"Can't promise I won't see anything," Gabriel admitted. "Not unless you can shut your soul off. But I'm not about to gossip about it." He snorted. "Let's face it, who would I gossip about it to? Azzy over there would probably shush me before I could get the words out."

No one except a bottle a scotch and an older brother just relearning the ways of being overprotective. But that was the best the archangel could do; unless he and Balthazar just never looked each other in the eyes again, there wasn't anything else. And even then, Gabriel would still see the ripples.