Page 37 of Uriel
As dawn begins to break, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold, I make a decision. Prophecy or no prophecy, apocalypse or no apocalypse, I choose this. I chooseher. I choose love.
As if sensing my thoughts, Emilia stirs beside me, her eyes fluttering open. For a moment, confusion clouds her features as she takes in our close proximity. Then, a soft smile spreads across her face, chasing away the last vestiges of sleep.
“Good morning,” she murmurs, her voice husky from slumber.
“Good morning,” I reply, unable to keep the warmth from my tone.
We lie there for a moment, just looking at each other, the air between us charged with unspoken emotions. There’s so much I want to say, so much I need her to understand. But before I can find the words, a sharp knock at the door breaks the spell.
“Rise and shine, lovebirds!” Raphael’s cheerful voice calls through the door. “We’ve got an apocalypse to stop!”
Emilia chuckles, the sound sending a warmth through my chest. “I guess that’s our cue,” she says, reluctantly pulling away.
As we prepare to face the day, to dive back into the chaos of our mission, I steal one last glance at Emilia. She catches my eye, a question in her gaze.
“Ready?” she asks, and I know she’s asking about more than just leaving the room.
I nod, feeling more certain than I have in eons. “Ready,” I confirm.
Together, we step out to face whatever comes next. And for the first time in my long, long existence, I feel truly, completely alive.
CHAPTER 19
Uriel
The neon signof the DeLux Café flickers ominously as I approach, casting an eerie red glow over the gathering crowd. It’s Wednesday night—speed dating night—and the air thrums with an energy that’s equal parts excitement and trepidation. If only this crowd knew the true stakes of tonight’s encounters.
Helena’s voice crackles through the earpiece I’m wearing, a technology I’m still not entirely comfortable with. “Alright, team. Places everyone. Operation ‘Love Tap’ is a go.”
I suppress a sigh at the ridiculous code name she’s insisted on using. “Helena, is this really neces?—”
“Shh!” she hisses. “Code names only, remember? You’re ‘Halo Boy’.”
This time, I don’t bother hiding my exasperation. “I amnotresponding to that.”
Emilia’s soft chuckle comes through the comm, a sound that sends an unexpected warmth through my chest. “Come on, ‘Halo Boy’. Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“I must have left it in my other jacket,” I mutter, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. Despite the gravity of our situation, I find myself fighting back a smile.
“Focus, people,” Helena cuts in. “We’ve got a Horseman to trap and an apocalypse to prevent. Now, let’s run through the plan one more time.”
As Helena begins her recap, I scan the crowd gathering outside the café. Humans of all shapes and sizes mill about, laughing nervously and checking their reflections in shop windows. Among them, I spot several beings that are decidedly not human—a vampire trying (and failing) to look casual, a werewolf fidgeting with what’s clearly a flea collar, and is that a banshee in the corner practicing pickup lines?
I watch as the doors to the café open, and the crowd begins to file in. Raphael, posing as a waiter, gives me a subtle nod as he ushers people to their tables.
“Here… we… go,” Helena says, and I spot her weaving through the crowd. She’s almost unrecognizable in a sleek black dress and vibrant red wig.
As if on cue, a towering figure enters the café. Even in his human guise, War exudes an aura of barely contained violence. His eyes scan the room, a predatory gleam in their depths. I tense, ready to intervene, but Helena’s voice stops me.
“Easy, Halo Boy. Let him get comfortable first. Remember, it’s all about the element of surprise.”
I force myself to relax, watching as War takes a seat at one of the small tables. Helena saunters over, a coy smile on her lips as she introduces herself as his first “date” of the evening.
Helena expertly plays her role, laughing at something War has said. I recall her earlier briefing. Lucifer should be arriving any minute for his ‘business meeting’ about expanding the café.
Right on cue, the door swings open again. Lucifer strides in, looking every inch the successful businessman in his tailored suit. Only the faint red glow in his eyes betrays his true nature.
I observe, fascinated despite myself, as Helena works her magic. She leans in close to War, her hand “accidentally” brushing his arm as she laughs at his jokes. Even from across the room, I can see the way War preens under her attention.
