33. Raphael

33

I stare at the torn paper in Hayliel’s hand, wondering if it’s too much to hope that whatever’s written on this page makes sense and isn’t just nonsensical jargon. It would be a miracle, given the state of that damn journal, but I reckon we’re overdue on miracles. It’s time for something to go our way.

She turns it over, giving us the first glimpse of text.

Can it really be?

Pulling out my slate, I bring up the photo I’d taken of the missing entry. When I first took it, I was worried it was a bad idea. If this got into the wrong hands … even if there are no true answers in the photo, it brings light to enough things that we’d rather stay in the dark. Right now, though? Now I’m grateful for the foresight.

We hold up the paper, trying to place it where the torn edges are. Even with all the words now in front of us, it takes effort to read the shredded, worn paper.

I finally did it. After months of trying, I met with the Seraphim twins. Ingrid and Octavius. From the articles, I would have sworn they looked alike, but seeing them up close, it’s easy to spot the differences. It’s also easy to feel just how powerful they truly are. It’s almost hard to stomach. Having been raised in squalor, I expected them to be different. Harder. With sharper edges. But they were kinder than most of my own family members. I didn’t mean to learn their secret. It was purely by accident. But I vowed to them upon my life that I would take it with me to the grave. The information below could change everything if it winds up in the wrong hands. These unbelievable twins weren’t both born Seraphim. In fact, they weren’t even twins at all. Only Octavius was born with the Seraphim gene. Ingrid was born Pure. Looking at them now, though, I almost don’t believe it. I wouldn’t if they hadn’t admitted it to me. A bond. That’s what made it possible. Octavius and Ingrid shared such a strong bond that their essences merged, and once they performed the bond ritual, it was irreversible. One Seraphim turned into two.

The moment I finish reading, my eyes race to meet Hayliel’s. She looks just as surprised as I am.

“There’s a ritual to bond angels?” she asks sheepishly.

You’d think being angels ourselves would mean we’d know the answer, but this is unchartered territory. Or at least, I thought it was. “Honestly? I have no idea. Before this note, I would have said absolutely not. Our special ceremony to wed is as close to a bond ritual as I thought we had. And even so, knowing that my crazed uncle wrote this makes it hard to believe, but …”

“But what?”

I try to decipher the look that flashes behind her dark sapphire eyes. Whatever it is, it spurs me to speak the truth. “But what if it’s real? The connection I’ve felt with you is unlike anything I’ve experienced before. Maybe there’s some merit to what’s written on this page.”

“Maybe.”

I watch as she thinks, and as much as I want to ask her to share, I keep my mouth shut. Glancing at the antique clock on the shelf beside us, I inwardly curse. Shit. Raduriel likely won’t be long now. I don’t want him to know that we’ve found this hiding spot.

Without knowing who taped the picture to the back of that glass, it’s better if we keep this between our trusted group for now.

Once everything is back in its place, I close and lock the cabinet door before beckoning my silent beauty up the stairs and into my old study room. At least here we can talk privately, and when my brother does come, we’ll hear him before he arrives.

She chews on her lip. “I wonder how things went with Uriel today. Has there been any update? I left my slate in your room.”

I nod. “Just that they have news, though, not to get our hopes up too high. We’ll call them once we’re done with my brother, and then hopefully we’ll have a clear plan of action.”

“Hopefully. Do you think Castiel will know more about this? Or maybe his friend that lent him the book about Seraphim?”

“It’s possible. That man knows far more than I would have expected from a history professor. At this point, I refuse to cross anything off without at least trying.”

She chuckles, smiling sweetly. “My parents will like you.”

Heart beating fast, I look at the gorgeous angel sitting on the top of my desk and grin. “Of course they would. I’m charming as shit,” I tease. “At least with a stomach full of food.”

Her hands move to cradle my face, eyes boring into mine. “Always, Raph.”

She pulls me closer and I kiss her hard, unable to stop imagining how she would look sprawled naked across my desk, her legs spread like the pages of a textbook. I could taste her right here. Feast until I’m ready to burst before making her moan so loud that it filtered through the whole damn house.

