The Armies of Heaven Read Online Free

head. After covering herself, she laid her head against his chest, whispered that she loved him, and cried herself to sleep within his arms. Neither of them spoke of it again. There was no need for words. She’d stayed with him that night and every night since, kissing him on the cheek as he gave her his sad smile, and lying fully clothed within his arms. She was afraid to leave him alone, afraid to be without him, and he seemed less tormented by having her near, as if resisting her temptation without running from it strengthened his belief in himself.
    He no longer seemed to obsessively repeat the Prayer of the Heart he’d recited with such anxiousness from the moment she’d met him on Solovetsky, though she heard him calmly and almost unconsciously murmuring it from time to time. If sacrificing her desires gave him peace, she would do it gladly, even if she sometimes watched him with longing while he slept beside her. He was her Kirill and that was enough.
    Kirill rose for his morning devotion and knelt in the pale, sea-blue light so like his eyes, his knotted prayer rope in his hands. As he crossed himself and began to pray, Love got up and went for her own morning devotion—a soak in the celestially famed Aravothan bath.

    Returning refreshed in the plush white robe and slippers that were part and parcel of the Aravothan bath experience, Love paused at the top of the stone steps leading to the breakfast hall. The sound of urgent lowered voices carried up to her.
    In addition to caring for Ola, it had been her job back in their little dacha in the Russian north to keep her finger on the pulse of celestial information. Back then, she hadn’t believed it was a literal Heaven of which the communications she intercepted spoke. She’d figured it must be a kind of clever, metaphoric code used by a powerful crime syndicate like the vory v zakone .
    At home, the Internet had been her specialty, but even without her favorite tools of laptops and mobile phones, she couldn’t quite break the habit of keeping an ear out for information wherever it happened to come through. Love stepped back into the shadows, pressed herself against the wall, and listened.
    “She’ll have to be told.” It was Sar Sarael. “We cannot keep her in the dark.”
    “And how do you think she’s going to take that?” This was Belphagor’s voice, tight with anger. “It’s bad enough we’ve lost the support of the Exiles. Out of the thousands of Grigori and Nephilim we might have had fighting for our side, we have one. One! If you tell her the rest of the terrestrial Fallen have turned against her and allied themselves with the Social Liberationists because those malignant, twisted Malakim have manipulated a damn gypsy feud, she’s going to lose heart. And I tell you, Sarael, I’m starting to lose it myself. How many men does the queen have—men who are trained in savagery—for every one of your Virtues? No offense to your nature, but I saw the Virtues in action at Gehenna, and they simply aren’t up to the job.”
    “That is why Her Supernal Highness’s field marshal is working with them,” Sarael responded with remarkable calm. “Who better to train them in savagery, as you put it?”
    “We’re sending lambs to the fucking slaughter.” Belphagor’s boots sounded heavily on the tile as he paced. “No, Sarael, I’m sorry. You can’t tell her the alliance has gone to shit in the world of Man. We need at least one person to believe in what we’re doing.”
    “As you wish.”
    “If we could just find a way to counteract the damage the Malakim have done. If we could break their hold on the gypsies and get the lines of communication restored, we might be able to sway the Fallen back to our side. But too many Roma believe they’ve been visited by messengers of God.”
    After a few more murmured words Love couldn’t catch, Sarael sighed. “Well, that’s moot now. Our scouts report the Supernal Army is on the move. Adequate forces