"Oops?" Cyrille snapped, looking between the two. "What is 'oops', Katalin?"

"Uh," Kate laughed nervously. "Well, I... I know where the archangels went."

"Where?"

"Umm... Ireland."

"Why are they in Ireland?!"

"Because I," she gave another nervous laugh. "I kind of... sent them there."

"Katalin," It took a serious effort for him to keep his tone calm and his temper under control. "As much as I enjoy playing twenty questions, I am going to have to insist that you explain in excruciating detail."

"It wasn't on purpose!" she insisted quickly. "I... I didn't even mean to do it. It was when we were down in the catacombs and when I was in withdrawal. I guess I... I must have been hallucinating, and... and I sent an archangel to the veil... to find my dad."

The memory of the archangel killing itself in the catacombs came back in vivid detail. The way Kate looked and spoke to it. It had responded to her will, even though she was lost in a fevered delusion. "You," Cyrille gaped at her. "You sent them to the veil? And... they...?

"They found them," she finished for him, looking back up at the archangel. "The divide between this realm and the veil is thin in Ireland. The archangels have gathered there to... I don't know... set off some kind of beacon into the veil, I think. Whatever they did, it worked. Lust and the archangel are just on the other side, but... they need the power of a Sin to pull them out. They want me to go with them."

"Absolutely not!" he snarled, and it was directed at the archangel this time. "Are you out of your mind? You want her to go there?"

"Someone... must open the door," Kade looked between them, frowning. "Go where? What door?"

"Dún na Rí," Cyrille hissed, glowering at the demonic warrior. "It's the place we emerged for the first time. It is the only place a Sin can be pulled over. It's not just a thin curtain, it's a fucking door that can only be opened from this side. There is no telling how many demons will come pouring out of the veil once it's opened, almost all of them will be products of Envy, and there is no guarantee that Lust will even make it out. To top it all off, it's right in the middle of Seelie territory, so, no, Katalin, you are not going!"

Slowly, the archangel tilted its head. Even without a face to show emotion, Cyrille didn't need Kate to translate to catch what it said.

"I'm not going either," he said flatly. "What if Envy comes for her while I'm gone? Only a Sin can kill another Sin, and her parentage does not make her one. So we deal with Envy first, then, and only then I will entertain the idea of approaching the damn Fae King to pull Lust through."

"I didn't know you needed permission to do something."

The way Kate scowled told him the statement didn't come from the archangel. Leaning across the bed, he gripped her arm, dragged her back, and forced her to meet his eyes. "I am not Pride," he said in a low warning tone. "I will not be goaded into a suicide run, even for you. The Seelie King is not currently hunting me, and I would like to keep it that way. Dún na Rí is off limits for demons without his blessing." His eyes softened then, and he brushed his palm over her cheek. "I know you miss your father, kitten. Lust is my family too. I'm not saying no, I'm saying not now."

She lowered her eyes, and her shoulders drooped. She hadn't entirely shut down like he'd seen before, but it was obvious she wasn't happy. Her head tilted slightly towards the archangel and narrowed her eyes again. "How?" she asked softly. Cyrille waited for an explanation, but her eyes widened in horror a second later. She whipped around and snapped at the archangel. "Are you insane?!"

"What this time?" his lip curled in another snarl.

"It said you can draw Envy's attention by seeking asylum with the fae."

"Oh,"

Kate looked sharply up at him, eyes blazing. "No! We just talked about this, I don't trust-"

"This has nothing to do with the Counsel. This is a treaty between demon and fae... and old treaty but still in effect, nonetheless."

"But-"

"I know, I know, you don't trust them. That's fine, you don't have to. You don't actually have to go near them. Listen, when demon and fae crossed from the veil for the first time, the only other breeds were the dragons, their kin, and the elves. Breeds that are far more powerful in bruit strength and magical inclination than any species from the veil. We knew none of us would be looked on kindly by them and would receive no help from any level, especially for any internal strife. So, we made a deal. Over time, as we developed governance, that deal turned to a treaty, and at the development of the Counsel, it was legitimized into Counsel law.

