Archangel’s Ascension: Chapter 9

Dmitri was waiting for Aodhan on the balcony outside the second’s office. He was dressed in a black suit with a dark gray shirt open at the collar, his black hair neatly combed, his shoes polished to a shine.

“Formal,” Aodhan commented.

“Attending an event with Honor. New intake at the Guild—she’s one of the speakers.” Pride glowed in the darkness of his eyes. “How’s our Bluebell? Still asleep?”

Aodhan’s entire body warmed at the memory of Illium sleep-tousled and drowsy. “No. He’s planning to join us after he talks to Lady Sharine.”

“I thought so—he might’ve earned a rest, but he’s not one to sit still.” The vampire who was over a millennium in age and one of the most powerful people in the immortal world gave Aodhan an update on two other situations Aodhan had helped handle, before nudging his head at the entrance to his office.

Once inside, Dmitri went to his desk and turned the screen of his computer so Aodhan could see it. “This incident’s just shot to the top of the list after a fire investigator finally had time to go through what little evidence is available.”

Aodhan nodded, aware that the backlog was significant even with everyone working as hard as they could. Priority had been given to clear cases of murder or attempted murder, other violent crimes.

“The evidence we have,” Dmitri said, “is mostly images from the security cameras around the site, as well as photos taken in the aftermath by the mother of one of the victims once she returned to the city after the war.”

Wings of wild blue on the balcony, visible through the floor-to-ceiling window at Dmitri’s back. “Illium’s just arrived.” Aodhan fought to keep his expression neutral as the other man entered the office, all wicked grin and wind-tumbled hair.

His breath speeded up nonetheless, his wings wanting to shift and rustle, as if he were a young buck with his first lover rather than an angel of half a millennium with the man who’d been his best friend all his life.

“I’ll put you on this with Aodhan,” Dmitri said after the two had greeted each other and Illium had made his case for being allowed to help. “It probably needs two sets of eyes on it anyway. But take a break if you need it.” His command held a weight Aodhan’s never would when it came to Illium—not only was Dmitri older and deadlier, he’d also known both of them as ungainly babes.

“Will do.” Having come to stand beside Aodhan, Illium kept his wings tucked scrupulously close to his body—his mind, however, was a whole different matter.

Squaring his shoulders, Illium arranged his face into an exaggerated grimace while Dmitri was distracted pulling up images on his computer screen.

, Aodhan threatened.

A glint in those golden eyes as he tapped absently at his belt buckle.

Aodhan felt his cheekbones flush, could only hope the way light refracted off his skin diffused any visible appearance of color. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed by what they’d done. It was that he wanted to haul Illium close and kiss that teasing mouth. He’d never realized how soft those lips could be, or how much he’d enjoy learning the shape of them.

“Got it.” Dmitri’s voice snapped the simmering tension in the air, turning them from playful lovers to dedicated members of the Seven in a heartbeat.

On Dmitri’s screen were stills from a number of security cameras. All showed a burned-down building with street frontage. Most probably a business, given the signage on the buildings around it.

The fire had left a long black streak on the shop to the right, but that was the worst of the damage on that side; the closest building to the left was separated from the burned structure by an alleyway, which seemed to have saved it from any harm. The building in which they were interested, however, had been reduced to rubble—rubble that had still been smoking at the time the cameras recorded these images.

“Fire occurred right before the final battle with Lijuan,” Dmitri told them. “A fire suppression team managed to get to it, but they assumed it had been torched as a result of the war.

“Since that entire block had been confirmed as evacuated, with the verification door seals visible on the other buildings, and they had multiple other fires to attend, they didn’t spend any time looking over the debris—truth was even if they had found the bodies, no one could’ve attended to it at the time.”

“Bodies?” Illium folded his arms. “Multiple victims?”

