Archive of Our Own

Work Text

“25 years ago, God disappeared. His angels held man responsible and declared war on humanity. The Archangel Gabriel led this war of extermination, hoping to rid the world of humans and claim dominion over it. Some higher angels refused to take sides, but the lower angels joined Gabriel. These lesser spirits lacked bodies, so their first line of attack was to steal ours. But Michael, the greatest of all Archangels, chose to fight for man. With his help, the survivors struck back and built strongholds to defend themselves. Soon, word spread of a baby Michael had saved, a child who would grow up to be mankind’s savior. This Chosen One would be known by the markings on his body. Finally, Gabriel and his army retreated, and we were left with the realization that not only are angels real…they are our most hated enemies.”

“Angel: (n) 1. In the beginning the Lord said, let there be cosmos. So when you arrive it is as a mass of burning stardust, suns for bones and constellations for eyes. Your body, a winged fragment of space. The people will never be able to know the true form of your, but subconsciously they still fear what lives inside you. Your wildernesses. Your uncondensability. Your many blue-tinted hungers.” - Keaton St. James~~~~~Selene stretched her arm across the bed, fingers probing for the warm body that should have been pressed against her side. “Michael?” She mumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she sat up on her elbows, finding the bed empty beside her. “Typical.” Selene mumbled, grabbing the note waiting for her on the pillow. Stretching her arms above her head with a yawn, Selene sat up and out of the corner of her eye spotted the Archangel. His silhouette was tinged blue, haloed by the ever-shining lights of Vega as he stood in front of the open balcony doors, the early morning breeze stirring the curtains into motion.“Did I wake you?” Michael asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he glanced over his shoulder at her. She stood and dragged her hands through her hair, fingers nimbly weaving out the remnants of sleep.
She hopped over to him as she pulled on the pants she had discarded earlier and yanked a fresh t-shirt over her head. “Your absence did.” Selene replied, sliding her arms into her jacket with its distinctive silver bands around the arms identifying her as the Archangel’s Second in Command. “You have that look in her eye.” Her voice was tired. “What has my brother done now?”Michael sighed, rolling his shoulders. “He took a truck outside the wall and led an 8-Ball back to the city.” He answered. “He’s currently being threatened with Realignment. It seems he’s forgotten who bears the brunt of his punishment.”Selene nodded mutely, bending down to lace up her combat boots. “Let’s get this over with.”†“Exiting the city with a vehicle is a Realigning Offence.” The Angel Corps Captain hissed as he leaned in close to Alex. “You’ll get purged down to V-0 for this.” He sneered. “An untouchable.”Alex smirked, showing a glimpse of his canines. “Better than making a home in Michael’s ass to be a V-3 like you.”The Captain frowned, bracing his hands on the table. “How’d you do it? You reprogram one of the gates? Crack the--” He was cut off by the door to the interrogation room opening quietly behind Alex and the Captain rolled his eyes, cracking his knuckles as he strode out of the room with a huff.“Leave the whip.” Michael’s voice was flat as his gaze settled on Alex. “You know the rules and why they exist.” He stated, hand flexing around the handle. “Everything in Vega has a purpose -- that’s how the city survives.”The Archangel circled Alex, his eyes glinting like a lion stalking its prey as Selene watched from the shadows of the doorway. “Founding law.” She said cooly, enjoying the way her brother jumped at the sound of her voice as she stepped forward. “For the protection and good of all, gates are inviolable. ”“We have a right to leave.” Alex shot back, glaring at his sister. “We all do.” He insisted, hands clenched into fists against the metal surface of the table.“No, you don’t. You know that V-6 and below are not allowed to leave the city without Senate approval.” Selene countered, blue eyes luminous in the pale fluorescent light. “Now, tell us about the angels.” She ordered, clasping her hands behind her back as she settled into parade rest.Alex sighed, hating how, despite the fact that they were the same age, his sister never failed to make him feel small when she looked at him like that. Relationship with the Archangel aside, Alex couldn’t help but grudgingly salute Selene for all that she had achieved in the same amount of time he’d had. “There were three of ‘em. All 8-Balls.” He said after a moment. “But something was different about them. There was a soldier - with wings! He could transform his body.”“Where were they?” Michael inquired, wrapping the whip loosely in his right hand. “What were they doing?”“A couple miles down the strip. They were playing Texas Hold’em.” He replied and chuckled in spite of himself. “Not kidding.” Michael’s expression didn’t so much as twitch, but Selene couldn’t help the slight quirk of her lips and Alex found himself breathing a little easier.
“What were you doing out there?”At that, Alex merely smirked, hoping his eyes conveyed the appropriate amount of “fuck you.” Selene sighed heavily, already shucking her jacket and hanging it over the other chair. “You know the punishment for going outside the walls.” Michael intoned. “But you’re Archangel Corps, so you won’t be purged. If you ever do anything like this again, your sister will suffer all the more. Do you understand me?” He retrieved a pair of handcuffs from his jacket pocket and before Alex could think to react he found himself chained to the bar bisecting the table, fighting the urge to curse out the Archangel.“Wha-” Alex muttered and his eyes widened as he finally caught on, watching his sister pull up her shirt to expose her back before bracing herself against the table. “Seriously? You haven’t done this since I first joined the Corps.”“He hasn’t had to.” Selene hissed as she stared at him, blue eyes unreadable. “Don’t make him do it again. Please. ” Her breath was forced from her lungs as the first blow landed, leather cracking against flesh before coming down again, and again, and again. The blows continued steadily as the Archangel’s face remained impassive, though Alex swore he could see a tremor in his free hand.
Just as the blows became too numerous - as Alex prepared to find a way to break out of the cuffs and take his sister’s place - the door crashed open once more and General Riesen strode into the room. “I think that’s enough, Michael. He’s learned his lesson. Right, boy?” He turned to Alex, clasping a large hand on his shoulder as he unlocked the handcuffs. “Tell no one about what you saw. Not a word of the 8-Balls to anyone. Go report for duty.” The General’s voice left no room for argument.
Alex nodded, straightening his jacket as he stood and decided to hazard a glance back at his sister. Something in his chest loosening as he watched Selene dip her head and crossing her fingers by her side - they were okay.†Selene winced as Consul Thorn applied ointment to the places on her back where the whip had broken skin, unconsciously curling her shoulders in and straining the already split skin.“Hold still, please.” Becca instructed, placing her free hand on Selene’s shoulder. “You’re the one who didn’t want painkillers.” She chided and shook her head.
“I don’t like feeling muddled.” She retorted as hesitant footsteps stopped outside the treatment room door, their owner shuffling in place. “Alex... get in here. ” Her voice left no room for argument and after a few moments the door slowly clicked open, revealing her brother doing an impressive impersonation of a kicked puppy.Alex nervously entered the treatment room, briefly catching Consul Thorn’s gaze before the redhead returned her focus to his sister’s back. “How bad is it?” He muttered, eyes downcast.Selene licked her lips, releasing a quiet breath. “I’ve had worse.” She replied, watching as her brother’s eyes flicked to the scar curving from her ribs to her hip; the result of an assassination attempt on Michael only a year ago. “I’m not angry at you.”“Then why do I feel like I need to grovel?” He asked, taking a step forward as Consul Thorne set aside the tube of ointment.
“I can’t prevent scarring.” Consul Thorne interjected. “Do you want them wrapped?” She asked, peeling off her gloves.
Selene twisted her neck to regard the Consul. “Are they necessary?” She countered, the look Becca leveled her with making her opinion very clear. “Very well.” Her gaze came to settle on her brother once more and part of her was delighted in the way he squirmed underneath it. “You knew your actions were against the law. You knew better. It’s not my job to absolve you of whatever guilt you feel.”Alex rocked his jaw, stuffing his hands into his pockets and sighing heavily. “I know.” He murmured. “I honestly forgot that Michael punished you to punish me.”“You don’t care if you get hurt. That’s why he chose to punish you the way he did.” She reminded him, raising an eyebrow at him when Alex went to argue.
Her brother huffed. “Fine...fine. But doesn’t the whole thing put a damper on your relationship?” He queried, ignoring the way Becca rolled her eyes behind his sister’s back as the Consul began winding a second roll of bandages around Selene’s torso.
Selene chuckled. “Please, Alex. If our relationship came to a stop every time you did something stupid, Michael and I wouldn’t even be in a relationship.” She smirked at her brother’s openly offended expression. “Come on, you know it’s true.”“I hate it when you’re right.” He muttered after a few moments, nodding to Consul Thorn as she finished tidying up and exited the room. “You need help with your shirt?” Swallowing a laugh at the look his sister shot him before picking up said article of clothing from the chair and holding the neck open. “Come on. Let me help, please .”She rolled her shoulders and suppressed a wince, but unable to stop the way her breath hissed out between her teeth. “Fine.” Selene relented, brushing her hair back as Alex stepped closer and slipped the shirt over her head before easing her arms through the sleeves, the movement pulling at her back and she couldn’t stop herself from latching onto her brother’s arm. “I’m sorry.” Alex breathed, giving into the urge to press a kiss to his sister’s hair, lingering with his head bowed against hers. “Are we okay…?” He asked after several moments, anxiety rising in his chest.Selene nodded and pulled back after a few more moments. “We’re okay.”†Michael stood before the open balcony doors of the ‘Nest,’ as the rank-and-file had come to call it, dark eyes scanning the city under his protection. He and Selene hadn’t spoken since Alex’s punishment, and that bothered him more than he cared to admit. His wings flexed, sensing movement just as his ears picked up soft footsteps making their way through his rooms. “Jeep.” He said, his voice carefully neutral.
Jeep chuckled tiredly, leaving a trail of sand behind him as he strode further into the room. “I see you still like the highest perch.” He said it as if he was joking, but his face betrayed no emotion. “It’s been awhile.”“Hmmm… Fifteen years.” The Archangel replied, clasping her hands behind his back. “I thought you were dead.” He said. “Your children think you are dead.”“Fourteen and a half. But who’s counting?” He diverted and shrugged off his jacket, tossing the weathered garment onto a chair. “What does everyone else know?”Michael turned around fully to face his friend. “The same. David Whele built a statue in your memoriam; it looks more like him than you.” His tone was measured, gaze calculating. “Have you deciphered any of them?” He asked, eyes raking over the other man’s body greedily, as if he could will the tattoos covering his friend’s skin into cooperation.Jeep shook his head, exhausted. “It’s not just a language to decipher - it’s something else. There’s no historical equivalent that I could find.” He muttered dejectedly. “I spent the bulk of the last fourteen years on wild goose chases, looking for the names of prophets I’d misspelled or tasks I thought I was commanded to carry out.” His expression fell even further. “They’re indecipherable.” Shaking his head and raising his eyes, he took in the angel standing before him. “How are they? What are they like?” Jeep’s voice held the longing only a parent separated from their children could hold.“Alex is brash, undisciplined, strong-willed, passionate, mercurial; a good soldier. He could go far if he took the chip off his shoulder.” The angel intoned, an almost amused quirk in his lips that widened into a smile as he began talking about Selene. “Selene is--she’s beautiful; passionate, willful, empathetic, a leader, loving. And she’s mine.”The word was barely a breath, but Jeep heard it and he raised an eyebrow at his oldest friend. “Yours?” He exclaimed, scrubbing a hand over his beard. “As in you’re--the two of you are--? Right, then. I guess we’ll have time to talk about that.” Jeep muddled, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Can you bring them to me?”Michael nodded once, wings stretching out behind him. “Everything is about to change.” He stated, staring at Jeep with eyes so dark they almost seemed black. “War is coming.”†Alex strode into the Riesen residence, apprehension pooling in his stomach as he climbed towards where Claire waited at the top of the stairs. He couldn’t help but smile as he approached her, placing a daring kiss against her lips which she returned.“Something’s happening with my father that could change everything.” Claire said once they parted. “I couldn’t bring it up to him.” She murmured, threading their fingers together. “So tonight after the Jubilee, we leave as planned.” Her voice was hushed, always mindful that she was never truly alone.Footsteps sounded on the marble floor and they jumped apart as Selene made her way over to them. “Lade Riesen.” She murmured, clasping her hands behind her back. “Forgive me for interrupting, but the Archangel needs to see Sargeant Lannon and I.” Her voice gave nothing away, but there was a good chance that she had overheard the couple. “Now.”Alex nodded, bowing to Claire before following his sister down the hall. They walked in silence, tension stretching out between them until they exited the Riesen residence. “You heard us.” Alex stated as they climbed into Selene’s waiting truck, slamming the door behind him. “We’re in love.” He turned to her, eyes desperate, and Selene couldn’t help but clasp his hand in her own.
“I can see that, Alex.” She said in a low voice, expression softening by degrees as she regarded her rebellious brother. “I understand something about being in love with someone you shouldn’t be.” Her lips curved into a fond smile and she laughed softly. “All I want to say is that I hope you understand how much Claire is giving up by choosing to be with you. She’s the one making the sacrifice here.”
“ I’m sacrificing something, too.” Alex insisted indignantly, hurt that his sister wouldn’t consider leaving her behind a major loss. “I’d be leaving you.” His voice was softer, smaller and Selene was suddenly reminded that they were both still so young. The downcast eyes and hunched shoulders didn’t help either.
She slid across the seat and wrapped her arms around Alex, sighing as her brother returned the embrace. “You’ll always have me, Alex.” Selene breathed, pressing a kiss against the side of his head. “I’d find a way to make it to you if you needed me. You’re my little brother, after all.”“Only by an hour.” He shot back, but it lacked the bite it usually did as he hugged his sister for what might be the last time. They were more alike than either of them would like to admit, but they’d always been there for each other. A low chuckle left his throat. “Come on, let’s go see what the Peacock wants.”Selene pulled back, lips twitching before a giggle finally burst forth. “Don’t ever let him hear you call him that.” She shook her head as she put the truck in drive and began navigating the crowded streets towards the Stratosphere.Alex rolled his eyes. “Not an idiot, Sis.” He muttered. “And I definitely don’t have a death wish.”“Debatable.”“Sure. Whatever you say.” He stuck his tongue out.Selene groaned and kicked him in the shin. “And you wonder why you’re always getting into trouble.” She countered. “And don’t even get me started about the incident with the goats. I didn’t know someone could turn that shade of red.” She smiled to herself, remembering how red Consul Whele had turned upon finding his foyer filled with over two dozen goats. They’d made quick work of his expensive couches and Persian rug, and Consul Whele did a rather impressive impersonation of a tomato.“You have to admit that it was funny though.” Alex needled, waggling his eyebrows at her. “It’s not like you’re a fan of Whele either. And when that one got in his bathtub; I didn’t know humans could make sounds like that.”
At that, Selene dissolved into full-blown laughter, despite the sting of her wounds, clutching at her stomach with one hand while parking and shutting off the truck with the other. They were still chuckling as they traveled up the elevator to the penthouse, before quieting as they entered the darkened room. Something was off; the air was still, and yet charged at the same time. She reached out a hand, clasping it around Alex’s wrist and running her thumb down the back of his hand before tapping two fingers against his pulse point. A code they had developed during their time on the streets: not alone; two people in room . He switched the grip, squeezing the sides of her hand to signal that they should split up.Selene nodded and they each began making their way around opposite sides of the room. Tension suffused the air as apprehension and anxiety settled in the line of the siblings’ shoulders. Alex scanned the room, flicking over to the open bathroom door and only just catching the gleam of a raised blade. “Look out!” He shouted watching as Selene ducked, the sword burying itself in the wall where her head used to be. Metal sang as the siblings drew their own blades and the sound of steel-against-steel rang out as Selene’s blade connected with the unknown assailant.
Several thoughts raced through her mind at once as she parried the assailant - the assassin’s - blows. Was Michael injured? Dead? Had this assassin lured them here with the intention of using them against the Archangel? It was all pushed aside as she spun, locking blades with the assassin and forcing their arms down before releasing the tension, sending both blades skittering across the floor. In her peripheral vision she could see Alex making his way around the room towards them, so far unnoticed by the assassin and she ducked as a punch was thrown at her head, countering with a swift uppercut to the person’s solar plexus before twisting and slamming her elbow back, grinning with satisfaction as the crack of ribs reached her ears.
The assassin groaned - a man, then - the sound muffled by the scarf wrapped around his head before he gathered his strength once more and charged at Selene, slamming her back into the wall and setting her body alight with pain from the earlier lashes. She grunted, clenching her hands around the assassin’s upper arms and stomped on his foot, forcing him to let go before redoubling her grip and driving her knee into his stomach. The action rocked him back against the headboard and Selene took the advantage, grabbing the assassin by the jacket and shoving him towards Alex’s side of the room before delivering a kick to his midsection, driving the assassin into Alex’s arms.
“Don’t move.” Alex growled, pressing his sword against the assassin’s neck. “You alright?” He asked, glancing up at his sister who nodded.
The assassin let out a chuckle and raised his hand in formal surrender. “Okay. Okay!” The man relented and unwound the scarf from around his face. “You’ve trained them well, Michael.”
The siblings stumbled back, Alex standing slightly in front of Selene, sheathing his sword. “Dad? What-- How the hell did you get here?” He demanded, reaching back to take his sister’s hand.
“I came back last night. To see you; to talk to you.” Jeep explained as Michael emerged from the still darkened bathroom and flicked on the lights. Alex and Selene eyed each other, expressions shining with years upon years of pain and other emotions that had long been left unaddressed.
“We’re not interested in anything you have to say. You gave us up!” Alex shouted, stepping forward to face his father. “A scribbled not in the middle of the night made that real fucking clear. Do you remember what it said?” He demanded and wrapped an arm around Selene’s shoulders, tucking her against his side. When was the last time she let him do that? , he pondered before pushing on. “We do. ‘You’ll be orphans now. Take care of each other.’ ”“I didn’t think I’d make it back.” Jeep shrugged, his excuse as paltry as the note he’d left fifteen years ago.“We were seven.” Selene interjected, voice sounding smaller than either Alex or Michael had heard it in years and the Archangel only barely restrained himself from wrapping his arms around her. “We were seven and you left us all alone.”Her father licked his lips, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets as he shrugged lamely. “Not alone. You had Michael.”“He isn’t even human.” Alex scoffed before he could think to bite his tongue. Selene didn’t so much as flinch.“He’s human enough to side with us against his own.” Jeep chided and took a step forward. The twins took a step back in response. “He was the only one to fight for us . Without Michael, we would’ve lost the war.”Selene rolled her eyes. Though she knew it was true, the words sounded dirty coming from the mouth of the man who abandoned them to chase some fairytale. “Let’s go, Alex.” She muttered, slipping her hand into the crook of her brother’s elbow and tugging him towards the elevator doors.
“Selene!” Jeep begged, and nearly sobbed when she paused, turning back to face him. “Nothing’s been done that wasn’t necessary.”
“Necessary?” Selene sneered, blue eyes electric and threatening to sear his soul with the way she was glaring at him. “Do you realize that by making us orphans, you put us in the lowest caste? V-1. If Alex and I hadn’t become soldiers, we wouldn’t have had anywhere to sleep or anything to eat.” She seethed, baring her teeth. “I sold myself for food. You left us to die .”That seemed to finally garner some reaction from the man that called himself their father, his eyes becoming impossibly sad, remorse etching itself into weathered features. “It wasn’t the life I would’ve chosen for you.” Jeep murmured. “None of it is.”Selene just shook her head, shoulders trembling with repressed sobs as she turned her glistening eyes on Michael - her Michael. “And you - you knew all along.” She accused, voice choked. “I thought you trusted me.” Her lips trembled, tears sliding down her cheeks. “I thought you loved me.”Michael opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Of course he loved Selene, but he hadn’t loved her the way he did now when Jeep left. He couldn’t remember when he had last loved someone this deeply, but already he knew that a simple apology would not suffice. Closing his mouth, he bowed his head and pulled his shoulders in, wings following as he hoped to convey how sorry he was.
“We’ll talk about this later.” She finally said after several long moments, and something in Michael unclenched even as the siblings turned to leave.
Jeep took a step forward as Alex handed Selene her sword which he’d picked up. “Alex, Selene...please.”
She whirled on him, expression murderous. “No! Go back to whatever hole you crawled out of. You don’t have kids. Not anymore.” She enunciated before taking Alex by the arm and steering them into the elevator, the metal doors closing softly behind them.✝Selene stood impassively beside Michael as the Riesens and Consul Thorn took their seats, hands clasped behind her back and expression schooled into a reserved mask with practiced ease. She watched Jeep hand something to Alex, who stood near Claire before moving to the other side of the box. Whatever it was, it had Alex looking like that time he’d found a puppy only for it to die a week later. All evening long, Selene’s thoughts kept drifting back to the events of the day; the confrontation with Jeep, and the words she’d said to Michael. They’d been harsh and unwarranted, they hadn’t been then what they were now. Selene knew that but it hadn’t seemed to matter earlier, and she cursed her short sightedness. Michael loved her. Of course he did, and it shamed her that she’d ever doubted that.
Forcing herself to relax her arms, Selene allowed her right hand to drop to her side, brushing against the Archangel’s knuckles before she hooked her pinkie finger with his and squeezed gently. “We’re okay.” She murmured, mindful that they were being watched - their relationship wasn’t a secret, but public displays of affection weren’t exactly encouraged either. “I love you.”“And I, you.” Michael replied almost immediately, squeezing back and rubbing the back of his thumb over her wrist. “More than anything on this Earth.” In an uncharacteristic display of affection, he pressed a kiss to her hair, breathing her in. Whatever reproachful look Riesen was sending their way was interrupted by the roar of the crowd as David Whele stood in his sky box on the other side of the arena.“Welcome, Vega!” The charismatic Consul yelled into the microphone, raising his arms like a preacher leading a sermon. “Tonight we celebrate our resilience, our fortitude, and our collective courage.” More cheers from the gathered crowd. “Every year we use this - our Jubilee - to be reminded of the past, but also to look forward. And it is in this spirit of looking forward that I have an announcement to make of incredible importance to this - our beloved city - to Vega!” Whele smiled like a cat that got the cream as he waited for the cheering to lull. “Tonight our city will become stronger. It will become unified. Because tonight it is my great pleasure to announce the engagement of Claire Riesen to William Whele!”Selene turned her head to look at her brother and Claire, who both wore equally stunned and horrified expressions. Oh, Alex. “Come on, son. Take a bow.” Whele crowed as William rose and gave an awkward wave to the crowd before bowing deeply as the General stood, hand extended to Claire.
“Come.” He instructed.Across the arena and plastered on the plasma screens, Whele grinned. “Yes, come on, Claire. Stand up.” He encouraged, studiously ignoring a very uncomfortable William standing next to him as Claire stood, looking every bit the regal princess she was in her scarlet gown. “Through their marriage, we will join Vega’s two houses - the houses of Riesen and Whele - thus securing the safety and future of our wondrous city.” An explosive round of cheers erupted, the roar of the crowd near deafening. “Now, as is our custom at the Jubilee, we celebrate the soldiers who stand on our walls; who protect us and keep us safe so that we may enjoy this life. But tonight we have something extra special.” Below, in the caged fight ring set up, a dark-skinned man dressed as a Roman gladiator strode out to the roar of the crowd, raising his sword in the air. “Thomas Ford is one of Vega’s greatest champions. A legend for killing twenty-two 8-balls in battle with nothing but his knife. Let’s hear it for Thomas.” The crowds roars were accompanied by their pounding feet, the noise rising until Whele held out his hand. “Well Thomas, it’s time to meet the twenty-third.”Michael and Selene exchanged glances as an obese, female 8-ball was rolled out on a wagon, chains quickly attached to bolts in the ground. An 8-ball in the city?, Selene thought uneasily and the crowd seemed to agree, nervous murmurs and mutterings rippling through those gathered.“Okay, settle down now.” Whele encouraged. “There’s nothing to fear; we’re in complete control.”“You allowed him to bring one into the city?” Michael snapped, glaring at Riesen with barely contained outrage. “It must be destroyed.” He insisted over whatever placations Whele was spilling as he turned back to face the fight ring as the 8-ball stared straight at him and waved, a smile stretching her black-veined features. “ Gabriel. ”What followed was utter chaos as the 8-ball strained against the chains, snapping free with ease. She wrenched the bolts from the ground and swung one long chain into the gladiator’s skull, caving it in. The delegation from Helena scrambled over each other in their haste to escape as it easily slaughtered the soldiers who went in to subdue it, and blood spewed from the creature’s mouth, slicking the dirt below their shoes as William shoved his father into motion.“Let’s go. Come on, let’s go!” He barked just as the alarm began wailing and three winged figures shot by overhead. Code Red. A citywide attack is imminent. Gunfire cracked through the air as the artillery mounted on the wall began firing at the angels, successfully bringing down one of them.
Michael turned to Selene, hand pressed to his earpiece where Alex was patched in. “Get Claire and Riesen to the bunker.” He ordered and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. “Stay there until I come for you.”Selene nodded, already making her way to the General and Claire as she and Alex began forcing their way through the crowd, each taking hold of one of the Riesens arms.†Selene hardly dared to so much as look at Alex as he and Claire entered the bunker, the latter cupping Claire’s cheek briefly before turning to his duties as Claire watched Michael’s fierce battle with Furiad on the screen above them. Selene’s angel parried Furiad blow-for-blow as they dueled, blades sparking as they collided with the concrete. Selene’s fingers tapped an anxious staccato against her leg and she huffed out a breath before striding towards the door.“What are you doing?” Jeep asked, moving to block her.“Michael needs my help.” She stated plainly and shoved him out of the way, only to be wrenched back as he yanked on her arm. “Let me go.”Jeep tightened his grip, weathered features grave. “If this bunker’s breached, all of Vega’s leaders are within these walls. Claire. Your brother. ” He shook her slightly. “He’s your responsibility. You’re needed here.”Selene moved to respond just as the flash of an explosion whited-out the screen. The third angel had attacked the power plant, and the pair could feel the ground shake below them briefly. “Michael…” She breathed.“You can’t help him now.” Jeep muttered, finally letting her go. “No one can.”Whele cleared his throat. “It won’t take long to restore power. Our defenses should be back online shortly.” He said confidently, though his eyes betrayed a hint of a much different feeling.Quiet murmuring filled the bunker as the leaders and guests began to talk amongst themselves, allowing the child from Helena - Roan - to slip through the group unnoticed, seemingly interested in the platter of cheese and crackers. It wasn’t until he’d stepped away and Selene saw the knife was missing that she knew something was wrong. Her eyes scanned the crowd and just barely caught sight of the boy before he moved with prenatural speed, driving the knife into Jeep’s stomach.
She must have screamed because the next thing Selene knew, gunshots were cracking in the closed space as Roan dropped on all fours and hissed before climbing and skittering across the ceiling and disappeared into the ventilation shaft.“Stop firing!” Riesen shouted, but the soldiers continued. “God damn it. I said, stop firing!” He roared and finally the room fell silent.
A choked sound left Jeep as he slumped into Selene’s arms, staining her jacket and tactical vest with blood. “I need a med kit!” Selene barked, lowering him to the ground before yanking off her jacket, pressing it against the wound and stripping off the stiff, bulletproof vest to tuck under his head. Blood quickly soaked through the material, oozing out of the wound and covering her hands. It must have hit an artery. She thought distantly, jerking back to the present as Jeep - no, her father - reached up towards her face.
“You’re ready.” He rasped, blood staining his lips as he coughed. “I believe in you. You are the Chosen One.” The words left his lips as he drew his final, shaky breath, chest coming to a still as his heart pumped its final beats.
Selene stared down at her bloodsoaked hands, her father’s final words ringing in her ears even as Whele muttered something about hallucinations and “the last words of a dying man.” Her eyes refocused as a soft whispering filled her ears, the words indecipherable as the tattoos that wound their way around Jeep’s body faded away before reappearing on Selene’s arms, the once green ink now black and standing prominently against her sun-bronzed skin.
“The Chosen One is real.” Claire murmured in awe as she stepped forward, eyes wide as she sank to her knees.
Selene stared down at Claire for a long moment, eyes briefly flicking to where her brother knelt next to their father’s body. “Get up.” Selene said icily, jerking her head and Claire stood, brushing down her gun.The spell was broken when Whele spoke once more, pointing to Arika. “Arrest her and round up her entourage.”“General please, you must listen to me.” Arika pleaded as two soldiers grabbed her by the arms. “I had no idea what Roan was. He was deceiving all of us. What would we have to gain? Please, think.” Her eyes drifted to David.“I am.” He replied, watching with calculated disinterest as she was frogmarched away.Riesen turned to his counterpart. “I don’t want her hurt. Arresting Arika could spark another war.”“We’re already at war. They brought that thing into the city and it killed Jeep.”“And you unleashed that monstrosity at the Jubilee. How is this any different? You knew what you were doing.” Riesen eyed David with obvious disdain. “It’s not certain that she did.”David scoffed. “Vega has become unfocused - you have become unfocused!” He drawled. “My little demonstration couldn’t have worked better. Now we’ll be ready for the battle that’s coming.” The Consul turned towards Selene. “So, Selene Lannon - show us your arms.”Mutely, Selene extended her arms, still trying in vain to process everything that had happened. She could feel the shocked gazes of the others on her body, but didn’t react when Whele pushed her aside and made a grab for Bixby.
“Who is this ?” The Consul asked.“Bixby.” Alex answered as he stood, placing himself between Bixby and Whele.
David frowned. “Designation?”“V-1.”“V-1. What - what is she doing here?”Sensing the Consul’s rising temper, Claire placed her hand on Bixby’s thin shoulder. “She’s with me. She’s under my protection.” Her gaze could’ve cut steel as she stared David down. “The protection of House Riesen.”“Well she better be able to keep a secret.” David grunted. “Because no one here is going to breathe a word of this to anyone until we’ve figured out what the hell it all means.” He instructed. “Is that understood?”Bixby nodded, slightly sunken eyes wide. “I’ll be quiet. I promise.” She said in a small voice, pressing herself against Alex.
Selene lifted her eyes from her blood-stained hands, gaze coming to rest on the way Bixby was clinging to Alex and she managed a small smile for the child. She turned as the bunker door slid open to admit a soot-smudged Michael, his jacket covered in a thick layer of cement dust.
“I’m fine.” Michael murmured as he came to a stop in front of Selene and rested a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently, without sparing a thought for the others in the room. Selene covered his hand with her own, grateful that she needed him more than he needed to care about the opinions of others.
Riesen took a step forward, metals gleaming in the fluorescent lights. “What the hell happened?”Michael didn’t so much as glance in the General’s direction, hand moving from Selene’s shoulder to cup the back of her neck. “The reactor was damaged.” He explained plainly. “But containment held...for now.” His eyes scanned the room, taking in the table where Roan had taken the knife from before lingering for several moments on Jeep’s body and the pool of blood beneath it. “The boy was an angel; another member of the Powers. That’s why he was able to pass through our scanners.” A low sigh left his lips. “Jeep was right. More than one higher angel has joined Gabriel in his war against us.”Selene inhaled sharply when Michael’s hand left her neck and her breathing became shallow as she watched the Archangel fall to one knee in front of her. She could feel something akin to panic bubbling up inside her chest as her angel stood and removed his jacket before pulling his hoodie over his head and tossing it at her.
“Cover up.” He instructed, though not unkindly. “Make sure none of the tattoos show.” Michael turned back to the others as he adjusted his jacket. “Selene is the baby I saved all those years ago. She is under my protection.”†Selene stood on the balcony of the penthouse of the Stratosphere, the acrid scent of smoke still clinging to her from Jeep’s funeral pyre. She and Alex had parted ways for the night, with Alex returning to the barracks and her to the Nest. she felt empty, hollow - having cried all that she could in the shower where she’d watched her father’s blood swirl down the drain as her grip on her own identity wavered. Sighing, she dragged her feet back into the bedroom and settled down cross-legged on the bed.