As I trail kisses down her neck, fully intending to do just that, the door to the library opens and Raduriel calls out, “I’m entering the library.”

Hayliel covers her face, cheeks reddening behind her hands, and I curse. Fucking Rad. Like yes, he’s coming here because that’s what I asked him to do, but dammit. Couldn’t he have kept busy for at least another half an hour? My brother seems to have no issues droning on and on about his accomplishments, so why must he choose now to stop?

I’m slowly pulling away from the delectable woman in front of me when my brother adds, “And now I’m climbing the stairs.”

My sunshine groans softly, and for a second, I worry she’s in pain until she whispers, “How does he know what we were about to do?”

Not pain at all then. Mortification. Fuck, she’s cute.

I laugh, my sour mood turning lighter as I pull her into my arms. “Well, that’s obvious, babe.” I tuck her head under my chin. “With the way you stood up for me at dinner, it’s a wonder I didn’t clear the table and claim you right there in front of everyone. You can thank me later for my discretion.”

Before she can respond, Raduriel raps his knuckles on the open door, a smirk on his stupid face. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

His words cause Hayliel’s face to redden further and now I’m just getting pissed. Making her blush is my job. And Theo’s. And fine, Zeke’s too. But not him. Remember, you need his contact. You can’t flip out at him yet.

Putting on a fake smile, I say, “Is Briathos downstairs?” I didn’t think to get approval from the group on whether we could loop him in on what’s been happening. Not that I’m giving my brother all the details either, but he’s bound to demand at least some information before he helps us. If he’s even willing. But with Briathos and his position at the guild, I’m not sure it’s such a good idea. Zeke hasn’t even told his own father anything yet, or his commanding lieutenant.

“No. I came alone, like you asked. What’s going on?”

Hayliel and I exchange a glance, and despite the earlier outburst or the embarrassment from a few short moments ago, she must see that I haven’t managed to fortify my walls yet.

She turns toward him, drawing her shoulders back. “We actually have a request, and we’re hoping you’ll help us without asking too many questions.”

He looks almost stupefied. If this moment wasn’t important as hell, I’d be laughing my ass off at the sight.

“That’s not cryptic or anything.” His gaze jumps between us, assessing. “I’ll help you with whatever you need, but I can’t promise that I won’t need more information. Does that work?”

I sigh. It’s not ideal, but we expected this would be his response. Besides, nothing says he needs to know all the details, at least not before we can get him to the cave and have his intentions checked. I want to smack myself. Why the hell didn’t we think of that before? That’s the only way I’ll truly trust him at this point.

Hayliel waits for my nod before she agrees, but the clever minx adds a little loophole. “We can agree to that. Though we may not always answer your questions. We’ve been burned before,” she adds when he seems hurt that we wouldn’t trust him.

The entire exchange baffles me. First, that he’s willing to help without even knowing the full story. And second, that he’d be shocked that we—or I—don’t trust him. Has he been living in a fantasy world all these years? He’s never once done anything to make me trust him. Not in a long, long fucking time.

Feeling annoyed, I blurt out, “We need that contact you have for rune stitched clothing.”

He turns wide eyes on me. “Fuck. The rune weaver? What the hell have you gotten yourself into, Raphael?”

An angry retort rests on my tongue, but Hayliel places her soothing hand on my arm, stopping me.

“By the Archangels, everyone in this damn family sure likes to blame Raph.”

“That’s not what I—”

“His only misstep is that he’s associating with me. We need the special clothes for protection because a whole host of shit is about to rain down on us and we’re trying to stop it.”

I take her hand from my arm and pull it to my cheek. “For the record, getting close to you is the furthest thing from a mistake, sunshine.” I didn’t think I could love this woman even more, but here I go. To my brother, I say, “She’s right about one thing, though. Bad things are coming. Hell, they’ve already happened, and we’re just trying to stop it before it’s too late. Can you put me in touch with this rune weaver or not?”

Instead of answering, Raduriel closes the door. Hayliel and I stiffen, unsure why he’s acting strange. Honestly, as sad as it is to admit, I wouldn’t even be surprised if my shitty brother attacked us right here.

