Perhaps it was a trick of the reflecting moonlight on the lake. Perhaps it was only his imagination acting up because he was tired. But as soon as Grigori saw the winged figure appear in the sky above him, he knew the Master would want to know about it. He had barely seized into his pockets for the mirror he was given to communicate when the Prince of Hell suddenly stood at his side. With a finger to his lips, the man silenced Grigori before he could speak.

"Stay quiet, my friend. I am curious to see what Michael will do."

The pair watched the Lord Protector descend from the sky. He landed smoothly on the ground, folding his wings before his feet touched the grass, and strode towards the hidden entrance of the Sanctum. Grigori heard the Master hold his breath when the Archangel halted a few steps away from the veil that separated the human world from the Nephilim Sanctum below. Michael turned and seemed to look in their direction. Grigori saw his eyes narrow, focusing. Did he know they were watching? 
Cautiously, the servant glanced at his Master, catching a certain melancholy in those dark eyes. As if he was seeing a dear friend after being apart for years. Grigori knew they shared a history, but the Master had always made Michael to be a villain and traitor. Now, he was not so sure that was the entire story.
After what seemed like forever, the Lord Protector finally disappeared into the hidden tunnel. Grigori exhaled in relief, daring to breathe and move once more. That had been too close for comfort. 

"Master, how did you know?" he asked. "That Michael was on his way here, I mean?"

"I always know where he is," said the Master, his gaze still on the place where Michael had stood moments ago.

"Do you believe he has come to harm the girl?"

"He had no weapons on him. None that I saw, anyway. Most likely, Michael will try to get Gabriël back first. He doesn't realise he's wasting his time. Gabriël knows Michael will only offer death for his child. With me, there is life. His choice is already made." The Master faced Grigori. "Make sure you warn me when either Gabriël or Joan comes out of the Sanctum. This little talk with Michael might just be the final push they need to join us."

"Yes, Master."

Grigori bowed to the man in front of him before he vanished, just as swiftly as he had appeared. He stepped back, remaining hidden amongst leaves and shadows. Being alone didn't bother him. He had always preferred living a solitary life except... with them.
Knowing Alexandra and Alexei had enriched his life in a way that a thousand texts of wisdom ever could. He had loved them both. They'd been his dearest friends, but he saw the boy as a son. If only he could be sure Alexei had made it to the Heavens. His sisters and parents were imprisoned as slaves in the Circles, snatched up before they had reached the Gates to serve at every foul creature's behest. But Grigori had not seen the boy among them. It gave him hope. Hope that Alexei Nikolayevich Romanov, last Tsarevich of Imperial Russia, had at least found his peace.

***

Gabriël wandered the dimmed hallways of the Sanctum, restless and lost in thought. Anne had been kind enough to give him a room across from Joan's so he could be close to her. Close, but not with her. Pretences had to be kept for now. Only Anne and Thomas knew he was the father of Joan's baby, and Gabriël wasn't sure he wanted the other Nephilim to know. It might put them in more peril than they already were. He would have to discuss it with Joan. If she would only talk to him...
After they'd sent the message to Peter, they stayed a while in the library. Neither of them had said a word to the other. He had noticed Anne and Thomas eyeing them curiously, but they remained silent as well. When Peter wrote a quick reply that Raphael had received the message, Joan left, muttering a quick thank you and goodnight. Gabriël had followed her, but she stopped him outside her room, claiming she was tired and just wanted to sleep. Not wanting to press further, he had kissed her softly on her cheek and let her go. He had found some simpler modern clothes in the room, so he'd changed into a shirt and jeans before going for a walk to review their current situation.

Joan was so close, yet she seemed further away than ever before. She was wary of him. He couldn't blame her for it. If he had been stronger and stood up to Michael sooner, they would never have been separated. Perhaps they would still be in the Vale. Joan would have the support of her mother, and he would work with Raphael to find answers to the millions of questions he had now.
Instead, Joan felt like a stranger to him, and he had all but sold his soul to the Devil. The rune on his arm had stopped fading, leaving only the top part visible. The sight of it scared him. He hadn't completely forsaken himself, nor his vow, but it was only a matter of time now. Yet when he thought of the alternative, forsaking that part of himself seemed like a small prize to pay.

