The voice came from everywhere and nowhere. It wasn't loud, but it cut through the angelic chorus like a knife through silk. It was cheerful, casual, and dripping with sarcasm.
"Where might you be taking my father's most valued people off to?"
Every head, mortal and angel alike, turned.
He stood on the edge of a nearby rooftop, backlit by the setting sun so fiercely his form was a silhouette, a cut-out of shadow against the fiery orange sky. He had his arms crossed, one foot tapping impatiently.
Zadkiel's serene smile faltered. Orias's rotating rings of light stuttered for a millisecond. The beams of light holding Elena and Leo didn't waver, but they seemed to… hesitate.
The being on the rooftop took a single, lazy step forward, off the edge. He didn't fall. He walked down the air as if descending a staircase only he could see, each step bringing him out of the sun's blinding glare.
