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The air shifted, the pressure change making my ears pop and my skin crawl as Gabriel materialized in the center of the room. Biker leathers and gleaming hair included. I still couldn’t get over that.
“Patience is a virtue.”
“So is promptness.” I actually had no fucking idea if that was true, but it seemed like it should be.
The angel raised a brow. “Not when you’re the one doing someone else a favor. Mind your manners, little wolf. This is not the most pressing event in my diary.”
Recognizing the cover of the book in his pocket, I couldn’t resist myself. “Oh, hey. That’s one of my favorites. Isn’t it wild how it was the mom stalking them all along?”
“No. I haven’t finished yet. Hence the reason it’s in my pocket.” Gabriel scowled at me, his expression thunderous and, for the first time, truly terrifying. “And to think I believed you might retain one redeeming quality.”
“Oh, he has them, I promise,” Thorne said, coming to my rescue. “At least one. It’s just buried deep.”
“It would have to be.”
“I still haven’t found it,” Alek said.
“Fuck all of you... except maybe you, Thorne. You have good porn.”
Alek raised a brow, and Thorne’s expression went murderous.
“How do you know what kind of porn he has?” Alek asked.
“Are we here to discuss the finer points of pornography, or are we here for another purpose, Cashel? I have an entire Apocalypse to plan for.”
I didn’t wait for the vampire to respond. “Well, Gabe, we need you to find Sunday.”
“Gabriel. My name is not Gabe.”
“Po-tay-toe, po-tah-toe, buddy. I need my mate back. And if you want to stop your doomsday, you need to help us.”
“Was the Belladonna coven unable to lift the spell cloaking her?”
“Do you think we’d be here right now if they did?”
“It’s not a spell,” Moira said from the doorway. She looked haunted. Like she was still suffering after the failed attempt to find Sunday. To be fair, we all were. “It’s something... evil. It felt like death.”
“Come here, child. Let me look into your mind and see your truth.” Gabriel’s voice took on an almost hypnotic tone as he spoke. He held out his hands, and Moira tentatively approached.
Taking her palms in his, he took a deep breath before stiffening. Moira’s eyes rolled back in her head and she went limp.
“What the hell are you doing to her?” Alek snarled, his berserker rising to the surface. That had been happening more and more frequently these last few days. His control was on a hair trigger. It wouldn’t take much more before the beast snapped free of his leash.
Gabriel’s lips twitched. “Oh, this isn’t my doing.”
“Stop it this instant,” Thorne demanded.
“Quiet. I never get to witness visions as they’re received. Let me enjoy it.”
Moira blinked as she came back to herself, her gaze locking on Gabriel’s, all the color drained from her face, her fire-engine curls now a deep plum. But it was the angel who spoke first.
“Death was right. Your Sunday is beyond my reach. My grace can’t break through something like this.” Despair flitted across his face. “It is done. We have lost.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” I bellowed.
“There's something else blocking her from me, beyond any mortal or witch ability. The only time I've come across a power like this was when I laid the seventh seal. This is out of my, as you say, wheelhouse.”
“Are you fucking serious?” Thorne’s outburst surprised me, but I echoed his sentiments.
