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The Grigori Legacy: Sins Of The Lost Part 15

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"Enough to jeopardize your race right now. And not for the first time."

"Oh, don't hand me that bulls.h.i.t. We may not be perfect, but we're a long, long way from being responsible for our total demise. Lucifer and the Nephilim will take care of that when you and the others have finished battling it out on our turf, and the One won't raise a hand to stop them. Will she?"

"She has done everything-"

"Will she?" she demanded harshly.

"Let. Me. Finish." Michael said, his voice so hard that she had to fight an urge to step back. "First of all, we're not battling it out anywhere at present, least of all in your realm. What's happening to the planet is because of the powers Seth refuses to take back, not because of us. Second, the One has done everything she can. Your race has the capacity to save itself from the Nephilim or not. It's your choice. She cannot-and will not-make that decision for you. For any of you."



"Bulls.h.i.t. She's already asking me to sacrifice everything I love with no guarantee that it will make any difference. That feels pretty decisive to me."

"You're right. She is."

Alex blinked her surprise. He agreed?

"But the decision is still yours, Naphil. You can refuse, and do what you were thinking of doing when I walked in on you now. Leave, turn your back on what might very well be a lost cause, take what happiness you can while it's possible."

Alex jutted out her chin. "But?"

"But you'll have to live with your choice."

An invisible fist buried itself in her gut. Her mouth opened, closed, and opened again. No sound emerged.

Michael looked down on her from across the few feet of tiled s.p.a.ce between them. "We've arranged it so the words you spoke to your supervisor will be forgotten by those who overheard them. Try to be more circ.u.mspect in future."

"That's it? That's all I get? Do the right thing and try not to screw up again? That's the best you can give me?"

"What more is there?"

"Hope? Encouragement? A word of G.o.dd.a.m.n apology?"

"Apology." His eyes turned to emerald chips of ice, and his black wings began to slowly unfurl, as wide as the limited s.p.a.ce would allow. "Apology," he repeated. "And just what would you have me apologize for, Naphil? My kin giving up their soulmates and their free will just to survive the war we fought on your behalf? Our Creator not sacrificing herself sooner for your benefit? Are you really that arrogant?"

The metal frame of the bathroom stall bit into her spine between her shoulder blades. Michael hadn't moved an inch, but his presence still pressed in on her, driving her back. Her stomach flip-flopped. When the h.e.l.l would she learn that p.i.s.sing off an Archangel was not a bright thing to do?

"That's not what I meant," she began.

He fixed her with a dagger-like stare. "I don't give a d.a.m.n what you meant. I've told you what your choices are, now stop feeling sorry for yourself and make your decision."

And with that parting gem of warm fuzziness, Heaven's greatest warrior simply disappeared, leaving Alex staring yet again at the emptiness he left behind. Slowly her alarm gave way to renewed irritation, then to annoyance, and then to outright anger. She scowled. Stop feeling sorry for yourself? And he called her arrogant. The self-righteous, pompous- The washroom door swung inward, and Joly stepped through the opening. "There you are."

Alex threw her arms wide. "What is this, G.o.dd.a.m.n Grand Central Station?"

Joly paused, looked around the room that was obviously empty but for them, and raised a brow. "You okay, Jarvis?"

Apart from wanting to kick something? "I'm fine. Did you want something, or can I get a little privacy?"

"There's a meeting," he said. "In the conference room. Staff Roberts sent me to get you."

Alex hesitated, her lips pressed together so tightly that numbness set in. Michael's words rang in her ears, reached deeper to resonate in her soul. He was right. She could walk away now and be done with it all. With the murders, the angels, the Fallen Ones, the Nephilim. Walk away and take the only chance at happiness she might ever have. But could she live with that choice?

She looked at her reflection in the mirror over the sink. Met the resignation in her own gaze. Closed her eyes against the weariness that seeped from her every pore.

"I'm coming," she told Joly. "Just give me a minute."

Not until the door swung shut again did it register that he'd behaved normally. As if he'd heard nothing, knew nothing, despite being planted directly outside Roberts's door when she'd emerged after her meltdown. As if it had never happened. That must have been what Michael meant. Heaven had wiped the memory from them. She tipped her head back against the stall.

d.a.m.n, what she wouldn't give to be in their shoes.

Chapter 34.

". . . on those files?"

In the silence that followed the question, Alex raised her head. She found all eyes in the room on her and looked over at her supervisor. h.e.l.l. That would teach her to tune out of a meeting.

"Sorry, were you talking to me?"

A flash of impatience crossed Roberts's features. "I asked where you were on the files I asked you to review."

You mean in my spare time? Alex bit back the retort. "I haven't had a chance to finish them yet," she said.

"I want them done by tomorrow." Roberts nodded at her notepad. "What's that?"

"A list. Additional terms I thought tech might want to watch for on the Internet."

He held out his hand.

She hesitated, then tore the sheet of paper from the notepad and pa.s.sed it to Joly beside her. It moved from hand to hand around the table, each holder taking a second to skim the contents-Nephilim, Satan, second coming, Lucifer, angels, demons, fallen angels. Some of the terms were probably on tech's watch list already. Others, such as Nephilim, maybe not so much.

