Uriel's Descent (Ubiquity #1) (18 page)

Ronnie backed Ari into another tree, but apparently she expected it this time. She ducked under one blade, drove a shoulder enveloped in ethereal flame into Ronnie’s abdomen, and then rolled aside. A dull throb spilled through Ronnie, and she doubled over. Pushing the pain aside, she whirled and faltered.

Michael stood at the edge of the clearing in his full angelic form, sword drawn. He made Gabe’s glory look like a cheap magic trick. He both blended with the sunlight and exuded it, and his wings were a stunning charcoal.

Fortunately for Ronnie, she wasn’t the only one at a standstill. Ari’s eyes were wide, her gaze locked on Michael. He wasn’t going to distract Ronnie from the fight.

She snarled “Ariel! Are we doing this?”

“What is
this
?” Michael’s tone matched the aura he radiated.

“I’m so sorry.” His presence drained the fight from Ari. She stepped back, eyes wide and sunken. “I didn’t… I just wanted… I’m sorry.”

Ronnie gave a short laugh. “Don’t you dare. Don’t turn your phony, bullshit, puppy dog eyes on him. You’re only sorry you got caught.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Judgment isn’t your place, Uriel.”

Part of Ronnie wanted to shrink under the glare, and bits of her shriveled at the way
that name
rolled off his tongue, but she was intent on her goal. She never took her attention from Ari. How dare he interfere? “You don’t know that. What if judgment was my job before this?”

“Don’t forget who the enemy is.”

“If you do this because of a personal vendetta, you won’t be happy with the outcome.” His response shook the trees.

“I’ve lived through worse.”

“
Uriel
.”

The name made her mind flinch. Why didn’t she like hearing the sound of that? “My name is Ronnie.” She struggled to keep the anger and force in her voice, but her blades sparkled and faded from sight. She stepped closer to Ari. If Ronnie couldn’t finish her off and send her back to her ethereal home, the fight was still going to end on her terms. Ronnie would send her away because she wanted Ari to go, not because Michael ordered it. “Maybe he deserves a little of your worship after all. He just saved your life. Go.”

With the single command, Ronnie made Ari vanish from sight, phasing her back to her apartment, while Ronnie stayed where she was. Neat. It was nice to know she could do that. Ronnie turned on Michael. “Why did you stop me?”

“I told you why.”

She laughed, but his response made her ache inside. Had he really picked Ari over her? “I thought we were in this together. Is this going to be like last time? When I thought you were by my side, and you let Gabriel slaughter me instead?”

Wait. That wasn’t what happened. And how did Ronnie know that?

“It might as well have been.”

Michael reached for her. “No, this isn’t like last time, and that wasn’t you. We
are
in this together.”

Ronnie stepped away. “Then will you stop me, if I pay Gabriel a visit?”

He exhaled loudly, disappointment shining in his eyes. “Yes.”

Ronnie frowned and turned away. That he would stand in her way hurt more than any sword to the gut. “Then I should be grateful you can’t.” And with that, she left.

Ronnie didn’t know what raced through her, but it was exhilarating and maddening and euphoric, all at the same time. Snippets of memories danced at the edge of her thoughts but flitted away before she could grasp them. There was too much rage and vengeance for her to focus on anything else for more than a few seconds.

She should have listened to Michael. It was wrong for her to be here.

“He’s still got his weaknesses. He doesn’t understand this. Do you really think Ari would have let us live? Do you think she cared?”

No. Ronnie knew it in a way that sent daggers of betrayal through her chest. She appeared in front of Gabriel’s coffee shop. He’d give her answers, or she’d draw them out with her blades.

“Stop.” Michael materialized between Ronnie and the door, wings spread and sword drawn.

“Move.” Fire and ice raced across her skin, through her hair, and all around them. Her aura clashed and danced with his.

“No.”

She studied his form—so much ancient power, and so much weaker than he used to be. How did she know that? There were tiny fractures in his aura. As he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, whispers of light snuck through his blade.

“Even if you were serious about stopping me, which you’re not doing a great job of, you’re not strong enough.”

Everything angelic about him faded. His blade sparkled into a pile of glitter and vanished, his wings evaporated, and the lightning radiating from his quasi-mortal form ebbed. “Talk to me.”

She stepped in, shoulder to his, to shove him aside. He moved with her, resting his hand on her cheek and drawing her gaze to his. “Uriel. Please.” His tone dropped in volume, but not strength.

