Fic: Rogue (Gabriel/M, Gabriel/F, PG-13) 23/36
For full notes and other chapters, please see the Masterpost.
Warning: There is a birth scene in this chapter. It’s not horribly graphic, but it exists. Also, there is something you should never ever do to a baby in this chapter. Finally, you may want to look up the baby's name in a Supernatural wiki...
Notes: This is the third part of the Missing an Angel series. It is recommended that you read the first two before reading this one.
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Chapter word count: 2,726
Chapter Summary: There comes a time in every expectant mother’s life when the baby needs to come out.
CHAPTER 23:
Birth
As dawn was breaking, Gabriel slipped out of Kali’s bed. She loosely wrapped her sari around her, going without the choli or petticoat usually worn beneath the draped fabric, and stepped out onto Kali’s balcony. The rising sun traced her face with its warm rays, and she smiled, resting her elbows on the railing and leaning into its caress.
Last night had been interesting. Almost unbearable. She had never bothered to think about the consequences of running away from Heaven before. Oh, sure, there had been that seven-year panic attack as soon as she sensed Raphael returning to Heaven and no longer had a purpose for her life, but that had been more about a lack of orders than a lack of a home. In over a thousand years of self-imposed exile, Gabriel had always assumed she would be allowed to return when her brothers stopped fighting. Last night had been the first time it had ever occurred to her that in running away, she genuinely had turned her back on everything.
“It’s too late now,” Gabriel murmured, smoothing one hand down and over her stomach. Even if Michael forgave her escape-it had benefited Heaven in the end… probably-he would never forgive her this child. She could explain it had been the only way to save Cariel, and he would look upon her with pity and love, but not forgiveness. The Nephilim were abominations, even this unborn one. Michael could not bend that law for her.
“The day has only just begun.” Kali’s murmur was low and quiet in Gabriel’s ear, her arms slipping around the angel. Two encircled her hips, supporting her belly, while a third rested over Gabriel’s and a fourth lay across the railing beside Gabriel’s elbow. “Calmer now?”
“Am I allowed to blame hormones?” Gabriel pushed away from the railing to fall back against Kali’s warm body, closing her eyes and letting the goddess hold her.
Last night… last night had been exactly what Gabriel had needed. The goddess was no angel, but she was one of the great old ones. Her soul had danced with Gabriel’s spirit, crowding out a loneliness Gabriel hadn’t even realized had crept over her. Angels were not meant to be alone, but Gabriel had been isolating herself ever since she had kil… ever since Fergus died. Kali had taken her into her arms, into her bed, and Gabriel had felt whole again, for the moment.
“Perhaps.” Kali rubbed her hands over Gabriel’s stomach, and the Nephilim kicked under her touch. Kali smiled. “You have quite a fighter in there, Loki. Not much longer now.”
“I can’t wait.” There was a decided lack of eagerness in Gabriel’s voice. She wanted the Nephilim out of her body, wanted to be able to reclaim Loki’s usual form, but at the same time, she was scared of what that would mean. While the creature was inside her, she could control it. Once the Nephilim broke free, it was free. Free to develop into a monster, to make a mockery of what little of Cariel Gabriel had managed to save.
Kali made a frustrated noise against Gabriel’s bare shoulder. “You’re brooding again. I can’t stand brooding.”
“I’m not brooding!”
“You’re starting to.” Kali drew away from Gabriel but kept hold of her hand, turning her as she backed away. “Come back to bed. Clearly, I didn’t do a good enough job the first time…”
With Kali’s support, Gabriel barely had time to think about what would happen after the Nephilim was born over the next few weeks. As impressive as they were, though, Kali’s distractions couldn’t stop the inevitable. Gabriel was sitting by the ornamental pond, watching the fish dart through the clear water, when she felt the first twinge low in her back. Frowning, the angel massaged her stomach. “Are you moving again?” she asked. The Nephilim had been twisting and stretching within her over the past two weeks, sinking lower in her body. It seemed to take great pleasure in attempting to kick through her spine. Thankfully, the baby was nowhere near strong enough to break an angel’s back.
That was when the tightening started. Gabriel gave a little groan, cradling her stomach in both hands as it felt like an invisible fist had formed around her, slowly squeezing harder and harder and not letting up and she couldn’t breathe she couldn’t breathe and then it was gone. Gabriel sucked in a hasty breath, belatedly remembering that she didn’t actually need to breathe.
