Part of the reason Gabe had reacted so badly the first time was being dumped in the middle of the Temple's territory without any warning. Now he had warning and wards, and although the graveyard felt like an open wound, the pain was something the Archangel could stand. It made his jaw tighten and his eyes smoulder with restrained distaste and righteousness, but it was bearable.

Without a word, his chin lifted high and back straight, the Archangel stepped forward beneath the graveyard's arch. The whisper of all those damned souls flowed around him; he let his being absorb them, but didn't capture them either. In silent witness he passed through them, his steps sure and light and leaving no trace of his presence at all as he made his way to the Temple door, expecting the others to follow.

Almost no presence. With his entrance, a small ripple ran through the souls, a whisper that no Necromancer would be able to hear.

But Solomon would.

They were coming.