Even though he didn't regret doing what he did, Gabriel had to admit to himself that he was very, very glad to be able to leave the loud wash of souls at the game for some peace and quiet in the safehouse. His head wasn't beating the rhythm of a migraine, quite, but it was almost there. The darkness of the room was a relief.
The Archangel had mumbled a thank-you to Fletcher before crawling onto the bed and curling up again, knees drawn to his chest.
I had to, he told himself. I had to find Scarab before the Engine blew.
Then he checked himself. No, he didn't. But if he hadn't, the results might have been unconscionable. That thought made the pain somewhat more bearable, but it still didn't stop him from wishing that Skulduggery was there. Even when he scolded himself afterward, because Skul was right where he should be: stopping Scarab.
Instead the Archangel retreated back into a memory, just as the detective had shown him. Part of him was worried about detaching himself so completely, no matter how much more comfortable it was. No, not when he was alone. What if someone needed him?
So it was that Valkyrie panicked prayer hit like a bolt of lightning, making Gabriel's eyes snap open. He could tell, from the words and the tenor and sheer terror, that there was no time to spare, and so the Archangel didn't even think before acting. He just swung his legs off the bed and turned, already reaching for the sound of the girl's voice. The moment he felt the glow of Valkyrie's presence he beat his wings to go to her with all due speed.
He appeared in a house, a nice house in a nice suburb with two terrified souls off the hall and another one just before him, blocked by a fourth--a fourth gleeful, racing with images Gabe recognised well. It was lucky he was too far into action for them to do more than break upon the rock of his focus; otherwise Gabe might have flinched. Instead he whirled and ripped Sanguine off Valkryie, misjudging his strength in his haste so the Texan hit the far wall behind them. Then, with two quick steps, Gabriel was beside the teen.
"Val! Are you--"
The pain hit. It was like a sudden rising tide, inevitable and swamping, and Gabe gasped. His knees buckled and he hit the floor, half catching himself on the ruined coffetable. "O- ow," he managed to say through the white burn of the dizzy pound in his head, holding his wings very carefully still. "Think I should've--been a bit slower--on that turn--"
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The Archangel had mumbled a thank-you to Fletcher before crawling onto the bed and curling up again, knees drawn to his chest.
I had to, he told himself. I had to find Scarab before the Engine blew.
Then he checked himself. No, he didn't. But if he hadn't, the results might have been unconscionable. That thought made the pain somewhat more bearable, but it still didn't stop him from wishing that Skulduggery was there. Even when he scolded himself afterward, because Skul was right where he should be: stopping Scarab.
Instead the Archangel retreated back into a memory, just as the detective had shown him. Part of him was worried about detaching himself so completely, no matter how much more comfortable it was. No, not when he was alone. What if someone needed him?
So it was that Valkyrie panicked prayer hit like a bolt of lightning, making Gabriel's eyes snap open. He could tell, from the words and the tenor and sheer terror, that there was no time to spare, and so the Archangel didn't even think before acting. He just swung his legs off the bed and turned, already reaching for the sound of the girl's voice. The moment he felt the glow of Valkyrie's presence he beat his wings to go to her with all due speed.
He appeared in a house, a nice house in a nice suburb with two terrified souls off the hall and another one just before him, blocked by a fourth--a fourth gleeful, racing with images Gabe recognised well. It was lucky he was too far into action for them to do more than break upon the rock of his focus; otherwise Gabe might have flinched. Instead he whirled and ripped Sanguine off Valkryie, misjudging his strength in his haste so the Texan hit the far wall behind them. Then, with two quick steps, Gabriel was beside the teen.
"Val! Are you--"
The pain hit. It was like a sudden rising tide, inevitable and swamping, and Gabe gasped. His knees buckled and he hit the floor, half catching himself on the ruined coffetable. "O- ow," he managed to say through the white burn of the dizzy pound in his head, holding his wings very carefully still. "Think I should've--been a bit slower--on that turn--"