“Loki?” Kali was returning with some fruit on a plate, frowning a little as she approached. “Is something wrong?”
“Yes.” Gabriel lifted her eyes to Kali, praying the goddess would know what was happening. “I just felt… everything felt tight all of a sudden.”
Kali set the plate down, crouching beside Gabriel, and touched her hands over the angel’s stomach. “Has the baby-”
Whatever Kali was going to say was lost as another bout of tightness came over Gabriel, harder this time, longer. “Kali!” Gabriel gasped when it was over, squeezing her eyes shut.
“I think it’s time.” Kali stood up quickly. “Try to get inside. I’ll call for Sinivali.”
“Who?” Gabriel asked, but she was too slow. Kali was already gone. At her feet, Thorn whined in concern, his tail thumping the ground. The angel groaned and pushed with her wings to get herself to her feet again. Everything felt off. She felt wrong, all over.
Gabriel managed to make it to her room, though she had to stop three times for more of the tight spells (Contractions, Gabriel realized. These must be contractions.). By the time Kali reappeared with a short, pleasant-looking goddess, Gabriel was more than ready to be done with this whole birth thing.
“Hello, Loki,” the second goddess said, brushing sweaty curls out of Gabriel’s face as she rubbed her other hand over Gabriel’s stomach. “I’m Sinivali. I’ll make sure this child comes out quickly, don’t you fret.”
“Sinivali is the goddess of easy birth in our pantheon,” Kali informed Gabriel, moving around to her head.
“Nice that you have one of those,” Gabriel gasped out. “We just have all childbirth.”
“It’s an honor to be helping a goddess of another pantheon,” Sinivali said. “Let’s just see how far along you are already, shall we?”
Sinivali barely had time to get between Gabriel’s legs before another contraction was making her cry out in pain, her body arching off the bed as best it could. Kali reached down and took Gabriel’s hands in her own, while Sinivali just smiled reassuringly up at her. “Looks like this baby is ready to come out, with or without me!”
“Feels that way,” Gabriel managed to say before she was shouting through another contraction. Kali’s expression didn’t even flinch as Gabriel crushed the bones of her hands in her grip. She’d have to apologize for that later. Once the child was born.
Sinivali’s calm voice cut through Gabriel’s pain, giving her clear commands. Orders. Gabriel could do orders. She could push, she could breathe, and she could scream.
That last one wasn’t an order, but Gabriel couldn’t really control it. She could feel the Nephilim moving within her, trying to come out, and the pain was almost the worst thing she had ever felt. It ranked right up there with having Lucifer’s icy grace freezing her solid, then snapping her fingers off, or with having the entire Host and Father torn from her spirit and then shoved back in, or almost as bad as when she killed… when Fergus died. In any case, screaming helped, and her voice climbed higher and higher until it broke through Loki’s throat and her true voice rang out, angelic harmonics shattering every piece of glass within two miles. Gabriel managed to slam a hand over her own mouth, staring guiltily up at Kali. Mercifully, Kali only raised an eyebrow and said nothing.
“One more push, Loki, you can do it!” Sinivali encouraged. Gabriel bit her hand to keep from screaming again and bore down as hard as she could.
Almost immediately, the pressure and pain was gone, and Gabriel could breathe again. She sobbed with relief, falling back against the bed, her eyes shut tightly. The Nephilim was out. She could feel it in Sinilavi’s arms, a separate entity now, but she didn’t care. It was out. Her body was her own again. The monster, the taint, was gone.
Kali worked her hands free from Gabriel’s grip and moved around to take the baby from Sinilavi. Gabriel distractedly tracked their movements with her grace but didn’t look too hard. She floated on a sea of relief, her entire body relaxing.
“Do you want to hold her?”
Gabriel wasn’t sure how long she’d zoned out before Kali’s words pulled her back to the present. Slowly, she opened her eyes to look up at the goddess. In her arms was a little blanket-wrapped bundle. The Nephilim. Gabriel frowned.
