The Ichorian neither acknowledged nor thanked him, but his stance eased ever so slightly. He couldn’t afford to hope. How depressing.

“When you enter the maze, take your first two lefts. I’ll meet you there, then trace you to Skye. We have a spot.” The Ichorian disappeared on the final word.

“I guess that means we go now,” Gabriel said to the now-empty alley. “And you’d better not be luring me into a trap.”

The air crackled with laughter around him.

Gabriel didn’t bother to respond to it but misted to the outskirts of Osiris’s property. Fresh air and trees surrounded him a second later, forcing him to inhale deeply.

He could see the appeal to living out here. Plenty of land to roam free, perhaps even fly. Most Seraphim didn’t indulge in the activity unless using it for strength training. Enjoyment was an emotion most of his kin frowned upon, but sometimes Gabriel soared through the clouds when he wanted to be alone to think. His wings stretched with the memory of his flight just last night, and his lips threatened to curl.

Already he longed to go again.

And not for practical reasons.

“Being around humans is dangerous,” he muttered as he forced himself to focus on the rune two feet before him. Only a Seraphim would spot the cleverly disguised symbol etched into a tree.

Gabriel added his own markings to temporarily deactivate the silent alarm and stepped through the barrier. Osiris might feel a slight inkling of change if he lurked nearby, but not enough to encourage investigation. More of a nuisance, like wind softly rustling the trees outside his window.

He scouted the area for the second ward and altered it in kind before fixing three more and finally stepping into the interior of the grounds.

Silence greeted his entry, confirming his success at bypassing the security measures in place. They were more a deterrent to keep out an army rather than a single individual. Osiris wouldn’t fear one-off assassins, but he would want to be warned if a group of assailants had arrived. Smart magic.

Gabriel considered his surroundings before misting to the interior of the maze. He listened for any potential threats before cautiously following Ezekiel’s directions. The Ichorian stood waiting for him with an impassive expression.

“Congratulations. You wasted fifteen minutes, Stark.”

“Dismantling wards requires patience,” he replied, unperturbed. “And this conversation will not take long.”

“I’ll remember that when you complain later.” Ezekiel turned, his gesture obvious that he wished to be followed.

Several passages and curves later placed them near a beautiful rose garden and a gazebo filled with lilacs and other exotic flowers. A woman with raven-black hair sat waiting for them on the bench, her azure gaze expectant. She was a slight woman with pale features, but undeniably beautiful. Seraphic, even.

What is her ancestry? he wondered. Most of Osiris’s abominations maintained a certain air to them that she lacked. Interesting.

Ezekiel bowed before her, his every move filled with reverence while she watched him blankly. Gabriel expected a little more passion, perhaps even a hug, but she observed Ezekiel as one would an insect.