where Raphael started. He wanted to expose Lucifer, Lilith, Abaddon. Show people what sin truly bought them. Is it worth it for an eternity of damnation?"
"Well, that's not exactly how it works," I said. “Souls didn't spend eternity in Abaddon. They either rehabbed and tried again, or they became demons. There was not an eternal damnation, per se.”
"Yes, we know that, but the humans don't. He wanted to give them proof. He's been showing himself to humans for hundreds of years in different ways. He was trying to stay under the radar."
"Why didn't he just do some major expose of himself?" Michael asked. "On live TV or something?"
Genevra chuckled. "He went down that route for a while. Before television was invented, all he could do was show himself to different people, but he knew he'd never get enough angels on board to make it a mass thing. So he had to be sneaky. if hundreds of humans around the globe suddenly had the same story about a very tall, brunette, muscular angel with wings of gold appearing to them, well, there's only a handful of Archangels with brown hair. And only you guys have gold wings."
It made sense. He couldn't get enough support from the angels to support himself. "But if he blows the lid off of Abaddon, and demons pour out, he doesn't need support. He'll have to hide from all the angels, probably be killed, but the job will be done."
"He thinks, in the end, when it's all calmed down and the demons are all dead. All the humans will become followers. No more atheists. No more religions that worship trees or animals, or what have you. He believes he'll be a martyr. A saint," Genevra said.
"For fuck's sake," Lucifer muttered. "What a dolt."
I chuckled at the very Lucian word. "Indeed."
Genevra shrugged. "He was compelling. And once I knew things, and helped..."
"You got in too deep."
She nodded frantically. "I want you to know, I wouldn't have chosen this, had I known how far he'd go. I thought he just wanted to find new and creative ways to build followers. Not blow the gates of Hell wide open."
We spent several minutes grilling her on specifics, but it drilled down to her knowing lots about his motivations, his feelings, and dreams, but very little about Raphael's actual plans. He held them close to himself.
When I was sure we'd gotten all we could from Genevra, I nodded at Michael. "Okay, she's done."
Before he did his work on her memory, I did the same thing I had with Ezekiel. "When this is over, use your second chance at life to make something good of it. Help humans. Raise your child with honor. We will be watching."
She wouldn't remember it, but my words would stick with her. She'd just never know why.
15
Taking Ezekiel and Genevra back to their hidey-holes was simple enough. Returning to figure out what the fuck to do with Uriel was another story. Lucifer, Michael and I stared at him with the ward up.
"Give him to Joel?" I suggested.
Michael winced. "I don't know. Joel's very by the book. He will turn him over to the angelic courts."
"He'll end up Fallen," Luc said. "And free."
Considering what I knew of our creator, I had to disagree. "God will possibly kill Raphael for this. He might kill Uriel, too."
"Then we end up with his soul in Abaddon," Luc said. "But we aren't there to make sure it's handled well."
"We can't kill him." Gabriel had a point. "It's high treason to kill an Archangel, even in circumstances such as this."
God was fond of his Archangels. We were the first. Raphael and Uriel's actions would wound him. "He probably already knows," I mused. "He's not completely omniscient like people think, but he's damn close."
"If these two aren't using magic to block their true thoughts, they’re idiots," Luc said. "We all learned how to do that thousands of years ago."
"Well, we can't stand here in this bloody barn and stare at him until the demons break loose either." Michael turned away from Uriel to face us. "It's going to have to be Joel. We don't have time to babysit him to make sure he doesn't break out of this temporary prison."
It wasn't exactly some high security wizard prison, our little barn. He had a point. I sighed and let my head drop. "Joel!" I shouted to the ceiling. "We need you!"
He appeared a few seconds later. "I live to serve," he said dryly. "You've got to