“She’s not a monster. She looks completely normal.” Kali sat beside the bed, using four free arms to push pillows behind Gabriel’s back, propping her up. Without waiting for Gabriel’s consent, Kali transferred the baby against Gabriel’s chest. The angel instinctively reached up, folding her arms protectively around the small bundle before it could fall.
“Congratulations,” the goddess said, sitting back far enough so Gabriel couldn’t pass the newborn back to her. “You have a daughter.”
The baby snuffled and whined a little, but she didn’t cry out. She nosed against Gabriel’s neck, all red and damp and curled up. Her eyes were squinched tightly shut, but she had a head full of dark hair. Tiny little fingers spasmed against Gabriel’s skin, not coordinated enough to grab or hold, not yet. She was, to all outward appearances, a completely normal human baby. She even felt completely normal in Gabriel’s arms, her soul radiating the purity of a newborn human’s innocence. This child did not feel evil to Gabriel. She couldn’t sense any homicidal tendencies in the infant’s aura.
Gabriel never felt it in adult Nephilims either. That was one reason they made such efficient angel-killing soldiers. They could hide. This little one was still defenseless. Gabriel could kill her now, easily. She should kill her now, as penance for bringing her into this world.
The angel smoothed one hand up the baby’s back, resting it over her fragile neck. One squeeze, one snap, and even the two goddesses in the room wouldn’t be able to react quick enough to save the Nephilim, the last Nephilim.
“Are you going to follow the Hindu rites for a new baby?” Kali’s voice startled Gabriel out of her dark thoughts, drawing the angel’s attention away from the infant for the moment.
“Would you be horribly offended if I said no?” Gabriel’s voice was light, a bit worn out from the exertion she had just gone through, but not at all the tones of a mother contemplating infanticide. Loki’s throat felt raw, scoured from the inside out by Gabriel’s true voice, but already the angel was piecing her body back together.
“Not at all,” Kali answered. “You are not Hindu. I couldn’t ask you to renounce your own beliefs for mine.”
“Thank you.”
“But in that case… will you tell me what you were thinking of naming her?” Kali smiled. “Patience has never been one of my virtues.”
“I… haven’t.” Gabriel looked back down at the newborn cuddled against her skin.
“Haven’t?”
“Haven’t thought of any names.” Angels were always named by their Father. Humans came with names given to them by other members of their families. Even Thorn had been named by Fergus. Gabriel had never had the occasion to pick a name for another life. She hadn’t spent a moment giving thought to what she would name this Nephilim.
“I could suggest some.” Kali watched the infant thoughtfully, tapping sharp nails against the floor. “Ashmita? Toral? Sadhika?”
“What about Pallavi?” Sinilavi suggested. “A pretty name for a pretty girl?”
Gabriel had to name this child, or at least pretend to. She shook her head at the goddess’ suggestions. “With all due respect, I think I should choose something more European.”
“Of course,” Sinilavi said, understandingly. “Norse?”
“No, nothing antiquated.” Gabriel made herself stroke the baby’s hair, and then she did it again just because. The fine strands of hair were soft and silky beneath her fingertips. “I don’t know how long she will live, but if she has anything resembling an immortal life, she will need to move frequently. I’d want to give her a name she could keep.”
“Something common,” Kali agreed. “Simple.”
“Something like John, had she been a boy,” Gabriel mused, trying to think of common female names. “Or Mary…” No, not Mary. Gabriel had liked Mary. She wouldn’t name this abomination after Jesus’ mother.
“What about Jane?” Sinilavi asked. “That’s similar to John, isn’t it?”
“Jane,” Gabriel repeated slowly, trying the name out. The baby wiggled in Gabriel’s hands, lifting her head a fraction of an inch. “I suppose she likes it.”
“Jane Lokadóttir,” Kali said, testing the sound. “I approve.”
“Good.” Gabriel looked down as the baby squirmed again, distracted by the infant. “I’m glad. Could I… could I have a minute with Jane? Alone?”
“Of course.” Sinilavi immediately rose to her feet, beckoning for Kali to follow. The more powerful goddess was less pleased to leave, but she allowed Gabriel her privacy.
As soon as the door closed behind them, Gabriel pulled the child away from her chest. The Nephilim was wrapped in a loose linen blanket, and she kicked and fussed at being removed from Gabriel’s heat. “Look at me,” Gabriel ordered. The baby whined and kicked again, managing to get one foot out of the folds of her blanket. She cracked big blue eyes open, staring off in two different directions. Gabriel growled under her breath and gave the child a slight shake, commanding with her “boss voice,” as Cariel used to call it. “Look at me!”
