Chapter Seven

We caught up with the others at the University of Zebul. As excited as we were to share our information, the weight of the place softened and slowed our footsteps, and I found myself gawking at the ceilings with their gilded and arched beams that framed extraordinary murals of Angels and Earth. Then there were the lush gardens, seen through massive mullioned windows, and even the Angels themselves. Scholars strode by us in black robes, holding stacks of old books and looking as if they belonged at Hogwarts.

Even Res beauty couldnt distract these studious Angels from their classes. They rushed past us with barely a glance at my shiny husband. Res lush lips turned down. But then we were in the library, and the quiet became reverent. The sound of our footsteps, already soft, was swallowed by thick carpets. Rooms opened to either side of us, each one enormous, with metal plaques over the doorways engraved in Latin. Within the rooms, bookshelves of awesome height and length lined up like soldiers, every shelf full. Angels stood among the bookshelves, offering the only sounds to be heard in the library—the occasional swish of fabric or the rustle of a turned page.

Until a voice broke the quiet.

“You know, you could put this all on the cloud.”

I snorted a laugh.

Torrent grinned. “Vipers right. They could free up a lot of space.”

“The cloud?” a regal voice asked. “Which cloud? What do you mean?”

“The Internet,” Viper said.

“You want us to put all of our information on the Internet?” the man was horrified. “The human web?”

“You dont have to share it. Or, if youre worried about it, put them on removable hard drives. Torrent can advise you better than me.”

“And what would you suggest we do with the ancient scrolls of Alexandria?”

Re, Torrent, and I followed the voices to the end of the hallway, through the archway there, and into the final room. Instead of bookshelves, there were those cubicles people made to hold wine. You know, with the boards at angles to form diamond holes. But these cubicles were full of scrolls. So many scrolls. They went hundreds of feet up the walls with glass doors mounted on golden brackets before them, each level designated only by the height of those doors. There were no balconies or galleries or whatever you call the narrow bits of floor that run around the upper levels of very tall rooms. Angels didnt need nonsense like that.

Magical light, its source unknown, illuminated the room brightly. Apparently, it didnt pose a threat to the scrolls as sunlight might have. Oh, wait, these scrolls were protected by spells. So it didnt matter what kind of light was beamed at them. Lasers couldnt hurt them. In the center of the room, where youd expect to find tables, there were only chairs. Back-to-back and facing out toward the scrolls. It felt like a museum.

Between one of the glass-covered wall cubicles and a line of chairs stood the God Squad, Jesus, Abaddon, and an Angel I didnt know. The unknown Angel would have been attractive if his face wasnt squished up in disdain. And I would have taken his annoyance more seriously if Abaddon wasnt standing behind him, rolling his eyes and Jesus wasnt searching his pockets for a happy cigarette.

When the J-man pulled out a hand-rolled, the upset Angel nearly fainted.

“Sire, you cant smoke in here!”

“Why not?”

“The scrolls!”

“Arent they protected under heavy-duty spells?”

“Well, yes, but this room is still part of the library, and there is no smoking allowed in the library.”

“Oh.” Jesus peered at the joint as if he couldnt imagine how it had gotten in his hand. “Well then, Ill just take a whiff. I like the smell. It calms me.”

“You like the smell?” I asked as we joined them. “You know they call it skunk weed for a reason?”

Jesus beamed at me and slid the joint back into his pocket. “There you are! Did you find anything?”

“Your ward is fine,” Torrent said. “We searched every inch and the code, uh, I mean, the magic is unbroken.”

“But while we were looking, Re was making friends,” I added with a smug look at my husband.

He smirked back at me. “I cant help it. Im a friendly guy.”

Shaking my head, I said, “Go on. Tell them.”

“Remiel,” Re said.

Jesus blinked. “Hes the one doing this?”

“We dont know that.” I smacked Res arm.

“What?” Re huffed.

“You cant just say a name like that. All dramatic. You have to explain.”

“Fine.” Re rolled his golden eyes. “Remiel was Jerrys general.”

“One of them,” Jesus said. “So?”

“So, he was a supporter. He may still be.”

Jesus scratched his head and pushed his purple, round glasses up higher on his long nose. “I dunno, man. Rem is cool now. I dont think hed do this. He survived all that primo bullshit and came out a changed man.”

“Or thats just what hes telling you,” Thor said. “Either way, speaking to him wont hurt.”

“And theres nothing here,” Odin added.

“Except the scent of bleach,” Trevor said, his face wrinkling behind his mask.

“Bleach!” the unknown Angel screeched. “Someone used bleach in here? We cant have bleach around the scrolls!”

“Relax, Sachiel,” Jesus said, his hand automatically reaching for a joint. He jerked his hand out of his pocket when he noticed Sachiels wide eyes and cleared his throat. “The bleach was used to mask a trail, not to clean the scrolls.”

Sachiel grimaced. “Still, it shouldnt be used near them.”

“Theyre protected by glass and enchantments,” Abaddon said. “The scrolls are fine.”

Sachiels wings rustled, and he straightened his shoulders. “If there is nothing else, Your Majesty?”

“Huh?” Jesus frowned at the Angel.

“I have other duties to attend to. Unless Im being replaced as ruler of this Heaven?”

“What? No, man. Why would you think that?”

He glanced at Abaddon. “Evidently you disagreed with the way I ran this school.”

“Sachiel, my friend.” Jesus laid a hand on the Angel, and Sachiel instantly relaxed. “I wanted to lessen the strain on you. I never thought you were lacking. Be at peace. You are a fine governor of this territory, and I need Angels like you to help me. I rely on you.”

Sachiel took a breath. Then he bowed. “Thank you, King Jesus.”

“Its all good, man.” Jesus grinned and dropped his hand. “All of it. Keep it up. And dont worry. I promise not to smoke in here.”

Sachiel cleared his throat. “Thank you, Sire.” He bowed, then left the room.

Jesuss smile vanished as the Angel did. He turned to his brother and asked, “What do you think I should do, Az?”

Jesus went from King to toddler in seconds, reminding me that Azrael was the older of the two. The King of Kings older brother.

“Lets just have a chat with Remiel. Nothing menacing. Just talk. You can read a mans heart better than anyone, J. I dont think well need to resort to harsher measures to get the truth from Remiel.”

“Harsher measures!” Jesuss eyes went wide. “That never even occurred to me. No one is torturing my Angels, Az.”

Azrael grinned, his love for his brother clear. “We wouldnt dream of it, J.”

“Okay then.” Jesus grinned and pulled out his joint.

“Your Majesty,” Abaddon said, then looked pointedly at the joint.

Jesus grinned, lifted it to his nose, and breathed deeply. “Ah, the sweet smell of the Devils lettuce.”