Page 30 of Uriel
She nods, a small smile tugging at her lips despite the lingering tension in her posture. “Yeah, just... processing. I thought I knew Raphael from work, but seeing him like this, as yourbrother... it’s a lot to take in.”
I can’t help but chuckle at that. “Few things about Raphael are as one might expect. Though I’m beginning to think the same could be said for you...”
Emilia’s smile widens a bit.
We settle onto one of the sofas, Emilia pressed close to my side. Raphael takes a seat across from us, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his expression wavering between curiosity and concern.
“Alright, Uri,” he says. “What’s going on? It’s not like you to drop in unannounced. Literally.”
I take a deep breath, wondering where to even begin. “The world is in danger, Raphael. More danger than it’s faced since the Great Flood.”
Raphael’s eyebrows shoot up. “That’s quite a statement, brother. What exactly are we talking about here?”
“The apocalypse,” Emilia says softly, speaking for the first time since we arrived. “Or at least, the potential for it. The barriers between realms are weakening. Hell is... leaking, for lack of a better term.”
Raphael’s gaze sharpens as he turns to Emilia, really seeing her for the first time. “And you know this how, exactly?”
I feel Emilia tense beside me, uncertainty flickering across her face. I give her hand another reassuring squeeze before addressing my brother. “Emilia is... special, Raphael. She’s part of a prophecy, one that might be the key to stopping all of this.”
“A prophecy?” Raphael leans back, running a hand through his hair—a gesture so human it momentarily throws me. “Oh, Uri. What have you gotten yourself into this time?”
Before I can respond, Helena returns, carrying a tray laden with a steaming teapot and an assortment of cups. She sets it down on the coffee table, then perches on the arm of Raphael’s chair, her silver eyes moving between Emilia and me with undisguised curiosity.
“So,” she says, her voice carrying a hint of an accent I can’t quite place. “Are you going to introduce us properly, Rafa? Or should I just keep calling them ‘the stuffy one’ and ‘the pretty human’ in my head?”
Raphael chuckles, wrapping an arm around her waist. “My apologies, love. Helena, this is my brother Uriel, Archangel of Chastity—though as I mentioned, that title might be up for debate.” He winks at me, and I feel my cheeks heat again. “And this is Emilia, my coworker, and apparently now part of a world-saving prophecy. Uriel, Emilia, this is Helena. My partner and the light of my existence.”
Helena rolls her eyes fondly at Raphael’s flowery introduction. “Charmed, I’m sure,” she says, a hint of sarcasm in her tone. “Now, what’s this about the world ending? Because I had plans this weekend, and I’d rather not have to cancel them for the apocalypse.”
Despite the gravity of the situation, I find myself fighting back a smile. I can see why Raphael is drawn to her—she has a spark, a vitality that complements my brother’s more laid-back nature perfectly.
“It’s a long story,” I begin, but Emilia cuts in.
“Actually,” she says, a hint of steel in her voice that makes me glance at her in surprise, “before we get into all that, I have a question.” She turns to Helena, her gaze direct and unwavering. “What exactly are you? Because I’m getting the distinct impression that you’re not entirely human.”
A tense silence falls over the room. I hold my breath, worried that Emilia’s bluntness might have offended Helena. But to my surprise, the woman throws back her head and laughs, a rich, melodious sound that seems to lighten the very air around us.
“Oh, I like her,” Helena says, grinning at Raphael. “She’s got spirit.” Turning back to Emilia, she gives a little mock bow. “You’re right, darling. I’m not human. Not entirely, anyway. I’m what you might call a half-breed. My mother was human, my father... decidedly less so.”
Emilia leans forward, fascination overriding her earlier wariness. “What do you mean? What was your father?”
Helena’s smile turns a bit wicked. “Well, since we’re all being so honest here... he was a demon. One of the higher-ups in Hell’s hierarchy, in fact. Which makes Lucifer my dear uncle.”
Emilia stiffens beside me, her grip on my hand tightening almost painfully. “Lucifer?” she whispers. “As in, the Devil?”
Raphael sighs, shooting Helena a reproachful look. “Love, perhaps we could have eased into that revelation a bit more gently?”
Helena shrugs, unrepentant. “Why? It’s the truth. And from the sounds of it, we don’t have time for gentle revelations. Not if the world really is ending.”
Her words snap us all back to the gravity of the situation. I clear my throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “Helena’s right. We don’t have time for niceties. The situation is dire, and we need all the help we can get.”
Over the next hour, Emilia and I take turns explaining everything that’s happened—the prophecy, the earthquakes,Azrael’s visit, and our encounter with War. As we speak, I watch Raphael and Helena’s expressions shift from disbelief to concern to outright alarm.
When we finish, a heavy silence falls over the room. Raphael is the first to break it, letting out a low whistle. “Well, brother, when you decide to break the rules, you certainly don’t do it by halves, do you?”
I feel a flash of irritation at his flippant tone, but before I can respond, Helena speaks up, her voice uncharacteristically serious.
“Wait, go back a bit,” she says, leaning forward intently. “You said it was War behind all this? As in, the Horseman?”
