Fic: Rogue (Gabriel/M, Gabriel/F, PG-13) 31/36
For full notes and other chapters, please see the Masterpost.
Notes: This is the third part of the Missing an Angel series. It is recommended that you read the first two before reading this one.
The consecration ritual used in this chapter has been taken from The Book of Common Prayer.
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Chapter word count: 1,898
Chapter Summary: Work begins on the railways, but Gabriel is less than pleased.
CHAPTER 31:
Of Smiles and Kurds
It had been Colt’s idea to add churches to the five points of the iron pentagram being built across the prairie. Gives the railways an excuse to run, he explained, when laying out his idea to Gabriel and Jane. Plus, they’re holy. Against demons-
Every extra bit of strength can only help us.
That had been the first time Jane had smiled at Colt, a real smile, not the knife-sharp smirk of Miss Richardson, but the innocent joy of Gabriel’s daughter. It wasn’t the last. Not that Gabriel was counting or anything like that, but Jane had been spending a lot of time in the company of Samuel Colt ever since this project began, and she genuinely smiled at the man at least once every time they were together.
No, Gabriel wasn’t counting.
The angel hopped easily from roof to tower, climbing the first finished church to reach the highest point of the steeple. Lightning flickered across the night sky, but that was a near-constant companion these days. The workers Colt had found were uneasy about the never-ending storm, but so long as Colt continued to insist lightning storms were perfectly normal for this part of the country, most of the men didn’t know enough to raise a fuss.
The men were largely immigrants from the east, brought out to Missouri by train and then ferried across the prairie in great chains of wagons. Gabriel had been hesitant about the extra time needed to bring the workers to the location, but as Colt pointed out, the ignorance of the men who had never seen the prairie was far more valuable than the close proximity of the laborers from the few little towns in the area. Colt had hired several recruiters in the big port cities of Boston, New York, Philadelphia, and Charleston, offering guaranteed jobs to men fresh off the ships. The pay was fair for a day’s work, with promise of a generous bonus if the railways were laid ahead of schedule. Once the men started arriving in the west, their flow remained steady.
Gabriel wrapped his hands around the cross inserted at the top of the church tower and spread his wings wide, revealing the full glory of an Archangel to…
Well, to Jane, who was standing on the ground in front of the church, keeping watch. They were doing this well past midnight in the hopes of keeping any onlookers from wondering why the Hell Mr. Lucas was clambering all over the roof. None of the humans would have been able to see his wings, but they might see the shadowy aftereffects highlighted against the clouds when the lightning danced.
“Let the doors be opened!” Gabriel called down to Jane. She nodded, stepping forward to throw the doors of the church open wide. Gabriel bowed his head and closed his eyes, drawing from his grace and feeding it into the building through the cross as stealthily as he could, so as not to attract his brothers’ attention. “Peace be to this house, and to all who enter here,” he murmured, reciting a time-honored consecration rite. “In the name of my Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”
Lightning flashed above Gabriel, and he smiled at its timeliness as he continued speaking the prayers of consecration, imbuing the building with his own power. A church alone was holy enough to bolster the trap, but a blessed temple of an Archangel couldn’t be desecrated even by the strongest of demons. Beelzebub wouldn’t be able to set foot in this place once Gabriel finished the ritual. “Now, O Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, sanctify this place; for everything in Heaven and on Earth is yours. Yours, O Lord, is the kingdom, and you are exalted as head over all. Amen.”
Gabriel sliced cleanly through the thread of his grace and tied it to the cross, anchoring the power he had filled the building with for as long as it stood. “All clear, Jane!” he called before pulling a wing forward and combing his fingers through the feathers to find the perfect one to use as a relic inside the church to further strengthen its holiness.
“Miss Richardson? What are you doing here?”