Gabriël's pondering led him to the hall. He hadn't noticed it before, but there was no ceiling, only water and fish. The hall stood where the nave of the old church had been before it was destroyed. The Nephilim had 'refurbished' it to their liking, keeping the open space above and adding the required rooms. A powerful incantation kept the water from crashing down on them, showing the extent of what mages like Thomas Wyatt and Hypatia could accomplish.
Just when Gabriël thought of asking them for help out of his pact with Lucifer, a white light nearly blinded him. It was only a brief flash, but it was long enough to leave him stunned for a few seconds. Then, he heard footsteps approaching fast. He turned to find Thomas running toward him.

"Gabriël! Good, you're here," he said, hardly out of breath.

"Thomas, that white light... Is it what I think it is?"

"Arrival of an Archangel, yes. Since you're already here, we can assume this visitor is less wanted. And has no sense of time whatsoever."

"Do you want to wait for the others?"

"I never had the pleasure to train with the Lord Protector in the Vale." Thomas gave Gabriël a sly grin. "I'm not letting Juan and Richard interrupt if this comes down to a fight."

He winked and unlocked the doors. As expected, Michael stood in the opening. Gabriël felt his skin crawl the moment he laid eyes on him. He knew Michael would try something to get him to come back, but it still shocked him the bastard would dare show his face.

"Goodnight, Sir Thomas. Forgive the intrusion at this late hour, but I am afraid it is necessary."

"I'm sure it is," Thomas said quietly as Michael walked past him and into the Sanctum.

Gabriël's balled fist trembled at his side. It took every bit of self-control not to strike Michael where he stood. 

"What do you want?" he demanded. 

"To speak with you. Privately." Michael glanced back at Thomas. "Is there anywhere we can go?"

Gabriël caught Thomas' expectant gaze. He seemed to wait for a signal on what to do. Despite the gnawing urge to tear Michael apart, Gabriël asked, "Do you mind if we go to the library, Thomas?" 

"Not at all. I'll be right outside if you need me."

Gabriël nodded in appreciation. It was Joan who needed them, though, and Thomas knew she was their top priority, not him. As he lead Michael to the library, Gabriël prayed the Nephilim would keep Joan away. If she discovered the man who took her wings was here, there was no telling what she would do.

***

The candles and fireplace in the library lit themselves when Gabriël and Michael stepped over the threshold. The Lord Protector closed the door behind him. He felt uncertain about how to proceed now that he was alone with Gabriel, especially after spotting the faded rune on the latter's arm. If the rune continued to disappear, there was nothing more he could do. Yet he refused to sit and watch idly as Gabriël chose the wrong path because of that damned girl.

I must try to make him see reason. For all our sakes. 

The Archangels faced each other in the middle of the room, on opposite sides of a mahogany desk. Gabriel stood defensive, arms crossed over his chest, and with a fierce defiant expression. This, again, stumped Michael. Never had he seen Gabriël like this. So strong, so determined, and so... powerful. If it wasn't because of a demon, he would've been in awe.

"I am glad to see you are all right," started Michael.

Gabriël gave no reply.

"I knew you would find your way here. You are... resourceful and... smart in that way."

Still no reply.

"It was still a dangerous move on your behalf. What if Borgia was waiting for you? What if he attacked you and -?"

"Why don't you just cut to the chase?" interrupted Gabriël. "Leaving the Vale unprotected for too long is a dangerous move on your behalf, and frankly, the sooner you're gone, the better. So say what you have to say and leave us the hell alone."

Michael stood perplexed at the haughty manner in which Gabriël spoke. He barely recognised the man standing in front of him.

"Very well then. I am here to ask you to come home."

Gabriël scoffed and said, "You don't ask, Michael, you demand. Getting what you want when you raise your voice. Treating us like ignorant puppies who come at your beck and call."

"That is not my intention. I am here to -"

"I know why you're here. And it will not happen, you hear me? You are staying away from Joan and away from my child."

"Are you honestly this foolish to believe that anything between the two of you is real? Can you truly not see you are under the influence of a powerful demon?"

"Lucifer is the only one who has told me the truth!"

"LightBringer is a figment of your imagination!"

Gabriël leaned on the desk, head bowed. When he raised his eyes, a shiver ran up Michael's spine. The way Gabriël glared it him... It was the same glare his lover had given him whenever they fought over the most trivial matters. 

"You are the greatest fool of the two of us, Michael," said Gabriël. "You've gone so deep in your deception that you believe your own fairy-tale. I can accept it must've hurt when you learned Lucifer loved another, but pain and jealousy are no excuse for deceiving us all and murdering an unborn child!"

"You know not of what you speak!" 

