Chapter 2 - Mission

“I’ll get him, Metatron. I’ve never failed you before.”

~~~~

Humans perceive Heaven as in the clouds, and Hell as fire and brimstone.

Heaven is not what the people of earth imagine it to be. Many aspects of Paradise are unique and special to the individual; they reflect what the individual wants. Some imagine their residence in Heaven as a spring; others as their old house from their childhood years. However, the vast majority of Paradise resembles that of what the human world resembles. It took the shape of a modern city—how “modern” is defined in the human world in the present.

Heaven could be described as a town in the Texas Hill Country, with a plaza, a market place, a gun shop, large houses and yards, and many houses cluttered together around the center.

In our current times, Hell would be reminiscent to the city of Los Angeles: vast, gritty, and densely populated. Hatred runs through every being, the many are often punished by the few, and the powerful rule the city.

-Raphael

~~~~

A water arrow to the right of her face, narrowly missing her jaw, was not the way Gabrielle expected to be greeted once back in Paradise. She scowled heavily at their formidable archer Raziel, who had always been a rival of hers since Creation. They both watched the arrow fall over the Edge to the Earth’s atmosphere as a thunderstorm in the Yucatan Peninsula. Gabby turned back to Raziel. “You know, a nice handshake would suffice. Even a nod would do. But an arrow seems like overkill, don’t you think?” She placed her hands on her hips. “I’m not looking for you anyway. I’m looking for your brother. Where is he?”

“Talking to Chamuel and Raphael.” She jerked her head to the side, tossing her beautiful platinum hair. “Something about an exciting new addition. No one knows where he’ll be placed just yet.” She sneered. “You smell like demon.”

“And you smell like arrogance,” she joked and set off to the weaponry. If they were all talking somewhere and Rags was with them, it’d be in a place only archangels could tread. She passed many of the baby wings (what they called new angels); some called to her, most other waved. Only a few she knew by name, and muttered a quick hello to them before continuing onto her destination. Surprisingly, they were outside of the gun shop, chatting animatedly.

Chamuel immediately brightened when he saw Gabrielle. His short brown hair seemed to glow with happiness. “She’s back!” He rushed forward, took her hands, and kissed both cheeks. “I’m glad you’re back. I missed you. You were gone for three whole weeks!”

“Three weeks is not that long,” she giggled.

Raphael, always the suave gentleman, approached her and kissed her hand. “It is excellent to see you again, milady. I trust you’re in good health?”

She made a face at him. “You know as well as I do that we can’t get sick.”

“Manners beg me to ask the question, not interest.” He smiled.

Raguel didn’t greet her like the other two, but he looked relieved to see her. “Well? How did my newest experiment turn out?”

“Charming,” Gabrielle mused. “The human was alive after the shot.”

“That’s good. Very good.” He clapped his hands together. “I have a little something for you.” He glared at the other two. “You’re supposed to be tutoring the newest baby wing, so get to it!” He shoved them down the street before turning back to her. “Well, I’m glad those bullets worked as I willed them to. I can’t even bring myself to think about how many lives would have been saved had I thought about modifying them sooner.” His face fell. “Michael was in a rage earlier. You took one of his marks?”

She sighed. “I didn’t mean to, Rags. Honestly, he was taking too long. I didn’t want to wait any longer. The demon was about to shoo them out of the cathedral, and we needed all of them there. I can’t believe the werewolf actually showed up, but it fell into place, and I lost patience with Michael.” She eyed him. “What’s this something you have?”

“Ah!” He led her into the shop, to the storage in the back, and quickly shut the door behind them. “Metatron needs to speak with you soon, but I wanted to give this to you before you leave.” He faced the rifle rack and scanned the guns before reaching between two of them and pulling a necklace from a hook on the wall. He held it out. The chain was thin and liquid metal, which means he had crafted it himself. A white stone hung off the chain, no bigger than her thumb nail. “Do you know what this is?”

Her eyes widened, and she looked up at him. “Raguel, you didn’t…”

“Yes.” He smiled again. “Hope in its solid form. You can thank our new guy for that; he said he wanted it to go to our best warrior, and I thought of you. You know how every new angel brings something with them from their former lives? Our new guy is full of hope, and this stone was on him when he came here.” His hand touched the blue stone ring that wrapped around his middle finger. “I brought Calmness with me.” He moved his hand to gently lift one of the dazzling crystal daggers that dangled from her ears. “And you brought…”

“Love,” she answered simply. “Rags, we didn’t come here, though. We were created.”

“I know, darling. Yet we still have this stones and crystals.” He dropped his hand. “This isn’t the surprise, though. I’m going to ask you something that’s a little unthinkable, but believe me, I have the best intentions.” He closed his eyes. “Michael wants me to melt all of our stones together and create an item for you. I can mold it into whatever you want.”