“You were never alone.” She shuddered at the sound of Michael’s timber as he sat behind her.She looked over her shoulder, wondering if she looked as lost as she felt. “What?” Her voice was strained, new tears threatening to spill over.
Michael’s dark eyes were earnest as he stared at Selene, a thin sheen of tears reminding her that he’d also lost a friend - that he was also grieving. “When Jeep left, you were never alone.” He murmured, moving closer and pulling her close to his side. “You had Alex, of course. But I watched over you as well.” His breath ghosted over her ear where his lips were pressed to her hair. “I made sure you joined the army - that you both did. I formed the Archangel Corps so that I could stay closer to you without arousing suspicion. Everything was done so you could train in secret; no one could know who you are. Your father and I didn’t know which one of you it would be.”“Am I supposed to thank you - to thank Jeep - for all of this?” Selene muttered, still apprehensive, though she allowed Michael to arrange them back-to-chest as his strong arms wrapped around her and his forehead came to rest on her shoulder.
“No, it is what it is.” Michael shook his head, lips grazing her neck. “As your father, Jeep held the tattoos on his body for when either you or Alex was ready.” He sighed sadly. “He knew it might mean his death.”Selene pressed back against him, needing the sense of support he brought to her. “I’m no savior.” She insisted. “I can’t turn water into wine, feed the masses or heal the sick.”Michael tightened his hold on her, the muscles in his back rolling before his wings rustled into existence and he wrapped those around Selene as well. “You are more than a savior; you’re a warrior.” He intoned softly. “Only you can decipher the tattoos. I bore them before they transferred to Jeep, but they were always meant for the Chosen One.”“First they were on you, then Jeep, and now me.” She countered sharply. “How do I--How do you know they’re not meant for someone else? What are they anyway?”A subtle shudder ran through Michael’s wings. “Our fate. Our hope. Written in a language long forgotten; one even I don’t know.” He breathed and pulled back, straightening. “Would you show them to me?”There was a beat of silence as Selene tried to process everything, her brain running a mile a minute as it tried to catch up with the events of the day. After another moment, she nodded and pulling her shirt over her head. She shivered as the night breeze washed over her skin followed by gooseflesh where Michael trailed his fingers over the tattoos.
“Can you read them?” Michael murmured, a slight lilt of hope threading through his voice as he brushed her hair aside to examine the ones on her back.
Selene shook her head and sighed tiredly. “Not yet.”
Michael thinned his lips and pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. “You must. This is war, and only one side can win.” He stated obviously. “What is in those tattoos will guide you through what’s to come. They will lay out the path through which mankind can be redeemed, and Gabriel and his legions pushed back; but, this path will not be easily traversed.” His voice was low, serious as he pulled her impossibly closer, nestling her between arms and wings alike. “At every step, you must choose which course to take. I believe you are the only one that can end this war.”“I’m one woman, Michael. How can you be sure?” She questioned, unashamedly burrowing into the warmth and safety offered between her angel’s wings.
“Nothing is ever certain.” He conceded, lips brushing against her hair. “But Jeep had hope, Selene. He had faith in you, and so do I.” Michael enunciated.
Selene nodded shallowly, sitting as the tattoos on her right forearm began to glow and shift, spiraling around the limb. “They’re moving.” She stated and reached back for Michael’s hand, threading their fingers together when she found it.“Can you discern anything?” Michael asked, poorly disguised eagerness clear in his tone.“Yeah…” She breathed, eyes fixed on the glowing letters inked into her skin. “Beware those closest to you. ”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“In the war, the entire lower rank of angels joined Gabriel, and they couldn’t visit Earth without a body. So they stole ours. Then came whispers of a chosen child.”

“Angel: (n) 4. It takes God three billion years to fashion man from oceanic bacteria. It takes even longer to fashion the human guise which you drape over your galactic. In Nazareth, the olives smell too much of salt, but Mary, sunburnt and laughing, has you try them anyway. She holds them out to you in her fist. You think,

there are no words that can describe how small the human heart is, and yet how large in love

. Part of you, peering upon our fragility, aches.” - Keaton St. James.

~~~~

Selene watched intently as chaos erupted in the Senate Chamber before her, face carefully schooled into a mask of placidity. She stood with her back ramrod straight, allowing her attention to be consumed by her temporary charge, guarding the Senate in Michael’s absence in an effort to stave off her grief. She flicked her eyes to the General as he brought the gavel down abruptly, the sound slicing through the squabbling of the men and women before him, silencing them immediately.

“Senator Romero.” Riesen began, shifting in his seat. “What’s the status of our reactor?” He inquired, steely gaze coming to rest on the Senator with the ice-blonde hair twisted back in a tight chignon.

Senator Romero glanced down at the folder in her hands and straightened her shoulders. “Using all of our available resources, I should have the city back to full power within a few days.”

“Not fast enough.” David snapped and Selene barely restrained the urge to snort. After all - they were in the situation they were in because of him. “The walls are barely functional, and the radar is down.” He continued sharply. “Our first priority should be defense.”

“Defense?” Becca echoed indignantly, her eyes threatening to skewer the other Consul where he sat. “That’s rich, coming from the man who brought the 8-ball into our city in the first place.”

Senator Frost nodded in agreement, weathered features grave. “You have blood on your hands, Consul.” He stated plainly, gesturing to David. “Your recklessness put us

all

in danger.”

David raised his hands in mock surrender, lips twitching in a slight smirk. “Look, I’m the first to admit that I had a lapse in judgement. But I was doing it

for

Vega. Yesterday morning when my men discovered that 8-ball inside our city walls and captured it, my first instinct was to destroy it.” The lie rolled off his tongue with an ease that Selene found unsurprising as she locked eyes with Riesen for a heartbeat, the lashes on her back tingling anew. “But then I realized
that we could use it to remind Vega of the danger we face - that every stronghold faces. It backfired, tragically, and for that I am sorry. But I was doing it to strengthen our city,

not

endanger it.”

“So the Consul decided to teach us all a lesson in secret.” Becca fired back, cocking her head at David expectantly.

“I call for an audit of House Whele!” Frost demanded, slamming his fist down on the arm of his chair.

Becca nodded. “I second.”

Senator Romero shook her head. “I oppose.” She said, running her fingers along the edge of the folder. “An audit is a waste of resources and time. Both are things we can ill afford.”

“It is necessary!” Frost countered vehemently and moved to continue, only silenced as the crack of the gavel echoed through the hall once more.

“I agree with Senator Romero.” The General stated evenly and leaned back in his seat. “Consul Whele made a mistake. A mistake, for which he has been admonished.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Good day, Senators.” With that he stood, striding across the room and past Selene through the carved double-doors.

Selene stood aside to allow the Senators to file out, watching as Becca leveled David with a scathing glare and a downtrodden Frost followed the rival Senators out. “May the Chosen One save us…” The elder Senator muttered as he passed her and Selence couldn’t suppress the shudder that ran through her.

†

Michael stood on a low cliff overlooking the Gulf, wings flapping restlessly as he sent a message only one other angel would be able to interpret. His dark eyes remained fixed on the horizon, absently listening to the waves crashing against the cliff below him. Several moments passed before the sound of steady wing-beats reached his ears and he turned to meet his
brother’s smirk.

“There’s no shame in surrender, Michael.” Gabriel said as he landed, regarding his brother with curious hostility, sunlight glinting off his breastplate.

Michael’s wings flexed, hitching higher to enhance his stature as he stared Gabriel down. “That is not why I summoned you.” He retorted sharply. “Why attack now? You already lost the war.”

“Oh, dear brother. I only lost the battle.” He replied arrogantly, a swagger in his step as he walked forward. “Didn’t Father always tell us not to rest until our work was

done

?” A cruel smile contorted his handsome face.

“He would be

ashamed

of you.” Michael shot back.

Gabriel let out a manic laugh. “Well, he’s not here, is he?” He questioned, eyes gleaming. “And do you know why? Because he finally realized that his greatest creation - his pride and joy - was a failure of truly epic proportions. Father couldn’t stand the sight of them, but he didn’t have the heart to wipe them out himself.”

Michael looked at his brother incredulously. “Are you truly that jealous of Father’s attention? His love for them over his angels?” He stepped closer. “Over

you

?”

“I should finish you right now.” His brother growled as he drew his sword along with Michael, pressing the gleaming empyrean steel to the other angel’s face.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Gabriel ground his teeth, jaw muscles ticking with the effort before he blinked, his easy smirk returning. “If the humans knew you were talking to me, they’d kill you themselves.” He muttered even as Michael sheathed his blade and took a step back. “Doesn’t it make you angry? That they were given our

birthright

; gifted this Earth - a paradise - and these bodies.” Venom dripped from the words. “And what did they do? They turned the planet into a pit. Perhaps, when the last of them are gone and nothing more than a bad memory, then Father will finally return.”

“Your quarrel is with a father who abandoned you, not mankind.” Michael pressed, feathers rustling as the sea breeze washed over the pair. “You are nothing more than a frightened child lashing out. I won’t allow you to harm another soul.”

“Oh, Michael. The humans don’t need you to protect them anymore.” Gabriel drawled confidently, rolling his shoulders to bring forth his wings, the appendages flaring out aggressively. “They have the

Chosen One

now.” With that he took off back towards his Eyrie even as icy fear lanced through Michael’s heart and snaked its way down his spine.

†

Selene sat on the edge of her bed, skin still warm from the shower, waiting for her angel to return from wherever he’d flown off to. The remainder of her shift had been uneventful, with the notable exception of having to replace a desperately hungover Alex for his post at House Riesen for the better part of the afternoon. It had warmed her heart to see Bixby eagerly devouring a stack of pancakes as Claire looked on. The child wasn’t much older than her and Alex had been when Jeep disappeared, and if she ever needed proof that Alex cared more for others than he let on, she need only think of Bixby.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the distant beat of wings in the wind met her ears. Moments later, Michael alighted on the balcony, brushing the sheer curtains aside as he entered the bedroom. Every line in his body was tense, corded muscles bunched and coiled as if he was barely restraining himself from punching something - or, more likely, someone. Selene’s eyes follow him as he removed his sword belt and tossed it onto the dresser alongside his jacket before lowered himself to the bed beside her, heaving a heavy a sigh.

“Hey…” Selene murmured after a few moments, shifting over to him and wrapping her arms around his waist. “What’s wrong?” She asked. “What happened?”

Michael exhaled slowly, shuddering. “Not now.” He muttered flatly, his tone leaving no room for discussion. “Just, please...not now.”

Selene nodded slowly, trying valiantly to ignore small knot of worry that settled in her stomach as she grasped Michael by the shoulders and turned him, guiding his head to rest in the crook of her neck. He was taut as a bowstring against her, muscles jumping from his tension and she reached up with one hand to card her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “Tell me what you need.” She demanded, breath husky as it skimmed over his ear.

“I--” He cut himself off as she slipped a hand between his legs and pressed, ignoring the bulge of his cock and going straight for the folds concealed by his pants. She never failed to know when he needed her, to have her hands on him, with no expectations other than his own pleasure. “I--” Michael tried again, swallowing and fighting for composure, just barely managing to get the next words out as Selene pressed harder. “

I need you

.” His breathing hitched as Selene removed her hand, a low keen slipping past his lips.

“Shhh…” Selene whispered, cupping Michael’s face in her hands and pressing a tender hiss to trembling lips. “I have you.” She pressed her lips against the skin exposed by the neck of his shirt. “Strip.” Her eyes were gentle with just a shade of hunger as she watched her Archangel remove his clothing, the movements measured and deliberate until he was standing before her, naked as the day he was created. Their gazes remained locked even as she reached behind herself for a large pillow and tossed it on the floor between her legs. “Kneel.” Selene ordered lowly, heart fluttering as Michael sank to his knees immediately, listing against the inside of her left leg. “Good boy…”

She stroked his hair, the silky strands slipping easily through calloused fingers as she dragged her nails along his scalp. Her hand drifted to the back of his neck, grasping his scalp tightly. It was something she had done dozens of times, but it always elicited a different response - particularly when their roles were reversed like this.

Michael whined, the sound high in his throat as the tips of his ears went red. They had only done this a handful of times - the Archangel never was comfortable with giving up control more often than that. His cheeks flushed as Selene tangled her fingers in the short hairs along his nape, another whine leaving his lips when she tugged firmly. He inhaled slowly, trying to steady his racing heart in preparation as he turned his head and pressed his cheek against the soft skin of her right thigh, baring the pale column of his neck.

“Oh…” Selene exhaled, blue eyes wide as Michael’s breath trailed down the skin of her thigh. It was a high mark of trust, his neck fully exposed - vulnerable and open to attack - and she wouldn’t take it lightly. “Thank you.” She murmured sincerely, resting her hand against the exposed skin reverently. On a whim, she stroked it with her thumb, only to nearly giggle as the Archangel began to all but purr.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, allowing themselves to adjust to the new level of surrender Michael had offered. Selene smiled softly, relishing in the sensation of the angel’s pulse thrumming beneath her fingers. “

Mikhā’ēl.

” She breathed, hand stilling as Michael shuddered violently.

When was the last time someone used his God-given name?

“You’re so good for me, Mikhā’ēl.” Her voice was soft, tender as she continued to pet his neck and he sank lower into the blissful haze spreading through him. “Come, lie down with me.”

Removing her hand, she eased him upright, ensuring he wouldn’t keel over before she retreated across the bed until she could feel the cool cotton of the pillows press into her skin. She watched through half-lidded eyes as Michael rose fluidly, eyes lowered as he pressed his body against hers, tucking his face into the crook of her neck.

“You’re so good for me.” Selene purred, smiling against the skin of his shoulder as she pressed a kiss to it. “My angel.” She laughed softly, lips brushing over his temple. “My Michael.”

Michael moaned as her hand slipped between his legs, fingers teasing the slick folds behind his cock. “

Yours.

” He affirmed, parting his legs to allow her access as she trailed her fingers in lazy circles, touch painfully light as Michael moaned beneath her. “Only yours.”

Selene smiled, curling her free arm around his shoulders to pull him flush to her side. “Mí angel…” She breathed, soothing him as he shuddered violently, breath hitching in what could have been a sob. “Hush…” She soothed, relishing the keen he released when she finally slipped a single finger between his slit, stifling a groan at the wetness she found waiting within.

In one swift motion, Selene was on top of him, leaning with one elbow beside his head as she held her hand steady, her finger pumping between his folds at a slow, deliberate pace. She leaned down to pepper kisses along the tender skin of Michael’s jaw, pausing briefly to relish in the speed of the heartbeat she found in the crook of his neck. Michael trembled against her and she tangled the fingers of her free hand through his hair as their lips met once more.

A sigh escaped Michael’s lips as Selene circled his clit with her thumb, the sensation of her calloused pad sending shudders through his body. Selene seized the opportunity to capture his mouth with her own, swiping her tongue across his bottom lip greedily as her fingers continued their steady pace. She tangled her fingers deeper into Michael’s hair, pulling gently until Michael’s mouth parted further, allowing her entry as he bucked against her finger, desperate for more friction. Their kiss was heated - passionate and loving, and Selene knew she could have stayed in that moment for the rest of eternity, content with this world of heat and desire.

She withdrew reluctantly, pressing one last, lingering kiss against Michael’s lips as her finger slipped from between his folds. Selene swallowed his moan of protest as she trailed her hand down his thigh, tracing patterns into the supple skin with the tip of her fingernail. A string of sweet nothings poured from her lips as her head dipped to press long kisses into the sweat-slicked skin of his collarbone, sucking at the skin until it pinked pleasantly.

The Archangel threw his head back as her hot breath spread across his sensitive skin and Selene tutted comfortingly as she pressed a kiss to the soft skin inside his thigh. Selene felt her mouth water at the sight of Michael’s slick folds and the weeping cock above them, and before she could stop herself her tongue darted forward, trailing a slow, luxurious line up Michael’s slit. Her free hand reached above to grasp the base of Michael’s cock firmly, and the Archangel released a low whimper.

She rose, holding his gaze with her own as she dragged her tongue from the base of his shaft to the tip. She circled the tip with her tongue, savoring the pearl of precum she found glistening at its peak. She grinned at the sight of Michael before her, hair disheveled and cheeks a bright crimson - it was a side of him no one else had the pleasure of seeing, and she treasured it greatly.

She paused to press a kiss to the tip of Michael’s cock before she descended, capturing his throbbing clit between her lips immediately. Her hand continued to pump his cock as she swirled her tongue across his clit, painting the letters of her favorite poem into the damp folds. Michael’s hips bucked and Selene released his cock, pausing to steady his waist with one hand.

“Stay.” Her voice left no room for argument. She sucked her first two fingers into her mouth once more, pausing to Michael in the eye before popping them out once more. “Are you ready?” Her voice was deep, husky with desire, and Michael found himself nodding enthusiastically without thought. Selene slid her fingers between his slit, slicking them with Michael’s moisture before she pressed them into him. Though he writhed with pleasure, Michael’s hips remained in place, and Selene pressed a proud kiss into his thigh before she captured his clit between her teeth once more.

“

Selene

…” Her name fell like a prayer from Michael’s lips, a shudder running down her spine at the utter reverence in his tone. “Selene, please… Oh, God!” He moaned as her fingers curled, finding that spot within him that had him keening with pleasure.

Selene grinned around his clit, the irony of his words not lost of her as she continued to tease him with her tongue, occasionally grazing her teeth over the hyper-sensitized nub. She knew she was driving him closer and closer to the edge, only to pull back as it neared. But that was her plan, and it seemed to be working flawlessly as her Archangel cursed softly in Enochian.

A high-pitched whimper left Michael’s lips as Selene withdrew her fingers, only for that same hand to return to the base of his cock, ignoring the sensitive, throbbing head in favor of casually clasping two fingers around the very base and applying slight pressure. He was about to ask what she was doing when the breath was punched from his lungs as her tongue made direct contact with his slit.

“Oh, Lord!” Michael moaned as Selene’s tongue dipped into him, alternating between shallow thrusts and languid licks up the length of his folds. “Selene…” He could feel himself nearing his peak, and he cried out in desperation as she dragged the flat of her tongue against his clit only to retreat at the last moment, squeezing the base of his cock.

She heard her angel keen above her, back arching in ecstasy even as his hips stayed still and she pressed a brief kiss against the skin of his thigh before returning her attention to the slick folds in front of her. She lapped at them greedily, savouring the sweet juices that dribbled down her chin. Her tongue refocused its attention on Michael’s throbbing clit, lashing at the over sensitive nub and it was as her teeth grazed over it that all six of the angel’s wings snapped into existence, threatening to dislodge her.

The feathery appendages trembled violently, the muscles in the Archangel’s back flexing as he fought to keep them still even as he felt his peak beginning to wash over him. He whined as Selene’s free hand snaked its way around to the small of his back before burying her fingers in the sensitive feathers where wing met skin. “

Oh God!

Selene…” Michael keened, eyes rolling up as his peak drew nearer and his fingers twisted in the sheets, the sound of ripping fabric reaching his ears.

She smirked as she continued pushing her angel closer and closer to the edge, backing off every time he threatened to go over, fingers tightening around the base of his cock. It was achingly hard in her hand, pulsing and throbbing with denied release. Pushing herself up on her knees, she locked eyes with Michael, chin click with his juices. “Ask nicely.” She murmured, azure eyes bright with arousal.

“Please…” The Archangel moaned, muscled frame trembling with need. “Please...Selene.” He pleaded as a high pitched whine left his lips, the fingers buried in his feathers tugging softly. “Please...please!”

“Mmm...I think you’ve earned it.” She relented as she leaned back down, unclenching her fingers around his cock and using that hand to brace himself. “I want to hear you.” Selene breathed just before raking her fingers down sensitive feathers as she took him into her mouth and swallowed down to the root.

The scream that left Michael’s lips reverberated around the room before breaking off into harsh gasps as he emptied himself down Selene’s throat, throat flexing as she swallowed, humming around his softening cock before pulling away. Her smile was beatific as she watched him scramble for composure, reaching down to finger her clit, her own orgasm quickly washing over her with the anticipation that had built in the pit of her stomach.

“Good boy.” She breathed and licked her lips.

†

Ethan watched Selene enter the Whele Residence, looking decidedly less than pleased at having to be there. “Commander?” He questioned, raising a curious eyebrow. “Something wrong?”

“I’ve been reassigned for the morning.” Selene replied, rolling her eyes as Consul Whele appeared from inside his study.

The Consul crooked a finger in her direction “Commander Lannon...a word.” He demanded before disappearing back behind the oak doors.

Selene exchanged a glance with Ethan as she entered the study, coming to parade rest in front of David’s ornate desk. “Consul…” Her eyes scanned the man in front of him, noting the slight discomfort in the tightening of his eyes.

Did she make him uncomfortable? Scare him?

She took a step closer and the Consul leaned back in his chair.

Interesting.

“Do you know what I did before the war, Commander?” David asked, the unease from moments ago banished behind his charismatic bravado.

“No, sir.”

David smirked. “I was a televangelist. I sold religion on TV, and I was very, very good at it.” His laugh was hollow. “I was a

true

believer. The message would differ from preacher to preacher, of course, but the point was always the same: You need

me

to connect to

Him

.” A scoff left his lips. “

Everything

I believed was wrong.” Silence stretched between them as the Consul deliberated his next words. “But what I do know, better than anyone in this city, is the psychology of faith. I’ve seen firsthand what true believers are capable of; they’ll open up their wallets and bow at your feet. They’ll tear each other apart just to touch you...or they’ll nail you to a cross. Either way, you could bring ruin to our society.”

“I’m not here to be the Second Coming, Consul.” Selene countered evenly, sapphire eyes sharp as they studied Whele. “I have no intention of revealing myself before Michael deems it necessary.” She continued. “What people do after that is beyond my control.”

“I see.” Whele muttered, seeming unsatisfied with her answer but didn’t have a chance to voice a retort as William entered the study, kneeling before Selene with a flourish. “William,

please

.” He chastised sharply, signet ring dragging along the surface of the desk as he clenched his fist.

William ignored his father, smiling politely at Selene. “Apologies, I didn’t mean to intrude.” He clasped his hands behind his back.

David rose, shaking his head. “No intrusion.” He assured. “Commander Lannon has been assigned to our detail for the morning. Sergeant Lannon will take her place for the foreseeable future.” The Consul smirked. “We wouldn’t want to deprive Michael of his right hand.”

“How nice.” William replied uncomfortably, shifting in place before his gaze came to rest on Selene. “Would you accompany me to the markets, Commander?”

“Gladly.” Selene answered, turning on her heel to follow the Principate out of the study.

They walked in silence through the residence before exiting out into the bright sunlight and turning towards the bustling markets, the scents of cooking meat, fresh bread, and other foods mingling in the air. William watched Selene from the corner of his eye, noting that her distinctive jacket was absent, lean muscles covered by a black long-sleeved shirt. Grief had given her a haunted look, her blue eyes heavy with controlled emotion, but it only served to add to her beauty in his opinion.

“I apologize for my father.” He said as they entered the market proper and people pressed against them on either side. “He’s a narcissist of the highest order.” William rolled his eyes. “What did you talk about?”

Selene pursed her lips softly, gaze instinctively scanning the crowd for threats. “He warned me about the pitfalls of fame.” She replied plainly, smiling down at the children darting around the pair as a woman approached, arm outstretched towards William.

“Principate.... Bless you!” She called out as William clasped her hand.

“William smiled - a charismatic thing he shared with his father - eyes shining. “And you, Sister. Take this.” He said, handing her a slip of paper which she gratefully accepted.

“May the Chosen One bless you, sir!” Another man called out, weathered features smiling as the Principate approached.

William didn’t miss the way Selene tensed at the man’s words as he handed the man another slip of paper. “And you, Brother.” He replied before turning back to Selene who regarded him with searching eyes. “Extra rations; medical care for those in need.” The Principate explained.

“I didn’t know you did that.” She stated, brushing aside a vendor attempting to place a flower crown on her head. “Your father’s idea?”

“No, charity’s not his strong suit.” He chuckled dryly. “I feel it’s important to show that House Whele isn’t the big bad wolf Lord Riesen makes us out to be.” His smile was easy as he continued shaking hands with people.

They continued on in silence for a few moments, accepting a pair of fresh rolls covered in honey and sugar from a baker balancing his tray on his head. Selene could feel her skin prickling with sweat as the sun began beating down in earnest, but she couldn’t wear anything else in public with the tattoos standing out bold against her skin.

Her attention snapped back to William as he cleared his throat. “Selene, um… May I call you Selene?” William asked almost sheepishly.

“...Sure.” Selene replied after a beat.

William gave her a soft smile. “I can only imagine what you must be going through; what it must be like to walk in your shoes...the burden you have to shoulder.” He rested a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. “If you ever walk to talk to anyone...about anything at all, I’m here.”

Selene nodded shallowly. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“I’ve always been here, Selene.” He murmured, bowing his head close as if in reverence. “Waiting to be of service to you.”

†

“We need to talk.” Selene turned around as Michael landed on the balcony behind her, expression stern.

Selene nodded, crossing her arms over her chest as she regarded her angel. “Is this about whatever you didn’t want to talk about last night?” She questioned, raising an expectant eyebrow.

“Yes… Gabriel knows about you.” Michael stated, shifting nervously beneath her steely blue gaze.

She licked her lips, glad that her distinctive jacket with its silver arm stripes had been returned to her after Jeep’s blood had been cleaned off. Her jacket was like Michael’s duster, a different kind of armor that made her feel secure - complete. “And how do you know that Gabriel knows?” Selene interrogated.

Michael shuttered his wings, knowing they would betray his emotions more than his face would. “I met with him.” He stated plainly, as though meeting with the World’s Most Wanted Man was something he did on the regular. “I needed to know why he decided to attack.”

“So what, you just met up with the man who murdered my father for a bit of brotherly chit chat?” Her eyes were luminous in evening sunlight, almost seeming to be ringed with gold. “Jesus, Michael...forget Whele, Riesen would crucify you if he knew what you’d done!” Somewhere in the back of her mind a voice hissed,

Beware those closest to you

, reminding her of the words the tattoos had revealed last night.

“Should I be concerned about that?” He countered coolly.

Selene frowned. “What? No...of course not!” She snapped, offended. “How could you even think that?” The muscles in her jaw ticked as she ground her teeth. “I’m offended that you’d even think I’d ever betray you.”

Michael sighed softly through his nose. “I’m sorry… But the thought of you in that kind of danger…” He trailed off, allowing his wings to materialize as Selene walked over to him.

“You don’t have to apologize.” Selene murmured, placing her hands on his shoulders. “I know you just want to protect me, but if I’m the Chosen One and I’m gonna fight angels like you - like Gabriel - then I must be kinda powerful, right?” Her eyes sparked with a kind of excitement he hadn’t seen since she was a child. “I mean, it’d be kind of a let down if being the Chosen One didn’t come with any powers.”

A low chuckle left Michael’s lips and he pressed a kiss to Selene’s temple. “Riesen asked about you during my meeting with him. He inquired about your role in the war.” He muttered, a serious note lacing his words. “You must be aware that he and Whele view you as a weapon now…”

“They’ve always seen me as a weapon.” She countered calmly. “The only difference now is that I’m less expendable.”

Michael hummed under his breath and reached up to cup her cheek. “I meant what I said last night,” He said softly. “You were never alone, and you are not alone now.” His gaze was tender. “We will figure out what the tattoos mean...together.”

She smiled up at him. “Just be glad it’s not Alex you’re dealing with. You know he’d make your life impossible.” She snickered and smoothed down her uniform. “Now, I’m going to be late for my post at Riesen’s if I don’t leave now.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that.” He pressed a kiss to her lips. “Be safe.”

†

“You’re not a spoiled princess.” Selene insisted as she sat talking to Claire in one of the smaller dining rooms in the Riesen residence.

Claire shook her head, scoffing. “Actually, that’s the one thing I am.” She muttered, eyes downcast and seeming to curl in on herself. “I told him I want to stay in Vega.” Her gaze darted up to Selene. “He said he understood; that we’d work it out together...but you know what your brother’s like.”

“That I do.” Selene laughed softly. “Alex loves you, more than I think he’s loved anyone else.” She cocked her head gently, regarding Claire with steel blue eyes. “He’ll come around...give him time.”

Claire nodded, a small smile returning to her features as she straightened in her seat. “I...I was wondering if I could...um...see the tattoos again?” She asked lowly, a childlike gleam sparking in her eyes. “I mean, if you’re comfortable…”

Selene was quiet for several moments before sighing and shrugging out of her jacket and rolling up her sleeves. The tattoos spiraled around her arm like some kind of archaic filigree, the lines black and bold against her sun-bronzed skin.

“They’re so beautiful.” Claire whispered reverently, reaching out to trace the tattoos with unblemished fingertips. “This one almost looks Aramaic.” She murmured, glancing up at Selene who was watching her, an indecipherable look in her eyes. “I always had faith that the Chosen One was real, but to have proof…”

Selene hummed noncommittally and shrugged, pulling back from Claire’s touch and covering up the tattoos once more. “I wish I could figure out a way to make it so only I can see them.” She confessed. “It’s too damn hot to be wearing long sleeves underneath all my gear.”

Claire chuckled, nodding understandingly as soft footsteps reached their ears and Bixby appeared from around the corner, pale cheeks flushed from running. She stumbled to a stop at the sight of Selene sitting there, a small squeak leaving her lips before she clapped her hands over her mouth.

“Sorry!” She apologized hastily. “I thought Alex was here…” Bixby trailed off, looking sheepish as she scuffed her new shoes against the floor. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You didn’t.” Selene assured the girl, smiling warmly. “It’s Bixby, isn’t it? Alex talks about you.” She laughed softly. “The little sister he never had.” Her eyes were warm as Bixby inched closer to the women. “You’re looking better. I’m sure being here with Claire beats living in the tunnels.”

Bixby laughed then, slightly sunken eyes lighting up. “Any day!” She beamed, earning a warm-hearted laugh from both women.

Claire shook her head, continuing to smile. “And I bet bedtime didn’t exist in the tunnels either.” She said, earning a groan from Bixby as Felicia entered the dining room.

Selene stood, unease pooling in her gut as she pulled Bixby closer before pushing her towards Claire. A low voice whispered in the back of her mind, the words indecipherable but their urgency conveyed all the same. “Get behind me.” She ordered, extending an arm towards Claire and Bixby, drawing her sword in the same movement. Her palms were warm, heating up like she’d held them in front of a fire, stance becoming defensive as a pair of large wings unfurled behind Felicia. “Claire, get Bixby out of here.” Selene barked, shoving Claire into motion. “Go! Now!”

She didn’t wait to see if Claire listened, her attention focused on Felicia and the razor-sharp feathers armoring her wings. “Gabriel sends his regards.” Felicia snarled before rushing Selene, sending them both tumbling into the kitchen, slamming against the various appliances.

Alarm klaxons blared, their deafening din echoing around the kitchen as the PA system scream to life.
Attention! Security breach! Attention! Security breach!
Selene ducked as Felicia swiped at her, the razor sharp edges of her wings shredding the metal around her, sparks spraying through the air. She rolled under a counter, popping up on the other side, sword in hand as Felicia continued her single-minded rampage and somewhere out in the dining room the elevator arrived, announcing the arrival of reinforcements.

There were only so many places to go in the kitchen and the last thing Selene wanted was to end up backed into a corner with a murderous angel in front of her and nowhere to go. Her palms were burning now, heating the metal of the hilt held in her hands, and the whispering voice was building in crescendo until it seemed to be bouncing around inside her skull. Acting on instinct she threw her arm out, palm towards the angel, barely having time to register the blinding ray of light that erupted from it, sending Felicia hurtling across the kitchen.