Silver light, like the moon, shone out through the newborn’s pupils and washed out her entire eyes. The bright pinpricks of starlight at the center focused on Gabriel, and the baby stilled, studying her mother. Nephilim. If Gabriel had harbored any doubts (she hadn’t), this display would have put them all to rest.
“You are helpless right now,” Gabriel told the Nephilim. “Defenseless. You need me to survive. Do you understand that? I hold your life in my hands. Cross me at your own peril.”
The baby’s tiny brow furrowed deeply as she frowned, her head cocking to the side in a move that was entirely angelic. She was still staring at Gabriel with those silver eyes. The last time Gabriel had looked into eyes like that, she had effectively been committing genocide. The last time Gabriel had looked into eyes like that, their owner would have gladly taken her own life.
But then the Nephilim did something Gabriel hadn’t expected. She reached down with one little hand, patted Gabriel’s thumb where it laid across her chest, and she cooed. With that little sound, her young soul-like spirit flared up, stretching as far as it could to brush against Gabriel’s grace. It offered her a spark, a jolt that was simultaneously Gabriel and Cariel and someone entirely new. It wasn’t hostile. It wasn’t a threat.
It was love.
This Nephilim, this baby, Jane, was hers. She was Gabriel’s child, Gabriel’s and Cariel’s, something they had made together, something made from them, from both of them, from an Archangel and her lieutenant. There had been no room for hatred when they made Jane. They had loved each other, and Jane was born from that love, from that desperate desire to hold Cariel close and never let him go.
Gabriel pulled Jane in against her core, wrapping her in her arms and all her wings, curling around the fragile little body. “I’m sorry,” she whispered against the baby’s hair. Jane closed her glowing eyes and snuggled in close against Gabriel’s grace. “I’m sorry. I do love you. I do. You’re my daughter, and his daughter, and we’re going to figure this out together. Your father’s not around to help us, but for his sake, I’m going to love you all your life, and all of mine. I promise. I promise.”
Next...
Warning: There is a birth scene in this chapter. It’s not horribly graphic, but it exists. Also, there is something you should never ever do to a baby in this chapter. Finally, you may want to look up the baby's name in a Supernatural wiki...
Notes: This is the third part of the Missing an Angel series. It is recommended that you read the first two before reading this one.
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Chapter word count: 2,726
Chapter Summary: There comes a time in every expectant mother’s life when the baby needs to come out.
CHAPTER 23:
Birth
As dawn was breaking, Gabriel slipped out of Kali’s bed. She loosely wrapped her sari around her, going without the choli or petticoat usually worn beneath the draped fabric, and stepped out onto Kali’s balcony. The rising sun traced her face with its warm rays, and she smiled, resting her elbows on the railing and leaning into its caress.
Last night had been interesting. Almost unbearable. She had never bothered to think about the consequences of running away from Heaven before. Oh, sure, there had been that seven-year panic attack as soon as she sensed Raphael returning to Heaven and no longer had a purpose for her life, but that had been more about a lack of orders than a lack of a home. In over a thousand years of self-imposed exile, Gabriel had always assumed she would be allowed to return when her brothers stopped fighting. Last night had been the first time it had ever occurred to her that in running away, she genuinely had turned her back on everything.
“It’s too late now,” Gabriel murmured, smoothing one hand down and over her stomach. Even if Michael forgave her escape-it had benefited Heaven in the end… probably-he would never forgive her this child. She could explain it had been the only way to save Cariel, and he would look upon her with pity and love, but not forgiveness. The Nephilim were abominations, even this unborn one. Michael could not bend that law for her.
“The day has only just begun.” Kali’s murmur was low and quiet in Gabriel’s ear, her arms slipping around the angel. Two encircled her hips, supporting her belly, while a third rested over Gabriel’s and a fourth lay across the railing beside Gabriel’s elbow. “Calmer now?”
“Am I allowed to blame hormones?” Gabriel pushed away from the railing to fall back against Kali’s warm body, closing her eyes and letting the goddess hold her.