A whimper rose in her chest—hers, but not.
That’s not my name.
But it was. She shook her head to get rid of the confusion, and forced indifference through her mind. “Move or I’ll cut you down.”

He dropped his hands at his sides, palms out. “If that’s the only way to do this.”

“No. Make him move. We have to finish Gabe once and for all.”

The mental plea wasn’t enough to make her act. “Let me find Gabriel.”

Finger under her chin, he raised her head. “There are other ways to get answers, and we both know one of them.”

Answers? For us?

“There’s no better way for revenge, though.” Even as half her brain considered Michael’s words, the other half tore on toward obliterating Gabriel.

“He killed us in cold blood. Took away everything. Stuck us in this shitty life. We will make him bleed for eternity.”

The thoughts were so distinct, they might as well have been hers, but the words didn’t feel right when she tried to force them out. He hadn’t done those things to her. He was an insistent bastard about their relationship, but…

“He needs to pay. And then we’ll find Ari. When this is all over, we will have our life back.”

We?
They weren’t— Dizziness rocketed through her skull. She cringed and tried to shake it away. “I don’t… I need…” What was I trying to say?

“Stop.” The command was gentler this time. He glided his fingers along her jaw to the back of her neck and dipped his head to brush his lips over hers.

The barely-there kiss chased away some of her fury, and she scrambled to cling to the anger. But why?

“This isn’t fair. Why now?”

He broke away and rested his forehead against hers. “You know why you can’t do this, don’t you? Why it’s not right to hunt down Gabriel and Ariel and exact vengeance on them?”

“No.”

The protest was weak, and no part of her believed it. He was right earlier. Vengeance wasn’t her place.

“No, it’s Gabriel’s, and he deserves to get as good as he gives. He took something from us. Let’s take something from him in return.”

The rage wasn’t there though. It evaporated as rapidly as it set in.

Michael still watched her, waiting for an answer.

“I know,” Ronnie said.

“So we can talk about this?”

“I don’t want to talk.” She heard too much talking as it was. In her head, at work… There were always voices. And she didn’t even know which were hers.

“Okay.” He intertwined his fingers with hers, and the world faded around them. She clung to the emptiness as the seconds dragged on, confusion racing back in as they solidified in front of Izzy’s church.

“What are we doing here?” Not that she minded visiting Izzy, but she wondered what Michael’s reasons were.

He pulled her toward a side door that opened to a flight of stairs. “I told you. Answers.”

She let him lead her, still struggling with the rage that had enveloped her and then vanished as quickly as it appeared. They paused at the top of the stairs, in front of a gray door with so much paint chipping away, she saw the metal underneath. All the confusion tumbled to the back of her mind when the door swung open.

“Izzy.” She threw her arms around his neck. Relief and joy coursed through her at the familiar face.

He gave her a squeeze. “Angel. I shouldn’t have left when you were last here. I’ve been looking for your other half for centuries, and I just hopped on a plane to Fiji instead.”

“She’s not my
other half
.” She pulled back, studying him with a scowl.

“You haven’t had a chance to fill her in.”

*

Michael nudged Ronnie forward. “It’s been an interesting couple of hours.” He made himself comfortable on the couch.

Izzy shook his head and settled in his favorite chair. “You tell me our mutual friend hosts an original in her head and what came
after
was interesting?”

Ronnie sank onto the couch next to Michael, and he couldn’t help a smile at her nearness. “Apparently, the world is a more fascinating place than I realized. How do you two know each other?”

“She’s got good taste in coffee and men. We were bound to meet eventually.” His comment teased a smile from Ronnie. He nodded to the books he showed Michael earlier. “To fill you in, angel,” he looked at Ronnie, “It took some cross-referencing to make sense of it, but the gist is there are angels who fall but still find a way to have access to His power. I understand the big guy over here outed me as having done this myself. So I have a little bit of an idea of what you’re going through.”

He was talking about the cherub Michael helped him claim. It wasn’t a secret, but as Ronnie put it earlier, he wasn’t exactly out, either. Lucifer knew, but there was always a concern someone from Ubiquity would come after him if they figured it out.

“But you’re not quite the same. You planted one foot in mortality, and the cherub was young, without memories of its own.” Michael said.

Izrafel shuffled the books around. “Metatron’s an original. Since there were only four of you, no, there’s no precedent.”

