June 15th, 2038

The wind blew fiercely, swirling the sand into a biting monster that would strip a man's bones clean if he wasn't protected properly. The sun beat down, sending the temperature rocketing up to 110°.

All in all, it was an average day in the desert.

The sound of an engine whined through the sound of the blowing wind. The figure cut through the sand and sun, drawing closer to the ramshackle building that stood in the middle of the desert, the only place for miles.

As the motorcycle approached it slowed and then pulled to a stop in front of the building. The figure on it kicked the stand down before swinging a leg off and striding up onto the porch. They looked around cautiously, and then opened the door, entering the relatively cooler interior.

The bartender looked up and frowned at the shrouded figure. With a headscarf covering everything but the eyes, he had no way to tell if it was a man or woman standing before him. The long leather duster the person wore was buttoned to the neck, and the figure beneath was too concealed to reveal any hints of the sex of his newest patron.

The bartender sighed and waved a hand to the stools, "Take a seat. What would you like?" he asked. The figure stared at him before nodding and stepping forward, unwinding the head shroud to reveal a raven haired woman with a smattering of light freckles across her nose.

She loosened her duster and the bartender frowned at the sight of the guns holstered to her thighs and the swords at her hips.

She was trouble, there was no question.

He sighed and hoped that it wouldn't be trouble for him.

The woman leaned forward and pointed to a bottle of whiskey. "Double please" she murmured, her voice soft and dark like velvet. He nodded and poured her the drink, sliding it across the bar.

She sipped it slowly, staring down at the wood of the bar.

The bartender went on cleaning the glasses, hopeful that it would be an uneventful day.

"Do you get many 8-balls in here?" she asked softly.

The glass in his hand slipped from his fingers and shattered against the floor. His eyes were wide when they met hers. "N-no, we don't" he lied.

The woman smirked, "You're awfully close to New Delphi for me to believe that's true" she murmured.

He shook his head, "T-they don't come from that way."

The woman raised a brow, "So which way do they come from?" she demanded.

The bartender flinched. He hadn't meant to say that.

The woman leaned forward and he flinched away. "If 8-balls aren't coming from New Delphi to attack Vega, they have to be coming from somewhere. You said they don't come from New Delphi, so where are they coming from?" she asked, her tone firm.

The bartender shook his head, "I can't. He-He'll kill me."

The woman's eyes narrowed. "Who will?" she commanded.

The bartender shook his head fervently, "No! I can't!" his voice was shrill as he refused.

The woman sighed, leaning back. She tossed the whiskey back in one large gulp and stood. "I don't think you understand. You will tell me, one way or another." She walked slowly around the bar, advancing on him.

The bartender eyed her swords and trembled. As she got closer he held up his hands, "Okay! Okay! Gabriel! They come from Gabriel's aerie!" he shrieked.

The woman paused and then nodded. "Good. Now where is it?" she asked.

He shook his head, "I don't know for sure. I've only ever met one of his men…I mean 8-balls about 10 miles from here to renew my supplies."

The woman stared at him and then nodded. "When is the next resupply?"

He gulped. "T-today."

She smiled slowly and he shuddered, looking away. The woman clapped him on the arm and he flinched. "Do you have a way to communicate with them?" she asked.

He shook his head yes. "Good. I need you to get in contact and tell them that you have a surprise for them. Tell them that I came here looking for work, but you thought maybe Gabriel might want me."

The bartender startled and looked at her in shock. She smiled, "I hear he likes to have fun."

The bartender nodded weakly and went to the bar, pulling out a walkie talkie. He clicked it on and took a deep breath. "Waystation to aerie."

The walkie crackled as they waited.

"Aerie to Waystation. What's wrong?" A sharp voice asked.

"Nothing. I just have an exceptionally beautiful woman here looking for work, and I thought Gabriel might be interested. You want me to bring her to the resupply?" the bartender asked.

There was a moment of silence and then the sharp voice responded, "Do it. He's been in a foul mood."

The bartender sighed in relief and shared a look with the woman who nodded at him, encouraging him. "I'll see you at the regular time. Waystation out."

"Aerie out."

The bartender shut off the walkie and set it back with shaking hands. The woman nodded, "You did good." He shook his head, reaching for the whiskey and pouring himself a shot. He offered her one and she shook her head.

"When is the normal time?" she asked.

"Midnight" he murmured.

She nodded and looked around the empty room. She had work to do before then. Glancing back at the bartender she frowned, "Can I trust you not to radio them the second I walk outside to get my pack?" she asked.

He stared at her and then nodded. "They might kill me later. You'll kill me now."