Selene took the opportunity to advance, the distinct stench of charred flesh permeating the room along with the noxious odor of gas. A quick survey of the room allowed her to identify the severed gas line to one of the stoves and her free hand fumbled for the lighter stowed in her jacket pocket.

Her hand closed around it as Felicia pushed herself to her feet, the skin on her arms and face burnt and still smoking at the edges. An inhuman snarl left her lips as she flared her wings and ran headlong towards Selene who began sprinting for the door. Sparks flew behind her as razor-sharp wings sliced through metal with ease and she stumbled through the doorway, tossing the lighter into the gas-filled room behind her.

The explosion that followed was deafening, the heat searing as the force of it propelled Selene across the dining room, slamming her into the opposite wall and blowing out the windows with a symphony of shattering glass. Felicia wailed and screamed, the sounds inhuman as she frantically flapped her wings, trying to put out the burning appendages.

Selene pushed herself to her feet, ears ringing and head throbbing, but kept her sword held firmly between herself and the angel. Felicia hissed, barring pointed teeth before turning and launching herself out a window, her burning wings allowing Selene to track her progress as she vanished into the night.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Prophet (n) 1. It’s not just a bloody mouth and shaking hands. It’s not just stomach aches or dripping sweat or burning with fever from heaven’s glow. You found another pile of dead locusts on the back porch, their small bodies glistening in the silver moonlight. You blacked out and woke up standing naked in the river again, your arms covered with ballpoint runes and all the rocks painted with

hósanna, hósanna

in your own blood. You kissed a boy, he had nightmares about cities falling into the sea for weeks.” - Keaton St. James
----------------------

Michael watched as Becca fussed over Selene, jade green eyes bright with concern as she carefully removed Selene’s jacket and shirt to reveal purple bruises blossoming up her ribs and across her back. Her breathing was shallow and shaky, clearly trying to not aggravate her ribs any more than necessary.

He knew he should be concerned about what Riesen and Whele would do now they knew it wasn’t only him and Gabriel that could appear human, but he wasn’t. His primary concern was ensuring that Selene was alright, which she most clearly was not if the way she ground her teeth and winced with every inhale were any indication.

Small cuts freckled the right side of her face, flecks of glass gleaming from where they stuck to the wounds matching those that decorated her forearms where she’d thrown them up to protect her face, and a jagged gash slashed across her left thigh where it’d caught against the shredded edge of a counter.

Selene hissed quietly as Becca slowly and gently maneuvered her first out of her jacket and tactical vest followed by her shirt, revealing the mottled blue-and-black bruising covering her ribs. Michael inhaled sharply, heart beginning to race at the sight of Selene’s bare skin. The tattoos were gone, but she didn’t appear to notice any difference.

It spoke to his worry that Michael came over when she extended a hand, pressing a kiss to her hair and simply resting there, breathing in her scent. “I was so worried.” He confessed, reaching up to cup the back of her neck and gently pulling her close. “I almost lost you.”

He listened to the steady plink, plink as Becca began extracting the glass from Selene’s wounds, rubbing circles into the back of her neck at every wince the movement elicited. Michael wasn’t sure which one of them let loose a growl as someone began banging on the exam room door.

Becca stalked over to the door, wrenching it open, exam gloves speckled with blood and green eyes sparking at the sight of Noma standing there. “What?” She questioned sharply.

Noma stared back the fuming Consul unphased, gaze moving past her to rest on Selene and Michael. “General Riesen has called an emergency meeting of the Senate.” She stated evenly. “Michael and Commander Lannon have been ordered to appear.”

“This stinks of Whele.” Becca snarled, and she wondered when exactly her hate for the other Consul had morphed into protectiveness for the couple behind her. “You can tell the General that Commander Lannon is in no condition to testify. In fact, the only place she will be going after this, is back to the Stratosphere...to

rest

.”

Noma sighed, prompting Michael to turn and regard her. “I’m sorry, Archangel.” She apologized. “But I was told in no uncertain terms that neither of you have a choice in the matter.”

Michael growled audibly at that, dark eyes flashing as his free hand dug into the table, the metal whining in protest. Calloused fingers cupping his cheeks drew him out of his mounting anger and he looked down at Selene looking at him.

“It’ll only make things worse if we refuse.” She stated pragmatically. “The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can focus on what’s ahead.” The words were spoken softly as her gaze moved past him to Noma still standing in the doorway. “Tell the General that we’ll be there shortly.”

Noma nodded, closing the door with a sharp click that seemed impossibly loud in the tense silence.

†

The slam of the gavel drew Michael back to the present where he and Selene stood before the Senate, the latter leaning slightly against his side, warmth radiating from her even through his duster. Her jaw clenched and unclenched rhythmically, the corners of her eyes and mouth tight with pain as she’d had to refuse painkillers to remain lucid for her testimony. His gaze flicked briefly to Becca who’s worried expression mirrored his own feelings as she watched Selene for the slightest sign of distress.

“You assured me that only you and Gabriel could appear perfectly human.” Riesen stated, pulling Michael’s attention away from Selene as he stared up at the General seated in his elaborate chair, staring down at Michael as though he somehow had the right to judge the Archangel.

Michael steadied himself, it wouldn’t do to lose his temper, not when Whele would get the utmost satisfaction from something like that. “The corporeal higher angels never wanted any part of Gabriel’s war, nor did the other archangels.” He stated. “I respected their neutrality. Only the lower angels joined my brother and possessed human bodies.”

“But that’s all changed now.” Reisen pressed, features grave.

“Yes, and it distresses me as much as it does you.” Michael assured, gaze flicking to Selene, desperate to know if the tattoos had reappeared or if they were once again lost to him - to humanity. “Back in our home - in Heaven - all the angels were aware of each other; our vision was not dependent upon our eyes nor upon light.” He explained, beginning to wonder why exactly it was necessary that Selene be present for this interrogation. “But that celestial perspective ended for all of us the moment we came down to Earth. Now, we can only see as far as these eyes enable us.”

“Yes, well, that’s absolutely fascinating, but--” David interjected.

Michael raised a hand, cutting off whatever condescending statement David was about to make. “So, to answer your question once

again

, Consul...” He started. “No. I had no idea there were higher angels hiding within the city walls.”

“I see.” David sneered. “And we’re just supposed to take your word as faith?” He questioned as he rose, stepping down from his seat and striding over to Michael only for Selene to block his way.

Selene stared up at Whele, azure irises ringed with a golden circle that began to glow as her palms grew hot once more, light shining out from between her clenched fists. “How about

my

word, Consul?” She countered sharply, the challenge clear in her eyes.

“For Savior’s sake!” Senator Frost exclaimed. “Show some

respect

, Whele.”

Becca chuckled at the display of machismo. “I’d be careful if I were you, David.” She taunted. “She’s already burned the face off one person tonight. I’d hate for there to be a second.” Her grin was razor sharp as David hesitated in his advance, hand still raised where it was poised to shove Selene out of his way.

Selene’s eyes were well and truly glowing now, the irises twin orbs of golden light as she extended one arm back towards Michael while the other was held between her and David, palm glowing with gathering energy.

“I care little about your faith, Consul.” Michael snipped from over Selene’s shoulder, the heat emanating from the hand extended his way scorching even to him. “Whether you take me at my word or not, is not my concern.” He continued, upper lip curling. “My only concern is protecting and advising this city in its war against Gabriel, and ensuring the safety of the Chosen One.” Of course, his other concern was the tattoos, but a Senate meeting was neither the time nor place to air it. Most of the Senators were already worried, telling them that the tattoos had vanished would only lead to full-blown panic.

David sneered, refusing to back down and Selene couldn’t tell if he was simply that arrogant or if he genuinely had a death wish. “And exactly how many people died in the attack?”

“None, thanks to Commander Lannon.” Riesen stated evenly. “And that includes my

daughter

and her ward, Consul.” He shifted in his seat. “Michael is not on trial here, and I believe we’ve heard

enough

from you today.”

“I know I have.” Becca groused, jade eyes bright even as they flicked to Selene. “Commander Lannon’s injuries still need to be properly treated.”

Riesen nodded but Whele wasn’t done yet, turning away from an increasingly irritated Selene to face the rest of the Senate. “I would like to remind the Senate that Michael was a deserter.” He drawled, glancing back at Michael with an arrogant gleam in his eye. “A soldier who turned his back on his own kind.”

“And I would remind Consul Whele that attacking Michael while the Chosen One is present is tantamount to suicide.” Becca snarked, the steadiness of her voice giving away none of the apprehension she felt at the sight of Selene’s glowing eyes.

David smirked, something almost manic in his eyes. “So who’s to say he won’t turn again?” He taunted, turning back to Michael, uncaring that he was placing himself in Selene’s line of fire. “Who’s to say he was ever really on our side?”

Michael chuckled dryly, laying a hand on Selene’s shoulder and those present released a collective breath as the glow steadily faded from her eyes, her right hand coming up to cover his. “Consul Whele makes a good point.” He stated, dark eyes predatory in the low light of the Senate chambers. “What if I were a traitor? What if I slaughtered everyone in this room?” His cocked his head. “What if I killed you, right now, David? No one could stop me.”

His hands traveled to Selene’s waist, squeezing gently as they settled on her hips. “Her loyalty is first and foremost to the Corps, and by extension me.” Michael’s gaze was steady as it came to rest on David, and it pleased him to no end to see the telltale glint of fear in the arrogant Consul’s eyes. “Murder is a crime for men - your laws say so. But is it a crime for angels?”

“Something to ponder, Consul.” Selene interjected, canines gleaming as she grinned at a shaken David. “Maybe now you’ll finally understand how very real the danger is that we all face.” She spared David a lingering glance as Michael wrapped an arm around her shoulders, marching them both out of the Senate chambers.

†

“You know what’s the one thing I can’t do?” Claire mused as she and Alex sat at the table in her study, doing their best to ignore the additional Archangel Corps guards that had been assigned to her detail, including the ever mercurial Sergeant Noma Banks. “I can’t cook.”

Alex laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he propped one foot up on the seat. “It’s easy.” He promised, stroking a hand down Claire’s hair. “You put a fish on a stick and hold it over a fire. Works with rabbits, too.”

“I can’t fish either, Alex.” She laughed lightly, folding her legs underneath herself as she ruffled a hand through her hair. “Or hunt for that matter.”

“I can teach you.” He insisted, chuckling at her raised eyebrow. “Jeep taught me how before we came to Vega.” Alex shifted in his seat. “The rivers in New Delphi are so full of salmon, you can catch ‘em with your bare hands.”

Claire snorted and rolled her eyes, amused. “You know what I do really well?” She questioned, giving her boyfriend a pointed look. “Calling you on your bullshit.”

Alex rolled his eyes, heaving an annoyed sigh. “Oh yeah, and what bullshit is that?” He shot back sharply.

“Like the fact that no matter how much you might want it, Selene can’t outrun her own skin.” Claire snapped, hazel eyes sparking. “She’s your sister, Alex.” She reminded. “Being the Chosen One is hard enough as it is. Can you imagine how much harder it’s going to be if she doesn’t have your support?”

He looked down and licked his lips, sighing softly. “That’s the point: she’s

my

sister.” Alex said, picking at the grain of the table. “And I have no fucking idea how to keep her safe now.” His eyes flashed as they met Claire’s. “We’re soldiers. We weren’t trained to fight angels and whatever else is gonna come after her now that she’s the Chosen One.”

Claire nodded, reaching over to cup his cheek, delicate fingers gentle against sun-bronzed skin. “You’ll figure something out.” She murmured softly, scooting forward to press a kiss to his lips. “You always do.”

†

For the second time that day, Selene found herself seated on Consul Thorne’s exam table while waiting Becca and Michael hovered near by.

“I’d make a joke about you turning into a Mother Hen, but somehow I don’t think you’d appreciate it.” She commented, shooting her Archangel an impish smile and silently celebrating the small slight uptick of Michael’s lips, but it was swallowed just as quickly by the concern pooling in his dark eyes. “Everything’s fine, Michael. I’m alive.”

Michael rocked his jaw, eyes flashing. “That’s not the

point

, Selene.” He retorted sharply, voice harsher than he meant it to be. “The point is that you

could

have been killed.” True, it wasn’t the first time he’d nearly lost her, the scar on her right side curving from the bottom of her ribs to her hip was proof enough. But he had never loved another the way he loved Selene, and as foolish as it was, he often found himself imagining them building a life together - a future.

He admonished himself often for such thoughts. After all, such a future was impossible, Selene was mortal and she would die as all mortals did while he would be left to an existence empty of everything and everyone he loved.

As if sensing the dark train of his thoughts, Selene took his hand and threaded their fingers together. “ Hey…” Selene said softly, tugging gently on the hand she was holding. “Come here.” She parted her knees to create a vee for him to step into, and it spoke to the level of his distress that he went without protest, slotting himself into the space
she had created and dropping his head to the crook of her neck.

Michael’s breathing stuttered along the exposed skin there, as if he was barely holding himself together, and maybe he was though the thought scared Selene more than she would admit. Because Michael was her rock, her steadfast pillar in a storm as she was to him, and when either of them wavered, well...it scared them more than they’d like to admit.

“I’m okay…” Selene breathed, turning her head to nuzzle against the side of his neck. “I promise.” She reassured him, taking his hands and threading their fingers together. “It’s just some bruises, and few cracked ribs; nothing I can’t handle.”

“But it

could

have been worse!” Michael retorted, voice slightly muffled against her shoulder. “You could have been kil--” He choked off the last word, swallowing thickly and Selene swore she could feel warmth dripping onto her skin where he was pressed against her.

Selene shushed him softly, reaching up to cup the back of his neck and press a kiss to the side of his head. “But I wasn’t.” She stated firmly, nudging him back so she could look him in the eyes, the dark orbs glassy with unshed tears as she cupped his face in her hands. “And do you know why? Because you trained me to be better than you.”

He stared at her, at the azure eyes that made up the beginning and end of his world, reveling in her thumbs brushing absentmindedly across his cheekbones. His throat felt clogged and he didn’t trust his voice as tears trickled down his cheeks unbidden before leaning forward and capturing Selene’s lips in a deep kiss, hoping to convey everything he felt in that one gesture. And, if her reciprocation and answering smile were any indication, she understood him perfectly.

They separated as the door opened and Consul Thorne entered, carrying with her a bin containing rolls of ace bandages and a bag of blood.

“I don’t remember bleeding enough to require a blood transfusion.” Selene stated, raising an eyebrow at the bin’s contents and shooting Becca a quizzical look.

“You didn’t.” Becca answered as she hooked the blood bag onto an IV stand. “The blood is Michael’s. It’ll speed up the healing process.” She explained, glancing at Selene who in turn looked at Michael slightly wide-eyed. “Unless of course you’d rather wait the six weeks it’ll take for those bruises to heal sufficiently for you to return to full duty.”

Selene frowned. “I’d rather not.” She retorted, giving her Archangel a pointed look that said they were going to discuss the matter of his blood later. “Can’t have the Chosen One out of commission, after all.”

Becca and Michael exchanged a look at the comment, but quickly returned their attention to Selene who held her arm out expectantly towards Becca who sterilized the crook of her elbow before finding a vein and sliding the needle in.

As she watched her Archangel’s blood flow from the bag into her body, Selene found herself wondering if this would mean she was technically half-angel, and whether her life could possibly get any weirder.

†

As Alex walked through the infirmary, he continued to convince himself that he was doing the right thing. After all, it was being done with the intention of keeping his sister safe.

That had to make it okay…right?

He rounded the corner, nodding to Michael and Consul Thorne as they passed him, the pair deep in discussion no doubt about something regarding his sister. The sight was enough to convince Alex that he was doing the right thing.

Ignoring the shaking of his hands as he turned the handle of the examination room and ducked inside, taking in the sight of his sister laying back on the table, IV line connected to a nearly empty blood bag. His footsteps were silent as he moved further inside, closing the door behind him and set down his backpack before unzipping one of the pockets and retrieving the bottle of chloroform.

As he worked, soaking a towel in the chemical, his eyes traced his sister’s dozing figure, brow furrowing at the bruises decorating her side that had already begun to fade from black to blue - something that shouldn’t have been possible in such a short about of time. But then again, he knew fuck all about what it meant to be the Chosen One.

It spoke to the extent of her injuries and exhaustion that Selene only snuffled softly before going quiet once more when Alex knocked into the table. And it spoke to his desperation that the consequences of his actions didn’t even cross his mind once as he gently removed the needle from her arm before clamping the drugged cloth over his sister’s mouth and nose.

Selene woke with a start and a gasp, inhaling the debilitating substance and clawing at the arm holding her down. Her eyes went wide at the sight of the face above her, the betrayal pooling in them threatening to break his resolve. But the sight of the bruises and cuts marring his sister’s skin - and knowing that they could’ve been avoided - spurred him on as he redoubled his grip. What must’ve only been a few minutes felt like hours as Selene’s struggles weakened, her hands loosening their grip on his wrist and her kicks losing their strength just before her eyes rolled up into her head and she grew still.

Alex panted above the form of his now unconscious sister, glancing at the door and listening for the tell-tale sound of footsteps. There were none. He exhaled in a rush, the breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding punching itself from his lungs as the reality of what he’d done settled in. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he grabbed Selene’s shirt from where it was draped over a chair and awkwardly maneuvered her into it. He knew it wouldn’t be long before Michael and Consul Thorne returned and he hurriedly shoved his arms through the straps of his backpack, securing them across his chest.

Opening the door a crack he moved back over to his sister, lifting her limp form into her arms and tucking her face against the crook of his shoulder. Goosebumps rose where her breath ghosted over his skin, and he swallowed thickly, steeling himself as he nudged the door the rest of the way open with his foot and stepped out into the hallway.

It was laughably easy to make his way out of the infirmary, stating that “he was taking his sister back to the Stratosphere” to rest whenever he ran into someone. Once outside he opened up the back door and laid her down across the back seats before climbing into the driver’s seat, and began maneuvering his way through Vega’s bustling streets.

He slowed to a stop just before the section of wall he’d chosen to exit through. Thanks to the angel attack at the Jubilee, power was being restored section-by-sections to those had been knocked out, and the one he was stopped at was still dark. Hopping out of the jeep he walked over to the gate where Mack was standing guard.

“You’re not seriously trying to sneak out right after an angel tried to kill your girlfriend.” Mack stated as he slung his weapon across his back. “You know Selene’s gonna catch hell for this.”

Alex shook his head, feigning his usual cockiness. “Nah, man. Michael won’t punish her after the beating she took last night.” He gave Mack a playful shove, resisting the urge to glance back at the jeep to see if everything was alright. “Come on, I just need to clear my head for an hour or two. I’ll be back before shift change.”

Mack rocked his jaw, staring at his best friend contemplatively before crossing his arms over his chest and sighing. “

Fine.

” He groaned and walked over to the keypad next to the gate, punching in the access code. “But if I catch hell for this from the Peacock, I will

not

hesitate to throw you under the bus. That,

and

you owe me.

Big time

.”

“Yeah, yeah. You can hit me up when I get back.” He placated, bumping fists with Mack before climbing back into the jeep and starting the engine.

Driving through the gate, Alex rolled his eyes at Mack’s sarcastic salute, watching the gate shut behind him. He exhaled shakily, glancing back at Selene who continued to sleep obliviously. He pressed down on the gas pedal, the derelict ruins of what used to be Vega before the wall blurring by in flashes of glass and steel. It wasn’t long before Vega was disappearing behind him a cloud of dust.

His sister was safe.

Comments are love <3

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Prophet (n) 2. When you were little you liked to dream about meeting an angel, their soft white tunic, their soft eyes, their soft molten gold halo. But Michael has wings made of barbed wire and a halo of starfire and his lightning-strike voice makes cracks in your bedroom mirror every time he visits. 3. They call you proclaimer. God’s holiness lives deep inside you like a sword in the gut. Yours are rattled bones.” - Keaton St. James

Mack sauntered through the locker room, hoping his bravado would hide the fact that he was internally freaking out that Alex hadn’t come back yesterday. “Straight from the personal dressing room of a V-6; a man I guarantee wears only the finest.” He spun as he handed DeLuca the cologne he’d swiped. “See that little guy on the horse with the mallet? Means it’s the good stuff.”

Noma glanced at him from her place in front of her locker, raising a quizzical eyebrow. “And what about my scotch?” She asked.

“I haven’t forgotten.” Mack answered, already knowing that she knew something was off. “I got an eye on this sweet bottle in House Romero. Seriously, she drinks this stuff like water.” He leaned against her locker, ducking his head. “Alex is gone.”

“Another joyride outside the walls, great.” Noma snorted dismissively as she strapped her tactical vest into place.

Mack shook his head. “That’s what I thought when I let him through last night. But then he didn’t come back this morning and I went to check his bunk,” He explained hurriedly. “All his stuff his gone - even his AR-15...gone. And the Commander hasn’t been seen either…”

Noma heaved a put upon sigh. “He’s taken Selene outside Vega. I know it.” She sighed again and shook her head. “Alex wants nothing more than to keep his sister safe, and she was just attacked by an angel

inside

Vega.” Her lips pressed into a firm line. “I’m gonna go talk to Michael.”

“Do we

really

have to involve the Peacock?” He whined, flinching as Noma rounded on him.

“Alex just

kidnapped

the Chosen One, Mack.” Noma hissed, dark eyes gleaming. “Michael is her protector.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Besides, they aren’t sufficiently armed to be outside the walls for long. So yeah,

we’re

going to

Michael.

”

✝

They were three hours outside Vega, well past The Strip, and into the suburban subdivisions of what had once been Enterprise, NV. Most of the houses had been reclaimed by the earth, their husks swallowed up by sand dunes and creeping vines.

He glanced back at the still unconscious form of his sister, hoping she wouldn’t wake before he got them somewhere safe. Alex squinted at the road ahead, the cracked asphalt combined with the hot air rippling like a mirage, but as he rubbed his eyes with one hand, it was clear that the wrecked car not 500 feet in front of him was no mirage.

“Fucking 8-balls.” He cursed as he slowed to a stop in front of the twisted wreck. A man was sprawled across the pavement while a woman hung upside down from the passenger seat, as he hopped out, boots hitting the asphalt with dull thuds.

The man on the ground groaned, blearily looking up at Alex as he approached and knelt down. “My wife…” He whimpered, blood coating the side of his face. “My wife - is she okay? Is she alive?”

Alex looked over to the woman in the passenger seat and the gaping hole ripping her neck open, blood pooled on the roof beneath her. “Yeah...yeah…” He lied, hoping his voice didn’t betray him. “She’s just shaken up.”

“We were making a run for Vega; the angels came out of nowhere, man.” The man stated and coughed, blood bubbling up and spilling over his chin. “You shouldn’t be out here on your own...no one should.” He breathed, coughing again as tears slipped down his cheeks, leaving trails through the blood caked on his skin. “

Please

...take care of my wife.”

His chest spasmed as he coughed violently, more blood trickling out the sides of his mouth. “I’ll make sure she’s safe.” Alex murmured and drew his pistol in the same breath, standing. “I’m sorry…” He whispered, the words swallowed by the crack of the gunshot, the man slumping over - dead.

Walking back to the jeep, he climbed into the driver’s seat and glanced back at Selene who continued to breathe evenly, the combination of the chloroform and sheer exhaustion keeping her under and completely oblivious to the events that had just taken place. Putting the car in drive, Alex pushed his actions from his mind, determined to remain firm in his conviction as he continued on down the highway toward their destination.

✝

“Louis…” Michael greeted, startling the mild-mannered grocer. He knew even without his wings out that he cut an imposing figure, looking down at the nondescript grocer with a gaze that in another age would have reduced the other angel to dust.

Louis shuddered under the Archangel’s piercing gaze, wings pressing tight against his back despite being hidden as he averted his gaze in submission. “You

have

to believe me, Michael. I had no idea Felicia was siding with Gabriel.” He wrung his hands, twisting the fabric of his apron and wrinkling the material. “None of us did.”

Michael nodded understandingly. “I’m not accusing you.” He assured Louis, dropping a hand to the smaller angel’s shoulder and squeezing softly. “But I do need your help keeping an eye out for infiltrators.”

“I can’t tell an angel from a human any more than you can. You know that.” He reminded, making sure to keep his tone neutral. Michael’s temper was Biblical, after all.

“Then keep an eye on the ones you do know.” Michael insisted and then sighed. “I understand you not wanting to go against your fellow angel; you’re refugees from a war your had no part of.” He rolled his shoulders, flexing his wings into existence. “I kept your secret, Louis. But times have changed.” The Archangel squared his shoulders, dark eyes smoldering with a heat that Louis hadn’t seen since the battlefields of old. “Tell the others: stand with

me

, or

leave

Vega.”

Louis nodded, a shudder running down his spine at the darkness he found in Michael’s eyes, but his own were busy flitting between the Archangel and the nervous-looking Sergeant behind him - Noma at his flank.

Michael smiled to himself as Louis walked away to help a woman with her produce selection as he let Sergeant Mack sweat a bit longer.

"Archangel…" Noma murmured, an undercurrent of something more urgent underneath the normal calmness of her tone as she shoved Mack forward. "Tell him."

"Sergeant?" Michael muttered, glancing over his shoulder sedately despite the unease building at having two of his Sergeants come to him -

especially

Noma.

"...Mack…" Mack supplied, knowing that he was only one of nearly two dozen Sergeants in the Corps and scuffed his boot in the dirt.

Michael's wings bristled in irritation; he disliked beating around the bush as the humans called it. "I know who you are." He drawled, containing his rising irritation and mounting apprehension for now.

Mack swallowed nervously, wringing his hands behind his back as he caught wind of Michael and Noma's annoyance. He took a breath, licking his lips before everything came out in a rush. “Alex convinced me to let him the city last night. He said he needed to clear his head, and I believed him, thinking he was just going on another joyride. But he didn’t come back before my shift ended and when I checked his bunk this morning all his stuff was gone - even his AR-15, and no one’s seen the Commander either.”

The Archangel whipped around before Mack had even finished speaking, eyes blazing with a fury Noma had only seen directed at Gabriel. “Commander Lannon isn’t in the Infirmary?” He ground out.

“You didn’t know that…” Mack muttered, trailing off as Michael launched himself into the air, the backdraft from his wings forcing the Sergeants to shield their faces. Michael was nothing but a speck in the distance by the time the dust cleared.

✝

Selene was drifting - somewhere in between the oblivion of unconsciousness and the insistent, needling tug of consciousness. Her years of training - and whatever enhanced instincts being the Chosen One gave her - made it so that she could already tell three things: (1) she’d been drugged; (2) she was in a vehicle; and (3) she...and whoever was driving were no longer in Vega.

She blinked blearily, clearing the unwanted sleep from her eyes and slowly turned her head, not wanting to alert her captor that she was conscious as she squinted against the sunlight and the sudden piercing headache only for the back of her brother’s head to come into focus.

Idiot!

Only her brother - who acted before thinking more often than not - would think she’d be safe

outside

Vega. Her anger was smothered as her stomach rolled violently as the jeep bounced over a pothole, the last meal Selene had eaten threatening to make an encore appearance.

Her mouth was impossibly dry and all she wanted was to take a drink from the canteen she could see rolling around on the floor, but even with Michael’s blood in her system, her body was slow to respond against whatever drug was still lingering her bloodstream.

That, and given how rash Alex was acting, Selene wasn’t sure how her brother would react to her being awake and aware before they got to wherever he was taking them.

It was a disturbing feeling,

Selene realized.

That she was afraid of her brother...and what he was capable of doing to her.

The jeep bounced hard over another series of potholes and it was all Selene could do to keep from crying out as her head cracked against the door.

Oh, yes, Alex, she was definitely safer flopping around in the back of a jeep like a fish out of water than in Vega,

Selene grumbled to herself and bit down on the inside of her cheek as the jeep jerked over what must have been a particularly large crack in the asphalt.

She nearly gave herself away as the jeep came to a screeching halt, the force sending her tumbling to the floor where she only just managed to get her arms to cooperate enough to protect her face. Alex hadn’t seemed to notice, too intently focused on whatever it was that had made him stop. Selene registered the driver’s side door opening and closing followed closely by a voice she’d never been so happy to hear.

“Where is she?” Michael questioned sharply, dark eyes stormy and wings flared as Alex stood his ground beside the stolen jeep. “Where is Selene?” He repeated, feathers bristling with barely contained rage. In truth, Michael already knew that she was in the back seat, but he was hoping for her sake that Alex would tell him.

Alex sneered arrogantly back at the Archangel. “She’s safe.” He insisted, right hand hovering over his glock as he continued staring Michael down. Rationally, he knew it was stupid and that there’d be no way to stop the Archangel if Michael actually decided to attack.

“It’d be a shame for you to lose that hand.” Michael drawled, purposefully dragging out the confrontation so that Selene could get her bearings and, hopefully, manage to get out of the car.

“Is that a threat?” Alex retorted, stomach clenching with more than a little anxiety. He wanted to look back at the jeep - to check on Selene - but he knew better than to turn his back on the Archangel.

Michael’s upper lip curled in disgust. “A warning.” He stated plainly and took several steps forward. “Bullets have a way of doing more damage to the person firing them than they’ve ever been able to do to me.” His wings flexed, stretching out to their full span. “I won’t ask again - where is Selene?”

Alex smirked, but it faded as the backdoor of the jeep clicked open and Selene’s knees hit the ground with a thud. His eyes went wide as he looked behind him, watching as Selene slowly pushed herself to her feet, leaning heavily against the jeep.

“Michael…” Selene groaned and clutched her stomach, doubling over as her body began to violently reject its contents. Alex moved to step forward, but Michael was faster, seemingly by his sister’s side before he could blink and holding back her hair as she continued to dry heave. “You found me…” She murmured once she’d rinsed her mouth out, collapsing back against Michael’s chest, chest heaving.

Michael pressed a kiss to her hair, wrapping both arms and wings around her as though Selene needed to be protected from Alex. “I’ll always find you.” He soothed and continued to encourage her to take small sips of water before turning his still blazing eyes on Alex. “Where exactly did you think you would take her?” The Archangel questioned, words laced with barely restrained fury.

“New Delphi.” Alex fired back, glaring at the Archangel. “To keep my sister safe to give her a life away from anyone telling her who she’s supposed to be.”

“You have no idea what New Delphi is like,” Michael snapped. “Or what awaits your sister there!” His obsidian stare was hard, but he shuttered his wings as Selene moved to stand, footing decidedly more firm than before.

Selene ran her fingers through her hair, pushing the blonde strands away from her face and stared hard at her brother. “You kidnapped me… I can’t believe you thought kidnapping me was a good decision!” She shouted, disbelief lacing her words.

“I did it to keep you safe!” Alex retorted petulantly, crossing his arms over his chest. “You were just attacked by an angel

inside

Vega!”

“Oh yes, and taking me outside the walls and into the desert where there are 8-balls, God knows what else, and absolutely

nothing

to protect us from Gabriel is

so

much safer!” She replied sarcastically. “I swear to

God

, the second we get back to Vega I’m tossing you in the brig and throwing away the key.”

Beware those closest to you. That’s what the tattoos had told her. She just never thought they’d meant her own twin.

