Jegudiel (Deadly Virtues 2)

“Breathe.” A voice came close. The monster roared, needing out, clawing at Diel’s insides to escape the collar and kill anyone who was close. “Breathe, brother,” Diel heard again, and he held on to that voice by the skin of his teeth. “Breathe.” He pushed back the monster, sucking in a deep breath at the amount of strength it took just to keep himself in his own body and not give over to the darkness. “Let your pulse slow.”

With a strained bellow and sweat dripping down his face, Diel pushed the monster back, and he breathed, just as the familiar voice had instructed. He knew that voice. He trusted that voice.

Gabriel … it was Gabriel.

The red mist cleared from Diel’s eyes, and the wooden floor came into view. His hands were splayed on the floorboards. His neck flamed from the shock of the collar. He breathed fast, erratically, chest aching and lungs burning. His mouth was dry. Almost as if he’d read Diel’s mind, Sela crouched down beside him and handed him a glass of water. Diel forced his tensed muscles to move, and he sat back on his haunches. No, Sela hadn’t read his mind. His best friend was used to this. All his brothers were getting increasingly used to this.

Sela threaded his arm underneath Diel’s and helped him get to his feet and sit back in his chair. The minute his ass hit the seat, Diel felt the lethargy kick in. He looked up to see his brothers watching him, before Gabriel retook his place beside Maria at the head of the table and got straight to the point.

“We’re going after the Brethren. From this day forward, our mission in life will be to rid the world of the pretender priests we know all too well. Our own commandments still stand, always will. But our targets have changed.”

“You know where they are hiding?” Raphael asked.

“No.” Maria leaned on the table. “But we’re working on it.” She glanced at Gabriel and nodded, something unspoken passing between them.

“We don’t have much, but we have a couple of leads. It at least gives us a place to start.” Gabriel stepped back from the table. “We’re meeting in the Tomb for Revelation in ten minutes. This begins tonight.”

The fatigue weighing Diel down burst into smithereens the minute Gabriel said those words. Gabriel and Maria moved toward the stairs that led to the Tomb.

Once they’d disappeared, Sela sat back in his chair, running his hands through his hair. He blew out a breath. “We’re finally going after them.”

“About fucking time,” Bara said, cheeks bright with excitement.

“I’m gonna enjoy this,” Uriel said darkly, biting on his lip, his silver lip ring caught between his teeth as it glinted off the ornate chandelier above the dining table.

“So many necks to choke, so little time,” Raphael said, the string around his finger as tight as always.

Michael circled his long, black-painted nail around the rim of his glass of blood. He clutched the vial around his neck with his other hand, not offering a single spoken word, as always.

Diel rocked back and forth on his seat, itching to move, to kill, to kill the fucking red-dog-collar-wearing fucks who’d tortured him, who’d caged his monster and torn him apart.

A hand landed on his shoulder. “Let’s go, brother. It’s time,” Sela said, and they all rose from the table and made their way to the stairs. The dank air of the Tomb drifted into Diel’s nose as his feet descended the slippery stone steps. The sound of their footsteps echoed his thudding heartbeat.

Gabriel and Maria waited at the Fallen’s altar, red robes in place and hoods over their heads. But it was the scroll Gabriel held that Diel became fixated on. He needed that scroll to bear his name. He needed to be the one to go at the Brethren first. He needed to sate the monster’s cravings for death before the monster consumed him.

Sela handed Diel his robe, and Diel threw it on. He pulled up his hood, his heavy breathing circling like a vortex in the confinements of the thick material. He dropped to his knees on the stone floor beside his brothers and waited for Gabriel to step forward and begin.

Diel held his breath as Gabriel walked along his kneeling brothers. But then Gabriel stopped in front of him and held out the scroll. Time slowed as Diel reached out and took it, the parchment burning his palm with how much he needed this release.

Getting to his feet, Diel ripped off his cloak, then ran upstairs. He opened the scroll on the dining table in the Nave and let his eyes scan the names on the scroll. Five of them. Five different houses to hit. Every fucker on the list a member of the Brethren.

He felt his brothers gather around him, reading the scroll too. “Five of them,” Bara said, his voice dropping an octave, desire lacing each word. Diel whipped his head to his redheaded brother before reading the names on the scroll again. Bara’s eyes were closed, and his usually pale skin was a scarlet red. “Imagine the screams.” Bara groaned. “Like a fucking symphony.”