"A very, very long story cut criminally short is that if there is an internal dispute between demons or fae, we can call on the other breed for asylum. The fae have used it many times since their civil war began, and we have always upheld our end. They will uphold theirs, and the best part is we don't even have to follow through."

"I don't... I don't understand."

"I call the Seelie King and request asylum on your behalf. He is required to alert every demonic and faerie faction and inform them that you are untouchable until he can meet with me, as I put in the request, you, as you are the one in need of asylum, and any of those who are with or opposed. Then, I will have a reason to be there, and I can pop open the door, grab Lust, and get the hell out of there while the fae are dealing with Envy and their creations."

"I thought you didn't want me going there."

"Oh, you're still not going. Your cute little ass is staying at Tentation in the dead zone or in the Catacombs. Envy no longer has a presence in you, they cannot track you. But, they will assume that I wouldn't leave you alone, regardless, and once they hear about the asylum request, they come to Ireland assuming you are there."

"Two things," her eyes narrowed again, and he was struck by how damn adorable her skepticism and paranoia were. "Why didn't you mention this before? And why would you do this if you want to keep a good relationship with the Seelie King?"

He shrugged to both. "Didn't think of it. It is very rarely used on our side. When demons die, they go back to the veil and can be pulled out anywhere with enough power except for the Sins. We have always upheld our end because it is beneficial to us, and it will not be the first time it has been used to gain an advantage in a fight. I'll sooner be forgiven for that than simply strolling into Dún na Rí without permission. You are, however, not going to like this next part," he grimaced. "For this to work in the time we want, I will need to tell them that you are pregnant, that you are being hunted by the Organization, and that Khalid is compromised."

"No."

"I don't need to tell them why the Organization is coming after you. I'll keep it vague. Hell, I'll tell them they're hunting you because you're pregnant with my child. That alone will get their wings into high gear."

"No! If you tell them about the Organization, they will have to tell the rest of the Counsel!"

"Eventually. Not before I retrieve Lust and get you both in the Catacombs, and certainly not before Celeste has Khalid replaced. It is exactly what we just discussed, but this just... speeds things up a bit."

She was quiet for a few minutes, searching his eyes and considering everything he told her. "Will you be in danger?" she finally asked.

"Oh, most certainly. There is no more dangerous place for a demon to be than in the middle of Dún na Rí."

Cyrille instantly regretted making the grim joke. Kate's eyes flared, and her entire body went stiff. "You're not going," she snapped. "We'll find another way to deal with Envy. Another safer way."

"There is never going to be a safe way to kill Envy."

"And what if it doesn't work? What if they show up here and you're not? What if-"

"Hey, it's okay. It's all going to be okay." Cyrille cupped her cheeks, holding her still and pushing some of his magic through the bond to calm her back down. "Everything is going to be fine. I promise, Katalin. I'll only be gone a couple nights, a week at the most, that's it. I will destroy Envy, pull Lust out of the veil, and I will bring them home. Then, when they've had some time to recover, we will focus on finding Wrath."

"Cyrille, I love my parents. I would love nothing more than to have them back, but I need you more right now. We need you. I... I know what it's like to grow up without a father. I don't want that for our child. Please don't go."

Cyrille stroked her cheeks and pulled her into a soft kiss. "I will never let that happen, Katalin. I promise."

She still looked doubtful and glanced back at the archangel. She went quiet again, a thin ring of gold glowing in her eyes, before the color completely took over and a look of angered determination settled on her face. "Okay," she stood up on the bed, clutching the sheet around her body, and stepped up to the now-rising archangel. It still towered over her, and it was strange to see his timid little mate face the demon warrior without a trace of fear. She held out her hand to Cyrille. "Give me your hand."

"What are you doing?" he asked and hesitantly put his hand in hers.

"Giving you an archangel."

Before he could even process what she said, she jerked him forward, used a claw to cut open his palm, and slapped it down on the archangel's hand. White-hot pain exploded in his hand and up his forearm. He tried pulling away, but the archangel closed its fingers around his hand and wrist and held him firm. Moments later, its eyes flared bright gold, then disappeared as they turned as black as Cyrille's. Then, it dissolved into silvery grey mist and disappeared. Cyrille stared at his hand, already healed, panting for breath. His arm felt stiff, like his skin was pulled too tight, but it looked no different. "What do you mean," he gasped. "Giving me an archangel?"

