After the meeting at the café, Gabriel did not simply let Cain leave. She maneuvered, insisting, and finally cornering him with a mixture of persuasion and guilt until he relented. Cain had been hesitant, wanting to visit Amelia's grave alone, but Gabriel would not be deterred. She reminded him of the times the three of them used to drink together, back before he knew she owned the company. Did her wealth somehow invalidate her grief? Did it stop her from paying respects to a friend alongside that friend's best friend?
Her argument was effective. Soon, they found themselves standing together before the simple, polished granite headstone. The silence of the cemetery was a soft blanket over their shared history. Gabriel looked at the engraved name, her expression distant, remembering.
"If only it could have been avoided," she said quietly. "I would have done anything."
Cain let out a soft, sad laugh. "I know. If cancer was something you could fight with money or willpower, I would have done worse."
They shared a moment then, trading stories about Amelia, the laughter tinged with the ache of loss. Gabriel's guards approached, each carrying a bouquet of white lilies. They handed one to Gabriel and one to Cain. Together, they placed the flowers at the base of the stone, a silent offering to a memory. They stood for a final, quiet minute before turning to leave.
Walking back toward the rows of parked cars, Gabriel stopped suddenly. Her hand reached out, her fingers curling gently into the fabric of his suit coat sleeve. "Do you want to get a drink? There is something I need to ask you."
Cain looked at her face, at the melancholic smile that didn't quite reach her violet eyes. He nodded without hesitation. "Okay. But you're buying. Same rules as when Amelia was around. The one who suggests the drink pays."
A ghost of a real smile touched her lips. "Agreed."
They ended up at a 7-Eleven, bypassing any fancy bar for the simple, honest transaction of two cold cans of beer. They found a park bench nearby, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows through the trees. Cain popped the tab on his can and took a slow sip. The familiar, bitter taste grounded him.
"So," he said, leaning back against the wooden slats. "What did you want to ask me about, Gab?" Using her first name still felt strange, but he remembered her request.
Gabriel took a long, slow breath. She lifted her own can, took a deliberate swallow, and then let the breath out. "You know my older sister was killed, right?"
It was a statement, not a question. Cain nodded. She had spoken of it before, in vague, pained terms years ago. A tragedy. A person who had appeared in their lives and then, just as suddenly, ended her sister's.
"Yeah," he said softly. "Have you… found the person who did it? After all this time searching?"
Another sip. "Yes."
The single word hung in the air, heavy and final. Cain waited.
"I asked you here because I want your opinion," she continued, her gaze fixed on a distant point between the trees.
"My opinion on what?"
"On whether I should kill them. Or not."
Cain's eyebrows rose. He took another drink, buying a moment to think. "Logically," he began, choosing his words with care, "if I were in your position, yes. I think I would want to. I probably would try."
He paused, turning the can in his hands. "But from a wider perspective, killing them won't bring your sister back. It won't make the world have one less killer in it. It just makes you one. And… I think your sister wouldn't have wanted that for you. To carry that. Even for her sake." He finally looked at her. "But I don't know how you feel. I can't imagine that kind of pain. So whatever you decide, I'm here. That's what friends are for."
Gabriel was silent for a long time. Then she smiled, a small, genuine thing. She reached over and patted his head twice, a familiar, almost sisterly gesture. "Thank you. I will try to consider that."
The tension broke. They finished their beers talking of easier things, of work, of mundane life, until the cans were empty. At the edge of the park, they parted ways with a wave, heading toward their separate vehicles.
When Gabriel reached her sleek, black limousine, one of her bodyguards moved with silent efficiency to open the door. She slid inside, the picture of human wealth and poise. The door closed, sealing her in quiet, opulent darkness. She let her gaze linger for a moment on the distant figure of Cain walking away.
Then, she exhaled. It was a long, slow release of breath, and with it, the entire affectation of humanity seemed to drain from her posture. The practiced smile, the calculated vulnerability, the melancholic friend, all of it fell away like a discarded cloak.
She turned her head. The man seated across from her was no longer just a bodyguard. His attentive stillness had transformed into something ancient and watchful.
"Tonight," Gabriel said, her voice now devoid of any warmth, any human cadence. It was clear, cold, and carried the weight of absolute authority. "Send watchers to his residence. Attempt to negotiate with Lucifer. Do you understand, Raphael?"
The being known as Raphael regarded her. His own human disguise seemed thin now, revealing an intensity in his eyes. "Lucifer has already slain Zephon, of the Ten Commandments," he stated, his voice low and resonant. "Why dispatch more for negotiation when the first emissary was met with annihilation? Is the life of this one Fallen truly worth more than the angels you would sacrifice?"
Gabriel's head turned slowly to face him fully. In the dim light of the limousine, her violet eyes began to change. A soft, divine light emanated from within them, growing in intensity until it illuminated the sharp planes of her face with an unearthly glow.
"Because it is my final warning," she said, each word precise and glacial. "After this, I will handle it myself."