Days had gone by. Gabriël wasn't entirely sure how many, as he didn't know how long he had been unconscious after Michael stabbed him. When he had regained consciousness, he'd been back in his cell in the catacombs. Chained up once more, like a dangerous dog that had to be kept away from everyone else. Michael had been there, together with Raphael.

"You have no one to blame but yourself," he had coldly said to Gabriël.

"No, Michael, this is on you. You, so high and mighty on your balcony, you've forgotten what it's like. To feel what I have felt these past weeks. You've deprived yourself of every good feeling ever since he left you, and you've allowed your heart to turn to stone. But mine is burning with a fire that will never die. I will find her. We will be together again. And you will pay for everything you have done to us. Even if I have to descend to the Circles to make sure of it, you will pay!"

The brief flash of torture in Michael's eyes was seared in Gabriël's memory, but he didn't care if he hurt him. Had Michael truly been his friend, he would never have broken him like this. Only when he was gone did the Archangel break down over his lost love. Raphael had stayed behind, and Gabriël had told him everything. The physician had been horrified and dumbstruck upon hearing all Gabriël, Joan, and Michael, too, had kept hidden.

"I will speak with Michael. But I make no promises," he had assured Gabriël.

But neither he nor Michael had graced him with their presence again. He had not expected Michael to return so soon or give Raphael permission to visit. Not when the Lord Protector was hellbent on punishing and breaking him. But Gabriël refused to give up so easily.
He examined every corner, every crevice of his cell, day in and day out, hoping to find something that could help him escape. It seemed impossible to do so from the inside, though. Still, he persevered, tracing the mortar of the walls for what felt like the hundredth time.

"That won't help you get out of here."

Gabriël spun round to face whoever had spoken, but there was no one there. Had he imagined it? Was he losing his mind?

"There is a way to break out if that's what you really want," said the deep male voice again.

"Who said that? Where are you?" Gabriël moved beneath the low flame of the torch on the wall, searching for the man who had somehow slipped past the guards.

"I'm surprised you don't remember, Gabriël. I would've thought that the little voice that's been keeping you company since the attack at the Gates would've sounded familiar to you."

It then dawned on Gabriël; the man's voice came from inside of him. The demon who took over his body was speaking to him. And familiar... Yes. There was something about the voice that made him recall someone from the past. Someone he believed had been destroyed.

"What do you want from me?" he demanded, clenching his fists.

"From you?" the voice replied with an amused tone. "Nothing at all. I merely wish to help you escape from your current predicament. And to help you return to your lover. That is what, or better, who you want, no?"

"Why would you want to help me?"

"Because I am trying to find her as well. She's in danger. I want her safe again, with you."

"If she's in danger, it's because she's hunted by your kind," Gabriël sneered back.

"The danger is closer to home. The next time you see Michael and Raphael, you ask them what her blood showed them."

"Joan's blood? I don't understand."

"You will. They might have been your friends once, but not anymore."

"Is that what you are to me?" Gabriël scoffed. "My friend? You, who's been torturing me from the inside, causing me to harm others?"

"We used to be friends," said the demon sharply. "Dare I say it, I even considered you my brother once. And I am genuinely sorry that I had to take this course of action, but there was no other way to get to you. I needed you to suffer some pain because I wanted to see if Michael had learned anything from the past. It grieves me to see he has not. He has betrayed you like he betrayed me all those centuries ago."

"Who are you? Tell me!"

"I am he they called Star of the Morning."

Gabriël gasped and stumbled back. He shook his head in disbelief. It couldn't be true.

"We shall see each other soon, my old friend. Very soon."

The demon slumbered again, leaving Gabriël alone with a reeling mind. If this demon was truly the Archangel he once knew, the darkness was even more powerful than they had realised. He had to get out of here and find Joan before she too fell in its grasp. If that meant confronting Michael again... so be it.

