her to elaborate.
“I’ve heard things,” she says, her voice dropping to a murmur. “Whispers in dark places, rumors from old... friends.” The way she says ‘friends’ leaves little doubt as to their nature. “I think I know who’s really behind all this.”
Despite myself, I lean in, intrigued. “What do you mean? Lucifer said?—”
“Lucifer,” Gabrielle interrupts, “is not as in control as he’d like you to believe. Think about it, Uri. Why would he want the world to end? He’s got a pretty sweet set-up here on Earth. No, this isn’t his doing.”
“Then whose?” I ask, a sense of dread building in my chest.
Gabrielle’s eyes meet mine, deadly serious. “The Riders of Ruin, Uri. Or more specifically, War.”
I feel the blood drain from my face. The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse are not to be trifled with, even for beings like us. And War... War has always been the most volatile, the most unpredictable.
“But why?” I manage to ask through my shock. “What could War possibly gain from this?”
Gabrielle’s lips twist into a grim smile. “Think about it. Who’s been ruling Earth, more or less, for the past few millennia? Who’s been stoking the fires of human conflict, but always keeping it just shy of total annihilation?”
Understanding dawns on me. “Lucifer.”
She nods. “Exactly. War’s tired of playing second fiddle. He wants to overthrow Lucifer’s earthly rule. He’s been trying to get him out of the game for thousands of years.”
I sink into my chair, my mind reeling with the implications. “But this... this is madness. If War succeeds, if he actually manages to trigger the apocalypse…”
“Then it’s game over,” Gabrielle finishes for me. “For everyone. Humans, demons, angels... all of it, gone. And War gets to reign over the ashes.”
We sit in silence for a long moment, the implications of this revelation settling over us like a shroud. Finally, I look up at my sister, seeing her in a new light.
“Thank you,” I say softly. “For telling me this. For... for coming.”
Gabrielle’s expression softens, and for a moment, I see the sister I used to know, before millennia of disagreements and disappointments came between us.
“That’s what family’s for, isn’t it?” she says, reaching out to squeeze my hand. “Even if we don’t always agree, even if we don’t always understand each other’s choices... we show up when it matters.”
I nod, feeling a lump form in my throat. “Gaby, I?—”
But before I can finish, a scream pierces the air. Emilia’s scream.
In an instant, Gabrielle and I are on our feet, racing towards the parlor. I throw open the door, my heart pounding with fear of what I might find.
The scene before us freezes me in my tracks. The parlor is in chaos, furniture overturned, the remnants of our tea scattered across the floor. And there, in the center of it all, stands a figure that radiates menace and barely contained violence.
He’s tall, easily seven feet, his form encased in burnished bronze armor that ripples like liquid metal with each movement. His eyes glow like embers beneath his helm, and a sword of flame dances in his right hand. A cruel smile plays across his lips.
“Well, well,” he says, his voice a low rumble that seems to shake the very foundations of the house. “The gang’s all here. How convenient.”
My gaze frantically searches the room, finally landing on Emilia. She’s pressed against the far wall, her eyes wide with terror. But she’s alive, unharmed, and the relief that floods through me is almost painful in its intensity.
“War,” Gabrielle hisses beside me, her own celestial power beginning to manifest in a soft golden glow around her.
The being—War—turns his burning gaze on us, his smile widening to reveal fangs sharp as daggers.
“Uriel, Gabrielle,” he says, as casually as if we’ve met for afternoon tea. “So nice of you to join us. I was just getting acquainted with your little human pet.”
Before Gabrielle can react, War’s grin widens. “Away with you, mischief-maker,” he commands, his voice dripping with disdain. And with a flick of his hand, reality warps around her like a swirling vortex, causing her to vanish from the room in an instant.
I take a step forward, every fiber of my being screaming to put myself between this monster and Emilia. “Let her go,” I growl, my own power surging to the surface. “Your quarrel is not with her.”
War laughs, a sound like boulders grinding together. “Oh, but it is. You see, she’s the key to this whole mess, isn’t she? The lynchpin in your little plan to stop my apocalypse.” His eyes narrow, gleaming with malevolent glee. “Can’t have that, now can we?”
With a speed that belies his massive frame, War lunges towards Emilia. I move to intercept, but I know with a sickening certainty that I won’t be fast enough.
The last thing I see is Emilia’s terrified face, her hand reaching out towards me. Then the world explodes in a blaze of hellfire and fury.