The angel tensed briefly, leaping off the tower and scuttling to the edge of the church to look down. Colt was approaching Jane, his hat held in one hand, a lantern in the other. “It’s late. Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
“I was admiring the craftsmanship of our fine builders, Mr. Colt.” Jane turned smoothly on her heel to approach the door of the church and pull it shut. “This church is a work of art, far more beautiful than I expected given our time restraints. I look forward to seeing what the other four are like.”
“We’ve been very lucky with the men we’ve acquired,” Colt agreed. “They don’t ask too many questions; they simply do their work to the best of their abilities.”
“As do we all, Mr. Colt.” As Jane turned back to Colt, Gabriel felt the first rub of rot against his senses. Demon! Before he could shout a warning, it was upon them, racing out from the darkness with black eyes and a scream.
“Look out!” Jane was the one to shout, leaping toward Colt and grabbing his gun from his belt. She fired just once into the darkness, the bullet flying cleaning between the demon’s eyes. It didn’t kill the creature, but it stunned it just long enough for Gabriel to launch himself from the rooftop, his enchanted knife in his hand. The demon fell back with the weight of the angel on top of him, and Gabriel drove the knife deep into the creature’s throat. It died with a gurgle, the demon itself briefly flashing orange within its meatsuit.
“Miss Richardson!” Colt cried. “Mr. Lucas!”
“Demon,” Gabriel spat, wiping his hand over his mouth and pushing himself to his feet. “Didn’t take the time to adjust the perimeter on this place yet to compensate for the completion of the church.” Consecrating the building had disrupted the wards Gabriel had etched around the land to try to keep the workers as safe as possible from the demonic threat growing around the Gate. Beelzebub wasn’t the only demon in the area anymore. All of Wyoming was becoming a hotspot for demonic activity as they gathered around and tried to get to the gate. “My apologies, Miss Richardson. This seems to be the only one around.”
Jane waved her hand dismissively at Gabriel. “It’s quite all right, Mr. Lucas. I know you’re doing your best. We haven’t lost a man yet to the demons, and we didn’t start tonight. All is well. Mr. Colt, my apologies for taking this from you.” Jane turned the gun around in her hands and offered it to the hunter handle first. “I didn’t have time to think.”
Colt slowly accepted the gun from Jane, looking back to the demon. “That was a crack shot,” he said. “This distance, at night… I thought you weren’t a hunter.”
Jane shrugged, clasping her hands together. “Perhaps it’s more accurate to say hunting is not my primary focus these days, but I am far from defenseless.”
“And you!” Colt turned on Gabriel, scowling. “How did you…?”
“Was inspecting the roof,” Gabriel grunted, pushing himself to his feet and wiping his knife off across his vest. “Heard the commotion.” Mr. Lucas was a man of few words. Gabriel had to remember to let Jane handle the situation.
“But you killed it.” Colt strode across the path to Gabriel’s side, yanking the knife from his hands. “With this? What is this?”
“Mr. Colt!” Jane crossed the path after Colt, her boots crunching in the gravel. “If you recall, I have employed Mr. Lucas to protect us from demons! It is only natural that he have weapons in his arsenal capable of actually killing them. Kindly return his knife to him.”
“I’ve never seen a knife that could kill a demon before,” Colt muttered, though he did pass the knife back to Gabriel. “Didn’t even know it was possible for such a thing to exist.”
“Well, that one just happens to be an ancient demon-killing knife of the Kurds,” Jane shot back. “Very rare. Very useful.”
Kurds? Gabriel sniggered inwardly but only allowed his face to radiate angelic impassiveness. Jane was doing just fine here.
Colt was mouthing the description back to himself as Jane looped her arm through Gabriel’s and offered Colt a tight smile of annoyance rather than happiness. Gabriel tried not to smile himself. “If we’re done here, Mr. Colt, Mr. Lucas will see me back to my tent, and then he will repair the perimeter to ensure our men are kept safe.”
“Huh? Yes, yes, of course…”
“Good night, Mr. Colt.”
“Good night, Miss Richardson.”
Gabriel allowed Jane to lead him away, waiting until they were out of earshot to ask, “Kurds?”
