He introduced himself to me as Donovan Parnell—missionary to the wilds of India. Or at least he used to be. Now he resides in Manchester in a small boarding house less than three blocks from St. Agatha's. This, of course, was all some foolish façade, one that I was quick to see through.

He'd bowed his head and just begun to introduce himself as, "Mr. Donovan Parnell, at your service ma'am—" when I barreled into him.

I hugged him so tightly, so dearly to myself that I nearly forgot we were in the open space of the train station. "Oh, Michael. I had wondered when you might show yourself." I'd stepped back; held him at arms length, straighten the collar of his clean pressed shirt from where I'd mussed it and whispered, "I have missed you desperately."

His smile was wide and all too familiar to me. "I hear you are causing quite the fuss in London. What is it you've done?"

"I've yet to do anything."

He laughed. "Let's get settled in the carriage and we can speak further. Shall we?" His eyes found Hanny's and I watched as he placed his hand gently against the small of her back and guided her towards the exit of the train station. I followed along, my arm hooked securely in his. We had no bags, as this was quite the unanticipated trip, so it took us no time to begin our trip towards Michael's lodgings.

I quickly established the relationship between Hanny and Michael as being somewhat of a romantic one—or at least from his side of things. He most certainly felt for her, but I was unsure what her feelings of him were. He called her Uriel from the moment he greeted us in the train station and his use of her angelic name has continued thus far. She calls him Donovan, but that is probably due to our proximity to others who know him as such. I suppose I should do the same here.

Michael is very tall, nearly a foot above my meager height, and well built, with muscular arms and shoulders. He has dirty blond locks, which he has trimmed and oiled back. And, although I have not mentioned it, he has premature strands of silver threaded throughout. He is cleanly shaved and carries a faint, almost unnoticeable, scar that runs from his temple to his collarbone. If I did not know him to be the sweetest of gentlemen, he would intimidate me. 

But I do know him, and though he has quite a commanding presence, he is quick to tease and smile. What is more, it is clear that he regards Hanny and listens to her counsel. He does not judge her either, not like Gabriel would. He did not scold her for allowing me to go to the Ballantyne, even though I was certain he knew what had occurred.

He had to sneak us into his lodgings, past his sweet little landlady whom I am sure would disapprove of him keeping company with the fairer sex without the presence of a chaperone. Hanny thought the whole ordeal was scandalous. I thought it was a jolly good time. I'd long ago given up the dream of having a spotless reputation.

We'd taken up residence in his small bedroom and here we had remained, living off of marmalade toast and cold tea, for the past four days. In that short of time, I had rekindled my friendship with Michael—or, well, Donovan.

He is a splendid listener and we made quick work of updating him on the recent occurrences of my life. Even though he seemed to know all of what I was telling him, he still humored me and asked questions. He seemed particularly interested in my feelings towards Leviathan. If memory serves, they were once quite close. I wonder how he must feel, knowing what I have come to do. But he was my advocate; it was he who first pled my cause to Adonai. What damage might I cause by admitting that I now face trepidations at the idea of following through?

It had taken me days to finally confess my worries to Michael. He was the first real person I'd spoke to about it. He had remained up with me late this past night, long after the fire had burnt out and Hanny had retired to the bed in the far corner. He sat on the settee, the place where he'd slept every night of our being here.

"I have come to kill Leviathan and now I doubt killing him is right." The words had tasted bitter on my tongue, but I had not regretted speaking them. I needed someone else to know. If Michael knew, he could talk me into it. He could tell me what I must do. 

He had leaned close to me, keeping his voice soft so that we would not wake, or be overheard by, Hanny. "Do you remember why you wanted to do it in the first place?"

Yes. I did. 

The memory seemed to lurk in the shadows of my mind, lingering just out of reach, just far enough away that I had not entirely faced it. But I knew what it was. I knew what I would remember if I only forced myself to really look inward. 