***

Grigori watched from the shadows as his Master spoke to Gabriël through their connected minds. Even after all this time, the monk was awestruck by the Devil's prowess. And he knew this was only a mere fraction of his true potential. He did not dare to imagine what the Prince of Hell could accomplish if he used all the terrifying might of the Circles.
Suddenly, the Master's body slumped a little in his chair. Grigori sprang forth from his hiding place, eager to assist. He helped his lord up and filled a goblet of wine.

"Grigori?" The Master's obsidian eyes rested on him. "Why have you come back? Do you have something to report?"

"I do, my Lord." Grigori knelt. "I have found the girl. She is in the Nephilim Sanctum at the Lago di Resia."

"Resia? I wasn't aware there even was a Sanctum."

"From what I could tell, the church that used to stand there still does, but it is concealed underwater with illusions. Only extremely powerful magicians can cast and maintain such a spell. It will be... challenging to get to Joan."

"Who inhabits the Resia Sanctum?" 

"This order is under the leadership of Anne Boleyn and her husband, Thomas Wyatt. He was the magician that fought against Countess Bathory. The are four others. Two men; Juan Ponce de Leon and Richard the Lionheart, both fierce warriors. The Spaniard is with Olympe de Gouges, whom I believe is of little worth. But King Richard's wife, Hypatia, is a sorcerer like Wyatt, and a healer, too. I have no doubt their combined magic is keeping the Sanctum safe."

"Hmm... Good work, Grigori. Return to Resia and watch them. When you see Joan outside the boundaries of the Sanctum, you will inform me at once. And tell Borgia what you learned before you leave. He will want to know who dared to challenge him."

"Yes, Master. May I ask, what of Gabriël?"

"The seed of doubt has been planted. He will join us of his own free will when he discovers the truth. And when Joan follows him here, we can finally begin our endgame. Gabriël and Joan will play their part, becoming the instruments of my revenge on the Lord Protector. Michael will suffer and know genuine pain, at last."

Grigori remained silent, wondering at the sudden change in the Master's voice. Whenever he spoke of Michael, it had always been with a hint of sadness. But now, he spoke with pure anger and hatred. It frightened Grigori. Having the Devil as an enemy is something he did not even wish on his own foes. 

***

Thomas Wyatt stepped through the portal into the cloud-shaped mist. He had let Peter know he was coming, so the old man had shielded his arrival. They could not allow any spirits using the portal to return to Earth. A single light appeared before him, guiding Thomas through the mist to Peter's cottage. The Keeper of the Gates was already waiting for him at the door.

"Thomas, dear boy, good to see you again." Peter greeted him warmly. "Come in, please."

Thomas raised a questioning brow when he found they were not alone. Two young girls were seated at the table and rose eagerly when he entered. They seemed vaguely familiar.

"I'm not sure if you know Cate and Marina," said Peter, closing the door behind him. "I've asked them to come, as I surmised you're here because of a mutual friend."

"How is she?" asked the eldest. "Is Joan all right? Is she safe?"

"For Heaven's sake, Cate, let the man sit first," scolded the other girl.

"It's okay," said Thomas, taking his seat at the table. "She's well, staying in our Sanctum. We found her in time, thanks to your warning, Peter."

"What do you mean by that?" Marina looked from Peter to Thomas.

"Whenever an angel is cast out, they risk falling prey to demons roaming the Mortal Realm," explained Peter. "As Keeper of the Gates, I know of everyone coming into Heaven and going out again. I always alert the Nephilim Order closest to the Fallen Angel to get them to safety. An angel is a prize for the creatures of darkness and must never fall into their hands."

"They had already found her," said Thomas. "As I said, we got there just in time. But that's not why I came. I need to know more about what happened. Why did Michael cut Joan's wings?"

The girls exchanged a quick glance and then looked at Peter. But the old man appeared hesitant to speak.

"What did she tell you?" he asked Thomas

"That she and Michael were always fighting, and he grew tired of her questioning him."

"You don't believe her?"

"Not for a second. We can all agree Michael isn't the easiest person to be around, but he wouldn't raise his sword solely on that ground. And the demons who were waiting for her were of the elite; the Borgia Bastard, the witch Bathory, even the Prince of Wallachia, a Fallen Angel himself, as you well know."

