Summary

Joe thought Bowie's death would end the running - but someone else has found him in Midnight. And this someone makes his former mentor look like an beginner. Is he here to take Joe back - or take Joe down?

Notes

The original characters of Seraphiel and Andre are used (or will be used) in another set of stories based in the Dominion / Legion / Lucifer universe. Just not quite yet.

Welcome to Midnight

The two bikers rolled into Midnight just before dusk, sliding to a stop in front of the Cafe with practiced ease. Creek watched from the door as they dismounted their large motorcycles and removed their helmets before glancing around at their surroundings. One was an older man, tallish with grey hair and close-cropped beard and mustache. His ram-rod stiff posture tagged him as a military man like the ones she had seen come through on their way to the bases in San Antonio. His companion was something else again. The younger man towered over his friend, well over six feet, clean-shaven with long dark hair and a scar running through one eyebrow, handsome and yet frightening at the same time. Both men seemed to be looking for something as they scanned the slowly emptying streets, closely examing any resident who came within sight. She watched them for a moment then returned inside, heading for the inner room where the Midnighter's tended to gather. After all that had happened in the last few weeks, strangers in Midnight were rare enough to warrant a little attention from those gathered inside.

Outside, the two men stretched tired muscles and looked back at the cafe with interest. "So you're sure he's here?" the younger man rumbled, hanging his helmet over his bike's handbars. "It's been what- a millennia since you had word of him?"

The older man shrugged, mimicking his companions actions and stepping back from the motorcycle. "Ah boy, at least that the death of the Fallen brought whispers of his being here, in this place where mortal and immortal creatures gather. It is Father's will that I find him." The man's voice dripped with the sounds of old Ireland, liquid and pleasing to the ear - not a match for the cold gleam of his blue eyes. He glanced up at his companion with the semblance of a wry grin. "No one said you had to come with me."

The other man shrugged, a quick smile lighting his face. "I was bored. Lucifer is in one of his "it's all about me" moods and I'm likely to get in a world of hurt if I tell him what I really think about his problems. Besides - Dad is off trying to protect his bloody twin from himself again and frankly waiting on his ass to get back got old the first three hundred times he did that."

The old man nodded. "True. My brother's need to protect his twin can be unfortunate. Well, I'll not say I'm unhappy to have you with me. We've not had time enough to know each other's ways. This is as good a time as any."

The younger man shrugged. "Whatever you say Seraphiel. Personally, I'd rather be bonding over some good Guinness and a ton of snacks but guess beggars can't be choosers. So, what did you say this lost angel's name was again?"

"Joseph. Though I suspect he prefers Joe. Fits in better with the local mortals." Seraphiel glanced around at the deserted streets than flexed his shoulders, allowing his massive steel grey wings to erupt from his back. "Best we get on with this, Little Dragon. Sooner we find him, sooner he can hear the judgment of our Father."