I said, "I once heard that he'd kidnapped a young girl—a human child no more than fourteen or fifteen. He'd sold her to the highest bidder. Slavery of some sort. Something...like prostitution, but this girl was not willing. It was not her choice." I closed my eyes against the memory and the discomfort it gave me. "It broke something in me. I had heard of the evil the demons had been committing since the fall, but I had not been permitted to see it—but I collect tears, always have. And it became hard for me to ignore the tears that were being caused by Leviathan. The harm he was causing was far too great—I could no longer recognize him as the person I'd loved—the person I still love. I wanted it to end."

"You wanted what to end?"

"The suffering."

His brow furrowed and he quirked an eyebrow at me. "Your suffering or his?"

I hesitated, a lump forming in my throat as I considered what he was asking. "I suppose both."

Donovan straightened and stretched his long arms over the back of the settee. His gray eyes settled on me and I suddenly felt small. "And now you feel differently about him?" he said. 

I chewed my lip between my teeth. "I feel as if I have given you the wrong answer."

He shook his head. "No, you merely gave me the answer I had anticipated—after all, I only gave you two choices, why should you chose a third."

"And what was this third choice?"

"Humanity's suffering."

I sighed and pulled my knees into the armchair where I hugged them against my chest. I was very uneasy with this conversation, it was not angry, in fact neither of us had raised our voices—and yet I knew that the warrior angel was pursuing my character. He had wanted me to think of humanity, of myself, not of Leviathan. Cassiel would have thought only of Leviathan. 

I wanted to prove myself to him. "I asked for this mission, Michael, you know as well as I do that I will follow through with it. I, of course, did not mean to imply that humanity did not play a part in my desire to come here. I was only saying that it was my suffering, and that of Leviathan, which drove me to this particular moment."

He didn't look at me as he said, "You need not justify yourself to me."

"I will kill him," I said, hating the way my voice trembled with the words. "I do not know how, but I will."

He shook his head. "You must pray about it first."

"I can't."

The muscles in his arms tensed and he narrowed his eyes at me, concern etched on his handsome face. "Why ever not? It is not as if Adonai does not already know your feelings towards Leviathan—I assure you he knows your heart better than you even know it."

"I asked for this. I begged him to allow me to come to earth and end Leviathan's reign here. I promised Him that, if He allowed me to become human, I would end—"

He smiled. "My dear, your folly is that you forget that you are not God."

"I am not claiming to be—"

"You are not the one who never breaks promises—Adonai is."

I picked at a loose thread on the settee and said simply, "I cannot ask for anything else."

Michael stood up and walked to a large bureau next to the fireplace. He pulled open the top compartment and shuffled through its contents for some time. "I cannot force you to speak to Adonai, Cassiel, but I will remind you that He knows what you desire whether you state it outright or not. You may find," he said as he pulled something wrapped in cloth from the drawer, "that you will get further, perhaps gain answers, if you are transparent about your doubts. You are not unfailing—He is. If you believe you have made an error in judgment—"

"Not an error in judgment. I only believe that Leviathan himself has changed. I think perhaps—" I let the words die on my tongue, too afraid to speak them.

He looked at me then, waiting. "Perhaps what, my friend?"

"Can they be redeemed?" The question seemed to settle between us, heavy and solid. 

He was silent as he shut the drawer and walked back to the settee and sat down. He laid the small bundle down upon his knees and looked up at me. "I believe you would be wise to ask Adonai."

"But—"

"I believe we have exhausted such conversations. Speak to the one who sent you. See what He has to say on the matter."

"If I pray, ask for a direct answer, would you be willing to go before him and mediate?"

"Why don't you ask Gabriel, as it is his job to—?"

"You have done your fair share of message delivery." I swallowed. "Could you not find it in your heart to do so once again, for me?"

His lips twitched. "Cassiel, you shall run us all ragged with your beguiling requests."

"Beguiling requests? You speak as if I have attempted to bribe you."

