Page 46 of Metatron
“Hell won’t be a problem.”
Another statement to chill. “You made a deal with them.” He blurted out the accusation before the thought even had a chance to form.
“What I do is none of your business. You should be worrying about the little time you have left to wallow in your mutiny.”
“Who says I’m going to mope? I’m thinking you and I are due for a reckoning.”
“As if you stand a chance,” Elyon mocked.
Maybe he didn’t, but Metatron wearied of living in fear of his God’s spite. “Could be I’ll surprise you.”
“Says the angel who knows nothing. You should have stuck to obeying my orders. Then again, I share some of the blame. I should have rid myself of you a long time ago.”
“Funny, I was about to say the same thing.”
“Enjoy what time you have left. Oh, that’s right, you can’t. Someone stole your whore.” Elyon uttered a nasty chuckle. “Perhaps if you grovel nicely, you can get her back. Used, of course.”
The taunt soured his stomach, but he didn’t let it show as he replied, “You will get your comeuppance.”
“I’ve heard that before, and yet here I am. And you know what, long after you’re dust in the stars, I’ll still be here for I am God!”
The word vibrated the air around him, and he could only imagine how bad it would have felt experienced through his HALO.
The connection severed, and he slumped.
“Atlantis is gone,” Zilla announced with a definite hint of sadness.
“Good. At least some of humanity will survive if the attempt to repel Hell—and now possibly Heaven—fails.”
“What does the principality want to do next?”
A question he had no reply to, other than save Francesca. But how? If she’d been taken to Hell, how could a single angel hope to infiltrate without being caught? The moment he was seen, he’d be dead or taken into custody. Unless…
“Zilla, how are you at creating disguises?”
“Superficial or molecular?”
He blinked. “What do you mean by molecular?”
“When an object or person beams, I gather their essence from one location and rebuild it in another using the exact pattern from before. In that moment, so long as its mass remains the same, I can also change it.”
“Wait, have you done this before?”
“No. But Atlantis has and showed me how it’s done.”
An idea began to percolate. The problem with infiltrating Hell? An angel would stand out, but what if… Before he could finish the thought, he spoke, “Could you make me appear like a demon?”
“I can, Principality. And might I add, the direction of your plan pleases me.”
“Call me Metatron. After all, you’re just as much a part of this choir as the angels.”
And he wasn’t about to disrespect the being that would help him save the woman he loved.
Chapter 14
I never got to explore the ship, ask questions, or even scream for help after he beamed me aboard the demonic scout ship. Astaroth murmured, “Sleep,” and I conked right out.
When I came to—lashes fluttering slowly before flying open—I realized I lay upright in a capsule with a glass lid. I almost panicked. I dared anyone not to, given the tight confines of the coffin-like thing holding me. A slam of my fist on the translucent covering sent it sliding open with barely a sound.