Sins of the Lost

“Not a word. I think we can count on the Church to keep him and the scrolls under pretty tight wraps until they figure out what to do with their information. Worst case scenario, they go to governments with it—they’re not interested in creating a worldwide panic.”

Which is exactly what would happen if the general public learned of the scrolls’ existence. And their content. Alex held back a shudder at the thought of the world’s reaction to knowing the reality of Heaven and Hell.

“I hope you’re right. I just wish we could have confirmation on that.”

“Hey, as long as it stays off the Internet and out of the hands of the nutcases, I’m happy. Which reminds me, I’ve had a look at the list of what the tech guys are monitoring for. It’s pretty focused on end of the world and wrath of God stuff. I think we need to expand it to include”—his voice dropped to a murmur—“you know, the other.”

“You mean angels?”

“And their offspring.”

“You want to put the Nephilim on a list of watch words? You’re a brave man. Have you decided how you’ll explain where you came up with the idea?”

“I was hoping you might take care of that at your end. Your boss is a little more . . . tolerant of these ideas than mine.”

“I’ll talk to him.”

“So how’s the other stuff going? Any give from your other half with regard to helping us out?”

Alex’s grip on the phone tightened until pain radiated from her knuckles through her wrist. “Some. He’s looking into the babies that are disappearing. Trying to find out where they’re being taken.”

“The ones that haven’t been taken by various governments, you mean.” Henderson grunted. “It’s about bloody time he came around. Those superpowers of his would come in handy right now, wouldn’t they?”

She choked on her inhale. “I should go. I’m still canvassing the neighborhood, and I’d like to finish before midnight.”

Silence. Then, suspiciously, “What aren’t you telling me, Jarvis?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit. Spill.”

A thousand demons hammered at the inside of her skull—a metaphor far too close to actuality for peace of mind. “I have a new partner. Well, a new old partner. Aramael is back. One of the Fallen has been watching me.”

“What the hell, Jarvis?” Henderson growled. “I thought you were done.”

“Trust me, so did I.”

“When?”

“This morning.”

“Does Seth know?”

Trust the Vancouver detective to get right to the heart of the matter. “Not yet.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“I have to.” That, and a whole lot more.

“He’s not going to like it.”

“You called him the soulmate you can never have. Is that how you think of him?”

“No,” she said. “No, he’s not. And now I really do have to go, Hugh.”

“All right. But you call me if you need me, Alex. Anytime. I mean it. I don’t care if it’s three in the morning, understand?”

She gave a nod the Vancouver detective couldn’t see and ended the call.

Chapter 28

Seth glowered at the Archangel standing stiffly in the doorway.

“Finally come to finish what you started?”

“To talk.”

“I know what you want. The answer is no.”

“The Naphil told you?” Surprise flickered across Mika’el’s face.

“It’s true, then. You did visit her.”

Mika’el’s eyes narrowed. “She didn’t tell you. Then how do you know?”

“Like the rest of my life, that would be none of your bloody business.” He moved to close the door again, but the Archangel’s hand snaked between it and the frame, pushing back.

“We need your help.”

Seth stared, torn between laughing at him and slamming the other’s hand in the door. “After what you tried to do to me? Are you out of your mind?”

“I did what was necessary.”

“You tried to have me killed, Archangel, and the One—my own mother—went along with you.”

“It wasn’t an easy decision for her. We’d run out of options.”

“Cry me a fucking river.”

A muscle in the Archangel’s jaw twitched. “You’re the one who reneged on his duty in the first place,” he snapped. “None of this would have happened if you had done as you were supposed to do.”

“Bullshit. At best I might have been able to delay the inevitable a little longer, but that was all. Because war is just that—inevitable. Whatever choice I made would have been ignored by both sides. Lucifer wouldn’t have given up—won’t give up—until every last mortal is wiped from the face of this planet. You know it, I know it, and she knows it. This battle will never end.”

“There won’t be a battle if you don’t shut up and listen.”

“I’m not interested.”

Mika’el shoved the door wider. “This isn’t about the One or Lucifer, damn it. It’s about the survival of the mortal race.”

“Not interested in them, either.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, you live with them.”

“I live with Alex.”

“She’s one of them.”

Seth scowled. Samael had used the same words. Sought to make the same distinction that, despite Seth giving up his divinity, Alexandra was mortal in a way he could never be. He jutted out his chin.

“She’s different.”

“Because she’s Nephilim?”

Because she’s mine. “Maybe.”

“That doesn’t make her any less mortal.”

“And if I take back the power? Will that make her any less mortal?”

“You know it won’t.”

“You’re bloody right, it won’t. I also won’t get any more time with her than I have now—in fact, I won’t get any time with her at all, will I? I’ll have to give her up, return to Heaven, and watch her die with the rest of humanity without interfering because my mother’s rules won’t permit it. Isn’t that what taking back my power will mean?”

“Damn it, Seth, the entire human race—”

“Isn’t it?”

Mika’el said nothing.

“Then fuck the power, and fuck you,” Seth said viciously. “I damn near died—twice!—to get to where I am now, Mika’el. Don’t you get it? I love Alex as I have never loved anything or anyone before. I will not give up what precious little time I have with her for the sake of an already dying world. Now get the Hell out of my life—and hers.”