She smirked and shook her head. "I don't kill humans." She turned and walked to the door, pausing and looking back at him, her expression serious. "I will kick the shit out of you though."

His stomach dropped and he poured another shot of whiskey as she walked out the door. When she came back minutes later he was sipping on another shot. She smirked at him and slung her pack onto a table nearby, ignoring his flinch at the thunk of her bag against the wood.

He watched warily as she shrugged her duster off and lifted her sword from its sheath, twirling it lightly. His eyes widened as she moved through a series of movements that grew more complicated with each pass of her sword.

Her breathing was steady and her hair whirled around her face, her brow furrowed in concentration as she moved. Her steps moved faster until she was nearly a blur and with a sudden movement she brought her sword down, splitting a chair in half as though it was nothing more than paper.

She took a breath and stood straight, inspecting her sword before nodding and sheathing it.

"W-who are you?" the bartender whispered.

She paused as she unrolled her pack, digging out fresh clothing. Glancing over her shoulder her dark eyes met his light ones.

"I'm no one" she murmured.

At midnight the bartender locked his door and led the woman through the dark to his supply truck. She climbed into the seat beside him, stowing her pack between her feet. She had hardly spoken the whole day, even when other patrons had come into the small waystation.

Her serious eyes watched the road ahead as he drove, sporadically glancing over at her. She had refused to answer his question of who she was, or any of his other questions.

The way she handled a blade and her desire to see Gabriel…it couldn't be good. More than one person in history had tried to kill the infamous archangel.

It hadn't ended well for them.

He pulled to the side of the road at the meeting point and left his lights on, pointing at the other vehicle that was already waiting for them. The 8-ball leaning against the truck nodded at him and he nodded back, fear making his movements sharp and shaky.

"Don't worry, you'll be fine" the woman murmured.

"How do you know that" he whispered.

She glanced at him and the moonlight reflected off her cheekbones making them seem sharper. "Because it's my calling to know." She stared at him for a moment before opening her door and grabbing her pack, slinging it onto her back.

He quickly followed her. The 8-ball stood straight and raised his gun to point at her, "Slow up." He looked at the bartender, scowling. "You didn't say she had weapons."

The bartender stammered until the woman interrupted him, "I told him not to."

The 8-ball shifted the gun higher, "Why not?"

She raised her hands slowly, "Because I'm someone that Gabriel will want to talk to, but probably won't trust. This was the only way. Take me back to him, and I guarantee he'll reward you."

The 8-ball stared at her and then frowned, "Why would he do that?"

She smirked and her hands drifted lower towards her swords and guns, "Because I use these to kill your kind. It's my job to restore balance, and to do that, I kill as many of you as I can."

The 8-ball snarled at her and lifted the gun, training his sights on her. She laughed, "Go ahead, kill me. Then you can tell Gabriel that his best chance at redemption was lost because of you."

He hesitated and then lowered his gun with a snarl. "Get in the truck and keep your mouth shut."

The woman nodded and walked over, still keeping her hands in sight. She sat in the passenger seat and watched as the bartender and the 8-ball argued as they unloaded his supplies. A few minutes later the 8-ball shoved the bartender and shook his head before getting into the truck, slamming the door shut.

The woman lifted her head covering and showed it to the 8-ball, "Would you like me to cover my eyes so I don't know the way to the aerie?" she offered. He stared at her for a moment and then nodded, his expression uncomfortable, trying to hide that he was upset at not thinking of the idea himself.

She tied the scarf around her eyes and then nodded, "Okay."

The 8-ball started the truck and they lurched forward.

The woman listened carefully, using her training to measure how far they went, counting turns. When they stopped and she was grabbed roughly by the arm and pulled from the truck she had a rough idea of how far they had traveled.

The steps beneath her feet felt smooth, as though they had been worn down by millennia of use. She smelled cool, damp stone…and the further up they went, the smoke from a fire. She sniffed softly and smelled food cooking.

Her stomach rumbled appreciatively and she was reminded that she hadn't given it anything other than whiskey and jerky that day.

The hand on her arm moved to her back and she was shoved forward. She could hear voices in the room grow quiet and she lifted her hand to tug off the scarf.

"Please keep that on" a voice commanded.

Her fingers paused and she tilted her head towards the sound of the man's voice. It had been nearly 14 years since she had heard it. Devery's heart beat slightly faster.

Her lips curled up.

"I heard please, but that sounded like a command" she murmured.

A low chuckle reached her and she shivered, knowing it was him. She would never forget that laugh.

"Some humans have no capacity for insight. You seem far wiser than some of your brethren."

