Would they be disappointed? Not many Secondaries would want a Prime such as him. There was little pride to be taken in a Primary who was really a disgraced Archangel. Many of the other Secondary teams he’d worked with had not appreciated his… history.
But this would be different. These Secondaries were different. And Gideon would prove himself to be a worthy Prime for them.
Matthew, one of the sitting councilmen, waited for Gideon at the end of the hall, and the Cherub left them with a slight bow of respect. For Matthew, not for Gideon.
“Matthew, blessed day,” Gideon inclined his head.
“Blessed day,” Matthew said. “Your Secondaries await you. They’re… eager.”
Gideon’s heart skipped. “I’ve anticipated this day for many years. Thank you for this opportunity.”
“You’ve proven yourself a worthy Guardian, but you’ve yet to find your place as a Prime. We hope this match will keep.”
“As do I,” Gideon said.
“They’re strong but untamed. You’ll have your hands full.” Matthew smiled, and Gideon did his best not to chuckle.
“Yes, I’ve followed their training. They’re headstrong, but so am I. Iron sharpens iron, does it not?”
Matthew laughed then. “That is a rather optimistic view, but I hope it serves you well.”
“We shall see.”
After a moment of scrutinizing Gideon, Matthew dipped his chin. “I shall remain here as support, should trouble arise.”
“Do you foresee trouble arising?” Gideon asked in offense.
“Of course not. It’s procedure, as you well know.”
“Of course, Councilman Matthew. Forgive me.”
“No need for apologies or formalities. Go in peace.” Matthew gestured to the door, and Gideon nodded, swallowing the moths fluttering in his throat and stomach.
Grasping the handle, Gideon took a fortifying breath, then pushed it open. He entered the room, and there they were. They stood exactly as Gideon had expected: Jairus in front, as if shielding his Other from a potential threat; Noel craning around Jairus’s shoulder, eyes alight with curiosity.
They wore their training uniforms, loose trousers and thin tunics made of breathable fabric. Jairus’s dark hair was fastened at the base of his neck with twine. Noel’s snow-white hair twisted in a braid hanging over his shoulder. Pale eyes glittered as Noel smiled. Jairus’s dark eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Blessed day,” Gideon said as he shut the door behind him.
“Blessed day.” Noel returned the greeting.
Jairus frowned. “It’s too early to know if the day is blessed.”
“Jairus,” Noel rebuked softly.
The edges of Gideon’s mouth twitched with the desire to smile, but he held it back. He couldn’t appear too soft, or they might take advantage.
“Jairus. Noel. I am pleased to finally meet you in person. I’m—”
“I know who you are, Archangel,” Jairus said, and Gideon’s hands fisted.
He slipped them behind his back to hide his whitened knuckles. Not again. Maker, was there no one in Utopia willing to look past his faults?
“What Jairus means,” Noel said as he stepped around his Other, “is that we recognize your face. You’ve watched us train. Gideon, isn’t it?”
Unable to find his voice, Gideon nodded. Noel exchanged a look with Jairus, and Jairus’s mouth thinned into a line. Noel pursed his lips and rolled his eyes.
When he turned his attention back to Gideon, he smiled tentatively. “We’re honored.”
Gideon’s smile was tight, his voice strained. “As am I.”
An uncomfortable silence descended as they stood and stared at each other. He knew he should say something to ease them, but words had never been his forte.
“I know you do not know me, and what you do know can be difficult to accept,” Gideon said, infusing his voice with confidence. “But I give you my word that I will do all I can to protect you, to lead you, to aid you in whatever way you need. I may not be the Prime you expected, but—”
“Is it true that you smuggled prisoners from Lucifer’s dungeons back to Utopia?” Noel asked.
Gideon blinked. “Uh, yes? I mean, yes, I did that, but I had help. There was—”
Noel took a step toward him. “And you fed information to the faithful, ultimately leading to Lucifer’s defeat?”
“Well, I wasn’t the only one, but I—”
“Did you really defend the west gate single-handedly during the Battle of Utopia?” Jairus asked doubtfully.
Gideon almost chose modesty, but truth be told, he was rather proud of that moment. “Yes. For a time, until reinforcements arrived.”
“Wow,” Noel breathed.
“That’s… impressive,” Jairus admitted reluctantly.
Gideon tugged on his ear and shrugged. “I did what needed to be done.”
With another step in his direction, Noel extended his hand. “I look forward to knowing you, Gideon, and learning all I can from you.”
At that, Gideon blushed but took Noel’s outstretched hand. His palm was soft, fingers slender, but his grip was firm. He smiled, and Gideon noticed the light purple starbursts ringing his pupils.
“I look forward to knowing you as well,” Gideon managed to say after a moment. “Thank you.”
Jairus huffed and stomped forward. He held out his hand in an almost grudging manner, but his chin was high, shoulders straight as he said, “It will be an honor to serve with you.”
“The honor is mine, to be sure.” Gideon took the offered hand, and they shook.
In that moment, Gideon prayed this would be the beginning of something new, something good. He had made mistakes, and he’d paid for them dearly. He could never atone for his sins, but he would bring honor to these Secondaries if it was the last thing he did. And maybe, someday, he might be so fortunate as to call them brothers.
“I guess I’m no good at keeping promises. I’m sorry.”
Gideon stared at the hastily scrawled note for the thousandth time since waking to Jai’s panicked shouts. It took all his self-restraint not to crush the offending paper in his fist. The satisfaction would only last a moment before regret would creep in. This was, after all, the only piece he had left of Riley.
Voices rose, echoing off the marble walls of the conference room, and a stress headache bloomed at the base of his brain stem. Gabriel was nagging again, at Michael this time, and Gideon inhaled deeply, then released the air slowly through pursed lips.
Tucking the note into his pocket, he scanned the room for his Secondaries. Near the back wall, Jai paced. Eyes downcast, lips moving soundlessly, he carved a well-trodden path across the width of the room. His hand rubbed circles over his heart every few seconds before his fingers delved into his short hair and tugged.
Out of everyone, Gideon hadn’t expected Jai to break first. Not that Noel was weak, but he had always been more emotional. Yet it was Jai who was slowly sinking under the weight of their panic. He was sure it had to do with Jai’s connection to Riley, a connection neither he nor Noel shared. Even now, he could see the muscles of Jai’s back twitching beneath his T-shirt. His tattoo must have been paining him.