Page 3 of Gargoyle Sentinel
Even from ten feet away, Michael’s eyeroll was obvious. “Don’t defend them, Ezekiel. They’ve been standing out here gabbing for at least ten minutes. Let’s go!”
Ten minutes compared to the millennia since they’d been created was barely a blip on the radar. Time could be difficult for him to gauge because of that.
They silently followed Michael inside, the archangel waiting for them to all cross the threshold before replacing the glowing light barrier around the stately home. Once they reached the expansive dining room, Malachi noted that at least a couple of dozen fellow Slayers were in attendance. Most he knew, but there seemed to be some newer recruits mixed in. Of those, Ronen was the only one he’d met before. With a measure ofrelief, it appeared Lucifer wouldn’t be joining them. He wasn’t in the mood.
He’d never been inside the residence that was reserved for special ceremonies and important meetings. The walls were covered in antique tapestries woven with symbols of protection. The dining table, which could easily seat fifty, gleamed with polished mahogany. Despite the grandeur, there was a heavy sense of urgency in the air.
Malachi spotted Cassiel and Ronen at the other end of the room. When Cass turned his way, he gave her a nod of acknowledgement that she returned.
“Now that we're all here,” Michael began, his authoritative voice commanding immediate attention, “let’s get down to business.”
The archangel’s form gleamed slightly, his human guise barely containing the celestial energy beneath. He paced at the head of the table, hands clasped behind his back.
“Danny Rutherford was taken approximately six hours ago from the streets of downtown Aspen. What only I and the other archangels know is that he’s a Nephilim of great importance, and one who is completely unaware of his majestic ancestry.”
Malachi straightened in his chair. A thrum of energy vibrated beneath his skin, a sensation he’d never encountered before. Michael’s icy blue eyes locked on his as if he’d felt it as well.
“Malachi, have you or any in your lair felt the increased presence of shadow in your territory?”
Everyone turned his way, and he was filled with a measure of shame. As one of the sentinels of the Rockies lair, he should’ve been aware of a change in the fabric of the etheric plane.
“I’m afraid I haven’t been vigilant enough.” He hung his head, unable to bear the weight of his shame. He’d always prided himself on how steadfast he was. That was the main reason he’dbeen chosen as a sentinel. “If I need to be reassigned, I accept whatever you decide.”
“Malachi, look at me.”
He lifted his head, meeting Michael’s gaze. To his surprise, compassion was etched on Michael’s features, something he’d rarely witnessed from the stoic archangel.
“I only ask because every lair from the western edge of the Rockies to the coast sensed nothing. No blame falls on you for that.” A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “You’re a prized sentinel. Never doubt that.”
“Yet it was so clear to us in the East,” Cassiel interjected. “What could’ve caused that?”
Michael’s features darkened. “They clearly had outside help, a being more capable of dark magic.”
“But why this Danny Rutherford?” Malachi asked. “What makes him valuable enough for a kidnapping? After all, there have been other Nephilim with an impressive lineage.”
Cassiel snorted. “Right? I get that most of the half-angels come from too much earthly partying, but there’ve still been several that weren’t.”
Michael's expression grew more solemn. “Danny Rutherford is no ordinary high-level Nephilim. His lineage traces directly back to one of the most powerful angels, one with a special connection to humanity.” He cleared his throat. “Present company included.” He paused, then took a deep breath before continuing. “Danny is the last of his bloodline.”
A collective murmur rippled through the room. Malachi exchanged glances with Dante, who seemed equally unsettled.
“The ransom demand is extreme,” Michael continued. “They’re ordering us to hand over the Holy Grail.”
Gasps echoed around the table. The Holy Grail was one of the top three most significant relics. The other two were the Ark of the Covenant, containing the Ten Commandments, and thescrolls of Mary Magdalene’s Gospel, written by her personally. Those items had been in angelic possession for millennia. The rogues would no longer need three relics to plunge the world into darkness. One of the Significants would be all it would take.
“That’s ridiculous,” Dante huffed. “They honestly believe we’d hand them ultimate victory on a silver platter? That we’ll sacrifice humanity and the earthly realm for one Nephilim?”
Unexpected rage coursed through Malachi at Dante’s words. He curled his fingers into fists, gritting his teeth as heat built under his skin.
“Hey. Mal.” Ezekiel regarded him with concern. “You okay?”
“I’mfine,” he growled, startled at his enraged tone. He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. When he opened them again, everyone’s gaze was fixed on him. Somehow, he kept managing to be the center of attention, a state that wasn’t familiar to him. “Sorry.” He laughed shakily. “Not sure where that came from.”
Ezekiel patted his shoulder. “No worries, man. Just making sure you’re okay. I always carry a lavender oil tincture with me in case anyone needs to chill. These are stressful times.”
Michael’s eyes were narrowed as he considered him, and Malachi felt as though the archangel was seeing into his soul. Michael had a tendency to do that, but it was always unnerving. After another beat, he regarded Dante.
“Obviously, we won’t be negotiating with them, and we certainly won’t be handing over the Grail.” Michael rubbed his chin. “This is what I believe. We’ve already lost at least one Shadow Slayer to the rogue demons when Lysander switched allegiances. And like him, they’re likely newly turned, so they’ll still appear to be like a typical Slayer.”
