Chapter Eight #2
The antique objects he’d become so accustomed to seeing in various lairs around the world suddenly made Ronen see them with fresh eyes. Viewing them from Tanner’s perspective, the things he’d taken for granted now appeared extraordinary.
“We’ve been collecting and protecting these treasures for centuries. Some were gifts from grateful humans we’ve saved. Others were rescued from demonic raids.”
Tanner’s jaw went slack. “Wow. Demon raids? That’s wild.”
They approached the massive oak doors of the conference room, and Tanner’s body tensed beneath his palm. He paused, turning to face his mate.
“Are you ready for this?” Ronen laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.
Tanner swallowed visibly. “As ready as I’ll ever be to meet a bunch of supernatural warriors who fight demons.” He let out a shaky chuckle. “No pressure or anything.”
Ronen cupped Tanner’s face between his palms. “You’ll do fine. Remember, you’re Nephilim, treasured by all who fight for what’s moral and just.”
Ronen pushed open the door, keeping his hand firmly at Tanner’s back as they entered. The large conference table dominated the center of the room, surrounded by high-backed chairs. Cassiel was already there, along with Ezekiel and a dark-haired woman he didn’t recognize.
He assumed she was Samir’s replacement. Before he could ask for an introduction, though, he noted that Victor wasn’t in attendance. Ronen pressed his lips together in aggravation. Although he had to admit he wouldn’t miss the asshole.
But what truly caught Ronen’s attention was the shimmering presence materializing at the head of the table—Archangel Michael himself, his ethereal form solidifying into something more substantial.
Tanner gasped, his body going rigid. Ronen tightened his grip on Tanner’s waist, steadying him.
“Is that…?” Tanner whispered, his voice barely audible.
“Yes,” Ronen murmured. “That's Michael.”
The archangel’s ice-blue gaze swept over them, lingering on Tanner with an intensity that made Ronen’s protective instincts flare. Michael arched his eyebrows. “The mate bond has been successfully consummated, I see.”
Tanner shifted uncomfortably under Michael’s scrutiny. Ronen stepped slightly in front of him. It was a subtle movement, yet he was sure it would signal that he’d protect Tanner from anything and everything.
“Yes.” Ronen kept his voice steady despite the urge to snarl at anyone—even an archangel—who made Tanner uneasy.
Cassiel coughed into her fist, breaking the tension. “Now that the lovebirds have joined us, can we get down to business?” She gestured to the empty chairs. “Have a seat, you two.”
Ronen guided Tanner to a chair that would place him between his mate and everyone else in the room. Part of him knew he was overreacting, but the other part didn’t give a shit.
“Where’s Victor?” Sure, he didn’t miss the guy, but it seemed strange that a team member wasn’t attending an official meeting.
Cassiel tapped her fingers on the table, a habit Ronen recognized she employed when irritated. “Good question. He’s been making an awful lot of excuses to avoid us these days. I’ve almost forgotten what he looks like.”
Ronen snorted. “Lucky you.”
Michael leaned back in his chair. “Part of the reason why my presence is needed here. I’ve had an interesting chat with a former team member, and Victor’s name came up.”
Tanner gasped. “Hold up. I just realized something. I remember a dude named Victor from the facility.”
Ronen gritted his teeth. “I fucking knew there was something up with that dickhead.”
“Go on,” encouraged a surprisingly nonchalant Michael.
“He was one of my supervisors,” Tanner said, his voice growing quieter.
“Not directly over my department, but he’d come in sometimes to check on progress.
It was a relief when he stopped showing up a couple of weeks ago.
” Tanner shifted in his seat. “He always creeped me out, to be honest. The way he’d look at me...
like he was sizing me up or something. I thought he was hitting on me. ”
A surge of rage shot through Ronen. His muscles tensed as the image of Victor leering at his mate filled his mind. His fingers curled into fists beneath the table, nails digging into his palms as he fought to maintain control.
“Very interesting.” Michael arched his eyebrows. “That was around the time we began this mission.”
“Are you absolutely certain it was the same Victor?” Cassiel leaned forward.
“Tall guy, graying at the temples…” Tanner furrowed his brow. “The most distinctive thing about him is a scar on his right cheek that runs from his eye to his jaw.” Tanner traced the path with his finger on his own face.
Ronen’s blood turned to ice. There was no mistaking it—the scumbag making moves on his mate was definitely Victor. The realization hit him like a physical blow. Victor hadn’t been their ally. He’d been working against them the entire time.
“Son of a bitch.” Cassiel slammed her palm on the table. “No wonder he’s been such a pain in the ass.” She let out a growl. “And the way he was so insistent about bringing Samir along—”
“Samir is innocent,” Michael interjected. “He requested a transfer because he felt the infection returning. He feared he would endanger the mission.”
“Fuck!” Ronen couldn’t hold his fury in any longer. “Permission to rip his head off. I can go do it now and be back within the hour.”
“Take me with you. I’ll rip his arms off, and we’ll return in half that,” Cassiel snarled.
Ezekiel smirked. “Does that mean I get the legs?”
“That’s enough!” shouted Michael. “The angelic council has suspected all along the rogues had abandoned the relics in favor of something more precious.” He directed his gaze to Tanner.
“The Nephilim themselves. A shadow gargoyle mating with a corrupted Nephilim would produce an almost unbeatable army of twisted supernatural beings, bred only for the purpose of destruction.”
Michael sighed, his features weary in a way Ronen had never seen on an angel.
“All light would be drained from existence on the earthly plain. Our only priority now is to destroy that facility. From what Samir told us, this location is the only one of its kind. We’re fortunate in the sense that we’ve uncovered their devious intent before more such facilities were created. ”
Michael regarded Tanner. “I’m afraid you were their guinea pig.
If they had succeeded in corrupting you, then they would’ve repeated the process over and over.
” Michael turned to Ronen. “This is why you were sent here, why you were given your mate before your required kills. Now that the stakes have changed, everything else will, too. I’m not sure what this means for the Shadow Slayers going forward, but I do know one thing.
If we can destroy this facility before the evil can spread to others, then the rogues will have failed. ”
“Holy shit,” muttered Cassiel. “You’re serious? Battling the rogues would truly be over?”
“They’ll have no choice but to slither back into the underworld and beg for Lucifer’s forgiveness.” Michael smirked. “Banishment to pure nothingness is more likely.”
Ronen’s thoughts were a swirl of shock, disbelief, and hope.
Was it possible? Being a Shadow Slayer was such an integral part of who he was.
He swallowed hard as he gazed down at Tanner.
Was that true anymore? Loving his mate and being a father, having a family of his own—nothing could be more significant than that.
Cassiel let out a loud sigh. “I’m sorry, but I’m confused. Why didn’t they just have Victor ask Tanner out on a date or something? Setting up a huge enterprise and dragging the Secretary of War into the mix seems bizarrely over the top.” She grunted. “Even for rogues.”
Michael smiled. “Tanner? Want to take this one?”
“Oh boy.” Tanner bit his lip. “Yeah, it’s starting to make more sense now.”