Alex was fuming, nostrils flaring as he sucked in deliberately deep breaths. “I’m not going back to Vega.” He stated. “There’s nothing there for me.”

Selene stared at him, mouth agape. “Jesus! Are you even listening to yourself?” She asked incredulously. “You have

everything

back in Vega! You have a girlfriend who loves you, a home, friends...Bixby...and you have

me

.” Her voice was small by the end, reminding him far too much of that night their father had come back. “I just-- My home is Vega, Alex.”

He watched as she reached back towards Michael who automatically extended his hand, lacing their fingers together. Alex deflated some at the gesture, sighing heavily, though he wasn’t nearly ready to admit that he’d been wrong or that his actions were reactive as opposed to well thought out.

“If we go back I’ll be Realigned for sure.” Alex pointed out and let his arms flop down against his sides. “Or I’ll be exiled; Whele would have a field day with that.”

“You won’t be Realigned.” Michael intoned as he came to stand directly behind Selene, loosely wrapping one arm around her waist. “Your sister is the Chosen One, and I know that despite your actions that she loves you. Selene will ensure that your punishment is up to her.”

Alex looked to Selene, gaze searching while she stared back impassively, expression unreadable. “Fine.” Selene snapped after what seemed like an eternity. “But that’s beside the point; we’re not safe out here, and there’s no way we’d be able to make it back to Vega by nightfall.”

“I know somewhere we can take shelter for the night.” Michael interjected, maintaining his grip on Selene’s waist. “It’s not far from here. We should be able to reach it before dark.”

Selene glanced up at the Archangel and then back at her brother. “We should get going then.” She muttered before walking around the front of the car and hopping into the driver’s seat, gesturing impatiently for Michael and Alex to get in.

Both reached the passenger side door at the same time, and Alex glared at Michael as the Archangel yanked open the door. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Alex asked, cheeks flushing with his rising irritation.

Michael stared back, entirely unphased by Alex’s rather unimpressive tantrum. “Calling shotgun.” He deadpanned and climbed into the jeep, gaze unflinchingly steady on Alex until her brother huffed in exasperation and clambered into the back seat.

“You do realize I have no idea where I’m going.” Selene murmured as she put the jeep in drive and continued on down the desolate highway, the heat from the sun relentless even through the windshield.

Michael’s answering smile was sanguine, as though he knew something she didn’t, which probably did. “You’ll know when you get there.” He replied cryptically and turned his gaze to the road ahead.

✝

Claire was certain that she’d never been more furious in her life, and that was including the many times she’d had to deal with David Whele. She couldn’t believe that her father had ordered the Archangel Corps to toss her classroom, round up her students and have them questioned as if they were criminals for simply having come into contact with Felicia. Actually, she could believe it, and that only served to spark her ire further.

“I will not sit back and wait until the next attack to find out who our enemies are!” General Riesen stated, the metals on his coat flashing in the fading sunlight as he turned to face his daughter.

Claire rolled her eyes. “So you’re rounding up innocent families instead? Children, even.” She’d never thought her father would be the kind of man to submit to fear mongering.

“Jeep’s assassin was a

child

.” Her father retorted sharply, words clipped.

“Fine.” She conceded, but continued to stare him down unflinchingly. “But Roan wasn’t one of

our

children, and people are already on edge,” Claire implored. “Now they’re going to be scared of their neighbors, unsure of who they can trust. Do you really think this helps?”

General Riesen clenched his jaw, unwilling to back down or concede that his daughter might’ve been making a valid point. “I

absolutely

think it helps.” He affirmed, straightening his posture. “It shows the people that we’re taking steps necessary to protect them.”

Claire scoffed in disbelief and disgust, eyes sparking with defiant fire. “This isn’t about

protection

. It’s about

politics

.” She sneered, every word dripping with poisonous disgust. “You’re under fire for allowing a higher angel to hide in

our

home, so divert attention you’ve ordered a massive response - one that

can’t

be ignored.” Her tone was incredulous as she shook her head, laughing hollowly. “The

great

General Riesen comes to the rescue again…”

“Those families are back home by now.” The General rationalized, already knowing that Claire was slipping further and further from his sphere of influence. “They were questioned and released.”

“Oh, well that makes me full

so much bette

r

.

”

He sighed and leaned heavily on his cane. “You were within inches of being killed.” Her father reminded, watery blue eyes hard. “I will not sit back and--”

“No!” Claire exploded, voice rising enough that even the guards stationed at the doors shifted uncomfortably. “No...don’t you

dare

use me to justify the detention of innocent V-1s.” She snarled, chest heaving as she struggled to control her temper. “

Don’t you dare!

”

General Reisen hung his head, sighing heavily as he moved to sit down in the nearest armchair, heart thudding painfully in his chest and he pressed a hand to it, rubbing absently. “What do you want me to do Claire?” He asked tiredly, watching as Claire ran her fingers frustratingly through her hair.

“I want you to treat them like people and not numbers.” She implored, sinking down onto the edge of the couch. “You do remember that all those below a V-6 designation are people, right? People under

your

protection.”

“I

understand

that, Claire.” He replied tersely, more than tired of having the same cyclical argument with his daughter. “But if you want to change things, and I mean

really

change them then you should marry William.”

Claire groaned, dropping her head to her hands and exhaling an exasperated sigh. “I don’t get it.” She muttered, shaking her head and looking up at her father. “You’ve never pushed me to get married or even tried to arrange a match for me before; you said you wanted me to marry for

love

like you and mom did. So why...why are you pushing so hard for me to marry William

now

?” She scooted closer to her father, reaching out to take his hands in hers, hating the way they trembled ever to slightly. “There’s something you’re not telling me. I’m your daughter; you can fool your friends in the Senate, but

not

me.”
Riesen chuckled dryly, gaze suddenly impossibly sad. Claire was only twenty-five - far too young for the burden he would soon ask her to bear. He wanted her to have her youth, and - yes - he wanted her to marry for love, but those were not the circumstances he found himself in now. Now, there was no other recourse. “I’m sick, Claire. Heart failure.”
✝

“You met with the priest.” Furiad stated as Gabriel alighted in the Eyrie, hands and armor slick with blood. “And gave him a demonstration as well, I see.” His red armored feathers clinked softly as he shifted to watch Gabriel pace further into the enormous cave.

Gabriel sighed, dipping his hands in a basin of water, entranced by the way the blood formed random patterns in the water. “As with all evils...a necessary one.” He stated, shaking the water from his hands before wiping the excess off on his pants. “But he’s spreading the good word; gathering acolytes and followers to our cause.”

Furiad shot him a sidelong glance, wings bristling in irritation.

How much longer would it be before Gabriel finally brought the Chosen One to them? Finally brought her to where she rightfully belonged?

“If you can walk among them unnoticed, why not simply cross the wall and claim the Chosen One for yourself?” He questioned sharply, amber eyes bright.

“Always so

anxious

, Furiad.” The Archangel chuckled, amused. “If I force her, she’ll do nothing but rebel. She must come of her own free will.” He explained evenly. “You know this.”

“Two of my High Guards are in Preservation.” Furiad snarled, full lips pulling back from his teeth. “How many more must be sacrificed while we await her arrival?” He paced, much like a lion waiting for the opportunity to hunt its prey.

Gabriel smirked,

He enjoyed toying with his own soldiers as much as he did the humans. If for no other reason, then to remind them who was in charge.

“I hate to quote the humans, but ‘patience is a virtue’.” He stated coolly.

Furiad scoffed, armored wings flexing and relaxing rhythmically. “Lannon will never join us with your brother sitting on his shoulder.” He insisted, fists clenched, blade hungry for fresh blood.

The Archangel strode back over to the edge of the cavern, now mortal eyes staring out at the swirling snow and howling winds. “I have faith that the Chosen One’s path will lead her to me.” He murmured, teeth gleaming as he grinned widely. “One way

or

another…”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Dear Readers,
Due to the recent fraudulent activity on the part of third-party "reader" apps such as Fanfic Pocket Archive Library (Unofficial) which is being operated out of Minsk, Belarus and has committed copyright violation and intellectual property theft by copying-and-pasting my stories to its for-profit app, I have made the decision to "lock" my stories and only make them available to registered users.
I realize that this will mean that outside readers will be unable to access them, but until the Archive deals with the above and other third-party "reader" apps, and honors its legal obligation to protect its users, I want to do everything I can to protect my work.
Complaints have been filed with the Archive, the FBI, the FBI Cyber Crime Division, and the Intellectual Property Rights Center regarding this matter. It is my hope that something will be done about this soon.
Until then, thank you for your readership, and I hope to be able to "unlock" my story soon.
Very truly yours,Aviator39

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Messiah (n.) 1. Your favorite word is
yesha
. You’ve got blisters on your feet, dirt on your shins, sunburn on your neck, and the taste of blood in your mouth, always. Everyone you touch burns like a blue star. Trout would become matzah if you asked. Reeds would become swords if you asked.” - Keaton St. James

“Consul Thorn, I head your proposal for a sub-committee to review food supply contingencies.” Becca bristled as David sidled up behind her as the Senate adjourned for the day, cologne stinging her nose as she clenched her jaw. “Way to go.” He continued patronizingly, taking her by the elbow and steering them away from the other Senators. “One more thing...our

friend

Michael, I understand he’s not able to identify these higher angels; but I was thinking, Michael has the ability to appear perfectly human too. What if we

understood

the Archangel more - his vulnerabilities? It would better prepare us to counter this new threat, don’t you think? As a scientist, of course.”

Becca resisted the urge to curl her upper lip in disgust at David’s saccharine tone, the beguiling curl of his lips. “Michae’s not going to put himself under a microscope.” She stated firmly, smirking. “Why don’t you ask him yourself? I’m sure he’d love to sit down for coffee.”

“Did you miss the part where he threatened to

murder

me today?” David replied, indignant.

“Oh no, I caught that.” Becca snarked.

David ground his teeth, anger sparking in his chest - he disliked being toyed with. “I was actually thinking you could run point.” He pressed, determined to get his way. “What with your unique position; I figured you might have access to privileged information.”

Becca glared at the other Consul, wishing she could will him to burst into flames and put everyone out of their misery of having to deal with him. “I know

you

think that every ex-lover has to be a jealous, vengeful bitch, David.” She hissed, jade eyes sparking. “But I love Selene like a sister. I would give my life for her.” Her teeth flashed as she shoved him away from her, knocking him against the wall. “Find someone else to be your Doctor Mengele!”

She could feel David’s eyes on her as she stalked away but didn’t dare turn back.

The man was deranged, thinking that she’d ever agree to dissect Michael like some science experiment.

Becca hurried out of the Senate proper knowing she had to warn Michael and Selene, or at the very least put the Corps on alert.

David watched Becca walk away from him, fists clenched at his sides hard enough that his blunt nails dug into the flesh of his palms.

Did none of them realize how much of a threat Michael and his precious Chosen One posed to them?

He flexed his jaw, the joint clicking and whining at the pressure. Well, he always had been a resourceful man. Someone would give him what he wanted, he simply had to figure out the right price.

✝

Selene stared ahead at the endless desert stretching before them. They’d stopped to refill the tank once from the cans in the back. The ride had been silent aside from Michael occasionally asking if she wanted him to take over driving. She’d declined despite the fatigue pulling at her bones; she needed to have control of something after everything she’d just been through.

They were coming up on what had been Jean, Nevada; the last town before they would hit the former Mojave Natural Preserve. Rotting and dilapidated houses greeted them with their caved in roofs like hats dipped in welcome, shattered windows and splintered wood in the place of eyes and teeth.

The steering wheel was hot beneath her hands as she flexed them against the leather, a tingling sensation beginning to travel all along her body where the tattoos had inked themselves into her skin.

Images flashed in the air before her, blending in with the wavering heat coming off the road. Alex and their father playing basketball in front of a hoop with tattered netting; 8-balls crawling over the roof; gunshots; a woman screaming; and the sing of Michael’s swords as he drew them.

Selene slammed on the brakes, startling Alex who slid forward in his seat, nearly making out with the back of the passenger seat. Michael was unphased, watching with his usual coolness as Selene climbed out of the car, approaching the house they had stopped in front of.

Like the others, the roof had caved-in in places allowing shafts of scorching sunlight to penetrate the contents hidden within. Glass littered the ground and the porch where the windows had blown out, and a rusting basketball hoop with no net stood as a lone sentry in the driveway.

He watched as Selene stopped just short of the driveway, seemingly staring at nothing, but Michael knew that the tattoos were once more showing her something. Climbing out of the jeep, he kept himself between Selene and Alex, a single pair of wings slightly outstretched like a barrier.

“What did you see?” Michael murmured as he reached Selene, gently placing one hand on her shoulder - grounding her. He knew what it was like to bear the markings; the visions and images they had shown him had been at once terrifying and bolstering, giving him hope for a brighter future.

Selene shuddered, feeling cold even under the blazing sun. “He lost his mind.” She whispered, visions of her father desperately trying to understand the tattoos burned into her mind. Jeep clawing at his skin, scribbling nonsense on the walls, and crying out to a God that would never answer. “They drove him insane.” Blinking rapidly to clear her sight of the lingering visions, she stared at the house ahead.

“Your father did not come here to hide from the tattoos.” Michael explained calmly, squeezing Selene’s shoulder gently as he moved closer to her. “This place was his sanctuary; it meant something to Jeep.” He licked his lips, the seering desert breeze ruffling his feathers. “This is where your mother died trying to protect you.”

Both siblings’ breathing hitched at the revelation, a longing for something they never really knew making their chests ache as Selene dared to approach the house and walk through the splintered doorway.

The front door was all the way across the small entrance, its pieces still showing remnants of bright blue paint that clashed with the jagged claw marks. Sand coated the floorboards, hiding most the blood stains that marred the walls, the browned crimson standing out against the white paint. Slashes that were indistinguishable as coming from claws or Michael’s swords peppered the hallway walls leading to the single bathroom where even with the sand collecting in it, Selene could tell that the porcelain bathtub had been absolutely drenched in blood.

“I found her here.” Michael whispered, sadness lacing his words and Selene trembled. “Her body wrapped around you both; there wasn’t even a scratch on you. It was a miracle.”

Selene turned to face him then, her Archangel, whose dark eyes held a sadness she hadn’t seen even when he spoke of Heaven. “What happened?” She asked, not entirely sure if she could stomach the answer.

Michael sighed heavily, breath trembling as he thought back to that day.

There’d been so much blood.

“Your mother and Jeep barricaded themselves in here to keep you safe, but the 8-balls would stop at nothing to get to you.” He shuddered briefly at the memory of claws and serrated teeth sinking into his flesh, spilling blood from his body that was just becoming accustomed to being mortal. “I fought to get to them - to you - but by the time I did and had fought off the last of them it was too late.” His wings twitched and trembled, but he forced himself to leave them out, to allow them to telegraph his emotions. “Jeep went to bury her body and I held you in my arms.”

She stared at her Archangel, at the raw emotion creasing his normally controlled features as unshed tears made his dark eyes glisten like the night sky. Selene reached out, cupping one hand against his cheek, heart clenching at the way he automatically leaned into it.

“You wouldn’t stop crying; it was as if you were mourning her death.” He murmured against her palm, swallowing as he reigned in his emotions so that he could get the next part out. “Noma held Alex, but he was quiet, as if he understood that crying would not bring your mother back.”

“Noma was here?” Selene questioned, rationalizing that it really wasn’t that much of startling revelation that one of her best friends was a higher angel.

Of course, Michael would ensure that she was protected.

Michael nodded, unconsciously nuzzling into Selene’s palm as though comforting himself to get through the retelling. “Gabriel had sent her to kill you both, but when the time came she couldn’t bring herself to do it.” He stated flatly. “She submitted herself to my justice, and nearly executed her when I decided that there was another way she could atone.”

Selene inhaled deeply, the anger she should’ve felt by the knowledge that Noma had once been one of Gabriel’s followers failing to come or even so much as spark in her chest. Perhaps it was her trust in Michael, or the fact that she’d burnt out her anger on Alex. “By protecting us.” She concluded lowly and swiped at the tears trickling down his cheeks with her thumb. “Whose decision was it to abandon us?”

“Jeep’s - he insisted that he couldn’t be a father with your mother gone; that you had to be on your own - to struggle and fall - so you could rise.” He scoffed, pulling back and blinking rapidly to dispel the building tears.

“You know, I used to think he was the

best

dad.” Her laugh was hollow. “He’d bring me and Alex out here on the weekends to teach us survival skills, but he’d let us drive his car and teach us how to shoot guns… We

needed

a father.” Selene insisted, the familiar anger at her father that she thought had been extinguished with his death sparking back to life in her chest.

Michael sighed, finally shuttering his wings. “That’s what I said.

I

understood the pain and suffering he was about to inflict by abandoning you; I felt the same the first time I realized that my father would no longer answer me.” He looked to Selene, gaze raw as he held hers. “He insisted that he loved you more than anything, and that he was giving you up because he believed in you.” His hands came to rest on her shoulders, somehow feeling at once both heavy and reassuring. “I

believe

in you, Selene. And, as I promised Jeep and your mother as she lay dying, I will do

anything

I must to protect you.”

✝

“Where are you off to?” William came to a stop as he passed the open doors of his father’s study, heart thudding in his chest.

His followers were waiting for him.

William steadied his breathing. “Church business.” He lied easily, and wondered when it had started coming so easily to him.

David scoffed, not the least bit impressed by his son’s attempt to hoodwink him. “Services aren’t for another twelve hours,” He countered. “At least tell me you’re sneaking out in order to romance Claire. How are the plans for the wedding coming along?”

“Now’s not the time.” William insisted, knowing his father wouldn’t listen or care about the fact that Claire had absolutely no interest in him romantically.

No, those feelings belonged to Sergeant Lannon.

“Claire needs me as a

friend.

”

“A friend,” David mused mockingly. “Is that what you are to her?”

William ground his teeth, forcing himself to remain calm. “Yes, her oldest friend.” He reminded his father. “It’s a good thing.”

David rolled his eyes, unsure whether he was more annoyed or disappointed with his son’s lack of ambition. “You know, I’m breeding Samson.” He stated placidly.

“Oh great.” He rolled his eyes, wishing for once that his father could see beyond his own ambition and actually care about the greater good. “Vega is in crisis, and you’re concentrating on the mating habits of a lion.”

“Nature calls.” David rationalized patronizingly. “We put him with a lioness in heat in the North enclosure, and you should’ve seen Samson; five-hundred pounds of raw power as he mated with his Delilah.” He stared hard at his disappointment of a son. “He knew what he wanted, and he took it. It’s what he does. It’s in his blood, as it was in his father’s before him.”

William sighed tiredly. “Good for Samson, and good for those cubs. Though surely they’ll be raised by their mother and not actually know their father.” He continued, drawing on the confidence leftover from his encounter with Gabriel. “Nature is kind once and while, isn’t it?”

✝

“Our time of darkness has ended.” William intoned, looking around at the group of masked Black Acolytes - the loyal followers of Gabriel. “Hear me, for now we step into the light; the Light of Gabriel.” He continued, raising his hands. “For it is he who has charged me to share the knowledge that at long last, the Chosen One has arrived.” A ripple of murmurs washed through the group, each more eager and excited than the last.

He motioned a young, dark-haired man forward, his tan skin bared to the flickering torchlight. “Join me as we prepare our newest member to accept the love of our Father, Gabriel; Brother Paul, please, come.” The young man came to a stop in front of him before turning his back to William and facing the congregation in their black masks as he wrapped a long golden cloth around his ribs, knotting it around the wooden dowel. “This golden thread represents Gabriel’s promise.” He twisted the dowel, tightening the cloth. “Our allegiance may be difficult and painful in its binding, but it is his mark that will save us.”

“Where one breaks…” William began as he twisted the dowel, grunting with the effort.

“One becomes strong.” The congregation responded simultaneously.

He twisted the dowel once more, listening to the whine of Brother Paul’s ribs bowing against the increasing pressure. The bones straining against the inevitable. “Where one is strong…”

“We are all strong.” The Acolytes responded.

“We are not weak!” He continued twisting, bones cracking beneath the pressure. “No! For it is this pain that makes us stronger!” William declared as he gave a final twist, smiling maniacally as Brother Paul’s ribs surrendered, the bones breaking as the young man let out an agonized scream and sank to his knees.

Claire stepped back in horror, clamping her hands over her mouth to stifle her breathing. She’d gone searching for William after finally coming to an agreement with her father, even going so far as to go to House Whele and ask David who’d informed her that his son was at the church. She’d thought it odd; even with his duties and fervent belief, there was no reason for William to be at the church nearly a full twelve hours before Services. But at the very least it would mean he would be alone, so she’d gone, waiting outside when she’d heard voices but never imagining what she’d find when she looked inside.

She tip-toed back outside the church proper, hoping to seem as though she’d just arrived and not borne witness to such unholy worship. Watching the Black Acolytes file out of what had once been her sanctuary, supporting the man who had just been initiated, Claire swallowed and steeled her nerves.

It’s for the good of her people,

She reminded herself.

She didn’t have to love him, only marry him and unite their houses.

“William?” Claire called out softly as she entered the courtyard, gown fluttering in the evening breeze, the setting sun glinting off her jewelry. “Your father said I could find you here.” She smiled beguilingly, batting her eyelashes. “Preparing for Services?”

William started before schooling his expression, hoping Claire hadn’t noticed. “Claire, what are you doing here so late?” He questioned, running a hand through his hair.

Claire gave a false laugh. “Didn’t you hear me? I was looking for you.” She murmured as she stepped closer to him, placing a delicate hand on his arm. “I made a deal with my father.” Her voice was low as she looked up at him through her lashes. “He’s going to stop detaining innocent people and draw up a basic Bill of Rights for every citizen of Vega.”

“How ever did you manage that?” He asked, chuckling softly in disbelief, unable to deny the admiration and affection he felt for her. “Your father isn’t exactly an easy man to persuade.”

“No, he isn’t.” Claire agreed and sighed softly. “I’m sorry I’ve been so horrid to you the past few days.” She apologized, swiping at forced tears. “It’s just our fathers’ announcement took me by surprise, then there was Selene, and then the whole awful business with Felicia; I haven’t really had the time to process or even think about what it all means.”

William nodded. “I understand; I’ve been feeling the same way honestly.” He toyed with a strand of her hair, swallowing his surprise at Claire allowing him the intimacy. “But we don’t have to talk about that now.”

Claire shook her head, determined to get through the moment despite the rising nausea in her gut. “But we do.” She insisted, placing her hands in his and bringing them to her lips. “You see, in order to get my father to agree to the Bill of Rights, I agreed to marry you.” Her eyes sparked with what she knew William would view as her love for him. “So, William Whele, will you do me the honor of making me a very happy woman?”

“It would be my honor.” He replied instantly as he leaned down to press a tender kiss to her lips. William knew that the marriage was political, but a part of him hoped that over time he and Claire could build a love that was lasting. The kind he imagined that his father once had for his mother.

Claire grinned into the kiss; she knew William would do anything to keep her affections - her

love

. Her father and Consul Whele weren’t the only ones that could play politics. She had her soon-to-be husband

exactly

where she wanted him

✝

Alex watched as Selene and Michael exited the dilapidated house that had once been their home. He’d found a flattened basketball, and had used the pump from the back of the jeep to fill it with air. So far, he had H-O-R in his game of HORSE against himself, which he was very glad no one had been around to witness.

Looking around the property had brought back all kinds of memories he wasn’t sure he wanted back. Jeep teaching him and Selene how to set snares to catch rabbits; making a fire from nothing as the bitter chill of a desert night settled around them, their fingers numb and fumbling for the flint and steel; curling tight around Selene as they’d slept in the back of the van, fight-or-flight senses flaring at every twig that snapped.

Both he and Selene had hated their father for dragging them out into the wilderness weekend after weekend. But now, Alex realized that he’d been preparing them for where there were now; living in a world where their father no longer existed - where each and every move could determine whether life or death followed.

He shook himself from his thoughts as his sister came up to him, wondering how she managed to look so commanding in nothing but a t-shirt and Corps uniform pants. She didn’t even have her gun, and Alex was still certain that if she’d felt so inclined she would’ve found a way to shoot him.

“Bet I can still take you.” Selene challenged, smirking in the way she knew rankled Alex.

“I’m not in the mood.” Alex pouted as he took a shot, swearing as the ball bounced off the rusted rim.

Selene chuckled as she retrieved the ball, palming it between her hands. “Yeah, well, you brought this on yourself.” She muttered, easily sinking her shot. “The only person you have to blame is you.”

Alex opened his mouth to fire back a retort as the hairs on the back of his neck prickled unsettlingly and he moved closer to Selene.

Someone or something was watching them.

“We’re not alone.” His sister murmured, eyes darting around the dilapidated house and the surrounding shrubbery, watching as Michael began backing up towards them, his eyes trained on the sky. “Look out!” Selene shouted as red blur rocketed out of the sky, slamming into Michael and sending the Archangel tumbling across the driveway.

Selene watched as Michael pushed himself to his feet, looking more irritated than injured as he faced off against the other angel - Furiad. His red armor gleamed crimson in the harsh sunlight, the cut of his helmet cutting his features down to sharp, feral angles as he snarled, armored wings flaring with a crash as he drew his sword. Michael was stoic as ever as he drew his own blades, and not for the first or even tenth time that day, Selene cursed Alex’s rashness. Alex had no idea how to fight an angel, let alone one skilled in battle, while she was weaponless and afraid of using her powers in case she hurt Michael.

Michael was alone in the fight.

Sparks flew as the angels’ blades collided, Empyrean steel clashing with an almost deafening ring. The siblings whirled as snarls sounded behind them and they turned to face three more angels advancing on them. Selene clenched her fists, lines of heat following the tattoos down her arms as Alex drew his glock.

“Get behind me.” Selene ordered, her palms tingling with a now familiar heat as golden light poured from between her clenched fingers. “

Now, Alex!

” She shouted, wanting to deal with the 8-balls in front of them so she could focus her attention on helping Michael.

When Alex didn’t budge Selene ground her teeth but opened her palms allowing the golden-white light to explode outward, slamming into the 8-balls and burning them to crisp. Her brother stumbled back, staring at her wide-eyed and she opened her mouth to snap at him, only to be cut off as Michael screamed in agony.

She whipped around, heart lurching at the sight of her Archangel with the other angel’s blade buried in Michael’s gut, blood flowing quickly from the wound as the blade was removed. Her breath choked in her lungs as she watched Michael collapse, swords falling to the ground as he placed his hands against the wound, staring at the blood coating his skin as though he didn’t believe what he was seeing.

Time seemed to slow as Furiad advanced on Michael’s fallen form, readying his blade to deliver the killing blow. “

No!”

Selene screamed, the sound echoing across the desolate landscape as she shook off Alex’s attempts to hold her back, wondering if she was the only one that could feel the ground shaking. An inarticulate wail tore past her lips and Furiad stumbled back from Michael, features twisted in pain as he grabbed his head. She let out another scream for good measure, nearly tripping over the cracks appearing in the ground as she made her way over to Michael, pressing her hands against the wound, the blood leaking over her fingers far too familiar her father’s death.

She would not watch Michael die, not now when she was capable of doing something about it. Their eyes locked, understanding passing between them as Selene placed Michael’s hands over the weeping stab wound and pressing down. “Do. Not. Die.” Selene ordered, seeing Furiad shake off whatever the hell had happened when she’d screamed, readying himself to finish them off.

Her breathing stuttered as Alex crouched next to her, the left sleeve of his jacket singed from her powers. “He’s gonna kill us.” He stated, one eye trained on Furiad who flexed his wings, the armored feathers rattling ominously.

“Not if I kill him first.” Selene growled as she picked up one of Michael’s swords, the Empyrean steel impossibly light and snatched Alex’s dagger from his boot with the other. “Stay with him.” She instructed, standing and turning to face Furiad.

The red angel chuckled, full lips twisting in an arrogant smirk. “Such defiance.” He praised mockingly. “You’ll make a pretty pet for Gabriel. After I kill the others, of course.” His wings trembled with anticipation, nausea twisting Selene’s gut at the sight of Michael’s blood dripping off Furiad’s blade, the gleaming crimson of the Empyrean steel making it seem as the though the sword itself was bleeding.

Selene flexed her hands around the blades, a type of rage she’d never felt flowing hot through her veins, amplified by the heat scorching its way down the tattoos as if they felt her anger and would have set her alight with it if they could. Michael’s sword was both a familiar and unfamiliar weight in her hand as she folded her arms in front of herself, resting the flat of the blade on the crook of her left arm and steadied her breathing.

“You want them? Come and get them.” She hissed and advanced, slashing at Furiad with single-minded determination. The red angel stumbled back, clearly not having taken her seriously, his own blade lax in his grip as he ducked and weaved, dodging her relentless attack. Finally, he brought his blade up and the two Heavenly blades met in a shower of sparks. They parried back-and-forth, steel clashing against steel as the sun continued to beat down on them until Furiad had Selene pinned against a tree, her blade braced against his crosswise as he clamped a gauntleted hand down on hers.

Furiad sneered at her, the gesture disturbingly soft with his full lips. “The mighty Chosen One.” He chuckled and pressed closer, watching a thin line of blood appear where blade cut into skin. “You’re all Gabriel can talk about; I’m failing to see what all the excitement is about.”

Selene struggled, chest heaving with exertion. “You know, there’s not usually this much talking during a fight.” She muttered, smirking as she drove Alex’s dagger into the gap between Furiad’s breastplate and thigh guards, the blade crunching against bone, shoving him off and spinning around to meet blades once more.

They danced, rotating around each other as Selene blocked Furiad’s blows with sword and dagger, drawing on all of her training and remembering the times she’d seen Michael train with her swords to give her the upper hand. A few more steps had Furiad with his arm bent behind him to block Selene from slicing into his wings. He grunted with the effort, her strength unexpected before he forced her back, knocking Selene to her knees, the edge of his blade slicing into her shoulder as she brought her own blade up to stop the blow from being fatal.

Fresh blood flowed hot from the wound, tacking the fabric of her shirt to the area around it and contrasting brightly with the stark black of the tattoos. They locked eyes, amber and glowing gold tied together in a moment of violence before Selene pushed herself up and Furiad away, ducking as he swung at her head. He swore in Enochian as her dagger sliced into the gap of his armor under his sword arm, forcing him to transfer the blade to his other arm.

She stepped back, facing him with her dagger crossed in front of her face, the flat of Michae’s sword resting atop it. It was clear, now, that he had underestimated her - the Chosen One. But Furiad couldn’t flee now. He was a warrior of Heaven - an angel blessed and armored by God - and he would not be beaten by a mortal girl.

Furiad lunged, but Selene was quicker, parrying his blow and passing both sword and dagger around her back so they were held in her right hand, the hilts parallel to each other. She slashed at the angel, cursing as he ducked, but the movement was slower than it had been, the blood loss from the wound under his arm beginning to make him sluggish. He clenched a hand around her dagger as she spun to face him, glaring at Selene as though daring her to pull back on the blade and slice him.

Selene snarled, wrenching her dagger free, slicing open Furiad’s palm and splattering the ground with blood. He roared and advanced, hacking and slicing at Selene, frustration clear in his amber eyes as she parried him blow-for-blow, Empyrean steel singing and ringing across the desert. Furiad grinned as he knocked the dagger from her grip, the weapon skidding across the cracked concrete.