"Exactly what it sounds like," she flopped back down among the pillows, eyes fluttering in exhaustion. "That demon is yours to command now. As if it were one of your own creations. It will defend you as if you were me or mom."

"Oh, kitten," he shook his head and crawled up the bed to lie next to her. "You didn't need to do that."

"Yes, I did. I'm not losing you too."

He chuckled and pulled her into his chest. "Nothing will stand in my way of getting back to you."

"When will you go?"

"Tonight. There's no point in delaying. The sooner I go, the sooner I'll be back, and the better chance I have of opening the door before Envy gets there."

Hiding her face in his chest didn't stop him from smelling the salt of her tears. "Don't leave without saying goodbye. Please."

"Wouldn't dream of it, kitten," he purred, brushing her hair back from her eyes, and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Now sleep, love. You need it. In a few nights, this will all be over. You will never need to worry about Envy again."

She fell asleep in seconds. Cyrille drew the rest of the blankets up to her shoulders and kissed her cheek. Then, needing to assure himself once more, he reached out to check on that little strand of magic again. There it was. Small and strong, undeniably alive. He still couldn't believe he was going to be a father.

Only a few nights. It will be only a few nights. She will be safe. Celeste will take care of her.

Telling himself that didn't make it any easier to get out of the bed and walk away.

Celeste should be in the Catacombs now, so she wouldn't be able to answer her phone, but he sent her a message anyway if she came back sooner than expected. He also needed to contact the harpies that lived on the surface and did as much to benefit the reputations of demons as Envy did to sour it. Lydia, as she called herself these days, was the only viable replacement for Khalid so soon.

He reached the main floor of the house while looking into the flights from Paris to Dublin and saw Raphaël standing on the covered porch.

Raphaël and Aarón. Two things he had not yet taken into consideration. Danika was a third. He couldn't risk letting Katalin get mixed up any further with their war. He'd already let it get too far out of hand.

Stepping out on the patio, Cyrille leaned against the railing next to the vampire. He was slowly turning a vial of blood in his fingers and staring at the spot where Danika had been exposed to the sun. "I can't believe it worked," he said in a hoarse whisper. "All this time. How was he going to prove it to us? He wouldn't be so stupid as to shove his soulmate out in the sun, would he? Could he even do that?"

"If they truly believe it would not hurt them, soulmates can do a great deal to each other," Cyrille shrugged. "Harm is objective to a point, but with the right ratio of narcissism and wilful denial, someone would be able to completely ignore those loose magical laws that command them to do no harm to their soulmate."

Raphaël made a contemplative sound and held the vial up for closer inspection. "Who knew," he whispered. "Just a mouthful of blood. A single sip. It's that easy."

"I would not consider that easy by any means, Raphaël," Cyrille turned his head to glare at his friend. "You are not so stupid to walk up to a dragon and demand their blood, and you are not reckless enough to try to take it by force."

"Aarón did..."

"And that should tell you more than enough of the situation. The Organization chose you as their tool against the vampires. She chose Aarón." He sighed heavily and tapped an anxious rhythm with his thumbs. "You need to cut ties with them. All of them. The Organization, the dragon, and Aarón."

"You're being a bit dramatic, don't you think? We've accomplished a lot in the last six months. We're ready to take the offensive to Constantine and Nolan. Everyone gets what they want."

"I cannot protect you any longer."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You just want to watch the chaos unfold. You can't let your legion get in the middle of it, but you and Celeste can help me make a hoard of pleasure-starved vamps. You won't stand in the way of my getting killed, but when a werewolf comes walking in-"

"Katalin is pregnant."

Raphaël finally looked up from the vial. "Are you serious?" he asked, and when Cyrille nodded, a huge smile spread across his face. "Congratulations. A bit sudden, but hey! When is anyone one hundred percent ready?"

"It's about the worst possible timing you can imagine," Cyrille chuckled despite himself. "She's being hunted by one of the other Sins and the Organization. They're behind everything. All the pain in her life because of them. I am going to Ireland to stop one, but there is very little I can do about the other."

"Ah," the smile slipped off his face, and he deflated somewhat. "That is... Merde... This whole thing has gotten so out of control."