"Explain it to me, then! Because I have been trying extremely hard to convince myself that you're still a good man who values honour and friendship. But I can't ignore, nor forget, what Lucifer told me."

Michael placed his hands opposite Gabriël's. Even though he was certain Heaven's Fire had done its work, he was still fearful of seeing those demonic black eyes again.

"Have you considered that this demon controlled your thoughts and memories and could have taken LightBringer's form to gain your trust?" he tried. "To drive this wedge between us? To weaken us?"

Gabriël licked his lips before pressing them together. 

"I saw him, Michael," he said. "I met Lucifer where the Jordan flows into the Dead Sea. It really was him."

Michael backed away, shaking his head in disbelief. 

"That... is impossible. No, you are being deceived."

"For God's sake, why is it so difficult for you to accept the truth?" exclaimed Gabriël.

"It is not true!" yelled Michael, half-hysterical. "It cannot be! Heaven's Fire destroyed him! He died at my hand! I... I killed him."

His voice faltered. Even now, after so many years, his heart bled at the memory of that horrid day. Lucifer had been his first on so many things. His first friend, his first love, his first loss... and the first to fall at those scorching blue-white flames. He'd succumbed to the darkness so much that there was simply no way he could've survived that. 

"Whatever." Gabriel sighed and stepped around the desk. "I'm done trying to talk to you, Michael. Your ego and stubbornness have brought us to this, and they will continue to ruin you. I refuse to be your servant any longer, and I sure as hell won't cover for you anymore."

"Then why did you write a message to Raphael asking him to remain silent on the matter?"

Gabriël halted at his words. Michael leaned to his side a bit, capturing Gabriël's annoyed expression, and turned down lips. Was he vexed Raphael had shown him the note? Gabriël caught Michael look at him and faced him again. 

"If I could, I would speak up myself," he replied. "I know enough to present my case, and Raphael heard you admit to what you did to Marina's baby. The others would no longer accept you as Lord Protector, but without you, the Heavens will be an easy target. I will not endanger them and all the other souls and angels."

"Come back with me then," urged Michael. "You have my word that I will tell them everything. I will step down of my own accord if that is what you all want. I swear it. But if I can no longer lead us, you must take my place."

The words took Gabriël unaware. His narrowed eyes widened, and he gaped at Michael with an open mouth. 

"You want me to be Lord Protector?"

"What I want is for you to return home and take up your rightful place."

"My... Michael, I-I'm not a warrior. How can I -?"

"I will guide you. Teach you what you need to know. And the others will support you as well." Michael closed the distance between them. "I would not be suggesting this if I did not believe you worthy, Gabriël. You can do this."

He caressed his friend's jawline with the tip of his fingers. Gabriël's hand closed around his wrist. Blue eyes met his, silently begging him to stop. But he couldn't.

"You are a greater man than I will ever be and have earned your place as Lord Protector many times over," continued Michael. "If it had not been for you, I would not have survived and made it this far. Even now, I do not know how I make it through the day if you are not at my side. And I know we can never... I know you do not share my feelings. You deserve better than me, anyway. I am sorry for the mistakes I have made and for disappointing you. I promise you I will do whatever you say, accept any punishment, but do not ask me to leave you here. Please, I implore you; come home."

Gabriël seemed lost for words. He lowered his gaze. Michael believed to see a trace of doubt in his eyes and drew closer.

"Do what your heart tells you to do," he whispered. "You always let it guide you."

"My heart has brought me nothing but pain lately."

"Even so, you must follow it. You are the purest of us all, Gabriël."

"Is that what attracts you to me?"

"Among other things."

A pair of lapis lazuli gazed back up at Michael. He suddenly became very much aware that Gabriël was still holding his wrist. Surely he was sensing how erratically Michael's pulse thrummed. Standing this close to Gabriël, with his feelings at last laid bare... It was too much for Michael. He tried to release himself from Gabriël's grasp, but before Michael realised what was happening, Gabriël pulled him in and kissed him.
As soon as their lips touched, Michael recoiled instantly, pushing Gabriël away with a hand against his chest. He stared at him, bewildered at his action. Had Gabriël actually...? It couldn't have been more than a few seconds, but Michael was sure that it happened - Gabriël kissed him. Deep within him, Michael's heart was overjoyed. Yet his head urged him to think. 

"Why did you do that?" he asked. 

"I'm not sure," said Gabriël. "I just... wanted to."

Michael searched his eyes. There wasn't a hint of black in them. The demon hadn't returned, so Gabriël's actions were his own. Weren't they? 

