“Good,” I said brightly, pulling him along. “A drunk archangel is a loose-lipped archangel.”
Belial just shook his head sadly. “He’s drinking them like water, angel. Like water. Do you have any idea how many years I’ve been holding those back?”
The Chainlings guarding the door ahead were both peering into the room. It was impossible to make out their expressions under their hoods, but at one point they shared a glance, and jumped and straightened up when they saw us coming.
“I’ll get your more whiskey and you can age it for the next millennium,” I told Belial. “I just want to know what the Hell happened in Heaven. If there was any chance Gabriel was in on the plan with Satan, then we might be watching our backs for yet more enemies.”
For all my eagerness, I paused when we reached the door. I still didn’t quite like archangels, with the exception of Tascius, after years of being tormented at their hands.
But I’d never met Michael before. Trading information would mean having to give him the benefit of a doubt.
And even if he did try to raise a hand against me… well, he wouldn’t make it far after that, not with Belial at my back.
I stepped into the doorway and stopped in my tracks.
The archangel was sitting on a makeshift bed, his hands free but his ankles still in manacles. He had a plate balanced across his lap, piled with meat, and a tankard in one hand.
Azazel and Tascius were already in there, both of them watching him with incredulity.
“More,” Michael said hoarsely, holding out the tankard.
Azazel stepped forward, tilting a glass bottle until the last topaz drops fell into the outstretched mug. Behind me, Belial let out a small groan of dismay.
Michael held up the tankard and drained it, his throat working as he drank.
I just stared at him, feeling the same incredulity as everyone else, but this was what we had to work with. If he’d been awake for even a fraction of his time in the sarcophagus, he might’ve overheard discussions, plans, maybe even something Lucifer had said.
I decided to introduce myself, taking another step closer. It was hard to not assume the military formation pose of our Choir in the presence of an archangel, with my left hand clasped around my right wrist behind my back, but I was no longer of Heaven’s army, and I didn’t owe him my fealty.
“Hello. I’m Melisande. I’m not sure how much they’ve explained to you, but-”
Michael looked up at me and squinted. “But I’m in Hell, I missed the Apocalypse, and I’ve spent the last century sleeping under the Dragon’s flaming arsehole. We’ve covered the basics.”
I instinctively bristled, but tried to calm myself. I’d probably be in a foul mood too if I woke up in the Pit and was told I missed out on something that important. “Right. Now we have some questions for you. Starting with why you attacked someone you believed was Gabriel.”
Michael placed the tankard on a small table that had been dragged nearby, but his movements weren’t delicate. He moved like he held a sword in hand, nearly planting the mug right through the tabletop. “Because Gabriel was the bastard who told me Raphael was in Hell. I landed right in a trap. Now, why don’t you tell me why there’s a brand-new archangel in here with us? Who died?” I realized his voice wasn’t hoarse from thirst. He just had a deep, booming voice edged with rasp.
But my lips twitched at his question, almost splitting into a smile at the memory of Gabriel’s bloody demise. “We already told you this, but Gabriel died.”
“I’m his son,” Tascius added quietly, still watching Michael with a suspicious eye. “Nephilim-born.”
Michael paused with a leg of mutton halfway to his mouth. “Gabriel is… dead?” He sounded disbelieving, and clearly had zero memory of fighting Tascius the moment he was released from the sarcophagus.
“As a doornail,” I said smugly, but Michael launched to his feet, sending meat scattering and the tray clanging across the room.
“You deprived me of his murder?” he roared.
Within a split-second, Belial had me behind him, his teeth already lengthening and a deep snarl ripping through him. “You will watch yourself in her presence,” he growled, and Michael took a deep breath.
He couldn’t go anywhere with the manacles around his ankles, but his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. His breathing was ragged, his wings trembling but tucked in against his back. Belial didn’t protest