CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Gabriel had never rushed in all his long years. He was a calm man in general, always thinking things through and taking each step with purpose. Except right now. Right now, he felt like his heart had left him. The wind rushed past him so fast he could not take a full breath without his throat closing. His wings beat against the cold wind, pushing with power and purpose toward his goal—L.A. and the daughter he had barely seen in ten years.
His mind was a torrent of mixed emotions and thoughts. Was Aria okay? Where was she? Had Raphael lied and just said he found her to get a rise? No, it couldn’t be that—he must know about her. Growling low he beat his wings hard, banking to the left and sinking into the misty clouds. The cool moisture gathered on his feathers, glistening in the filtered sunlight.
Bringing his wings in close to his body he dropped sharply like a stone, the rushing wind cutting around his body. His energy acted like a shield between him and the cold stream of the air, allowing him to slide through the sky like a bullet.
The city began to grow before him as he entered the lower atmosphere and spread out his wings to slow his decent. His power gathered around him like a blanket, hiding him from the sight of mortals. The buildings of the city off into the distance were smothered in L.A.’s eternal smog. Even from here in the leafy suburbs of Pasadena, he could smell the city, the rank scent of garbage and human refuse permeating the air. He didn’t know how Aria managed to live in such a place.
He folded his wings upon his back and looked up and down the street, frown lines creasing his forehead. He knew his daughter lived around here somewhere, but to him the houses all looked the same. Dropping his glamour, he kept his wings obscured from view as he walked down the middle of the street. The sudden loud blast of a horn caused him to turn, coming face-to-face with an irate male driving a BMW. The driver flipped him off and swore loudly, jacking the wheel to the side and swerving around.
Gabriel just watched him and sighed. Even with all his reservations about Michael’s plan he could see why some humans just did not deserve to live. Another car headed toward him. Figuring it was best to avoid another irate driver he headed to the sidewalk.
His golden eyes watched the cars rushing past unable to fully comprehend the fascination mortals had with technology—other than cameras; they amazed him. The power to capture a moment in time and keep it. When time was an endless blur in your mind, each second no more important than the last, having a snapshot immortalized and emblazoned in color onto paper was a gift, one he very much enjoyed experiencing.
Closing his eyes, he reached out, opening his mind to the city. He was hit by a barrage of sound, mental wishes and dreams, prayers and curses. People wishing not only joy for others but demanding someone all powerful fix their problems. Gabriel hated that about humans, how they could look to a higher power to fix problems they made themselves. That using the name of any god in a war, claiming that only they worshipped the true god, gave them the right to try and eradicate one another.
Focusing wholly on the blood link he had with his child, he felt her mind. She still had not learned to shield. Then again, why should she? He had not exactly been an attentive father. The woman he had accidentally impregnated should never have been able to bear half angelic offspring. Had Gabriel known the woman held Seer blood in her veins he might have thought twice about seducing the shy female. But something about her had called to him, and he had given into a desire he had never before experienced.
From that one night came Aria, a being that should never have been born, a Nephilim—the offspring of a human and angel—who against all odds had survived. Yet her presence broke the fundamental rules of nature. She should, in essence, not exist. She had the potential to wield such power she could tip the scales in this battle between angel and demon. Her power, as of yet, had only manifested to ether manipulation. She could take the energy of a person and change it, fix it. She could see and communicate with spirits and those who had passed over.
Gabriel feared, deeply to his bones, that she would fully awaken into her true Nephilim form soon. Then her power might rival, if not surpass, Michael’s—and that would put her in the crosshairs of not only the leader of the Malakhim, but every species that looked to gain power. Gabriel needed to find her and move her out of L.A. as quickly as possible.
Locking his mind on the fragile link between them, he followed the draw and moved down the street, stopping before a small two-story brick house. He looked up at the window and saw her shadow move across the curtains. In that second, his mind went blank and his mouth dry. How was it that a being such as him would fear his own child more than his half-crazed brother who seemed intent on wiping out anyone other than pure angels?
How was he supposed to do this? He had been gone so long she was likely to look at him as an enemy rather than a concerned father. And why shouldn’t she? Since meeting the Seer of Empathy and Hindsight he felt more connected to humanity than ever before, and that included a desire to know his child, not just send her money every month.
He walked up the cracking steps to the small call box and pressed the worn white button for the top apartment. Then he waited. A soft voice came over the small box and chills ran over his skin. This was his child, his daughter. The words froze in his throat—five years was a long time.
