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As Gabe went over the stats for his teams soul retrievals and rebirths versus stored souls Luc listened with one ear as he took in every nuance of what he could see on the screen. It was his automatic response, how he processed everything. Always looking for the threat, anything that could be useful information to have. What was the little shit up to? What was he hiding? He was good, he’d give him that, since he’d kept whatever it was under wraps for centuries. The tighty whitey asshole certainly had patience, although lately it seemed much easier to poke the bear.
“Any word on the number of new souls created?” Luc interjected. Gabe had finished his report but had just kept talking. He always did love the sound of his own pompous voice.
“No new souls. We are investigating and have posed the question to the Praesidium and through all major channels. As yet the Almighty has not deigned to answer our queries. Since Michael up and disappeared, not a single new soul has been created, as you very well know.” Gabe’s left eye started twitching. It was barely noticeable if you weren’t looking for it, but Luc was.
Knowing, as he did, exactly why the soul production line had stopped, it always gave him a shiver of joy up his spine to goad Gabe. The souls would continue to only be recycled ones until either Michael returned or the Almighty imbued Gabe with the essence of Michael’s magic. That could only happen if Michael died and his magic returned to the Almighty, or it was extracted from Mike and given to Gabe. Gabe being unaware of this information was a testament to the Almighty’s lack of faith in him. It yet again begged the question as to why he’d been given such a position in the first place.
It also told Luc two things and gave him hope for Michael’s safe return to the fold. The first was that his brother was alive. Secondly, whatever destiny the Almighty had planned, Michael still had an important part to play in it.
Relaxing back into his chair he couldn’t help but ask his next question. “What’s the status of your search for Michael? How many angels do you have on it? His safe return is paramount.”
Like a sulky little toddler Gabe tried to skirt the question and place the focus on someone else. He never truly had anyone’s back but his own.
“The search team has come up with nothing new. What have you been doing about it? Surely, with your little consortium being so superior to mine, in your opinion, you’ve found at least something?” The sarcastic snarl in his tone didn’t go unnoticed as someone off camera cleared their throat and Gabe’s face paled slightly.
“We have some leads.” Luc nonchalantly lied. “We're still following up on them and will include it in our report, should they pan out. I have faith that, even though it has been 357 years since he seemingly vanished, Michael will return, or we will find him and bring him home.”
Gabe hated not knowing things. Hated it even more when it was Luc in the know.
“Well, you haven’t yet, so let's just see how that works out for you, huh?”
Gabe was losing his cool, and they could all see it. Everyone around the table was trying not to smirk. Gabe had such thin skin. But his friends, his angels, knew better than to offer any input into these discussions until directly asked for it. Because, unlike Gabe, Lucifer always valued the opinions of those under his command.
Caine sat up straighter, his eyes narrowed to laser points at Gabe’s last comment. There was something there. Caine was an expert at sniffing out a person's secrets, something which was fairly common knowledge. Gabe avoided being in the same space as him or talking on the screen for any length of time while he was present, which made the fact he seemed to be drawing this out even more strange. Hmm, something was definitely up, he just didn’t know what. Might as well help Caine with some extra time to puzzle it out.
“Sounds like you know more than you're letting on, Gabriel. Care to tell us what that may be, and what you think happened to my brother?” His tone was sharper than he’d intended, more of an accusation and less of a taunt laced his words.
“Considering you haven’t really given a shit about your brother in the last, what, sixty odd years? And you’re now questioning me? Maybe you and your so-called best of the best don’t actually measure up to the hype anymore, Lucifer. Better get your house in order. I have it on good authority that representatives of the Praesidium are going to be visiting soon. Wouldn’t want to be caught with your pants down now, would we?” Gabe’s childish snark was pretty hard not to miss and his pettiness was quite satisfying. The little shit was still such a petulant fool.
“Wouldn’t be the first time now, would it? Oh. Are you still pissy that Jeannie got down on her pretty little knees and worshipped at the Temple de Lucifer, rather than sit on your pedestal? She was such a delicious morsel. The French King had damn fine taste when it came to his coveted mistress, the incomparable Madame de Pompadour.” Luc feigned a shiver of delight as though remembering the illicit affair, his tone wistful and goading. Around him everyone in the room snickered and coughed into their hands. There was little chance that those on the other end hadn’t heard them considering the remarkable hearing angels were gifted with.
Gabe’s face turned an entertaining shade of puce . . . maybe slightly more purple than puce, actually. With rage, wordless splutters erupted from his mouth with the occasional ‘you’ thrown in for good measure. It had been well known back in the day how enamored he’d been of the lovely Jeanne Antoinette Poisson. The fact that she’d preferred Lucifer’s darker allure obviously still ate at him, even now.