Last night… last night had been exactly what Gabriel had needed. The goddess was no angel, but she was one of the great old ones. Her soul had danced with Gabriel’s spirit, crowding out a loneliness Gabriel hadn’t even realized had crept over her. Angels were not meant to be alone, but Gabriel had been isolating herself ever since she had kil… ever since Fergus died. Kali had taken her into her arms, into her bed, and Gabriel had felt whole again, for the moment.
“Perhaps.” Kali rubbed her hands over Gabriel’s stomach, and the Nephilim kicked under her touch. Kali smiled. “You have quite a fighter in there, Loki. Not much longer now.”
“I can’t wait.” There was a decided lack of eagerness in Gabriel’s voice. She wanted the Nephilim out of her body, wanted to be able to reclaim Loki’s usual form, but at the same time, she was scared of what that would mean. While the creature was inside her, she could control it. Once the Nephilim broke free, it was free. Free to develop into a monster, to make a mockery of what little of Cariel Gabriel had managed to save.
Kali made a frustrated noise against Gabriel’s bare shoulder. “You’re brooding again. I can’t stand brooding.”
“I’m not brooding!”
“You’re starting to.” Kali drew away from Gabriel but kept hold of her hand, turning her as she backed away. “Come back to bed. Clearly, I didn’t do a good enough job the first time…”
With Kali’s support, Gabriel barely had time to think about what would happen after the Nephilim was born over the next few weeks. As impressive as they were, though, Kali’s distractions couldn’t stop the inevitable. Gabriel was sitting by the ornamental pond, watching the fish dart through the clear water, when she felt the first twinge low in her back. Frowning, the angel massaged her stomach. “Are you moving again?” she asked. The Nephilim had been twisting and stretching within her over the past two weeks, sinking lower in her body. It seemed to take great pleasure in attempting to kick through her spine. Thankfully, the baby was nowhere near strong enough to break an angel’s back.
That was when the tightening started. Gabriel gave a little groan, cradling her stomach in both hands as it felt like an invisible fist had formed around her, slowly squeezing harder and harder and not letting up and she couldn’t breathe she couldn’t breathe and then it was gone. Gabriel sucked in a hasty breath, belatedly remembering that she didn’t actually need to breathe.
“Loki?” Kali was returning with some fruit on a plate, frowning a little as she approached. “Is something wrong?”
“Yes.” Gabriel lifted her eyes to Kali, praying the goddess would know what was happening. “I just felt… everything felt tight all of a sudden.”
Kali set the plate down, crouching beside Gabriel, and touched her hands over the angel’s stomach. “Has the baby-”
Whatever Kali was going to say was lost as another bout of tightness came over Gabriel, harder this time, longer. “Kali!” Gabriel gasped when it was over, squeezing her eyes shut.
“I think it’s time.” Kali stood up quickly. “Try to get inside. I’ll call for Sinivali.”
“Who?” Gabriel asked, but she was too slow. Kali was already gone. At her feet, Thorn whined in concern, his tail thumping the ground. The angel groaned and pushed with her wings to get herself to her feet again. Everything felt off. She felt wrong, all over.
Gabriel managed to make it to her room, though she had to stop three times for more of the tight spells (Contractions, Gabriel realized. These must be contractions.). By the time Kali reappeared with a short, pleasant-looking goddess, Gabriel was more than ready to be done with this whole birth thing.
“Hello, Loki,” the second goddess said, brushing sweaty curls out of Gabriel’s face as she rubbed her other hand over Gabriel’s stomach. “I’m Sinivali. I’ll make sure this child comes out quickly, don’t you fret.”
“Sinivali is the goddess of easy birth in our pantheon,” Kali informed Gabriel, moving around to her head.
“Nice that you have one of those,” Gabriel gasped out. “We just have all childbirth.”
“It’s an honor to be helping a goddess of another pantheon,” Sinivali said. “Let’s just see how far along you are already, shall we?”
Sinivali barely had time to get between Gabriel’s legs before another contraction was making her cry out in pain, her body arching off the bed as best it could. Kali reached down and took Gabriel’s hands in her own, while Sinivali just smiled reassuringly up at her. “Looks like this baby is ready to come out, with or without me!”
