“Like to procreate.” Sethios meant it as a joke, but Gabriel took him seriously.

“Yes. Adriel awoke to create me.”

“And he’s on the council.”

“Yes.”

“Which makes you next in line.” It was a guess considering everything Sethios had learned.

“Yes.”

“What about Caro? Where does she fall?”

“My mother has several older generations above her, which is typical for one her age. I am a unique case, as most of the eldest Seraphim have no cause for breeding.”

“So why were you needed?” Sethios asked, curious. “What purpose do you serve?”

“My fate has not yet come to fruition.”

“Meaning you have no idea why your mother was forced to birth you. Fascinating.” Sethios couldn’t help the sarcasm in his voice. Their whole world was too contrived. None of them lived. No wonder the older Seraphim chose to nap for eternity. Sethios would, too, in their shoes.

“Our customs have served us well for several thousand years. We have no war, no famine, no pain. Can you say the same about your precious humans?”

Sethios snorted. “I wouldn’t call them precious, and obviously I can’t say the same, but I’ve lived a far more intriguing existence as a result. Stick around for a while and maybe you’ll understand.”

“I have no desire to remain here any longer than needed.” Gabriel flicked his gaze toward the hallway and then back to Sethios. “That said, I’m interested in learning what your seer predicted. She won’t be nearly as powerful as the Fates but may be more inclined to give us the whole version. When can we speak to her?”

“As soon as we figure out how to get around Osiris.” Sethios grinned and stood. He needed a strong drink. Preferably a brandy. He found a bottle native to France and poured two healthy glasses. If the Seraphim didn’t want any, he’d enjoy both.

Gabriel hadn’t moved, nor had his expression changed, but he did accept the drink while saying, “Alcohol has no practical use.”

“It tastes good. That’s the only reason I require.” Sethios settled back into his chair and sipped the amber liquid. It burned his throat in the most pleasurable of ways.

“Chocolate,” Gabriel said after a long moment. “Caro may enjoy it.”

“What purpose does it serve?”

“It tastes good,” Gabriel parroted. “She may appreciate a little indulgence in her current state—something that would not be advised back home.”

Was this an olive branch of sorts? “Noted.”

Gabriel sipped his drink, almost as if to confirm their unspoken agreement to tolerate each other for the time being. After a few minutes, he set it to the side and folded one leg over the other. “Your comment earlier implies Osiris is guarding your seer. Tell me about his compound.”

Sethios nearly laughed, then reconsidered his present company. If anyone could dance around the defense mechanisms, it was a Seraphim. He detailed the location and the variety of wards in place before diving into his suggestion. “You’ll need Ezekiel because he’ll know where Skye is being kept. My father likes to move her around.”