Page 19 of Gargoyle Vigilante

Gabriel was as formidable a presence as Michael but with long, ink-black hair, skin that was a warm shade of beige, and eyes that were a rich, dark brown surrounded by thick lashes. He held out his hand to Amir, and Dante also tensed, but for a different reason. He hadn’t expected to become so instantly possessive. Getting accustomed to being mated promised to be interesting.

“Thank you, Nephilim. Your vigilance has saved a most precious artifact. We are eternally grateful.”

Amir accepted Gabriel's offer, shaking his hand while Dante practiced monumental restraint.

Amir smiled shyly. “You’re welcome. But I honestly only did what I thought was right.”

Uriel, with red, wavy hair falling past his ears, turquoise eyes, and a snowy complexion decorated by a smattering of freckles, stepped forward next to greet Amir. Finally, there was Raphael, and if Dante was being brutally honest with himself, the only angel he would’ve ever considered chasing after.

Raphael moved with a grace that Dante had never seen another angel match. His shimmering gold hair hung past his waist, his angular features and lilac eyes accentuating his ethereal beauty. He also extended his hand in greeting, the long, slender fingers wrapping around Amir’s small square ones.

Dante coughed loudly into his fist. He was done with everyone pawing his mate—angels or not. Raphael glanced at him sideways and gave him a wink. He imagined the archangels had all been laughing it up over him getting his fated mate after he’d split from the ranks and decided to do things his way.

Raphael drifted over to him, sweeping back a hank of hair that had fallen over his shoulder. “He’s lovely, Dante. Is he to your satisfaction?” He lifted both of his perfectly arched eyebrows, the hint of a smile decorating his lips. “I take no joy in the pain of others. Despite your disdain for authority, I’ve always wished for your happiness. One who is filled with as much passionate rage as you must also be capable of a remarkable love.”

Dante blinked, his eyes burning as he fought against unbidden tears. All he could do was stare at Raphael with a mixture of surprise and confusion. He’d never expected to hear such words from the powerful angel—words of sympathy, of understanding, perhaps even friendship.

“Thank you…” He suddenly felt so small and inadequate. “Your words mean a lot.” Dante managed a smile. “And Amir is wonderful. I’m not sure I deserve him.”

Raphael gave him a secretive smile. “You will.”

Before he had a chance to quiz Raphael about his cryptic words, Michael spoke up.

“Now that everyone is here, please gather at the table. It’s time for the official verification of the relic.”

Dante noted that Mal and another Slayer, Caleb, had arrived. Dante rubbed the back of his neck. The last time he’d spoken to Caleb, he was sure the words ‘fuck off and die’ and ‘eat satanic goat shit’ were included. Although it was long enough ago he couldn’t remember which one of them said what first.

Caleb gave him a nod from across the table as he took a seat, and Dante nodded back. He was going to assume Caleb was letting bygones be bygones until he heard otherwise.

Amir clutched his hand, and Dante smiled down at him. He brought entwined fingers to his lips and kissed Amir’s knuckles. Leaning down, he whispered next to Amir’s ear, “How are you holding up?”

“I can’t believe this is real,” Amir whispered back. “But it’s so cool. The angelic texts were always my favorite to work on.”

Dante pursed his lips. “I’m trying not to be irrationally jealous, seeing as there aren’t any gargoyle passages for you to moon over.”

Amir let out an inelegant snort then slapped a hand over his mouth. His cheeks turned scarlet, and Dante quickly guided him to one of the oak craftsman chairs. His own sweet angel had to be more nervous than a demon in a sea salt factory.

Gradually, everyone took a seat at the table, and Michael retrieved a two-foot-long, cylindrical container made of gold and studded with sapphires from his shimmering white robe. He set the capsa on the table then unscrewed the top, pulling from the case a scroll. It had been centuries, but Dante recognized it as the list of holy relics.

He hadn’t been at a verification ceremony since the rod of Aaron had been rescued from the clutches of a Rogue who had once been a close friend. His gut tightened. The source of his anger, his compulsion to fight this scourge on his own terms, had begun then and only grown since.

Dante glanced at his wide-eyed mate, seemingly stunned at what must be like a dream come true for a man who had decided to dedicate his life to studying ancient teachings.

Michael placed a gold bar at the top of the scroll to hold it in place, then held the corner of the bottom, the feather pen—which was crafted from one of his own wings—poised to add the relic on the list.

“Amir? Would you please stand?”

Amir swallowed hard, stumbling on a chair leg as he rose, Dante placing a hand at the small of his back in support.

Michael smiled. “Present the relic then pass it to Uriel so we can begin the verification.”

Everyone leaned forward, Dante certain that they were all experiencing the same anticipation as him. As a gargoyle, the only time he ever had the opportunity to see a true relic was at a ceremony such as this. One of his great regrets was that the lair in Morrocco was where the Ark of the Covenant was verified. He would’ve loved to have seen such an amazing piece of history. The archangels didn’t run a museum, so if you missed out, that was the end of it.

Amir pulled the box from his jeans, the mosaic gemstone pattern familiar to Dante. He’dseen similar patterns used in décor and furniture back when he was hanging out in Athens during the time of the Byzantine Empire. As soon as Amir lifted the top of the box, revealing the heavy black signet ring with the hexagram pattern, a soft chorus of ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ filled the room. Dante surprised himself by ‘ooing’ right along with them.

Everyone took a moment to admire the Seal as it was passed to them until the ring made its way to Michael. He pulled it from the box, turning it over in his hand with a soft smile. Dante imagined he must be bringing up the millenniums’ old memory of when he originally gave it to King Solomon.

Once he tucked it away in his robe, he signed the scroll which was passed around for each signature of those present. When it reached Amir, he glanced around, his brow creased.

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