Re chuckled, then leaned over and licked some cream from my lips. “Delicious.”
One of the women fainted, feathers everywhere.
Chapter Seven
We caught up with the others at the University of Zebul. As excited as we were to share our information, the weight of the place softened and slowed our footsteps, and I found myself gawking at the ceilings with their gilded and arched beams that framed extraordinary murals of Angels and Earth. Then there were the lush gardens, seen through massive mullioned windows, and even the Angels themselves. Scholars strode by us in black robes, holding stacks of old books and looking as if they belonged at Hogwarts.
Even Re's beauty couldn't distract these studious Angels from their classes. They rushed past us with barely a glance at my shiny husband. Re's lush lips turned down. But then we were in the library, and the quiet became reverent. The sound of our footsteps, already soft, was swallowed by thick carpets. Rooms opened to either side of us, each one enormous, with metal plaques over the doorways engraved in Latin. Within the rooms, bookshelves of awesome height and length lined up like soldiers, every shelf full. Angels stood among the bookshelves, offering the only sounds to be heard in the library—the occasional swish of fabric or the rustle of a turned page.
Until a voice broke the quiet.
“You know, you could put this all on the cloud.”
I snorted a laugh.
Torrent grinned. “Viper's right. They could free up a lot of space.”
“The cloud?” a regal voice asked. “Which cloud? What do you mean?”
“The Internet,” Viper said.
“You want us to put all of our information on the Internet?” the man was horrified. “The human web?”
“You don't have to share it. Or, if you're worried about it, put them on removable hard drives. Torrent can advise you better than me.”
“And what would you suggest we do with the ancient scrolls of Alexandria?”
Re, Torrent, and I followed the voices to the end of the hallway, through the archway there, and into the final room. Instead of bookshelves, there were those cubicles people made to hold wine. You know, with the boards at angles to form diamond holes. But these cubicles were full of scrolls. So many scrolls. They went hundreds of feet up the walls with glass doors mounted on golden brackets before them, each level designated only by the height of those doors. There were no balconies or galleries or whatever you call the narrow bits of floor that run around the upper levels of very tall rooms. Angels didn't need nonsense like that.
Magical light, its source unknown, illuminated the room brightly. Apparently, it didn't pose a threat to the scrolls as sunlight might have. Oh, wait, these scrolls were protected byspells. So it didn't matter what kind of light was beamed at them. Lasers couldn't hurt them. In the center of the room, where you'd expect to find tables, there were only chairs. Back-to-back and facing out toward the scrolls. It felt like a museum.
Between one of the glass-covered wall cubicles and a line of chairs stood the God Squad, Jesus, Abaddon, and an Angel I didn't know. The unknown Angel would have been attractive if his face wasn't squished up in disdain. And I would have taken his annoyance more seriously if Abaddon wasn't standing behind him, rolling his eyes and Jesus wasn't searching his pockets for a happy cigarette.
When the J-man pulled out a hand-rolled, the upset Angel nearly fainted.
“Sire, you can't smoke in here!”
“Why not?”
“The scrolls!”
“Aren't they protected under heavy-duty spells?”
“Well, yes, but this room is still part of the library, and there is no smoking allowed in the library.”
“Oh.” Jesus peered at the joint as if he couldn't imagine how it had gotten in his hand. “Well then, I'll just take a whiff. I like the smell. It calms me.”
“You like the smell?” I asked as we joined them. “You know they call it skunk weed for a reason?”
Jesus beamed at me and slid the joint back into his pocket. “There you are! Did you find anything?”
“Your ward is fine,” Torrent said. “We searched every inch and the code, uh, I mean, the magic is unbroken.”
“But while we were looking, Re was making friends,” I added with a smug look at my husband.
He smirked back at me. “I can't help it. I'm a friendly guy.”
Shaking my head, I said, “Go on. Tell them.”