“Considering you don’t seem to have anything of worth to add to this little confab, how about you go and do your job, Gabby, and leave me to do mine.” With a grin, a wave, and a nod to the side Luc signed off. Seth cut the magical feed and thrust the wards back up around the room, reinforcing the fortress and portal wards too.
Within moments he found himself surrounded by bodies. Strong hands clapped him on the back and jovial shoulder bumps abounded. It felt good to get Gabriel’s goat. Damn, he’d missed these moments with his family.
Knowing they had work to do, Luc sent them back to their seats. Unfortunately, Gabe had been partially right, he’d neglected the situation with his brother for too long, his attention MIA. Also, he’d been totally bullshitting to Gabe about having any leads. Definitely not information that Mr I’m so far up my own ass needed to know. Especially with the suspicion Luc had about why Gabe seemed so nervous.
“I hate to admit this, but we’ve gotten, no, I’ve gotten slack after so many years searching for Michael. We need to make this a priority again.” Heads snapped up, backs got straighter, and he could see his warrior angels falling into formation, just like old times.
“Perri, I want you to take Sam and supervise the Search and Rescue Division. In saying supervise the SRD, you are one hundred percent correct in assuming that you are leading them in the search for any and all leads that lead to the rescue of Michael. Just try to be your diplomatic best, okay, Princess?” Luc slid Perri a wink.
“Umm, General, what if Michael doesn’t want to be found? I mean he could have chosen to leave his duties, right? There have been a few angels who did just that. I mean the Fallen, the banished . . .” Abbie asked somewhat tentatively. She always seemed worried that he’d bite her wings off if she said something out of place. If only he could go back to the hellhole she’d grown up in and royally fuck up those assholes who’d made her so fearful. Luckily she was brilliant at what she did, and while it had taken them a while to get her to where she was, she’d gained a much better family than before.
“It’s always a possibility, Abbie. But, I know my brother, and I don’t think he’d do something like that without extreme extenuating circumstances. Plus, I’m willing to bet Angel wine to fae dumplings that a certain tighty whitey slimeball has his filthy fucking fingers all up in this mess.” Abbie visibly relaxed. Luc felt the impulse to wrap his arms around her in a fatherly hug, an impulse he curbed. It wasn’t the time nor place, and she would not benefit from it even if it were. Her pride, her shield, wouldn’t allow such a display of weakness in front of the others.
Running through the list of assigned tasks for the week only took a matter of minutes: realm patrols for supernatural crimes, training duties, liaison groups, and supervision for the other teams. The soul collections for the week would come in one by one and were assigned directly by the Almighty into their brain and acted like a transparent viewscreen they could call upon at will until their target was acquired, so thankfully they didn’t need to go over any of those. It wasn’t long before the meeting came to an official end and the only ones left were Luc and his Devil's 13. At least they thought so until Seth cleared his throat from in front of the viewscreen that maintained all communication in and out of the fortress.
“Sorry, General, I was just about to leave when a top priority, highest clearance only alert came through. Thought I’d let you know and then head out.” Came the commanding, succinct tones of the ever efficient angel. He was head of the tech team for a very good reason. The kid had a gift that no other had mastered when it came to angel tech, or any other kind for that matter.
“You can stay, Sthenno. Put it on the view screen, full audio.” He’d trusted this kid with his whole fortress. He could certainly trust him with a memo.
‘Increasing reports of a being, both top side and in multiple realms, wreaking havoc and mayhem. Previous reports of the creature were less serious, minor memory damage and thought reading, no major actions needed. New intel of increased agitation and assault. Several people left with major damage, mind wipes, brains liquefied etc. All targets seem to be on the darker fringe of society. Several witches and low level demons have been struck down. Suspect’s behavior seems to be becoming more erratic and unstable. Visual attached of the only recorded sighting. Be on the lookout for anyone matching the description depicted in the following images.’
A cloaked and hooded figure, obviously female from the way she moved and the way the cloak clung to her profile, stealthily made her way to the city square of the dragon realm. Her walk seemed so familiar, and yet not. The dragon realm was not a place one went without reason, and her determination was clear in the set of her shoulders.
The woman came face to face with a stern, angry looking male. She stopped and held out her hands in supplication, an indication of no ill intent. They spoke. The feed came with no audio, although how they even had the feed was a mystery considering the dragons were so covetous of their privacy and social practices.