"Walk away," Cyrille said for what felt like the thousandth time since they got into this mess. "You were doing this for your own reasons in the beginning, but now you are a pawn in an entirely different game. Go to the city. I'll bring you a harem of blood donors if that's what you like."

"I don't think your people would be pleased about that. They were mad enough when you showed me the city the first time."

"Let me deal with the legion. They will have plenty to distract themselves with Katalin's pregnancy."

Raphaël looked at the blood again and shook his head. "Thank you, Cyrille. But no. I've come this far. Organization or no, dragon or no... I'm going to finish this."

"You are going to die a useless death."

"Consider it a baby shower gift," the vampire smirked. "Imagine all the chaos you'll get to watch as the vampire and werewolf worlds burn."

"A wonderful gift, however, soured by the death of my friend and Katalin's."

"Aarón said the blood would cut the tie between Danika and Constantine. He was right about the sun, maybe-"

"Raphaël," Cyrille interrupted in a cold, harsh tone. "We have been friends for so long because you were never idealistically naïve. You have never allowed yourself to get caught up in dreams void of reality. I told you in the beginning what would happen. You are made, not born. You are tied to the first vampire as the made wolves were tied to the first lycanthrope. When Constantine dies, so will you, Danika, and every other made vampire on this earth. If Aarón wants to believe dragon blood will save his soulmate from the consequences of this war, then so be it. I will not let you get lost in those delusions."

Raphaël swallowed hard, and his heart thumped loudly in his chest, faster than the typically slow pace for a vampire. "Right," he finally said quietly. "Are you going to tell Aarón?"

"Aarón's target is Nolan Wes, not Constantine Moureaux. The deaths of Danika and countless other made vampires will be on your hands, Raphaël. Not his."

"And Kate? Are you going to tell her that her best friend is going to die?"

"I have promised Katalin that I will not kill Danika with my own hands. I will not break that promise."

"She's going to be pissed if she ever finds out you knew."

"I will be coming back with her father at the very least if all goes well. She will be too distracted to learn the truth."

"Talking about idealistic naiveté," Raphaël breathed out the sigh of a man who had lived too long and was too tired for this shit. "Are you going to drink yours?"

"Not for all the souls in this world or any other. The vampire and lycanthrope breeds were made possible because of the blood of dragons. So it stands to reason that you, Danika, and Aarón would gain benefits from drinking it. There is no evidence it would do the same for me. Besides," a genuine shudder of fear went through Cyrille, and the hair on the back of his neck rose. "Blood from any creature that commands hellfire is far more likely to kill me."

"I think it's most likely she kills us all anyway. She's supposed to be dead, remember?"

All the more reason to make the catacombs safe for Katalin again, Cyrille thought urgently.

He needed to let his nature take over and be selfish. Destroy Envy. Release Lust. Let Danika die with the vampires. The separation from her will remove any reason for Kate to risk returning to the surface. He needed to focus on what was best for him, his mate, and their child.

But as he looked down at the vampire uncorking the vial of dragon blood, an unfamiliar feeling of sadness washed over him. He had been following Raphaël for two hundred years, ever since Constantine turned him into a vampire. "I am going to miss you, Raphaël."

"Bullshit," Raphaël barked out a laugh but couldn't hide the strain in his voice either. "You'll be too busy chasing after that spawn of yours. Do me a favor, and don't do something stupid like naming it after me."

"Wouldn't dream of it." He watched Raphaël tilt his head back and swallow the blood in one gulp, unable to shake the stony feeling of dread growing in his gut.

The vampire stared up at the sky beyond the porch's overhang, a slight smile on his face. "Is it wrong that I'm alright with dying with Constantine?" he asked more to himself than to Cyrille. "So many are going to die... I should care. But I am so tired, and it will all be over soon. I wonder... Danika said one of the key aspects of Templar combat is treating like every fight is your last. What kind of effect will it have when I know it's my last fight?"

Cyrille didn't know what to say to that, so he didn't say anything. The two night-stalkers stood quietly staring into the impossibly blue sky for a long time. Raphaël was right about one thing; everything they had all worked towards was coming to an end, whether they knew it or not.

~