"Perhaps it would be for the best," Gabriël spoke suddenly. "That I come back with you, I mean. Will you give me some time to think about your proposal?"

If the last five minutes hadn't happened, Michael would've thought nothing of this change of mind. But this behaviour, and that kiss... Michael glanced down at Gabriël's arm. If he returned to the Vale and took his place as Lord Protector, the rune should restore itself. Unless he returned for the wrong reasons.

"Very well," Michael agreed, avoiding eye contact. "I will return for your answer in three days. You will stay here in the meantime?"

"Yes, we're safest here. The Nephilim will guard Joan and will eliminate every threat."

"As long as she carries that thing, she is the threat, Gabriël. I wish you could see that."

"Michael, I'm not having this discussion again. If stepping down is a trick to get me out of the way so you can get to her -"

"No! No, my offer is sincere," said Michael hastily.

"Give me your word then that you will not harm her nor send anyone else to do the dirty work for you."

Michael bit his lip. He couldn't allow that child to be born. But neither could he jeopardise Gabriël's return to the Vale. He had no choice.

"You have my word," he said. "No harm will come to Joan."

"Or?" 

"Or... the baby."

Gabriël nodded and held out his arm to shake on their deal. Michael grasped him just above the wrist. Their runes touched. A jolt surged through Michael like electricity. Their eyes met again.
On an impulse, Michael pulled Gabriël to him and pressed his mouth on his without thinking. To his surprise, Gabriël didn't push him back as he had him. Instead, he shut his eyes and let Michael entangle his fingers in his hair. Michael dared to trace Gabriël's lips with his tongue, his desire urging him to taste more. To his astonishment, Gabriël allowed it and even reciprocated. A low but clearly discernible moan rose from deep within his throat as the tip of their tongues twirled around each other.
The sound made Michael regain his senses. He broke off their kiss, panting to catch his breath. He tried to make sense of what had happened, but couldn't. Not when the kiss yet lingered on his lips.

"Gabriël, will... you promise me to be careful?"

Gabriël gazed up at him.

"Of course, I will."

"I mean it." Michael cupped his face. "You mean more to me than you could ever realise. If any harm were to befall you -"

"Do not worry about me."

"Too late."

Michael brushed his mouth against Gabriël's cheek. The other man turned his head slightly, so their lips met again. One last deep gaze into each other's eyes. One final lingering touch.
The Archangels parted ways then, but Michael knew that of the two, only one had spoken from his heart and revealed what he had always kept hidden. And perhaps the other had played yet another risky move in this ever-growing game.

***

There weren't enough words to describe the rage within Joan. She'd woken up and found Anne in her room. When Joan'd asked what she was doing, Anne made up a weak excuse, saying she wanted to make sure Joan got plenty of rest. After pressing on, Anne'd finally admitted Michael had arrived in the Sanctum to speak with Gabriël.
Joan wanted to face the Lord Protector herself, but Anne had stopped her, telling her there was a way to know what was being said without interrupting the pair. She'd led Joan to a storage room next to the library where she carefully removed a brick that gave out inside the fireplace (Joan commented on the cliché, but Anne blamed Thomas for reading too many mystery novels). They had heard only bits and pieces of the conversation, but had seen everything. The discussion, the sudden change in Gabriël's attitude, and the kisses. Anne had held Joan in her arms to keep her from storming into the library, only letting go after both Archangels left.

Joan ran back to her room, crying angry tears. She shut the door and paced left to right, the back of her hand pressed against her lips to calm herself. The scene she witnessed had only convinced her more that the man claiming to be Gabriël wasn't really him. She briefly thought of the demon that had possessed Gabriël, but demons couldn't enter the Sanctum. Only those with angel blood could. Perhaps another Archangel had been exposed to a more improved version of the poison, allowing the demon to take full control and somehow change form. It was the only thing that made sense to her. Anything else was beyond what she could handle. 
Nearing footsteps resonated outside. Joan moved silently across the room and opened the door to a small gap. Gabriël – or the man pretending to be him – stood on the other side of the corridor. Her hand went to the sheathed baslard strapped around her shin. The stupid habit that Gabriël had always insisted on was proving more and more useful. She opened the door further, letting it creak, and waited.

"Joan? Are you okay?"

The minute the Archangel entered her room, Joan slammed the door closed. She kicked him against the back of his knees before he could turn around and swiftly put the dagger at his throat. She was going to get the truth by any means necessary.

