Suddenly the whole of the corridor was lit with a steady glow--a steady glow of something that hummed, high-pitched, with power. Gabriel didn't need to look over. He knew that sound, even if he wasn't completely familiar with the way it made the hairs on his arms stand on end.

The Archangel didn't really think. Angels didn't really have instincts as humans knew the concept, but Gabriel--Gabriel had, not so long ago, developed a habit. A method of retreating he still hadn't completely shook off. A bundle of thoughts and impulses to which he'd almost become chained.

Gabe ducked instinctively, and between one heartbeat and another segued as naturally as breathing from human to mountain-lion, a lion with fur so black that it looked like a panther--so black he was a shadow among the shadows. He never even paused. With liquid grace the great cat darted beneath the ball of chi, a flurry of motion and unthinking drive to react to a threat. With a snarl the lion threw itself at Hakkai.