He doesn’t, which only causes curiosity to flow through me like the tide.

“I’m going to ask you both a question, one that I probably shouldn’t given it’ll ruin my career if it gets out, but first I need you both to promise that if the answer is no, you won’t breathe a word of it to anyone. Can you do that?”

“Of course,” Hayliel says, then both sets of eyes turn to me where I hesitate. I give in after a moment, agreeing to his terms.

My usually controlled and perfect brother runs a hand through his hair, messing up the strands. “The bad things that are coming. Does it have anything to do with demons?”

Shit. Fuck. Is this a trap? I wouldn’t put it past Raduriel, not if his job is on the line. But even as I think those words, I realize that’s not quite right. He’s putting his career in jeopardy just by talking to us about it. It’s so wildly out of character for him that I can’t wrap my mind around it.

I think we can trust him, at least with the demon part , Hayliel says through our mental connection.

I stand up straighter and prepare to do the one thing I never thought I’d do again. Put my faith in my older brother.

“Yes.”

Raduriel curses and begins to pace. He’s frazzled, and my earlier comfort at seeing him so bent out of shape vanishes. If he knows about the demonic happenings here, things are bad.

“Wait,” Hayliel says, confused. “How do you know about it? I thought you had an office job?”

Her question makes me realize I never really told her much about my family or what they do. The less I talked about my brother or parents, the better. But looking back, maybe that wasn’t the best choice.

“I work closely with the governor and city commissioner, which usually consists of pompous, self-righteous pricks gathering to complain.”

I snort a laugh, which has Rad smiling briefly before it falls.

“Lately, though, things are a lot more serious. I just returned from a sequestered meeting with all the city’s higher ups to discuss the rise in demon attacks, whispers of a Fallen rebellion, and a note from the Archangels.”

I blanch. “They’re aware? The Archangels, I mean.”

He nods. “I read the note myself. They’re planning for war.”

“Against the demons or the Fallen?” Hayliel’s voice trembles, and I know his answer has the power to shift her entire world.

He looks away, unable to meet our eyes. “For anyone who stands against them.”

If they’re talking about an all out war, things are way bigger than we expected and happening on levels we never even could have imagined.

My slate pings and Raduriel says, “I’ve just shared the rune weaver’s contact details with you, and I also let her know she’d be hearing from my brother. I know you might not trust me right now, but I’d like to be kept in the loop and assist however I can with what you’re planning.”

“We’ll have to talk with the others first to make sure they’re on board, but I’d like that,” Hayliel says, and I realize that as much as I thought I’d hate the idea, I don’t. My brother has been more helpful in the last half an hour than he has in over a decade.

I don’t think anyone will disagree with him helping, especially not once we get him to the cave and test his intentions.

We got what we wanted in coming here. The rune weaver. We still have to convince her to help us, or at least fund the clothes, but that won’t be a problem. I just have to hope Theo and Castiel had as good of luck as we did.

Raduriel shifts to face me, his expression solemn. “I’ve been open and honest with you both today because I trust you.” He turns to Hayliel, a small smile lifting his lips, “And your outburst at dinner was glorious and long overdue. It put a lot of things into perspective for me, so thank you for doing what the rest of us should have. Raphael, I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you like I should have. It shouldn’t have taken her speech for me to realize how shitty I’ve been, but I hope you’ll let me make it up to you.”

His words cause a crack to form in my carefully built walls. I’ve waited years for him to have this revelation, and I honestly thought it was past the point of any reconciliation. Yet I can’t ignore the blooming hope cautiously spreading through the seams. On the outside, I keep my expression neutral despite the war raging inside me.

“That said,” he continues, “I’d appreciate if what we discussed today didn’t leave this room, or at least doesn’t go beyond the trusted friends you mentioned.”

The space between us fills with a pregnant pause charged with possibilities for the future. One not filled with the constant pain and betrayal of having my only sibling turn their back on me, and instead stand at my side.

With a nod to my brother, I say, “You have our word.”