“Feels that way,” Gabriel managed to say before she was shouting through another contraction. Kali’s expression didn’t even flinch as Gabriel crushed the bones of her hands in her grip. She’d have to apologize for that later. Once the child was born.
Sinivali’s calm voice cut through Gabriel’s pain, giving her clear commands. Orders. Gabriel could do orders. She could push, she could breathe, and she could scream.
That last one wasn’t an order, but Gabriel couldn’t really control it. She could feel the Nephilim moving within her, trying to come out, and the pain was almost the worst thing she had ever felt. It ranked right up there with having Lucifer’s icy grace freezing her solid, then snapping her fingers off, or with having the entire Host and Father torn from her spirit and then shoved back in, or almost as bad as when she killed… when Fergus died. In any case, screaming helped, and her voice climbed higher and higher until it broke through Loki’s throat and her true voice rang out, angelic harmonics shattering every piece of glass within two miles. Gabriel managed to slam a hand over her own mouth, staring guiltily up at Kali. Mercifully, Kali only raised an eyebrow and said nothing.
“One more push, Loki, you can do it!” Sinivali encouraged. Gabriel bit her hand to keep from screaming again and bore down as hard as she could.
Almost immediately, the pressure and pain was gone, and Gabriel could breathe again. She sobbed with relief, falling back against the bed, her eyes shut tightly. The Nephilim was out. She could feel it in Sinilavi’s arms, a separate entity now, but she didn’t care. It was out. Her body was her own again. The monster, the taint, was gone.
Kali worked her hands free from Gabriel’s grip and moved around to take the baby from Sinilavi. Gabriel distractedly tracked their movements with her grace but didn’t look too hard. She floated on a sea of relief, her entire body relaxing.
“Do you want to hold her?”
Gabriel wasn’t sure how long she’d zoned out before Kali’s words pulled her back to the present. Slowly, she opened her eyes to look up at the goddess. In her arms was a little blanket-wrapped bundle. The Nephilim. Gabriel frowned.
“She’s not a monster. She looks completely normal.” Kali sat beside the bed, using four free arms to push pillows behind Gabriel’s back, propping her up. Without waiting for Gabriel’s consent, Kali transferred the baby against Gabriel’s chest. The angel instinctively reached up, folding her arms protectively around the small bundle before it could fall.
“Congratulations,” the goddess said, sitting back far enough so Gabriel couldn’t pass the newborn back to her. “You have a daughter.”
The baby snuffled and whined a little, but she didn’t cry out. She nosed against Gabriel’s neck, all red and damp and curled up. Her eyes were squinched tightly shut, but she had a head full of dark hair. Tiny little fingers spasmed against Gabriel’s skin, not coordinated enough to grab or hold, not yet. She was, to all outward appearances, a completely normal human baby. She even felt completely normal in Gabriel’s arms, her soul radiating the purity of a newborn human’s innocence. This child did not feel evil to Gabriel. She couldn’t sense any homicidal tendencies in the infant’s aura.
Gabriel never felt it in adult Nephilims either. That was one reason they made such efficient angel-killing soldiers. They could hide. This little one was still defenseless. Gabriel could kill her now, easily. She should kill her now, as penance for bringing her into this world.
The angel smoothed one hand up the baby’s back, resting it over her fragile neck. One squeeze, one snap, and even the two goddesses in the room wouldn’t be able to react quick enough to save the Nephilim, the last Nephilim.
“Are you going to follow the Hindu rites for a new baby?” Kali’s voice startled Gabriel out of her dark thoughts, drawing the angel’s attention away from the infant for the moment.
“Would you be horribly offended if I said no?” Gabriel’s voice was light, a bit worn out from the exertion she had just gone through, but not at all the tones of a mother contemplating infanticide. Loki’s throat felt raw, scoured from the inside out by Gabriel’s true voice, but already the angel was piecing her body back together.
“Not at all,” Kali answered. “You are not Hindu. I couldn’t ask you to renounce your own beliefs for mine.”
“Thank you.”
“But in that case… will you tell me what you were thinking of naming her?” Kali smiled. “Patience has never been one of my virtues.”
“I… haven’t.” Gabriel looked back down at the newborn cuddled against her skin.
“Haven’t?”