Her breath came in sharp inhales, sweat slicking her skin, making her wounds sting but she pushed on, driving forward once more. Their blades locked, the sustained pressure straining them both before Selene reached across, grabbing the hilt of Furiad’s blade and releasing the tension, stumbling back with both blades in her grasp. She recovered quickly, driving Furiad back until she had him against the wall of the house that had once been her home.

She watched through eyes tinted gold as the angel sank to his knees, pleas for mercy falling from full lips but they went unheard through ringing in her ears combined with the whispering voice she’d come to recognize as the tattoos. A different kind of heat began coursing down her arms, following the path of the tattoos as it colored them gold, the white-hot light converging in her palms before ebbing over her fingers to engulf the swords in its severe brilliance.

Blood for blood, life for life.

The whispering voice hissed as Selene crossed the blades against Furiad’s neck, heart cold to his pleading amber eyes and promises to serve her faithfully if only she would let him live. “Enjoy Hell.” Selene spat and uncrossed the swords with an elegant flourish, Furiad’s severed head rolling through the dirt as blood splattered across her face.

And just like that it was over, feeling as though it had taken both an eternity and instant to kill her first

real

angel. She’d never considered 8-balls angels since they were once human.

Slowly, the ringing in her ears faded along with the whispering voice and suddenly everything was startlingly clear. Her breathing ragged to her own ears, and the taste of blood in her mouth as she licked her lips, staring at the decapitated angel in front of her. Selene’s arms trembled, the muscles exhausted as the adrenaline and rage began to fade, and she nearly dropped the swords as she made her way back to Michael and Alex.

Alex had taken off his t-shirt, leaving him in his undershirt and jacket, the balled-up fabric pressed against Michael’s stomach. The blue-gray fabric was nearly soaked through with crimson and the Archangel’s breathing was labored, as if drawing each breath were some immense effort.

“Take these and start up the jeep.” Selene ordered, picking up Michael’s other sword and handing all three blades to Alex who looked at her skeptically despite his hands being covered in Michael’s blood. “Do it, or I swear to

God

I’ll leave you here.” She growled, puzzled by the lack of satisfaction she felt as Alex scrambled to his feet, rushing over to the jeep.

Selene pressed one hand against the balled-up t-shirt slowing the flow of blood from Michael’s wound, winding the other around the Archangel’s shoulders and lifting him up. “You have to stand.” She murmured, pressing a kiss to his brow that seemed warmer than normal. “You’ll die if we stay out here. And you’re not allowed to leave me.”

Michael groaned, gritting his teeth as he forced his legs to cooperate, the limbs shaky and weak as he leaned heavily against Selene. “I’ve got you.” She grunted as she took most of his weight, half-dragging him over to the jeep and ungracefully maneuvering him into the backseat, leaving bloody handprints on the upholstery before climbing in after him.

The jeep rumbled to life as Ale turned the key, genuinely hoping that they had enough gas to make it back to Vega in time. He may not have particularly liked Michael, but he didn’t want to see what losing him would do to his sister. After all, the mess they were in had begun with him wanting to protect her.

Blood continued to flow from the wound as Selene grabbed the med kit from the floor, hastily pulling out a wad of bandages and pressing it Michael’s stomach, a soft cry twisting its way out of her chest as they quickly soaked through with blood.

“Tell me what to do.” Selene begged, unsure if she was speaking to Michael or the mystic force that was now a part of her life. “Michael, I need you to tell me what to do.” She pleaded, but the Archangel didn’t answer, his features slack in unconsciousness. “Alex,

drive

!” The words came out as a ragged sob as Alex spun the jeep around with a spray of dirt and rocks.

Miles of desolate road stretched before them as Alex risked a glance at the backseat, nausea and dread knotting in his stomach at the sheer amount of blood coating his sister’s hands and forearms, the crimson liquid still leaking freely from Michael’s wound.

Court Martial and the Brig awaited him back in Vega, but Alex shoved those thoughts from his mind as he gunned the engine, and with the same desperation with which he’d fled the city, began speeding back towards Vega, an unbidden prayer on his lips.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Messiah (n.) 2. Hope is synonymous with armor on your tongue, and all the hymns are truly warsongs. What does forgiveness mean? It means your hair dripping with spikenard ointment. It means your cheekbones aglow with firelight. It means kiss me, we are all holy and there is no reason to be afraid of what comes next. 3. You have always loved brambles, even when they tore the skin of your hands to pieces.” - Keaton St. James

Selene’s gaze darted between her bloody hands, Michael’s face and the uneven rise-and-fall of his chest. The smell of blood had never bothered her, not when she was a child on the streets of Vega surrounded by human filth nor when she’d been splattered with blood after her first battle when
many in her company had become sick. But now, with the coppery tang of Michael’s blood seared into her senses, she was sure she would hate the smell of blood in the future.
It was everywhere, crimson soaking into the seat cushions and across Michael’s clothing, tacking the fabric to his feverish skin. It grew clingy as it clotted, making Selene’s hands stick to each other as Michael’s body worked on overdrive to heal the damage.

Dried tears cut trails through Furiad’s blood splattered across her face as Alex continued to gun the engine. “How much farther?” Selene shouted desperately, fingers cramping from holding their position for so long.

“Five miles!” Alex replied urgently, grip white knuckled around the steering wheel. “Maybe less...I can see the top of the wall.” Sweat dripped into his eyes and he blinked rapidly.

Selene snarled through her teeth, renewed anger burning cold in her chest. “I swear to

God

, Alex - if he dies, I will

never

forgive you.” She invoked as she replaced the bandages pressed against Michael’s stomach, adding the old ones to the bloody pile on the floor.

Alex swallowed thickly, the truth of his sister’s words settling like lead in his stomach. He steadied his breathing, watching as Vega’s walls rose up out of the desert like the post-apocalyptic oasis that it was. Taking one hand off the steering wheel he grabbed the radio from the passenger seat. “This is Sergeant Lannon, ID number 773987. I have Commander Lannon and Michael with me; he’s injured and needs medical standing-by!” He replayed hurriedly.

“Lannon, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” The on-duty Sergeant’s voice screeched back over the radio.

Snatching the radio from her brother’s hand Selene swore violently. “This is Commander Lannon, ID 971379. The Archangel has been injured. I need Consul Thorne and her team standing-by and the gates open.” She ordered sharply. “Do as I say and I might reconsider knocking you down to a V-1.” She ignored the stuttered reply as it came over the radio, placing her hand atop the other over Michael’s wound, new blood flowing fresh as the jeep rocked over a bump, reopening the wound.

“Gates are open!” Alex yelled over his shoulder, gunning the engine even as it groaned in protest, the transmission releasing a high-pitched whine.

Selene bit the inside of her cheek and tasted blood. Her arms were starting to shake, exhaustion and adrenaline withdrawal quickly making her realize how truly drained she was. She barely registered the shadow of them passing into Vega’s wall, the acrid smell of burning rubber stinging her nostrils as Alex screeched to a halt.

Becca was the first to reach them, wrenching open the back door and meeting Selene’s wild gaze. The blonde’s pupils were constricted and her irises were shot through with gold to the point that she couldn’t tell where the gold started and her natural blue ended.

“What the hell happened?” Becca interrogated sharply as she snapped on a pair of sterile gloves and the gurney was brought up perpendicular to the jeep. “

Selene!

” She prompted when the other woman continued to stare at her.

“We--” Selene swallowed thickly. “We were attacked by an angel and a group of 8-balls,” She recounted shakily. “Michael was stabbed; it’s deep and he’s lost a lot of blood.”

Becca nodded evenly, gesturing to the nurses behind her. “Let’s get him on the gurney, then we’ll get him stabilized before we go any further.” She stated, making sure to maintain eye contact with Selene. The last thing anyone needed was her losing control because she felt Michael was being threatened.

Selene nodded jerkily, raising her hands as Becca’s team began sliding Michael out of the jeep and laying him out on the gurney, the white sheets quickly becoming soaked with red. She watched as they whisked him away, only stopping herself from following when Becca held up a hand, coupling it with that steady, reassuring look of hers.

Her gaze drifted, not really focusing on anything particular before it darted over to Alex who surprisingly hadn’t made any attempt to run but was standing by the jeep his own gaze trained on the curtained off infirmary. She gestured to the nearby Lieutenant. “Sergeant Lannon,” Alex looked over at the sound of her voice. “You are under arrest for desertion of duty, exiting the city without permit, theft of government property, the kidnapping and assault of a commanding officer, and endangering the life of the Archangel.” Selene enumerated coldly as the Lieutenant began cuffing her brother. “You will be remanded into the custody of Vega’s Detention Corps until such time that your court martial and punishment is decided. Due to the severity of your crimes, you shall be denied all visitation rights regardless of V status.”

Alex gaped at his sister, not at the charges - he’d been expecting those - but he hadn’t expected the coldness. Her callous denial of visitors - of Claire - was something he hadn’t thought Selene capable of. He winced as the Lieutenant wrenched his arms behind his back, the cuffs cold as they ratcheted shut around his wrists before nearly stumbling over his feet as they led him away.

Selene allowed her gaze to follow Alex’s back for a couple moments, the frantic bustle of Becca and her team working on stabilizing Michael fading into the background as her skin began to tingle, lines of subtle heat snaking their way down her back as they followed the tattoos inked into the planes of her back. A soft whispering tickled the back of her mind, gentle despite the same pressing urgency from earlier. Her vision tinted gold and suddenly the world in front of her shifted from Becca working on Michael against the stark white curtains of the infirmary within Vega’s walls to a dusty tent, the tang of blood sharp in the air as its red-and-gold curtains fluttered in the dry air.

A man was laid on a wooden table, blood leaking steadily from a large gash in his thigh and several matted feathers rested in the pool of blood forming on the ground.

“Brother!” She turned at the sound of Michael’s voice, watching as her Archangel swept into the tent, sweat-matted curls falling to just above his shoulders. His armor was splattered with blood, swords dripping with the liquid as he replaced them in his sword belt before pacing over to the table. “Gabriel…” Selene flinched at the name, daring to venture closer as it became evident neither angel could see her.

The sounds of war raged on outside the tent, the ring of swords clashing and horses screaming somehow seeming far away from within the relative sanctuary of the tent. Selene briefly wondered which of the countless wars Michael had fought in was the one happening outside, but she cast her curiosity aside as she came to stand opposite Michael. She watched as Michael smoothed a hand down Gabriel’s face, the now enemy Archangel whimpering in pain as he stared up at his twin.

“Brother…what happened?” Michael murmured as Gabriel moaned in pain, fresh blood pulsing from the wound. Gabriel shifted, pain whimpers slipping past his lips and Selene almost found herself feeling bad for him. Almost. “Never mind; you’re losing too much blood.” He rolled his shoulders, wings rustling into existence, the black feathers gleaming in the torch light.

Selene watched as Michael reached up and plucked a single feather from his wings, a drop of blood sliding down the shaft to mix with the blood caked onto his hands. He briefly held the tip of the feather quill over a nearby brazier and then
manipulated it so that the end of the shaft was pinched between his thumb and middle finger while using the other hand to pinch together the edges of Gabriel’s wound. Her eyes widened slightly as viscous, amber-colored oil began to drip steadily from the feather. She inhaled sharply as the oil hit the edges of Gabriel’s wound, the mutilated flesh began to knit back together, scar tissue appearing its wake as Michael continued dripping the oil down the length of the wound, the only evidence it had ever been there was the scar nearly bisecting the other Archangel’s thigh diagonally.

She watched as Michael continued to soothe Gabriel, her Archangel’s features incredibly soft despite the blood splattered across his tan skin, his dark eyes soft with a warmth that Selene had only seen directed at her. Her eyes remained trained on the scene before her even as the vision faded, the golden tint ebbing away until her eyes were clear once more and she was left staring at the curtained area where Becca was working on Michael. Selene shook her head, clearing the last vestiges of the vision from her mind before forcing her legs to take her over to Becca.

“Can you stabilize him?” Her voice was far from steady, but Selene couldn’t bring herself to care as she locked eyes with Becca over the edge of her surgical mask, the sterile, white fabric spotted with blood. “Well can you?” Selene repeated more sharply, her skin still tingling with the unearthly sensation of her powers, the energy feeling as though it was coursing just beneath her skin.

Becca nodded, a small smear of blood appearing on her cheek as she pulled her mask down. “We got blood in him which was the main concern, so he’s as stable as he’s going to be.” She stated pragmatically. “But he needs surgery, Selene. The wound could already be infected.”

Selene shook her head, raising one shaky hand to hover just over Michael’s chest. “No…” She swallowed thickly, the blood caked on her hands cracking as she flexed the digits. “I--I saw something that could save him. We need to get back to the Stratosphere.”

Becca looked at her in disbelief, protests already forming on her tongue but she held them back.
So far, Selene’s powers hadn’t failed her, so if she could save Michael without the use of precious medical supplies then Becca was willing to give it a try. “Okay…” She agreed after a few more moments before gesturing to her team. “Pack the wound and pad the area around it, we’re going to transport him to the Stratosphere.” Her gaze traveled back over to Selene, her gold-and-blue irises eerily arresting both in their determination and intensity. “I really hope you’re right about this.”

✝

Alex stumbled as the Lieutenant yanked him out the jeep, taking a minute to regain his footing before looking up at the polished building that had once been the Clark County Detention Center. The metal letters had dulled over time, but they still stood out against the dull concrete of the building. Afternoon sunlight reflected off the wall of glass making up the front entrance, officers in both AA Corps and Army uniforms coming in-and-out of the building, some leading a row of prisoners manacled to a long length of chain as they were loaded into windowless vans before departing for the courthouses.

A second lieutenant had joined the one escorting him, his tan Army uniform crisp and clean as he knelt down before fastening a set of manacles around Alex’s ankles, repeating the process with his wrists. Another length of chain went around his waist. The chain from his ankles was connected before those on his wrists were attached, preventing him front raising his hands even an inch or taking more than shuffling steps.

“Walk.” The Lieutenant that had arrested him barked, shoving him forward so roughly that he almost ate pavement. Even though he’d expected to be arrested once they were back in Vega, he still half expected to hear Selene’s voice come over the radio and say to let him off with a slap on the wrist. But both of the Lieutenants’ radios remained silent, their hands resting on the butt of their pistols as they entered the building.

Alex shivered immediately as they entered, the polished outside proving to be nothing but a facade. Inside, the Detention Center was dark, dank, and cold. Different processing lines were spread out across what used to be the lobby, while Army guards stood outside heavy, steel doors leading to the different cell blocks. He clenched his hands together, unwilling to show the slightest bit of fear as he was manhandled into a line, eyes darting left-and-right as he took in the situation.

To his right another prisoner is being shuffled into a different processing line. “Strip.” A guard barked, palming the nightstick held loosely in his hand. “Strip!” The other prisoner continued to resist as another guard came over as the two Lieutenants marched Alex over to a Possession Scanner, forcing his hand against the warm glass. “Strip! I said strip, or you go in the hole!” The other guard shouted, clubbing the prisoner in the gut before shoving him towards the first guard. “Get him the fuck out of here.” Alex watched as the prisoner was frog-marched away, the guard quickly yanking him through one of the heavy steel doors out of sight.

“Move.” The second Lieutenant barked, fingers vice-like around Alex’s upper arms as they half-marched, half-dragged him over to a caged room separate from the general processing lines.

Guess being the Commander’s brother did get him some “special treatment”.

Both Lieutenants took up posts in front of the door after removing his handcuffs. “Strip.” Alex stared him down, defiant before collapsing to the filthy floor as someone outside the cage shoved a cattle prod into his side, electricity searing across his skin.

“You heard the Lieutenant - strip!” A rough voice shouted from just outside the cell and Alex blinked to clear his vision before his gaze settled on Captain Henderson, the same V-3 soldier who’d dressed him down for taking the jeep outside the walls.

Fuck.

“Strip.” Henderson repeated, thumbing the cattle prod threateningly, electricity arcing between the metal prongs. “Or, I don’t care who your sister is, I’ll let Walker and Brookes here beat you black-and-blue.” The Army Captain chuckled darkly, eyes raking over Alex’s body. “Although, after what you did, maybe the Commander won’t mind if we rough you up a little.”

Alex bristled at Henderson’s words, hackles rising and he lunged at the smug Captain only to collapse writhing to the floor once more as Henderson casually jabbed the cattle prod into his stomach. His ears were ringing, and he barely registered the cage door opening before the cuffs snapped shut around his wrists once more. He hissed as cold steel slid down his skin, the guards’ knives making quick work of his clothes and boots until he was standing in nothing but his skivvies before shouting as ice-cold water was blasted across his skin, pressure washing him clean of the desert grime and blood.

Henderson snickered as Alex was hauled to his feet once more, the burn marks from the cattle prod bright red against his tan skin. “Now, let’s see here…” He drawled, thumbing the data pad in his hand. “Desertion of duty, exiting the city without permit, theft of government property, kidnapping and assaulting a commanding officer, and endangering the life of the Archangel. Fuck, you got something against Vega?” He narrowed his eyes when Alex remained silent. “Hey! You’ll speak when spoken to, Lannon, and I’m speaking to you.”

“Fuck you.” Alex snarled, eyes rolling up as electricity lit up his system followed by air rushing past his lips as one of the guards drove a booted foot into his diaphragm. He groaned, the wet floor slick against his cheek as the other guard's boot came to rest on his head, pressing just hard enough to remind Alex that it was there, and what the guard was capable of doing with it.

Henderson watched as Lannon’s eyes followed him as he crouched down, bracing his arms on his knees as he stared down at the pathetic form crumpled before him. “Here’s how this is gonna go, Lannon, so I suggest you listen good.” He reached through the bars and took a hold of Alex’s hair, pulling hard. “The less of a pain in the ass you are, the more food and clothing you get. Capiche?” Alex glared, heart stuttering as the guard with the boot pressed against his head shifted slightly before nodding dully. “Good boy.” The Captain stood then, motioning to the guards. “Alright, get this piece of shit outta here; orders say to toss him in solitary.”

The guards nodded and hauled Alex to his feet. He stumbled forward between them, unable to keep his footing against the slick floor with the manacles around his ankles. The air was bitterly cold against his skin, and he didn’t want to think about what was getting on his feet. Alex squinted as they entered a hallway illuminated by glaringly bright fluorescent lights and lined with cells, their doors made of blacked out reinforced security glass.

He struggled against the guards’ grip on him as they frog marched him to a cell that was roughly in the middle on the right side. The door slid open with a sterile, automated click as the lock disengaged revealing an equally sterile inside. Stainless steel furniture consisting of a latrine, a sink with a glassless mirror, a cot with no bedding tucked into the corner and a small table; all bolted to the walls and floors. A small, narrow window was placed high on the wall opposite the door parallel to the ceiling and allowed weak rays of sunlight to filter in through the dusty glass.

“Welcome home, traitor.” One of the Lieutenant’s sneered and shoved him forward, smirking as Alex fell to his knees with a sharp crack. “Chains stay on until we decide you’re not a suicide risk,” He stated. “And if you behave for the rest of the day, you might just earn yourself dinner. Enjoy.”

With that the door slid closed, the lock engaging the last clear sound Alex heard aside from his own breathing as the glass and concrete walls muffled anything from the outside leaving him trapped in stifling darkness with nothing but his own thoughts for company.

✞

Blood trailed behind them as Selene jogged beside Becca and her team as they wheeled Michael into the elevator of the Stratosphere. It plinked against the floor, a small puddle forming next to Selene’s boot, small specks doting the leather and adding to the rest splattering her body. She could feel her clothing tacking itself to her skin, the cloying stickiness refusing to let her attention stray from the situation at hand.

The ding of the elevator broke through Selene’s thoughts as the reflective metal doors opened into the darkened room and she moved forward, flicking on the lights as she went. Selene tossed the swords in her hands on the side table, the movement stretching the wound in her shoulder and fresh blood flowed to mix with that already covering her shirt.

Selene stared at her hands, the digits still tingling from earlier. She stared at the blood caked under her nails and on the cuticles; the lines of her palms clearly defined in crimson and dirt. But none of it really registered. Not the pain of the wounds to her neck and shoulder, or the blood that was probably covering the majority of her body, making Selene look like the sole survivor of one of those pre-war slasher films.

She started as Becca laid a gloved hand on her shoulder, the blood-speckled latex-clad digits unintentionally pressing into the shoulder wound. More fresh blood seeped from between the sliced-open skin to mingle with Michael’s blood on Becca’s gloves. “That looks nasty.” Becca commented softly, fingers probing the wound as the steady if rapid beep of the EKG monitor pierced the silence. She brushed aside Selene’s hair to look at the shallow wound on her neck. “What the hell happened out there?”

Selene shrugged, shaking the Consul off. “Nothing that matters right now.” She said flatly before turning and striding over to her dresser, yanking open one of the middle drawers and rifling through it. Blood smeared clothing littered the floor before she reached into the back of the drawer, nails scraping against the polished wood as Selene withdrew her hand, a single black feather held in its grasp.

“Is that--?” Becca asked with awe in her voice.

“An angel feather, yeah. Michael gave it to me.” Selene finished and stood, pacing over to the bed as she dug a lighter out of her pocket with the other hand. She stared at the medical staff as they looked over at her, eyes quizzical over the edge of their masks. “I want to make something very clear, you’re here because the Consul trusts you and I trust her, but I don’t know you. So I want to make something very clear -- if you tell or breathe so much as a word of this to anyone, you will be tried for treason and hung from the main gate for the entire city to see after which your families will be rounded up and banished.” Her eyes were hard as she stared them down. “Do I make myself clear?”

Becca’s team nodded, not an ounce of fear visible in their eyes, but rather steely determination.

Selene smiled tightly, snapping open the lighter as Becca prepared to remove the gauze packing Michael’s wound. She thumbed the spark, the flame fluttering to life and the heat warming the tips of her fingers as she held it to the tip of the feather while Becca pulled the gauze away with a wet sucking sound.

Almost immediately, blood began to stream from the wound, staining the sterile drapes that had been laid out on the bed. The sides of the wound wept open, exposing the vivid red of the muscle inside. Selene’s stomach churned, the emptiness of it making her more nauseous than if it had been full.

“Please work…” She pleaded as a golden, viscous oil began emerging from the feather’s tip and Becca pinched the edges of the wound together. “Please, please work.” Selene prayed, though to what end she wasn’t sure.

Afterall, it wasn’t as though God was around to answer the call.

The group watched with collectively apprehensive anticipation as Selene dripped the viscous, golden oil onto the wound. It bubbled slightly as it touched the raw edges before sliding down the sides, pooling in the spaces between Michael’s skin and Becca’s gloves. Selene exhaled as newly healed skin was revealed, the edges of the fresh scar puckered and pink as though it had been healed for weeks and not mere seconds.

She exhaled shakily, sending up silent thanks to whoever or whatever might be listening.

“Here...you next.” Becca murmured, shooing away her team now that Michael was no longer in danger of bleeding to death. “We need to get you cleaned up.” She insisted, ever the caregiver, as she dripped the remaining oil over Selene’s wounds.

Selene chuckled mirthlessly, exhaustion settling heavy in her limbs as the adrenaline finally began to fade. Her muscles began to tremble, hands soon following suit and she knew that standing, much less walking was out of the question. Frankly, all Selene wanted to do was lay down next to Michael and sleep for a week, bloody clothes and all.

“Come on.” Becca prompted, taking Selene by the hands and hauling the younger woman to her feet, steadying Selene by shoving a hand under thumb and pressing down with her thumb to steer her into the bathroom. “You need a shower.”

Selene hummed drowsily, the adrenaline letdown quickly sapping away whatever energy she had left. “I don’t think I can stand.” She murmured tiredly, leaning heavily against Becca.

“Well, lucky for you your shower has a bench.” Becca chuckled softly, mood much lighter now that Michael was out of immediate danger. “Let someone take care of you for a change.” She murmured as she pulled open the shower door and maneuvered them into the spacious, glass-walled stall.

Selene gave a tired laugh, watching through hooded eyes as Becca knelt down to unlace her boots, removing the steel-toed footwear. She wrinkled her nose at the smell, an adorable furrow appearing between the older woman’s brows and Selene giggled, inhibitions clearly lowered in her exhaustion.

“You’re so lucky I love you.” Becca muttered, glancing up at Selene through her lashes and catching the younger woman staring back at her with something akin to hunger in her cerulean eyes, the irises and pupils still encircled with a distinct ring of gold. “So, are you really going to court martial Alex?” She asked, clearing her throat as she moved onto Selene’s pants, dried blood flaking off onto her hands as she undid the snaps and pulled down the stiff fabric.

The blood had soaked through, tinting Selene’s normally tan skin a rusty pink. She glanced through the door into the bedroom, eyes quickly scanning the monitors to ensure all was well before tapping at the shower’s touch screen to get the hot water flowing. Steam quickly began to fill the room, while the size of the shower allowed them to avoid the spray as Becca worked Selene out of her shirt and socks, leaving the blonde in her undergarments.

“Hey, stay awake.” Becca prompted, tapping Selene sharply on the cheek. “I really don’t want to have to explain how I ended up with the Chosen One naked and her skull cracked open.”

Selene chuckled breathily, eyes taking on a heat Becca knew wouldn’t normally be there if the younger woman wasn’t half-drunk with exhaustion. “Consul, if you wanted me naked, all you had to do was ask.” She quipped lazily, smirking as Becca flushed and switched the flow over to the handheld wand.

Pink water swirled down the drain along with dried flakes and small clots. Selene hummed as the warm water washed over her tired limbs, muscles that had been tensed and coiled for hours finally beginning to relax. A warm tingling that had nothing to do with the water or the Consul in front of her began spreading across her body as the tattoos began reappearing, the filigree-like black lines standing out stark as Becca removed more and more blood from Selene’s tan skin.

“They feel safe.” She murmured lowly as she watched Becca swallow hesitantly at the sight of the tattoos. “Besides, I could never hurt you.”

“They feel safe?” Becca echoed, raising an eyebrow at Selene and she was frankly surprised that the other woman was able to carry any form of conversation, even as she tried not to think about the sheer amount of Michael’s blood that was coming off Selene’s body.

Selene nodded subduedly, smirking as Becca nudged her thighs apart, and Becca had never been so glad for her ability to be professionally detached. “They know you’d protect us...like you always have.” She breathed, closing her eyes as Becca started on her hair, the warm water quickly lulling her into a stupor.

Becca snorted softly. “Okay, I seriously need you to stay awake.” She insisted, but Selene wasn’t listening, the blonde literally dozing against the shower wall and Becca sighed. “You asked for it.” Reaching over she turned the water temperature down until it sprayed cold against her hand before turning it on Selene.

Selene spluttered awake as freezing water suddenly splashed over her, the spray like tiny knives against her skin as she swatted at Becca who simply dodged and continued soaking her. “Okay, okay, okay! I’m awake! Jesus!” She shouted, sticking her tongue out indignantly as Becca laughed and switched the water back over to warm.

“Good of you to join us.” She quipped as Selene glared at her, but there was no heat behind it, only bone-deep exhaustion. "I know you're tired," Becca sympathized. "But we need to finish cleaning you up and get Michael situated, then I promise I'll make sure you can sleep as long as you want."

Selene nodded sedately, helping Becca finish washing Michael's blood from her body, opting to only rinse her hair before standing on shaky legs to towel off. She slipped on the simple pants and t-shirt Becca tossed her, tears stinging the backs of her eyes as she registered Michael's scent and inhaled deeply.

Her muscles ached as she helped Becca lift Michael just enough to pull the soiled surgical drapes from beneath him, tossing them along with the bloodied clothing from Selene's dresser into the pile that would later be sent to the laundry room in House Riesen.

Picking up one of Michael's hands Selene sat cross-legged on the bed and pressed her lips to his skin, watching as his eyes moved beneath closed lids. "He's going to be okay, right?" She asked, staring at Becca intently as the Consul hooked her Archangel up to a bag of his own blood.

"He should be awake by tomorrow night at the latest." Becca replied as she did a final once-over of the monitors. "He's been through a lot, even for him." She reached out, brushing the backs of her knuckles against Selene's cheek. "Try not to worry too much."

"I'll try." Selene said softly, but still didn't lay down despite how truly exhausted she was, gaze darting to the bedroom doors then back to Michael. "Someone has to keep the watch." She muttered distractedly.

Becca laid a hand on her shoulder. "Noma radioed while you were dressing; she and Ethan are stationed right outside the doors, and there's a rotating patrol on the ground." She enunciated, making sure to look Selene in the eye. "I'm also going to stay awake tonight. No one is getting in here without us knowing...

I promise

." Her gaze was firm as she stared at Selene, smiling softly when the other woman nodded.

"Okay…" Selene breathed and shifted to lay down next to Michael, pressing herself flush against his uninjured side before resting a hand over his heart, the steady beat combined with sheer exhaustion quickly lulling her to sleep.

Becca rested back against one of the canopy posts, a pillow behind her as she watched over the sleeping couple. Nothing would hurt them so long as she was there, and even if something happened, it would be over her dead body. Grabbing her notebook from her medical bag she began listing all the things she still needed to tell Selene and Michael, the scratch of pen a odd harmony to the beeping of the monitors.

Outside, perched on the balcony railing like some Gothic gargoyle, unbeknownst and unseen to those within, a winged figure watched. It stared at the girl nestled against the Archangel's side and cocked its head softly before lifting off on soundless wings, flying off into the night.

There was much for it to consider...

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Angel (n.) 1. They are perfect beings, eyes as black as night, haloes ringed with gold. Whispers of a higher purpose, of saving the humans from sin. You see with a careless glint in their eyes, those swords of heaven are rusted and tunics shorn. You see the way people fall to their knees, desperate voices singing hallelujah. An empty voice, Hallelujah.”

- Keaton St. James

The winged figure flew over Vega, taking advantage of the warm desert air to ride the updrafts and sail high above the reach of Vega’s military scanners. They smiled ruefully as it glided over the wall, shaking its head at the little soldiers patrolling with their little guns slung over their soldiers. Sometimes they wondered if the humans realized the irony in building one of their foremost strongholds in what had once been a city of inequity.

They winged their way towards the dilapidated Sahara Hotel where they had taken up residence, alighting on the balcony of their suite and stepping through the dusty, glass doors. They’d chosen the Sahara for its towers, especially the Alexandria Tower that offered them unobstructed views of their surroundings. They also liked the Versaille-esque decor suited their bourgeoisie sense of taste perfectly. It reminded them of the time they’d spent in Versaille at the Court of Louis XIV as Marie Antoinette’s lover. In fact, the portrait of the woman on the wall behind the bed was an uncanny resemblance to their once lover.

They stripped off their armor, laying their double-bladed sword down on the divan at the foot of the bed and shook out their blonde hair. Their right hand drifted to the butt of their dagger, deceptively delicate fingers wrapping around the leather-studded handle as the back of their neck prickled, an unseen gaze heavy on their nape.

“I was never one for your games, Gabriel.” They intoned evenly, still keeping their back to the door as though the presence of the fallen Archangel wasn’t of import. “Come out of the shadows if you wish to speak to me. I’m not in the mood to chase you about.”

“Ooh, I see you’re as charming as ever, dear sister.” Gabriel drawled as he sauntered in off the balcony, Empyrean steel breastplate shining silver in the moonlight. “Tell me, what’s brought you down from the lofty perch of Evelyn’s bed?” He chuckled and smirked. “Bored of being a bed-warmer, are you?”

