“Michael,” Samuel called soothingly. “I believe Gideon mentioned talking. I think it best we hear what he has to say.”
The Archangel stared Gideon down, chest heaving, nostrils flaring, rage suffusing his features. In a flash, the flaming sword was gone and Michael launched himself at Gideon, viciously pummeling him with bare fists. He caught Gideon in the mouth with one punch, in the eye with the next. Not to be outdone, Gideon blocked the next jab with his forearm, his other fist connecting with Michael’s nose with a satisfying crunch. The two broke apart, circling each other.
“Damn it,” Gideon huffed, dodging another blow. “Listen to me. Maggie is part of the Prophesy.”
“The hell she is.” Michael spat a mouthful of blood onto the ground, his fists bobbing in front of his face.
Spatters of blood flew, muscles were bruised and bone snapped as the two went at each other like prizefighters.
“She’s a first generation Halfling,” Gideon reminded Michael in between blows. His head snapped to the side from a brutal right hook to the jaw.
“No one knows about her. She’s been hidden.” Michael swung again, missing when Gideon wised up and ducked, driving a fist into Michael’s ribs.
“Everyone knows about her, you stupid dipshit.”
That gave Michael pause. Using the advantage, not caring that he was taking a cheap shot, Gideon slammed another fist into his stomach, driving the angel back and doubling him over.
“Stolas has the Sword of Kathnesh.” Gideon propped his fists on his hips, fighting to suck in a breath around the searing pain in his kidneys from a couple of Michael’s own cheap shots.
“That’s a myth,” Michael wheezed, hands on his knees, blood dripping from his nose.
“It’s not.”
“Have you seen it?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know?”
“Because we have the Arc Stone.”
Nearby, Samuel sucked in a sharp breath. In the fight, Gideon had forgotten the angel was still around. He angled now, so his back was to the warehouse. Easing to the side, he edged along the wall so the angels weren’t blocking him from both sides. In theory, he could shimmer away, but he remembered all too well the toll shimmering took on Maggie. He would not do that to her again—not if he could help it.
“Stolas?” Michael straightened. Gideon took great pleasure seeing both Michael’s eyes were beginning to swell shut, and that blood was still streaming from his broken nose. “But he’s a prince. Lucifer’s own grandson.”
“If you think that lot has loyalty to any save themselves, then you’re even more stupid than I thought.”
Michael growled low in his throat and took a staggering step forward. A Sword of Justice ignited in his hand once more.
“If you kill me,” Gideon said, shoving his wrist up in the space between them so the streetlight at the end of the alley glinted off the hammered cuff, “you’ll kill her too. The cuffs are bound, and Mortika? has the key.”
Michael’s flushed face turned a nice sickly shade of green. “You bastard,” he hissed.
Michael vanished the sword and rushed Gideon again, tackling him to the ground. Gideon kicked Michael in the stomach, sending him flying overhead. The Archangel was on his feet in the blink of an eye, and charging into Gideon, shoulder lowered, head down. Gideon absorbed the blow, his breath leaving him in a whoosh. He let his fists fly, jabbing into Michael’s lower back and sides. The two went tumbling along the filthy concrete and crashed noisily into a dumpster, sending a pack of rats scurrying into the night.
Another set of hands wedged in between them, tearing them apart. Samuel forced his body between them. He used his wings and his arms to restrain Michael as he stared hard at Gideon.
“Why have you done this?” Michael asked, eyeing first the cuff, then Gideon himself.
“At first, it was to keep her safe. To get around the curse so I could take her to safety.”
“And now?” Samuel asked, his voice and his face filled with strain as Michael raged and fought to get at Gideon.
Gideon straightened, watching Samuel struggle to hold Michael at bay. Though Samuel had just as much reason to hate Gideon and the others, he appeared to be willing to listen at least. Did they have an unexpected ally in the Heavens then?
Using the back of his wrist to wipe the blood from his mouth and chin, he eyed Michael. Telling himself he had nothing to feel guilty over, calling himself a rat-bastard liar for even trying to justify his actions that way, he lifted his chin, stare locked on Michael though he spoke to both angels.
“I’ve claimed Maggie as my mate,” he said loud and clear, watching as Michael all but exploded with fury, his face turning purple.
Samuel, using his entire body now to restrain the Archangel, gritted his teeth and shook his head, looking to the skies as if praying for…for what? Divine intervention? Mercy on Gideon’s black essence? The strength to keep restraining Michael in all his murderous fury? Protection for Maggie?