“Haven’t thought of any names.” Angels were always named by their Father. Humans came with names given to them by other members of their families. Even Thorn had been named by Fergus. Gabriel had never had the occasion to pick a name for another life. She hadn’t spent a moment giving thought to what she would name this Nephilim.
“I could suggest some.” Kali watched the infant thoughtfully, tapping sharp nails against the floor. “Ashmita? Toral? Sadhika?”
“What about Pallavi?” Sinilavi suggested. “A pretty name for a pretty girl?”
Gabriel had to name this child, or at least pretend to. She shook her head at the goddess’ suggestions. “With all due respect, I think I should choose something more European.”
“Of course,” Sinilavi said, understandingly. “Norse?”
“No, nothing antiquated.” Gabriel made herself stroke the baby’s hair, and then she did it again just because. The fine strands of hair were soft and silky beneath her fingertips. “I don’t know how long she will live, but if she has anything resembling an immortal life, she will need to move frequently. I’d want to give her a name she could keep.”
“Something common,” Kali agreed. “Simple.”
“Something like John, had she been a boy,” Gabriel mused, trying to think of common female names. “Or Mary…” No, not Mary. Gabriel had liked Mary. She wouldn’t name this abomination after Jesus’ mother.
“What about Jane?” Sinilavi asked. “That’s similar to John, isn’t it?”
“Jane,” Gabriel repeated slowly, trying the name out. The baby wiggled in Gabriel’s hands, lifting her head a fraction of an inch. “I suppose she likes it.”
“Jane Lokadóttir,” Kali said, testing the sound. “I approve.”
“Good.” Gabriel looked down as the baby squirmed again, distracted by the infant. “I’m glad. Could I… could I have a minute with Jane? Alone?”
“Of course.” Sinilavi immediately rose to her feet, beckoning for Kali to follow. The more powerful goddess was less pleased to leave, but she allowed Gabriel her privacy.
As soon as the door closed behind them, Gabriel pulled the child away from her chest. The Nephilim was wrapped in a loose linen blanket, and she kicked and fussed at being removed from Gabriel’s heat. “Look at me,” Gabriel ordered. The baby whined and kicked again, managing to get one foot out of the folds of her blanket. She cracked big blue eyes open, staring off in two different directions. Gabriel growled under her breath and gave the child a slight shake, commanding with her “boss voice,” as Cariel used to call it. “Look at me!”
Silver light, like the moon, shone out through the newborn’s pupils and washed out her entire eyes. The bright pinpricks of starlight at the center focused on Gabriel, and the baby stilled, studying her mother. Nephilim. If Gabriel had harbored any doubts (she hadn’t), this display would have put them all to rest.
“You are helpless right now,” Gabriel told the Nephilim. “Defenseless. You need me to survive. Do you understand that? I hold your life in my hands. Cross me at your own peril.”
The baby’s tiny brow furrowed deeply as she frowned, her head cocking to the side in a move that was entirely angelic. She was still staring at Gabriel with those silver eyes. The last time Gabriel had looked into eyes like that, she had effectively been committing genocide. The last time Gabriel had looked into eyes like that, their owner would have gladly taken her own life.
But then the Nephilim did something Gabriel hadn’t expected. She reached down with one little hand, patted Gabriel’s thumb where it laid across her chest, and she cooed. With that little sound, her young soul-like spirit flared up, stretching as far as it could to brush against Gabriel’s grace. It offered her a spark, a jolt that was simultaneously Gabriel and Cariel and someone entirely new. It wasn’t hostile. It wasn’t a threat.
It was love.
This Nephilim, this baby, Jane, was hers. She was Gabriel’s child, Gabriel’s and Cariel’s, something they had made together, something made from them, from both of them, from an Archangel and her lieutenant. There had been no room for hatred when they made Jane. They had loved each other, and Jane was born from that love, from that desperate desire to hold Cariel close and never let him go.
Gabriel pulled Jane in against her core, wrapping her in her arms and all her wings, curling around the fragile little body. “I’m sorry,” she whispered against the baby’s hair. Jane closed her glowing eyes and snuggled in close against Gabriel’s grace. “I’m sorry. I do love you. I do. You’re my daughter, and his daughter, and we’re going to figure this out together. Your father’s not around to help us, but for his sake, I’m going to love you all your life, and all of mine. I promise. I promise.”
Next...