Uriel growled, turning in a flash and driving her dagger towards Gabriel’s chest, sparks flying as the other Archangel raised his sword, catching the smaller blade against the crossguard. She growled under her breath, fist clenching around the dagger’s hilt, only barely resisting pressing forward and driving her dagger into Gabriel’s chest; wondering whether the blade would pierce flesh or hit bone, offering proof that her brother was truly heartless. “That’s not what you came here to discuss.” She snapped and stepped back, twirling the danger around her hand before sheathing it. “My patience isn’t what it used to be, brother. So, I suggest you get to the point.”

Gabriel chuckled, sheathing his own blade and leaned back against Uriel’s vanity, his typical cocksure smirk tilting his lips as he regarded her. His wings rolled and flexed from their hidden place as he studied her, gaze running over the white feathers adorning her wings, the moonlight highlighting their iridescent sheen.

So, his little sister had found her soulmate?

He could admit to himself at being envious - at desiring a connection like the one Uriel had found - but Gabriel would never admit that aloud. “No, sister…” He said at last, sauntering forward. “What I came here to discuss is someone we both have in common.”

“Michael?”

“Yes, Michael...our dear brother.” He smirked, folding his arms across his chest. “I know you’ve been watching him and his little bed-warmer for some time.” His gaze was sharp and assessing. “If we were to separate them, then we’d be able to put an end to this war once and for all.”

Uriel frowned, the corners of her mouth tightening. “An end?” She echoed curiously, dark gray eyes studying her wayward brother scrupulously. “Michael will never stop in his mission to defend man and bring about the destiny of the Chosen One.” Her wings tensed as Gabriel grinned widely, canines gleaming in the moonlight. “Gabriel...what do you have planned?”

Gabriel laughed lowly, dark eyes gleaming with unsaid plans. “You know what I have planned, sister.” He taunted, sauntering forward until he was well into Uriel’s personal space. “Do you remember The Flood? How we banded together against Michael? Under Father’s orders, of course, but that’s beside the point.” His wings rustled into existence, the inky black feathers reflecting like an oil slick. “Think about it; Michael was no match for us then, and he’d be no match for us now.”

She stared back at her brother, unease settling heavy in her stomach as she thought back to the events Gabriel spoke of. Despite the cool night air, sweat trickled down her spine, the desert heat of that fateful day both a distant memory and feeling as though it had happened yesterday. Uriel could remember the adrenaline of battle singing through her veins as she and Gabriel engaged Michael in battle. There nothing that could compare to seeing Michael in battle; the gleam of his blades and the splatter of blood shining crimson across the Empyrean steel of his armor.

But she could also remember how viciously she and Gabriel had beaten him. Uriel could remember her stomach twisting at the snap of Michael’s wing as Gabriel crushed it underfoot, the feathers scattered across the burning sand, and the coppery taste of her brother’s blood as it sprayed through the air. However, the one thing Uriel remembered more distinctly then anything was the guilt that had nearly consumed her alive afterwards. The guilt at leaving her brother for dead, beaten, bleeding, and broken, and all consuming relief she’d felt when that child had taken Michael in.

No, she could not - would not - do that to her brother again. Licking her lips, she returned her attention to Gabriel. “Will you allow me to think on it, brother?” Uriel questioned, allowing her usual wry smile to cross her features. “There are other things for me to consider, after all.”

Gabriel chuckled, knowing that his sister was simply making her excuses. It may have been years, but he knew that people’s personalities hardly changed; and Uriel had always been one to consider the benefits of both sides of any option presented to her. “I’ll give you two days, dear sister.” He agreed, reaching up to cup her cheek despite Uriel tensing. “After that, you will either have sworn your sword to me or you will have betrayed me.”

✝

Selene started awake, releasing a choked off scream as her muscles violently protested the sudden movement.. Everything hurt. Her muscles were stiff and impossibly sore, the pain layered on top of the lingering throbbing from her earlier injuries. She jumped as someone laid a hand on her shoulder, instinctively reaching for the glock that was usually under her pillow only for her fingers to close around nothing.

“Hey! Easy...easy!” Becca soothed urgently, pressing a hand down on Selene’s shoulder, easing her back against the pillows, her face coming into view as she leaned over Selene. “Easy now...just breathe...breathe.” She instructed, inhaling and exhaling exaggeratedly, continuing until Selene’s breathing evened out and the tension left her body. “You good?”

“I’m good.” Selene replied after several moments, heartbeat quieting until it was no longer drumming a staccato in her ears. “I’m good, Becca.” She repeated as the Consul continued to stare down at her, a worried crease between her delicate eyebrows.

Becca raised an eyebrow, looking unconvinced but sat back all the same, scooting over so that Selene could sit up properly and drag her fingers through her hair. Her gaze immediately drifted to Michael who was still asleep, a light sheen of sweat on his brow.

She sighed heavily, body aching from the beatings it had taken over the past several days. “How long was I out?”

“About a day-and-a-half.”

Selene gaped at her, eyes wide. “A day-and-a-half? Jesus!” She looked over at Becca, gaze critical now that she was fully awake. “Becca...what aren’t you telling me?”

“It’s Michael.” Becca stated plainly, dragging a hand through her own red locks. “I--He--It looks like his wounds became infected sometime between him being injured and you getting back,” She explained, smoothing a hand down Selene’s arm in comfort. “And, when we healed him, we sealed the infection inside.

“Infection?” She echoed, staring at Becca, part of her unwilling to believe what she was hearing, but the other part of her knew it was true. “How bad?” Selene asked as she turned towards Michael’s prone form, resting the back of her hand against his forehead and wincing at the heat radiating off it. Her gaze traveled down his body to the scar of Furiad’s wound, the edges still clean even as an unnatural redness bloomed outward from it. “Oh God…”

Becca could sense the panic bubbling up inside Selene, her instinct to shield the girl who had once been her ward flaring aggressively as she forced Selene to face her, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into her upper arms. “He’s going to be okay, Selene.” She assured the younger woman, stroking a hand down Selene’s cheek. “He’s young and healthy and strong; and he’s fighting. He’s going to pull through this. I promise.” Her smile was hopeful even as it highlighted the shadows beneath her eyes. “After all, he has you to fight for.”

Selene gave Becca a watery smile, chest loosening as her panic subsided and her breathing evened out. “You’re right.” She breathed, pushing a hand through her hair before tying it back with the elastic Becca handed her. “Besides, you’re taking care of him...so I really don’t have anything to worry about.”

She turned back towards Michael, gaze tender as she stared down at him, her own soft frown mirroring the furrow between the Archangel’s brows. Pursing her lips slightly she reached out to stroke a hand down his cheek, frown deeping as he flinched, a distressed whimper slipping past his lips.

“No…” Michael mumbled, features becoming distressed as he turned away from her caress. “No...Gabriel...

please

…” He begged, and Selene’s stomach sunk as the realization of the events Michael was reliving became apparent, her heart clenching as she stroked a thumb over his cheek only for Michael to flinch back, moaning. “

Brother,

please...

please…"

Selene glanced at Becca, the corners of her mouth tight with worry as she took Michael’s hand between hers, pressing a kiss to the backs of his knuckles, the realization that all they could do was wait heavy in the air.

✝

Michael flinched back as Gabriel stroked a hand down his cheek, fingers slick with his blood as the Archangel’s twin smiled down sanguinely, dark eyes gleaming with affectionate malice. “Gabriel...please…” He begged, voice ragged and tremulous, muscles tensing as Gabriel leaned in closer, but his body was too beaten and tired to actually move. “Brother, please…”

“Brother?” Gabriel echoed, a dark chuckle leaving his lips as he stared down at the beaten form of his twin. “An interesting word to use wouldn’t you say given your actions over the past several years.” He stepped forward, boots crunching on the coarse dirt as his foot came to rest over one of Michael’s outstretched wings. “Just be glad I left you outside your precious city.” With that, he pressed down, grinning sadistically as Michael’s wing gave a sickening snap and the other Archangel cried out in pain. “A little something to remember me by, dear brother. Until we meet again that is.”

Tears leaked out along Michael’s lashes, burning tracks along his temples before disappearing into his hair as he fought to control his breathing. He stared up at the desert sky; at the streaks of pink, purple and orange signaling sunset as his right wing continued to throb in time with his heartbeat. Slowly, he pushed himself into a seated position, beaten body protesting the movement and sending fresh blood trickling out of the multiple open wounds maring his flesh.

Why hadn’t Gabriel simply killed him? It was the easiest way to bring about the result his brother wanted. Had Gabriel killed him, it would’ve left what was left of the human race defenseless; easy pickings for his extermination war.

Fire lanced across his ribs as he got his knees under him, taking slow steadying breaths to brace himself as he rolled his shoulders, forcing his wings to retract. The pain sent him doubling over, forehead pressed against the hot ground as the dislocated joint scraped against the socket it should have been inside of, broken ulna and radius crunching together as the wing finished closing and vanished from view.

“I wish I knew what your plan was, Father…” Michael breathed as he watched the sunset deepen, its hues bleeding across the sky. “Are you even out there? Can you hear me?” He questioned and sighed heavily, wrapping a supportive arm around his ribs as he turned his gaze towards Vega.

Its protective wall shone with light save for the section in front of him; that section was only part-way done, meaning its sensors were not yet active, and it explained why they hadn’t been alerted to Gabriel and his presence. He licked his lips, tongue catching on the dry, cracked skin as he limped his way over to the wall, staring up at the half-completed section. Flexing his back muscles, he brought his two smaller pairs of wings into existence. They weren’t strong enough to carry him far, but it would be enough to get him up and over the wall without being detected.

“Here goes nothing.” Michael muttered as he pushed off from the ground, tasting blood as he bit his cheek to stifle a scream, boots scraping against the rebar as he brushed past the half-finished wall. He was still almost six feet from the ground when his wings finally gave out, the muscles exhausted as he let himself fall the rest of the way to the ground.

Michael landed with a harsh thud, broken ribs screaming with pain as he rolled over and curled into the fetal position, fresh tears streaming down his cheeks, cutting hot rivulets through the tacky blood staining his skin. He lay there for several minutes, listening to the sounds of Vega’s nightlife; the din of the open air market that never closed, voices carrying on the wind serving as an undercurrent to the rough growl of military jeep engines as the Army patrolled the streets.

He wondered briefly as to why no one had stopped to if not check on him, then to at least wonder as to why there was a man lying bleeding in the street. But as he blinked to clear his vision, lashes still thick with tears, he took in the red lights strung between the ramshackle buildings and shacks lining the street he had landed in, Michael realized he had fallen into the Red Light District. Groaning, he forced his knees under him and slowly pushed himself to his feet, leaving a bloody smear on a light post as he stumbled forward.

It shouldn’t have surprised him that no one paid him any mind, though for some reason the disregard of the various prostitutes, drunks, and the alarming number of children and young people that passed him by reminded Michael all too deeply of the casual disregard his brother now had for him. He let out a cut-off scream as someone collided with him, bruised stomach spasming as he wrapped his arms around himself, half-collapsing against a nearby shack, the wood splintering slightly beneath his weight.

“Oof!” Michael looked down at the young girl that had collided with him, dark hair falling into her face as she stared up at him, eyes wide as she stared up at him with her mouth slightly agape. “Arc--Archangel…?” She breathed reverently and stood hurriedly, dusting herself off. “Umm...you don’t look so good. Do you need help?” Her words were hesitant, as though she were uncertain of his reaction - which, given everything he’d been through - was a fair concern to have. “I-- Umm-- Oh geez, get inside.”

She reached for him, frowning as he flinched away and her heart clenched at the way the Archangel unconsciously lifted his arms in defense. “I’m not...I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.” Her voice was gentle, as though she was speaking to an injured, scared animal. “I’m Jeep’s daughter.” That seemed to get his attention as he stared at her in disbelief, and she used the distraction to take him by the hand and guide him into the shack.

“Se--Selene?” Michael questioned, staring at the dark haired girl who gestured at him to sit down on the cot tucked into the corner. The mattress was thin and dirty, the thin blankets haphazardly tossed on top in a similar state, but he sat all the same and a pained breath hissed out from between his clenched teeth.

The girl turned to him, blue eyes luminous in the low lighting as she moved to the small fire pit that had been dug in the center of the room and took out a lighter, the flame catching quickly on the wood. The difference was immediate as Michael was able to observe her in detail. Her features were delicate yet angular, with high cheekbones and a gently sloping nose; a strong jaw was offset by her full lips and gentle eyes as she watched him catalogue her features. He could tell from her eyebrows and lashes that her dark hair was dyed, but the reason for it was unclear. And she was skinny, far too skinny for a girl her age, her limbs thin and he could just make out the shadow of her ribs underneath her shirt.

“That’s my name.” She said at last and walked over to him carrying a couple sticks, a few lengths of material that appeared to have once been scarves, and a bowl of water and a washcloth. “Alex should be back soon if that’s what you’re wondering. He knows better than to stay out when it’s late.” Her voice was still soft, as though a sound just a decibel too loud would send him running. She set the items down on the side table beside the cot. “So, what are we dealing with?”

Michael blinked, the question taking a moment to register. “Dealing with?” He echoed and looked up only to find Selene staring back at him expectantly, hands braced on her hips. “I don’t-- Selene, I don’t expect you to expend your resources on me.”

Selene rolled her eyes, the gesture an impressive impersonation of her mother. “It’s not a request. I’m helping you, and that’s that.” She sighed and soaked the washcloth in the bowl, wringing it out and taking a hold of Michael’s chin before he had a chance to move. “Look, I’m not doing this because you’re Jeep’s friend.” Her voice hardened around her father’s name and the Archangel frowned. “I’m doing this because you’re hurt and deserve to be helped. You’re a good person; I’m not scared of you, and besides, the Bible says we’re supposed to help those in need. You know...Parable of the Good Samaritan and all that.”

“Well...if you really want to know…” He began, finding himself unable to argue with his Father’s word or frankly with the stern look Selene was giving him. Since when were children so intimidating? “You can’t do much about the bruises and broken ribs and cuts; those will have to heal on their own. But you can help me with my wing and my face, and perhaps my hands as well.”

His heart warmed as she smiled, seeming satisfied with his rationale and placed the washcloth in the bowl. “How bad is your wing?” She asked, frankly a bit amazed that Michael was still able to carry a coherent conversation with her despite the haze of pain in his eyes.

“Mmm...broken and dislocated.”

“Ouch.”

“Hmmm...quite.” Michael chuckled tiredly before gritting his teeth as he forced all six of his wings into existence, the pain nauseating and threatening to send him under as his vision doubled, agony flaring hot across his entire body. He reached out, meaning to grab the cot frame but finding warm flesh instead as Selene allowed him to wrap his hand around her forearm, fingers digging into the soft, lean muscle.

Selene grimaced at Michael’s grip, knowing there would be a bruise there tomorrow, but it would be easy to blame it on one of her customers. Years on the streets of the seediest part of Vega’s V-1 District had failed to harden her heart in the way it had for most, and a sharp pang lanced through her chest at witnessing Michael’s suffering. “You know people still think you live in the Strat. They think you’re up there, watching over all of us; some think you secretly rule the city, while a few think that you’re just a myth the Senate made up to give us hope.” She rambled, hoping to distract him. “If only they knew what I know.”

Michael forced a small laugh at that as he released his grip on Selene’s arm, already blaming himself for the livid bruising she would bear. “It’s the big right one.” He indicated in lieu of commenting on her statements, exhaustion beginning to wash over him now that his body and mind knew they were safe for the time being.

“On three, then?”

“On three.”

She nodded and took a hold of the wing, stomach turning at the grinding crunch of his broken radius and ulna. “Ready?” Michael nodded sharply. “One...two…” Quickly, she rotated the wing away from Michael’s body before bringing it back all the way across his chest, the loud pop of his shoulder snapping back into place making them both jump even as the Archangel cursed in a language she didn’t recognize. “Better?”

The Archangel nodded, not trusting his voice as pain radiated in pulses from his shoulder, and he ground his teeth as Selene gently but efficiently splinted the broken part of his wing before guiding the limb as close to his body as possible. Her jaw was clenched as she retrieved the washcloth and moved to stand in front of him fully.

“I’m not much for opening up to people I just met and barely know, so I get it if you don’t want to talk about how this all happened or who did it to you.” She prefaced as she began wiping the dried blood from his face in gentle swipes, rinsing off the cloth every now-and-then. “But, I’m gonna take a wild guess and say it was Gabriel and that it’s been going on for almost two years which was when the rumors that you had abandoned us began floating around.”

“You are incredibly observant.” He stated matter-of-factly, the lessening pain and clarity provided by the cool washcloth finally allowing him to fully take in Selene and Alex’s situation.

What were they doing living in a rundown shack on the edge of the Red Light District? Why were they not in one of the hotels as was their right as children of one of the city’s Founders? Where was Jeep? What had happened to his and Jeep’s plan to keep the children safe and hidden?

“I can hear you thinking.”

“How can you--?”

Selene laughed softly, the sound at odds with the shadows beneath eyes that were older than they should have been, the slight downturn of her mouth speaking of difficult days and time spent worrying. “Not literally, Michael.” She picked up his hands one at a time and washed the blood from them, making sure to be careful around the split skin over his knuckles. “It’s not like I’m the Chosen One or something.” Her gaze flicked over to his. “To answer your question, Jeep split when Alex and I were seven; left some bullshit note about how we were ‘orphans now’ and to ‘take care of each other’. Like, no shit, what was I gonna do - let my brother starve - but we’ve been on our own ever since.”

He swallowed, guilt and anger rising up in his chest like bile as he fought to control his emotions. “How…” Michael cleared his throat, watching as she set about cleaning up. “How old are you Selene?”

“Twelve.”

Twelve? Michael repeated mentally in disbelief, temper flaring as he cursed his own shortsightedness; at how he had missed the inevitability of something like this happening, what with Jeep becoming more and more unstable the more desperate he became in trying to decipher the tattoos. But twelve-years-old? That meant Selene and Alex had been alone on the streets fending for themselves for five years. Years that he had spent chasing after his brother in hopes of getting Gabriel to surrender, only to end up his prisoner and plaything for the past two.

Fingers stroking through his feathers brought him back to the present with a jolt, the heavenly sensation threatening to make him purr as he watched Selene continue combing her fingers through the feathers of his damaged wing. Michael honestly couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched him with kindness or gentleness; yet here was Jeep’s daughter offering it up freely to a man she would have scorned if she knew the full extent of his fault for her and her brother’s situation.

He was supposed to have kept an eye on them; supposed to have kept them safe. Damn him and his weakness!

“Hey!” Selene shook Michael gently, careful to avoid his injured shoulder. “Hey, look, listen to me.” She said firmly and inhaled sharply as the Archangel’s dark, almost mournful eyes snapped over to her. “Whatever it is you’re thinking - stop. You are not responsible for Jeep’s actions. He chose to abandon us, not you.” Her tone left little room for argument, and Michael didn’t even get the chance as he found himself being pushed down against the cot, one of the thin blankets being drawn over him as the fire continued to crackle away. “Do yourself a favor and put that mental energy into focusing on healing.”

Michael sighed, exhaustion a heavy weight over his body as his eyelids began to droop even as he fought the siren song of sleep. Instead, he watched as Selene sat in the space beside his feet, wrapping one of the blankets around her shoulders before leaning back against the wall. “Go to sleep, Michael.” She ordered, blue eyes reflecting gold in the firelight. “You’re safe.”

Safe. A word Michael had not associated with himself in some time. But at that moment, he found himself unable to resist, resolve weakening further as Selene began stroking her fingers down the feathers within her reach. Slowly, his eyes closed and he allowed himself to succumb to the darkness of sleep for the first time in weeks.

✝

Selene inhaled sharply, fingers clenching around Michael’s hand as she pressed her lips to his knuckles, the golden tint she had come to associate with a tattoo-related vision fading away. She looked down at her Archangel; at the sweat beading across his brow, and the fever flush spotting high on his cheeks.

Looking over to Becca, Selene sighed heavily. “He’s dreaming about our first meeting.” She explained simply, a small smile quirking her lips before it fell. “Can you stay here a while longer?”

“I’m staying here until he’s awake and better, and not a second less.”

“Thanks.” Selene murmured, offering Becca a soft smile even as fresh irritation at her brother began stirring to life in her chest. All of it - everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours was Alex’s fault - and Michael’s dream only served as fresh kindling for her anger. Michael had protected them from Gabriel and been tortured as a result, and now it was all too clear that he still carried the guilt for Jeep abandoning them; the guilt of then finding out that their father was alive, but being sworn to secrecy by his longtime friend.

How could she blame him for going along with her father’s wishes? How could she blame him for wanting to hang on to the one man whose loyalty and friendship he’d never had to question? The one man who had vouched for him before the newly formed Senate, and swore on the grave of his dead wife - her and Alex’s mother - that Michael would protect Vega at all costs?

How Alex could ignore all of that and treat Michael the way he had been for the past several years was beyond her. And now, knowing that Michael continued to carry around the guilt for them ending up on the streets, and Selene being forced to prostitute herself for food, only served to further kindle her growing ire with her brother.

Selene sighed heavily and made her way off the bed, quickly finding and pulling on a clean uniform followed by her distinctive jacket. “I need to go talk to Alex.” She stated flatly, keeping her temper on a tight leash for now as she laced up her boots and scraped her hair up into a ponytail. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

“...Okay…” Becca answered, frowning confusedly as she watched Selene disappear out the double doors, the soft ping of the elevator marking her exit soon after.

✝

Selene breathed deeply as she stepped out into the sunlight, tilting her face up to bathe in the intense warmth and basking in it despite the sweat that began to prickle across her skin. She scrubbed a hand down her face, rubbing at her eyes to clear the last remnants of sleep before making her way over to her truck and climbing in.

The steady rumble of the engine helped steady her nerves as she made her way through Vega’s bustling streets towards the Detention Center, its angular architecture standing out amongst the single-story, low-slung buildings and homes making up the majority of Vega’s architecture. Her steps were measured, almost clipped as she exited her truck and made her way inside the Detention Center, the change in temperature sending a chill all down her body.

“Commander?” Captain Henderson questioned as he approached Selene, muscles flexing as he crossed his arms over his chest. “How can Vega’s Detention Corps be of service today?”

Selene glared at the Captain, fresh irritation rising at the cocky smirk he threw her way. “Cut the crap, Henderson; you know exactly why I’m here.” She stared him down, enjoying watching him squirm before backing down and turning to walk her over to the access doors, punching in the code. “Go back to your post.” Her voice was even and low, tone leaving no room for argument.

Henderson grimaced, lips twitching it what was clearly a desire to smirk. “Yes, ma’am.” He saluted hurriedly before plodding back over to his office.

“Typical Grunt…” She muttered under her breath as she entered the brightly lit hallway, blinking rapidly as her eyes adjusted and her feet began carrying her down towards Alex’s cell. The palm scanner was warm as she lay her hand against it, shoulders hitching slightly as the locks disengaged and the blacked-out security glass door began sliding open to reveal her brother sitting on the cot in the corner of the cell, back pressed against the wall with his knees tucked against his chest. “Alex.”

Alex’s gaze jerked up, snapping over to where his sister was silhouetted in the doorway, hands clasped in front of her as she stared at him with that cool, even gaze of hers. “Selene…?” He breathed, shackles clanking together as he shifted forward on the cot, goosebumps flaring out across his skin at her lack of expression or reaction. “You here to get me out?”

Selene snorted and scoffed, shaking her head. “I’m not here

for

you, Alex. I’m here

because

of you.”

“Because of me?”

“Yes; and don’t play dumb with me. Because of

you

, Michael is fighting an infection because he was stabbed protecting me from Furiad who never would’ve had the chance to attack us had we been here - in Vega - not tilting at windmills out in the God forsaken desert.” Her teeth snapped together around the last word, upper lip curling as her temper flared. “He could

die

, you know.” She stepped forward, a dark part of enjoying the way Alex shuffled backwards on the cot. “And if he does - God help me - I will punish you to the fullest extent possible.”

Alex swallowed thickly, heart beating heavily in his chest as he continued staring at his sister. He’d never been afraid of Selene before, but he was in that moment. There was something dark and dangerous in her eyes; a promise that his sister would follow through on her words and it chilled him to the core. “Selene…” He licked his lips, the chapped skin rough. “I never thought-- I didn’t think--”

“That’s the point, Alex!” Selene exploded, voice ringing through the room and echoing down the corridor. “That is precisely the fucking point, Alex; you

never

think about anyone or anything but

yourself

and what

you

want. To hell with the consequences or anyone else.” She clasped her hands together, bringing them up and pressing the backs of her thumb knuckles into her forehead. “Look, I didn’t come here to listen to you make excuses or to hear you try and rationalize your way out of whatever punishment is coming.”

She shifted in place and tucked her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “I

love

you, Alex, and that is never going to change. But, I am

done

with your crap. I am done with you getting into trouble and forcing Michael to whip me bloody just to see if maybe this time we can get it through your thick head that your actions have consequences that affect others.” Selene’s voice was steady and ice cold, the words clipped and succinct. “And since that clearly no longer works, well, it’s time for you to grow the fuck up. I also have a tidbit for you; court martials are for the determination of guilt, and well...since we already know you’re guilty I’m taking it upon myself as your superior officer to permanently take you off V-5 and above security, knock you down to Private and assign you to the Mess Hall.”

Alex stared at her, eyes wide and mouth agape. “What? You...you can’t?” He insisted incredulously, shackles rattling loudly as he jumped up, temper flaring when Selene didn’t so much as flinch.

“I can and I will.” Selene snapped, blue eyes sparking with barely contained rage. “The first thing I’m doing when I leave here is going back to my office and putting the paperwork through.” She stepped forward, crowding Alex back towards the cot, enjoying the site of the goosebumps blossoming across his skin. “You’re going to be made an example of, Alex; a reminder to the rest of the Corps about what happens when you lack discipline and flaunt the rules. So I suggest you pray that Michael makes a full recovery, or that example just might become a potentially fatal one.”

With that, Selene shoved her brother back, watching with cold detachment as he collapsed back onto the cot, genuine fear in his eyes as he stared up at her. His gaze followed her as she exited the cell, the muted click of the locks engaging like a gunshot, the sound echoing around the desolate confines of his cell.

✝

Selene sighed as she stepped into the Archangel Corps building, feet heavy as they carried her up the stairs to her office above the main training courtyard. She nodded to the group of Corporals practicing hand-to-hand before turning to face her office door, the gunmetal gray door looming before her like some sort of spectre as she punched in her access code and pressed her palm against the scanner, ducking inside once the door clicked open.

Bright sunlight streamed in through the window and skylight, illuminating the dark blue-gray walls. Two, large built-in bookshelves lined the wall opposite her L-shaped desk, the oak-topped structure a gift from General Riesen upon her promotion. The gold-plated drinks cart with fine-cut, crystal decanters having come from David Whele. An exquisitely crafted carpet bearing the seal of the Archangel Corps dominated the floor in front of her desk as she shut the door, leaning heavily against the wood.

Dealing with disciplining her brother never failed to leave her feeling drained, her emotions ran ragged and she sighed heavily as she went to sit behind her desk and pulled up the appropriate paperwork. An odd sense of detachment settled over her as she filled out the forms, typing Alex’s name where necessary and listing the various infractions and explanations required to authorize the demotion and reassignment. Selene’s fingers hovered over the keys as the realization that she’d have to strip her brother of his AA wings that Sergeants and above wore proudly on their uniforms.

“I really hope this makes a difference.” Selene murmured to herself as she used the pen and digital pad to sign the paperwork with a flourish, watching as the progress bar loaded and finished. Leaning back in her chair she pulled her hair free of its ponytail and groaned, scrubbing her hands down her face. Despite the day-and-a-half of rest she’d had her body still felt like it’d been put through a rock tumbler and then sent on a bar crawl on Commencement Day. Her muscles ached and the small cuts dotting the right side of her face itched as they entered their final stage of healing.

She looked down at her hands, flexing them as she imagined the power of the tattoos flowing just beneath her skin and wondering if destruction was all they would be capable of. While many in the Corps were religious - adhering to the beliefs of the Church and praying to the Chosen One - Selene had decided at a young age that she wanted to be Catholic. Jeep had said her mother was Catholic, but in Vega it was considered one of the Old Religions; a faith that had been set aside in favor of the Church, which although it welcomed those of all faiths and denominations, it’s main worship focused on the Chosen One.

That was something else Selene hadn’t thought to consider; that once Michael deemed it safe to reveal her identity to Vega, that people would worship her as they once did God. It was a heavy realization to come to, and not for the first time, Selene wished she could have a day or even just a moment to herself to come to grips with her new identity and sense of self.

“Well, that’s enough introspection for one afternoon.” Selene sighed and logged out of her computer, shutting it down before exiting her office and locking the door behind her, the gesture feeling as though she was closing the door on her old life as well.

✝

Noma and Mack looked up as the Commander stepped off the elevator into the foyer of the full-floor suite she and the Archangel shared, the dark shadows beneath her eyes making the blue of her irises seem more intense than usual and highlighted the permanent gold ring encircling them.

“Sergeants…” Selene intoned as she approached the bedroom doors, observing their expressions as they glanced at each other, Mack shifting in place uneasily. “Relax, Ethan...I’m not gonna chew you out. It’s not your fault that Alex made you an unwitting accomplice.” She tilted her chin up, looking Mack in the eye. “However, you still let him leave Vega despite him not having the proper authorization or frankly, the right to exit the city under law.”

Mack swallowed, anxiety and anticipation knotting together in his stomach as Selene continued to stare him down. He’d probably end up getting whipped in front of the Corps because of Alex’s hairbrained, self-centered stupidity.

Selene gave an aborted sigh and clasped her hands in front of her. “However, what is more important, is that you went to Sergeant Banks, and that you both in turn, went to Michael. As such, I think a write up is a sufficient enough punishment.” Her lips quirked into a small smile at Mack’s relieved sigh and she winked cheekily at Noma who simply smirked in response. “Besides, your getting mixed up in my brother’s shenanigans will no longer be an issue, because Private Lannon will not be in a position to get you mixed up in further trouble from the Mess line.” With that, she strode past the two Sergeants and into the bedroom.

“Everything alright?” Becca asked as she watched Selene enter, noting the tense line of her shoulders despite the lack of expression. “How did it go with Alex?”

“Fine. I said what needed to be said and left.” She reached down to unlace her boots, placing them neatly by the bed before climbing up to sit beside Michael, taking his hand between hers once more. “I also demoted him to Private, took him off V-5 and above security, and permanently assigned him to the Mess Hall for now.”

Becca nodded, closing her notebook and setting it aside for the moment. “Understandable given everything that happened; especially given that it isn’t his first of even tenth infraction.” She agreed and dragged a hand through her hair. “So...do you think you’ll be okay on your own for a bit? I have to go on rounds in addition to grabbing some clothes. I should be back by dinner.”

Selene nodded, bracing her elbows on her knees, threading Michael’s fingers with hers. “Yeah...I’ll be fine.” She assured Becca and forced a smile to help set Becca’s nerves at ease. “Go on. Your patients need you and I think the least you deserve is a hot shower and a change of clothes.”

“I’ll be back by dinner. I promise.”

She nodded once more, watching as Becca packed up her bag and exited the bedroom leaving her alone except for the steady beeping of the machines and Michael’s even breathing. Closing her eyes, Selene breathed deeply, allowing the sense of calm that only came from being near Michael wash over her. It was disturbed as the distinct prickling sensation of being watched overcame her and she tensed, reaching for the knife she kept under her pillow.

