Page 11 of Uriel
I nod, trying to focus on the task at hand and not the lingering warmth from the way he said my name. “Right. So, what do we know?”
Uriel’s expression turns grim. “The prophecy speaks of a union between heaven and earth to seal a breach and preventHell’s armies from invading this realm. But I refuse to accept that at face value.”
His jaw clenches, a determined glint in his eye. “There must be another way. Prophecies are often metaphorical, open to interpretation. I’ve been researching alternative methods while you were unconscious, exploring every possible loophole.”
I lean forward, intrigued. “What have you found?”
“There are mentions in ancient texts of rituals, powerful spells that might serve our purpose without resorting to... more personal measures.” He clears his throat, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “I believe with further study, we can find a solution that doesn’t require any sort of carnal union or marriage bond.”
The relief in his voice is tangible, and I feel an answering wave of my own. The idea of being cosmically bound to someone I’ve spent most of my time arguing with is... unsettling, to say the least.
“That’s... good,” I say cautiously. “But are you sure it’ll work? I mean, if the prophecy specifically calls for a union...”
Uriel’s eyes flash with that stubborn determination I’ve seen so many times at the hospital. “I am the Archangel of Chastity,” he says firmly. “I’ve upheld that vow for millennia. I won’t abandon it now, not even in the face of apocalypse. We will find another way.”
I nod slowly, trying to ignore the tiny part of me that feels... disappointed? No, that can’t be right. I push the confusing emotion aside, focusing on the task at hand.
“Okay,” I say. “So what’s our next move? How can I help with this research?”
Uriel seems to relax slightly at my willingness to cooperate. “I have an extensive library of occult texts. Many are in ancient languages, but I can translate as needed. Your perspective as a human might prove valuable in deciphering some of the more obscure passages.”
I can’t help but smile at that. “Look at us, working together without arguing. Maybe the apocalypse isn’t all bad.”
The corner of Uriel’s mouth twitches in that almost-smile. “Indeed. Though I wouldn’t go celebrating just yet. We have a long road ahead of us.”
I take a deep breath, trying to center myself when a thought occurs to me. “Wait, shouldn’t your siblings be helping with this? I mean, if the fate of the world is at stake...”
Uriel’s expression closes off so fast it’s like shutters slamming down. “That won’t be necessary,” he says stiffly. “We are more than capable of handling this ourselves.”
I raise an eyebrow at his sudden shift in demeanor. “Okay, touchy subject. Got it.” There’s clearly some family drama there.
“For now,” Uriel continues, ignoring my comment, “I believe our best course of action is to stay here and monitor the situation. If our... proximity is indeed affecting the seismic activity, it’s safest for everyone if we remain together.”
The thought of being cooped up here indefinitely, alone with Uriel, stirs a whirlwind of emotions within me—apprehension, certainly, but also a strange flutter of... anticipation? I push that feeling aside, focusing on practicalities.
“What about my job? My apartment? I can’t just disappear.”
“Already taken care of,” Uriel says smoothly. “I’ve arranged for an extended leave of absence from the hospital, citing medical reasons. As for your living situation, I took the liberty of having some of your belongings brought here.”
I blink, torn between gratitude and indignation. “You went into… my… apartment?”
“Isentsomeone,” he clarifies. “I assure you, your privacy was respected as much as possible given the circumstances.”
I want to argue, to rail against the high-handedness of it all. But I’m too exhausted, physically and emotionally, to summon the energy. Instead, I just nod.
“Fine,” I say. “But we’re going to need to set some ground rules if we’re going to be living together. And I want regular updates on what’s happening in the city. Just because we’re stuck here doesn’t mean I’m going to stop caring about the people who need help.”
Uriel studies me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he nods. “Very well. I can agree to those terms. We’ll establish a set of guidelines for our... cohabitation, and I’ll ensure you receive regular reports on the city’s status.”
I feel some of the tension leave my shoulders. At least we’re on the same page about this much. “Thank you,” I say, meaning it.
“Now,” Uriel continues, rising from his seat, “you should eat something. I’ve arranged dinner.”
I want to argue that I’m not hungry, but my stomach betrays me with a growl. “I guess I could eat,” I concede. “But first, could you show me where my things are? I’d kill for a shower and some clean clothes.”
“Of course,” he says, gesturing for me to follow him. As we make our way back upstairs, I can’t help but wonder what I’ve gotten myself into. Living with an archangel, researching ancient prophecies, trying to prevent the apocalypse... it’s like something out of a bizarre dream.
But as I glance at Uriel’s profile, his jaw set with determination, I realize this is all too real. And whether I like it or not, we’re in this together now.
