36. Chapter Thirty-Six

Iwas going to burn the lot of them. What a ridiculous pile of old fools. They were incapable of making any kind of decision, instead choosing to stand there and debate whether it was worth their time to hear what I had to say.

“Calm yourself, brother,” Michael whispered as he stepped next to me. “Wouldn’t want to start another war now, would we.”

I huffed. It was pretty fucking tempting right now. “Where’s Jegudiel? He would be sorting this rabble out with a lift of his little finger.”

Jegudiel was the Speaker of the Council and in charge of keeping order. The Council of Angels kept law and order in the Upper Realm, but there was nothing orderly about the crowd in front of me.

“Is it me, or is this place falling apart?” I asked.

“There’s definitely something amiss,” Michael mused, his brow drawn in a deep frown. “I’ve never seen it like this before.”

“Can you do something about it?” Fenris asked, his face twisted in confusion as he watched the Council. “Aren’t you an almighty Archangel?”

“I may be an Archangel, but I have no power here in the Council. I’m a warrior, not a politician,” Michael explained. “I go where they, or the Divine One, tell me to go. I don’t make the decisions.”

I patted the marks on his arms that bound him to Hell. “You didn’t ask permission to do that though, did you.” I gave him a knowing look, but he just rolled his eyes at me.

When Selene had fixed the soul bond, I’d gotten so close to the point of death that the wards I’d built to protect Hell had started to fail. If it hadn’t been for Michael and Rae binding their lifeforce to the protection wards, Hell would have fallen apart and all the demons and dark souls would have escaped. That wouldn’t have been good for anyone.

But it meant that Michael had sacrificed something of himself to save me. I still couldn’t believe he’d done that but the white tattoo-like marks on his forearms proved that he had. I often wondered what Rae had said or done to get Michael agree to helping her. It was a special kind of person that could get an Archangel to do their bidding, especially an Archangel like my twin.

“We do need to do something,” Torsten pointed out. “Otherwise, there is no point in us being here.”

I raised my eyebrow at him. Someone was starting to feel bolder now they weren’t bound by eternal servitude.

“Yeah,” Edwin said, a bored expression on his face. “When’s the fun going to start?”

Torsten was right. We were achieving nothing by standing here and merely watching.

“Enough!” My voice boomed around the large Council chamber, stunning the angels into silence.

One of the angels stepped forwards, his white robes trailing behind him. “How dare you raise your voice in—”

“Quiet,” I demanded, stepping closer to the huddle. He immediately closed his mouth, his indignation settling in a pinched brow on his face. “Where is Jegudiel?”

“Not here,” the offended angel snapped.

“I can see that,” I drawled. “I want to know where he is.”

“He is with the Divine One,” another angel added.

I narrowed my eyes at him. I could usually tell when someone was lying, but it was something that didn’t work on angels. They were sneaky when it came to lies. Always omitting something or speaking in half truths.

I also wished I knew what their fucking names were. Something ending in ‘-el’ probably.

“Adriel,” Michael whispered helpfully in my ear.

“Thanks,” I said before turning back to Adriel. He was short with a frantic mess of blonde curls, like he’d been hit with a bolt of lightning, and it had frazzled his edges. He was also young. Too young to be on the Council. “Then I will see the Divine One.”

Adriel shook his head. “Not possible.”

This wasn’t the first time I’d been refused to see the Divine One, and it was starting to worry me. “Why not?”

“Because he expressed a wish not to be disturbed.”

“Adriel, I think you underestimate the seriousness of the situation on the mortal plane. It’s all well and good you sitting here, in your pristine ivory towers, but what happens when chaos ensues and Hell falls? What happens to the Upper Realm and all your pretty towers then?”

He pursed his lips in thought before nodding his head, seemingly having come to some sort of decision. “Come with me.”

Adriel brought us to an antechamber, a small office with views out over the Upper Realm. The place was still quiet, and I found it a little unnerving. There was usually so much energy up here, but it just felt empty.

“Where is everyone?” I asked, as I sat in the chair opposite Adriel.