"Joan, what are you doing?" he asked calmly.

"Time for you to tell me who you are and what you want from us. And no lies this time!"

Joan tried to sound as commanding as she could. But even when she was alive and at the head of her army, she'd been no good at it. That slight tremor in her voice was always there.

"I've told you who I am."

"You told me what you wanted me to believe," snapped Joan. "Now drop the act. I know you're not Gabriël. He wouldn't speak or act with Michael like I saw you do in the library."

She felt him stiffen. The blade pressed a little closer to his skin.

"Joan, I can explain. I'm doing this for us. I can get us both back in the Vale."

"You don't seriously expect me to believe that, do you?"

"It's the truth! Michael offered me his position as Lord Protector. If he steps down, I can try to undo what he's done and keep you and the baby out of harm's way. We'd be safe."

"And the kissing? What was that about?"

"Michael admitted to being in love with me when I was still his prisoner in the catacombs. I'm using that against him. I'm his weakness."

"Now I know you're a fraud! Gabriël would never use people like that!"

"All right, that's it!"

In the blink of an eye, the Archangel disarmed Joan, tossing the dagger to the other side of the room, and grabbed hold of her arm. He threw her on the floor but made her land on the carpet as soft as possible. Pinning one hand next to her body and the other above her head, he trapped Joan underneath him. 

"I'm getting tired of trying to convince you I'm Gabriël," he spoke with an angry undertone.

"You son of a bitch, get off me!" Joan struggled and kicked her legs, but he didn't move an inch.

"You have a birthmark on your lower back, the shape of a lily. Only your family knows this; among them, only your mother knows the exact location. And when you feel warm or say you smell smoke, I know something has made you think of the pyre. I know you're thinking of your death when your ankle itches where the fire touched you first. The scars from the torture you endured have healed on your body, but not in your soul. You were reminded of them when we started our affair."

Joan stopped fighting him as his words sunk in.

"After we slept together the second time, you told me of a girl named Céleste, who taught you how to make love to a man. And I told you of the exemption Archangels get on the rules that forbid all in the Vale from being with someone they love."

He sat back on his knees, helping Joan sit up but never letting go of her hands.

"We kissed for the first time in the Hospitium after the attack at the Gates," he continued. "I told you that day I could no longer deny my feelings for you. But it wasn't until we were in the caverns underneath the waterfall that we finally admitted to loving each other."

He moved her hand to his chest.

"You call on me in your most dire moments because you know I am the only one who can comfort you. I failed you when you needed me the days before your death because your time had come, and Michael prevented me from warning you, but I won't allow that to happen again. Only I can tell you how much I love you, Joan. The creatures of the dark are incapable of it, and none of the other Archangels possess the power to transform themselves into another. So when you hear those words from my lips, you can be sure I'm still your Gabriël."

Joan gazed into his blue eyes. She had looked into them so often; it seemed ridiculous that her mind made her believe they could be someone else's. Gabriël's heartbeat felt strong under her palm. She recognised its rhythmic pulse. His scent surrounded her. Joan closed her eyes to take it in. She moved closer to him. Their faces were only inches away from each other.

"I love only one person, Joan, and that's you," he whispered. "Truly and unconditionally. And I know you love me in the same way because if you didn't... this couldn't have happened."

Gabriël looked down at her body as he gently placed his hand over the little swell of her belly. Joan gasped at his touch. Her bottom lip quivered.

"Archangels can give life when they love someone and are equally loved in return. It happened only once before, with a mortal barren girl. The Archangel who conceived a child with Marina loved her more than anything. But there was another before her. Jealousy drove Michael mad, and he killed the baby before it was even born and damned our friend. He kept the truth from all of us and enforces the new rules with an iron fist because he doesn't want it to happen again for any of us. But then... we happened."

Joan felt Gabriël's heartbeat grow stronger underneath her palm. Heat pulsed around her, growing intense with every word spoken.

"Everything I have done since you fell, I've done to get back to you," said Gabriël. "Everything I'm doing now is to ensure we are never separated again. If it means I need to trick Michael to make sure he pays for what's done, then so be it."

"I just... never imagined you could be like this." 

"When people are pushed around long enough, they fight back. I won't let him get away with what he did. If we play this right, we can return to where we belong. And if not..."

Before Joan could ask him what then, the Archangel's lips were on hers. Memories of every moment they had shared flashed before her. She was certain of it now - he was Gabriël. He was here with her. She was safely in his arms again.