“Two, one vamp, one mortal,” Dmitri confirmed. “Discovered by Giulia Corvino, the mother of the vampire—Marco—who died in the blaze. She’s the reason we have the security camera images—she asked the neighboring businesses for them while they were still in post-war cleanup mode. Another week and they’d have been wiped.”

He leaned forward with his hands on his desk, a tic in his jaw and respect in his tone. “Giulia is also why we have photos of the actual remains in situ. Otherwise, they’d have been packed up by one of the morgue crews for later identification.”

Because war, Aodhan thought, did not allow for the niceties of peace. “She sent the photos to the Tower?”

“Via Navarro—he was Marco Corvino’s angel.” Dmitri named a senior angel of about three thousand years of age with whom Aodhan was familiar. “Problem is, Navarro sustained serious wounds in the final battle, so it took eight months for the file to even reach the Tower. His staff weren’t sure what to do about Giulia’s insistence that it was murder, just shelved it until he was up and running.”

His eyes narrowed. “Must’ve killed her inside to see her son as bones, but she wanted justice for him and his girlfriend. Tough woman.”

Aodhan looked at the photos with a new eye, seeing in their stark silence a mother’s grief—and her determination not to allow this cruelty to stand unavenged. “Marco must’ve been very young if his mother’s not only alive but capable of mounting an investigation.”

“Kid was barely past his first decade under Contract.” Dmitri’s lips pressed tight. “We lost a lot of young angels and vampires in the war, but at least they all chose to be in the fight. If what Giulia suspects is true, Marco was murdered in cold blood, the war used as a cover-up.”

“What was it?” Illium asked. “The shop? I assume he ran it for Navarro.”

Nodding, Dmitri said, “Place sold liquor.” He pulled up an image of the shop before the fire.

Illium leaned in for a closer look.

Dingy paintwork, faded signage, bottles lined up in the window, this wasn’t the neighborhood shop where folks went to pick up a bottle of wine or a six-pack of beer. This was for serious drinkers. Not the kind of place Illium would’ve expected an angel like Navarro to acquire, but it might’ve been about holding the land rather than any particular desire for the shop.

“The way the fire’s contained to the footprint of the targeted shop,” Aodhan said, the sound of his voice rolling over Illium in a resonant wave. “Is that part of the reason for suspicion?”

“Not the containment but the ferocity of the blaze.” Dmitri switched back to the still of the destroyed building. “While the fire crew managed to keep it from spreading, they remember it being a hard battle. That’s part of why they thought it the result of an angelic strike—with all the alcohol on the scene providing the perfect fuel.”

Illium nodded. While only archangels could create angelfire, the virulent flame that could end the life of another archangel, powerful angels could turn their power into energy. Both Illium and Aodhan could do it, and if they set flame to a place as incendiary as a liquor shop, it was possible it’d burn until it ran out of fuel.

“The buildings on either side and behind it are concrete,” he murmured, working through the mechanics in his head. “Same as Marco’s shop. Not easy to burn assistance.”

“A mortal could’ve set it up from the inside using additional accelerants,” Aodhan suggested, “but it would’ve required being fatally close to the danger…whereas even a weak angel could ignite it from a safe distance using a weapon.” Frowning, he went around to the other side of the desk so he could look more carefully at the photos and stills.

While Aodhan zoomed in on details, Illium said, “Why was such a young vampire in this part of the city during the war in the first place? Anyone of that age was given a relatively safe task out of the line of fire.” Unlike Lijuan, Raphael hadn’t been out to sacrifice the untrained.

“That’s part of the mystery,” Dmitri said, just as Aodhan stopped on an image of the remains taken by Giulia.

Charred bones, two skulls, colored glass melted onto them.

“No fangs on the right skull. The mortal.”

“Yes.” Dmitri pulled up a photo of a pretty woman with short black curls and skin several shades darker than his own. She wore black-framed spectacles and had a dreaminess about her that was echoed in the print of the blouse she wore—a watercolor of flowers rippling on water, the strokes deliberately smudged by the artist so that nothing was defined or sharp.

