"I didn't say we can ignore it," Gabe countered, "but we can't rely on it. We don't even know these angels are from my world, Skul. They could be ones from this universe, returning." Which, frankly, was somehow more concerning. Given what Castiel's world had been like, from what Castiel had said, some angels ... some angels were badly misguided. The same way Lucifer was misguided, but on a broader scale.

Except that it couldn't be it either, and Gabe knew it even as he spoke. It couldn't be it because the Faceless Ones had been his. If there had been angels here, surely they would have reacted to the Fallen angels.

So he couldn't deny that Skulduggery's concern was legitimate. He bit his lip, one hand sliding down the handrail as they made their way downstairs. "If it's been that long then Rafe and Michael would be getting worried. And one of them would want to come find me. But as I said, I doubt they'd be able to--that sort of protection ... like I said, it's what I am and it almost swept me away. Michael is a warrior. Rafe is a healer."

And also the patron saint of travellers. If either of them had any chance, it would be the latter. Yet still ...

The Archangel glanced at Skulduggery. He hadn't missed the surge of guilt, and even though he debated it, he couldn't let that stand. "This was my choice, Skul."