"Oh, you meant the General. The General got lost trying to save the Lord's flock from a heathen's touch and Heaven does not seem to care."
Lucifer's mouth curved into a small sneer when he put Michael down on the bed, uncurling bloodied fingers from his shirt, and brushed a strand of hair off the wounded angel's face.
" No, the General is not here. This is Michael. Can't you see?"