Jegudiel (Deadly Virtues 2)

“Diel. Are you back with us?” the blond asked.

Other faces came into view, all of them familiar. None of them belonging to the Brethren. No Father Brady. No Father Quinn. No torture room or burning pillar candles. Diel’s hand twitched. The one with black hair stepped in front of the blond, teeth bared, ready to bite.

“Michael,” the blond said, carefully placing a hand on the dark-haired man’s arm. “It’s okay. Let me talk to him.” The dark one’s ice-blue eyes narrowed on Diel, but he moved to let the blond back through, although he stayed close to his side.

Michael. The one with fangs was called Michael.

Diel looked at the blond again. Gabriel.

Diel looked at the others who were now coming closer. Red hair—Bara. Tattoos—Uriel. Golden eyes—Raphael. And long dark hair—Sela. Sela, his closest friend.

“You back, brother?” Sela leaned down a little, meeting Diel’s gaze.

Diel closed his eyes and breathed. These men weren’t the Brethren. They were his family. Diel felt his monster pacing, wanting to keep up the fight, continue the spree. Wanting to punish Michael for even fucking daring to touch him, wanting to rip out his fangs and pierce his throat. But when Diel opened his eyes, Gabriel was crouching beside him, studying him. Gabriel’s face was pale, and there were bright red marks on his neck—finger marks. Diel’s finger marks.

“I want the Brethren,” Diel rasped, for once his own desires aligning with that of his monster’s. Gabriel froze. The room went completely silent.

Eventually, Sela reached down and offered Diel his hand. Michael hovered behind Gabriel, his gaze never leaving Diel, tracking his every move. Diel took Sela’s hand, and Sela helped him into a sitting position. “I want the fucking Brethren,” Diel said again, and Gabriel took a deep, frustrated breath.

“Diel, we can’t, we must—”

“I don’t want the others! I don’t give a fuck about the other ones we’ve been killing, the ones who ‘deserve it.’ I want the Brethren.” Diel’s pulse started to race and the collar hissed in warning. “I need to kill the fucking Brethren.”

“I second that.” Raphael was staring at the string around his finger. He looked up and addressed Gabriel. “I need their necks under my hands.”

“Raphe—”

“I agree,” Bara said, interrupting Gabriel. The redhead crossed his arms over his chest. His skin was scratched, torn and bleeding from the fight with Diel.

“Me too.” Uriel nudged his chin in Diel’s direction in support.

“And me,” Sela said, his jaw tight.

Gabriel stared at the artist. “You would want that? Even knowing who you might face?”

Sela’s lip hooked up in dark amusement. “Let’s just say there’s no love lost between him and me, if that’s what you’re getting at. I’ll face him one day. It will happen eventually. I’ll make sure of it.”

“I want them too.” Gabriel’s head snapped up when Michael, his true, blood-related brother, spoke. Gabriel watched as Michael stared at the vial around his neck, a flush coating his pale cheeks.

“I know it’s what you all want.” Gabriel ran his hand down his face. “But that’s a Pandora’s Box I’m not sure we should open. Ever open.” Diel’s head twitched in annoyance, but he got to his feet, only catching the carnage around the gym in his peripheral. Carnage he had caused. “I don’t even know where they all are, who they all are. I’ve spent years learning how to avoid them, not to walk right into their path.”

“We’re meant to destroy them,” Bara said. Uriel nodded in agreement with his best friend. “We escaped Purgatory to kill them. I know it. And I know you do too, Angel.”

Gabriel sighed, shutting down the topic, then looked back at Diel. “Are you okay now? Are you calmer?” Diel gave him a curt nod, but it was a temporary peace between him and his monster; everyone in the gym knew that. Gabriel knew that most of all. Despite the collar’s current effectiveness, Diel understood that the monster’s need to kill was only growing stronger—the need to kill the Brethren, to finally claim the ones who’d hurt them, who still lived in the world, free and unpunished. Diel was a ticking time bomb. He knew Gabriel understood that too by the obvious worry in his blue eyes.

The Brethren were going to die by Diel’s hands, sanctioned by Gabriel or not.

* * *

Gabriel sat staring into the fire. The grandfather clock ticked a hypnotizing rhythm beside him. The room was in complete darkness but for the orange flames that climbed up the chimney in front of him. He was dressed back in his clerical suit, showered and shaved after the nightmare that the gym session had become.

Gabriel had thought letting Diel exorcise his frustrations would help; instead, it seemed to have had the opposite effect. Gabriel knew his brothers. He knew their every emotion, knew how to read them better than they could read themselves.