She stared at his ring, and then the pretty teardrop-shaped stone on the chain. Melting all the stones together could lead to a formidable weapon or a powerful shield. “I don’t know…” A bell went off in her mind. “Michael asked you to do this?” Her eyes narrowed in contempt. “Where is he? I want to talk to him now. Is he at the spring?”

“No, he’s at the school. Wait, but what about…?”

“Metatron will call me when he wants to speak with me. Right now I have someone I need to speak to.” She turned on her heel and sped out of the gun shop, anger radiating from every pore in her body. Raguel sent a prayer to Michael in the hopes that he would not be decimated by the lovely creature that had just left his shop.

~~~~

Gabrielle found him by the magnificent marble fountain built over the years by many archangels (most of the contributions had come from her and Michael). It had been given as a gift to Ariel, instructor to most of the baby wings. He was sitting on the round dais in front of it, reading a scroll that looked oddly familiar. He didn’t look up when she came within feet of him, but he did sigh. “Raguel was not supposed to tell you so soon. This was meant to be told to you after Metatron talked to you.” He looked up. “What exactly did he say?”

Even after spending eons with him, his beauty and glory always left her in awe.

From the golden locks that framed his face, to the amber eyes set into his chiseled face, to the scattered moles on his neck and collarbone, everything about him was strikingly handsome. His open shirt revealed a lean and muscular body, and his jeans made him appear as a bachelor lounging by a fountain. “Gabrielle. Focus.”

“He said you wanted to melt our stones into something for me. Why?”

“You will know why once Metatron is done briefing you.”

She sighed at the wording. “I have a new contract, don’t I?”

His mouth twisted slightly. “You could say that.”

“What’s wrong, Michael?”

“Nothing. Everything is perfectly fine.” He blinked before standing and placing his hands on her shoulders. “I’m concerned for your safety with this new mission, so since you’ve been told of the stones, I might as well come out and say it.” He took a deep breath. “Some of the archangels, including me and the new archangel, will be going with you on this mission.” Her jaw fell open, and he gently lifted it back into place with a finger. “His name is Castiel—the new archangel. You’ll meet him once you’re through with Metatron.”

“Michael,” she whispered. “Just what kind of mission is this for you to come with me?” She was a good warrior. Gabrielle knew she was the best assassin and shooter the angels had. Michael was a Holy War general. He commanded the armies of Heaven. In short, being accompanied by him as well as her own entourage of archangels was a little unsettling for her. “I mean, how big a deal is the outcome?”

His mouth twisted again. “Gabby, trust me on this. You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Can you blame me for being suspicious and a little worried?!”

“I don’t blame you. But leave your questions for Metatron, please.”

“Michael…”

“No, that’s it. You’ll find out soon enough,” he repeated coldly. He let go of her and retreated back to the fountain. “Metatron is at the presidential palace. He wants to see you right now. Don’t be late.” He sat back down and went back to reading the scroll. Gabrielle felt the urge to hit him, but fought it down and headed to the biggest building in Heaven: the presidential palace, where Metatron (and God, the Almighty Father) resided.

~~~~

In all white, with the faintest hints of sunlight radiating from him, Metatron leaned casually on the banister of the main staircase, looking at ease compared to the guards pacing around conspicuously. “Ah, my Gabrielle,” he chuckled and held out his arms. Despite always showing a steady demeanor, she rushed forward into the serene man’s arms and kissed his cheek. “My brave girl, you are never this jubilant.”

“I just got back from a hunt,” she said breathlessly. “What do you want to tell me, Metatron?”

“This comes from the Father, child. It’s an order.” His tone was incredibly somber; she immediately stiffened and stared up at him. “It’s been troublesome to locate this demon. We’ve searched and searched for millennia. We’ve finally found him.”

“He must be slick, then.” She laughed. “I’ll get him, Metatron. I’ve never failed you before.”

“Well, that is the problem.” He frowned. “This demon is quite unlike anything you have ever gone up against. He’s powerful, he can hide well among the humans, and he will recognize the gun you carry. You must be incognito about the kill. No taunting,” he said playfully, and she rolled her eyes. “In fact, we’ll call this a sharpshooting mission. I’ve spoken to Raguel, and he has figured out a way to let you transform the gun into two forms.”

Gabrielle blinked. “Is that what the stones are for?”

“Ah, you already know. Good, that means I don’t have to waste any time in sending you all there. I’ve handpicked the vessels already; they are all under the same company on earth.”

“Company?” she repeated.

“An entertainment company who practically dominates the music industry in the country of South Korea. Why there, you may ask? It’s an obligation to Michael’s prophet. Her parents were recently killed in a car accident, though I’ve yet to see them here. For some reason, the girl decided to leave her country and relocate to another continent; I’m sure her large inheritance played a part in that.”

“His charge…” She picked through her brain for the name. “Ah, Anastasia.”

“Yes, she is the girl. The parents’ sudden passing took a toll on the younger sister. Giselle,” he added at her confused expression. “Michael reported to me that she may have chosen to feign liveliness in order to make up for her depressed mind.”