“We were able to identify her because Giulia was all but certain it had to be Marco’s girlfriend, Tanika. While her dentist’s building was obliterated in the war, he’d backed up his patient records in the ether.”

“Cloud,” Illium corrected because Dmitri had asked him to point out any such errors; the other man was one of the most technologically savvy of the other Seven, but every so often, he said something that reminded Illium that the second was over a thousand years old.

Dmitri nodded to acknowledge the correction, and Illium knew he wouldn’t make that mistake again. “Marco’s dentist had his pre-Making X-rays. Since only the incisors change in the Making, we were able to verify the vampiric remains as Marco’s with ninety percent certainty. Add in the location and it’s unlikely to be anyone else, but the forensic teams are running further tests.”

“How old was Tanika?” Aodhan asked.

“Twenty-nine.”

All of them went silent. Mortal lives were so short, and this mortal life had been snuffed out at a point where an angel would yet be a child, a being who’d barely even glimpsed the world.

“The pathologist who examined the remains found no signs of visible trauma,” Dmitri said at last, “but it could’ve been a soft-tissue injury obliterated by the fire. I’ve authorized a forensic anthropologist to take a look anyway.”

Illium took in the second’s expression, realized they were missing something. “You’re going to a lot of trouble for a case many people would’ve written off as an accident of war. Especially this long out from the deaths.”

Jaw working, Dmitri slid his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Walk outside with me.”

Once on the balcony, the crisp morning air brushing their faces, the other man said, “According to Giulia, Marco had gained a stalker sometime in the half year prior to his death. Giulia only knew of part of it, but I managed to touch base with Navarro.

“He’s grounded in Europe due to a torn wing tendon,” Dmitri continued, “but he told me Marco began to receive incessant calls approximately five months before his death and that was only the beginning. Gifts delivered to his mortal family home as well as his angel’s household, handwritten letters in the mail, odd occurrences that made Marco feel watched.”

Illium’s heart jolted, but Aodhan’s mind touched his before he could say anything.

A firm resolve.

Curling his fingers into his palm until he’d formed a tight fist, Illium held his silence even as his need to protect Aodhan roared within. “I’m guessing you don’t have an ID on the stalker or you wouldn’t have called Aodhan in.”

“No, she was very clever about that.” Staring into the wind, Dmitri seemed lost in his thoughts, shaking them off only when Izak flew by with his wing. “But she—and it a woman from the self-references in the letters that Navarro saw—made one mistake. She dropped off gifts on the balcony of the apartment that housed Marco’s mother at the time. That balcony was on the eleventh floor.”

Aodhan’s wings stirred. “Venom could climb that, but Venom’s an outlier even among vampires. Has to be an angel.”

“Especially when you add in a second incident.” Dmitri’s eyes followed Izzy’s wing as they practiced above the city, but his mind was clearly elsewhere, his voice harsh in a way that was deadly.

“Giulia is convinced that Tanika was—a month prior to the war—hit by a projectile dropped from above while she was crossing an otherwise empty football field. There were no houses from which anything could’ve been thrown and the lump of what proved to be melted plastic was too big for a bird. Tanika said she looked around but saw no one, but she was dazed so it took her time. Long enough for an angel to vanish into the clouds.”

“A warning rather than attempted murder?” Illium couldn’t see why not a chunk of rock otherwise.

Dmitri nodded in agreement before shifting so he faced Aodhan. “I’m giving you Marco and Tanika because you asked me to send this type of situation your way, but if you don’t want the—”

“I’ll take it. No young vampire or mortal should be terrorized by one of our kind.”

The two men’s eyes met, and Illium had the strange sense that there was something he didn’t know, but they did. As if they were part of a club of which he wasn’t a member.

His heart ruptured, the psychic tear agony.

He could think of only one experience the two might share of which Illium wasn’t aware: being the target of the ugliness of obsession.