“Hello, Revenant.”
Rev almost smiled. Almost. He turned. “You finally deigned to see me, huh?”
Metatron’s silver-blue eyes flashed, matching the seizure-inducing, color-shifting robe that reached all the way to the leather sandals on his feet. “I would have responded to your other summons, but —”
“But you were busy,” Revenant said with a dismissive wave.
“But you weren’t ready,” Metatron corrected.
Revenant scowled. “Ready for what?”
“Everything that’s happened.” Metatron gazed out at the sunset, his face glowing as the sun’s golden rays kissed it.
Fucking archangels and their shimmery shit.
“What you and Reaver did… it was something no one else could have done. All of the angels in Heaven combined couldn’t have done that.”
Revenant snorted. “Yeah, well, it was dumb luck. Reaver and I shouldn’t have been able to do what we did. We both should have died.”
Metatron turned back to him. “Did you ever wonder why your mother named you Revenant?”
Well, technically she’d named him the Sheoulic equivalent, which was unpronounceable to almost anyone with a tongue.
“I guess.” He’d wondered a lot. Mainly because she hadn’t given him an angel name.
“Mariel sometimes had clairvoyant episodes,” Metatron said softly. “I believe she foresaw your return from the dead, and she gave you a prophetic name to subconsciously guide you. To keep your soul on track to that destiny.”
As much as Rev would like to believe Uncle Met, he couldn’t see his mother putting that much thought into a fallen angel name when she hadn’t put any at all into an angelic one.
“Whatever, Obi-Wan,” he muttered. “What does my name have to do with Reaver and I locking Satan away?”
“It has a lot to do with it.” Metatron’s eerily intense gaze seemed to penetrate all the way to Rev’s brain, and he had to wonder if the mighty archangel could tap into all of Revenant’s shameful deeds. “You see, your mother was just as clairvoyant with your other name.”
For being an archangel, his uncle was kind of clueless. “I don’t have another name.”
“Of course you do. She smuggled it out of Sheoul, written in blood on the inside of Reaver’s swaddling cloth,” he said. “And I find it interesting that during your time in Sheoul you were often called The Destroyer, because that’s what your angelic name means.”
Revenant shook his head to clear it of whatever was affecting his hearing, because Metatron couldn’t have just said what he thought he’d said. But the archangel was looking at him expectantly, so maybe Rev had heard right.
“What name?” he croaked.
“Abaddon.” Metatron’s voice sang with resonance so powerful Rev felt it all the way to his marrow. “The dark angel destined to lock Satan away for a thousand years. You were the key, Revenant. When Satan finally breaks out of his prison, Reaver will break the Horsemen’s Seals, and the End of Days will kick off. But until then, you and Reaver have given the realms ten hundred years of peace, just as you were prophesied to do.”
“What?” He sounded like he was being strangled. “Prophesied? By who?”
Metatron stared. “Haven’t you ever read the Bible in any of its forms and translations? You and Reaver have been central to the Apocalypse since the first waters streamed into the Nile. The signs were there from the beginning. You two thick-skulled dopes just kept missing them. Honestly, there were many times I didn’t think either one of you would find your path.”
“That makes two of us,” Revenant muttered. “Wait… if this prophecy is biblical, Satan knew about it, right?”
“No doubt. He had a prophecy written into the Daemonica that countered it. That’s why your mother hid your name. The prophecy hadn’t been written at the time you were born, but again, she saw it coming. She couldn’t let your real name be leaked or Satan would have destroyed you. No one, not even the other archangels, knew. My mate and I were alone in that.”
Mind. Blown. But now so much made sense. All the hell he, his mother, and Reaver had gone through had been for a purpose.
Which didn’t make it any less sucky.
“Did you know my blood can’t be cleansed of Satan’s taint? Were you in on the bullshit deal Raphael and his cronies offered me?”
“I’m sorry about that, Revenant,” Metatron said. “I am aware that there’s no way to remove the taint while Satan is still alive, but I didn’t know about the deal. I didn’t know until after all of this was over that Raphael lied to you. The other archangels who tried to double-cross you will be dealt with. And screw it, you are welcome in Heaven whenever you want. On my word, you won’t be harassed by any archangel, and we’ll repair the damage you cause, even if it takes centuries.”
“Thanks,” Rev said, even though he didn’t intend to step foot in Heaven as long as his presence destroyed everything around him. His mother’s memory deserved better than that.
Metatron inclined his head in acknowledgment. “And Revenant, you do realize that Sheoul is yours.”
He snorted. “Uncle Met has a sense of humor.” He paused. “Oh, hold on… no you don’t. You’re serious?”
Metatron shrugged. “Satan is gone, and Lucifer’s soul is trapped with him. You are now the most powerful being in Sheoul. You can rule it as you see fit until the time comes when the trap containing Satan fails and Reaver breaks the Horsemen’s Seals.”