“Poor thing. I’m sure it hasn’t been easy on her.”

“Relocating is never easy on a child. She’s not yet a teenager yet.”

“Metatron, why are you sending so many archangels with me? Heaven will be vulnerable.”

“Oh, for your protection,” he chuckled. “Michael will be dealing with his charge in person, Raphael and Chamuel are training Castiel—the new archangel—and the twins will be helping you track this demon.” He paused. “I’m sending Ariel for your own personal enjoyment, since you two seem to be inseparable.” He smiled. “The Father sends you His wishes, and I may make an appearance or two at times.”

“When are we leaving?”

He checked his watch, which had many hands and gears winding on its gold surface. “I need to get some things squared away with Michael, and we need to give Raguel time to gather all the stones from the archangels. Don’t worry, it’s reversible once the mission is over. Those stones mean something to each angel, and we must give them back after we’re done.” He touched her shoulder. “Peace be with you, daughter.” He nodded and turned away.

As she stared at his retreating back, she couldn’t help but wonder, He assumes I’ll complete the mission. She caught herself and shook her head. Don’t think such crap, Gabby. You always do well on missions. “I want to see Ariel,” she told no one in particular and headed out the front doors of the palace.

~~~~

The onyx rings on his slender fingers only hinted at his malevolence: engraved skulls, insignias, and other things. He gently tapped his fingers on the desk, resembling a pale spider walking in place. His eyes were black holes as they bored into the dark oak of the door, waiting for his next appointment. His hair was dark, wavy and tickled his shoulders with a gentle curl. One strand fell into his face as he lifted his head at a knock. “Enter.”

A woman, thin in the extremes, bowed gracefully as she opened the door. “My liege. The honorable Bayne wishes to seek an audience with you.”

“Tell him I’m busy,” he muttered impatiently. “He knows better than to just waltz in here.”

“There happens to be a slight problem with that, sire. He is waiting in the lounge and insists upon seeing you.”

His eyes became slits, and he hissed slightly. The woman backed away in fear. “Fine. Send him in. He’s fortunate that he’s my best lieutenant and my favorite son.” He leaned back in his chair and folded his slender fingers together. His secretary nodded once and bowed out of the room. Before the door had closed, it swung back open, and Bayne walked into the room. “Ah, the soul collector returns.”

His hair was short and spiky, and it looked much disheveled in a sexy way. His eyes—almost amber—were full of boredom and exhaustion. His lanky arms were covered in scratches and blood oozed out of some deeper ones. “Twenty for today. Second to last one had a bit of fight in them. Remind me to not make deals with the young anymore.”

“How young?”

“No one under 21.” He yanked the chair in front of the desk backward and sat down. “Anyway, while I was on my way back here, a thought occurred to me. I’ve collected quite a number of souls now, almost as much as my predecessor. It seems only fair that I should designate where my next job is.” He imitated his liege and folded his hands together. “I want to get a soul from a very important person to, say…the angels.”

“Don’t be stupid. They’ll track you and kill you before you know it. They have that wonderful assassin with them. Gabrielle.” His sneer became pronounced. “It pains me to recall that we were once great allies, now reduced to mutinous enemies.”

“Ah, but I’ve found a way around that.” Bayne smirked. “There’s a witch here—one of the finest, if you will. Celia is her name, sorcery is her game. She can draw runes on my arms that cloak me even from Heaven’s best. I will be invisible to them. Plus, I’ve already picked the perfect vessel for my work up on earth. This job is a piece of~”

“First inform me of exactly who you will be, ah…charming.”

“A prophetess.” He smirked. “Anastasia.”

His superior blinked. “You want to go after a charge of Michael’s? Fine. Do as you wish. Get yourself killed by him or that wretched Gabby.” He smirked. “Leave Michael to me. This is what I’ve been waiting for. It’s my time, at last.” He rose gradually from his chair, leaving Bayne looking stunned. “You have my permission to begin immediately. I meanwhile will prepare for a trip to the human world. Much needs to be done, and many of my children to alert.” He scratched his chin. “Do take Jezebel and Lilith along. I’m afraid they have a bit of work to do. I may send others, I may not. I need to ready myself and Mephisto.”

“Thank you, my liege. I will not disappoint you. I will return with that prophetess’ soul.”

“You have my best wishes, my son.”

“Sire.” His secretary had returned. “Your appointment.”

“Ah, of course. Of course.” Lucifer nodded to his favorite son. “Be gone.” Bayne immediately popped out of the room, there one second and gone the next. The secretary left to escort his next appointment into the room. He walked around his desk to stare out the window. Below him, the streets were filled with beggars being whipped and beaten. He could nearly hear the screams of the damned souls getting what they’d earned on the rack. He sighed contently. “Michael, Michael. You’re going to regret throwing me down into the pit.”

~~~~

A/N: I’m aware that Castiel is not an archangel, but he is in this story.