He smiled, the gesture putting my heart at ease. "You are family to me, the request itself is its own bribe. It asks the silent question about my love for you and its undying limits." He winked. "But enough of that. You have come here with a purpose, one that I shall aid you in." He looked down at the cloth before him and slowly unwrapped it; just as he was about to undo the last fold, I rested my hand on his to stop him. His eyes darted to mine, concerned. "Yes, Cassiel?"

"You neglected to answer my question."

His next inhale was more forceful than was necessary, but his smile remained. "Yes. I shall go before Adonai and relay whatever message He sends—but only after you have prayed about it yourself. Yes?"

I nodded. "Of course."

"Now, if that is all, shall we begin?" I withdrew my hand from his and watched as he folded back the last layer of fabric. Beneath it laid the most exquisite blade I had ever seen. Upon closer inspection, I saw that it was made entirely from onyx and glass. 

Just like the one I'd seen several times in my nightmares. 

I pressed my palm to my lips to keep myself from making a noise and waking Hanny. The image of Leviathan plunging that blade into his own gut was enough to make my stomach churn. Donovan took my exclamation as a sound of praise. "Beautiful, is it not?"

I managed a nod before I recoiled further into my chair, wanting to distance myself from the weapon. "I can't use that."

He held it out, cradling it in his hands before me. "You can."

I did not take it. 

I knew what such a weapon was meant to do. I'd never owned one myself since I was not a warrior angel, but I had seen them many times. Michael and Gabriel both had them. They were not created until the war in heaven. Once lines were crossed and battle cries went up, we found ourselves in a situation that was entirely foreign to us—a true fight. We had never fought before, but now there seemed to be a reason to. 

We were fighting for our Lord, our King. His throne was being threatened by one of our own and it did not take long for those loyal to Adonai to form ranks and rise up against Lucifer and his army of rebel angels.

Leviathan had lied to me. He had held me the night before the first attack and told me that he was with Adonai. He said Lucifer had lost his mind and could no longer be trusted. But it was Leviathan who could no longer be trusted. He had been playing double spy.

Lucifer, Gabriel, Leviathan, and Michael had been as brothers—but those bonds were broken by deceit and wrong intentions. When sides were chosen, Gabriel and Michael had stayed with Adonai, while Leviathan had stayed lukewarm. He had tried to ride the battle out while straddling the lines of war. 

The swords, ones just like the one in Michael's outstretched hands, were used to sever wings and cast Lucifer's angels from heaven. Most of his army, tallying nearly a third of our population, was cast out during the war itself. But, after the war was ceased, the high-ranking angels in Lucifer's command, those that went on to roam the earth as demonic princes and dukes, were crowded into the throne room. It was here that they were sentenced to their fall. Although I was not allowed in to see, I know that Leviathan was among those sentenced that day.

"It can't hurt you, Cassiel." Michael's voice was soft and calming. He believed that I was afraid of this sword because of what it might do to me, but he was mistaken. I was terrified of what this sword would do to Leviathan. I could feel the slick wet stick of blood on my fingers, smell the tang of it in the air, see it running down Leviathan's body, dripping into the grass. 

I was afraid of what I might do to him with it.

It took everything in me to keep my voice steady as I said, "Michael, I can't take it. I can't—"

"Do you know what this is used for, Merritt?"

At the sound of my human name, I squared my shoulders and repeated, "I don't want it."

"Its purpose is to expel demons, or any angel really, from a solid form. It will disembody whomever it is used on—this does not mean kill. They will only be sent to the pit to await the final battle and the final judgment."

Tears swam before my eyes. "I don't want that for him."

"Yes, I know. You want him spared from the final judgment."

I drew in a sharp breath and let my eyes fall shut. The very thought of Leviathan trapped in Hell was enough to make bile rise in my throat. "I just can't—"

"Listen closely to me. Just a scratch from the sword will expel a wayward spirit from a human body. If this sword is combined with another holy element, it will enhance its capabilities."

"Meaning?"