Devery tilted her head down to hide her smile. "You seem like the more arrogant brother."

There was a low hiss in the room and a moment later she felt the air move in front of her. She could feel his body heat radiating towards her. When the scarf was tugged off her eyes she blinked at the low light and then stared into the face of the man she had been hunting for the better part of a decade.

Gabriel stared into the dark eyes of the woman that had been promised to entertain him and felt a flicker of something…recognition?

He smirked and grabbed her chin in his strong grasp. "I have every reason to be arrogant child. My brother is a mewling weakling. He refuses to see his beloved humanity for what they are; a waste of our father's love."

Devery's nostril's flared and her heart pounded with anger. Her eyes narrowed, "The only waste was you. God was so ashamed of what his favored son had become he abandoned you, and us."

She knew she was taunting him, but damn it felt good to watch the anger rise in his face.

When his hand left her chin and wrapped around her throat, lifting her into the air, choking her, it didn't feel as good. She didn't struggle; she simply stared down at him.

Gabriel squeezed her neck tighter, fury pumping through him. Who was she to speak to him like that?

Devery raised a hand from her side as her vision flickered and pointed to the group of 8-balls standing nearby. She felt the familiar rush of power in her head and before she blacked out she saw them consumed in flames, their screams in her ears.

Gabriel dropped the woman and watched his soldiers burn with wide eyes. He looked back at her, curiosity kindling in him. He crouched down and lifted her hand, turning it over, looking for the source of the flames.

"How did you do that?" he murmured.

One of his brethren came close and murmured something about locking her up and Gabriel stared at her unconscious figure. He stood and nodded, "Do it" he commanded.

The angel slung the woman over his shoulder and carried her from the room and down to the cells.

Gabriel climbed the steps to his throne and stared blankly out at the room, puzzling over his new acquisition.

Who but angels and God had that kind of power?

His sister flew through the aerie roof and landed in front of him. He smiled softly, "Uriel."

She smiled brightly and swept forward to embrace him, her long blonde hair smelling of the rain that had begun to fall softly outside. He pulled away and pointed to the ashes on the floor, "A woman did this. She pointed to my soldiers and a moment later they were aflame. How is that possible?" he demanded.

Uriel frowned and crouched down, running her fingers through the ash. She looked up at her brother, "I do not know how this is possible brother. There are no humans that can do this without weapons."

Gabriel nodded, he knew that. "That begs the question of how she did it."

Uriel spread her wings, "I will find out."

Gabriel watched as she flew away as quickly as she had appeared, leaving him to contemplate the mysterious woman who was jailed just below his feet.

His feet carried him down to the cells and he stood, staring at her still form. It had been ages since he had a puzzle as intriguing as this one. A smirk came to his lips.

He couldn't wait to find out all her secrets.

Devery woke by inches, the burning sensation in her throat the first thing she felt first. The second thing she noticed was that she was sitting, and her hands were tied behind her back. Her eyes opened and she twisted in the chair, looking around the cell where she had been left.

Smooth stone walls surrounded her on three sides. She turned back and found iron bars in front of her. Standing in front of them was an ugly 8-ball holding a gun, sneering at her. She ignored him and began twisting her wrists, trying to get free.

She quickly discovered her hands hadn't been tied, but shackled behind her back, and had been covered in some sort of cloth—perhaps in an attempt to keep her powers from manifesting.

She smirked.

Gabriel was no fool.

The 8-ball watched her for another moment before lifting a walkie and speaking into it. "She's awake."

There was no response, but Devery had a good idea of who was on the other end.

She sat still, waiting, until she heard heavy boot steps on the stone in the hallway outside her cell. A moment later Gabriel stood before her cell, smirking at her.

She wanted to punch that damn look off his face.

He jerked his head at the 8-ball, dismissing him without ever looking at him. When they were alone his expression changed his smile slipping into a soft frown as he examined her, his head tilted to the side as though he was studying a painting in a museum.

Devery remained impassive, her expression bored, tapping her foot softly. Finally she sighed and leaned forward slightly, "These sure are some nice cells you have here. Care to let me out?" she quipped.

Gabriel smiled faintly, "Only if you promise to be a good girl and not kill my men."

Devery sucked air in between her teeth and shook her head, giving him a mock regretful look, "I'm sorry, I just don't think I can do that."

Gabriel chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Tell me how you did it" he commanded.

Devery smiled and crossed one leg over the other, leaning back. Her expression was neutral, "I don't know what you mean" she murmured.

Gabriel frowned at her. "Humans do not have that kind of power. Someone must have given it to you."