“Oh, shut up,” Jane swatted his arm. “It’s not like I could say ‘he pulled it out of his grace!’”
“The Kurds were a very nice people,” Gabriel mused, patting Jane’s arm over his. “Not exactly known for their demon-hunting abilities, but I think we can work with it.”
“I know I’ve heard of them before, so I assumed they had some religious significance…”
“Some say they’re the descendants of djinn,” Gabriel explained. “Others say they’re related to angels. I can work some demon-slaying into their history when this whole mess is done, whip up a nice little backstory for this knife of mine.”
“You could have just used your sword,” Jane pointed out. “There was only one demon, and you killed him. No witnesses.”
Gabriel shook his head. “Colt witnessed it. I don’t want to risk him, or anyone else here, seeing my blade. All it takes is the wrong man getting possessed, and the truth could come out.”
“So you’re sticking with your ancient demon-killing knife of the Kurds?”
“As long as I can remember what you called it!”
Jane rolled her eyes, barely visible in the dark, but then she reached up to squeeze Gabriel’s arm with her free hand. “More seriously though, Papa, are you okay? That demon was practically upon us, and Beelzebub managed to best you in a fight, and there was that time with the three demons when we were gathering photographs…”
Gabriel covered her hand with his, looking solemnly at her. “I am well, Jane, physically uninjured.”
“But?” she prompted.
“But I’ve noticed my reaction times have been slower here.” Gabriel looked beyond Jane, toward the heart of this whole mess, where the Gate was opening. “I think it’s affecting me. This concentration of Hell… it’s like leaden weights tied to my wings. I never noticed it before, when I was actually in Hell, but I also never stayed in Hell as long as I’ve stayed here.”
“We have to pick up the pace, then,” Jane decided. “If you’re this sluggish after only the first church, I can’t imagine how much worse you’ll be by the end of all five. Beelzebub himself is bound to come back and try to stop us, correct?” Gabriel nodded slowly. “Then we need to have you in the best fighting condition possible. You’re the only one of us who can stand up to him.”
Next...
Notes: This is the third part of the Missing an Angel series. It is recommended that you read the first two before reading this one.
The consecration ritual used in this chapter has been taken from The Book of Common Prayer.
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Chapter word count: 1,898
Chapter Summary: Work begins on the railways, but Gabriel is less than pleased.
CHAPTER 31:
Of Smiles and Kurds
It had been Colt’s idea to add churches to the five points of the iron pentagram being built across the prairie. Gives the railways an excuse to run, he explained, when laying out his idea to Gabriel and Jane. Plus, they’re holy. Against demons-
Every extra bit of strength can only help us.
That had been the first time Jane had smiled at Colt, a real smile, not the knife-sharp smirk of Miss Richardson, but the innocent joy of Gabriel’s daughter. It wasn’t the last. Not that Gabriel was counting or anything like that, but Jane had been spending a lot of time in the company of Samuel Colt ever since this project began, and she genuinely smiled at the man at least once every time they were together.
No, Gabriel wasn’t counting.
The angel hopped easily from roof to tower, climbing the first finished church to reach the highest point of the steeple. Lightning flickered across the night sky, but that was a near-constant companion these days. The workers Colt had found were uneasy about the never-ending storm, but so long as Colt continued to insist lightning storms were perfectly normal for this part of the country, most of the men didn’t know enough to raise a fuss.
The men were largely immigrants from the east, brought out to Missouri by train and then ferried across the prairie in great chains of wagons. Gabriel had been hesitant about the extra time needed to bring the workers to the location, but as Colt pointed out, the ignorance of the men who had never seen the prairie was far more valuable than the close proximity of the laborers from the few little towns in the area. Colt had hired several recruiters in the big port cities of Boston, New York, Philadelphia, and Charleston, offering guaranteed jobs to men fresh off the ships. The pay was fair for a day’s work, with promise of a generous bonus if the railways were laid ahead of schedule. Once the men started arriving in the west, their flow remained steady.