"If this sword is doused in holy water before it is used on a demon, that demon will be entirely cast out. Erased from existence. That is what you want, correct?" I felt Michael's hand on mine and I opened my eyes to look at him. "You want to end the suffering that Leviathan is causing both of you, and the problems he is causing for humanity, but you love him too much to want him to suffer Hell. This is a way to avoid that. You asked for it and Adonai has given His permission and provided a way."

"I already told you, I am not sure if I should go through with it—"

His fingers gave mine a squeeze and he said, "That is a discussion meant for Adonai and yourself. As of this moment, Gabriel has asked that I give you this weapon and instruct you on how to use it correctly. We must both do our part." He raised an eyebrow at me. "Yes?"

I sighed and held out my hands reluctantly. Michael did not hesitate to place the blade in my grasp. It was lighter than I had anticipated and, having it so close to me, I could now see that there were hundreds of minute diamonds inlaid in the hilt. It glittered like the night sky. 

It was not large, but it would not be easy to hide on my person without drawing attention. "What do I do with it now?"

"Nothing as of yet. Just feel it in your hands, get used to it. I have a sheath for it and I'll show you in the morning how you should wear it." He tapped the tip of the blade with his finger, "It cannot hurt me or any of our kind. This sword has been repurposed for demons only. You will also not need to know too many mechanics on how to use it, for it only requires that you draw blood. A small scratch will do just as much damage as would a stab to the heart."

"How do I use it?"

He reached out and adjusted my hands on the handle, you can use both hands if you like, but if you're standing it might help you to keep your balance if you hold your other arm out beside you. Try to even out the weight a little. In combat, stance is key. Don't stand flat-footed. But again, you don't need to have fantastic parrying skills; you only need to cut him. Judging from what you have told me, he seems to trust you enough that you could easily get him alone and—"

"How can I betray him?"

"Merritt, he betrayed—"

"You need not remind me of my past with him. I know that Leviathan has wronged me, but how can I do the same to him? Should I be so confident in my ability to mislead him? Was it not the same kind of deceit which led me here to begin with?"

Michael nodded. "How you go about doing this, or whether you chose to do it at all, is entirely your choice. I am only trying to instruct you so that you may have full control of whichever path you take." He reached out and took the blade from me, "We shall continue this conversation tomorrow before you leave." He stood and carefully wrapped the sword back in the cream-colored cloth it had been in earlier. "Right now we both need sleep. The next few days promise to be trying. You will need a rested body and a hopeful heart. In the endeavor to achieve both, I once again advise you to speak to Adonai. He did not stop caring for you when you became human."

"And you shall go to obtain my answer?" I whispered. 

"Only if you ask Him." He tucked the sword away in its drawer before he came back to where I still sat by the cold fireplace. "Now, sister," he said, placing a soft kiss on my brow, "Off to bed with you."

I had slept fitfully, but I had slept. If I dreamt of the sword or Leviathan, I do not remember it. As soon as I woke we went to work preparing to leave. Michael taught me a few small drills to strengthen my hold on the sword. All the while he reminded me that it did not matter, this weapon was its own self-defense.

"As long as you can get a hit in, you should be fine. Demons will not expect you to recognize them or fight back, especially Leviathan. Be careful around Lucius, as he is far wearier of you, but even he would be hard-pressed to expect you to wield this form of blade. It won't obliterate him the same way it will Leviathan or another demon—his demise is to be at the hand by Adonai Himself—but it can still expel him from his human host. Do not hesitate to use it on him if you must."

Michael also showed me how to loop the straps of the sheath so that it was secured around my waist and easily hidden under my dress. He made me practice taking it out and putting it back in, over and over again. Hanny sat watching the instruction cross-legged in the middle of the bed. She would comment on my technique while munching on cold toast that Michael had swiped from the kitchen while his landlady was still asleep. 

We have tickets for the ten o'clock train into London. Michael is accompanying us and Gabriel is set to pick us up at the station. It is our hope that I have been out of town long enough to let Lucius's malevolence towards me die down a bit—I don't think any of us really believe this is possible, but nevertheless, the hope is there. I have the weapon and I know of my past life, now I only need to see Leviathan.