“Hello? Hello? Look if you are expecting to just be let in, I don’t do that, asshole. Try someone else…”
“Aria…” His voice almost broke as he spoke her name. The silence that stretched made his heart ache. Had the speaker stopped working?
“What the hell do you want?” Despite the anger, he knew she must be feeling, her voice was calm and monotone.
“Please Aria, I need to speak with you.”
“Well I am afraid I don’t wish to speak to you, Gabriel. Good day.” The line went dead and Gabriel slammed his fist against the brick wall. Chunks of brick and mortar fell to the steps around him and he pulled his fist back, brushing the red brick powder from his knuckles.
Okay, so this would be harder the he’d expected. Placing his hand on the door he sent a shockwave of energy down into the lock, and the electric tumbler popped. He pushed open the door and made his way up the stairs. Stopping at her door, he lifted his hand and knocked.
“Aria, this is important.”
“Like the last ten years were important? Like my mother’s funeral was important?” she shouted through the door.
“You are in danger, Aria, please listen.” How did a father get through to his child? Especially one he had essentially neglected her whole life?
“I’m always in danger; I shouldn’t exist. Isn’t that what you told me, Gabriel? What is it your people call me? An abomination?”
Gabriel pressed his head to the door and closed his eyes, one hand flat to the door. He didn’t want to break it down; he wanted her to trust him. Yeah, like that was going to happen. He could sense her on the other side of the door. He could almost see her if he focused on her energy.
“You are my daughter, and I am a fool.” Salt—he could smell it, she was crying. He damned himself for doing this to her, bringing her any form of pain. Who the fuck was he kidding? He had brought her more pain then anyone alive. She deserved better than this.
He had hoped she would answer, but the next sound he heard chilled his blood. A loud crash and the sound of shattering glass radiated through the door, and her scream froze his heart. Gabriel grabbed the door handle and pushed. The weak door was no barrier—it literally popped off its hinges.
The scene before him sent terror through his frozen heart. Aria had her back to him, and the tip of a blade protruded from her back, her dark blood coating the silver and dripping to the floor. Her soft gasps and the low gurgling from her throat told him all he needed; his daughter was about to die. Rage like he had never felt before hit him—with a roar he was across the room.
The assassin blinked at the wrath-filled angelic being bearing down on him, and his eyes went wide. He did not get a chance to exit through the shattered window. A hand went around his throat and his bald head smacked back against the wall leaving a dent. He gasped, trying to suck in air, slightly pointed teeth exposed as he desperately gasped. Gabriel recognized his species. Daeva, another abomination in the eyes of angels. The unholy union of lower demons and lower angels. They were bottom feeders that were never accepted by either species and lived in the darkness, hunting those weaker—taking jobs where they could, half of them never asking or caring what the job was.
“Make peace with your god, Daeva.” The cold hate in the angel’s voice chilled the air as the assassin clawed with talon-like nails at Gabriel’s wrist.
Gabriel flicked his hand to the side and the being’s neck cracked and snapped like a twig. Dropping the body, he turned to where his only child lay curled up on the floor, the sword sticking from her upper chest. Her hair covered her face, her body silent and still.
Falling to his knees, he placed his shaking hands on her. Her energy was there, she was breathing. He grabbed the blade and pulled it from her chest, a flush of blood spilling from the wound. How did you stop this kind of bleeding? She was only half angel; her body could not heal this wound as fast as his.
Aria gasped in pain and rolled to her back. Her eyes opened, locking on his. Accusation and hate filled that gaze, and he could not defend himself against any of it. He had brought this on her. Gabriel gritted his teeth. Those eyes had always reminded him so much of himself, golden and shining. He could not lose her. What should he do? His mind locked on the only choice before him. He scooped her up into his arms and she whimpered in pain as he cradled her to him.
“Sorry, baby, I have to get you somewhere safe. Hold on for me, I know where.”
Gabriel gathered the energy of nature around him, feeling it raging through his nerves, tingling over his wings, and pulling his power harshly from his body. The air rippled before him, crackling with power. His skin burned, his very essence fighting against this kind of magic as he tore open a fissure in the fabric of the world. There would be no flying; this would be a direct transportation. It would leave him drained and ravaged for weeks on top of his still healing wounds, but her life was more important than his. There was only one place he could take her where she would be safe from Raphael and Michael.