His expression soured. “No one knows. It’s what the Council were arguing about. Angels and celestials have been disappearing. I believe it’s something to do with Camael and his special task.”

“What task?” Fenris asked before I could.

Adriel’s brow pinched in annoyance. That was angels for you, always looking down their noses at who they considered lesser. Which was basically anyone who wasn’t celestial.

“No one knows,” Adriel clipped. “He’s vanished, along with most of the Guardians.”

Shit. This was bad. The Guardians were supposed to protect the Realm. It was their job to enforce order and protect the Divine One. If they weren’t here, then the Upper Realm was vulnerable. What was Camael doing with Mordecai?

“This is bad, Lucifer,” Michael uttered, bending his head next to mine. The others joined the huddle too.

“Would Camael’s fancy sword be able to separate a witch from their magic?” Saskia asked.

“Yes,” Michael replied. “It can destroy anything.”

Camael’s sword, the Faithkeeper, was a gift from the Divine One. It could kill any kind of being, mortal, immortal, even someone God-like.

“So, if Camael is the one working with Mordecai and separating the witches from their magic, what is he getting out of it?” Edwin asked, his silver eyes dark with apprehension.

I shrugged. “I don’t know.” There wasn’t much a celestial would crave other than to act on behalf of the Divine. Or to smite someone down with righteous zeal.

“Maybe it’s something Mordecai promised him?” Fenris added.

My stomach instantly dropped. I looked at Michael and I could see the same cogs turning in his mind.

I turned to Adriel who had been watching us intently. “Where is my Father? Tell me now.”

The angel blanched. “We don’t know. We think he’s gone to Eden but we—”

“Shit!” I jumped to my feet and fled the room.

“Lucifer, wait!” Michael yelled from behind me.

“What’s going on?” the fire demon asked but I wasn’t listening. No. This couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t possible. It was just a theory.

One I’d shared with Mordecai.

Fuck!

A hand gripped my elbow and wrenched me to a stop.

“Talk to me,” Michael said, his green eyes full of panic. “What has you afraid?”

I looked him dead in the eye. “That the Divine One will cease to exist.”

“What do you mean?” Torsten asked.

“We exist because of the Divine one. He was the first creation and he created all of us,” I said.

“We know all this,” Adriel said. “Through him the worlds were created, carved out of his imagination and he breathed life into all things.”

“But what if he wasn’t the first. What if he’s only all-powerful because the Celestials fuel that power.”

“Sacrilege,” Adriel spat.

“It was just an idea, but Mordecai and I would talk about it for hours. That maybe he was only powerful because the Celestials gave him power. That what if he was just Divine because he made it so.”

“Meaning that it was thereby a thing that could be taken,” Edwin mused aloud.

“Exactly,” I shouted, relieved I was being understood. “Think about it. Celestials believe the Divine One is absolute. I’m not saying that he isn’t, just that maybe we don’t know everything.”

“You’re saying our father lied?” Michael said with a grimace.

“No. I’m saying he didn’t correct anyone.”

Silence enveloped us all as I let that sink in for everyone. I recalled the long nights Mordecai, and we would theorise over everything. I’d rejoiced in the fact that he thought like I did, beyond the realm of possibilities. I’d nurtured it and now, it was going to be my downfall.

“So,” Edwin began, “you think Mordecai has told Camael he can be the next Divine One?”

“I thought his purpose was to protect,” Torsten said. “Would he want that?”

I growled in frustration. This was taking up valuable time.

“If he thought he was doing the right thing, he would,” Adriel said quietly. “He believes in righteousness above all else. It’s his purpose. If he thought that he could save everyone by becoming the Divine One, he would.”

“Don’t you see, Michael. If power is vanishing from the Upper Realm, then the Divine One is also losing power. He will be weak and easy to destroy.”

“And if Mordecai is somehow storing power from the witches, what’s to say he isn’t storing celestial power,” Edwin said grimly.

I hadn’t thought of that. With Camael, he’d be able to utilise any type of power, no matter where it came from.

“Then we have to stop Mordecai,” Michael said firmly.

Adriel stepped forward. “What can I do to help?”