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is Tzadkiel who spoke against the Grigori so they remain in Hell. Uriel drowned millions of innocent human lives on the orders of God; we, all of us, stood by and did nothing when The Son was killed by human hands.
    “We all have blood on our hands and our souls. We have all done terrible things. But those are things that we have done , not things that make us who we are . Cease this self-indulgent self-flagellation now and rise up, for we have work to do to save millions more than we ever killed or condemned to death.”
    Everyone stared at Michael, shocked and a little awed. Gabriel, however, stared at Michael with not a little admiration and love. Michael, Commander of the Hosts of Heaven, First Archangel, Prince of the Celestial Realms, was magnificent.
    And he was Gabriel’s bonded.
    Getting to his feet, Gabriel moved to his lover and cupped his face between his hands. “I love you, Michael,” Gabriel said in a low voice. And then he kissed him.
    For several seconds, Michael kissed back, and then he pulled away with an embarrassed cough. “Public, Gabriel,” he scolded. “Perhaps this is too much affection to display in front of our Brotherhood.”
    Gabriel began to laugh. “You are so adorable.”
    Samael chuckled. “You are both adorable.”
    Gabriel grinned at Michael and stepped back. “So,” he said, turning to the assembled and realizing that all of the Brotherhood plus Sophiel, Brieus, Shateiel, Agrat, and Israfel were present, “to business then, yeah?”
    “Good.” Uriel rolled his eyes. “I was about to send Razzy off to get me a bucket. So I could throw up.”
    “Oh you were not, you big softie,” Raziel said, poking Uriel’s side. “You said they were cute.”
    “Yeah, and cute means ugly but interesting. I rest my case.” Uriel sat down on Remiel’s sofa. “So, I think we should find Semjaza, string him up somewhere, and turn him into a piñata.”
    “How… colorful.” Haniel’s mouth made a moue of distaste. “I doubt that he would have anything inside of him that we would want.”
    “Probably not, but it’d be fun.” Uriel lit a cigar and turned to look at Ishtahar. He held his arms out to her, and she rose from her seat and moved to him. As he wrapped his arms around her in a hug, Uriel said, “I will absolutely not permit that dead-weight asshole to harm Ishtahar.”
    “None of us will,” Michael said. “And language, Uriel.”
    Uriel rolled his eyes but said nothing.
    “What of your sons, Ish?” Raziel asked, moving to sit on the floor nearby.
    Ishtahar sighed. “I do not know, Raziel. I have tried to contact them, but….” She trailed off miserably.
    “The last Nephilim,” Samael mused. “They avoid us as it is; I cannot see them seeking us out now.”
    “What we should first do,” Raziel said, “is find Ishtahar’s sons and then take them and her somewhere safe that we can protect.”
    Remiel frowned. “What’s wrong with here?”
    “You didn’t ward it enough,” Raziel said bluntly.
    Gabriel and Michael exchanged a long look. Their island, hidden as it was, would be a perfect spot to hide Ishtahar and her two Nephilim sons. Before he could suggest it, Raziel continued, and Gabriel bit his tongue.
    “Therefore, I recommend the island of Iona.”
    “Where’s that?” Uriel asked.
    “Scotland. Far northern Scotland, to be precise. It’s one of the holiest places on Earth. Touched by God, and His hand is evident everywhere. Being an island, it’ll be easier to defend, too, if it comes to that. Easier than Mecca or Jerusalem or Vatican City or Stonehenge or any number of holy places that are not islands.”
    Michael gave Gabriel a small smile, and Gabriel smiled back. He was relieved that they hadn’t had to offer their island. It was selfish of him, Gabriel knew, but the island in the Pacific was theirs, and it was where they had bonded. It was as close to sacred as Gabriel had ever come during his time on Earth.
    “I feel the same, da bao .”