CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Holding his Divine Sword up at the ready, Jackson took a cautious step inside. It was deathly quiet; the only things he could hear were the muffled sounds of battle clamoring in from outside. Each step he took echoed in the large open chamber.
Lit candles flickered along each side of the row of Grecian columns topped by Corinthian capitals. A slight draft made the flames waver, casting orange-tinted shadows that danced along the arched ceiling.
Gabriel sat, alone, at the head of the large Council table.
“I must admit, some part of me is quite happy to see you, Jackson. I’m impressed you made it this far. We trained you well.”
Of all the Council members, only Gabriel remained. An ageless king upon an ageless throne.
His shock of white hair glinted more brightly as ever. Shadows danced in and out of his face.
Jackson carefully continued walking in, making sure to keep the Divine Sword between him and the True Immortal. Gabriel seemed quite untroubled.
“I’m afraid that whatever victory you have had here will be a short-lived one, Jackson,” said Gabriel. “And only what some might call a moral one. The demons will not fall today. I’ve made sure of it.”
“How could you?” Jacks asked. He looked at the ancient True Immortal before him, the Angel who had been symbol of all that was righteous and pure since his childhood.
Gabriel just shook his head. “After all we’ve been through, all our talks, I thought we had an understanding. That you had moved beyond weak, immature sentimentality to a bigger, more important revelation. I thought you understood what is necessary for the Angels to thrive. I overestimated your capacity for understanding such complex, eternal matters. My heart grows heavy thinking of how you betrayed me. Betrayed us. Betrayed the Angels.”
Jackson was incredulous. “You’re the one who has betrayed.”
“Jackson. You didn’t really think we’d let humans, the weakest creatures of all, run this planet, did you?” Gabriel said. “All Immortals are of the same family, Jackson. Whether of the light or of the darkness. And now is our moment to stand together and take hold of our common destiny. For too long we perfect Immortals have dealt with humanity’s defects and weaknesses. No longer. Today, we take our birthright. I’m just disappointed you won’t be joining us, Jackson. I really had high hopes for you. I see now that my ju
dgment was wrong.”
Gabriel’s face showed genuine regret. He was thoroughly convinced of the rightness of his actions.
“But my biggest regret is allowing you to grow as strong as you did,” Gabriel went on. “I should never have let you become influential enough to draw the other Immortals to you. The law of the Angels will land harshly upon all those you persuaded to leave.”
“Everyone has joined,” Jacks said.
“Yes, well. The punishment will surely take a long time,” said Gabriel. “But eventually, they will be let back in. And they will come back, don’t you worry. Once they see how miserably you’ve failed. How you’ve led them astray trying to deprive them of their destinies. They will come to curse the Godspeed name.
“I’m sure it’s difficult for you to understand how much damage you’ve done in so short a time. But I’d like you to at least try,” Gabriel said. “It will take us very long to fix the wreckage that you’ve caused. We’ll have to rebuild our loyalties, bring everyone back into the fold. It will likely take years, even decades. But fix it we will. Trust me, Jackson. With humanity no longer bothering us, we will have all the time in the world. Angels will become utterly ascendant, the way it always should have been.”
“Do you really think the demons will just stop once they’re done with the humans?” Jacks said. “You think you can trust a Dark Angel? They’ll turn to the Angels next.”
Gabriel smirked. “I’ve known them a long time, Jackson. I know their secrets. All of them. I know how to deal with them. They wouldn’t dare cross me.” He paused. “They . . . fear me.
“The lower orders of the Earth will be fully given over to the Dark Angels. Humans are their natural playthings,” Gabriel said. “And we Angels will take our rightful place as the fully acknowledged preeminent beings in the world. We’ll no longer have to worry about petty mortal annoyances. We’ll be able to fix our thoughts always on the perfect, Angelic nature from which we come.”
Jacks stepped forward, his Divine Sword leading the way. “Call them off. The demons. It’s over. The Angels aren’t following you anymore. You’re alone in this.”
Gabriel laughed at this. “They’ll do as they’re told once this is all over. Just like they always have. But you’re too young to know that,” Gabriel said.
Suddenly Gabriel stood up. He almost seemed larger than life. “Believe me when I say this, Jackson. It gives me no joy to think that I will have had to kill two members of the Godspeed line.”
“What?” Jacks said. What did he mean, two? He didn’t fully understand, but blood began rushing into his head and limbs, as if his body knew what was happening before his mind could make sense of it.
“Your father, Jacks,” Gabriel said. “We could not allow him to live.”
“But his killers were brought to trial. . . .” Adrenaline and shock shook Jackson to the very core. His knees wavered and nearly buckled as the weight of revelation was forced upon him.
“I am the Angels, Jackson. Nothing happens without my knowledge.” Gabriel’s expression was grave, but then it twisted into an almost sadistic grimace. “And I did that particular job myself.”
Gabriel killed my father. Jackson had sat for how many hours with Gabriel, a sworn True Immortal, founder of the Council of Twelve. He’d been the embodiment of everything a leader should be, the very Angel who had brought the others out of hiding and into the open. Gabriel had even told him how exemplary a Guardian Jackson’s father had been. And all that time, he’d just been pouring words into Jackson’s ears, completely unfazed by the fact that he’d murdered the father of the Angel sitting next to him. How many times had Gabriel put a comforting, fatherly hand on Jackson’s shoulder? If only Jackson had known it had been the hand of death.