“Who’s there?” Her voice was steady despite the unease pooling heavy in her stomach as she moved off the bed, keeping her body between Michael and the open balcony doors. “I said, who’s there? Show yourself!” She called out but not loud enough to alert Noma and Ethan...yet.

Her eyes went wide as a female angel emerged from the balcony, platinum blonde hair shining brightly in the afternoon sun while it filtered through the pure white feathers of her wings. “Selene Lannon?” She questioned and Selene nodded sharply, knife held tightly in her right hand as she continued standing between Michael and the other angel.

“Who are you, and what do you want?” Selene snapped, the words as clipped as they had been when she spoke to Alex and she continued staring down the other angel.

The angel smiled, the gesture far too sharp to do anything but raise Selene’s hackles, despite the placating gesture of leaving her wings open. “I am Michael’s sister...Uriel.” She bowed slightly. “I have heard much about you, Selene Lannon.”

Selene straightened out of her defensive crouch somewhat. “Well at least I can say the same.” She stated, and pulled her shoulders back. “Now, clearly, you aren’t here to kill me or you would’ve done so already.”

Uriel smirked, cocking her head slightly, the gesture almost birdlike and curious. “Hmmm...truth be told I haven’t decided yet.” She answered bluntly, grinning at the way Selene bared her teeth as she undid her sword belt from across her body and set it down on a small side table. “I am open to being convinced, however.”

“Convinced? What? Your other brother Gabriel slaughtering every human that tries to make their way to a stronghold not convincing enough for you?”

“Let’s just say I like to consider the merits of both sides.”

Selene raised an incredulous eyebrow at Uriel and sat down in the space between Michael’s feet and the foot of the bed. “Well, I’m still taking you not killing me outright as a good sign.” She insisted, tossing the blonde angel her own smirk. “So, what do you want to know?”

Uriel leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest, settling back. “Tell me whatever you wish.”

“Right…” She trailed off, sheathing her knife and placing it next to her on the bed. “I think you might like this one.” Selene smiled as the memory began forming, the images still as clear as they were then. “We had our first kiss at a ball, but before that my feet were killing me and your brother offered me a foot massage, and it all went something like this...”

✝

Selene had never been one for dressing up or wearing makeup, let alone wearing something as fancy and expensive as the dress Claire had leant her.

The gown was a pale blue, the skirts flaring out like an 'A' to float gently around her feet, the fabric tickling her toes every now and then. The bodice was corseted, it's structure shaping her normally athletic body into an hourglass, the lacing dipping in the back to expose the tanned skin of her back. She hadn't been thrilled about the exposed back, the silvery scars from enduring Alex's punishments on display.

She did have to admit that she liked the sleeves and design. While the dress had two thin straps ensuring it wouldn't fall, there were two delicate bands of fabric making off-the-shoulder sleeves. A pattern of delicate, spindling branches crafted in beads and diamonds that grew from the bodice, trailing down and out before stopping about halfway down the skirt.

Selene sighed as she made her way out into The Venus Garden of the Riesen estate, the soft grass a blessed relief to her aching, high heel clad feet. It wasn't often that she wanted to strangle both the General and Consul Where, but tonight she did, for deciding that bringing back the tradition of a military ball.

It wasn't so much the concept of the ball that bothered her, but the fact that her idiot little brother had found someone to go with. He'd found someone to go with, and the person she wanted to go with was unavailable in every sense of the word.

"High heels were designed to keep women helpless." Selene muttered, sitting down on the edge of the koi pond to give her feet a break. She rolled her neck, easing the kinks from having to sit painfully straight during dinner, eyes widening as she spotted the Archangel standing under the marble gazebo.

The fairy lights that had been strung across the expanse of the garden and under the roof of the gazebo illuminated the Archangel in an imitation halo, even as he managed to look as uncomfortable in a tux she did in her gown. She grimaced as she attempted to flex her toes in the tight confines of the pointy-toed high heels Claire had chosen for her.

“I would have to agree with you, Lieutenant.” Michael quipped, startling Selene as she flushed, the realization that Michael had heard every word she’d said washing over like a cold shower. “I never really understand the mechanics of women’s footwear myself, but from what I gather, most of the available options seem all together uncomfortable.”

She watched as he sauntered over before sitting across from her and loosened his tie, tossing the restrictive length of cloth to the side. “Archangel…” Selene murmured, gaze assessing as she observed the angel sitting across from her, then tension between already as taught as a ripcord.

“Lieutenant…” Michael’s lips twitched into a soft smile, something he was almost willing to call butterflies stirring in his stomach as Selene’s gaze lay heavy on him. “It would-- It would be irresponsible of me to allow one of my best officers to be sidelined because of someone’s inappropriate choice of footwear; now wouldn’t it?” He questioned, a playful glint in his eyes as he regarded her.

“I’m-- I’m...not sure I follow, sir.”

Michael smirked cheekily and allowed a gentle laugh to slip past his lips. “What I mean to say, Selene...is will you let me massage your feet?”

Selene stared at the Archangel wide-eyed, disbelief plain across her features. “I...I don’t think that would be appropriate, Archangel.” She stated and shifted in place, butterflies fluttering in her stomach at the way Michael was looking at her. It wasn’t as though either of them were blind to whatever-it-was that was growing between them, but the last thing Selene wanted was to step into the Archangel and Consul Thorne’s relationship. “I-- You’re the head of the AA Corps, and I’m...I’m just a Lieutenant. If someone saw--”

“Well, I can think of an easy solution to that, Selene. May I call you Selene?” He asked and Selene nodded softly. “I promise not to tell anyone if you promise not to tell anyone. I do have a reputation to maintain after all.” Michael winked, chuckling at Selene’s dubious expression.

“Only if you promise not to tell. And only because my feet are absolutely killing me, and if I have to wear these shoes one more damn minute, someone might not leave this shindig alive.” She enumerated, feet throbbing as they knocked against the wall of the pond.

Michael smiled then, the action something genuine that filled Selene with a warmth she wasn’t quite ready to admit was more than just a crush as he reached down and took her feet into his lap. “I shan’t tell a soul.” He promised as he removed the offending shoes one-at-a-time, nose scrunching distastefully at the pointed toe and spindly heel.

His hands were warm as they cradled her feet, his fingers easily encircling her ankle as he held her right foot steady before pressing his thumb into its arch. The relief was almost immediate and it was all Selene could do to keep from moaning out loud as he repeated the movement, dragging his thumb up-and-down the arch of her foot, the coiled muscles slowly releasing and she sighed. He repeated the movement with her other foot, seeming satisfied that the likelihood of her developing a Charlie Horse was no longer imminent.

“Alright, so far?” He asked, heart fluttering at the way Selene swallowed thickly and nodded, her azure eyes bright with more than just the relief at no longer having her feet shoved into what amounted to - in his opinion - a pair of medieval torture devices. “Good.” The word was a low breath as he threaded his fingers between her toes, forcing them to stretch and uncurl while he pointedly ignored the low moan that slipped out of the back of her throat.

Selene tilted her head back, curls tickling the space between her shoulder blades as she gave in to the pleasure of Michael’s hands on her skin, a low moan slipping past her lips as he forced her tightly curled toes apart, the sensation heavenly after hours spent in the narrow confines of her heels. She groaned as he twisted each of her feet gently, the bones giving a satisfying crack before he stretched them, the pull of loosening muscle feeling as though it was unwinding every tense part of her body. A startled yelp left her lips as Michael pulled her further forward, his hands now on her calves as dexterous fingers began massaging the tense lines of muscle there. She was unable to help the moan - louder this time - at not only the relief but also at the intense warmth of Michael’s hands.

“I have been informed,” Michael started. “By someone I believe to be a reliable source, that some women choose to wear high heels because it accentuates their legs. However, I believe that based on what I have seen - and felt - that the notion does not occur to you, because you need no such help.” He swallowed shallowly, looking up at her through his lashes as he awaited her reaction.

Selene stared at him, brain processing the words that had just come from his mouth and confirming that, yes, Michael had just flirted with her. The Archangel Michael - Greatest of all the Archangels and her most superior officer - had just flirted with her while massaging her calves...and she was happy about it. Because, that meant that whatever relationship there was between Michael and Consul Throne wasn’t nearly as serious as everyone made it out to be.

She cleared her throat, lips curling into a smile at the blush she found creeping its way across the Archangel’s cheeks. “Well...given that it was at Consul Whele’s insistence that all the women be required to wear heels…” Selene rolled her eyes. “Then I guess my legs can be accentuated while I shove my foot up his misogynistic ass.” Her smile widened at the genuine laugh that left Michael’s lips, the Archangel’s eyes shining with mirth as he finished his ministrations.

They both chuckled then, enjoying a long laugh at the expense of the pompous Consul as music began filtering through the garden, the chamber orchestra inside began their next set. Soon, the delicate notes of an old fashioned waltz floated through the air around them, suffusing the tension that had been growing between them all night even further.

Michael stood abruptly then, fingers hastily undoing the top button of his shirt before he moved to stand in front of Selene, bowing slightly at the waist as he extended a hand. “May I have this dance?” He asked, voice husky, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled.

“It is tradition.” Selene replied almost instantly and she smiled feeling absolutely giddy even as her heart stuttered at Michael’s touch, the brush of his lips across the backs of her knuckles threatening to send it galloping out of her chest. Her eyes held his, unwilling to look anywhere else as he led them further out onto the soft grass, the fairy lights turning his dark brown eyes into a depthless ocean that she was more than willing to drown in.

He steadied his breathing as he arranged them in the appropriate positions, the palms of their right hands pressed together in the center as they stood diagonal from each other. His heart stuttered as he caught sight of her gazing at him, expression open and ardent, azure eyes threatening to sear her name on his soul while the glow of the fairy lights reminded him of that first, fateful meeting and the unconditional kindness Selene had shown him.

They circled each other once as the music slowed briefly before coming together in the more traditional positions of a waltz as the music picked up in tempo slightly, feet carrying them through the steps until they fell into an easy rhythm.

Selene relished the openness of Michael’s expression, her own wide smile echoing the joy and happiness she found shining in his eyes, and she laughed as he spun her about.

As they danced, the music floated around them, its melody and the entrancing atmosphere of the garden wrapping them up in their own little world. Everything that mattered was right there, in that moment, where rank and decorum didn’t matter; where they were just two people dancing, and, if just for the moment, the war didn’t exist. They slowed along with the music, right palms resting against each other as they circled, the space between them vanishing by degrees with every turn until only a few inches remained and they stopped, breath mingling in the shared space.

Michael stared down at the woman he now knew he was undeniable, irrevocably and unapologetically in love with; the bright blue of her eyes now the beginning and end of his world as he held her gaze, the tension between them teetering at its breaking point. “I am tired of denying my feelings for you, Selene.” He confessed, watching as her eyes widened slightly, but didn’t break from his. “I am tired of acting as though my heart doesn’t belong to you; as if it hasn’t belonged to you since that night you took me into your home and cared for me.” His breathing trembled as he pulled her closer, one hand encircling her waist to press against her lower back, bowing her body against his.

“I’m tired of pretending too…” Selene murmured after a long moment, the confession seeming loud in the relative quiet of the garden. “I thought it was just a crush at first; but if anything what I feel for you has only gotten stronger.” She reached for his other hand, bringing it up to cup her cheek and brushing a kiss across the palm. “It kills me sometimes...to see you with other women.”

He inhaled sharply, eyes darkening minutely as he stroked his thumb across her cheekbone. Leaning down he hesitated, waiting to see if Selene might move away but she didn’t, breath ghosting over his lips. Her breathing was trembling, chest tight with anticipation and then anxiety as the sound of heels clicking reached their ears.

“Oh, pardon me.” Becca apologized and Selene jumped away from Michael as though she’d been burned, not daring to look at the woman who was like both sister and mother to her. “I’m sorry. I seem to have interrupted something important.” The Consul continued as she gave Michael a knowing and understanding look before turning to Selene, heart panging at how she could already tell that the younger woman was berating herself.

Selene’s breathing faltered as Becca took her chin between her fingers, tilting it up so that they were looking at each other, the lack of hurt or accusation in the red head’s eyes only serving to confuse Selene even more. “I’m sorry, Becca. I--” She trailed off as Becca shook her head, silencing her string of apologies.

Instead, Becca smiled and wrapped her arms around Selene, squeezing tightly. “I always knew you were meant to be together.” She murmured into Selene’s ear, feeling the other woman’s breathing stutter as she returned the embrace. “I’m always going to be here for you, Selene. I promise.” With that, she placed an earnest kiss to Selene’s cheek, smiling encouragingly as she made her way back the way she’d come.

Selene stared after Becca, mind processing the Consul’s words as they sunk in. She jumped slightly as Michael lay a hand on her shoulder, squeezing softly. “Are you alright?” He asked, turning her so that they were looking at each other.

“Yeah....” She nodded, a calm sureness spreading through her as Becca’s words truly sunk in and she gazed up at Michael. “I’m great actually.”

Michael grinned and pulled her close once more, right arm curling around her lower back possessively as she rose up on her tiptoes. He bumped his nose against hers playfully, delighting in the giggle it elicited before drawing her close and pressing his lips to hers. He moaned lowly, tasting the pink champagne Selene had drunk earlier that night and the hint of chocolate still on her tongue,

Selene let her eyes flutter closed, body bowing into Michael’s as he held her impossibly close, tongue tasting the rich espresso he’d drunk after the dessert course and she swore her heart skipped a beat. She inhaled deeply as they parted, enjoying the sight of Michael’s kiss-swollen lips and the creases in his shirt from where she’d gripped it to pull him closer. A happy sigh fell past her lips as he gathered her close, tucking her under his chin, lips ghosting along the shell of her ear.

“I love you.”

✝

Uriel listened intently as Selene finished recounting the tale of her and Michael’s first kiss and the beginning of their relationship, an unbidden pang clenching her chest at the way Michael automatically turned towards Selene’s voice. She watched as Selene murmured soothing words and brushed her hand through his sweat-damp curls, fingers playing idly with the

strands in a way that seemed to soothe her brother.

She could see the scar of Furiad’s wound marking Michael’s left flank, the skin puckered and pink and she realized that her brother must have taught Selene how to heal using their feathers. Either that, or the tattoos were already showing the girl far more than Uriel had anticipated.

“So you love him.” Uriel said at last and Selene snapped her gaze over to the blonde angel, standing when she did. “Love is all well and good, but it cannot protect you from everything.” She stated, wings twitching. “Trust me...I know.” Her eyes were hard as she stared at Selene, at the girl her brother had and would continue to risk everything for. “Tell me this; would you die for him?”

“I already have.” Selene answered bluntly, enjoying the way Uriel’s eyes widened as she pulled up her shirt to reveal the scar curving from her ribs to her hip. “But that’s a story for another time.” She stepped forward, placing herself firmly between her and Michael. “So...whose side are you on?”

She watched as Uriel stepped forward and picked up her sword from the table, the blades gleaming razor sharp in the sunlight. Anticipation and anxiety held her stomach in knots as the angel continued to approach before abruptly dropping to one knee, sword held aloft in her hands.

“I am on your side, Selene Lannon.” Uriel’s gray eyes were intense, threatening to bore into Selene’s very soul as she knelt at her feet. “I will shield your back and keep your counsel, and give my life for yours if need be. I swear this on my honor and on my Father’s name.”

Selene gestured for Uriel to rise and squared her shoulders before extending a hand towards the angel, exhaling evenly as Uriel accepted, clasping her hand around Selene’s forearm in a binding handshake. “Let’s get started then.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Angel (n.) 2. The young face they have named prophet quakes at their voices. His ragged breath tells the people of a time without grief, without the taste of ash when your knees hit the ground, without the agonizing screams, without the fear they named grief. It sounds like a dream but the beings watch the child with a careful eye as he stutters the words. Saved, we are saved. ” - Keaton St. JamesUriel stared at Selene as they shook hands, at the determined set of her jaw, and the ring of gold now permanently encircling her iris, and swallowed as unbidden awe sparked in her chest. She couldn’t remember when it had last been that her father’s Chosen One had required such power to be contained inside their little, mortal bodies, but even she was not immune to the power that had been released when Selene had screamed out in the desolate landscape beyond the safety of Vega’s walls.
She could feel the girl’s pulse thrumming just beneath her fingertips, and her thoughts drifted back to a time when she had clasped the hand of another such Chosen One, and the fate that had befallen him. It may not have been Selene’s fate to end up crucified by the very people who would hopefully welcome her with open arms, but there was a heaviness to her spirit that Uriel found troubling. Not that it would do her any good to voice such thoughts. If her father did have a plan for Selene, she had learned long ago that attempting to interfere only brought pain and suffering to those who tried.
Her palm tingled where it had touched Selene’s skin as she let go at the sound of the bedroom door clicking open, looking over Selene’s shoulder to meet the shocked green eyes of the Consul that had stood watch over Michael and Selene.
“Selene…?” Becca questioned, only just refraining from dropping the bag of food she’d brought back from her own kitchens as her eyes landed on the strange angel. “Selene, what’s going on?” She pressed, concern laced tightly through her words as she debated whether or not to raise her voice to alert Noma and Mack to the other angel’s presence.
Selene glanced behind herself, briefly meeting Becca’s worried gaze before returning her attention to Uriel. “Everything’s fine, Becca.” She assured the older woman, though Uriel swore her sword to her, until certain things were cleared up, Selene only trusted her about as far as she could throw her. “This is Uriel -- Michael’s sister. She’s an ally.”
The redhead narrowed her eyes at that, gaze calculating as she set the bag down and moved closer. “You’re sure?”
“She swore her sword to me and gave me her word that she would fight beside us.” Selene explained, lips quirking in an almost amused smirk. “Michael told me that was the key to getting her undying loyalty.”
Uriel rolled her eyes, though she had to admire Selene for being brave enough to keep her true intentions hidden from her. It wasn’t something most succeeded at, especially not mortals. “Selene is right.” She stated, platinum hair shining warmly in the bedroom lighting. “I have sworn by word and my sword to her. As such, I am bound to serve her for as long as she lives or until she releases me.”
Selene chuckled wryly. “Good to know.” She smirked openly then, accepting the warm cinnamon roll Becca handed her before tearing it in half and offering one to Uriel. Food always was a good way to get people talking, and she needed some answers before returning her attention back to the more pressing matter at hand. “So, if I ask you something, does that mean you’ll answer me honestly?”“As I said, I am bound to serve you.” Uriel reiterated, a hint of frustration leaking out as she took a bite of cinnamon roll. “I do believe answering your questions honestly falls within that parameter.”Selene sighed softly through her nose, genuinely wondering if being cocky, sarcastic little shits was a genetic trait that God had passed on to all his angelic offspring, and took a bite of cinnamon roll to keep her from saying something she’d likely regret. She listened to Becca moving around behind as she checked Michael’s vitals and wiped the sweat from his body with a damp cloth before swallowing and refocusing her attention on the mercurial angel in front of her.
“First off, I know that Arika is actually Evelyn. I mean, for God’s sake, everyone from here to New Delphi knows what the Ruler of Helena looks like. Second, I know that you and her are together. It was one of the first things I learned when I became Michael’s Second-in-Command, and not because you’re his sister, but because it was important to know who could and couldn’t be used as leverage against her should the situation arise.” The words were succinct and straightforward, simple statements of fact that Uriel wasn’t all that surprised to learn that Selene knew.
Uriel chuckled, a hint of canine flashing as she smiled. “I’m impressed by your knowledge, Selene. Though I will admit that Evelyn would be decidedly unhappy to find out just how much you know.” She shrugged, tearing off another piece of cinnamon roll. “Now what exactly do you want to ask ?”
Becca watched from her seat on the bed as Selene’s eyes moved through a series of emotions; annoyance at Uriel’s continued blasé attitude, grief at what was surely the memory of her father’s death, and finally the steely resolve she had come to associate with the woman Selene had become.
“Did you help Evelyn conceal Roan so that he could enter the city and assassinate my father?” She began, moving once again to stand between Uriel and Michael’s prone form. “And, if you didn’t help, did you know what she had planned?”
Uriel blinked, seeming surprised, though whether it was at the knowledge that Jeep’s assassin had entered Vega with the Helena delegation or that she was brave enough to openly accuse her of collusion, Selene couldn’t be sure. “I don’t know anything about what Evelyn is doing here in Vega, other than that she and the Helena delegation are here at the invitation of David Whele.”
Selene raised an eyebrow at that, though she couldn’t say she was surprised that Whele had a hand in bringing the Helena delegation into Vega. “You gave me your word and that means you can’t lie to me, right?”
“Correct.”
“Then I believe you.”
“May I ask you something though?” Uriel countered, curiosity sparking in her light-gray eyes as she cocked her head softly at Selene. “You said you died for my brother. How?”
She snorted and shook her head. “You don’t ask much, do you?” Selene chuckled and sighed softly, rolling her shoulders. “But sure, I’ll tell you. It’s not like it’s a state secret or anything.” Her lips tilted up in an amused smile as Becca rolled her eyes fondly and settled down near the foot of the bed.
Uriel watched as Selene made her way around the bed, never entirely turning her back to the other angel, which she tried not to be offended about, though she couldn’t really blame the girl. Her suspicious nature was probably the reason she had survived as long as she had given the cruelty of the world she’d grown up in. Her eyes tracked Selene as she sat down, leaning against the headboard and rested the back of her hand against Michael’s forehead, brows furrowing discontentedly at the heat coming off him. Her own heart panged at the angry red lines extending from Michael’s wound, and for a moment she wondered if the entire situation could have been avoided had she become involved sooner.
Selene cleared her throat and settled back against the pillows, gaze steady as she watched Uriel settle down onto the divan at the foot of the bed, Becca shifting her position accordingly to keep the other angel in her line of sight. Her heart fluttered as Uriel’s gaze came to rest on her, the eeriness of the angel’s light-gray eyes only adding to its intensity. For someone who had been in a command position for a few years, Selene really wasn’t someone that enjoyed being the center of attention, but she inhaled deeply and allowed the now familiar haze of a vision to descend over her mind.✝
Selene sighed in unison with Noma as their unit continued their patrol of the derelict shops and hotels that had once made up the rest of The Strip outside Vega’s walls. Tumbleweeds drifted down the cracked asphalt while broken glass reflected the afternoon sun in jagged bursts of light. Sweat prickled along her hairline as the temperature continued to climb, well on its way to ticking past a hundred-and-ten according to Selene’s watch, which only meant the pavement they were standing on was even hotter.

Patrols during sensor ungraded were always boring, with nothing for a unit to do but stand around and keep an eye out for any 8-balls that might be stupid enough to try and make it over the wall. In truth, as freshly minted Commander of the AA Corps, Selene was entitled to run patrols from the luxury of an air conditioned humvee or even simply monitor the progress from her office. But that had never been in Selene’s nature--to watch idly by from the sidelines while others did the hard work. It was why people followed her - respected her - because she was willing to shed sweat and blood beside the soldiers under her command. Even Consul Whele begrudgingly respected her for that.

“You really prefer this to air conditioning?” Noma questioned, gesturing to their surroundings with her elbow as she finished braiding her long ponytail into a braid in an attempt to keep it from sticking to her neck. “I mean...I know penance is part of belonging to one of the Old Religions and all, but this seems ridiculous.” She quipped, grinning as Selene rolled her eyes.

She snorted and wiped the back of her neck. “Please, if I really wanted to do penance I’d have chosen to walk with Alex and Ethan.” She retorted, wrinkling her nose as a line of sweat trickled down her spine. “Or, I would’ve stayed behind and listened to Whele complain about how our new kevlar vests were an extravagant expense.”

“Didn’t he just buy that ridiculous lion of his, a giant boulder to lay on in the shape of Pride Rock?”

Selene went to answer, the words dying on her lips as a red blue shot out of the sky and lifted Barnes off his feet. The young Corporal screamed, the sound echoing out across the ruins as he slashed futilely at the angel’s armored legs. She watched helplessly as the angel continued to climb, red armor shining crimson in the glaring sun as Noma radioed in the attack. They all looked up as Barnes let out a bloodcurdling wail as he began to fall, the angel grinning as they watched, laughing as he fell to earth. He landed in front of Selene and Noma with a sickening crunch, bones shattering apart as his guts spilled from the freshly made slash in his belly, blood forming a mirror-like pool around him.

“Take cover!” She yelled, hoping her voice remained steady as she fired a volley of bullets into the air. “Get cover! Stay close to the buildings!” Her voice joined the screams of two more soldiers -- Collins and Martin -- as the angel picked them off one-by-one, and she reached for her radio, shouting into it for backup.

The crack of gunfire soon filled the air as her unit opened fire on the angel only for the bullets to ricochet harmlessly off its armor. More screams joined the gunfire as two more angels joined the fray and began picking off Selene’s unit.

Selene watched helplessly as Ramirez, Rullman, Lee and Foster were all hauled into the air before either being disemboweled or allowed to plummet to their deaths. Distantly, she could hear the engines of their backup, but Selene knew that if she didn’t do something now, it wouldn’t matter when they’re backup got to them.

“Hold this.” She ordered, and handed her AR to Noma who took it without question, simply nodding in understanding as she sling the extra weapon over her shoulder. “You’d better hurry up, Michael.” She muttered under her breath as she unsheathed her sword and stepped out onto the road, the silver armbands on her jacket like a homing beacon to the angels. “Hey, bird brain!” Selene shouted and waved her arms, ignoring the incredulous looks from the others, and Alex’s attempts to get past Ethan.

Selene swallowed as black eyes settled on her and minion angel one broke away. “This one wishes to greet death early.” The angel hissed, feathers shimmering like an oil slick as they flexed their wings before descending. She dove out of the way, rolling across the scalding asphalt as the chittering of encroaching 8-balls reached her ears, the parasitic angels drawn by the sound and stench of death.

She hissed as she pushed herself to her feet, shards of glass digging into her palms. Her sword held at the ready, Selene waited until the angel came back around for a second pass and slashed at the back of its legs, the razor-honed steel slashing easily through skin and muscle. The angel fell in a mass of tangled wings and limbs, crashing through the front window of an abandoned bowling alley, Selene and Noma hurrying after it as it left bloody smears on the floor in an attempt to walk on severed Achilles’ tendons. Its right wing snapped as Noma planted her boot on it, digging the heel into the sensitive appendage as the angel gave an enraged shriek that trailed off into choked gurgles as Selene sunk her blade into its throat.

Leaving Noma to deal with burning the corpse, Selene strode back out into the street, easily dispatching three 8-balls that rushed her, their blood splattering both the pavement and her uniform. The sun continued to beat down relentlessly as a hot wind blew down the street, bringing with it the stench of blood and already decomposing human flesh. At least a dozen bodies littered the ground, the human outnumbering the angelic as Selene cut down the 8-balls as they continued to come at her until her blade was dripping with black blood. She swung wildly as footsteps sounded behind her, adrenaline fueling her actions and she only barely registered that it was Michael in front of her as he raised his blade in defense.

“Easy…” He intoned, dark eyes holding hers as she lowered her blade and inhaled shakily. “This fight isn’t over yet.” His voice was a balm to her nerves, allowing her to center herself as the armored angel landed opposite them, an amused smirk on his full lips. “Furiad…”

The angel’s smirk widened into a grin. “Hello Michael...long time no see as the humans say.” He smiled and twirled his sword, the blade was unlike anything Selene had ever seen--red and gleaming like it had been polished to a shine. “Does it ever get tiring? Running around rescuing these pathetic mortals?”

“Not so long as it means that I am fulfilling the duty given to me by our Father.” Michael replied evenly as he moved to stand between Selene and Furiad, protective instincts flaring as he spread his wings defensively even as Selene came around to stand by his side.

“Our Father?” Furiat scoffed, hand flexing around his sword. “Our Father is gone, and frankly we’re better off if he never comes back.” He chuckled wryly, armored feathers clinking together like a twisted sort of windchime. “Come on, Michael...you must find it liberating not to have to ask permission from Daddy to do every little thing; to not have the fear of his wrath dogging your every step?”

Selene could see Michael falter slightly then, and she knew that Furiad had struck a nerve. Michael didn’t speak often about the life he’d had in Heaven--the life he’d given up in order to protect humanity--but the times he did speak of it were littered with more blood and anger and pain than should have existed in such a place. She wanted nothing more than to reach out and comfort the Archangel, but she knew revealing anything about the nature of their relationship to one of Gabriel’s lieutenants was a gamble too dangerous to risk. Besides that, there was something bothering her about the way Furiad was simply carrying on the conversation with them, as though he had all the time in the world. As if there weren’t a convoy of humvees headed their way.

“I don’t know if it’s a human thing,” Selene started. “But there’s usually not this much talking during a fight.” She shifted in place, knowing she should be surveying her surroundings but at the same time, unwilling to take her eyes off Furiad.

Cold dread seized her as Furiad grinned widely, amber eyes gleaming with a cat-got-the-canary satisfaction. “You’re right…it doesn’t.” He smirked and casually stepped aside as the remaining angel from earlier rocketed out of the sky, slamming into Selene and Michael.

Furiad’s laugh rang in her ears as Selene tumbled head-over-heels, the hot asphalt scraping her palms as she attempted to put her body to rights. She could see Michael where he’d landed a few feet away, not nearly as disoriented as she was, but enough that it gave the enemy angel the advantage. Time seemed to slow as Selene watched the angel draw their sword, the angel-turned-assassin grinning maniacally as they approached the Archangel and she scrambled to her feet, not caring that she was essentially unarmed; all she cared about was getting to Michael before the angel did.

Michael watched as though detached from his own body as the angel drew closer, sword raised to strike a killing blow, yet he found that the thought of dying wasn’t what bothered him. No, what bothered him was that Selene would have to watch him die, knowing that the power to save him was beyond her grasp, and the one person who could save him had checked out twenty-five years ago. Bother soon turned to horror as he watched Selene push herself to her feet and sprint over to him, time snapping brutally back into place as she jumped in front of the angel’s path.

A forceful exhale left Selene’s lips as the angel’s sword stabbed clean through her jacket and tactical vest to lodge itself somewhere near the bottom of her ribcage. Her hands closed around the blade, brain not quite registering that there was too little of it sticking out or the pain of it slicing into her palms, even as she wrestled with the angel. The angel gave an enraged snarl, pointed teeth snapping shut inches away from Selene’s neck as it attempted to retrieve its sword from her body. But Selene held on, unwilling to give the angel a second chance at killing Michael, even as an unbidden scream burst past her lips as the angel jerked the blade downward. She could feel it slicing through the delicate organs and tissues before it scraped against bone and white-hot pain shot through her pelvis, the sensation drawn out as her body forced her to relinquish her grip on the blade, the angel pulling it from her stomach.

She tasted blood as she sank to the ground, clutching at her split-open side and the blood pumping freely from the jagged wound, barely registering Michael dispatching the angel with frightening efficiency before his arms were around her.

Shoving the carcass of the angel aside Michael scrambled over to Selene, stripping her of her jacket and tactical vest before pressing the former against the profusely bleeding wound in her side. “Why did you-- Nevermind that...just hang on. Becca’s coming.” He rambled, voice trembling in a way it hadn’t in centuries. “Hang on, Selene...please.” His voice wavered as an unbidden prayer fell from his lips, every beat of her heart punctuated by a gush of blood.

Ages seemed to pass as he waited for Becca and her medics to arrive, and he had to talk himself out of simply flying Selene back to Vega twice, knowing that any further movement would only make things worse. Blood slicked his hands and stained the front of his clothing, tacking it to his skin, but he refused to relax the pressure he had on her wound. It wasn’t until Becca was crouched next to him that he remotely felt like things were back in control.

