SHADOW REELS: GABE
Gabe dragged his fingers through his hair for what seemed like the millionth time. There was no other way to get around things. He could run, but where would that get him? It’d get him locked up for all eternity, that’s what. Not acceptable. They should lengthen his stay here among the humans. He hadn’t interfered, hell, he rarely gave his opinion to anyone. He might have cracked a few jokes here and there, but never with cruelty. He didn’t even blanch at the idea of calling the search off for Stone. Even when he’d been declared dead, and it seemed everyone had thrown in the towel. He’d offered no words of comfort or advice. Even Jesminda, who was devastated and refused to believe her mate was gone, he’d said nothing. She believed he was out there somewhere lost, and badly injured. Any immortal still licking their wounds after all this time, were better off dead.
The computer screens flickered to life, breaking him out of his thoughts. The Bio Signatures were complete. Everyone on the team was in the system. Jes and the Phoenix Bells included. The system surrounding the building’s perimeter would detect any outsider. Coupled with the wards the local coven had set; it would provide feedback and alert them of any dangers. The glow from the monitors lit up his workstation and the darkness beyond. He kept himself busy most days. Gathering Intel, people watching on the monitors, even the occasional porn kept him company. A man had to keep up on his skills right? Maybe today would be a good day for a stroll. Stroll? People didn’t say stroll anymore, they said things like, “let’s roll” or “kick rocks”. Which happened to be one of Royce’s terms. He only had a little over a month left. How would his teammates feel when he revealed his true self? The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Hopefully they would see it that way.
There was a time when he only saw black and white, right and wrong. There was a time he’d have sung the song of justice and delivered it just as quickly. Pansy Could he even call himself that? Sure, he hadn’t been honest with himself or his team. Pretty soon they would be on opposite sides of this war. Gabe heard him first, before he saw his visitor. He was in the corner of his office, and the shadows seemed to shrink away revealing a being with grayish silver metallic skin and eyes blacker than the abyss he came from, Greyson.
“You over think things.” The Seraph said as he stepped past the shadows. He was an Angel of War. But not just any Seraph, he and his brothers were the Warrior Angels. Slaves to the bands that were wrapped tightly around their neck. Only their mates could save them, and the Nubi were extinct. So much for the happily-ever-after.
“You’re dramatic.” Gabe shot back.
“I’ve come to issue warning.”
Always with the warnings. As if he hadn’t had enough during his two hundred year sentence. Okay, he’d play along.
“What warning?”
“Don’t interfere in this upcoming battle.”
Direct, but still elusive. What upcoming battle? Greyson was almost seven feet tall his shoulders were so wide, they cast their own shadows. Shoulder length charcoal hair, that sometimes looked silver at night settled in what women called silky waves around his head. It was the collar that drew your attention. A metal not found of this world, with the power to make its wearer powerless to your commands. Greyson and his brothers had managed to kill the original owner, but not before learning that the slave collar came with a curse. Only their mates could remove it, and their mates were a race of warrior women called the Nubi, who were slaughtered by the mother of all demons, Lilith.
Females still fell at Grey’s feet, and who was he to offer warning? It was their funeral. He on the other hand wasn’t afforded the luxury of a woman’s touch. Most of his time was spent in the computer room, operating the controls, making sure security was tight. There wasn’t time for frolicking. Frolicking? Damn his age was showing.
“Do I ever interfere?” Gabe said as an afterthought.
Greyson gave him a look that asked, did he really want the answer to his urbane question.
“You are not to interfere.” The seraph repeated crossing his arms over his chest. He was standing at his full height, the top of his hairs touched the ceiling and for a moment Gabe envied him. He’d volunteered for Earth duty. He still would if given the chance again. But a huge part of him also missed his true nature. He was meant to be free of pain, free from emotions. But as the years went on, he’d grown accustomed to this form. To things his current body needed, longed for. The basics hungers of any man. Sleep, food and sex. He’d been waking up with the hard on from hell, six weeks running. He craved to sink into the flesh of a female, craved to taste a woman’s kiss and run his tongue through her wet folds. His body went taught with lust, and Greyson huffed in exasperation.
“I never want to feel as you feel right now Gabriel.”
Yeah, well the Seraph had the curse going for him to prevent that.
“Your point?”
“Emotions are for the weak. They hinder the bearer their lucidity.”
“You’re entitled to your opinion, but what about the Pleasure Angels?”
Pleasure Angels, were exactly what their title said, pleasure. Any type any being could possibly imagine, those greedy nymphs would do it all.
“They are used for the edge that builds up due to war. I don’t coddle those females, and unlike my brothers, I don’t visit the same one twice.”
Greyson turned his head from left to right, cracking his neck, and looking at his surroundings. He returned his black gaze to face Gabe. It was said his eyes hadn’t always been black, but a shade of purple even deeper than Dravaggios. Compliments of his mother who was a Valkyrja. A female of Nordic descent who decided the fate of Vikings on the battle field. Greyson’s father had captured her and kept her for hundreds of years until she bore him a son. Grey, the product on their union, had his father’s looks, but his mother’s black heart. He had four other brothers who all had different mothers and all mean bastards just like the one who stood before him now, passing judgment. The would-be jailors if he stepped over the line.
“Regardless, you still make use of your body’s needs.”
“You should have joined with us when you had the chance Death bringer.”
“Wrong Angel, that’s Azrael’s job.”
“For now.”
Yeah, Az was up there bringing in the souls, but Gabe was the one who did the dirty work. He killed indiscriminately and without cause, never asked questions when he was given the scroll of the dead. He’d do his job like a good little drone.
“I am not here to go over the semantics of who does what. I’ll be back in four weeks. Don’t make me chase you Gabriel, Harbinger of Death.”
Greyson stepped closer, almost toe to toe and looked down at Gabe.
“Four weeks.”
He understood, in four weeks he’d be relinquishing his post. Leaving the Shadow Unit. He’d return to his true self. Killing was his business, and business was good.
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