“What about angels coming back from the dead in general?” Ronnie’s voice was tiny. Almost scared.

“They don’t.” Izrafel finally looked up. “They don’t die—not as angels. They fall and die mortal, or they stay where they are.”

“What about Metatron?”

He shook his head. “Metatron didn’t die.”

Michael frowned. “You were there. You know otherwise.”

“You and Gabriel were there, and even you can’t tell me what actually happened.”

“She faded. Her energy left. She was nothing but an empty shell.” Michael struggled to keep the emotion from his words, but the memories slammed into his skull like a freight train. Reliving her death, even as a passing mention, gripped his chest and made his entire body tense.

“Yes,” Izrafel said. “As far as I can tell, that all happened, but she didn’t die. The shell that was still there? A representation of her. It would have vanished if she did. I’ve never, anywhere, found anything to indicate she’s gone for good. Her light left, but she wasn’t destroyed.”

All those years. The grieving. Would knowing she still existed in some form have made a difference? “Why haven’t you ever told me this before?” No. She still would have been gone, and at least this way, Michael had moved on. Part of him still belonged to her, but this was his present now, she was his past. The realization hit him hard. He didn’t need her ghost haunting him.

Izrafel’s eyes softened with sympathy and pity. “You’ve never gotten over her. I wasn’t going to make it worse. Even if she’s not dead, she’s not here. Or she wasn’t.” He turned to Ronnie, gaze traveling her entire form before locking on her eyes again. “What’s your name?”

“You know my name.” She pursed her lips. It would have been cute if the situation weren’t so serious.

“I do. But do you?” Izrafel said.

Her jaw worked up and down for several seconds before she responded. “Ronnie.”

“Your given name.”

The exchange fascinated Michael. He saw the shift in the park. The way Ronnie’s aura flared and sparkled like a million colored gems in the afternoon sun. There was no question, the mud vanished, and both auras shone like daytime.

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. “Uriel,” she finally blurted out.

“Making sure.”

She sank back into the cushions, drumming her fingers on her leg.

He moved from his seat and kneeled in front of her. “You wanted to say Metatron.”

The light went on for Michael. The reason she acted so odd in the park… The immense power that spilled from her. She wasn’t completely Uriel right now.

“This isn’t fun. What do you know that I don’t?” Ronnie said.

Izrafel explained in detail about fallen angels, cherubs, and what he called
going rogue.

Ronnie rolled her eyes. “Old news, really. Since one just tried to off me in the park.”

The reminder of Ariel yanked at Michael’s pity and rage.

“But you’re special.” Izrafel traced a line down the side of her face before standing and making himself comfortable in the chair again. “This wasn’t an instance of a random cherub and a willing agent. Someone stuck Metatron inside your head—you, an individual with your own life and memories—without consulting either one of you first.”

Ronnie gave him a weak smile. “No offense, but I’ve pretty much already guessed most of this.”

He didn’t flinch. “And the two of you are finally starting to merge.”

Michael understood the changes in her aura correctly. He didn’t know how he felt about that. One personality always became dominant when two clashed, even if they merged. Memories would be shared, but someone would lose out. When Ronnie squeezed his hand, his doubt scattered. Uriel deserved this chance.

Ronnie glanced at him. “Michael told me he helps cherubs merge with hosts, but that he couldn’t predict the outcome in my case. That’s not an option for me. I like being
me.
And why is she in my head in the first place?”

Michael spoke quietly, already knowing the answer. “You’d have to ask the person who put her there. I don’t suppose you know who it was? Lucifer maybe?”

“Why would he do that? The Easter Bunny seems just as likely.”

“What’s the first thing you remember?” Izrafel asked.

“Sand? Vast patches of people-free land. A temple in the middle of the desert?”

Michael tightened his grip on her hand. He had the same memories. He used to meet Metatron there when they wanted to escape it all and go somewhere quiet. He’d found her there, dying.

Izrafel shook his head. “First thing
you
remember, not Metatron.” His voice was soft and coaxing. “You can tell the difference. Focus on what’s yours.”

“Waking up in Lucifer’s office in hell.”

“Then you have to ask him or the Easter Bunny why you and Metatron share a body.”

Michael growled. “Show of hands… Who here thinks he’ll give a straight answer?”

The lack of hands in the air was all the answer Michael needed.