Page 32 of Uriel
“Something smells amazing,” I say, peering over his shoulder at the stove. “I didn’t know you could cook.”
Raphael winks at me, stirring a pot of what looks like the most decadent pasta sauce I’ve ever seen. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, my dear. Being an archangel comes with a fewunexpected perks—eternal life, divine power,andthe ability to make a mean carbonara.”
A laugh bubbles up in my throat, the sound surprising even me. When was the last time I laughed like that? Before all this apocalypse business, certainly.
“Where’s everyone else?” I ask, glancing around the spacious kitchen.
“Helena’s mixing drinks in the living room,” Raphael says, a fond smile playing on his lips. “And Uriel... well, last I saw, he was having an existential crisis on the balcony.”
I feel a pang of concern at that. “Should I go check on him?”
Raphael shakes his head, his expression softening. “Give him a moment. This can’t be easy for him, you know. The thought of working with Lucifer... it goes against everything Uriel has stood for millennia. He’s the Archangel of Chastity, the embodiment of divine purity. And now he’s considering allying with the Prince of Lies to prevent the apocalypse. It’s bound to be tearing him apart inside.”
I nod, understanding all too well. “I can’t even imagine how conflicted he must feel.”
“Exactly,” Raphael sighs. “Uriel’s always seen the world in black and white, good and evil. But this situation... it’s all shades of gray. He’s being forced to confront the idea that sometimes, to do what’s right, you might have to work with those you’ve always considered wrong. It’s shaking the very foundations of his beliefs.”
“Now,” Raphael says, breaking me from my reverie, “make yourself useful and take these to the table, would you?” He hands me a basket of warm, fragrant bread. “And Emilia? Try not to worry too much. Uriel may be stubborn and set in his ways, but he’s stronger than he looks. He’ll be alright.”
With a grateful smile, I take the bread and head towards the dining room. As I set the basket on the table, I hear the clink of glasses from the adjacent living room.
“Ah, there you are!” Helena’s voice rings out. I turn to see her sauntering towards me, two colorful cocktails in hand. “I was beginning to think you’d gotten cold feet about our little plan.”
I accept the offered drink, eyeing it warily. “What is this?”
Helena grins, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I call it ‘Apocalypse Now’. Don’t worry, it won’t kill you. Probably.”
I take a cautious sip and am pleasantly surprised. It’s fruity with a spicy kick, and deceptively strong. “This is... actually really good.”
“Of course it is,” Helena says with a wink. “My mixology skills are quite legendary. Now come, sit. We have much to discuss.”
As we settle onto the plush sofa, I can’t help but marvel at the surreal turn my life has taken. A week ago, my biggest concern was navigating hospital bureaucracy. Now I’m sipping cocktails with a half-demon, planning to thwart the end of the world.
“So,” I say, trying to sound casual, “this plan of yours. Are you sure it’ll work?”
Helena’s smile turns predatory. “Oh, darling. When I put my mind to something, italwaysworks. But perhaps we should wait for your angelic boyfriend before we get into the details.”
I feel heat rise to my cheeks at her words. “He’s not my... we’re not...”
“Not yet, maybe,” Helena says with a knowing look. “But trust me, honey. I’ve been around long enough to recognize the signs. That archangel is head over wings for you.”
Before I can formulate a response, the balcony door slides open, and Uriel steps inside. My breath catches in my throat at the sight of him. He’s shed his usual formal attire for a simple white shirt and dark slacks, and the fading sunlight catches inhis hair like a halo. For a moment, I can almost see the angel beneath the human facade.
Our eyes meet, and I feel a jolt of... something. Electricity? Recognition? Whatever it is, it makes my heart race and my palms sweat.
Helena looks between us, a smirk playing on her lips. “Well, now that we’re all here, shall we eat? I’m starving, and Raphael’s been torturing us with the smell of his cooking all evening.”
As if on cue, Raphael emerges from the kitchen, a steaming dish in his hands. “Dinner,” he announces with a flourish, “is served.”
We gather around the table, an unlikely group united by circumstance and an impending apocalypse. As Raphael serves the pasta and Helena refills our drinks, I can’t help but feel a strange sense of belonging. These celestial beings, with all their power and ancient knowledge, are becoming... friends.
“Alright,” Helena says once we’ve all settled in and taken a few bites. “Let’s get down to business, shall we? We have an apocalypse to prevent and a speed dating event to crash.”
Uriel sets down his fork, his expression serious. “Helena, are you certain this plan of yours will work? The stakes are... rather high.”
Helena’s eyes gleam with excitement as she leans forward. “Here’s what we’re going to do,” she begins. “We’re going to use Uncle Lucy’s own pride against him, and War’s ego as bait. The DeLux Café hosts a speed dating night every week. We’ll create a profile for War on their app, something he can’t resist—all about chaos and destruction, his favorite things.”
She pauses, grinning mischievously. “I’ll pose as a potential date. Trust me, I know exactly what buttons to push to get his attention. Meanwhile, we’ll lure Lucifer there with the promise of a business meeting about expanding the café.”