Gabriel wrapped his hands around the cross inserted at the top of the church tower and spread his wings wide, revealing the full glory of an Archangel to…
Well, to Jane, who was standing on the ground in front of the church, keeping watch. They were doing this well past midnight in the hopes of keeping any onlookers from wondering why the Hell Mr. Lucas was clambering all over the roof. None of the humans would have been able to see his wings, but they might see the shadowy aftereffects highlighted against the clouds when the lightning danced.
“Let the doors be opened!” Gabriel called down to Jane. She nodded, stepping forward to throw the doors of the church open wide. Gabriel bowed his head and closed his eyes, drawing from his grace and feeding it into the building through the cross as stealthily as he could, so as not to attract his brothers’ attention. “Peace be to this house, and to all who enter here,” he murmured, reciting a time-honored consecration rite. “In the name of my Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”
Lightning flashed above Gabriel, and he smiled at its timeliness as he continued speaking the prayers of consecration, imbuing the building with his own power. A church alone was holy enough to bolster the trap, but a blessed temple of an Archangel couldn’t be desecrated even by the strongest of demons. Beelzebub wouldn’t be able to set foot in this place once Gabriel finished the ritual. “Now, O Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, sanctify this place; for everything in Heaven and on Earth is yours. Yours, O Lord, is the kingdom, and you are exalted as head over all. Amen.”
Gabriel sliced cleanly through the thread of his grace and tied it to the cross, anchoring the power he had filled the building with for as long as it stood. “All clear, Jane!” he called before pulling a wing forward and combing his fingers through the feathers to find the perfect one to use as a relic inside the church to further strengthen its holiness.
“Miss Richardson? What are you doing here?”
The angel tensed briefly, leaping off the tower and scuttling to the edge of the church to look down. Colt was approaching Jane, his hat held in one hand, a lantern in the other. “It’s late. Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
“I was admiring the craftsmanship of our fine builders, Mr. Colt.” Jane turned smoothly on her heel to approach the door of the church and pull it shut. “This church is a work of art, far more beautiful than I expected given our time restraints. I look forward to seeing what the other four are like.”
“We’ve been very lucky with the men we’ve acquired,” Colt agreed. “They don’t ask too many questions; they simply do their work to the best of their abilities.”
“As do we all, Mr. Colt.” As Jane turned back to Colt, Gabriel felt the first rub of rot against his senses. Demon! Before he could shout a warning, it was upon them, racing out from the darkness with black eyes and a scream.
“Look out!” Jane was the one to shout, leaping toward Colt and grabbing his gun from his belt. She fired just once into the darkness, the bullet flying cleaning between the demon’s eyes. It didn’t kill the creature, but it stunned it just long enough for Gabriel to launch himself from the rooftop, his enchanted knife in his hand. The demon fell back with the weight of the angel on top of him, and Gabriel drove the knife deep into the creature’s throat. It died with a gurgle, the demon itself briefly flashing orange within its meatsuit.
“Miss Richardson!” Colt cried. “Mr. Lucas!”
“Demon,” Gabriel spat, wiping his hand over his mouth and pushing himself to his feet. “Didn’t take the time to adjust the perimeter on this place yet to compensate for the completion of the church.” Consecrating the building had disrupted the wards Gabriel had etched around the land to try to keep the workers as safe as possible from the demonic threat growing around the Gate. Beelzebub wasn’t the only demon in the area anymore. All of Wyoming was becoming a hotspot for demonic activity as they gathered around and tried to get to the gate. “My apologies, Miss Richardson. This seems to be the only one around.”
Jane waved her hand dismissively at Gabriel. “It’s quite all right, Mr. Lucas. I know you’re doing your best. We haven’t lost a man yet to the demons, and we didn’t start tonight. All is well. Mr. Colt, my apologies for taking this from you.” Jane turned the gun around in her hands and offered it to the hunter handle first. “I didn’t have time to think.”