The paper reached their staff inspector. Apart from a few raised eyebrows among her colleagues-and Joly's narrowed, sidelong speculation-no one seemed overly perturbed. Alex relaxed a little. Michael's magic memory-wipe was holding.

Roberts scanned the list, and then, without so much as glancing her way, held it aloft.

"For those of you who didn't have the opportunity to sneak a peek, Jarvis has just added to our list of Internet watch terms. The terms she is suggesting tie in with what's going on out in Morinville and quite probably with yesterday's stoning. They are also religious in nature. Now, we all know what happens the moment the press gets wind that the police are investigating any kind of religious angle. So let me be clear: your answer to any question put to you by a journalist is 'no comment,' because if anything on this list makes the news, I will have someone's head. Now get to work. Jarvis, stay."

Again?

Alex subsided into her chair and watched the others file out. Roberts closed the door behind them, keeping his hand on the k.n.o.b.

"I'll be brief. What happened in my office . . ."

She stiffened. He remembered?

"I'm sorry. I know I sprang Dr. Riley on you, but you would have objected if you'd known in advance."

"That's it?" she asked cautiously. Nothing about her information dump?

"I don't know what else you want me to say. My hands are tied, Detective. I have my orders, and you have yours. You're to see Riley."

Alex looked down at her hands, folded in her lap. He didn't remember.

"Like I said, Detective, this one's out of my hands. Though if I ever catch a certain psychologist in a dark alley somewhere, I don't guarantee his continued well-being." He half smiled, not entirely in jest. "My question at the moment is, are you good to remain today, or do you need some time?"

"I'm good."

"You sure? You've been under one h.e.l.l of a lot of pressure."

A significant portion of which waited for her at home.

"I'm sure."

"All right, then. Let's get back to work."

"Jarvis! You have company."

Alex looked up at the sound of her name and found Joly near the door, waving for her attention. Seth towered over him. Her stomach migrated to her toes. h.e.l.l. Now what? She flipped the file folder closed and stood, aware of the curious eyes following his progress across the office.

And the watchful ones.

Catching Aramael's eye, she scowled a warning at him. Stay away. She still hadn't forgiven him for siccing Michael on her instead of handling her meltdown on his own-and she had no intention of letting him anywhere near Seth. Returning her glare, Aramael stepped back into the coffee room from which he'd emerged. She met Seth halfway across the office.

"Is everything all right?" she asked. "Did I miss a call? Did you find something?"

A shadow crossed his eyes. "I didn't realize that was a prerequisite for seeing you."

She swallowed an automatic denial. He was right. When had she stopped feeling antic.i.p.ation rather than dread at the sight of him? "It's not. You've just never come to the office before, and I thought-" She touched his hand. "Never mind. I'm happy to see you."

"I wanted to take you for lunch."

"Lunch?"

"I believe that's a customary activity for a couple."

"It is. It's just-" She snapped her teeth shut against the words that threatened. So ordinary. Too ordinary to fit with the context of what they were. What they knew. What they did. And certainly too ordinary to follow on the heels of their argument the night before. The shadows in his eyes deepened and guilt twinged in her heart.

Lunch was ordinary, but maybe that's what they needed. What she needed before she had to act on Michael's- No. She wasn't going to think about Michael now. Seth was making an effort here and she was d.a.m.ned if she wouldn't meet him halfway. At least this once.

Roberts's files would have to wait for an hour.

And so would Armageddon.

"I'd love to go for lunch with you," she said. "I'll get my coat."

Outside on the sidewalk, she reached for Seth's hand. "Let's walk for a bit. I haven't been out of the office all morning. The fresh air is nice."

So was pretending, for a few minutes at least, that they were almost a normal couple.

Seth stared down at their linked fingers.

Almost.

"Also customary," she said lightly. She tipped her head to the left. "This way. There's a sandwich shop a couple of blocks over."

Seth fell into step beside her, and their silence-perhaps for the first time ever-was comfortable. It didn't last long.

"Must your bodyguard follow us?"

Alex glanced over her shoulder and saw Aramael a couple of dozen feet behind. h.e.l.l. She pulled her hand from Seth's grasp. "Wait here."

Doing an about-face, she walked back to Aramael. "Go away."

"I can't do that if I'm going to protect you."

"I don't care."

"Alex-"

"No. It's broad daylight. We're on a busy street. No one is coming after me here."

"You don't know that."

"I'm willing to take the chance." She dropped her voice. "Aramael, I need this. Please."

Aramael's gaze bored into hers, flicked to Seth, darkened, returned. "I'll pull back, but not all the way."

"d.a.m.n it!"

"I won't risk it. I can't."

Alex met the granite-hard inflexibility in his eyes, spun away, and went to rejoin Seth, skirting a homeless man picking through a garbage can. "Let's just go," she said wearily. To her relief, Seth made no objection.

This time, however, their hands stayed in their respective pockets.

Chapter 35.

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The Grigori Legacy: Sins Of The Lost Part 15 summary

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