Devery smiled softly, "I really don't know what you're talking about" she said.

Gabriel grumbled with frustration and stepped forward, opening the cell door. He stood over her, his eyes blazing with anger. "Tell me how you killed my men" he murmured, his voice dangerous.

Devery smiled politely up at him, goading him, "Gabriel, I'm sorry, I don't-" she was cut off by the sharp blow he dealt against her face, sending her head snapping to the side.

Devery took a deep breath and spat out blood onto the floor. "One" she whispered.

Gabriel leaned in, "I'm sorry, what was that?" he asked, a manic grin on his face.

Devery turned towards him, a bruise already forming on her face. "You only get two more chances to break me. Then I'm getting up out of this chair and kicking your ass." She stared at him calmly and Gabriel felt a small sliver of respect for her for thinking that was even possible.

He leaned back and grinned. "Okay. Let's have some fun then." He circled her slowly and ran his fingers through her hair. He brushed it aside and stroked a finger across the soft skin of her shoulder.

"How did you kill my men? You pointed at them and they were engulfed in flames. Only those of Heaven and Hell have those powers."

Devery stared straight ahead, saying nothing. She knew Miles had wanted her to find a way to redeem Gabriel…but after years of fighting his legions and seeing the destruction he was capable of, she didn't know if she had it in her, or if he did.

Gabriel toyed with a knife and then leaned down, whispering in her ear, "Which is it; Heaven or Hell?"

Devery tilted her chin and looked at him, her eyes steely. "I serve your Father. Your actions no longer do, fallen one."

Gabriel flinched and felt a ring of memory at the words. He snarled and plunged the knife into her shoulder, watching as she bucked against the agonizing pain, but made no sound. Her chest rose and fell quickly as she struggled to contain sounds of anguish.

"Two" she gasped.

Gabriel shook his head and ripped out the knife, smirking when she cried out, falling forward. Her long black hair framed her face as dark rivulets of blood streamed down her shoulder.

Devery took deep breaths, struggling against the waves of pain that threatened to knock her unconscious. She concentrated on her shackles and focused the burning power she held inside towards the locking mechanism.

Gabriel circled in front of her and crouched down, tilting her chin up to examine her face. Again a flash of recognition went through him. "Who are you?" he murmured, tilting his head to the side, confusion furrowing his brow.

Devery lifted her eyes to his and a smile twisted her lips, "Nindayaa" she whispered, watching as his eyes widened.

"You're the girl from Vega…" Gabriel stood, pacing around the room. He remembered that day clearly now. He had never seen a young girl like her with the ability to kill 8-balls like they were little more than chaff before a reaper.

Her master had been even more deadly, and had he not been wearing his armor that day, he would have died.

Devery watched Gabriel pace, satisfaction making her smirk softly. He was shaken by the news that the girl who had killed so many of his creatures years ago was still alive, and had been devastating his ranks for years.

He spun back to her and frowned at the smirk on her lips. She thought this was funny did she? In a swift movement he buried the knife in his hand in her thigh, much like her master had done to him.

Devery cried out and writhed, futilely trying to get the knife out. Gabriel's hand clamped down on her knee and he twisted the knife, sending shockwaves of excruciating pain through her body. She shrieked and bucked, trying to escape.

Gabriel panted and ripped the knife out, stalking away. He tossed it to the ground, breathing heavily. He closed his eyes and ran a hand over his hair, pushing it back out of his eyes.

Devery took shallow panting breaths, her body on fire with pain. She could feel the lock mechanisms in the manacles heating, and knew within moments they would be broken and she would be freed.

She took a deep breath, steadying her heart. Then another. And another.

"Three" she whispered.

Gabriel shook his head and turned on her, his eyes widening as she stood from the chair, her shackles snapping and falling to the ground. His eyes darted to the knife he had tossed on the ground and then back to Devery, who was watching him with a predatory look.

In a heartbeat they were both lunging towards the knife, desperate that the other shouldn't have it. Devery's fingers closed around the hilt and she rolled, slashing at Gabriel. He lunged back, just barely avoiding having his throat slashed.

He drew his sword and grinned, "Looks like I have the advantage" he taunted.

Devery was well aware she had a smaller weapon and was wounded. But the knife wasn't her only weapon, and he seemed to have forgotten that. They circled each other in the confines of the cell, each looking for a way into the other's defenses.

Devery lifted her free hand and concentrated, her heart beating faster, the toll of her powers draining her of energy much faster than normal. If she hadn't been wounded, she could have just blasted him with raw fire like she had the others, but the delicate work to free herself had required concentration while being tortured, and it took a great deal of energy to do that.