The girls gasped, but Thomas paid no heed to them. 

"If you know anything," he continued, "anything at all that could help us keep Joan safe, that could help me keep my order and my wife safe, then please, tell me."

Peter sighed and nodded before looking at the girls.

"Tell Thomas whatever you can," he said. "Raphael is on his way as we speak. I alerted him you were coming, Thomas, and he wants to speak with you about Joan as well. I shall return to my duties and cloud you all from Michael's gaze. You needn't worry."

The old man left the trio alone. They sat around the table, silently waiting until Raphael arrived. The tension was palpable. When the Archangel finally arrived, he wasted no time and told Thomas everything that had occurred prior to Joan's fall. The more he learned, the more Thomas feared that the girl he and his family were safeguarding would surely lead to their doom.

***

Anne waited in the comfort of her bedroom for her husband to return. She always worried when he was away from her and sought to distract herself by reading some poems he'd written to her over the years. It really was no wonder he was a sorcerer - his skill with words and phrases was pure magic. When she finally heard his footsteps in the hallway, she dropped the bound book to the floor. She walked into his arms as soon as he opened the door.

"I wasn't gone for that long, my dear." Thomas kissed the top of her head.

"Always too long." Anne backed away but remained in his embrace. "Did you learn something?"

"Yes." Her husband's smile dropped instantly. "It's bad, Anne. Much worse than Joan made us believe."

They shut the door so nobody would disturb them, and Thomas told Anne what Joan's friends, Cate and Marina, and Raphael had told him in Peter's cottage. She listened intently, eyes widening with every word Thomas spoke. Her mind was reeling by the time he finished. She let out her breath, reclining in her seat to let it all sink in. 

"I don't believe this... Joan and Gabriël? How is such a thing possible? I thought Archangels couldn't even feel love and desire. They were never human like we were, so I didn't think they were actually capable of experiencing anything more than friendship with someone."

"Maybe they do possess these emotions but just never knew how to express them properly," offered Thomas. "Time and being around angels in the Vale who lived human lives could have allowed them to grasp the concept better. And there are the rules to consider as well. The Archangels are equal to Michael in standing even though he's on top of the food chain. He'll keep them on a tighter leash than the others to keep the Vale from falling into anarchy."

"It would explain why he banished Joan and imprisoned Gabriël instead of allowing them to come down to the Mortal Realm to join the Nephilim."

Anne looked back up at Thomas to see what he thought of all of this. Only then did she notice his jaw stood hard. And he kept rubbing the tip and nail of his left hand's middle finger. He only did that when he was nervous.

"Thomas? There's something else, isn't there?" 

"Yes. Something that changes everything we ever thought we knew and puts us all in great danger."

***

Turmoil. That's all Michael sensed within him. Feelings he had suppressed centuries ago were wreaking havoc on his being. The excruciating past had left a wound in his heart that had never healed. Gabriël's betrayal added salt to that wound, making it fester once more. It was the second time that a fellow Archangel had turned on him, using love as an excuse.
Love... The very word left a vile taste in Michael's mouth. He hated it. Spat at it. Love was celebrated in stories and songs, yet was the most cruel mistress and villain of life. It had stripped him of everything he once held dear, clawing at his heart until nothing but a bleeding, hollow shell remained. And yet, at night, when he lay alone in his bed with nothing but silver moonbeams shining on the space beside him, he yearned to hear the loving whispers again, to feel a lover's kiss and touch.
Michael shook his head wildly. No, he couldn't do this. He had promised himself to never fall for that deathtrap again, no matter how loudly the siren called for him. And besides, there was a more pressing issue to attend to. He had to focus on Gabriël. Make him forget about what had happened. Make him forget about her. 

If Joan is eradicated from his mind, Gabriël can still be saved, pondered Michael as he descended the stairs of his Villa. I will keep him close to me and show him the light once again. Neither the darkness nor that hussy will lay claim on him. I will make sure of that.

