“Gabriel is here and worse for wear. Based on his groaning, he’s still alive,” he told Nadia through their link.
“Oh, thank God!”
“You have to stop saying that, pet. It makes my skin itch.”
She snorted a horrified laugh, as if she couldn’t help herself, and he fought the urge to chuckle with her. If Michael for one second thought they could communicate, he’d torture Luc to bring Nadia to heel. But it didn’t mean he couldn’t take a dig at him.
“You don’t look happy, Mikey. Nadia give you the slip?”
“Fuck off,” Michael growled.
“Don’t be sour. She’s a wily minx.”
Luc rose and slowly sauntered to the cage entrance, biding his time.
“Back off, Lucifer,” Raphael warned, expression wary. Alone, he posed no match for Luc’s strength. He was smart enough to recognize himself as the weakest link in their foursome.
“Where am I going to go with four of you blocking the way?” he asked dryly.
But at some point, they’d need to drag Gabriel into this powerful prison they’d created to hold an archangel. Had they thought ahead to the combined strength of two? Probably not. They were obsessed with winning, and sometimes their strategy suffered as a result.
“I will cut you down where you stand,” Michael warned.
“Mm, I don’t believe you will. You may want to, yes, but Daddy Dear will tan your wittle-bitty hide.” He pursed his lips like a pouting child, secretly delighting in Michael’s rage. “You’re so easy.”
Gabriel lifted his head as the cage door swung wide. Though the skin around his eyes had already turned purple and swelled, he managed to lock gazes with Luc. Unspoken communication was their greatest asset. They thought alike and inherently understood when to take a risk. And since the two idiots dragging Gabriel had him by the arms, they’d foolishly left his hands free.
His split lip curled as his finger traced an invisible sigil.
Time stopped.
“Can you walk?” Luc asked.
“No. They snapped… my spine. It’ll heal, but not soon. Leave me… protect Nadia.” Gabriel’s little speech cost him, and his skin paled before taking on a sickly gray hue.
“Broken ribs punctured your lungs, I suspect.”
“Go, brother. Take care… of my… daughter. Make… a fucking… grilled… cheese.”
Deciphering the last sentence would take too long, so Luc shrugged it off.
For years, they’d shared a code of no man left behind, yet they were no good to Nadia dead or incapacitated.
“I shall return with my warriors, brother. Be ready to walk out of here.”
Luc placed a hand on Gabriel’s blood-matted hair and pushed healing energy where he needed it most. The burst of vitality would help, but not right away.
“Go. Time… slipping… these four… fighting its hold.”
With one secondary surge of healing for Gabriel’s ribs and punctured lung, Luc drew a sigil of invisibility and slipped past Raphael. The wards sizzled against his skin, growing more intense and slowing his progress as he trudged toward the exit. With his hands positioned to protect his face and eyes, he pushed through the magical curtain, breathing a sigh of relief the instant he cleared the opening. Third-degree burns on his arms caused him untold agony, but he’d suffered worse injuries in the past, and he had a duty to save Nadia.
“What can I do to help you?” she asked in a trembling voice.
“Have Thamiel on standby when I get home.”
Home.
That novel dream he’d clung to over the last week.