A moment later Gabriel shifted, it had gotten hotter in the room somehow…He cried out as the metal on his armor burned his skin, searing him. He glared at Devery and dropped his sword, clawing at his clothes, trying to free himself of the growing pain.

Devery grinned faintly, but knew she didn't have much left as far as her powers went. She would be left with brute force against an archangel that was older, faster, and stronger than her.

As Gabriel stripped off his armor she lunged forward and sliced his arm, stumbling back when he backhanded her. Gabriel glanced at his sword and left it; he didn't need it to stop this upstart woman.

He watched as she dragged her injured leg slightly and smirked. Rushing her, he ignored the hot slice of pain as she cut him again, this time across the chest. He knocked the knife from her hand and tossed her to the ground.

Devery panted in pain and when Gabriel knelt over her, his hands going for her throat again, she wrapped her legs around his waist and bucked her head up at his chin. His head snapped back and she twisted her hips, rolling them until she was on top, her fists flying to connect with his face.

Gabriel shouted and brought an arm up to protect his face, rolling his hips to try and shake her off. He punched wildly, catching her in the ribs, hearing her grunt. He hit her again, this time connecting with her face.

Devery was stunned, long enough for Gabriel to shake her off. She stumbled away, blood trickling down her face. Gabriel rounded on her and she made a split second decision. When he got close enough she dropped to her knees and then laid back, aiming a kick upwards, straight at his groin.

As he dropped in agony she rolled, grabbing him around the neck and squeezing for all she was worth. He struggled violently, trying to shake her off. Devery held on, praying he would pass out soon.

Gabriel fought for air and struggled against the pain in his body, stumbling backwards. He could just see the wall behind him out of the corner of his eye. He slammed her against it as hard as he could, hearing her grunt when he did.

When she didn't let go he slammed her again, spots dancing in his vision. He felt her grip loosen and stumbled, trying to throw her off. Snarling with what little air he had left, he heaved and spread his wings, tossing her off.

Devery slammed into the wall for the third time and landed on the floor heavily. Gabriel staggered away, gasping for air.

She tried to rise and immediately sunk back down, her head pounding, her body aching.

Gabriel stumbled to the door and snatched up the walkie, "Bring shackles…now. The kind used for angels." He tossed it aside and stumbled back inside the cell, sitting heavily on the chair she had occupied.

Devery stared up at him through bruised eyes. "You'll never get your Father back this way" she whispered, her mouth sore from his punches.

Gabriel stared at her. "What makes you think I want him back?" he retorted.

She smiled faintly, "Because I know what it's like to lose your whole family. You'd do anything to get just one person back." Her eyes fluttered as she slumped back to the floor, blood loss and pain dragging her into blackness.

Gabriel stared at her. She was more right than she knew. He would do just about anything to get his family back. Even if it meant destroying humanity.

A pair of 8-balls came running down the hall, carrying the chains he had ordered. They quickly lifted Devery, shackling her wrists and legs to the walls, leaving her sitting on the floor, with almost no room to move.

Gabriel stood and swayed, his body aching. He smirked softly and walked from the cell, shutting it and staring at Devery's sleeping form. She had been true to her word. She had kicked his ass.

He stalked away, contemplating what she had said when he had asked who she was, "Nindayaa", in one of the Native American tongues it roughly translated to "I am nameless." He shook his head, no one was nameless.

Her cryptic talk of having a calling to kill his 8-balls and redeem him…that was new. Usually only Michael spouted such nonsense.

He smirked and sank down on the couch in his rooms, tossing aside his armor. He would have to rework the metal fastenings; the woman had ruined at least half of it. He stripped his shirt off and frowned, examining the burns on his chest and arms.

They weren't particularly severe, but the knife wounds would need to be stitched. He sighed and rang a bell, waiting impatiently until one of his companions appeared, her lithe legs cutting a path across the room to him.

He leaned back and smirked, "I need you" he murmured, waving a hand idly towards his wounds.

She nodded and went to the small cabinet across the room, gathering the items she would need to clean and stitch his wounds. Her fingers were nimble as they moved, and soon Gabriel's wounds were sealed, anesthetic numbing them.

He ran a hand up her thigh, smiling. She smirked back and sank down on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Gabriel sighed, it was good to be bad.

AN: Hey everyone! Thank you for reading, and I hope you are enjoying the story so far! Thank you Wuji-Bu for following! I hope to get some reviews soon! I'd love to know what you think! I have some other stories to update as well, so I'll try to update at least once a week.