I take Reed to the underground stable of chrome and steel horses. When I turn on the light, I see what I now know is part of an angel arsenal—endless rows of motorcycles, cars, and SUVs polished to a high shine. “Which one do you like?” Reed asks. I walk down the row of SUVs. “The white one.”
Reed chuckles at my total disregard for the makes and models of the luxury vehicles. “The white one it is.” He opens the passenger door for me. I climb in. He’s sitting in the driver’s seat in a fraction of a second. I smile at him. He shows me a chip in the palm of his hand. “What is that?” I ask.
He closes his hand and crushes the chip. Dust falls from it when he opens it again.
“I disabled the tracking device and anti-theft protocols.” The keyless fob is in the console. Reed opens the fob and disables more components. He starts the car, glancing over at me. “I’ll find us a safe place to meet Russell while you find Gancanagh.”
I exhale and close my eyes. As Reed uses the car elevator to take the SUV from the basement to the driveway, I concentrate on creating a clone. Reed drives the car onto the street. My shimmering image floats through the roof of the SUV, up through the leafless branches of oak trees and into the night sky.
BRENNUS
I close da door ta me room. Having jus left Finn ta manage da fallout of whah we learned from our parley wi’ da trolls, I rub me face wearily. I despise da weakness associated wi’ needing ta sleep. Da only consolation I have in it is dat I can search for Genevieve in me dreams. I miss her more dan I care ta admit, even ta meself. I need her more dan I need anyting in dis miserable world.
I’ve had ta abandon her dis long because circumstances dictated it. Dere’s unrest everywhere. Craiturs are mobilizing. We have a very small window of opportunity ta persuade dem ta our side—ta join me queen’s army. I could’ve used Declan on dis front. He was adept at finding da angle dat gains compliance. I miss da counsel of me captain o’ da guard. Beside Finn, he was like a brudder ta me.
I go ta me bedside table. Tugging da small vial from da chain I wear around me neck, I lift it over me head. I set da vial of Genevieve’s blood down next ta da lamp. Dere is na much left in da small bottle. I will need ta ration it until I can get more or until she sees reason and joins me in dis fight. She is so stubborn. It’s da Seraphim in her.
I lie down on me bed, propping me head on a couple of white pillows. I reach over, intent on unstopping da vial of Genevieve’s blood when I pause. A commotion stirs from da hall beneath me room. Electricity surges tru me body as a radiant image of Genevieve enters me room. I set da vial back on da table, watching as she moves gracefully ta da edge of me bed. She hovers near da footboard before she climbs up on da mattress and crawls seductively ta me side. She lies down, looking up at da ceilin’.
For a moment I tink dat I’m already dreamin’, but den she turns her head and faces me, saying, “So, dis is a crap room ye’re livin’ in.”
A bark of laughter peels from me as da bed shakes wi’ me mirth at her attempt ta sound like a fella. “’Tis, Genevieve. Now do ye see da lengths I will go ta in order ta protect ye?”
“Is that why you chose this place?” She gazes around. Her eyes linger on da vial of her blood on da bedside table.
Me voice is gentle as I say, “It’s where ye’re from, is it na?”
“It is, but as it turns out, I’m from a lot of places.”
“Yer guardian angel was right about dis place. ’Tis a foin city in which ta hide from angels. Dey do na seem ta like it here.”
Her tragic sadness dat so attracts me ta her is in her eyes when she turns ta look at me. I suck in me breath, wanting ta be da one ta save her from her sorrow. “I’m coming to pay you a visit. I should be here in a few hours.”
“Is dat so?”
“’Tis,” she replies, trying to hide her sorrow in humor.
“Ta whah do I owe da honor?” I have ta catch me breath and resist da impulse ta try ta reach for her across da bed. She’s in phantom form.
“We need to parley. You have something I need.”
“Whah have I dat ye need?”
“I’ll tell you when I arrive.”
“A hint, perhaps?” I wheedle.
“I don’t think so.”
“Why na?”
“You always want something in return. You rarely give me anything I really want without my having to bargain for it.”
“Dat’s jus good business.”
“This is more than business.”
“I know. ’Tis flesh, bone, and soul. Ye’re welcome ta whahever I have ta give. I’ve information ta impart ta ye as well.”
She looks skeptical. “A little hint?” she asks. Her eyes are so dangerous. Dey make me want ta open me veins ta her—ta bleed for her.
“Sheol is a rising tide dat is flooding our shores wi’ unwanted guests. Evil souls are inhabiting da earth in unprecedented numbers. Da less dan divine craiturs of dis world are choosing deir sides. We’re negotiating wi’ da trolls. Dey can be swayed ta our side.”