Jegudiel (Deadly Virtues 2)

Gabriel and Maria had become close friends, no, more like brother and sister. “Your namesake, the archangel Gabriel, was a guardian, a protector of his people.” She nodded at him. “If those qualities don’t pertain to you, I don’t know what does.”

“Maria.” Gabriel rubbed his hand across his forehead. But her words had had the desired effect. A wave of peace and knowing washed through him. He did believe that things happened for a reason, he always had. He had always trusted his gut feelings as confirmation of something coming his way, of something big and poignant approaching. Right now, his gut was screaming at him to listen to Maria, to Diel, to all his brothers.

He had to trust in his family.

Gabriel looked at the wall, at the priests he had trusted implicitly as a child only to be hurt by them in ways no child—no person, regardless of age—should be hurt by another. “It would be a war, a holy war, that we’d be starting.”

“We haven’t started it, Gabe,” Maria said with conviction. “The Brethren started this the minute they swayed from the church, from the rightful path onto one of evil and sin.”

Gabriel knew she was right. But … “It might expose us. It might lead them straight to our door. Are we even ready for that?” His temple throbbed at the thought of anything happening to his brothers, or to Maria, or to the staff that resided in the manor.

“Not if we’re careful. Just because our gears are changing, it doesn’t mean that we need to falter on the secrecy that has protected us thus far.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re completely sold on this, aren’t you? I can hear the conviction in your voice.”

Maria leaned back against the edge of the table behind her. Her head fell forward in contemplation, and when she lifted it, her eyes were shining. “When I hear what they did to you all …” She swallowed back her emotion, her voice cracking. “When Raphe talks to me, about back then, what you all went through …” She looked away, and when she turned back, tear marks stained her cheeks. “When I see his scars and the brand that they forced upon him, when he wakes in the night desperately searching for me because another memory from his childhood has come back to haunt him, to plague him, to tear him apart …”

Maria sadness was replaced by a swift wave of anger. Gabriel felt as if a hole was caving in his chest at what she was saying about Raphael, about them all. “The Brethren need to be stopped,” Maria said firmly. “They need to be destroyed.” She smirked. “And you have a legion of so-called fallen angels who not only desire this war you speak of, but are capable of winning it.” She pushed away from the table, shoulders strong and chin held high. “I, for one, cannot live with the thought of this sadistic cult of delusional priests hurting anyone else. Any more children.” Maria looked Gabriel dead in the eyes. “Can you?”

Gabriel thought back to the gym, to how his brothers had fought Diel. They’d all risked their lives to try to save him from the darkness that was smothering him, rising day by day inside him. Even though Gabriel’s plan to exorcise the monster had failed, his brothers had still expressed their need to go after the Brethren along with Diel—always each other’s champions, always each other’s fiercest protectors.

Gabriel had had a system in place for years, one adopted from his serial-killer grandfather. That system that had served them well up until now. But the wind the Fallen sailed on was changing and setting them all on a new course, one he prayed was divinely sent and not one that would ultimately lead to their damnation.

Gabriel stood beside Maria, his headache instantly easing as his decision was made.

“How do we do this?”

Maria smiled wide. “I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out.”

So they got to work.

Chapter 2

Noa ran stealthily through the hallway, her feet light as feathers on the plush red carpet as she aimed for the window in the fifth spare room on the second floor. The ice-cold wind drifted in as she turned into the room and climbed out of the open window. Holding the information tightly in her hand, she climbed onto a nearby tree branch and shimmied to the ground. Her long pastel-pink hair was hidden beneath the black hood and attached scarf that covered her head and most of her face. Only her brown eyes could be seen, the leather pants and long-sleeved top making her completely unidentifiable. Not that anyone would see her. Noa was the best at what she did, and she didn’t allow any mistakes.

She ran to the waiting car. She slipped into the driver’s seat and swiftly made her way from the rich suburbs of Boston to her home on the outskirts. Discarding the car in its usual spot in the underbrush, Noa ran to the entrance of her home—the old, discarded secret tunnels the American spies had used in the War of Independence. She climbed down into the hidden entranceway. The minute she was swallowed in darkness, Noa pushed back her hood and scarf, breathing in the dank air that she associated with safety. She walked down the maze of tunnels that led her to where her sisters waited.