“Does it not make you uncomfortable to still use their sorcery?”
“No. The Council doesn’t like them because they’ve never cracked the code for their own use, not because they’re inherently evil. Can you stop avoiding the subject now?”
I take a long sip of my bittersweet drink. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything you’ve conveniently failed to mention over the past month.”
“You’ll have to be more specific than that.” Swallowing the rest of my drink, I let my wings droop to the ground off the back of my chair. It’s a relief to rest them sometimes.
“Fine,” he grunts. “For starters, what is going on between the Messenger and her? I knew you two didn’t get along, but it wasn’t clear why until tonight.”
“She calls him Dusk.” Breathing life into the ridiculous name puts a scowl on my face.
“Dusk?”
“Yes, that is what I said.”
“Isn’t he an angel of light? That doesn’t even make sense.”
“That was my initial reaction as well.” Technically, the Messenger is his own specialty. Zihrunis the Archangel of Light, while Malak’s affinity is more to lightning and electricity. “‘It’s irony,’ she said. He calls her Dawn, too. It’s a name of endearment for them, as if they’re some kind of paired set.”
Semyaza snorts. “I’m sure you’re a huge fan of that.”
With the wave of my hand, a bottle of whiskey flies from the bar to the small table between us. I’ve lost the patience to make another Old Fashioned; I’ll just drink it neat. “Is it that obvious?”
“We’ve been apart for a long time, but I can still read you like a book.” I choose not to respond, but it doesn’t stop him from prying. “Look, you don’t have to tell me. I felt the same way about my Layla. I would have done anything for her?—”
“It’s forbidden,” I interrupt, however futile it may be.
“No, we’ve been through this, brother,” Semyaza sighs, stealing the bottle to pour himself another drink. “Council Law is not the word of the Almighty. I know the other Watchers and I suffered for the rape and violence that the Nephilim brought to Earth—not for our love and marriage to the humans. The Council’s interpretation of our punishment was solely to benefit Elohim.”
“Even if that is true, their control over the other realms makes them difficult to contest.”
I can feel Semyaza’s anger bristling, though not necessarily at me. “Only because everyone who would fight against them is either dead, imprisoned, or defeated. If anyone could find Kesbeel again to make another intention-protected realm, or even alter the terms of Adonai, then their control wouldn’t be so absolute… And believe me, I’ve tried. It’s a lost cause.”
He pauses to take a deep breath, which I know is his preferred method to calm himself. Kae does it, too.
“But you have the Abyss. Even if it’s more of a subrealm than a full-fledged divergence, it’s still an alternative option.” His voice drops an octave. “You could just letallof the defectors in. With the help of the locusts, you’d have an army strong enough to oppose the Council’s iron grip.”
“Semyaza.” Flattening my voice, I give him a look of true concern. “They’re already paranoid about another uprising. You need to forget such lofty ideas immediately. Elohim and the Abyss are reluctant allies. Nothing more, nothing less.”
He glowers into his empty glass for a moment before refilling it. “I didn’t let anything get between Layla and me. Not even time. I kept her alive and youthful far beyond the human lifespan, raising so many wonderful children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren... Everything was great until Azael brought God’s Wrath upon us all—the one thing I couldn’t protect my wife from.”
I watch Semyaza take one long drink of his whiskey until there’s nothing left, then follow his lead in finishing my glass. It’s barely hit the table before he’s pouring us another.
He becomes volatile when his human lover gets stuck on his mind. In the relatively short time he’s been in the Abyss, I’ve seen that look on his face far too many times.
Any topic, I’ve learned, is better for him than a reminder of his grief. “What of the archangels who didn’t follow you here? Have you heard anything new?”
“No, but I suspect those who remain unaccounted for have already joined the Adversary. It would explain how they’ve managed to evade detection so well.”
“That’s a significant majority.” It doesn’t bode well for weak positioning. “Semyaza, if you were me, what would you do?”
The subtle opening to meddle in my personal life instantly lightens Semyaza’s mood.
“I’d start by making sure my woman is safe and secure on the winning side.” He eyes me, as if he senses my doubts. “Then I’d be honest with her. Tell her how you feel. Thatyouwant to be by her side, forever, and the Messenger can just fuck right off.”
It continues to perplex me how quickly he’s adapted to modern language, with its curses and swears. I would greatly prefer to speak in an older, cleaner language—one that hasn’t been so convoluted and butchered.