Colt slowly accepted the gun from Jane, looking back to the demon. “That was a crack shot,” he said. “This distance, at night… I thought you weren’t a hunter.”
Jane shrugged, clasping her hands together. “Perhaps it’s more accurate to say hunting is not my primary focus these days, but I am far from defenseless.”
“And you!” Colt turned on Gabriel, scowling. “How did you…?”
“Was inspecting the roof,” Gabriel grunted, pushing himself to his feet and wiping his knife off across his vest. “Heard the commotion.” Mr. Lucas was a man of few words. Gabriel had to remember to let Jane handle the situation.
“But you killed it.” Colt strode across the path to Gabriel’s side, yanking the knife from his hands. “With this? What is this?”
“Mr. Colt!” Jane crossed the path after Colt, her boots crunching in the gravel. “If you recall, I have employed Mr. Lucas to protect us from demons! It is only natural that he have weapons in his arsenal capable of actually killing them. Kindly return his knife to him.”
“I’ve never seen a knife that could kill a demon before,” Colt muttered, though he did pass the knife back to Gabriel. “Didn’t even know it was possible for such a thing to exist.”
“Well, that one just happens to be an ancient demon-killing knife of the Kurds,” Jane shot back. “Very rare. Very useful.”
Kurds? Gabriel sniggered inwardly but only allowed his face to radiate angelic impassiveness. Jane was doing just fine here.
Colt was mouthing the description back to himself as Jane looped her arm through Gabriel’s and offered Colt a tight smile of annoyance rather than happiness. Gabriel tried not to smile himself. “If we’re done here, Mr. Colt, Mr. Lucas will see me back to my tent, and then he will repair the perimeter to ensure our men are kept safe.”
“Huh? Yes, yes, of course…”
“Good night, Mr. Colt.”
“Good night, Miss Richardson.”
Gabriel allowed Jane to lead him away, waiting until they were out of earshot to ask, “Kurds?”
“Oh, shut up,” Jane swatted his arm. “It’s not like I could say ‘he pulled it out of his grace!’”
“The Kurds were a very nice people,” Gabriel mused, patting Jane’s arm over his. “Not exactly known for their demon-hunting abilities, but I think we can work with it.”
“I know I’ve heard of them before, so I assumed they had some religious significance…”
“Some say they’re the descendants of djinn,” Gabriel explained. “Others say they’re related to angels. I can work some demon-slaying into their history when this whole mess is done, whip up a nice little backstory for this knife of mine.”
“You could have just used your sword,” Jane pointed out. “There was only one demon, and you killed him. No witnesses.”
Gabriel shook his head. “Colt witnessed it. I don’t want to risk him, or anyone else here, seeing my blade. All it takes is the wrong man getting possessed, and the truth could come out.”
“So you’re sticking with your ancient demon-killing knife of the Kurds?”
“As long as I can remember what you called it!”
Jane rolled her eyes, barely visible in the dark, but then she reached up to squeeze Gabriel’s arm with her free hand. “More seriously though, Papa, are you okay? That demon was practically upon us, and Beelzebub managed to best you in a fight, and there was that time with the three demons when we were gathering photographs…”
Gabriel covered her hand with his, looking solemnly at her. “I am well, Jane, physically uninjured.”
“But?” she prompted.
“But I’ve noticed my reaction times have been slower here.” Gabriel looked beyond Jane, toward the heart of this whole mess, where the Gate was opening. “I think it’s affecting me. This concentration of Hell… it’s like leaden weights tied to my wings. I never noticed it before, when I was actually in Hell, but I also never stayed in Hell as long as I’ve stayed here.”
“We have to pick up the pace, then,” Jane decided. “If you’re this sluggish after only the first church, I can’t imagine how much worse you’ll be by the end of all five. Beelzebub himself is bound to come back and try to stop us, correct?” Gabriel nodded slowly. “Then we need to have you in the best fighting condition possible. You’re the only one of us who can stand up to him.”
Next...