“Selene...Selene, stay with me.” Michael murmured, cradling her head as Becca and her medics did what they could to control the bleeding.

Selene coughed, the action wet and strangled as blood leaked from her parted lips. “It’s-- It’s...okay.” She managed, a soft smile curling her lips as dark spots danced across her vision. “It’s okay… I love you.” Her eyelids drooped, and she could distantly make out Becca shouting something about ‘losing her,’ but she wasn’t lost; she could never be lost as long as she was with Michael.

Michael fought the arms pulling him away from Selene’s prone form, ears deaf to Noma’s calls to ‘calm down’. It felt as though his heart was in his throat as he watched Becca’s team scramble to attach Selene to the defibrillator, the spastic jolt of her body like a physical blow as he doubled over, Noma’s arms the only thing keeping him from crumpling to the ground. His pulse pounded in his ears as tears gathered along his lashes, blurring his vision as he was unwilling to close his eyes, fearing that if he shut them for a moment she’d disappear. Watching as Selene’s body jolted once more and then again, he found himself praying to an absent father, hoping that wherever he was, he might still care enough to not let Michael lose his love this way.

“Selene!” Another jolt of electricity, the alarm of the heart monitor a high-pitched whine bouncing around his skull. “Come back! Please, Selene!”

✝“Selene!” Michael jerked awake, Selene’s name falling from his lips like a desperate prayer as the lingering images of the nightmare faded, and he fought the surge of adrenaline telling him to run to take in his surroundings. Blurred shapes moved at the edges of his vision, and he could sense that he was in his own room despite his last conscious thought being of Furiad’s blade sinking into his stomach. Everything following that came in flashes; the pain of being loaded and unloaded from the Jeep, a tent floor stained with his brother’s blood, and Selene’s voice calling out to him from somewhere in the distance.
Groaning weakly, he flinched as a shadow came to hover over him, pain-addled mind giving it Furiad’s face until gentle hands came to rest on his shoulders. “Hey, shhh…” The voice above him murmured, gentle and familiar as he came back to himself fully, and he blinked in an attempt to clear his vision but the sleep tacking his eyes shut was making it difficult. Before he could voice any discomfort a cool cloth was pressed against his cheek before wiping gently at his eyes, taking away the sleep and allowing him to blink properly, Selene’s face coming into focus above him.
“...Hello…” He greeted hoarsely, greedily accepting the straw that was placed between his lips and cool water coated his parched throat.
“Hey yourself…” Selene murmured as she set the water aside and cupped his face, refusing to move even as Becca fussed over the Archangel as she performed her checks.
Becca cleared her throat, green eyes shining with amusement at the couple. “Everything looks good.” She stated, smoothing down her dress as she stood. “The infection is fading and should be gone within the next couple of days, but don’t be surprised if you feel more tired than usual for the next week or so. Other than that, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone.”
Selene rolled her eyes and laughed. “Thanks, Becca.” She murmured, only getting up enough to give the other woman an awkward half-hug before returning her attention
back to Michael, hardly noticing when the bedroom door shut behind her.Michael stared up at Selene who continued to hover over him, the lines of her body tense as she kept her weight off him, refusing to settle against him like she normally would. “Selene?” He questioned softly, smiling gently as her gaze snapped down to him.
Selene gazed down at Michael, taking a moment to rememorize his features; the faded scar between his eyebrows, the smile lines forming around his eyes and mouth, and the way his smile was never completely straight. She shook her head, brushing off his concern before sitting back and offering him her hand. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”
He frowned softly, but allowed her to help him up, steadying him at the sudden rush of blood before they made their way into the bathroom where he was deposited on the cushioned bench beside Selene’s vanity. His eyes followed her as she busied herself with drawing the bath, steam beginning to drift in lazy tendrils through the air as the sweet and sharp scents of vanilla and eucalyptus suffused the air. Michael breathed in the steam, letting it settle the last of his nerves as he came up behind her, thumbs rubbing gentle circles into Selene’s hips when she started slightly.
“Will you join me?” Michael murmured, pressing a kiss to the slope of her shoulder and breathing in her scent, nose wrinkling at the lingering traces of blood and dirt.
“Like you could stop me.” Selene joked as she stripped out of her clothes before sliding in behind Michael in the bath, arms coming up to wrap around his waist, fingers tracing the length of his new scar.
Michael hummed softly, covering his hands with hers and stretching his legs out under the layer of bubbles. The water came well up to their chests in the bowl-like bathtub and he could feel it easing the remaining aches from his fight with Furiad. He sighed contentedly as Selene poured hot water over his wings, taking care to clean each set of dirt and blood before carefully placing the feathers back in their respective places. “Becca always said couples should match in some way.” He quipped, gaze sliding to Selene’s scar as he turned his head slightly, mouth quirking at one corner as he attempted to lighten the mood.
He stilled his breathing as Selene tightened her grip on him, arms moving to fully encircle him in an almost crushing embrace as she leaned her forehead against his back, breath shuddering as warm tears began to trickle onto the skin.
“Don’t...Don’t even joke about it...please.” She begged, one hand moving to press against his heart, the steady beat of his heart the only thing that was really keeping her calm. “You have no idea how close I came to losing you.” Her breathing shuddered as she pressed herself against Michael’s back as the ‘what if’ situations began flashing across the backs of her eyelids, each more terrible, devastating and heartbreaking than the last. She forced herself to move, straddling Michael’s lap and pressing a searing kiss against his lips, the gesture equal parts passionate and desperate as she lost herself in the gesture.
Michael hummed in pleasant surprise as Selene pressed her lips against his, arms coming around to pull her even closer until their bodies were aligned from hips to chest, growling softly as she rolled her hips against his, pressing kisses up and down the length of his neck, sucking a dark bruise that would be impossible to hide against his pulse point. Heat pooled his gut, spreading lower as Selene continued her ministrations, the warmth of the water and the heat of Selene’s core pressed against his cock sent a flush across his body.
Selene grabbed the washcloth, using it to wipe the last traces of the fight and its aftermath from Michael’s body, even as she continued rolling her hips against his before pulling the plug. She squeaked as Michael hauled her closer before standing and hosting her ups, forcing her to wrap her legs around his hips and cling to him like a koala. “No fair.” She grumbled against the skin of his shoulder and giggled as he unceremoniously dumped her on the bed, the linen sheets sticking to her still damp body like a goddess emerged from the sea.“...Beautiful…” Michael murmured, dark eyes bright with equal parts lust and adoration, more than ready to worship at the altar before him. He knelt on the bed, bracing himself above Selene as he bent down to kiss her, tongue delving into her mouth while his wings formed a canopy above them. “I want to worship you.” The words were whispered against the skin of her neck as he trailed open-mouthed kisses down her chest to her stomach before looking up at Selene through hooded eyes as his mouth hovered over her sex.
Azure and gold battled for dominance in Selene’s eyes as Michael gazed up at her, canines flashing as he grinned before lowering his mouth and licking a stripe up her pussy with the flat of his tongue, relishing the moan that fell from her lips as she threw her head back, hands burying themselves in his hair. He circled her clit with the tip of his tongue before dipping down to lap at her core, the juices dripping down his chin as sweet as any ambrosia he’d eaten in Heaven. He traced the words of ancient prayers in Enochian into her folds before inserting two fingers and pumping steadily.
The gasps and moans Selene released went straight to his cock as he peppered kisses to the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, relishing the trembling of her muscles as she fought against the urge to simply clamp her thighs around his head. A drawn out sigh wobbled past her lips as he circled her clit with his thumb, the calloused pad providing just enough friction to tantalize her while his fingers continued thrusting shallowly, slick sliding down his hand to soak the sheets beneath them.
His mouth watered at the sight of her swollen and slick folds, the muscles within pulsing around his fingers as she sought out something more than what his fingers could give her. Without thinking, he leaned forward and captured her throbbing clit between her lips, using his free hand to hold her hips steady as sucked and teased the highly sensitive bud until Selene was breathing raggedly, fingers coiling tightly through his hair as her nails dragged against his scalp. Removing his fingers, he smirked at Selene’s plaintive whine before lowering his mouth over her slit once more, tongue laving at her core.
“Michael…” She exhaled heavily, chest heaving as a hot flush spread rapidly through her body. “Please...God...stop drawing it out.” The words were as ragged as her breathing and she could no longer keep her thighs from bracketing his body, the inner muscles quivering against his shoulders as he continued to eat her out.
Michael grinned, rubbing and pinching her clit between thumb and forefinger as he sucked and licked at her core, knowing she was close to falling over the edge. He kept up his ministrations, bobbing his head in rhythm with her rolling hips, bringing her closer and closer to the edge until she was teetering at the precipice and he surged forward, sucking her clit into his mouth and lashing it with his tongue.
A loud moan left Selene’s lips as she came, thrusting her hips against Michael’s mouth as he wrapped his hands around her thighs as he rode out her orgasm. Eventually, her movements stilled and her moans trailed off into ragged gasps, smiling as she gazed down at him. “I hope you have more in you, love.” He murmured seductively and moved up her body, wings trembling and twitching with anticipation as he bracketed Selene.
“What’re you tired or something?” Selene quipped in return and reached out to thread their fingers together, allowing Michael to bring their joined hands above her head.
A low growl rumbled in Michael’s chest and he claimed Selene’s lips in a bruising kiss, nipping at her bottom lip before moving to her neck where he sucked a matching bruise to the one she gave him. All six of his wings spread out in a canopy above them, nearly blocking out the sunlight streaming in through the wall of windows as he reached down and aligned his cock with her pussy, burying himself to the hilt in a single thrust.Selene moaned, uncaring that Mack and Noma could most definitely hear them, as she rolled her hips to meet Michael’s thrusts, the Archangel bottoming out each time. “Sweet Jesus!” She breathed and Michael grinned, drawing her into another searing kiss, content to remain in this world of heat and desire where nothing mattered but them.He continued thrusting, groaning at the way Selene’s muscles milked his cock, her gaze equal parts lustful and adoring as a soft tingle began to travel across his skin, the tattoos coming into stark relief against his skin as they moved and coiled around their bodies. His eyes traced the path of the tattoos, the text as illegible as always to him as they coiled around their joined hands before spiraling up their arms and criss crossing over their hearts. A soft almost heavenly glow began emitting from Selene’s skin, the tattoos fading to a dark red as it wrapped even tighter around their left wrists, the tingling intensifying as they both chased their release.Their eyes locked, Selene’s irises dominated by gold as the glow intensified, Michael’s thrusts becoming erratic before burying himself to the hilt, groaning as he came. Michael focused in on the red tattoos coiled tightly around his and Selene’s left wrists while the rest looped almost carelessly around the rest of their bodies. A sharp prick broke through his post-orgasmic haze before the tattoos slid away, disappearing back into Selene’s skin until they were needed again, leaving behind a new set of tattoos in the same archaic filigreed style.Michael’s heart stuttered as he took in the new tattoos adorning both his and Selene’s wrists, eyes tracing the double infinity symbol and the text extending out from it, not quite believing the sight before him. The text itself was enough to bring a sheen of tears to his eyes as a still disbelieving laugh left his lips. “Bound together immortally by love.” He breathed, nuzzling into the hand Selene cupped against his cheek.
“I told you I’d never leave you.” Selene murmured, gently swiping at the escaping tears with the pad of her thumb, the soft glow coming from her skin bathing the space under the canopy of Michael’s wings with golden light.
“I--I never thought something like this was meant for me.” He breathed, voice full of disbelief and wonder before he pressed his lips to Selene’s, pouring everything he felt he couldn’t say into the gesture. “I love you.” Michael whispered, the admission allowing something to finally settle within him, a sense of rightness coming over him.
They both watched, curious as the heavenly glow traveled through Selene to wash over Michael’s wings. The appendages tingled and Michael watched as Selene’s eyes widened in awe. Out of the corner of his eye he could see his wings changing, the oil slick blackness being washed away until only brilliant, pearlescent white remained, the light continuing on its path until it fell away, revealing golden tips that glowed in the bright sunlight.
Reaching up, Selene took his face in her hands and pulled him down so that they were pressed together from feet to chest, burying her fingers in the now dusky gray down where his wings met the plane of his back. Her lips traced the shell of his ear as she pressed a kiss by his temple. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”
✝Michael smiled as he continued tracing nonsensical patterns over Selene’s back. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d felt more happy or content than he did right then, in this world where he and Selene were the only ones that mattered, and the outside world had no say over their lives.
He purred as Selene’s fingers trailed down his newly revealed wings, the pearlescent feathers seeming more sensitive than his old ones had been, while the golden tips glimmered in the sunlight. He’d always known that angels were supposed to have Mates, those that they bonded with for eternity, but he’d never dared to dream that there was someone out there for him; that someone would look at him and see someone they wanted to spend their life with. Not until Selene...and even then a future with her hadn’t been something he’d allowed himself to believe in - to think about - until the moment they’d bonded.
“I can hear you thinking.” Selene muttered into her pillow as she turned over onto her side, fingertips tracing the velvety feathers where wings met skin, smiling as Michael purred and draped one wing over her.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.” He admitted softly, curling his wing and dragging her even closer to him. “They’re going to think something’s wrong with me. What with how I’m grinning like a fool.” His words were met with an amused chuckle as Selene rolled over to face him properly, though the mirth in her eyes was shadowed by something else that he couldn’t quite place.
Selene smiled and pressed her lips against Michael, delaying the inevitable moment where she had to explain everything that had transpired while he was out. “As long as it annoys Riesen and Whele, I have no objection to you continuing to grin like a fool.” She cupped his face with the hand that wasn’t pinned between them. “Besides, you’re my fool and anyone who tries to make fun of you, will have to go through me.”
Michael laughed, the sound bright and clear. “A truly terrifying thought.” He teased before sobering and turning to look her in the eye, the lightness from before still there even as his features took on a more serious note. “There’s something else though. Something you’re trying to find the right way to tell me.”
“I don’t think there’s really a right way to tell you that I arrested my twin brother on a rather long list of charges and that I have to be the one to hand down the necessary punishment.” She replied sarcastically, the words falling out of her mouth before she could think better of it.
The Archangel was quiet for a moment, the totality of what Selene had done--what she had essentially done for him--leaving him at a loss for words if only momentarily. “Are you truly prepared to do so?” He asked, not for once doubting her duty as Commander, but more whether she was emotionally prepared to punish Alex the way the Uniform Code demanded.Selene nodded and brought Michael’s hand up to kiss the knuckles as though her kisses to erase the times he’d been forced to whip her for Alex’s disobedience. “I’m not going to allow him to continue making you whip me bloody.” She insisted forcefully, words laced with conviction. “Not now--not after this--where we can feel each other in a way we couldn’t before. I couldn’t-- I won’t let him do that to you.”
“I understand…” Michael murmured softly after a few moments before maneuvering Selene until she lay on top of him and cocooned them in his wings, the deceptively dangerous feathers a warm blanket over them both. He could sense by the way that Selene didn’t fully relax into him that there was something else on her mind; something else that she had to inform him about but continued to chew on. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”
“There is.” She admitted and sighed heavily, breath rushing out across Michael’s chest. “Your sister paid me a visit last night. It seems the rumors are true that she follows Evelyn wherever she goes.” The lack of alarm in her voice served to soothe Michael’s freshly agitated nerves, his apprehension thrumming through their bond like the beat of a hummingbird’s wings. “It took some convincing, but I got her on our side in the end.” Selene's eyes sparkled at that, a victorious glint to them as she smiled. “I even got her to swear her sword and give me her word.”Michael sat up abruptly at that, dumping Selene onto the mattress with an undignified squeak as she rolled off him, hair falling into her face. “You’re sure she gave you her word?” He questioned seriously, even as she continued to glare at him petulantly through her curtain of hair.
“Yes, I’m sure.” Selene replied somewhat indignantly as she pushed her hair out of her face. “I was there afterall, and Becca can confirm.” She stated and stuck her tongue out at him playfully, swatting at his hands when he went to tickle her.“This is a good thing, Selene.” He pressed, eyes glinting excitedly as he kissed her. “Assuming Gabriel still thinks Uriel is content not choosing a side, we now have an opportunity to have an informant inside his inner circle.”
✝“Wakey wakey, Lannon!” Captain Henderson’s voice cut through the gray fog that had begun to form over Alex’s thoughts the longer he stayed in the darkness of his cell. He had no idea how much time had passed, whether it had been a few days or a few weeks, but he had a feeling that there was a camera somewhere in the cell because the guards shoved a tray of food through the slot in the door whenever he seemed particularly hungry.
“Time to face the music.” Henderson mocked as he sauntered into the cell, beady eyes glinting as he took in Alex’s sorry state. “And here I thought you Corps-type prided yourselves on appearances.” He tisked disapprovingly as he grabbed hold of Alex’s jaw, the days-old stubble rough against his calloused fingers. “We can’t have you appearing before the Senate looking like the raccoon that lives in the dumpster out back now can we?”
The Army Captain’s voice was anything but kind as he jerked a somewhat dazed Alex to sit on the latrine before efficiently shaving away his stubble with an electric razor. “There.” Henderson patronizingly patted Alex’s cheek before hauling him to his feet and kicking his feet shoulder width apart. “Try to fall down.” He ordered as the guard waiting outside passed him the length of hose. “I’d really hate to add you throwing my back out to your list of infractions.”
Alex glared but said nothing, gnashing his teeth together to the point of pain as Henderson clicked on the hose and a blast of icy water hit him square in the chest. The effect was instant, sending painful goosebumps erupting all across his skin as his lungs seized, the cold refusing to allow air in even as his knees shook, the joints threatening to give way and send him crashing to the hard floor. He shivered and wrapped his arms around himself as Henderson threw the hose aside before flinging a towel and his uniform at him.
“Get dressed.” Henderson barked as he moved to stand outside the door. “You’ve got ten minutes.” He watched as Alex scrambled to dry himself off and pull on his uniform, the silver wings mocking the Army Captain even if he knew Lannon wasn’t going to be wearing them much longer.
Alex inhaled shakily as he smoothed out the front of his uniform, brushing his fingers over the familiar Sergeant’s stripes on each shoulder. Some part of him wondered if maybe this meant that Selene had forgiven him. That he’d get off with a lecture and a small punishment before being told to return to duty. He came back to himself as Henderson locked a simple set of handcuffs around his wrists, the manacles separated by a solid bar instead of chain before those were locked to a chain belt and ankle manacles like the ones he’d been forced to wear when he was first arrested.Fresh dread and apprehension pooled in his gut as he was marched down the corridor and out into the processing area before being loaded into a jeep with blacked out windows, the heat stifling as they drove. He picked at his cuticles, the skin wrinkled and malleable from his “shower”. Stumbling, he followed after Captain Henderson as two Lieutenants took hold of his arms and began marching him into the AA Corps Training Grounds housed in what had once been the headquarters of the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department. He looked up, squinting at the sun glaring off the tinted windows, knowing that Selene was likely watching his progress from the lofty perch of her office.
“Claire!” Alex called out as he caught sight of his girlfriend, her hair falling in a tightly done elaborate braid that contrasted sharply with the loose fit of her gown. “Claire, come on!” He called louder as Claire continued on her way as though he wasn’t shouting in an enclosed hallway. “Come on, Claire. Please!”
His heart leapt as she stopped, waving on her father and the rest of the House Riesen delegation before turning to face him.
“We’re done Alex.” Claire stated firmly as she ran her gaze over Alex, doing her best to ignore the pang in her heart at the way he obviously favored one side.
Alex froze, heart sinking like a lead weight in his chest. “W-What do you mean ‘we’re done’?” He questioned incredulously, his attempt to reach out to her aborted by his shackled wrists. “We can work this out, Claire. I know we can.”
Claire shook her head, curls tumbling around her face as she stared at Alex sadly. “Maybe Alex, when it was just you playing hookie and shirking the rules to be with me.” She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. “But you almost got Michael and Selene killed, because as usual you weren’t thinking about anything else, except what you wanted.”“That’s not fair!” He protested vehemently, ignoring the way Captain Henderson was looking on with a self-satisfied smirk. “You’re just breaking up with me because Selene’s about to make an example of me and you don’t want to be connected to that.” The words were out of his mouth before he could think better, each syllable like the cloying sweetness of poison as they hit their mark.
“I never cared about your image , Alex. All I cared about was that you could put others before yourself, but now I see that you can’t, and maybe you never could unless that person met your arbitrary set of standards.” She shot back, tongue the honed weapon her father had trained it to be as her eyes flashed with defiant fire. “I’m marrying William, just so you know. I’m finally going to do something for the good of Vega and not just myself.” Claire drew her shoulders back, every line of her body the image of the elegant future Lady of the City. “I never cared that you were a soldier or what rank you were, Alex...but you’re reckless and one day that recklessness will get someone killed, and I frankly no longer want to be a part of encouraging it.”
With that she turned around and went to catch up with the rest of the Riesen party, her heels echoing off the walls off the corridor as the two Lieutenants took hold of his arms once more and continued marching him towards the training courtyard. His eyes widened as they emerged into the courtyard, taking in the sight of the assembled ranks of the AA Corps standing at parade rest in perfect, uniform lines with their uniforms and personal appearances immaculate. A stage had been erected at the front of those assembled, while the Senate along with Claire, William and the higher officers of the Corps watched from the patio of the Mess Hall.
Selene watched as Alex was marched up on stage, fresh irritation rising up at how her brother had the gaul to look like he’d been put through the ringer by spending less than a half a week in solitary. The sensation of Michael standing just behind her steeled her resolve as the two Army Lieutenants brought Alex to the center of the stage, each holding onto one of her brother’s arms before a thick silence descended over the courtyard. She could feel Alex’s eyes on her as she stepped forward, the sound of five hundred soldiers came to attention reverberated around the courtyard, and five hundred pairs of eyes focused on the stage.
“The Archangel Corps was founded on the principle that above all its soldiers would serve others before themselves, and that it will strive to serve Vega and its citizens with the utmost integrity, compassion, fairness and loyalty as befitting our name.” Selene began, voice full of authority as she regarded the rank-and-file. “You have been taught that we rise or fall as one; that we set aside the individual in deference to the whole in our service to Vega, and as such you will bear this punishment as one.” Her eyes were hard as she inclined her head towards the two Lieutenants and they moved forward, shoving Alex into position where he was secured like an ‘X’ in the stocks.
“The Archangel Corps has allowed our standards to lapse with nearly fatal results for our most senior commanding officer as demonstrated by the recent actions of Sergeant Lannon.” Selene continued, staring down at those assembled and meeting Noma and Mack’s eyes where they stood side-by-side. “Starting today, such laxness will no longer be tolerated. All soldiers, regardless of rank, are expected to be in proper uniform with their appearance maintained in accordance to the Uniform Code without exception. All barracks and quarters will be searched and any contraband found, confiscated and the appropriate reprimand issued, regardless of rank.” Her words were met with an uncomfortable shifting of bodies, but no one voiced a protest. “We are the Archangel Corps, and we must be better than we have been. So we will take on this endeavour, together, until we can stand proud in front of those we serve and have them know that we are serving them at our very best.”
She took a steadying breath as she removed her knife from the sheath strapped to her thigh and stepped forward, placing the top against the stitches holding the Sergeant’s stripes to Alex’s uniform. “Sergeant Alex Lannon, you are hereby stripped of rank and demoted to that of Private.” The tip of her knife made quick work of severing the stitches, her movements methodical until her brother's uniform was bare of rank insignia on both sleeves before stepping back once more and exchanging her knife for the whip that had been used on her so many times before. “For the charges listed your punishment will be twenty lashes, which will be counted out loud and in unison by yourself and your fellow Corps members. If anyone falters, or fails to count, we will begin again.”
Michael watched as the two Lieutenants moved forward in sync, cutting away Alex’s uniform until he was bare from the waist up as Selene’s words bounced around the inside of his skull. Though part of him was proud of Selene for going through with the required punishment, however severe it might seem, another part of him wondered at the damage being done. Damage not just to Selene and Alex’s relationship, but to Selene herself.
But there was nothing to be done now as Selene adjusted her grip on the whip, the weapon that he had been forced to turn against her more times than he cared to count because of Alex’s reckless disregard for the rules and authority. So yes, some vindictive part of him was glad of the karma in Alex’s punishment even as Selene brough the whip down and the courtyard echoed with the collective count of “one”.
✝Michael and Selene stood once more before the gathered Senate. Selene’s palms stung where her nails had cut into the delicate skin during Alex’s punishment, but she masked the pain behind the neutral countenance reserved for dealing with the ruling elite of Vega, though she had to admit that her curiosity was piqued by the addition of Claire and William. Anyone looking at them would assume they were a happily engaged couple, eagerly awaiting their wedding day; but Selene could tell that there was something off in the way Claire held herself just a little too stiffly and by the distance in William’s eyes as though he were somewhere else entirely.
“We’ve read your report of the past days’ events, Commander Lannon, and I think I speak for those gathered that a commendation is in your immediate future.” Senator Romero congratulated, ice blue eyes shining with approval as the others nodded, though Whele’s was somewhat begrudging.
“Thank you, Senator Romero.” Selene intoned, bowing slightly towards the blonde Senator who inclined her head in return. “The angel--Furiad--his body is still out there. It would be prudent if it were collected and his armor studied. With any luck maybe we’ll finally be able to develop an armor-piercing round.” She suggested, pulling her shoulders back as she regarded General Riesen and Consul Whele, sensing Michael tense beside her. “However, that’s not to say that I want him turned into a science experiment.”
Riesen nodded and rubbed at his chin. “I couldn’t agree more, Commander. A team will be sent to the location detailed in your report tomorrow.” He dictated and was almost successful in hiding the wince of pain that flashed across his features as he inhaled deeply. “There is something else this body wishes to discuss with you...both of you.”
The couple exchanged a glance at that, not used to being addressed in tandem when it was usually one or the other, or more often than not, just Michael. “Is something wrong, General?” Michael questioned, cocking his head to the side slightly.
“No...no...nothing’s wrong.” David interjected and clapped his hands together, a canary-eating grin on his face as he leaned forward in his seat. “As you know Claire and William are set to be married at the end of the month; and well, the General and I have something of a proposition for you.”“Is this a proposition or a command?” Selene countered sharply, David’s smug smarminess enough to send a shudder of disgust down her back.
Whele shrugged and laughed. “Take it as you will.” He quipped sarcastically and relaxed in his seat. “Now, where was I? Oh yes, our proposition is that you and Michael get married alongside Claire and William, and we give Vega something to rally behind.” His eyes glittered with ambition and at a victory already secured, because what could either of them say in protest.They turned to regard each other, Michael searching Selene’s face and seeming to find whatever it was he wanted. “Well, we always said that we wanted to get married...eventually.” He murmured, chuckling despite the somewhat awkward tension in the room.
Selene gave an aborted chuckle which then turned into laughter as she reached out to link hands with Michael. “Fine. We accept your proposal” She said, the irony of the words evident to everyone as she shot Whele a self-satisfied smirk. “But I get to pick the shoes this time and my Maid of Honor. It is the bride’s prerogative, after all.”
Riesen and Whele nodded, ignoring the dissatisfied grumbling coming from Senator Frost at the thought of another expensive and frivolous event. “Of course…” Whele agreed, though something else glimmered in his eyes. “Planning a wedding is the bride’s prerogative.”
Something in his words gave Selene pause, even as pure love and happiness flooded her through hers and Michael’s bond. There was something else at play, and she had a feeling that nothing good would come of it.✝“I want to stop by the cemetery tonight.” Senator Frost stated as he nodded to his detail waiting for him as he exited the Senate. Tonight’s session had worn him out more than usual with Riesen and Whele still refusing to acknowledge the seriousness of the situation facing them.
“Sure thing, Senator.” Davidson replied, gesturing to the other AA Corps members of the detail as they climbed into the waiting SUV, the tinted windows obscuring the Senator from view as they began driving through Vega’s streets.
He watched as they passed the market, the stalls were closing down for the night, and soon the crowds that had patronized the market would patronize a different type of market as the Red Light District came alive for the night. Thomas knew that the Red Light District was frequented by people across the entire V-spectrum, including Whele and Riesen, though the latter was certainly more discreet about it than the former.
The buildings faded away the farther away from the city center they drove, leaving behind the glaring lights of The Strip as they neared the Cathedral and the sprawling cemetery that had taken over most of the grounds. They reminded him of the Reflecting Wall of the Vietnam War Memorial that had existed what felt like ages ago, back in a time when he was a different kind of Senator in a different kind of government.
“We’ll wait here, Senator.” Davidson murmured as Thomas climbed out of the SUV, wincing internally at the Senator’s haggard appearance. It wasn’t often that the Senator allowed them to see behind the cool exterior he presented to the rest of Vega, but on the days he asked them to bring him to the cemetery, he always seemed so painfully human. He watched as the Senator made his way through the rows of polished granite, the slabs already filled with far too many names--both young and old.
Thomas sighed as he made his way through the granite slabs, their mirror-polished surfaces reflecting his own troubled countenance back at him. He continued walking until he came to a slab with a singular name framed by flowering filigree and sat down on the bench opposite it.‘Abigail “Abby” Frost’. His daughter had been his entire reason for existing, and it was the memory of her hoping that Thomas would build a better world that kept him going. It was the reason he advocated so strongly for improvements to the AgriTowers; to ensure that they could continue to sustain Vega.
“Oh, Abby…” He sighed as he braced his elbows on his knees and dropped his head to his hands. “They don’t understand how critical the Chosen One will be to the future of Vega, but they want to dress her up like a doll and parade her around for their own advantage.” His jaw ached as he ground his teeth together, dragging a hand through his hair. “The people of Vega deserve to know that the Chosen One is real, that everything they’ve been told to believe in and to pray for is real, especially before the people lose hope all together.”He sat for several moments longer, simply staring at his reflection in his daughter’s “grave”. Of course, there were no actual graves in Vega, except for those that had existed before the city’s founding. Anyone who died since then was cremated as per custom to avoid having an angel possess their body. This meant that his precious, beautiful daughter was nothing more than a pile of ashes in a box buried beneath the granite slab in front of him, and it left him feeling more hollow than usual and more than he wanted to admit.
“I wish you could be here to see the world she’s going to build, Abby.” Thomas whispered to the night air, swiping at his cheeks as warm tears trickled down his weathered skin, a newfound resolve steeling his nerves. “I have to do something, before Whele and Riesen get their claws into her and turn her into nothing more than a show pony.” He stood and brushed down his suit before wiping the last traces of tears from his cheeks.
Davidson gave him a brief nod as he returned to the SUV. “Everything alright, Senator?” He inquired as he opened the back door and Thomas climbed in.
Senator Frost nodded, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he sat down, eyes glinting with unusual determination. “Just fine, Erick.” He replied, throwing the young soldier off slightly by using his first name. “Talking to Abby always helps. She helped me realize that I can’t put it off any longer; that I have to do something before the situation gets out of hand.”
The young soldier frowned, but said nothing as he waited for the Senator to get comfortable before going around and climbing into the driver’s seat. He knew that the other members of the Senate thought Frost was odd, eccentric even, but he’d never given Davidson or any other soldier on his detail reason to think otherwise, so he’d keep his opinion to himself. He just hoped that whatever the Senator had planned, wasn’t something that he’d live to regret.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Hello!!I know I've been gone from this fic for forever, but I promise it has NOT been orphaned or discontinued. I just recently graduated from my Master's program which means while I apply to jobs I will have more time for writing, and fully intend to update this fic with in the next several weeks.While I work on outlining the upcoming chapters and carving out time for writing amongst a schedule that is busier than I thought it would be, I am going to be doing some editing and refinement of the chapters that are already posted.Thank you to all of you who have stuck with this fic and continued showing interest in it. It is one the favorite original characters and worlds that I have created, and I'm greatly looking forward to diving back into it.
Looking forward to sharing some new stuff with you as well!Thank you,Aviator 39