As he neared the catacombs, Michael noticed Raphael was already waiting for him. He groaned silently, wishing he hadn't told Raphael about what he intended to do. The physician approached as soon as he saw Michael.

"We need to talk."

"There is nothing to talk about, Raphael. I kept delaying what I should have done the moment we knew a demon had invaded Gabriël's mind. You cannot dissuade me now."

"Please listen to me for two seconds." Raphael grabbed Michael's arm to halt him. "Peter called me to meet with Thomas Wyatt. His order has Joan. She's in their Sanctum at the Lago di Resia."

"Why should I care who has the girl now?" reacted Michael. "She is no concern of mine."

"She should be, goddammit!"

"Raphael!"

"Borgia was waiting for Joan, Michael. He knew exactly where she was going to be and did not go after her alone. The Blood Countess was with him, among several other fierce opponents. The Nephilim barely got away. I know how you feel about Joan, but that such a strike force was waiting for her worries me greatly. Clearly, she is of greater value to the darkness than we realised."

"If Joan is at Resia, she is safe."

"For now, but we both know that Joan will not stay hidden for long. She'll plunge herself into danger. We must do something."

"What, exactly?" Michael demanded. "Allow her back here only because of a threat? I think not."

"You know damn well a Fallen Angel is worth something in the Circles. And with her co-"

"The Nephilim will be her guards from now on. They will ensure her safety and are trained to handle these situations. Or do you doubt their abilities?"

"No, of course not. All I am saying is we should help them. The Resia Sanctum will be a target now."

"Joan is not the first Fallen Angel they have harboured, and she will not be the last, I warrant. I will risk none of us helping those who so blatantly rebelled against us. And that is the last thing I say about it."

Michael snatched his arm away from Raphael and continued to the catacombs, ordering the sentries not to enter under any circumstances. He knew his friend was right, though. As strong as they were, with a mark on them, the Nephilim were in danger. They were going to need help. But not from him. 
As he neared Gabriël's cell, Michael heard Raphael come down the steps as well. At least he still remembered where his loyalties laid. Michael waited silently for Raphael to join him, nodding in gratitude for not abandoning him now, and then turned toward the cell.
Gabriël stood in the farthest corner, shrouded in shadows. He seemed to look up at their presence, but Michael couldn't tell for certain. Raphael entered the cell first, approaching Gabriël with caution.

"Are you so afraid of me, Raphael?"

The dark voice made Raphael stop in his tracks. Michael quickly drew closer, joining the other two Archangels inside.

"Of you, Gabriël? No," Raphael spoke calmly. "Would you mind stepping into the light for a moment?"

The dim flames of the torch danced on Gabriël's face as he moved toward it. His eyes were still blue, but there was something else about them. Michael had never in his long life seen Gabriël looking so... malevolent.
The physician drew closer to check Gabriël's wound, but the imprisoned Archangel was quick to react. He grabbed Raphael's wrist and spun him around, forcing his arm behind his back in an unyielding lock. Michael drew his sword and meant to attack, but Raphael raised his free hand to stop him. 

"Michael, no!" he yelled.

Gabriël remained behind Raphael, using him as a living shield. Michael lingered where he stood, eyes locked on Gabriël.

"Let go of Raphael," he ordered.

"Not until you tell me what Joan's blood results showed," said Gabriël.

Both Raphael and Michael froze. How could Gabriël possibly know this? Isabelle hadn't been allowed near him, so she couldn't have told him. 

"There was nothing," said Michael.

"You're lying! If I was ever your friend, you will tell me, Michael. Now."

The Lord Protector raised his sword higher. If only there was a chance to distract Gabriël, then this would all be over. He met Raphael's gaze, hoping to let the physician know he shouldn't panic, but he found Raphael looking back at him with a determined expression. Oh, he wouldn't!

"He deserves to know, Michael," said Raphael.

"We agreed he should not." Michael gritted his teeth. "Say nothing."

"Stop talking like I'm not right here!" shouted Gabriël. "Tell me!"

Michael shook his head at Raphael, but the physician ignored his silent plea and glanced over his shoulder.

"You are going to be a father, Gabriël."