"Thomas E. Sniegoski - Aerie" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sniegoski Thomas E)

remotely angelic since we leftMaine."

Gabriel stuck his head between the frontseats."Then we really should eat first. Right, Camael?" he
asked, eyeing the bags resting onthe seat."Can't go after angels on an empty stomach, that's what I
always say."The dog had begunto drool, spattering the emergency break.

Camael moved his arm so as not to besplashed and glared at the animal. "I do notneed to eat," he
snarled, apparently very sensitive to the recent craving he had developed forFrench fries.

Aaron opened the back door of the car andmotioned for Gabriel to get out. "C'mon," hesaid to them
both. "We have to hurry or we'lllose them."
 "May I have a few fries before we go?"the dogasked as he leaped from the car to the parkinglot."Just
to hold me over until we get back."

Aaron ignored his dog and slammed thedoor closed, anxious to be on his way.

"Do you think this wise?" Camael asked ashe removed himself from the front seat of the car."To draw
attention to ourselves in such a way?"

Aaron knew there was a risk in confrontingthe angels, but if they were ever going to find hisbrother they
had to take the chance. "ThePowers answer to Verchiel, and he's the one whotook Stevie," Aaron said,
hoping that the angelwould understand. "I don't think I could live with myself if I didn't at least try to find
outwhat they know."

Camael moved around the car casually buttoning his dark suit jacket, impeccable asalways. "You do
realize that this will likely endin death."

"Tell me something I don't know," Aaronsaid as he turned away from his companionsand followed the
dwindling trail of angel scentsinto the dense woods behind the fast-foodrestaurant.

No matter how he tried to distract himself,Verchiel found himself drawn to the classroomwithin the St.
Athanasius Orphanage where the prisoner was held.

Standing in the shadows of the room, theangel stared at the huddled figure feigning sleepwithin his prison,
and marveled at how a merecage of iron could contain an evil so vast.Verchiel would destroy the
prisoner if he could,but even he was loath to admit that he did nothave the power to accomplish such a
task. He would have to take a level of satisfaction fromthe evil one's containment, at least for now. When
matters with the Nephilim and the accursed prophecy were properly settled, then he couldconcentrate on
an appropriate punishment forthe captive.

"Am I that fascinating a specimen?" the prisoner asked from his cage. He slowly broughthimself to a
sitting position, his back against thebars. In his hand he held a gray furred mouseand gently stroked its
tiny skull with an indexfinger. "I don't believe we saw this much of eachother when we still lived in
Heaven."

Verchiel bristled at the mention of his formerhome; it had been too long since last he lookedupon its
glorious spires and the memory of its beauty was almost too painful to bear. "Thosewere different times,"
he said coldly. "And we ...different beings." The leader of the Powers suddenly wanted to leave the
room, to be away fromthe criminal responsible for so much misery, buthe stayed, both revolted and
mesmerized by thefallen angel and all he had come to embody.